#fun fact: bones bones bones let me see your bones

[aroace-and-has-a-mace]

’are you an early bird or a night owl’ bitch i am not the sunshine i am not the moon at night who else could i be when i can hardly see?

[revvethasmythh]

every time i see someone suggest the destroy ending being red colored doesn't mean it's renegade I do have to wonder if like. they've engaged with the renegade dialogues in me3 at all. because the destroy ending is really a full culmination of renegade beliefs that come up in-game (the ruthless calculus of war, kill ten billion over there so twenty billion other people can live, valuing organic life above synthetic, etc). like control vs destroy is even a direct retreading of rewrite vs destroy from legion's loyalty mission in me2. rewrite/control are paragon aligned options. choices that value synthetic lives as equal to organic and sacrifice one life (shepard) for the continued survival of an entire race are paragon aligned. destroy eliminates the geth and EDI, it has to or it would cost nothing. and the game is very much trying to make a point about synthetic life being just as valid and worthy as organic, flubbed execution or not, so any option that gets rid of them is ideologically renegade because renegade is the only ideology okay with getting rid of them. of course, the morality system in the game is often confused and many choices from all the games could arguably be flipped, but i do find it interesting that people will defend choosing destroy by calling it a paragon choice despite the fact that it, well, clearly isn't, at least within the moral framework of the game. I think too many people think paragon = good and renegade = evil, neither of which are true. paragon is often fruitlessly naive and renegade is belligerent and unkind, but they're not good and evil. they're just different personalities and ideologies, in extreme ways sometimes, but still. and frankly it would make a paragon shepard far more interesting if they embraced making a renegade decision at the end than it would to try and retcon a way for destroy to be paragon when it isn't

[kalims]

cupping their face

parts. one , two , three , four , five , six , seven

characters. savanaclaw

note. how about we ignore the last part being almost 2 years ago... on another note this is a small apology for azul's part in that future kid series! I'm almost finished with his!!

leona

expectedly does not have much cheek to squish. holding his face means you're more or less just feeling firmness under your skin, and despite his diet all the fat goes to his arms.

contrary to belief it's very easy to catch him in a moment where you could squeeze in a sneaky hold, usually when he's off napping somewhere.

what you do not know though, is that he's aware it's you. hence, why he doesn't bother to wake up.

others though... aren't treated quite the same. imagine, you almost got your teeth knocked out from accidentally stepping on his tail before, there's no way others would be spared!

his face has this certain pull that just compells you to touch and run your fingers across the skin. it's kind of like finding a very fluffy cat then getting enticed to pet it.

if he happens to be awake when you get bewitched by him to cup his cheeks, he only stares at you with one eye open and eventually returns to sleep.

if the telltale of his swaying tail wasn't enough, you're startled when you're pulled in easily to his side if you pulled away.

"why don't you put all that attention to somewhere else?" he comments gruffly, next thing you know you're running your fingers through his hair—albeit begrudgingly.

ruggie

out of all savanaclaw students, ruggie probably has the most chubby cheeks but honestly I don't really think chubby would be the right word!

yes, definitely more chubbier than other more scrawny residents of his dorm if you pinch his cheeks but he's sorta skinny and his face doesn't escape that.

ruggie is the most likely to simply sit still and let you hold his face with a wagging tail because he honestly can't pass up a free... massage?

he's not sure. all he knows that it feels pretty good to be under your affections.

probably backseating you on where to touch cause he's really feeling it, more so when you actually oblige him.

still. his cute face lacks up for all the lack of fat in it so it's still a great pleasure to be able to see his drooping ears and relaxed face.

"I ain't paying you for that," ruggie snickers when you palm his cheeks, leaning into the warmth. "don't go 'round doing this for the others though. they aren't so nice like me."

jack

lean. I mean, have you seen the guy? he might just be a tad more lanky than leona due to the fact he follows a more active lifestyle.

between juggling consistent physical exertion, healthy meals and participating in magishift practices... leona's sleep, eat cycle pales in comparison.

while you don't have the privilege of feeling what little fat is left over in his face, you do get the liberty of skimming your fingers through the defined bones of his face. very fun!

what might be more fun than that is his response, watching how he reacts is far more satisfying than the act of skin to skin contact.

while his tail is swaying at a steady, undeniably pleased pace, his ears are upright. occasionally darting from your face to glance around, decimating if there's anyone straying who could interrupt.

long story short he's putty if you do that. stands compliantly still, or lays still depending on where.

do it once and now it's embedded in your routine. he gets grumpy if you don't do that atleast once a day, be consistent about doing it at the same time everyday and he's happy.

"you remembered this time." jack cleared his throat after minutes of contemplating if it was worth it to speak through the warm silence. he attempts a smile at you, heart accelerating at the redness of his ears. "if you're finished.. I'm more than happy to return the favor."

[muntitled]

Girl On TV

Pairings: Namgyu x Fem!Reader

Summary: After being humiliated by his not-so-innocent friends for being far too innocent, you decide not to be such a prude for once in your life

Warnings: Language, Substance Abuse, Toxic Relationship, Male Manipulation, Virgin!Reader, Coercion, Peer Pressure, Drug Use, Virginity shaming, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Sadism, Sadomasocism, Grinding, Porn, Corruption Kink, Pillow Humping, Mutual Masterbation

A/n: I love being a problematic Namgyu stan

You hadn't known it would come down to this.

Had you been told before you would be dragged to sit on his lap under the dim lights of Club Pentagon and made to see this... you might not even have some at all.

Perhaps if he had invited you under the guise of distracting you from academics for one Friday night, you might've been more open.

Less of a prude.

But you had never seen such a clean line of powder stretched across the table in your life. In fact your body burns with not only embarrassment at being in the proximity of such hardcore drugs, but your bones were also set alight in fear.

The arms that have been cradling your waist pulls you in tighter, making you feel smaller than you actually were on his lap. This is what you loved about him. He liked you. Your curves. Your face. Your everything.

You could stick this out, couldn't you?

You should.

"Woah," He calmly whispers into your ear. All at once, every morsel of discomfort is driven out by your overwhelming need to please him.

The club is dark.

The music is good.

Namgyu's pulled you onto his lap in front of an embarrassingly large group of strangers. Everything is perfect.

"What's wrong?" He's so attentiative, bending his head down to whispers conspiratorially into your hair. His voice drowns out the oppressive rap song being performed on the center stage on the ground floor of the club and for all of five minutes its just you and him and the cocaine. Buy mainly, just him.

"You're strung up." He whispers.

You're quiet for a few tense minutes, wondering if you should voice your concerns and risk having him disappointed in you for not having fun like he intended.

"I don't know if I'm too comfortable."

"Here?" You hear him whisper, slightly poking his head forward to nudge his nose into the back of your neck, "With me?" He's using that petulant almost needy voice of his when he's inebriated and it tugs at something deeply troubled inside you.

"Not with you," you reassure him, "With that-" you nudge your head forward slightly, leading his half-lidded eyes to the long stripe of cocaine marring the table. "And your friends," you reluctantly murmur, letting yourself sink against him as if he had the power to scare these drunken people away. As if he wasn't forcing you here, amongst them at all.

"You know Thanos is a big name in the club scene-" He begins and you cut him off by sighing very loudly as you resch forward to grab your glass of water off the small, reflective table.

Thoroughly annoyed because he's sung this song before.

"I know, Namgyu but-"

His fingers weave into themselves around your waist, securing you against him like a baby, "Just be cool for like 40 minutes- maybe and hour-"

Your blood pressure skyrocketed as you turned back to shoot him, not only a look of immense incredulousness but betrayal.

"Namgyu, you said you wanted to take me out- yeah? Not your friends-”

"-Then we can get out of here, and I'll give you all the kisses you want."

You sigh heavily once more. “You didn't say anything about-"

He loosens his grip from your waist before standing up, forcing you to stand up in the process.

"He's coming," he whispers, keeping his eye off into the distance. His attention is much not on you and your present moral struggles.

"This is work, baby, you know this-"

"Namgyu- I have a test on-"

He pinches your side as a new guest enters the section. "Shh." Namgyu whispers at the same time the guest's boisterous hollers cause you to quite literally flinch.

"Yo, Namsu!" He's dripping in gold chains and purple hair. "Who is this fine Senorita you've brought with you?" He asks despite having two women under his arm. "You trying to outdo me bro?" Thanos takes a seat directly beside you and Your boyfriend.

"This is my girl-" He says at the same time Namgyu pulls you back onto his lap.

"It's Nam-Gyu-" you say through gritted teeth. "Not Nam-Su." Your eyes are narrowed at the man who only listens and smiles.

You glare daggers at the man before your boyfriend taps you slightly, reminding you to answer. “I have water- so no thank you." You say before mumbling, "I'm not a snitch either-"

"Is she partaking with us?" He asks your boyfriend, despite looking right at you. “Or is she a snitch?"

The girl under Thanos' arm snickers. "Water?"

You once again, tried to crawl further into Namgyu's lap.

He, thankfully tightened his grip around your waist, never letting you go as he conversed in inebriated chatter with Thanos. The more drugs they consumed the louder they got, until Namgyu started flailing his right arm wildly while he told a story, still having somewhat enough sense to keep a languid grip on your waist.

Somewhere, amongst all the useless chatter, you decided to add in your two cents, snickering quietly to yourself as you mumbled over the rim of your glass, "I've actually never watched porn before-"

"What do you mean you've never watched porn before?" Your eyes widen when you realize you'd spoken louder than you intended to and one of Thanos' girls snicker loudly. The sound carries across the table to his degenerate friends and their girlfriend's and causes a whole new wave of laughter to be birthed from your embarrassment.

You begin to squirm in Namgyu's lap.

Despite the drugs and the loud music, the two of you were having such a nice evening... You never fancied partying much and yet, your boyfriend had to sink his claws into you to get you to agree to one night of partying. The consequences of that decision are playing out in front of you.

"You've been banging a virgin this entire time?" Thanos asks Namgyu the same time and nameless girl says-

"Even I've watched porn."

Despite the anxiety flooding your veins at being the center of unwanted attention, Namgyu's grip around your waist is firm. It keeps you grounded. It tightens around you now, nudging you against him like his nose at the nape of your neck.

"Have I?" Namgyu asks with his eyes as hazy as the city caught in dusk. There isn't alcohol on his breath, only a light dust of snow under his nose.

"Have you what?" You ask, staring down at your trembling hands.

"Been dealing with a virgin this entire time?" He asks, unraveling your very private life to a room full of strangers. He's high. And incredibly loose with his mouth. You have to find it in you to take his inebriation into account but you only feel annoyed.

“Is that why you don't do drugs with me?"

"I don't do drugs with you because I actually value my health-"

"Sick burn," Thanos snorts in his little corner.

Your eyes widen. Your throat tightens.

These aren't your people.

Your people are nestled in the university library, cramming one final time before their semester tests.

Yet here you were, caught under a thick cloud of smoke that had your throat burning, all for a boy.

And admittedly priceless one.

"Don't be an asshole." You turn to glare daggers at him.

"Don't be a prude-" he shoots back. A few locks of hair fall from behind his ear as he watches you with a darkened gaze. "Is that why we haven't had sex yet?" Your heart plummets, "cus you're a virgin?” Namgyu asks. You don't know which side he's on.

"Woah!? A virgin in the flesh-" Thanos hollers, staring at you like a specimen in a petri dish. He nudges the girl under his arm, "I'd cheat on you if you ever tried that shit with me.”

"I know!" The girl responds before turning to look at you with dazed, dilated pupils. "Aren't you scared he's gonna do something if you wait too long?"

These aren't your people.

"If Namgyu wants to sleep with someone then by all means-"

You wrestle out of his iron grip, thanking God for the water that's keeping you sober and steady on your feet.

"Ooh, spicy, spicy-" Thanos mumbles

"Can I go please?" Namgyu keeps his hand in yours, looking up at you with a deadly glare.

"Nah, you leave when I leave, I'm still working-"

You pull your hand out of his.

"I have a test on Tuesday. Goodnight.

Its not like you thought he would follow you. Namgyu was especially selfish, as was the case for most addicts. Right now, you imagine him snapping out of his daze, leaning back over that table, tucking his hair behind his ears as he snorted up whatever Thanos wanted him to.

You didn't think you were being followed and so you feel thoroughly and completely alone once you get to your apartment.

Despite being completely alone this evening, you still try to hide what you're watching on your phone. Your headsets are pulled over your ears, your head reclined against the arm of the couch while your blankie was pulled over your supine frame. You hadn't exactly planned on watching porn this evening but the group's bullying had left you curious.

The girl projected on your phone screen looks up at the actor about to rail her insides. "You've been a bad girl,"

You roll your eyes into the back of your skull. This was precisely why you refrained from mainstream porn. Some of the best stuff was either in your audio files or in your reading list. Visual porn never did much for you- until you scrolled a little too far down to a new, more promising video.

The actress has a crimson handprint on her ass, as her dom forces her to ride her pillow. Despite the difference in skin tone and the overall mediocre acting, you were having a considerable amount of fun imagining yourself in her place. You thought about an invisible collar clamped around your throat with a big, strong, domineering man loomed above you, forcing you to push your clit right up against-

The more you slipped into a pleasure filled haze. You watch with bated breath.

"Sh-it-" you nearly fall off the couch. Your phone plops out of your slippery hands, right onto your face and your headphones slide off. Standing above you, is Namgyu, trying to fight a grin off his face as he stares down at you. You look up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"Wh-when did you get back home?" the words barely leave your mouth before Namgyu's grabbing your phone.

"Naughty, naughty girl," He doesn't seem surprised to see the contents on your screen. In fact, the only giveaway that he saw anything at all is the slight flicker his eyes make towards you, before he stares back down at the phone.

"H-How was 'work'?" You're desperately trying to steer your attention away from the blatant porn on your phone screen, away from the smirk on his face as he bites his lips, away from his exposed tattoos in his short sleeve shirt.

"Work was work." He replied, still watching the porn, "I'm high as shit." He says casually as he disappears into the bedroom, your phone still in his hand.

"Hard too." He says when he returns. Your phone clutched in one hand and the large teddy bear he bought you for your 21st clutched in the other hand. You furrow your brows up at him, confused when he takes a seat on the couch. Your feet against his thigh as he clicks a few buttons on your phone before seating the giant teddy bear beside him.

He grabs the remote before pressing a few buttons.

You freeze when you hear the moans first.

Your gaze catches the TV.

There, the girl from your screen rides her pillow and you're forced to watch.

You're almost too embarrassed to feel turned on. Ungluing your eyes from the TV, you instead watch your hands in your lap.

He places a hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He's sitting comfortably on his side, remarkably unfazed by the girl's pornographic moans.

"Fuck the bear." Is all he says, as he leans against his arm and he strokes your chin. Petting you.

"Wha-"

"You gonna make me ask again?"

It's something in his tone and his hazy, half-lidded gaze that kickstarts your senses as you languidly stand on your feet. You're trembling and he reaches out to interlock your hands in his. Namgyu loved how eager yet innocent you are for him. He can see in the clumsiness of your movements that you were already slipping into subspace. With trembling fingers, you reach up to the thin straps of your pyjama dress and he nods his head.

"Should I take off my panties too?" Your voice is small.

Namgyu tilts his head. "You even have to ask?"

Behind you, the girl's breathing doubles and her moans increase.

"Better hurry or she's gonna cum." He taunts, watching like a stone statue as you mount the bear seated beside him. Namgyu's breathing catches as you straddle the bear, your movements tense and uncertain.

"Fuck the bear-" you lower your cunt onto the fur material and you moan, having not realized how wet you'd actually been this entire evening.

"That's it- fuck." He spreads his legs, leaning back more as he lets his hand brush over the tent in his jeans.

You don't moan because it feels good. It doesn't. Not immediately at least. You moan because Namgyu is watching. Reclined against the couch as his eyes stay on you.

"Ride the plushie like the girl in the video." He says. Your throat dries when he continues to languidly stroke his hand over the bulge in his sweatpants.

"Fuck- Gyu," he knew when the nickname fell from your lips that you were done for.

You both were.

Your eyes steadily roll to the back of your head as you grind your pussy against the bear, already creating a wet spot.

Behind you, you heard the girl moan and whine and somehow that spurrs you on.

"So fucking needy-” you gasp when you feel a hand cupping your exposed breasts. Namgyu reaches over to tweak your nipples just as his other hand finally slips inside his pants.

"Crane your fucking neck back. Try to watch the slut make herself cum." When you do, your hips stutter hard and your clit twitches.

"You watch her." Namgyu commands, stroking his exposed cock, "I'd rather watch you."

As you watch, his mouth runs. Namgyu swore a lot but it doubled when he caught himself in the throes of arousal.

“You look just like that bitch, you know that?”

Your mouth snaps open as you watch her. Your expression is pained.

“You want everyone to think you're such a quiet little girl but your just a slut, yeah?” He speaks lpuder, “Just my fucking slut- fuck.” It nearly causes you to cum everywhere. Her hand is pushing down on the face of the poor, poor pillow as she rides it. You can tell she's close.

Unable to look any longer, you turn back. Your hazy eyes meets Namgyu's dilated ones. He's stroking his cock, head thrown back against the back of the couch, mouth slightly ajar. His cock is throbbing in his hand and he squeezes, showing you the precum sliding down the length.

"Gyu, please-" you grinded harder against the plushy and Namgyu picked up the pace.

"You imagining me fucking you, huh?" He throws his head back, closing, his eyes momentarily close as his cock twitches in his hand.

"Fuck- I-" your clit was rubbing against the plushie just right. Namgyu's fingers mercilessly squeezing your nipples have you seeing stars. This friction was enough.

Fuck.

Air could be enough to let you come in this moment. All you had to do was buck your hips a little more- but the pain blooming across your breasts were distracting you from cumming.

"Please-" your whole body was trembling- "It fucking hurts!"

His mouth falls open at that, before leaning his head against the couch. He squeezes the base of his cock and you watch the precum slide down its length.

"Fuck, say that again-" he brings his head back before stroking his cock faster. "Fuck the plushie, baby," His hips move up from the couch to meet his hand. "Tell me it hurts again-"

He sits up to tweak your nipples again and you whine. "H-Hurts so bad-"

"Yeah, Princess, just like that," he groans, throwing his head back, "Such a stupid fucking slut-" he admits, voice groggy.

Somehow that final degradation has your hips twitching as your clit spasms and you slip into the stars.

The second you cum, Namgyu does too. Cursing and mumrering a quiet and slightly broken, "Fuck- such s-slut-" before reaching over to grab a fistfull of your braids. Your hips are still writhing, your eyes as blank as a corpse as he pulls you forward to spray his cum all over your face.

He squeezes his cock, unable to keep his pretty eyes shut as he watches you writhe and moan. "Fuck me-" he sighs.

"Don't watch this shit again." He says, huffing and puffing. "It's bad for you."

In a second, he presses a button on the remote and the TV screen is black.

"If you need dick, come to me."

"You were making f-fun of me," you grumble under your breath, and you sigh heavily.

Your eyes are shut but you can feel him playing with his cum on your face.

"I wasn't making fun of you. I was just surprised. You're surprising." There's a thick layer of emotion in his voice. It has your body wracking with aftershocks. "You're not like anything I've ever experienced."

[lostalioth]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞

→ premise: all logan wanted after a hard and long day was his girl and if he has to chase her around the house a little. even better.

→ pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, unprotected sex, primal kink [sort of?], logan chase’s reader, free use, nicknames [my girl, baby, sweet girl], daddy kink, logan calls himself daddy [and old man once], bathroom sex

→ a/n: kinktober 14

Logan was a simple man all he needed was his girl after a long hard day. It was an ache deep in his adamantium bones that he couldn't explain. An ache that seeing your pretty face beaming at him the second he pushes open the front door melted from his abused body.

You however decided that today for a little extra fun, you wanted to be a brat and run from Logan instead of greeting him at the door like his good girl. “C’mon you're really gonna make ya’ old man chase you sweet girl?” He groans, barely using any strength or energy as he slowly follows you as you bounce around the house. He was exhausted and yet he couldn't deny that thrill that shot down to his cock as his jeans thighted when he thought of catching you, he knew he could. Admittedly yes he had a large advantage over you, he was a mutant and you weren't. The idea that you couldn't get away even if you tried sent an ache to your core that made you push his buttons further.

“Afraid you won’t catch up to me daddy?” You giggle and tilt your head in his direction as you made the mistake of standing still.

A boardline primal growl leans his lips causing your eyes to widen, your heart thumping harder and faster in your chest. “Ya’ asked for it baby” he chuckles darkly sending shivers down your spine as he rushes forward in a sudden burst of effort. A squeal leaves your lips in surprise as your instincts kick in as fast as humanly is possible and you spin on your heel running away from your beast of a boyfriend.

“Lo!!” You squeak out, a heat spreading through your body in a mixture of fear and arousal as you try your hardest not to get caught just yet. After a few minutes of manganing to practically run from Logan in circles around the house, on impulse you make a wrong turn and run into your shared bedroom and the attached ensuite bathroom. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck” you curse out as you come to a halt suddenly at a dead end.

”Aww you got ya’ self trapped now sweet girl” Logan’s deep voice filled the echoing bathroom, making it feel like he was surrounding you as he creeped up behind you. Right as you spin your body around to face him, he’s on you in a flash pressing you back against the cold counter. “Did you really think you could outrun me baby? Or did the idea of daddy catching you excite ya’? Huh?” He taunts, his large calloused hands encircling your hips as he pushes his body against you further pinning you in place against the bathroom counter. You let out a short pathetic whine when his thumb runs along the band of your skirt toying with it. “Well? Daddy’s waiting on an answer” he presses with his thumbs against your hip bones before one hand travels up and makes its way under your shirt, working at undoing your bra.

“I wanted daddy to catch me” you gasp out when he pops open your bra under your shirt, pushing the straps off your shoulder and letting it fall to the tile floor. Warm rough hand palming over your now exposed breasts.

”Such a bad girl, making me chase ya’ just for some excitement” he tsks as his hand leaves your chest and he turns his attention towards unbuckling his belt and pushing his jeans down his thighs alongside his boxers to free his aching cock. His cock slaps against his stomach, the tip red and leaking down his thick shaft. “Specially’ when ya’ know all daddy wants to come home to is his girl all ready for him to use” he lightly shakes his head, both of his hands now pulling down your skirt revealing the fact you weren't wearing any panties. A rush of cold air hits your exposed bare cunt making you squirm in his hold, your eyes glazing over as you look at the proud look that now over takes Logan's face.

“Oh fuck.. you were ready huh baby? My girls s’sweet to me, not wearing any panties while she’s waiting f’me to get home fuck” he growls out, his tactic of going slow flying out the window now. He quickly pushes your skirt all the way down your legs letting you step out of the puddle of your combined clothes on the floor. Grabbing a hold of your plush ass he is quick to lift you up, sitting you down on the cold marble countertop and wrapping your legs around his wide hips. “Daddy!” You let out a short gasp as he smacks his throbbing tip against your clit before lining it up at your entrance and pushing all the way inside with one sharp and hard thrust.

“S’good for me sweet girl, love my little free use girl” he mumbled out in a slurred together mess, the stress of his long day leaving his body as his hips pull back and snap forward to meet yours, pounding his cock deep inside you. His cock already hitting the spot that makes you see stars repeatedly with every hard thrust into you. “Fuck! Lo~” you cry out, your eyes screwing shut as you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in his neck.

“Thought bout’ this sweet pussy all day baby, just wanted to come home to my sweet baby s’bad” he growls out, his balls tightening the more your cunt clenches down on his cock. Gripping onto the back of your neck he pulls your face away from his shoulder to crash his lips against yours to muffle the groans that slip past his lips in pleasure. Logan never used to be this vocal in bed, not a real big fan of talking during sex but he can't help the sounds and dirty words that fall from his mouth when he is buried to the hilt inside your cunt.

“Daddy m’gonna cum, pleasee let me cum” you plead into his lips in a broken moan as the band in your stomach tightens more and more with each slap of his balls against your ass. “Cum f’me sweet girl” he coos pulling away to rub his thumb over your check watching as his favorite sweet blissed out look spreads across your face when the band snaps.

With a wonton cry of Logan's name and mumbles of ‘thank you’ fill the bathroom you gush all over his cock when your orgasm washes over you. Your cum creates a creamy ring at the base of his cock, his hips not flattering in their thrusting making you let out a whimper as the stimulation steadily becomes too much, his tip abusing your g spot countiually even after your climax ends. “Lo…daddy, cant take no more” you whine out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and the pleasure mixes with slight pain from overstimulation.

“M’sorry sweet girl, daddy isn't done with his girl yet, it’s okay baby just let daddy use ya’ a little more okay?” He grunts out, his fingers digging into your hips as his head falls against your chest, pants and groans tumbling from his mouth mixed in with praise and moans of your name. Logan desperately needed this moment to last just a bit longer before that ache settled into his body again.

→ a/n: i didnt proofread this, im in to much of a rush to get this out today as well as start on the two fics i need to post to to get on track with kinktober

[all-with-angel]

—Doomed by the narrative

❥ Why JJK men wouldn't last in a relationship

❥ Gojo, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna

❥ SATORU GOJO

He'd always thought that your relationship was a means to an end. it's not like he doesn't love you, gods no. It's just he had also never thought you two would last as long as you thought it would.

He could never see himself growing old with you. At least, thats what he’d like to say.

In truth, sometimes he’d sit quietly, let himself daydream about a future. The day he’d get wrinkles and he’d kiss yours, cook a smaller breakfast— light and easy, less sugar than when he was younger, before drinking coffee together in the backyard. But he never let himself think about it too much, lest he fool himself into believing it could happen.

There was always this quiet undercurrent, something just beneath the glittering surface of his charm, his teasing smiles, the way he wrapped himself around you like a koala. But Satoru Gojo was the strongest. And the strongest was nothing if not alone.

Maybe you knew that, in some suppressed part of your mind.

He knew it, better than anyone.

Satoru Gojo had a habit of deflecting whenever you’d ask about the future. Something disguised as a joke, something to tease you. But never to answer the question. You’d ask about what plans he had for the two of you, and he’d reply, “Awww~ Thinking that far ahead already? You must love me soo much! Hmmm?~” Right before covering your face in kisses and tickling you, leading you to screech and try to run away— Making you forget what you had asked him in the first place.

He never stopped moving. With the way he flitted from mission to mission, country to country, night after restless night without him beside you. You’d wake up and he was already getting dressed, giving you a quick kiss before going out. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t care about you. If anything, it was the opposite.

He cared so much, so deeply, it scared him. And Gojo wasn’t used to being scared. Power came easy. Strength was a fact. But loving someone? Choosing someone and staying? That was a whole different battlefield.

He tried of course. But it was just once. One time he let himself be comfortable, one time he let his guard down again. That one time made him realize that he’d have to be vulnerable with you–-- And he couldn’t afford that. Not when your life was on the line too.

Satoru Gojo was born with too much power, too many expectations, too many ghosts clinging to his heels. He was a man meant to die young or live long enough to lose everything. And he knew it. He carried it in his bones, in the way he touched you with hands that never lingered quite long enough. He spoke in half-promises. He held you like you were real and fragile and already gone. Like he had already lost you.

To him, you were always temporary. You were a life raft in a sea of blood. Fleeting, necessary, but never permanent. His reason for keeping you around was selfish. For him. To keep him company. Something fun to distract from his inevitable end. He was a weapon, through and through.

Satory Gojo could never be human with you. 

In the end, he really wasn’t.

❥ KENTO NANAMI

He settled for you. It's not like he doesn't love you, don't get me wrong, it's just that he doesn't love you in the way you love him— You were easy to love, handed to him on a silver platter. You practically threw yourself at him when he was just being nice. Polite. 

He pitied you, really. You could've had better standards. Maybe given him a chase for your love. Make him earn it.

Maybe that's why he chose to settle for you, because you were easy. Because it was quick.

Nanami had always felt like his life was sand falling through his fingers, he felt like he needed to actually live it. And quick. He knew his years on this world as a sorcerer wouldn't be long, and he’d be damned if he didn’t take this chance.

A year after the two of you met, he married you.

Marrying you seemed like the obvious choice to him, he wanted to settle down and have a family anyway. He'd support you through your problems, but not because he loved you, not because he deeply cared for you, but because it was his responsibility. That's what you are to him. Someone to protect, someone to take care of. Not someone to love so deeply that it would have him on his knees.

A year into your marriage with Nanami Kento, the cracks started to show. The perfect paradise that he had set up to keep you with him for longer, shattered.

He overworked himself, for you and our future children, he’d mutter before leaving for work. Nanami would be stressed, coming home late and collapsing into bed. You'd offer to give him some relief, some loving after a month or so of a stagnant bedroom, and he brushed you off like another chore. Later, he gave you flowers and an apology. But he never brought up the subject again. Neither did you.

He prioritized work and it became even worse when he had switched careers— One that he didn’t even tell you about. Nanami was secretive about it. And every night where you’d ask him, his answers would be more vague and different than the last.

You accused him of cheating, tears flowing down your face while he stood stoic in the doorway. Then he sighed. Tired. As if this was a chore.

He comforted you, reassured you that his loyalty lies with you. And yet it all sounded rehearsed, fake. A customer service level performance to soothe you into being calmer. This happened again and again and again and again.

At some point, you couldnt take the secrets anymore. The tired and still feeling of the cold band on your finger feeling like an actual chain rather than the grapevines and flowering start of the relationship.

In the end, you divorced him. Nanami tried to take it to marriage therapy, but after getting shut down once, he simply accepted the fact that you could not love a man that never loved you in the first place.

A few months later, you get a letter from his lawyer saying that he had given everything under his name to you. 

❥ TOJI FUSHIGURO

It wasn’t that Toji didn’t care. He just didn’t care enough to change.

It worked for a while. The fire, the thrill. The sex was good- great, even. Violent in its affection, like he didn’t know how to be soft but wanted to try.

The first time you brought it up, it was quiet– mindless. A gentle, “Hey, could you not leave your weapons all over the place?” as you picked up a blade half-hidden under the couch cushions. Toji had smirked and shrugged, like it was endearing. “Part of the décor, baby,” he said with that cocky grin, pressing a kiss to your temple like it would smooth over the issue.

You laughed, then. You actually laughed. But that laugh started getting harder to find.

It wasn’t just the weapons. It was the blood. The bruises. The fact that he’d vanish for three days without so much as a text or a warning, come home with some half-assed excuse and the stench of blood still clinging to him like a second skin. You knew what he was. Who he was. You weren’t naïve. You didn’t walk into this thinking Toji Fushiguro was some nine-to-five kind of guy with a clean conscience.

Still, you thought— hoped, really, that being with you might pull some of that recklessness back. That love, whatever version he had for you, might temper the edge just a little. But Toji wasn’t the type to be tempered. He was a blade through and through. Cold steel, sharp and uncompromising.

“I just worry,” you told him one night, tired, not even mad anymore— just drained. He’d come home limping, one hand pressed against a wound that looked deeper than he let on, and he was already halfway to raiding the fridge like it was any other night.

“I didn’t die, did I?” he clicked his tongue, cracking open a beer. “What’re you nagging for?” Sharp. Irritated. Like your concern was some bug buzzing in his ear.

Toji hated being told things. That was the real issue. Because he didn’t see it as concern. He saw it as control. And he'd be damned if he let himself be controlled. Every reminder to rest. Every note to clean up after himself. Every request to maybe not take jobs that had a 70% chance of disembowelment. 

He took it all the same way— a leash being thrown around his neck. One all too familiar.

He started snapping more after that. Leaving earlier. Coming back later. You’d find yourself alone more often than not, curled up on the couch, the only proof of his existence a trail of blood-streaked bandages in the bathroom and the faint scent of gunpowder in the air.

You asked him once, annoyed, but you realized too late that you were afraid of the answer–- if he even wanted to be in a relationship.

He gave you a look like you'd asked if grass wanted to be green. “I like fucking you. That not enough?”

You loved him. You really did.

But love wasn’t supposed to feel like sitting on a time bomb, praying it wouldn’t go off while you slept. Wasn’t supposed to drain you as you tried to help him, all the while that help was barely doing anything.

“You want someone domestic,” he said, voice low as he lit a cigarette on the balcony, not even looking at you. “Go find some salaryman, yeah? Someone who’ll do chores with you on Sundays.”

“I want you,” you said.He finally looked at you, eyes flat. “No. You want me different.”

❥ SUKUNA RYOUMEN

He does not know how to love. And while he is fully capable to learn, to choose to love you–- He won’t.  Learning how to love would take him years, if not your entire lifespan to do. Even then, it will be the farthest thing from perfect. Obviously, you never expected Sukuna to love you the way you loved him.

Not with softness. Not with kind whispered words. Before you even loved him, you knew he was different.

You tried, anyway. Gods, you tried.

You were patient with his sharp edges, learned how to navigate his moods like one learns the tides— when to speak, when to listen, when to walk away and let him burn himself out. But you’d still flinch when he’d get mad, yell and reach to break something. The wall, the table— never you, though. 

Not yet, some semblance of self preservation whispered to you.

Still, Sukuna was an untamable storm anyway. You’d act ‘wrong’ and suddenly its your fault that his mood turned sour. You had to walk on eggshells around him, that, or you’d have to quite literally scream your heart out. Fights could last days, weeks. 

Your life with him would be a ticking time bomb, an angry, dangerous man always lingering in your home. And you’d be stupidly naive to think that he’d never raise a hand against you.

Sukuna doesn’t do love. He knows how to tear hearts out of chests, not listen to them beat.

Sukuna was not built to cradle anything he could crush. And you, you would be so easy to destroy. Too easy.  A flick of his wrist, a punch, anything he’d put a sliver of effort into and you would die. He’d thought about it. 

How to kill you. 

The few times he thought about it, something uncomfortable always ate at his chest. But every single time, curiosity also nipped at him. Would you crumble just how he thought you would? Would your bones really crack that easily? 

Would your blood stain him too? Eventually?

The answer is yes. It does.

Masterlist

Ive had this in the draft cave for A MONTH. A MONTH I tell you.

[sceletaflores]

COMING UP QUICK (GOING DOWN SLOW)

|| pedro masterlist || update blog || inbox || taglist || ao3 ||

ೃ⁀➷ PAIR: Joel Miller x fem!reader

ೃ⁀➷ WC: 999

ೃ⁀➷ FOR: the super duper fun @sceletaflores & @ebodebo #ratwritingunder1kwordschallenge

ೃ⁀➷ CONTAINS: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, set post-outbreak, unspecified age gap, joel’s pov, insecurity, lots of dirty talk cause he’s old and gross, oral sex (fem!receiving), pussy pronouns, wet & messy, come eating & swapping, we in fact now know what erectile dysfunction is in this house and we love it, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

ೃ⁀➷ ANON SAYS: Joel giving you filthy, nasty, messy oral after he comes inside you because he feels bad he can’t go for as many rounds as he used to be able to ♡

ೃ⁀➷ NAT’S NOTE: yet another installment of rylea and i being unstoppable…when we lock tf in and work as a team there’s nothing we can’t do. this all started with her daring me to write a fic under a 1k words since we all know that never happens on this blog, and ofc i can’t do a single thing without forcing her to do it too so here we are. plus we’re extra so we decided to make it a whole little challenge that anyone can do if they want! we’re just super whimsical like that. check out the masterlist here! hope y’all love it, mwah!

dividers by @cafekitsune!

joel miller always gives his girl one more round…

You’re still twitching as Joel pulls out.

Your pussy fluttering around him warm and wet like you don’t want to let him go just yet, like you don’t want to believe he’s already finished.

And fuck—neither does Joel.

He sits back on his haunches, panting like he ran a mile through mud, staring down at the mess he made between your thighs. His eyes follow the dirty trail of his come as it spills out of you, thick and slow, dripping down onto the sheets. 

He should be proud of it, the way he marked you, filled you up so good you can’t even hold it all. He used to be, his ego nice and stroked each time he’d leave his claim over you.

All he sees now is how fast it’s over.

It makes something ugly and hateful start wriggling to life beneath Joel’s skin, angry and buzzing through the hollows of his bones like bees. It’s all different now, his body doesn’t obey like it used to. He can’t stand it.

Joel’s age was never something that bothered you. It never put you off or made you stop wanting him—but the two of you have been together for a good while now, and he’s only getting older.

You're still young, in the prime of your life. All bright eyed and fiery and you're wasting it on a bitter old man who can barely get his dick up anymore. Joel’s more weathered, worn. Old bones and greying hair, more and more creases decorating the skin of his face.

Still, you never complain.

All that doesn’t change how you look at him like he hung the damn moon, and he tries his best to believe it. Tries his best to believe it when you tell him that he’s enough, but he knows better. 

You deserve more than one or two rounds before his cock is spent and lying uselessly limp on his thigh, his body aching and swamped with exhaustion. 

A younger man would have flipped you over and fucked you all damn night. Would’ve made you come again and again without breaking a sweat. Would’ve kept going until your thighs were shaking and your pussy was swollen and well fucked.

Joel used to be that man. 

“Used to” is a phrase that pisses him off more than he’d ever admit.

Joel’s not the man he used to be, so he does what he can. 

You’re still laid out for him—sweat dotted along your skin, thighs shaking, and pretty, so goddamn pretty. And somehow, he’s the one who gets to see you like this, warm and panting like you’re starved for more.

He’d never leave you like that, something buried deep in his gut just won’t let him.

So now, even as his cock flags between his legs and the muscle of his thighs ache with something fierce, he lowers himself anyway. The comforter makes soft shushing sounds under his palms, bunching around his knees as he settles between your legs.

“Joel?” Your head rises off the pillow, a confused little pinch between your brows. “Come back here, s’cold.”

He doesn’t answer, just trails kisses over the sweaty skin of your leg. Over the jagged scar across your left hip, over the bend of your knee, over the crease where your thigh meets your pelvis.

Lower and lower until his warm breath ghosts over the glossy expanse of your pussy.

“Look at that,” Joel murmurs, voice low and hoarse, like it scrapes up from the pit of his stomach. “Shit. You make me so fuckin’ proud, baby.”

His fingers part your lips, spreading you wide. “Still fuckin’ twitchin’,” he murmurs, dragging his knuckle over your entrance. “Poor thing’s still hungry, ain’t she?”

You open your mouth to say something—something reassuring, probably, something sweet he doesn’t deserve—but you never get the chance.

Joel bends low and licks a fat, slow drag up the slick mess he made between your legs.

He groans into your pussy—vulgar, guttural. The taste of you and him tangled together hits his tongue. Salt and sweat and musk and something sweeter. That thick, filthy taste of his come still leaking out of you and into his mouth.

You cry out, hips bucking, but he just grabs your thighs tighter, pins you down, keeps going. “Joel—shit, oh my god—”

“That’s it, sweet thing.” He presses a wet kiss over your clit, your thighs twitch around his head. “Taste’s so fuckin’ good, creamy little pussy’s makin’ your old man’s mouth water.”

You cry out when he drags his tongue up the mess leaking down your folds, catching every drop, sloppier than he’s ever been. Filthy, desperate sounds coming from his mouth—wet slurps, heavy breathing, growls low in his throat.

You’re close already. He feels it when you start to shake. Hears the way your voice cracks when you cry his name. “Joel—Joel, I’m gonna—fuck—”

“Go on, baby. Wanna feel you come. Wanna taste how sweet this pussy gets for me.”

Your thighs clamp tight around his head when it hits you, back arching, pussy spasming around his fingers like it’s trying to milk them, and Joel fuckin’ growls into you. Keeps his tongue on you through every wave, licking and sucking and moaning like a goddamn animal.

When it gets to be too much, when your feet start kicking at his shoulders and your breath catches on a sob, then he pulls back.

But not for long.

Joel crawls up the shaking length of your body, cranes his neck down and kisses you before he can stop himself. His lips fit perfectly with yours, slotting together slow and deep. You moan into his mouth, arms snaking around his neck as he glides his tongue over yours so you can taste it all. 

You. Him. The pure need pulsing through his veins.

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

“Let me do it again,” Joel begs against your lips. “Let me make it up to you, darlin’.”

And he does.

MINI NAT'S NOTE: love how i constantly yap about fucking that old man while i myself am toting around three (3) new knee braces, roll on icy hot, AND a super fancy prescribed pain cream at all times…like babes, you ARE the old man. he’d be digging in my purse for the extra strength advil just as much as i am.

also to the anon that sent this in…thank you. thank you so much. this is exactly what i needed, both in and out of the context of this challenge LMAO. i can’t tell you how much i struggled with this whole thing, like i literally started and scrapped two fics before i found this god send of an ask wrongfully collecting dust in my inbox. i hope you’re freak has been matched and you love it.

thank you so much for reading chickens, love you!

[tangerineastronaut]

can you do a yunho reader thigh riding where shes his gf

Missed You | j.yunho

Pairing: Idol!Yunho x Nonceleb!Reader Genre: Smut/Fluff (MDNI) - mostly smut, very little fluff but still a main theme. Requested: Yes w.c. 3.5k Warnings: Thigh riding, established relationship, praise, slight degradation (nothing in a hateful way), size kink if you squint, namecalling, pet names, humping, I think that's it? If you notice any potentially triggering content not listed here please let me know. A/N: Hello lovelies ~ it feels so good to be back. I haven't written in a while but after browsing some of the amazing fanfic writers here it really made me miss it. Thank you to anon for my very first request! Also, this is poorly edited so please don't mind any errors. I will likely edit it in the future if I find any. Please excuse my rusty skills as well, I promise I'll get better! Requests: Open ~ please see the guidelines for requesting here.

5 months. 

For 5 months, your gorgeous golden retriever boyfriend had been gone on tour, and you were expected to endure a meal with him and the members. They’d landed just hours ago and were no doubt exhausted, but Yunho looked as unfairly beautiful as ever. There were shadows under his eyes and he definitely seemed to be craving home, but the moment he’d spotted you when you walked into the restaurant…god. His tongue had slid over his lower lip, likely thinking about the way you taste, long fingers raking down his pants as if to stop the tingling spreading through him. He was wearing casual clothes, just a hoodie and a pair of jeans, but nothing could hide the art of his figure. Tall and lean, toned where it counts. His broad shoulders, his chest and stomach that you loved peppering with kisses. And those thighs. 

You’d never really considered how sexy a man’s thighs were until you’d met Jeong Yunho. Muscular and thick, perfect for sitting on when he was in the mood to game for hours. Fine with you—was there anything more fun than teasing your lanky gamer boyfriend in the middle of a match? Squirming in his lap, making him fumble the controller and lose until you were bent in half, said boyfriend sinking into you?

Dinner. 

Dinner dinner dinner. 

You were proud of the boys and knew this was important, so despite wanting to jump his bones, you kept yourself in check and listened to the bickering between Woo and Jongho, beginning to wonder if Seonghwa had opted to dye his hair white to hide the grey caused by his children. 

You were about to scold them yourself to give the poor Captain and His Wife™ a break, but a warm hand sliding up your thigh made the words die in your throat in an embarrassingly high pitched sound. You coughed to cover it up—thank god for Woo as no one was paying attention to you—and glanced up at Yunho.

“I missed you baby,” he hummed, low enough that only you could hear. His pretty lips formed a smirk that wasn’t as sweet as his words. You smiled up at him, placing your smaller hand on top of his and squeezing, silently begging him to leave you the fuck alone before you drag him to the bathroom. 

“Missed you too,” you reply, making a visible effort to turn back to the conversation you weren’t part of. 

You’d hoped he was just being coy, teasing you a bit, but he apparently wasn’t satisfied with your reaction as his hand slipped inward. He wasn’t far above your knee, but it didn’t matter, making you clamp your legs together and grip his wrist beneath the table. The smug bastard smiled, hiding it in his glass as he took a sip of water. 

It was irritating, the mere fact that his large hand spanned much of your upper leg making you squirm. It was far too easy for him to rile you up, while he managed to maintain composure most of the time. You bit the inside of your cheek and released his wrist, your own hand moving to his lap. Yunho stiffened a bit, but that was it. You spread your fingers over his thigh, squeezing once before gently moving your hand side to side. 

When he turned to San and casually asked about next week’s practice schedule, it felt like a slap to the face. 

You’ve been dating for 3 years. You’ve fucked countless times on many, many surfaces. But when your fingers slid toward his crotch and found his cock already fully erect, you tore your hand away as though it had burned you. The bickering had died down, so to hide the flush on your face you took a sip of water. Yunho hadn’t even flinched, still conversing, unbothered, and wearing that cocky little grin. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You almost felt guilty about the buzz you felt as everyone began to say goodbye, promising to rest before work started up again next week. You could’ve sworn Yunho was purposefully talkative tonight, as you knew damn well he didn’t care whether or not Yeosang’s apartment had more than one elevator. By the time he was willing to humor you, you were all but vibrating next to the company’s black SUV, the driver waiting much more patiently than you. 

Yunho had the audacity to ask if you were ready to go, his warm hand sliding over the small of your back. You nodded so quickly you were almost dizzy. 

The SUV was quite tall, and you were…quite not. So when he opened the door for you, you prepared to climb inside ungracefully, but your boyfriend placed both hands on your hips and lifted you into the vehicle. You had no time to react, as he was climbing in after you. You prepared to shuffle across the seat to give him space, but he easily caught your wrist and yanked you across his lap. One hand gathered both of your wrists, the other resting calmly over your ass. You both glanced over at the same time to make sure the divider was closed. 

“Someone’s horny,” he chuckled warmly, the hand on your ass moving in a slow circle. You frowned, tugging your wrists out of his grasp so you could sit up. Your hands found his shoulders and you swung a leg over his waist, straddling him but not letting your full weight rest against his cock just yet. 

“Jeong fucking Yunho—I have been waiting 5 months for you and not just so you can grope me in a restaurant,” you grumble, fisting his hoodie. 

“Technically speaking, all I did was touch your thigh. You, however, grabbed my—”

You shut him up with a kiss, mushing your mouth against his so hard you could feel your teeth pressing the inside of your lips. Yunho’s large hands found your waist, squeezing, trying to pull you down against his aching groin. You resist by using your knees, the grunt of irritation escaping him making you laugh.

“What’s funny?” Yunho asked, sucking your lower lip between his teeth. The shock made you gasp, and he used the opportunity to buck off of the seat of the car, hips meeting the plush underside of your ass. 

Unwilling to let him win whatever the hell this was, you moved a knee between you, coming dangerously close to his clothed cock. 

“Nothing, just my desperate boy acting like a dog,” you hum breathlessly. “All worked up, trying to call me out as the slut here.”

“You fucking—” Yunho grumbled. He wrapped both arms around you, crushing you against his chest and leaving you no choice but to straddle him again. This time, he hugged you tight; you could hardly breathe as he rutted against you so hard that it made you squeak. 

You wanted to do more than pitifully submit, but you thanked the gods you’d decided to wear a dress, as each dry thrust pushed his cock right against your clothed clit. It was shameful how needy you felt, already able to feel a second heartbeat between your legs, the familiar ache as your cunt woke up from its 5 month hibernation.

“Thought about you every night,” Yunho groaned, his breath coming out in pants as he did all he could to create friction between your bodies. “You have no idea, baby. ‘m gonna fuck you until we pass out.”

“Yeah?” you manage to weakly spit out, your fingers curling into the material of his hoodie. You knew you should do more, give more, but your head was spinning, mouth dry from moments of contact after so long. 

“Yeah. You’re gonna make those sounds for me, just like you did over the phone. Want you to say my name,” he says, his head falling back against the seat. “Fucking pillows…nothing looks as pretty as you.”

“P-Pillows?” you mumble, pulling back enough to look at him, his hips still working against your body. He licks his lips, eyes squinted as he looks over your face, nodding. 

“Mm.”

“You…you fucked a pillow?”

“Mhm. ‘s soft and I can hold it down just like you, pretend it’s my girl taking me so good,” he rambles, not an ounce of shame in his tone. 

Fuck. 

You’d used fingers and toys, nothing doing what he could do for you. You assumed he used his hand—knew it, actually, based on the sparse dirty phone calls you’d managed to have. But the idea of Yunho, your gigantic boyfriend, desperately fucking against a pillow because it reminds him of you…it did something to you, woke something up that you were not proud of. You wanted to see it. 

“Gonna hurt you…”

“H-huh?” you stammer, your cheeks flushing red despite your current state as you were caught daydreaming about Yunho and the poor pillow.

“It’s gonna hurt, baby. Need you wet,” he breathes. He reaches his hand between you, catching you off guard as he swipes beneath your panties, rubbing the sticky wetness of your cunt. You let out a broken moan, your hole clenching around nothing like muscle memory as you think of those long fingers pumping into you. 

“I’m wet Yuyu,” you say, silently praying he gives you something, even just a finger to the first knuckle. But Yunho shakes his head, hands settled on your hips. 

“Not enough…I’m telling you it’s going to hurt. Need you to cum first.”

“When we get home—”

“Now, y/n,” he says. His voice isn’t mean, not even commanding like it can be, but it still sends a shiver down your spine. 

“O-Okay,” you mumble shyly, glancing back as if the driver might decide to open the divider. He didn’t, probably knowing better. “Use your fingers.”

“No,” Yunho mumbles. He easily manipulates your body until you’re perched atop one thigh. “Like this. Love it when you ride me.”

You exhale, situating yourself until your cunt is pressed against his jeans. Your hands tighten their grip on his shoulders, and you meet his eyes as you begin to move, grinding against his leg. Yunho’s mouth opens, a gasped curse leaving his mouth as you lick your lips. 

“Faster baby,” he murmurs, eyes trailing over you as you rut against him, “want you desperate. Want you to whine.”

“Fuck,” you say to no one, rolling your hips forward. Yunho grips the seat on either side of you both, fingers twitching like he wants to grab you and move you himself. But he just watches, licking his lips and nodding as you drive yourself to the edge on his thigh. 

You feel him flex, the hardened muscle beneath you offering a firmness that makes you shudder. There’s a hotness between your legs as your juices coat his thigh, creating a wet patch on his jeans. After so many months, you’re sensitive, but unfamiliar with the movement as you struggle to hit the mark. 

You falter, pausing to catch your breath. 

“Don’t stop, baby,” Yunho says, his voice almost a whine. Your head falls forward on his shoulder, shame making your face warm. 

“It’s been a while,” you mumble. “Sorry, yu.”

“Want me to help? Hm? Need me to make you feel good?” he whispers, lips catching your cheek. You nod weakly, fisting his hoodie again as his warm hands move to your waist, squeezing once before he begins to move you. Your body is like putty to him, and he grinds you down against his thigh like a doll. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks, burying his face against your hair. You nod, unable to say much. He does it just right, somehow knowing your body better than you do.

Yunho reaches between you, hooking his thumb into the front of your panties and tugging them to the side. You gasp as your bare clit makes contact with his jeans, able to feel just how much you’d soaked through them. The thought makes you buck against him, catching the friction yourself with a choked gasp. 

“That’s it, baby,” Yunho says, one hand going back to the seat while the other keeps your panties pulled to the side. “Like that. Let me see you use me to make that pretty cunt wet.”

“Fuck, Yunho,” you whimper, your hips beginning to move in a steady rhythm. He hums in approval, biting his lower lip hard as he watches you carefully. You groan and wrap both arms around his shoulders, squeezing your eyes closed as you grind hard against his thigh. The scent of his cologne is stronger now that he’s sweating, the smell making you dizzy and needy. You lower your head to his throat and kiss him there, tasting the saltiness of his skin while your tongue leaves a wet trail.

“There she is,” he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. You whimper and mouth at his skin, nipping and sucking as you work yourself to destruction on him. He groans as you latch onto his pulse point, using his free hand to grip your hair and pull you off of him.

“Be good,” he chuckles softly. You bite your lower lip, eyes wide and brows tight, hands moving up to scratch gently at the nape of his neck. 

All it takes is a few seconds of you staring at him like that, still rutting helplessly against his thigh, needing to mark him up. Yunho sighs and leans back to get his hands between you, grabbing both his hoodie and shirt and tugging them over his head. His chest and stomach are revealed, your hands immediately palming at his skin. He nods and runs his thumb over your lower lip. 

“Go ahead baby,” he hums. “Nothing above my collar bones, yeah?”

You nod obediently and kiss him softly, his lips plush and warm as always. You want to cry at the sensation of coming home, despite the fact that you were currently humping your hot boyfriend’s thigh during the longest car ride to your apartment ever. 

You go for his shoulders first, you bite down and get your hips back into rhythm, relishing in his hiss of pain. Your teeth leave marks as you let go, breath hot against his skin. 

Your nails leave half moon crescents as they work with your teeth, leaving a trail of love bites over the expanse of his chest. You’ve momentarily forgotten the goal here, though Yunho has no trouble reminding you. When you go in to kiss him again, he catches a fistful of your hair once more. 

“You don’t want my cock going in like this,” he murmurs, free hand gently smacking your thigh. “Running out of time, babygirl.”

“I’m wet, Yunho,” you whine, bouncing in irritation. “Jus’ wanna kiss you. I can take it.”

Yunho stares at you for a few seconds, eyes trailing over your form where you’ve paused your movement. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you huff, rolling your eyes. Since when can you not take his cock? He was huge, sure, but it’s not like you’ll break. 

“How much?”

“What?”

“How much?” he repeats, his hand slipping between you again. You try not to react as his thumb goes beneath your sticky panties, easily sliding over your swollen clit. 

“All of it,” you scoff, unsure of what he was saying. Yunho smiles. 

“No, I mean how much? How long can you take it? I’m not gonna stop, baby,” he says roughly. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Gonna fuck you until you can’t move…still gonna fuck you until you ask me to stop.”

You pause at this, licking your lips and jolting at the heat sprouting from between your thighs. 

“I-I can take it still,” you mumble, grinding down against his hand. He moves it, tugging your panties again, the cooled wetness of his jeans making you shiver. 

“I’m gonna take my fill, baby,” he says, watching you move against his thigh. “Been practicing. Edging myself for months. Gotta make sure I use that pretty pussy until it’s wrecked and full of my cum.”

You squeak, your brain trying to think of a good response to that. Yunho chuckles and lifts his knee, making you involuntarily buck against him. 

“You gonna shut up now and make sure you can do that for me? Get that little cunt wet enough so I can use it as much as I need to?” 

“Y-yes,” you stammer. His dark eyes drop to see the result of your grinding, the wetness beneath you. 

“Good girl,” Yunho nods. “Come on. Harder baby, need you to make a mess on my jeans.”

You do as he asks, grinding hard against his thigh, biting your lower lip as he alternates, flexing and relaxing the muscle beneath you. You move your hand to his and push it away, tugging your panties aside in one hand and gripping his shoulder with the other, looking down with parted lips because holy shit—you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet. 

He feels so fucking good, there’s so much more you need from him, want to do for him, but you promised you’d cum. So you rub and grind and clench your teeth until you’re mumbling incoherently, much to his delight. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl. So fucking pretty and stupid when she gets desperate, can’t understand a word you’re saying,” he says, hands finding your waist. You sob and begin clumsily rutting against him, no rhythm whatsoever, just desperation and chasing physical sensations. Yunho loves to see it, coaxing you over the edge the closer you get. 

“That all you’ve been thinking about, baby? All your holes getting stuffed? Bet you miss waking me up with my cock in your throat.”

You whimper and nod, eyes shut tight as your orgasm remains just out of reach. You need him to do it, to finish you off, you’re not sure what that would be, just that you want him to help. 

“M-More yu, gimme more,” you whine softly, mouth open like a dog as you pant. 

“More? More what? I haven’t given you anything, babygirl,” he chuckles. You’re not in the mood to play with words, but Yunho suddenly grabs your chin, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. You feel the burn of tears as you squirm and rut, his eyes full of satisfaction. 

“You still gonna ask for more when I’m stuffed inside you?” he asks roughly. You nod eagerly, but Yunho only smirks. 

“Knew you would, baby. Such a fucking slut for me. I tell you to ride me and here you are, too needy to realize we would’ve been home half an hour ago.”

“H-Huh?” you mumble out, that knot in your stomach untwisting. “F-Fuck, ‘m… g-gonna—”

“Gonna what? Ruin my jeans with your pretty pussy? All so I can get my cock inside as soon as I get you home?”

“Yunho,” you sob, a gasp on your lips as you begin to cum, eyes squeezing shut. 

You ride out one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, mouth open, nothing coming out but pitiful squeaks and choked sobs. Yunho watches, lip caught between his teeth, holding you tight as you briefly leave this plane of existence in his arms.

“So fucking beautiful,” he breathes when you finally open your eyes, releasing a mixture between a cry and a sigh. “My good girl. I’m the luckiest man on this planet, baby.”

You choose to breathe rather than respond, but he’s fine with that, hugging you to his bare chest and cupping the back of your head. 

“I love you so much, you know that?” he says, words muffled as he speaks against your hair. “Can’t wait to get you home. Gonna show you how much I missed you.”

He runs his fingers through your damp hair. You know you look wrecked already, and you’ll be shocked if you last more than one round tonight. But you’ll try for him.

“M-Missed you too, yuyu,” you weakly reply. “Why…why aren’t we home?”

Yunho laughs, brushing your hair back to kiss your temple. 

“Arranged for us to ride around for a bit beforehand. Figured one of us would cave at the restaurant,” he admits. You look up at him, the stupid boyish grin on his face making you smile. 

“I love you,” you huff. He leans down, lips soft and unhurried against yours for what feels like the first time that night. He tastes no different, feels no different than he did 5 months ago, and it livens you up a bit, much to his amusement. 

“I love you too, pretty.”

[yarnabee]

THE DOCTOR HEADCANNON — BEING HIS PLAYTHING.

harley sawyer ( the doctor ) x reader

tags/warnings: sfw (15+), light gore, torture/impact, power imbalance, degradation, abusive behaviour, posessive behaviour, kidnapping i suppose

sawyer is a HUGE jerk to everyone, including to his own little precious plaything, you. of course, such a cold, dense body made out of metal wouldn't make sense if it had a heart, wouldn't it?

besides.. your timid reactions to his sick, little experiments were what piqued his interest in the first place. what a lovely sight it is to see a flesh roaming around his prison like a helpess, pathetic rat who lost its way home. whether you writhe, yelp, whine, sob, or scream.. it's all melody to his ears.

he loves purposefully letting you escape from his lair, making you think that there's still hope to escape his hellish prison. just as you thought you were free of his grasp, he'll pin you, his beloved trophy, down—his mechanical figure hovering over you, eyes daunting as it pierces towards your cowardly ones, squeezing your neck tightly with his iron first, making sure that you knew there's no use fighting someone much stronger than you are. oh, how he loves watching the glint of hope fading from your pupils—dulling them with fear instead. he'd purposefully taunt you, mocking you with his laugh as it echoes through the hallways, "you really thought you could escape me, hmm? what an interesting thing you are, little rat."

oh, how he loves turning every single thing into a game that he knew you'd lose from the very beginning. it's amusing to see how you'd react time to time, whether you try to fight back or whimper out of fear, he feasts on it nonetheless. he'll purposefully make you play hide and seek with him, taunt you with his creaking footsteps, then having his way with you once he got his fingers wrapped tightly around you—dragging you into his lair once again as your fights and cries means nothing to him. "don't try to fight, little rat. i know you're at least smart enough to understand why."

don't get him wrong, though. just because he's able to leave cuts and bruises all over your delicate skin doesn't mean any of those filthy creatures roaming outside has the right to leave a scratch on you, not even a single one. oh, how sawyer wouldn't even think twice to rip appart the limbs off those past experiments who still roams in the area, who dares to touch you without any permission. you're his plaything, and only his. no one else.

the doctor wants you to DEPEND on him, just like how yarnaby depends on him and obeys him like a God. he wants your pathetic self to see him as YOUR lifeline, as he purposefully brings the necessities you need such as food and medicines, his mechanical joints placing them gently next to you without saying anything. afterall, he needs his little lab rat on good condition to play with, no?

at times where he's not running any 'experiments' and 'games' on you, he always kept you inside of his lab—no contact is allowed without his permission. he'd occassionally let yarnaby roam around and get used up to your presence, but he won't let you or it get too attached to each other.

he barely speaks to you, his answers are either mockery or straight degradation. you never really ask him anything about his motives too, he never liked it when you were curious. "say, little rat, i'd be amused if you hadn't learn what happens to curious little rats who gets too nosy."

a little fun fact; the doctor can easily destroy you if he wanted to. he always lets you know through his grips—how he's controlling it steadilly, letting you know that if he puts just the littlest more effort into squeezing you, you'd have your bones crushed within seconds—and he makes sure that you always remember that at all times.

"now, little rat, go on and amuse me. let's see what else i can get out off you."

[ozzgin]

I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol

If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!

Best wishes

-🌟

I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)

Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)

Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

TW: violence

(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)

"Fantastic show tonight!"

The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.

"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin. 

"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."

You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop. 

Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.

Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.

So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.

"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.

That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.

When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged. 

You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.

Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:

"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"

You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar. 

"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"

As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.

"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.

"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously. 

As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.

You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top. 

"Should we leave?"

You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.

"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."

He grins at your last statement.

"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"

You nod.

"Then let's get you undressed, miss."

Is this what they call a scary dog privilege? 

[strawberryfanaticccc]

can you watch my boyfriend, please? - m. sturniolo

🫧 matt sturniolo x fem!reader

🫧 the “can you babysit my boyfriend” tiktok couples trend with matt!!

🫧 just fluff.

🫧 549 words.

🫧 hi lovelies!! thank u so very much for wanting to read! this trend is so cutie to me, and i initially did a chris version of this & it made me want to do one for the others (nick version) as well, so i did!! i hope you enjoy reading bc they were very fun to write!! <3 masterlist

“Hi guys.” Matt looks up from his phone at the sound of your voice. “Can you watch my boyfriend, please? I just need to run into the store real quick, I’ll be back soon, I promise!” You say propping your phone up on the dashboard.

He watches as you open the car door and step out, shutting it softly after. His confused eyes follow your figure as it walks into the convenience store.

“Uhh,” he mutters out, looking into the camera. “I don’t- I’m-”

He looks down at his phone, his fingers doing a little dance across the screen. He lets out a small breath before he looks back up.

“Did you guys know that bees don’t have bones? I mean I’m pretty sure it’s well known at this point, but I just wanted to share in case you didn’t, well, y’know, know.”

A silence fills up the car for what feels like an eternity to Matt, but is only a few seconds. He looks down at his cup holder.

“Oh,” he lets out softly. “Chris left one of his Skittles Littles in here. You guys want some?” He asks, popping the top open, and pouring some into his palm. He then holds the candy container to the camera.

“Oh, did you also know that dogs can have pineapple, but only in moderation! Of course Trevor’s fatass doesn’t like pineapple,” he adds with a laugh.

Silence fills up the car once more as Matt munches on Chris’ forgotten Skittles. “He’s gonna be pissed at me when he finds out I ate his candy, but I don’t really give a fuck. I think I bought these for him actually.”

“Okay, wait, but I’m seriously running out of things to write for my Instagram captions. I think I’m just gonna abandon them or resort to using random ass emojis.”

Matt looks over at the sound of the passenger door opening, and you getting in setting a plastic bag down at your feet.

“What’d you buy?” He asks.

“Candy and cherry Arizona ice tea,” you reply with a grin, reaching for your phone. “Anyway, thanks for watching him for me, guys! I hope he was good for you.”

“‘Course I was good,” Matt mumbles out.

You chuckle. “‘Course you were, my love,” you reassure, placing a kiss on his nose, laughing at the way it scrunches up at the action. That’s the last thing the camera captures before the recording ends.

—

comments

he was a lil nervy at first, but once he warmed up he told us some fun facts. did eat his brothers candy, but told us he payed for it. 10/10 would babysit again 😊

trevor mention lesgooo 🔥🔥🔥❤️❤️❤️

i feel like chris forgetting his candy has the same effects as him forgetting his pepsi, but slightly less severe

thank u for the skittles matthew! <3

oh he was so cutie for offering us some candy 🥺

nose scrunch ahhh 🥹💓

brief mattitude there at the end i see 🤭

ur so real for the insta caption thing. it’s so tiring having to think of them

hey god it’s me again..

the anxiety/nervous keyboard finger dance, REAL

i want what they have so bad but i won’t get it, so i’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight 😁

[stillalivebydemand893]

Mosh Pits & Real Bruises

18+(can't keep it pg13 even if i tried)

A chaotic weekend at Riot Fest becomes a battle of unresolved tension when you’re forced to share a tent with Erik

The moment you stepped out of Julia’s Jeep and into the chaos of Riot Fest, you knew this weekend was going to end in either sex, arson, or both.

Mud. Music. Mayhem.

And him.

Erik. Fucking. Campbell.

Shirtless. Covered in tattoos. Sunglasses on despite the fact it was cloudy as shit. Holding a six-pack of root beer like it was the Holy Grail and he was the sin-soaked Indiana Jones of your nightmares.

You froze. Eyeliner? Shaking.

“JULIA,” you hissed.

“What?” she replied, with the stone-cold cool of someone who definitely knew what she did. She popped her gum like a villain. “I thought you’d be happy. I put you in the same tent. Save on space. And, y’know…”

She raised an eyebrow.

“The friction.”

You blinked. “I’m going to end you.”

“Don’t dry hump too hard,” she added cheerfully, grabbing her duffel. “The zippers can’t handle that kind of tension. Trust me. I speak from deeply unfortunate experience.”

You spun on her, ready to either scream or cry or crawl into a garbage can.

“You what?! Jules, are you serious?Im going to faint, I need three packs of Marlboros and a gallon of tequila right fucking now.”

“It’ll be fine,” she shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Cue Erik walking up like he heard from God Himself.

“Peach,” he said, dragging the nickname out like a goddamn love song dipped in sarcasm. “Nice to see your eyeliner survived the car ride. Did you use paint thinner this time?”

“You’re one joke away from getting buried alive in a port-a-potty, Campbell.”

Still, you hugged him.. The worst part? He felt good. Warm. Familiar. Like the disaster you never quite outgrew.

This was the guy who made you fall in love with KISS when he showed you Detroit Rock City on DVD ages ago. He used to made fun of you every time you sobbed at the end like a widow.

“THEY MADE UP, ERIK. AT THE CONCERT. IT’S FUCKING BEAUTIFUL,” you’d wailed once, sobbing into his shirt.

He just laughed. “Get a grip, Jesus. You’re leaking.”

Now, standing here, shirtless and smug, he was the same annoying bastard. But hotter. More dangerous.

“By the way,” he added, casually, “don’t spray that crime-against-noses perfume inside the tent again. I swear I sneezed for five hours straight last year.”

You flipped him off. “I’ll just fart instead.”

He nearly tripped over the tent trying to chase you down.

And just like that, war was declared.

By 4 PM your Docs were murdering your feet, you were on your third vodka Red Bull, and Erik had already managed to:

• Flirt with both bartenders.

• Arm wrestle a guy in a fishnet bodysuit.

• Steal a joint from a group of hippies and pretend he “found it on the ground.”

And somehow still have enough energy to piss you off every 15 minutes.

You were mid-rant about your boots when Julia dropped a bomb from her festival chair like she was narrating a true crime documentary.

“So... tiny thing. Your ex is here.”

You stopped chewing your fry.

“WHAT?Don’t joke with things like that Jules!I almost choked.”

“Brad. Cargo shorts. Tank top. Emotional damage.”

You blinked. Hard. Calculating whether stabbing him with a corn dog stick was legally considered assault or performance art.

Erik plopped down beside you. “Why do you look like you’re planning a crime?”

“Her ex is here,” Julia replied, sipping a neon drink .

“Fucking Brad? Is he still pretending to care about climate change to get laid?”

“Worse,” Julia said. “He’s with that TikTok blonde. Looks like she filters her soul.”

You stood, rage bubbling. “Nope. I’m leaving. Give me the keys. I’ll walk to the next state.”

Julia grabbed your wrist. “No. Screw him. Let’s get drunk. Start a pit. Snap a few bones for fun!”

Then Erik stood too, voice low, smirk deadly.

“Or…”

You raised an eyebrow. “Or?”

He leaned in. “We pretend we’re together. You sit on my lap. We kiss. He combusts. I win. You win. Everyone else loses.”

“Why would you enjoy it?”

“I’ve been dying to shut you up with my mouth since sophomore year.”

Your brain said no. Your body? Already glitching.

Your knees? Compromised.

You glared. “That’s evil.”

He grinned, stepping closer. “And hot.”

You took a breath. “Fine. But if you do anything weird, I will kill you with a glow stick.”

He leaned into your ear, voice pure sin.

“Peach, I invented weird.”

Ten Minutes Later

You were in Erik’s lap.

His arms wrapped around your waist.

His hand? Under your skirt, just resting on your thigh. Just enough to drive you crazy without doing anything explicitly illegal.

“This is… disturbingly comfy,” you admitted.

“You’re welcome. I make a great emo couch.”

“You’re also warm. I might keep you.”

He tensed. Just barely. Then squeezed your hip.

“Careful, sweetheart. I might not let you go.”

Your heart betrayed you.

Then- here came Brad. Like a walking red flag and discount cologne.

He looked over.

You smiled.

Erik leaned in, lips brushing your neck.

“Smile for the cheaters,” he whispered.

You ground down just enough to make him hiss.

“You’re playing with fire, Peach.”

You looked back, eyes glowing with mischief.

“Then burn with me.”

Suddenly: “FOO FIGHTERS, BABY! LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO!” Julia screamed, sprinting toward the stage like her taxes depended on it.

Erik helped you down, and you laced your fingers through his.

Then, without thinking, you grabbed his hand and wrapped it around your waist as you walked.

“What’s this?” he murmured, smirking against your temple.

“Just wanted you to hold me,” you mumbled. Vodka was 80% of your blood. Truths were leaking.

Erik rubbed his jaw like it physically pained him. “Jesus, Peach. You’re drunk. And you’re killing me.”

You giggled. “I am drunk. But don’t die. I want to kiss you before you turn into a ghost.”

His grip on you tightened.

“Peach…”

You turned to him. “Yeah?”

He looked at you like he wanted to kiss you and start a fire at the same time.

“You better mean it. Because if I kiss you… it’s not fake anymore.”

You smiled.

Twenty minutes later, you were tipsy off vodka slushies and Erik’s smug hand on your waist.

The music was thunder. The crowd? Unhinged. You could feel the bass in your spine. Somewhere, someone was vomiting behind a speaker.

Romance was in the air.

You were pressed up against Erik, half-dancing, half-grinding, fully pretending you weren’t imagining what it would be like to climb him like a jungle gym and scream into his mouth.

“Peach,” he warned, voice in your ear, “if you keep looking at me like that, we are not making it to the end of this set.”

“Good,” you purred, letting your hand trail up under his shirt, just slightly. “Then let’s end it early.”

He visibly malfunctioned. You could practically hear the Windows XP shut-down sound in his brain.

“I hate you.”

“You wish.”

Then-

“BRING ME THE HORIZON’S STARTING, LET’S GO DIE IN A PIT!” Julia screamed, launching herself into the crowd like a goddamn Viking.

You whooped, grabbed Erik’s hand, and pulled him in after her.

Big mistake. Huge.

The Mosh Pit

It was a war zone. Sweat. Boots. Elbows. You got hit in the ribs twice, and you loved it. Someone screamed, someone lost a shoe, someone proposed to their girlfriend mid-breakdown. You lived for it.

Until someone shoved you. Hard.

Your boot caught in the mud. Your body lurched. And before you could hit the ground-

Arms. Around you. Tight. Warm. Familiar.

Erik.

He caught you mid-fall, pulling you flush against his chest like you weighed nothing. The look on his face?

Absolute panic + raging murder boner.

“ARE YOU OKAY? WHO THE FUCK SHOVED YOU?”

“I’m fine,” you gasped, but your knees said liar, and your ribs weren’t vibing either.

Erik scanned the pit like he was about to start swinging. “I will punch someone into the sun.”

“Chill, Campbell.”

“No,” he snapped, grabbing your face in both hands, eyes dark. “You do not get to die in my arms because some punk jackass couldn’t handle the circle pit. You’re mine, got it? If anyone’s going to bruise you, it’s gonna be me. Consensually.”

You blinked. Slowly.

“…That was the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Fuck it,” he muttered, lifting you bridal-style like it was nothing. “You’re done. We’re going back.”

“Erik, I can walk-”

“You limped. I saw it. Don’t argue. I’m turned on and concerned and that’s a terrible combo.”

By the time you got back to the tent, you were buzzed, bruised, and completely feral.

Erik laid you down gently like you were made of glass, then immediately turned into a one-man emergency team. He yanked his hoodie off, shoved it under your head, grabbed a half-used first aid kit from his bag, and muttered to himself like he was about to perform surgery.

“Where does it hurt?” he asked.

“My soul. Also my ribs.”

He huffed out a laugh and lifted your shirt,carefully. You watched his face go from playful to holy shit as he caught sight of the forming bruise.

His fingers brushed it softly.

His jaw clenched.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he murmured, not looking up. “I thought-fuck. I thought I was gonna lose you.”

“You’d miss me?” you teased, even though your heart was hammering like a war drum.

He finally met your gaze. And this time, there was no joke in his voice.

“Peach. I don’t think I’d recover.”

You swallowed.

The tension exploded like a firework at point blank.

One second you were staring at him.

The next?

Mouths. Colliding.

Tongues. Teeth. Desperation. Heat.

He kissed you like he was mad at you. Like he wanted to ruin you and hold you forever all at once.

You moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

He groaned against your lips. “You sure?”

You nodded, whispering: “Just don’t stop.”

That was all he needed.

He tugged your shirt off, eyes devouring every inch like you were a feast and he was starving.

“God, look at you,” he breathed. “All mine. Finally.”

“Less talking,” you panted. “More ruining me.”

He smirked.

“Brat.”

And then he did exactly that.

You were pinned to the floor of the tent, chest rising, breath ragged.

He hovered above you, hair falling into his eyes, skin flushed and glowing from the adrenaline of the pit and from you. His hands were everywhere. Up your thighs, along your waist, gripping, claiming.

“Say it,” he growled against your neck, voice low and wrecked. “Say you want this.”

You gasped, back arching into him as his mouth sucked just below your collarbone, hard enough to bruise.

“I want this.” You swallowed, voice shaking. “I want you.”

That did it.

He crushed his mouth to yours with the kind of heat that short-circuited your brain. Tongues tangled, teeth clashed. His hands slid under your shirt,greedy, like he couldn’t decide what to touch first. The feel of him pressed between your legs had you melting.

You rolled your hips up into him, and he growled.

“God, Peach…” His lips traced fire down your throat. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

“You first,” you breathed, dragging his shirt up and over his head. He helped, then dove right back in, hands skimming your sides like he was memorizing you by feel alone.

You were bare from the waist up in seconds, cool air hitting hot skin, and Erik froze. His eyes roamed every inch of you, jaw clenched like he was holding back a scream.

“You’re not real,” he muttered.

“Then keep touching me until I am.”

He did.

His mouth closed around your nipple and you cried out, fingers fisting in his hair, dragging him closer. His free hand slid between your thighs, over your underwear, pressing just enough to make your legs shake.

He kissed his way up your chest, lips swollen, voice wrecked. “You’re so fucking wet.”

You moaned, hips lifting.

He smirked. “All for me?”

“Only for you.”

And then,he moved his hand.

Slow. Firm. Torturous.

You bit your lip, trying to stay quiet, but he just chuckled darkly.

“Don’t hold back now, baby.” His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear. “I wanna hear how badly you need me.”

You whimpered, nails dragging down his back as he leaned in, voice dark and delicious in your ear.

“I’ve waited years for this, Peach. I’m not stopping until you forget your name.”

He kissed you again, slower this time. Deeper. The kind of kiss that made your body melt, made your legs fall open, made you want to cry.

Your bodies ground together in a rhythm that felt filthy and perfect, a desperate.

Clothes disappeared. Hands roamed. Skin on skin, breathless and begging.

“Please,” you whispered, voice breaking. “Erik, please-”

He pulled back, eyes black with want.

“Anything you want,” he said, voice hoarse. “I’m yours.”

“I’m never letting you into a mosh pit again,” he growled, dragging his fingers down your thigh where a scrape still stung.

“I’m never wearing a bra again.”

He blinked.“God bless.”

You smirked and pressed into his hand like the brat you were,already warm, already soaked from adrenaline and the way his voice rasped when he was pissed and turned on at the same time.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice full of danger. “All needy and whiny. My little brat.”

And then,zip.

Your eyes dropped.

Holy shit.

Pierced. Leaking. Ready to ruin you.

Your lips parted involuntarily.

“Someone’s excited to meet me,” you purred, with innocence while inching closer .

“Count your blessings, sweetheart.” He grinned darkly.

Before you could say anything back, he slid into you in one brutal, perfect thrust,no warning, no mercy. You bit down on a gasp, but he was already there, covering your mouth with his, swallowing every moan like it was his favorite song.

And it was. You could feel it. The way he moved. The way his hands gripped your waist like a lifeline. The way his tongue tangled with yours like it was personal.

“Fuck, Peach,” he groaned against your lips. “You feel like you were made for me.”

One hand found your breasts ,thumb brushing your nipple until your back arched like a string had snapped inside you.

“This tent is too damn small-” he grunted.

You barely got the words out: “Then let me ride you.”

That flipped a switch.

In one slick, filthy motion, he rolled and pulled you onto him, guiding your hips like he was building a symphony from chaos.

You settled over him, breath caught in your throat as his piercing brushed that sweet, unbearable spot deep inside you.

“Please guide me,” you whispered, already shaking.

His eyes were black with hunger as he took your hips in both hands and slammed you down, making you cry out.

“Always, baby. I got you.”

And he did. Every bounce. Every drag. Every time your thighs quivered and your moans turned breathless, he was right there, helping you fall apart and loving every second.

“You’re a fuckin’ angel, Peach,” he said through gritted teeth, voice rumbling against your ribs like thunder. “So pretty, so loud for me-keep goin’, I wanna feel you fall apart.”

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak.

You just moved.

Riding that high with his fingers digging in, his mouth back on your throat, his breath hot against your shoulder, whispering filth you didn’t have the brain cells left to process.

Until it hit.

That snap. That white-hot, stars-exploding, everything-blurring release.

You collapsed against him, shaking, babbling something like his name and a curse and maybe a love confession.

And Erik-sweaty, gorgeous, wrecked,wrapped his arms around you like you were made of glass and buried his face in your neck as he followed, cursing against your skin.

Silence.

Then:

“I think I saw God,” you mumbled.

Erik laughed,that deep, post-orgasmic wheeze of a man who knows he did that.

“If God’s in this tent, we’re both going to hell.”

You didn’t care.

You were in his lap. Still full of him. And the world could wait.

Because for once, you didn’t feel broken.

You just felt his.

You woke up to the smell of sweat, sex, and the faint scent of Julia’s anxiety coffee wafting in from outside the tent.

Your legs were jelly. Your throat was wrecked. Your body?

Fully used. Thoroughly destroyed. Proudly ruined.

You shifted slightly and winced.

“Fuck,” you muttered, flopping back onto the sleeping bag like your bones were made of mashed potatoes. “He actually broke me.”

A voice, dangerously smug, purred beside you:

“That’s what happens when you tell me to go crazy, sweetheart.”

You whipped your head toward Erik, who was lying on his side like a smug little slut .Bedhead. Hickey-covered chest. That damn piercing catching the light. Still naked.

And grinning like the devil just gave him a participation trophy .

“I should slap you.”

He reached over and trailed his fingers down your bare stomach. “You did. Repeatedly. Pretty sure you left claw marks on my back too.”

You flushed.

“…You deserved them.”

“You moaned my name like a prayer and then cried after the third—”

“ERIK.”

He smirked. “You started it, Peach.”

You groaned and shoved your face into the hoodie he’d thrown over you sometime during the night. It still smelled like him. Sin. Laundry soap. Regret. Lust. Possibly weed.

Then, the sound that could strike fear into your horny little heart:

“I KNOW YOU’RE AWAKE, SLUTS!”

Julia.

“IF THAT TENT SMELLS LIKE REGRET AND CUM, I’M BURNING IT.”

You choked on your own oxygen.

Erik grinned. “She’s so supportive.”

You shoved his face into a pillow.

Outside, Julia continued:

“I BOUGHT DONUTS AND THREE TYPES OF GATORADE. BUT NO ONE GETS ANY UNTIL I GET DETAILS. AND YES, I’M YELLING. BECAUSE YOU BUTT DIALED ME AGAIN AND I HEARD EVERYTHING.”

You buried yourself deeper in the hoodie. “I’m never showing my face again.”

Erik sat up and stretched,like a cat who just knocked everything off your emotional shelf.

“You sure you’re gonna be able to walk?”

You glared at him. “If I limp, I’m telling everyone you punched me.”

“You screamed my name loud enough, babe. No one’s gonna believe that.”

You threw a boot at his head.

You eventually emerged wearing his hoodie (because yours had mysteriously vanished), his hickeys, and the haunting realization that your knees were still shaking.

Julia handed you a donut and a coffee with a grin.

“You got railed so hard the rats left the campsite out of respect.”

Erik, unbothered and half-dressed, just sipped his Gatorade like a post-sex Olympic gold medalist.

Brad and TikTok Barbie walked past at the worst possible moment.

You locked eyes with your ex.

Erik stood, walked over, and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind like he had every right to. And he did.

“Morning, Brad,” he said cheerfully. “Peach couldn’t walk this morning. I take full responsibility.”

You blinked.

Barbie gasped.

Brad’s jaw clenched so hard it could’ve snapped.

Julia whispered, “Ten outta ten. Emmy-worthy.”

You turned, grabbed Erik by the shirt, and pulled him down for a kiss that was all tongue, bite, and I dare you to look away.

When you pulled back, Erik looked dazed.

“I’m keeping you,” he muttered.

“You better,” you whispered, voice low.

Brad stormed off.

Julia did a backflip emotionally.

And you? You leaned into Erik, bruised and aching and alive in a way you hadn’t felt in years.

“Same tent tonight?” he asked, voice in your ear, already smug again.

You grinned.

“Only if you promise to break me again.”

[hoonieyun]

locked in

part two to "locked up" read part one first! pairing: lee heeseung x reader "y/n" summary: you and heeseung have been texting everyday since you first met that night and although he tries to ask you out on a date everyday, you've turned him down and have decided to play hard to get. but after not hearing from him for a whole day, you begin to worry that he's no longer interested. warnings: mentions of jail and getting arrested, consensual skinship, kissing, overall 18+ not proofread lol genre: bad boy!heeseung kind of lol, strangers to lovers, down bad!heeseung x down bad!reader, romance, a bit of angst, fluff!

wc: 2867

you weren’t sure why you were playing hard to get with heeseung, i mean, he was cute and charming, and typically you probably would’ve taken the chance to jump his bones if he let you– and you know he would, but with heeseung, you wanted to play the long game. 

was it the fact that he was mysterious? you barely knew anything about him yet he was so alluring and you just seemed to find yourself constantly thinking about him. 

or maybe it was because he was kind? he did after all pay for ningning’s bail after they got locked up that eventful night. 

no matter the answer, heeseung was constantly on your mind. like he was locked up in your heart and your ribcage were the bars keeping him in. 

you and heeseung have been texting back and forth for the last few months and since that night, he’s asked you out everyday and to which you’d respond with a dismissive maybe or change the subject completely. of course you wanted to go out with him but you were having a bit too much fun playing the long game and making him work for it. 

after all, you were a prize to be won and it wasn’t going to be easy. 

heeseung on the other hand definitely knew what you were doing. he could tell you were making him work for it and he was willing to do whatever it was to get you to go out with him. he was on the same boat, ever since that night you had been on his mind and the more you played hard to get, the more he wanted you. playing hard to get was really working for you. 

heeseung texted you everyday and you truthfully looked forward to talking with him. every now and then you guys would call or facetime at night until the two of you would fall asleep. even if you guys would just go about your day with the other one the phone or he would text you briefly to just ask how you are doing and if you’ve eaten, you loved talking to him. 

however, today… he hadn’t texted you. it was 4pm and you were constantly checking your phone to see if his contact would pop up but nothhing. the last text he sent you was the day before during breakfast and nothing since then. not even a phone call, a little text asking how you were doing, or even an emoji or random photo. 

nothing. 

you had even texted him good morning and a photo of your lunch, instant ramen, because he had mentioned how much he loved it and there was still nothing. you were getting worried… had he grown tired of you? did he no longer find you desirable because you were playing hard to get? had he found another girl and you were simply just a pitstop for him? you weren’t sure but your mind was running to the worst case scenarios instead of simply thinking about how he’s probably just busy and preoccupied. 

it’s around 9pm at night when you receive a phone call from an unknown number and typically you wouldn’t answer numbers you didn’t know but something was telling you to pick up. and so you did. 

“this is the correctional facility, this phone call is being monitored and recorded for security purposes; if you would like to accept this phone call stay on the line…” and so you did just that. the phone rings for a few minutes and soon enough you can hear several voices and other sounds in the background before someone speaks up. 

“hello? yn?” the caller says and your brows furrow at his voice. 

“hee? why are you calling me from a correctional facility?” you ask, utterly confused and equally relieved that he wasn’t ignoring you on purpose… he was just locked up… again. 

“yeah.. haha about that. i may or may not have gotten arrested again. do you mind coming to get me?” he asks and his voice sounded so soft and gentle in contrast to the situation he was in and it made your heart melt. you felt so bad for him even if you hadn’t known what he was in there for. 

“of course, i’ll be right there. hang tight ok?” 

“thank you, love.” he says and the line ends. 

your mind was running wild with questions but the only thing you were focusing on was the address of the correctional facility so you could pick up heeseung and get the answers you were looking for. 

𐐪♡𐑂

you’re sitting on the trunk of your car as you wait for heeseung to be let out. the parking lot was very empty, like this correctional facility wasn’t an active location, but the light inside the building said otherwise. 

your heart was beating out of your chest as you waited for heeseung and quite frankly, you didn’t know why. its almost 10pm when you arrive and it seems like forever as you wait because it’s not almost midnight and heeseung has yet to be let out. you had attempted to walk inside and ask for an update about heeseung but the guard at the front didn’t even let you walk through the entrance, turning you away before you could even utter a word. 

after waiting for another half hour without heeseung emerging, you decide that you would just wait in the car; so you hop off the trunk and make your way to the driver’s seat when a voice causes you to whip around. 

“leaving without me?” heeseung says, a smirk on his lips as he saunters over to you. hands in his pockets and the same mysterious allure from the first night you two met. “heeseung!” you say while running over to him and you don’t know what comes over you as you jump into his arms, your own arms wrapping around his neck as he lifts you into the air with an embrace. 

“hi, love. i’m so happy to see you.” he whispers into your ear as he lets you back down onto the ground. “i was so worried..” you mutter as the two of you lock eyes and you can see the sincerity in heeseung’s eyes as he hears your words. “i’m sorry, love. i didn’t mean to make you worried..” he says, softly cupping your face and brushing some hair out of your face. you pout at his words and his expression, clear that he was exhausted and although you didn’t want to pry about why he was here in the first place– you couldn’t help but wonder why especially when you were the one to come and get him. 

“we should head home, yeah?” you ask, taking his hand into yours as the two of you guys walk to your car and you could tell that heeseung was tired from the heaviness in his footsteps as they dragged across the concrete. 

heeseung lazily steps into the passenger seat of your car as you do the same into the driver’s seat. the air in the car isn’t awkward but the silence added to the atmosphere, like it was a situation that is supposed to be filled with tension but the silence was comfortable. 

the drive back to your apartment wasn’t long but you drove extra carefully because at some point heeseung had fallen asleep in the passenger seat and was silently snoring next to you. every now and then he would mumble something in his sleep. 

you could barely make out what he was saying until a very coherent sentence leaves his mouth just as you’re pulling into your parking lot. “too pretty for me.. too good for me.. i love her ok?” heeseung mutters and your eyes widen at his words. 

love? he loved you? you weren’t even sure that you were the one he was talking about but that was until your name slips from his lips. “yn.. so sweet to me..” he whispers while stirring in the seat and your cheeks burn a shade of red. you weren’t sure that you were ready to drop the L word just yet but you knew that heeseung made you feel warm on the inside. like the warmth you felt when you hugged him earlier. 

like the warmth you felt the first night you met him. 

and the warmth you felt whenever you’d see his name pop up on your phone. 

𐐪♡𐑂

heeseung crashes onto your couch and before you could even take a few steps; heeseung’s arms wrap around your waist and pull you onto the couch in his embrace. “so warm..” heeseung whispers into your ear as he cuddles up to your body in his arms, unconsciously placing a soft kiss on your head before dozing back to sleep. 

you were a bit shocked at the sudden action but you weren’t necessarily opposed to it. his strong and toned arms around your body provided comfort and a sense of safety that you didn’t know you were looking for. 

warm.. just like he mentioned and just as you thought. to you heeseung was warmth and for him, so were you. 

𐐪♡𐑂

the next morning is something different from your usual routine. when you wake up, the warmth of heeseung’s embrace is no longer enveloping your body. you look around to look for him only to find his spot on the couch gone. you were a bit saddened to see that he had left without as much as a message or text but are instantly relieved when your him in the kitchen. 

“you’re awake? hi, love.” heeseung says, a pot in his hand and chopsticks in the other as he stirred the contents of the pot. “i made us some ramyeon! come on, let’s eat it while it’s still hot.” your eyes light up at his words and you smile at his eagerness to eat his favorite food, the warm feeling returning to your body as you think about how happy heeseung seemed to share his favorite food with you. 

the two of you silently eat the food heeseung prepared and although it was just ramyeon, it was delicious. he explained in great detail how he likes to cook and prepare his ramyeon and you could tell how much he loved it. 

“so… about last night..” heeseung starts and you look up at him from your bowl. 

“i’m sorry that i called you so late.. i didn’t know who else to call and i figured if i called one of my friends they’d just dog on me for getting arrested again.. plus i don’t even know why i called you either because i was scared that it was going to leave a bad impression. i mean come on, i haven’t even taken you out on a date yet and i’m already asking you for favors like picking me up from jail.. 

thank you by the way. for picking me up.. you really didn’t have to–” at this point heeseung was rambling and you could tell he was getting a bit anxious so you gently place your hand over his  and you could see his shoulders drop as the lets out a sigh. 

“it’s ok, hee.. i was happy you called me– obviously not the best circumstance but i was happy to hear from you. 

honestly i was a bit nervous that you didn’t like me anymore or that you got tired of me because i was playing hard to get and hadn’t heard from you all day. but then you called me and i felt better again, although i wished it wasn’t from a jail phone.” the two of you laugh at your response and heeseung nods with the same dashing smile you’ve grown to love about him. 

“are you kidding? i could never get tired of you.. this cat and mouse game we play is cute and i think you’re cute.. you could reject me today and i would still ask you tomorrow.” heeseung says and your cheeks once again are flushed with a warmth; a shade of red creeping onto your skin. 

“so do it.. ask me.” you say, looking at heeseung and he just blinks at you a few times before thinking about what to do next. heeseung suddenly grabs the wrapper from your pair of chopsticks and folds it meticulously into the shape of a circle. 

he rounds the table and gets on one knee in front of you, presenting you the paper ring. 

“yn.. will you do me the honor of going out on a date with me?” he says as if he was proposing to you and as fun as it may be to reject him right now, you were done playing your game. 

“i would love to.” you respond and heeseung’s eyes light up at your words, eagerly slipping the paper ring onto your finger. “one day, it’ll be the ring of your dreams.” he whispers, looking up at you afterwards when you suddenly grab hold of his face and bring him in for a kiss, one that he returns with just as much passion and haste as his arms once again find its way around your waist. 

“i’ve been waiting for that for a while now..” you confess, causing the two of you to laugh. 

“you would’ve gotten it a lot sooner if you hadn’t rejected me so many times..” heeseung says playfully and you roll your eyes. 

“true– but hey i’m not the one who confessed that he loved me last night..” you say teasingly as you get up and using his shocked reaction as a way to slip out of his grasp so you could put the dishes in your sink. 

“w- what? come again?” he asks, bewildered at your remark. 

“last night.. you said you loved me.. while you were sleeping.. in my car..” you say, taking a step closer with each word until you were right in front of him, looking up at heeseung’s big doe eyes as he takes in your figure. 

“don’t tell me you didn’t mean it?” you tease further, a pout on your lips. 

“of course, i meant it.. i just didn’t think i was a sleep talker..” he explains and you smile at his cute response. “it’s okay, i think it was cute plus i perhaps may or may not maybe… love you too?” a confession of your own, causing heeseung’s already wide and bright eyes to widen further. 

“really?” he asks and you nod, placing a kiss on his cheek. 

“dropping the L bomb before we even go on our first date… hmm” he says and you can’t help but laugh. 

“i mean, you practically proposed to me just now so we’re basically married.. and this can be our first date!” you explain, pointing to the pot of ramen still on the table. 

“this is lame though!” heeseung exclaims, arms loosely wrapping around your shoulder. 

“then i guess the night at the club was our first day!” you tempt and he instantly starts shaking his head, “definitely not that..” heeseung says. 

“we’ll have a proper first date, ok? i’ll plan everything, think of it as not only our first date but my way of making it up to you for having you come down to the precinct twice..

the date will be perfect just as long as you’re there.” 

you couldn’t help but melt into his touch as you listened to him speak. you obviously didn’t mean it when you said those two instances were your first date but seeing heeseung’s continuing eagerness to take you out on a date and have it be perfect meant so much to you even if it was something simple. you could tell that he was going to be someone in your life that would provide comfort, safety, warmth, balance, and happiness. even if its just from the few interactions, texts and phone calls the two of you have had. 

“speaking of.. why were you arrested last night?” you say, peering away from his chest after going into an embrace. 

“haha.. yeah so about that.. let’s leave that story for another time hmm?” heeseung says and once again the room fills with the sound of both of your laughs. 

“i’m sure it’ll be a great story for our kids one day.” you say without even thinking and although you were a bit surprised it came out of your mouth, heeseung agrees as the two of you continue to stand in your dining room. your body melting into his as both of your arms wrap around each other. warmth emitting from your bodies as he softly rubs your back. 

this was only the beginning of your relationship with heeseung and with the most untraditional start to your relationship, you knew that he was the one for you. 

in a lot of ways, him getting arrested was almost like a representation of your relationship. heeseung being locked behind bars at some point was only a symbol of the way you held heeseung in your heart and your ribcage being the bars that kept him there. 

he was locked in and so were you. 

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

special notes: @ikeuverse i know you've been waiting for this and i wanted to wait until your birthday to release >_< happy birthday love! i hope you have a great one <3

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @leipforggy

[silenceofserenity]

Haikyuu Boys as your Boyfriend.

PART 1 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

↳ Includes: Kuroo, Kenma, Akaashi, Bokuto, Tsukishima & Terushima

Part 2, Part 3

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Kuroo Tetsurou

Dating Kuroo means pillows don't exist anymore - he loves resting his head on your thighs instead.

He loves challenging you with trivia competitions but he picks out questions only he knows, so he can brag to you about how smart he is.

I doubt this man knows how to cook and is probably the type to say, "but baby, the way you make it is just so much better!"

On that note, he's a food stealer. If you go and make yourself something to eat, just know he's taking portions when you're not looking.

He'll randomly text you science facts as a way to start the conversation, "hey, did you know that there are more trees on Earth than stars in the galaxy? anyways, I miss you."

His lockscreen is the ugliest photo of you just to annoy you, but he has a hidden photo album with all of your pretty photos named 'my girl/my boy/my partner'.

Wears your hair ties on his wrist 100%.

He's incredibly proud of his body and will take any chance to flex his biceps in front of you.

He'll text you, "please don't be mad" and then follow it up with a photo of his cat next to a broken plate because he swears you can't get mad at a cat.

Grabs your chin when you're distracted just to kiss you and whisper, "focus" in the most smug tone.

Tries so hard to be nonchalant but there is not a single nonchalant bone in his body.

Kozume Kenma

When he's gaming, he will let you lie on his lap and will instinctively play with your hair.

He lets you paint his nails when you're bored, acting like he doesn't care but he actually think its adorable.

Most of your dates consist being at his house or in a quieter setting like a little cafe.

After training, he'll come to you and rant about his teammates, "Yamamoto spiked it so hard he hit Kuroo in the face and no one laughed. I was the only one that laughed. Also, I tripped on a ball and Kuroo said it was karma, can you believe that?"

Loves cuddling with you - whenever you're over he becomes extremely clingy.

If he's gaming and you fall asleep beside him, he'll lower the volume, slide a blanket over you and keep glancing at you in admiration.

He's not the jealous type, but if he sees someone flirting with you he will make fun of them after they leave, "did he really just offer you (food you hate)? Idiot. I know you hate that."

Mario Kart competitions - that's all.

He has really specific spotify playlists for every scenario and has an extremely long one that's like 52 hours of songs you like for when you come over.

He hates PDA but when he gets overstimulated in public, he likes to hold pinkies or something small like that just to get your attention.

Expect random texts from him at any given time - like one at 2am in the morning asking to hop on minecraft.

Akaashi Keiji

I already know this man know how to cook a good meal so you better be ready for the best dish ever.

He's extremely observant and loves watching you speak, so he notices everything - a new habit, a subtle frown or even a slight change in tone of voice.

He loves reading in his spare time, and once he read one of your favourite books, annotated it, and gave it back to you with neat sticky notes saying, 'this part reminds me of you.'

On his phone, all of his notifications are off, except for you (and bokuto) but your name is starred and pinned at the top, always.

When he's annoyed or frustrated, he'll text you saying, 'can I call you? I need to hear your voice.'

After a rough day, he will show up at your house with your favourite snacks, a blanket, and your favourite movies to watch together.

He's the most grounding person, and always knows exactly what to say without sugarcoating it, 'you're capable. You're smart. And you don't need to prove it to anyone to be valid.'

Big believer in forehead kisses!

He lets you read over his shoulder, even if he's deep into schoolwork. If your head rests against his, he doesn't flinch. Just smiles a little.

He's memorised your schedule so he knows when to text you 'good luck' when you have that one evil teacher.

When you're crying, he doesn't panic. He just pulls you into him, rubs your back and mutters, "it's okay, my love. I've got you."

He loves listening to you rant while his fingers just softly trace all over your skin, humming at certain things you say to let you know he's still listening.

Bokuto Kotaro

Bro is literally your biggest fan. You could sneeze and this man would be looking at you in awe.

He absolutely adores it when you wear his jerseys to his games, he'd shout, "LOOK THAT'S MY BABY!!" in public. Especially in public.

Clings to you post-practice - arms wrapped around your waist, forehead resting on your shoulder as he whines about being sore and hungry.

Has NO poker face. If he's happy, you'll know. If he's sad, you'll know. He's also so dramatic when he's upset, "so this is how I die. Heart shattered, and all alone."

He will talk about you to anyone that will listen. Poor Akaashi is actually a victim of this.

This one time when he was in one of his sad moods, you were sitting with him in silence, and letting him rant when he suddenly looked up at you and said, "thank you for being patient with me."

He sends voice messages instead of texts because he claims texts don't show enough emotion but he always gets distracted when sending them and talks through 5 topics before getting to the point.

Random bear hugs. All the time. He loves hugging you, he says you're his safe space.

Probably sleep talks - like you'll wake up to him murmuring, "that's my baby, don't touch them or i'll fight you." He also wouldn't remember it in the morning.

He needs reassurance, but sometimes it's for the most random things. This one time he asked you if you still thought he was cool...

He's definitely got the most chaotic and weird food combinations that he tries to make you eat, "It might look gross but it's made with love, so just try it!"

Tsukishima Kei

Acts like he's not paying attention when you're ranting, but actually remembers every single detail.

If anyone ever says anything to you, he'll defend you but then deny it right after with that stupid smirk on his face, "no, that wasn't defending. I just hate stupid people."

When you're overwhelmed, he won't pressure you to talk - he'll just sit beside you and let you tell him when you're ready.

He definitely follows those dinosaur pages so he can get all the new updates on 'how dinosaurs really looked back in the day.'

Gossiping sessions with him go so hard because he has no filter and will literally say it as it is, "did she actually say that? Jesus, I'm surprised her boyfriend hasn't broken up with her yet."

He let you wear his glasses once, and he made it your contact picture. He claims it's because 'you look stupid' but we all know he loves it.

Pretends he hates PDA but he secretly likes it. You held his arm while walking together once and he called you clingy, yet didn't do anything to stop it.

He's weirdly competitive about game nights and if you beat him in Uno or Mario Kart, he'll go quiet for a bit before saying, "one more. That didn't count."

The only person he will help study is you. Hinata asked him once, and he said no straight up, but as soon as you asked he told you to meet him after school (Hinata has never lived this down).

He always makes height jokes and if you say something he thinks is stupid, he'll look down and say, "what was that? I can't hear you from down there."

He sends you random memes and just adds a comment like, "this is you."

Terushima Yuji

He's the type to compliment you in the middle of an argument to throw you off, "you're so hot when you're mad, you know that?"

Loves post-practice cuddles where he'll literally wrestle you into a hug and then just collapse with his head on top of your stomach.

He always talks through movies like he actually cannot stop talking. "wait, babe was that guy the killer? I though-" "shut up." "Okay, my bad."

His love language is physical touch and always needs to be in some form of contact with you - arm around your waist while walking, head in your lap when watching a movie, legs thrown over you when cuddling.

He's an incredibly unhinged texter and sends the most random messages: "opinions on matching tattoos?" "If you were a zombie, I'd let you eat me." "Look at this dog I saw today, we should get one. Or maybe a baby?"

Carries snacks for you and pretends it's not on purpose. He'll whip out one and be like, "oh you're hungry? Lucky I packed an extra bar. Total coincidence, I know."

If you attend his training, he will get totally distracted by you. You'll be in the stand watching as he turns to look at you, winking just in time for the ball to smack him right in the face.

Honestly, he's quite a messy person, and probably has clothes all over the floor in his room but he uses it as an excuse for you to wear them. "I left them out on purpose for you obviously!"

Gets pouty if you don't kiss him before he leaves, "oh okay... guess i'll just die then."

[kittyykattxoxo]

owns the night

pairing : damian priest x reader

summary : you were only supposed to go out with your friends for a few drinks to celebrate one of them getting engaged, but that quickly turns into a wild night at the club. this leaves your boyfriend, damian, less than pleased and he has to remind you exactly who's in charge.

word count : 2475

content warning : dom! damian, sub! reader, p in v, spanking, overstimulation, oral, fingering, creampie

the loud bass music pulsed through your chest, vibrating through your bones as you leaned back against the bar, downing the remnants of your fourth - no wait, fifth? - drink and let the familiar burn of alcohol hit your throat. your eyes were hazy, the mixture of tequila and whiskey coursing through your veins making everything feel just slightly distant and oh so wonderfully carefree.

your hair was a mess of tousled waves, falling over your shoulders, slightly damp from sweat. your skin was radiating heat from a mixture of the alcohol and all the dancing you’d been doing, the warmth causing your cheeks to flush with a rosy hue. the tiny black mini dress you’d chosen to wear was clinging to your curves, the plunging neckline barely holding your breast in place. with every twist of your hips, the dress momentarily rises a little bit higher, teasingly showing glimpses of skin on your inner thighs. you knew how good you looked and you’d never been shy about showing it off.

the night had started off innocently enough - dinner and cocktails, celebrating your friend ruby’s engagement. somewhere along the way, however, things had devolved into shots and reckless laughter as you all let loose. honestly, if this were just celebrating her engagement, you worried about how wild the bachelorette party was going to be. a part of you felt bad - you’d assured your boyfriend that it wasn’t going to be bad, that you’d just have a drink or two and then make your way home. that idea had been quickly abandoned and was now little more than an afterthought in the back of your mind as you focused on enjoying yourself.

you’d been prepared to go back out to the dance floor when the sound of your phone buzzing against the bar surface drew your attention. it wasn’t the first time that it had rang over the course of the night, but it was the first time you actually acknowledged it, squinting at the screen through your tipsy haze.

Papi

a slow, drunken grin slid across your lips as you picked it up and slid to answer it, completely ignoring all of the warning bells that should have been going off in your head. 

“heyyyyyyy papi” you slurred, dragging the words out like honey. “miss me?”

on the other end, you heard damian draw out a long, slow breath. his voice was low and raspy with barely restrained irritation. 

“where are you, hermosa?” you rolled your eyes with a playful defiance, despite the fact that he couldn’t see you. tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder, you began to toy with the rim of your now empty glass. 

“i’m out with the girls, silly!” you slurred. ”don’t you rememberrr? ruby’s engaged! we’re celebrating and having fun, don’t be such a party pooper!” 

over the phone, you heard clearly as he sharply exhaled through his nose - a telltale sign that you were definitely testing his patience. 

“go. home. now.” damian’s voice was dark, each word coming out as more of a warning than anything else.

unfortunately, the alcohol was lowering your inhibitions a little too much and so you merely giggled in reply. “oh, come on papi. i’m just having a little bit of funnnn!” 

before damian could reply, you felt a hand on your wrist and looked up to see your best friend ruby, who was just as drunk as you were. “cmon babeee! let’s dance!” 

her words were slurred and if it weren’t for her pointing over to where the rest of your friends were on the dance floor, you may not have gotten the gist of it. without a second thought you ended the call, letting ruby drag you toward the dance floor and letting your phone fall into your little clutch, all but forgotten. 

so you didn’t notice when damian tried to call you again. or when he texted you several times. and of course you completely forgot that the two of you had shared locations with each other in the early stages of your relationship.

somewhere in the haze of the alcohol and music, your party had made their way up onto the center stage of the club and you moved your body to the music, every so often remembering to pull your tiny black dress down before you gave everyone too much of a show. you were having so much fun, dancing into the night, but that all was interrupted when a large, rough hand wrapped around your wrist and practically yanked you off the stage.

a soft yelp escaped from your lips and your first reaction was to protest in anger, but then you looked up and suddenly your stomach was doing flips. 

because there he was. damian priest.

all six-foot-five of him, his massive frame towering over you. he was dressed in a fitted black shirt that clung to his muscular chest and a pair of dark jeans that hugged powerful thighs, making him near impossible to miss. but the thing you picked up on most was how his dark eyes were molten with barely contained fury, his jaw clenched tightly enough that you swore you could see the muscles tick. 

“papi,” you finally managed to breath out, your lips parted slightly as you looked up at him with surprise and misplaced excitement, the alcohol having you fail to realize just how much trouble you were in.

your friends looked on with a little bit of concern, but in reality they were all too drunk to really protest either as damian scooped you up into his arms with ease and waved them off as he began walking you two out of the club, his long strides swift and purposeful. he was seething, his entire body radiating a possessive dominance, but he was still careful with you.

the cool night air had you almost whining, but he didn’t give you a reaction as you both approached his car. he easily held you with one hand as he used the other to open the door, depositing you in the front seat. you blinked up at him and now that you could see his face again, you finally began sensing the depth of his frustration.

the ride back to your shared apartment was tense and silent. every now and then you would glance over at him through the corner of your eye. his hands gripped the steering wheel hard enough that his knuckles had turned white and his jaw was still tight. his dark eyes were focused on the road, but you could see the storm that was brewing behind them.

instinctively, your thighs squeezed together and a pulsing ache built low in your belly. a part of you, despite your inebriation, knew what was coming when you got home. when you finally reached your apartment, he parked with a sharp jerk and immediately rounded the car. you’d tried to get out on your own, but almost immediately were unsteady on your feet and he reached out to grab your wrist. his grip was firm and possessive but not painful as he led the two of you inside.

almost immediately as the door shut behind the two of you, he had you pressed up against the wall. your breath hitched sharply as your back collided with the cool surface. damian towered over you, his hands braced on either side of your head, caging you in. his face was close, his forehead resting against your own. 

“you,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, “having been testing my patience tonight, mi reina.”

your stomach clenched at the raw dominance in his tone, but you were still buzzed and feeling reckless. 

“hmm…and what are you going to do about it, papi?” you teased, your words slurred and your tone sickeningly sweet, knowing you were going to continue testing his patience. his eyes darkened, but a wicked glint flashed in them to let you know that he would continue playing this game.

“careful, princesa,” he warned. “you may not like that answer.”

but did you heed his warning? of course not. instead, you brought your hands up to rest on his broad chest, your painted nails lightly dragging over the fabric of his shirt.

“maybe i like trouble, papi.”

his nostrils flared slightly and without another word, one of his hands moved to grab your jaw, forcing you to hold his gaze. you could see everything in his look - the anger, the possessiveness, the lust for you, but on the flip side you knew that he could see everything in your eyes too. could see how badly they betrayed how much you wanted him.

“you think this is a game, princesa?” he rasped, his voice low and dangerous. “i’m about to remind you who you belong to.”

before you could get out another word, he seized your hips and lifted you with ease. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck as he carried you toward your bedroom. as he moved, his lips trailed along your throat, teeth grazing your skin possessively. 

by the time your back hit the mattress, your dress had already bunched up around your hips. damian’s large hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide as his dark gaze moved up to your face at the new revelation.

“no panties?” he murmured, his voice dripping with a dark amusement. “que traviesa…”

you smirked, but it melted into a sharp gasp when he suddenly knelt between your thighs, dragging his tongue along your already slick folds in one deliberate stroke. your back arched violently, your fingers already fisting the sheets below you.

“papi!” you gasped breathlessly, thighs trembling, but he didn’t stop. instead, he growled  against her, gripping your thighs with an almost bruising force to keep them spread open as his tongue circled your clit relentlessly. 

“you wanna be a brat, princesa?” he rasped darkly between strokes of his tongue. “fine, lets see how much you can take.”

his tongue flattered, dragging over your sensitive bundle of nerves with a slow, devastating precision. he alternated between soft flicks and firm, languid strokes, keeping you on the edge but never quite letting you fall over. 

it was a cruel punishment, but perhaps one you deserved after disobeying him. still, after a several moments of being tortured, your thighs began to tremble, the pleasure building far too quickly. 

“papi, please” you whimpered pathetically, craving the release that he refused to let you have.

but he wasn’t done, not yet.

you were so lost in the pleasurable sensations of his tongue that you didn’t notice when his grip left one of your thighs until suddenly you felt two thick fingers inside of you. damian knew exactly what he was doing, his fingers curling just right to drag against your sweet spot, his tongue never slowing either as it circled and flicked mercilessly against your clit.

the sudden dual stimulation was enough to send you over the edge, your back arching and fingers clawing at the sheets as an orgasm ripped from you with a strangled cry. 

but damian didn’t stop.

his tongue and fingers remained relentlessly, thrusting and swirling as he overstimulated your sensitive core. your body joled with the intensitive, your thighs trembling as your swollen clit throbbed against his tongue.

“p-papi! too much!” you practically sobbed, your voice cracking. 

but damian only growled against you in response, holding you down with one of his large hands with ease.

“too much?” he taunted, his voice filled with a wicked delight. “you can take more, princesa.”

and you did. it didn’t take long, but he dragged you through another orgasm with his mouth, groaning as you came undone beneath him. your legs trembled uncontrollably, your entire body quivering and oversensitive, but damian didn’t stop until you were nothing but a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him.

when he finally pulled away, his lips were glistening with your arousal and he licked them slowly, watching you with a sort of dark and primal satisfaction.

“look at you,” he murmured as his eyes raked over your trembling form. “so fucking wrecked for me.”

you couldn’t even get a reply out if you wanted to, still completely overstimulated from his mouth. damian still wasn’t done, however. in his mind, you still hadn’t fully learned your lesson - and he wasn’t going to stop until it was drilled into your head. 

his hands reached out to grab your hips, flipping you onto your stomach with ease and pulling your hips up as a near breathless gasp escaped your lips. you felt as his large hand ran over the curve of your exposed ass, suddenly smacking it hard enough to make you cry out. he repeated the action several more times until the burning sensation had you certain that both cheeks were bright red. 

“you’re mine, princesa” he growled roughly against your ear.

your fingers suddenly found themselves clawing at the sheets as he thrust into you, burying his thick length to the hilt inside of you with one punishing stroke. you hadn’t even realized when he’d had the time to take his cock out, but you certainly weren’t in the position to complain. 

his large body engulfed you, his grip on your hips once again bruisingly tight as he started his thrust at a punishing pace, your body still having not recovered from the orgasms he’d forced out before. 

“mine,” he growled into your neck, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin as he pulled you back, forcing you to take every inch of him. he was going to make sure that there was never a doubt in your mind who you belonged to, whose commands you were supposed to follow. 

every thrust, every slap of his hips against yours, sent you closer and closer to the edge, but what really sent you crashing over was when one his fingers found their way between your legs and began to circle at your clit. that was enough to send you spiraling, your third orgasm of the night ripped from your body. 

the sensation proved to be enough for damian too, as with one final thrust you felt him unleash inside of you, his face buried in your neck to cover the guttural groan that escaped from him. for several moments afterwards he remained inside of you, the two of you trying desperately to catch your breath. 

when he finally let you go, you practically collapsed into the bed, completely exhausted. you heard him chuckle and felt as he leaned over you, pressing a soft kiss against your temple before settling in next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you close. 

“never forget who you belong to, princesa.” he murmured darkly.

your response was breathless, practically a soft, broken whisper.

“only you, papi.” 

[hotchner-edu]

Runner's Stamina (drabble) | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: You can't help but fawn over your boyfriend, and he happens to overhear a phone call you have with Penelope

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader

Warnings: allusions to smut (no actual smut though), implied age gap, r is down bad (so is aaron), this is just me thirsting over aaron—

You were staring rather intensely at Aaron as he peacefully read beside you. Biting your bottom lip a little, your eyes zone in on his hand as it slowly moves to turn the page, veins popping in the subtlest way with each movement.

"Yes, honey?" He suddenly drawls out, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he keeps his eyes on the text.

Blinking slowly, you pout a bit and shake your head. "Nothing... is the book interesting?"

"It's just as I remembered it to be, started a bit slow, but it's getting interesting now." He answers and finally turns to look at you, eyes gentle.

Aaron gently takes your hand and drops a sweet kiss to your palm, keeping his eyes locked on yours the entire time. Your hand twitches a little as you feel how his hand practically engulfs yours, the warmth of his affection crawling up your arm and blooming across your body.

You nearly short circuit, your face a mask of awe as you stare at your boyfriend in utter adoration. A few moments pass and you immediately jump to escape from his loving torture, butterflies gathering in your chest.

"I'll leave you to it then. I, uh, just remembered that I owe Penelope a phone call." You whisper and bashfully smile.

Before you're able to stand up from the couch, Aaron's warm hand drops down onto your thigh, squeezing it firmly as he hums softly. "Alright, sweetheart. I'll head up in a little bit.”

Growing positively dizzy from the feeling of his rough hand against your skin, you nearly tip over on your feet as you hurry up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. Jack was over at Jessica's house for the weekend, so you weren't able to scurry to him for help in distracting yourself.

You practically leap onto the bed, hurriedly grabbing your phone and immediately finding Penelope's contact.

Laying on your stomach, you don't have to wait long as she picks up on the third ring.

"Hello my beautiful angel, how can I be of service to you today?" Penelope muses out playfully, the giddy lilt of her tone telling you that she was positively beaming on the other side of the call.

"Pen, my love." You sigh dramatically, "Help me."

"Not that I don't love you, honey, but isn't Hotch home today too? I thought you'd be jumping his bones by now." She says with a dulcet tone that feels almost jarring when paired with her teasing remark.

"That's exactly the problem, Pen. It's like he wants me to jump his bones again. I mean, his arms look more perfect than usual and he definitely knows it." You hiss out.

Penelope lets out an amused chuckle. "Careful honey, you're sounding like a cat in heat."

"It's hard not to be when he's my man." You sigh in a love-struck manner, imagining the way his hands felt on your waist, his strong grip massaging you gently as they slip under your shirt.

"Is Jack with Jessica today?" Penelope asks. "If not, I can take him for a few hours while you both spend some quality time together."

You smile widely and shake your head even though she isn't able to see you. "Thank you for the offer, Pen, but he's with Jess for the weekend."

"Then go get your man, girl! You have the entire weekend alone, what's stopping you?" She practically squeals out, speaking as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I know, I know! But I mean... we did it for a few hours this morning already. I worry that I'm going to overwhelm him." You say half-jokingly. While you did occasionally dwell on the fact that he was getting older, you weren't upset or too affected by the prospect of his age affecting his stamina.

"He runs for fun, it'll be fine. Besides, he can still... right?" Penelope trails off, seemingly maintaining a bit of self-restraint since Aaron was still her boss after all.

You blush and squeak out in shock. "Oh my gosh. Yes, he can still get it up, Pen!" Looking over your shoulder, you cringe a bit as you realize the bedroom door was cracked open a bit. Hopefully you weren't being too loud.

"Then I see no problem, honey. What's he up to anyway?" She asks lightly. You hear some shuffling in the background and the sound of porcelain plates being stacked.

"Reading." You say softly, picking at the plush duvet under you. "I'm making him reread Crime and Punishment."

"Honey, go save him." Penelope sighs out, barely able to suppress her giggles.

"From the book?" Your voice is coated in amusement.

"Yes, and possibly dying of boredom! I'll call you later tonight, okay? Oh! The girls also wanted to go shopping sometime next week too!" Penelope says happily, her mischievous tone clearly conveying that she would want an update later.

"Okay, okay, I'll leave you be now. But you three are getting nothing out of me next week." You warn playfully.

"We'll see about that." Penelope giggles and gives you a dramatic kiss through the phone. "Talk soon, honey."

The moment you put down your phone, you hear the bedroom door being pushed open. From the look on Aaron's face, you knew that he had overheard at least some parts of your conversation with Penelope.

"Good talk, sweetheart?" He asks lowly, lips tugged into a small smirk as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"Oh... yeah... done with reading?" You ask and smile a bit shyly, watching as he runs his hand along your leg.

Aaron hums softly and nods, his eyes darkening as he looks at you laying there. "Just remembered that I could be doing something a bit more exciting. Now what was it you were saying about my stamina?" He grins teasingly, his large hand sliding up to squeeze the flesh of your ass.

"You heard that?" You squeak out.

"Oh sweetheart, I heard much more than that." He chuckles deeply and gently flips you onto your back.

He crawls to hover over you, head dipping down to drop heated kisses along your neck and jaw. "Don't hold yourself back on my account, I love taking care of you." He mumbles against your skin, pulling back momentarily to look down at you with eyes full of love.

"It's not fair. You look too good all the time." You whisper almost petulantly, a playful glimmer shining in your eyes.

Aaron leans down to give you a firm kiss as he whispers against your lips. "So beautiful... you don't even know how much I want you all the time. How hard it is for me when I'm away on a case..."

He smirks a bit wider and his hand lifts one of your legs up by the back of your knee. "Now, I hope you don't plan on getting out of this bed until Monday, baby."