#god i wish things could have gone differently

[mengyan]

i had been made into an archer, the shadows suiting me best; you were a sun-bright girl forced into immortality, eternal servitude to chosen sacrifice for the people.

i think the first thing you taught me was absurdity. no one that knew me ever dared— through these years i’d become as much of a man as the rest, and it was rare for someone to think of wanting me. not that you did— did you? did you want me, wen xiao, or did you not think so much and just trusted that i would catch you?

sleep was always restless when it came. the heartbreak in a-heng’s new-blue eyes always marked the end of my dreams, because i was too afraid back then to turn around and see the rest of him. one month was enough to grow sick of my chambers, and i retired only when i could no longer keep my eyes open.

but then: a forest, a sea. fog cleared and the ink of you kissed my palm, calling me awake.

xiao, for daybreak, but if i allowed my tongue to loosen just the slightest— xiao, for you.

was it then that i became unable to see much else? was it then when i started seeking you first in every room, your voice in every pitch, your hands, arms, fingers touching mine— and me racing to reach you before you changed your mind? was it then that my heart wavered, and i thought, perhaps, that the dark wasn’t so lonely after all?

i never intended to keep you. i knew your eyes strayed elsewhere— i always noticed you first, but so did he, and him, and everyone that has ever met you. the fate of a goddess, maybe, to be beloved by all, to spill her love as floods to the people— but i knew you had long found your home in the soul of one. bloodbound by contract, kindred through heart and mind— how often i’d find myself rushing to stand before you only for him to already be there. 

the place by your side was never meant to be filled by me. but wen xiao, i’m no less absurd than you taught me to be. i would pray to a false god if it would make you safer; i would shoot even at the heavens if they tried to take you. flesh and blood is all i can offer you— is it too much to let me shield you with it?

later the worst of winter stole away your beloved, your closest friend, but kept me. still alive, rosy-cheeked and frostbitten on my knees in front of you, but the snow might as well have buried me too. live with me, die with them— and you picked up the dagger.

what does that mean, wen xiao? what am i supposed to do about what that means? you pulled me from the abyss, but am i not worthy enough to do the same for you?

the cold began to cling to me. one by one we lost the best and bravest of us, and i could do nothing to stop it. i thought myself useless, a drag, but you took my hand and said, so earnest, so warm, so thawing— i need you. you wouldn’t lie to me, but how badly i wish it were the truth.

it had been at least four fortnights since i’d ceased being afraid, since the fears in my heart stopped festering. they never disappeared, but i could stare at them head-on now, knowing that what a mortal lacks is only the difference of a body. you said that you thought of me as irreplaceable, and so i believed that’s what i was.

a fool’s tenacity is, perhaps, the strongest of all.

i woke to everyone but three gone, your tears pouring from the skies. he left to him white streaks in his hair, horseback roaming, world seeking; he left to you an age-old vow on paper, in jade, an impermanent parting, a once-more isolation.

and you left to me not even a farewell.

how is it that the demon hunting bureau is fuller than ever yet so grave with silence? how is that what i guard is no longer home to anyone that used to live in it?

i must be going mad, sometimes, to hear bells that no longer ring, bickering that never ends, idioms i’ll never be able to correct; to smell food i’ll never taste again, wine i’ll never get to drink, sulfur from cases unsolved; to see golden eyes, the rustle of notebook pages, the swoop of a brush— and feel the lilt of you, so willing for me to stay.

and so, absurdly, ridiculously, stupidly— i’m still here, wen xiao, and this is how i’ll remain. come and see me just once, and ask me what i asked you. three hundred years in a sundial: was it hard? the rest of my life with only your memory to keep me company— i’ll answer you the same.

don’t you want to know what my big-as-him secret is? i’ll give you a hint: if you see him in the rain, i see you in stone. just as pillars hold up these roofs, this city— the cliff i hung from was too-steep, yet you held me by the soles of my feet, dug yourself into my palms, and said look up, pei-jiejie. dawn has come.

the morning will always return after night. but wen xiao, when will you?

[hyunjining]

.

[loderlied]

posting on here is like my sisyphean boulder i'm constantly rolling tbh

[lieutenantselnia]

Internet archive I love you❤️❤️❤️

[roughentumble]

There is no justice for Junpei since his gf trapped him in a murder game twice and never apologised for giving him horrendous PTSD and somehow it feels like everyone except for me is just chill with it

[999/zero escape spoilers for anyone who cares]

i am actually also one of those people that thinks its fun and sexy that akane is off the walls and a conspiracy theorist and trapped him in a death game, sorry 😔 but i agree that he literally does Not get enough love or attention from the fandom, i really like junpei's character, and akane literally couldve picked ANYONE to be the pivotal person but it was junpei she knew, junpei she trusted, it was junpei who cared enough to pull through. he kept fighting no matter what!!! he was funny and nice and tenacious. like she was a little tiny baby girl who was going to die and she screamed out to the universe for help, and he heard her and he reached back for her.... even tho he was about to die too........ how could junpei's love for akane not rewrite your brainnnnn it was so GOOD. that's jumpy!!!! my best friend jumpy!!!!

[buddyapologist]

sc says 6 yrs ago I was doing dabs and drinking margaritas w my ex best friend and my ex partner and now I'm uh. laying here. miss that

[neon-vocalist]

she deserved so much more than what she got

[tht1person123]

nostalgia but painful. nostalgia but after wearing off i remember nothing i can do can bring me even close to that time again.

[7nuh]

WAS IT 'CASUAL' WHEN...? — TWST 1ST YEARS

Headcanons on the 'casual' things you do with him that made him wish that there was something more between you.

CW 𓂃 sfw, gn!reader, reader is implied to fit in Deuce's clothes in his part, pining

CHARAS 𓂃 Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, and Sebek Zigvolt

AN 𓂃 mostly* edited now 😎👍

ACE TRAPPOLA — you slept in the same bed?

Ramshackle isn't exactly known for having the best facilities or furniture, and that is a fact Ace has to make peace with whenever he gets kicked out by Riddle. It's always a little too chilly at night and the floors still creak beneath his feet. Even with a makeover, half of the beds are broken and that stiff couch downstairs is your next best bet at getting some semblance of sleep.

You insisted you really didn't mind sharing a bed at all and Ace took you up on your offer. In his words, "if you say so then!" Just create an invisible partition down the middle and the two of you should be fine. Sure, yeah, that'll be infinitely more comfortable than the couch, and Ace absolutely agrees. He repeats the thought to himself over and over again— this is supposedly the better alternative, isn't it?

Yeah, totally. He tries to convince himself that it's really not a big deal for him to be inches away from you at night and feel your warmth spreading through the sheets. God, you'd think he's a weirdo if you woke up and caught him staring right now, but he could always twist it into a dumb joke about your sleeping face looking like an ogre. Consequently, he would have to watch your face twist in annoyance and pretend he wasn't watching every rise and fall of your chest. He would rather lose his magic entirely than admit the ugly truth and make himself vulnerable to you.

Ace does realize he's being embarrassingly sappy and romantic, and he's disgusted at himself for these thoughts, but he can't help it. He can't change the fact your lips look so soft and your eyelashes are so pretty. This is freaking him out so much more than it should. Does this really mean nothing to you? Do really only see him as a friend? Fine, then the two of you are just friends sharing a bed then!

It's really nothing! Ace was the one who joked about it months ago, after all. But things (and his feelings) have changed and he cannot ignore that. Back then it wouldn't have been such a big deal, but now it is and he cannot calm his heart down no matter how hard he tries.

You're right there. It's not the first time he had to share a bed with someone but it's different now because it's you. He did the math and the two of you are only 10 inches apart. Ace almost reaches for you in his weakest moment until he remembers that the two of you are supposedly just two friends sharing a bed. You're doing him a favor by sheltering him for the night, that's all.

Ace retracts his hand right away at the very last second. He might have as well taken the goddamn couch (lest either of you wake up in each other's arms).

DEUCE SPADE — he lent his clothes?

You came here with next to nothing. You had exactly one change of clothes and pocket lint for change, so Deuce, being the righteous and honorable student that he is, decided to lend you some of his clothes for the meantime. It's what a good friend would do! It's a temporary arrangement that would last only until Crowley spares enough change for you to buy another set of uniforms.

But this arrangement drags on for so long even when you have a functional closet and multiple sets of better-fitting clothes. Deuce never really noticed until recently that a third of your (albeit very limited) wardrobe actually belongs to him. But whenever you tug on his sleeves for his latest sweater, he doesn't have the heart to tell you no.

When he went home during break, his mom even noticed that certain sweaters and shirts had gone missing. "I left them at the college," he tells her as to not worry her. It's technically the truth— it's back with you in the college (and you're probably wearing them right now; the mental image is enough to fluster him all of the sudden when it never did before). He has to get them back eventually since those clothes are his. He's sure you wouldn't mind? Right?

Simply asking for them back is the difficult part for Deuce. You're there in front of him wearing one of his older shirts that fit snugly around your figure and he's at a loss for words. It's worn down and outright hideous as hell but the very first thought that comes to mind is that you look good in it.

Ah, yeah. You walk around campus on non-school days wearing his clothes 1/3rd of the time and nobody else knows that those jackets and shirts and sweaters and button-ups are all his. You make even the ugliest ones look good, or maybe it's because you're the wearer and you always looked good to him? Do his eyes need to be checked...? Deuce is tortured by these thoughts while merrily go about your day. You're laughing at something stupid that Grim said and he can't hear anything else. There's a fight in the courtyard but he can't see anything else. There's a midterm tomorrow but he can't think of anything else. You're too distracting.

When you finally do remember to return a shirt or two, Deuce tells you there's really no need to return them. He insists that they're better off with you, but you laugh and remind him that you're no longer the same pathetic charity case you were at the start of the year.

The truth is, your scent still lingers on recently returned shirts. It's the closest he'll get to being skin-to-skin with you, and Deuce is supposed to ignore that but he cannot. Or maybe he's the only one making this weird for the two of you because it doesn't seem to bother you in the slightest (and he's bothered by that).

But when Deuce looks at the recently returned shirts in his hands, he hopes he has a chance. He hopes you think of him as much as he thinks of you. He hopes the odds of him not actually liking you after all make your guts churn and set butterflies in your chest at the same time. He hopes he isn't the only one yearning for used shirts, lingering scents, and ghost touches. But at the same time, you've only ever asked these kinds of favors from him... Deuce doesn't want to assume anything, but a blush creeps upon his cheeks all the same and he continues to hope for more.

JACK HOWL — you played with his ears and tail?

Beastmen weren't a thing back in your world, so seeing them regularly made you morbidly curious about their animalistic features. Jack was easily the best candidate to satisfy your intrusive thoughts because just who else could you ask about this? Leona wasn't exactly an option and Ruggie might rope you into some scheme of his. And Jack owed you a favor, after all, so this is what you decided to ask of him.

Jack's ears twitched— did he hear you correctly? His face scrunches up in confusion because you barely knew each other for you to be asking something like this. How could you ask something so personal from him? It's in your innocently eager expression that he realizes what's going on... you just didn't know. Fine, it should mean nothing to you and thus he agrees to let you pet his tail and ears for five seconds. Maximum.

It's supposed to be a one time thing but he finds him involuntarily offering up his tail whenever you look him like that. He's not even sure how it got to this point. After all, there are romantic connotations of having your tail petted by someone else and... nevermind. Ruggie and Leona have started simultaneously teasing him over it the very moment they caught wind of this peculiar arrangement. It doesn't help that Jack's tail is particularly sensitive and reactive, but he keeps a straight face no matter how much it embarrasses him.

Jack doesn't understand why you're so fascinated by his tail and ears because there are so many others just like him. However, he supposes it's not an entirely terrible feeling, though, to have your fingers absentmindedly rake across his tail and hair as the two of you study. It's relaxing, even, but he won't tell you that. Jack will never tell you that it gives him goosebumps all over and makes him shiver whenever you play with his tail. Or that he's begun wondering what it would be like to have your hands elsewhere, or for him to touch you in similar ways in return.

He doesn't understand why he craves your company but doesn't question it either. All he knows is that your hands are so soft and gentle and that he likes the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you smile in satisfaction. And when you hum a soft tune as the gap between the two of you closes, he wonders if he's the only one feeling this tension.

"Again?" Jack huffs. The pretext of this being a silly favor has been long forgotten. He should probably tell you soon that you shouldn't be doing this, but you just look so pleased with yourself when the two of settle down in a lesser-known corner of the library. The routine persists, the cycle continues. Hours later, the both of you have gone through multiple bags of chips, two movies on his laptop, and his tail is now comfortably curled around your abdomen as you read a book and he tends to his beloved cactus.

Again? Jack silently asks himself whenever he sees your face in a crowd. Could the two of you spend hours in a comfortable silence while the unsaid implications haunt him? He's started to ask himself— were you just playing dumb at this point or just plain stupid? Or what if you had known all along and the two of you were just dancing around it?

EPEL FELMIER — you kissed him?

Epel eventually learns to use the way others perceive him to his advantage; there's strength in appearing to be weak and striking when the iron is hot. Still, he couldn't help but wish to be seen for his talents and strength instead of his beauty at the first glance. The first assumption everyone makes of him, for god's sake, is that he's a fragile little thing from a rich family, and, quite frankly, he's sick of it.

So he's secretly delighted when none of his charms worked on you and you yank him by the ear for even attempting. A few curse words and rough shoves later, both of you are on the floor, grappling and wrestling against each other. The two of you are laughing so hard and swearing so loudly that you'll probably wake up the rest of Pomefiore at this rate, but neither of you care. It's just the two of you right now grasping at each other like your life depended on it.

It's a nice change of pace to be openly exchanging insults instead of restraining himself. He enjoys the comfortable rhythm the two of you share— from all the brawls and the bantering and the hugs and to the kisses on the cheek. Yes, kisses. They started as simple thank you's after a few favors here and there, and just one of them is enough to make a mess out of Epel for weeks. Better yet, you only seem to be showering him with more and more of your attention and he relishes in it.

Ah, things are finally working out for him! He found someone he could confide in and he's sure that there's a spark between the two of you. By the end of the year, he might have someone to bring home and brag about to his relatives—

All the momentum halts when he sees you across the hall granting the rest of your friends the same levels of affection. From all the brawls to the bantering to the hugs and the kisses, none of those were ever solely his to take delight upon. It doesn't matter that he opened up to you about all his fears and insecurities because he was never special. You were just the kind of person who got along and felt comfortable with everyone around you, but Epel hates that he has no one to blame but himself. He willingly walked your warmth but it was never his to take.

It finally dawns upon him that you have never seen him in a romantic light and that was why you were so comfortable around him. In retrospect, the bond you two shared was more sibling-like than anything— and believe him when he says he's incredibly grateful that the two of you were that close —but it doesn't make it hurt any less to know that your affections never carried any romantic intentions after he had pinned for you for so long.

Even when he takes a step back, you're cruel in a roundabout way by continuing to be so kind and loving towards him. How was Epel supposed to make sense of your relationship after realizing he misunderstood you...?

And he also hates to admit this, but his self-confidence takes a huge blow from this. Epel genuinely thought he could be loved for who he was based on the time you spent together. It gnaws at him and eats him alive to finally know the truth, and sometimes he wishes he never found out at all.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT — you wrote him love letters?

So, Sebek asked (demanded) to be penpals...

It's all because Lilia told him it would be a good exercise of diplomacy, he insisted. As the young master's bodyguard, he will have to be as courteous as possible even in unpleasant company. He also rationalized, admittedly partly because of you, that forging bonds with magicless humans may be a worthwhile endeavor after all! It's all rather suspicious (and you suspect his real intentions have something to do with your friendship with Malleus), but Sebek has never been one to lie about his intentions. If anything, the popular opinion was that he's a little too honest and should learn a thing or two about holding back.

There's something very unconventional in sending handwritten letters in this day and age of modern technology, but also something very romantic and fantastical— much like the many fictional knights he had read about. It helps a lot that he's not directly confronted by the fact you are very much a magicless human who shouldn't be in NRC whenever he spills out his heart's contents unto multiple pages. It was a way for him to release his frustrations, celebrate his achievements, and talk about the dull, little things thats happened in his day-to-day life to someone who listened.

And listen you did. Turns out, when you're not subjected to his 1000 decibel shouting, Sebek is a rather earnest guy who worked hard and acknowledged others who also worked equally as hard no matter their disposition. To say the least, you understand why Lilia found it so entertaining to tease him.

It completely flies over his head that you had been flirting with him for months through these letters. Your everyday interactions with each other had been completely normal, so how was he supposed to notice?! It takes multiple rereads and many late-night discussions with the other Diasomnia dormers to decode and understand all the double entendres and hidden 'i love you's' in each and every letter. It was so needlessly difficult, but Lilia laughs in his face and pats him at the back for a job well-done.

"There's no way," he thinks to himself late at night and finds himself doubting Lilia's claims for once. But when Sebek steals a glance in your direction and you smile back in return, he's never felt weaker in his knees. You're absolutely and undeniably magic-less... but somehow you had casted a spell that made his chest tighten and shut him up. He hadn't even realized how much time he was spending with you and thinking about you when he wasn't.

Except nothing has changed in-person. You're acting like you hadn't meticulously hidden your affections for him in those letters, and he was starting to seriously doubt all of it. Yeah, were you event smart enough to pull off all that? As some magic-less human?

Actually... Sebek realizes that you are capable of outsmarting him after getting to know you much better through those letters. He's never been one to deny where credit it was due. Now, Sebek's just deeply ashamed that he failed to accurately assess your character before making judgements based on superficial traits. He knows better than anyone that you're witty, charming, brave, kind, beautiful, ambitious—

Oh no.

Oh no.

Sebek simply explodes on the spot once he realizes that he had been oblivious to his own feelings for you too. He had thoroughly examined every aspect of this conundrum except from within. Quite embarrassing from an esteemed knight of the prince of nocturnal fae to be this slow, really.

[cherieprincess]

bittersweet tag ramble to get some thoughts off my chest

[xosannie]

Dirty Little Secret

☆Genre: Smut MDNI 18+ only

☆Pairing: sex worker!mingi x afab!reader (best friends to ??)

☆Word count: 7.6k

☆Warnings: Porn, eye contact, praising, oral/face sitting (f receiving), use of sex toys (m receiving), reader records Mingi masturbate, dirty talk, begging, Mingi is pretty soft, fingering (f receiving), you’re both desperate, reader is easily flustered and Mingi is a tease (let me know if I missed any)

☆Summary: Your best friend Mingi stays the night at your place after not seeing each other in a while. When he abandons his phone you decide to play on it, the last thing you were expecting to find was his secret porn account.

—————————————————————————

After a nice shower, you’re lying in bed watching the show you’ve been binge-watching for days. Suddenly, you feel your phone vibrate beside you, getting a text from Mingi.

Loser (Mingi): Yo, I’m here >:)

A smile grew on your face, jumping out of bed and running toward the door. When you swing the door open, you’re met with a smiling Mingi, his sleepover bag in one hand, his other resting on the top of the doorframe.

“Wassup bitch!” You exclaim.

Mingi smiles wide, pulling you in for a hug, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as your hands wrap around his waist. You swear he grew taller from the last time you saw him. 

You and Mingi haven’t been able to hang out much anymore. With your different jobs, your schedules just don’t align. Adult life is lame. Sometimes you wish you could go back to your teenage years, when you both hung out practically every day. After school, during lunch, whenever you wanted. But here you are; you have your own apartment, car, and job, but life is still boring when you can’t see your best friend much.

“Hello to you too,” he giggles.

When you pull away, Mingi steps inside, sliding his shoes off and putting his keys down on the table.

“Oh my god, I’m so excited! When was the last time we had a sleepover? It feels like ages.”

Mingi runs his hands through his short blonde hair, thinking to himself to recall the last sleepover, letting out a sigh. 

“Damn, I don’t even remember.”

His hand dropped to his side, and you watched as his black and white beaded bracelet swung around his wrist. You look down at your matching one on your wrist and smile softly. 

“Aw, you still wear this?”

You reach over, toying with the beads on Mingi’s wrist. This was a bracelet you made for Mingi years ago, and you decided to make a matching one for yourself. It was basically a friendship bracelet, but Mingi never liked calling it that; he thought it was too cringeworthy. (You know he secretly likes it, though.)

“Of course I do; I never take it off.” 

You both make your way to the bedroom. Mingi drops his bag down on the bed, and you plop down on the mattress. He unzips his bag, digging through to pick out his sleeping clothes.

“Before I get settled, I want to shower; I just got out of the gym not too long ago.”

“Is that why you’re dressed like Adam Sandler?”

Mingi snaps his head up, glaring at you with narrow eyes, fighting back a smile.

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

You giggle at his reactions, looking him up and down with a feigned disgust.

“Oh honey, you’re wearing shorts, a baggy tee, and flip-flops. If that’s not an Adam Sandler fit, I don’t know what is.”

Mingi rolls his eyes at your comment, secretly thinking it was funny, but he wouldn’t let you know that. Your ego is already too big. He grabs his clothes and washbag, heading toward the conjoined bathroom in your bedroom. 

“I’m going to ignore you and shower.”

Mingi stops in his tracks, pulling his phone out of his pocket to hand it to you. 

“Oh, before I go, can you charge my phone?”

You grab it, still laughing softly to yourself, and plug it in the charger. 

“I got you; now go shower you smelly boy.” 

Mingi chuckles and walks off into the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, you hear the shower running, and you’re laying back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Mingi was only gone for a minute, and you were already bored. You let out a sigh, looking around the room to find something to entertain you. You peek over at the bedside table, glancing at Mingi’s phone.

You grab the phone, laughing to yourself. You used to do this thing whenever Mingi left his phone around: take a bunch of funny photos of yourself and set them as his lock screen. You liked to see his reactions when he finds the photos, and sometimes he would keep it on his phone screen for a long time. You haven’t done it in a while, so why not do it again? It was a harmless prank that always made you two laugh. 

You turn on his phone, the screen shining brightly on your face, almost blinding you. His lock screen was a picture of an anime character from Chainsaw Man. ‘What a dweeb’ you thought to yourself. You put in his passcode, letting out a little victory chuckle when it let you in. Although your laugh immediately died down when your eyes met with a random Twitter account. That’s weird; you follow Mingi on all social media platforms, but you’ve never seen this one. 

You furrow your brows in confusion, Sir Min, the username read. What was this account? And why was Mingi looking at it? Clearly he was just on it; the app loaded up right as you turned on the phone. You read the bio, and your heart pounded.

‘18+ NSFW These videos and pics all belong to me. If you like what you see, sub to my OF;)’

What? 

You spring up, hunching over with the phone inches away from your face. You heard the pounding of your heart in your ears; you were frozen, blankly staring at the words on the screen. There was a voice in your head telling you to stop; this felt like something you shouldn’t be seeing. You should really turn Mingi’s phone off and put it away, out of sight, out of mind. 

Yeah, you definitely should put the phone down... but your curiosity got the best of you. Your trembling thumb slowly scrolled down the page. Your heart dropped when you saw the first video. 

A man sat back in a chair; you were unable to see his face; only his neck down was in view. His sweats were pulled down to his midthigh, and his shirt was hitched up, exposing his soft stomach. Your mouth grew dry when you noticed the way he was teasingly stroking his dick, occasionally slapping it against his abdomen. You watched in awe as a string of spit ran down into view and landed on his pink tip. 

What. The. Fuck. 

You watched the way his black and white beaded bracelet bounced on his wrist as he stroked his (fairly big) cock. Your breath hitched, and you were ashamed when you felt a pant of arousal rush through your body. Your stomach churned when you realized the man on the screen wasn’t just any man; it was Mingi. 

You were so engrossed in the video in front of you that you failed to notice the trickling of the shower ceased. The sound of jiggling from the bathroom doorknob brought you back to your senses, and you immediately turned off the phone and threw it on the bed. 

Mingi walked out of the bathroom, ruffling his hair with the towel to dry it off. You laid back, grabbing your own phone to look as casual as possible. 

“I feel so much better now.”

Mingi sighed, throwing the towel on a chair in the corner of the room. He looked at you with a small smile, placing his hands on his hips. You’re heart was still racing, and you had to stop your eye’s from wandering down at Mingi’s topless body. His sweats hung low on his hips, and Calvin Klein underwear peaked at the top.

“About time, I almost died of boredom.”

You sit up, internally patting yourself on the back for sounding so nonchalant. Mingi chuckled and crawled in bed beside you. 

“So what do you want to do?” 

You stared at Mingi as he grew closer to you, subconsciously scooting away a bit. It was a little change in demeanor, but Mingi noticed it right away. He decided not to think too much about it, and he leaned in closer.

“You’re not going to put on a shirt?” 

Your tone was a bit more nervous than you anticipated. Mingi looked down at his topless body and shrugged.

“It never bothered you before.”

He reached over, grabbing the remote to scroll through the TV. He’s right, it never has before, so why does it bother you now? You sit back against the headboard, staring at the TV screen. You’re mind kept thinking back at the video; you definitely shouldn’t have seen it... but why are you a bit disappointed you couldn’t see more?

You never thought Mingi would be the type to sell nudes for money. You knew there was a lot of catching up to do, but you certainly weren’t expecting that. 

“Oh my god, I love this movie. Have you seen it?” 

Mingi turns to you, his eyes bright with excitement. You couldn’t seem to stare at him; your gaze stayed on the TV.

“Oh, no, I haven’t. We can watch it.”

“Yes! Okay, I think you’ll like this one a lot; it’s hilarious.”

Mingi smiles wide and plays the movie. He lays back in the bed, turning toward your direction to lay his head on the pillow beside you. His hair tickled your arm, and your body grew hot when you felt his leg entangle in yours. You sit up abruptly, and Mingi looks up at you confused.

“I have to use the restroom. I’ll be back.”

“Ok… Don’t take too long, though. I know you just sit on the toilet watching Tik Toks.” 

You roll your eyes and chuck a pillow at him. Mingi giggles while blocking your attack. You walked into the bathroom, trying to act as casual as possible. When the door closes behind you, you press yourself back against the wall, trying to comprehend everything.

Why hasn’t Mingi told you about this? 

How long has he been doing it for? 

Why did it turn you on? 

All these questions raced in your head. You hate how you’re acting right now. I mean, Mingi is a grown man; he can do this type of work if he wanted to. You never cared when you found out other people were interested in sex work. So why are you reacting this way when it comes to Mingi?

After you pulled yourself together, you stepped out of the bathroom. Mingi laid in your bed, head resting on his hand as he watched the movie. You sat down beside Mingi, keeping a little distance from him.

“Welcome back.”

He smiled, noticing the way you sat a bit farther, furrowing his brows in confusion.

“I don’t have some kind of disease; come over here.”

Mingi reached over, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You gasp loudly, feeling your core ache again at the way he can easily manhandle you. You mentally curse yourself for reacting that way. 

It’s not unusual to be clingy with Mingi; you both do it all the time, but for some reason every time he touched you, you couldn’t stop thinking about how it would feel to have his hands touch other places.

You let out an awkward chuckle when Mingi snuggled his head in your lap; you’re body tensed when feeling how close he was. You couldn’t believe yourself; you’re really thinking dirty thoughts about your best friend, who is innocently snuggled into you.

The whole time you guys were lounging and watching the movie, you couldn’t seem to relax. Your hands stayed glued to your sides, and you keep getting lost in thought, not paying attention to the film at all.

Your unnatural behavior didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi. He tried to let it slide the first time, but when he saw that your body wasn’t relaxed and you weren’t playing with his hair like you usually do, he let out a sigh. He sat up, pausing the movie and turning to you with a suspicious look.

“Okay, what’s your problem?” 

Your head jerked in Mingi’s direction, not expecting him to ask that. You try to find words, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

“What do you mean?” 

Mingi stares at you with a knowing glance and a small frown. 

“You’re acting weird. It’s like you’re scared of me or something. You won’t relax; you’re hardly talking to me, and you won’t even touch me.”

Your heart aches at his words; you were so shaken by what you saw on Mingi’s phone that you subconsciously started to treat him weirdly. You thought for a moment, debating whether to come clean or pretend like nothing happened.

Mingi stared at you intently, waiting for an answer. You can see the slight worry in his eyes. You already knew he was starting to feel a bit insecure by the look on his face. You let out a small sigh.

"No, Mingi, you didn’t do anything wrong to get me upset.”

“How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”

“You’re making that sad puppy face.” 

Mingi smiled softly at your words, looking away as you both chuckled. He felt a small pang of relief but was still worried, wanting to know what’s wrong.

“Then what’s wrong?”

He scooted closer, wanting to wrap his arm around your shoulder, but based on your behavior earlier, he kept his hands to himself. 

You decided to give in; fuck it, just tell him the truth. You take in a breath before speaking in a shaky tone.

“Well, when you were in the shower. I wanted to mess with you, so I took your phone, and when I turned it on..."

Your voice drifted off. Mingi waited patiently to hear you out. Soon he came to realize what you saw; his heart dropped and his eyes widen.

“Oh-“

You turn away feeling embarrassed; you didn’t want to look Mingi in the eyes. You felt so bad; how could you invade his privacy like that?

“I’m sorry; I swear I didn’t mean to see that. I just wanted to take funny photos of myself on your phone. The app was already open when I turned it on.”

Mingi lets out a small chuckle at your nervous rambling. The noise caused you to relax a bit, knowing he wasn’t angry.

“I’m sorry..” 

You say quietly, looking like a sad puppy with its ears flopped down. Mingi coos internally at your expression, ruffling your hair.

“It’s okay”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, leaning back against the headboard and hiding your face in your hands. 

“Did you see anything?”

You can hear the slight shyness hiding under his attempt to sound confident. You paused for a moment, thinking back at the video you watched, and nodded slowly.

Mingi nervously chuckles at your response, trying to sound cocky and playful to lift the mood.

“Did you like what you saw?” 

You sat there in silence, your face heating up behind your hands at his question. Your silence was all Mingi needed to know the answer; he raised his brows and his heart quickened. He mostly said that as a joke, but seeing your reaction ignited a fire in him. 

“Oh…..oh. What video did you watch?”

He smirked, scooting a bit closer. You nudged Mingi away, rolling your eyes at his teasing behavior. 

“Fuck off, Mingi. I already have the sight of your dick in my head. I don’t need to hear your sexy voice.”

Mingi smiles wide, liking the reaction you’re having. To be frank, Mingi was embarrassed at first when you revealed that you saw his secret porn account. Although after seeing your reaction, he has a newfound confidence coursing through him. 

"No, no, just tell me. Which video was it?”

You glared at him wanting to smack the smirk off his smug face (or kiss it off, but let’s not get needy). You roll your eyes, knowing Mingi wasn’t going to let this go.

“It was...the one of you.”

You moved your fist up and down, not being able to say it out loud. You couldn’t meet his gaze; you didn’t have to see his face to know he was smirking wide.

“Oh that? That’s a popular one of mine.”

“Ugh, Mingi I don’t need to know what gets your fucking fans all horned up.”

You groan, pushing Mingi away. He laughs softly, noticing the small blush creeping up in your cheeks.

"Aw, come on, I know you liked it.”

It’s not unusual for Mingi to talk to you in a teasing, flirty tone. It never used to phase you, but something about this situation in particular makes you ache between your legs. 

You roll your eyes, plopping down on the bed, and cover yourself with the blanket. Mingi chuckled as he watched you hide away. You spoke back in a muffled voice.

“I’m going to bed, freak.”

He patted you on the back, still laughing softly, and turned off the light.

“Good night; try not to have any wet dreams of me.”

You kicked him under the covers; he let out a small groan and forced yourself to sleep. Embarrassing to say... you do in fact have a wet dream of Mingi that night. Not your proudest moments, but you’re only human. 

————————————————————————

Weeks have past since that night. It almost felt like you two grew even closer after finding out Mingi’s big secret. After that night of the sleepover, you both had a deep talk about why Mingi entered this line of work in the first place. 

He explained to you how he was struggling with money and his own body image. At first he didn’t want to resort to that kind of work, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Once he uploaded his first video, he grew an audience pretty quickly; that’s when he learned that he liked making content more than he thought he would. 

It taught him how to appreciate his body and his own pleasure, and after meeting new people in the same kind of work, he realized that he wasn’t alone in his struggles. Also, the amount of money that comes in was very nice; who could complain? 

After he opened up to you, you had a different view on the situation at hand. Knowing the reason for everything, you grew to admire Mingi more, and it never bothered you when he would speak about his "films." He would even ask you for advice or requests on what he should post next. 

What you weren’t proud of, though, was the late nights you spent staring up at your ceiling. Phone in hand, the Twitter search tab open as you fight the urge to search his account again. The amount of times you made yourself cum while watching Mingi fuck a flesh light was embarrassing to say out loud. 

You were on your way to Mingi’s house, a grocery bag of snacks in your hand. You parked in front of his house, pulling out your phone to text him. 

You: “Aye loser, I’m here.”

You gather your belongings, stepping out of the car and walking to his front door. You didn’t get a reply, which was weird. You glanced down at your phone, waiting to see the three dots to indicate he was typing. When they don’t appear, you shoot another text.

You: "I said I’m here 💀"

No reply; that’s weird. 

You jiggle the front door knob only to find it was unlocked all along. Usually when he leaves it that way, he expects you to just walk in, and that you do. 

When you stepped into the living room, it was vacant; there weren’t any games set up for you two on the table. You furrow your brows in confusion and set your bags down, slipping off your shoes.

“Mingi?”

You hear a thump noise coming from his bedroom, and your heart drops. What was that? It sounded like something falling. Without a second thought, you rushed to his bedroom, afraid that maybe he fell to the ground or something like that.

You hear a small groan of annoyance coming from his room; you barged in no hesitation and immediately froze when you saw him. 

Mingi stood at the edge of his bed, pants down and very hard; his tripod lay broken on the floor. When Mingi looked up at you, he frozen for a second, rummaging behind him to pick up a pillow and cover himself up. You quickly shut the door in your own face, walking away from his room. 

Once you reach the front door, ready to drop everything and leave because WHAT THE FUCK MINGI WAS FILMING A PORNO, you hear his bedroom door open and he runs toward you.

“Wait y/n, don’t...”

You stop in your tracks, turning around slowly when you feel Mingi’s hand grasp your shoulder. He was wearing black sweats and nothing else. His cheeks were flushed red, and he was out of breath.

“I’m sorry, Mingi; I texted you but you didn’t answer. The door was unlocked, so I came in, then I heard this sound and thought maybe you were hurt.” 

“Y/n, you’re rambling again.”

You shut your mouth, looking away from Mingi. He chuckled softly, moving his hand from your shoulder to his waist.

"Sorry, I didn’t see your message. I thought you would have taken longer to get here, and I needed to film a video.”

You scratch the back of your neck; it took every ounce in you not to look down at his large bulge in his sweats. You clear your throat, feeling awkward and bad for just barging in the way you did. 

“Do you, um, want me to go? so you can..you know.” 

You gestured toward his bulge, trying to maintain eye contact but failing. He looked down, a blush creeping on his cheeks, before covering himself with his hand. 

"Um, I would, but that thump you heard was my tripod falling and breaking into bits, so...”

“Oh, I mean, do you really need that? Just prop it down on the table or something.”

“I can't; it doesn’t get the right angle.”

You roll your eyes at his remarks, scoffing.

“You’re being picky; just put your phone down and jerk it, not that hard.”

Mingi laughs at your words, the tension in the room lifting. Your body finally starts to relax, and you can tell Mingi was feeling the same way. 

“It’s not that easy; when I put my phone on the table, the lighting looks all weird. I want to make good videos for my viewers; that way I get more money.”

He rubs his thumb and index finger together. You smile at him, finding his care for quality videos strangely endearing. 

“Let me see.”

He takes you to his room; when you enter, you see the broken tripod. It was snapped in half on the floor; there was no fixing it. 

“I mean, do you have tape?”

“No.”

You stroke your chin, thinking on how to help this situation.

“Just get a new one; do you really need to film a video now?”

“Yeah, this isn’t just any video; it’s a commission. I need to film it, or else the buyer would be upset.”

You both ponder for a moment; you wanted to help but didn’t know how. Suddenly Mingi looks over at you, a look in his eyes that you couldn’t pin point.

“What if…you film me?”

Your eyes widen, and your head snaps toward his direction. 

“What!?”

Mingi walks closer to you, grabbing your hands with a pleading look.

"Oh, come on, y/n, I need to film this video. You’re my best friend, and I need your help; besides, you’ve already seen my dick!” 

You stood there, mouth open, unable to form words. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, and your ears heated up. You scoff at Mingi, looking away, not wanting him to see the small blush on your cheeks.

He keeps trying to meet your gaze, eyes desperate and pleading.

“Please? I’m not going to make you do this if you’re uncomfortable, but please consider. Help your bestie make a bag.” 

You laugh softly at his words, looking into his eyes; it was hard to deny that look. After a moment of silence, you thought, Fuck it. Mingi needed your help; you knew you were the only one who could help in this way (totally wasn’t because you secretly wanted to see Mingi touch himself). 

“Fine, okay,” you sighed.

Mingi smiles wide, pulling you in for a hug.

“Thank you! Okay, all you have to do is stand here and record me. Pretty simple.”

Mingi walked your body to the edge of the bed, wanting you to stay there. He gives you his phone after opening the camera app and looks at you excitedly. You couldn’t help but think how cute Mingi looked right now. (Despite the fact that he was going to whip it out in a few seconds.)

“Wait, before I do this, you better promise that we will pretend like nothing happened and move on. Don’t think I’ll be your camerawoman from now on, just this once.” 

“Okay, I promise.” Mingi chuckles.

You let out a sigh, holding up the camera to point it at the bed. 

“Hurry before I change my mind," you huff. 

Mingi scurries on the bed, sitting at the edge. He grips the waistband of his sweats, hesitating for a moment.

“Make sure not to get my face. Wait, sit down. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing the chair beside you to take a seat. You were now at eye level with Mingi, sitting a foot away from him. After you take a deep breath, you press record.

“Ok go.”

Mingi moves when he hears the ding of the camera, indicating that you started recording. He reached behind him to grab something; your heart dropped when you saw what it was. 

His flesh light. 

He begins to speak, talking to the person who you presume bought this specific video as a commission. He stands up, rubbing his bulge through his sweats. You gulp, trying not to let your trembling hands mess up the video. 

You look up, locking eyes with him. Mingi twitched in his pants, biting his lip and letting out a small groan. You quickly tore your gaze away, staring at the screen in front of you. 

You swore you saw a hint of a blush creeping on Mingi’s cheeks when you both locked eyes. You watched as his hands ran up his hips, gripping the waistband of his sweats to pull them down slowly. You breathe hitched when his big dick sprung up and slapped his lower abdomen.

You swear you’ve never seen him that hard; from all the videos you (secretly) watched of him, you never saw him like this. His tip was red, leaking cum; a long vein ran down the side of his length. You subconsciously squeeze your thighs together, feeling yourself throb between your legs.

That didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi; damn him, why was he so observant? He chuckled softly, taking his cock in his hands and stroking it at a slow, teasing pace.

“You want it?”

For a second, you thought he was talking to you, but you figured he was probably just speaking sexy for the video. He tends to do that a lot (I mean, how would you know that?haha...). 

Mingi sat back down on the bed, slowly stroking his dick and moaning quietly. He reached behind him to grab some lube, lathering it on his length. 

Your mouth watered at the sight. God, he looked so good. You wish you could just drop the phone and take his large dick in your mouth. Then he wouldn’t need the lube.

Your try to shake away the thought, keeping a neutral face as you held the phone in front of you. You watch as Mingi bites his lip, taking the flesh light and aligning his length with it. He slowly pushed the toy down, letting out a low moan. 

You had to bite your lip to hold back the noises that threatened to escape. Holy fuck, you’re watching Mingi fuck himself right in front of you. Not to mention, it’s turning you on deeply. 

Mingi leans his head back, letting out gasps when he moves the toy up and down. Your stomach churned, you watched the screen intently as his hand moved faster, and you noticed the way his hips buck up slightly.

“Fuck, that’s so good.”

You felt his intense gaze, and when you looked over at him, your eyes locked again. You press your lips together, trying so hard to stay quiet. His brows furrowed as he stared at you, fucking up into the flesh light desperately.

You sat there frozen, as if you were hypnotized by Mingi’s pretty noises and desperate eyes. His gasps grew more harsh, and he quickly pulled the toy off him. He panted while his hard dick twitched uncontrollably.

"Fuck, I almost came already,” he groaned breathlessly. 

You take in a deep breath; the aching of your pussy became more unbearable the more you watched. You tried everything to ease the feeling—crossing your legs, shifting in your seat. You couldn’t help it when your hand reached down to press your fingers against your clit through your leggings. 

Mingi watched your movements, moaning softly and taking his length back in the toy. His eyes glued to your hips as he fucked himself. The squelching from the toy shot straight to your core; you can feel your slick sticking to your underwear. 

“Fuck baby…”

He groans, throwing his head back and moaning. You watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down and his chest heaving. The bed was squeaking from the way Mingi’s hips bounced up and down in the toy. He could feel your eyes on him, and it turned him on more than he thought it would.

“I’m gonna….”

He moaned breathlessly, looking back at you with the prettiest fucked-out face you’ve ever seen.

“I’m gonna come for you.” 

Your heart clenched (and so did your pussy). At this moment, you knew he wasn’t speaking for the video; he was speaking to you. Your hand reached up to cover your mouth as you watched Ming unravel.

His eyes rolled in the back of his head when he ripped the toy off him, taking his cock in his other hands to jerk it off quickly. He whimpered, cursing out loud when his cum shot up, landing on his fist and stomach. You moaned quietly when you watched some of his release land on the beads of the matching bracelet you both wore. 

He sat there for a moment, panting heavily, trying to catch his breath. He chuckled softly, setting the flesh light down and waving at the camera.

“Thank you for buying.” 

You ended the recording, slowing, moving your hands down to stare at Mingi’s tired body. He plopped down on the bed, panting while looking up at the ceiling. You clear your throat, standing up on your trembling legs, setting his phone down on the table. 

“Well….that was…interesting.”

You stand there awkwardly, hands resting in front of you, trying not to look at Mingi, who was sprawled out naked on the bed. He props himself on his elbows after cleaning himself up, laughing while he looked at you.

"Yes, very interesting; that was good.”

You smiled softly, your throbbing pussy didn’t subside, and looking at a fucked-out smiling Mingi didn’t help. You noticed the way Mingi’s eyes ran up and down your body. 

“Do you think it was good?” He asked.

You bit your lip, walking closer.

"Yeah, it was good; you looked really hot.”

Mingi smirked at you, biting his lip. He sits up, reaching forward to grab your hips. You gasped when you felt him pull you closer. 

“I can tell you enjoyed it; I noticed the way you wanted to touch yourself. And the look on your face... you looked so cute.”

You blushed at his words; you already felt embarrassment creep up from the way you acted. You groaned, looking away and holding onto Mingi’s shoulders.

“Ugh, stop teasing me. It’s not my fault; you looked so….sexy.”

Mingi smirked up at you; the look in his eyes caused your body to shudder in desire. He gripped your hips harder, hands running down to grip your thighs.

“Oh yeah? I was sexy?”

"Mingi, don’t do that.”

Mingi cocked his head to the side, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t talk to me like you want to fuck me. I won’t be able to control myself.” 

“Then don’t; let me make you feel good.”

You reach up, cupping his face while you look down at him. You knew deep down you shouldn’t do this with Mingi, but damn it, you both already crossed so many lines. Besides, you were desperately horny, and fuck Mingi looked so hot right now. 

You pushed Mingi down on the bed, crawling on top of him while you smashed your lips together. You felt him smirk in the kiss, and his hands reached to grip your waist. The kiss was hungry and needy, tongues darting out to entangle in each other's mouth. 

You couldn’t think about how you were acting in this moment because you didn’t care. You sat up, ripping your shirt off your body, Mingi’s hands instinctively running up to grasp your breasts through your bra. He smiled up at you, and you reached down to stroke his face.

“You looked so unbelievably sexy, Mingi. I can’t take it anymore. I need you to fuck me.”

Mingi chuckles, pulling you down to kiss you again; his hand makes its way in your leggings. His finger grazing your wet panties, he groans in the kiss, pulling away to look down at your hips. You feel his fingers push the fabric of your soiled panties to the side, dipping his finger in your folds. He gasps softly, looking up at you with furrowed brows, his jaw going slack. 

“Fuck baby, you’re already so wet. Did I do this to you?” 

You nod your head eagerly, rocking your hips to grind against Mingi’s fingers. He moans quietly at your reaction, feeling a sense of pride for having that kind of effect on you. 

He circles your clit, pressing down while watching your every expression.

There’s that look again—the same look Mingi gave you while you recorded him. You subconsciously rock your hips faster, getting lost in Mingi’s brown eyes. You whine, wanting to feel more; the slow circling of Mingi’s fingers on your clit wasn’t enough. 

“Baby, please take my pants off. I need to feel more of you.”

Mingi has never seen this side of you, desperate and pleading. He can already feel himself getting hard again, dick twitching when you begged for him.

“Oh god, don’t you worry, baby, I’ll make you feel good.”

He pulled off your leggings and panties; you kicked them off, pushing them to the side. Mingi took in your naked body, staring hungrily at you. His grip on your hips was tight, and the warmth of your pussy hovering over his hard length caused him to shudder in delight.

“Baby, before I fuck you, I need to taste you; fuck please,” he begged.

You whimper at his words, nodding eagerly and moving your body up till you straddled his face. Mingi held on tightly to your thighs, pulling you down. He did not hesitate to stick his tongue out, eagerly licking up your wetness. 

You gasp at the feeling, not fully preparing yourself for the sensation. You entangle your fingers in his short blonde hair, throwing your head back and moaning his name. He groaned the second he had the taste of your pussy on his tongue. Licking slow strips up and down your cunt, he dug his nails in your skin, needing to feel you as close as possible. 

You moaned when you felt his tongue dip in your hole, slurping up all your juices. His long nose bumped against your clit; you couldn’t help but ride his face grinding against him. 

This is something you’ve always fantasized about, sitting on Mingi’s nose while he sucked at your wet pussy. You felt like you were in a state of euphoria, moaning and whining loudly; occasionally Mingi would grunt against your pussy as well. God, you loved the sound—the sounds of his moans and the lewd slurping filling up the room. 

You looked down at him, whimpering when you saw he was already looking up at you. You felt him smile against your core; he shook his head side to side to cause more friction on your clit with the tip of his nose. He licked up, taking your bundle of nerves in his mouth and sucking, massaging the bud with his tongue. 

Your legs trembled around his head, and you pulled his hair, causing him to moan louder. His hands roamed up your body. Holding your waist to grind your hips again this face. He wanted to feel you, wanted you to smear your pussy all over him, make a mess. 

“Mingi…you are…so good,” you gasped. 

Mingi’s desperation turned you on greatly. He was so eager to please you; it was evident that he was just as needy for you as you were for him. Years and years of tension all let out in this moment right here. 

Embarrassing to admit, you were already feeling your orgasm creep up. You were so lost in the pleasure you didn’t even notice when Mingi’s hand snaked down your hips; the feeling of his finger prodding at your hole made your body tremble.

You fell forward, catching yourself with your hands resting on the mattress above Mingi’s head. His index finger pushed inside you slowly; you tried so hard not to let your arms give out beneath you. Mingi pulled off for a second to chuckle, sliding his finger in and out of you with ease. You whined pathetically and clenched hard around Mingi’s finger. Mingi, push your body up so you could sit up right.

“You wanna lay down, baby?”

His finger continued to move inside you at an agonizing pace, running his hand up and down your stomach soothingly. You couldn’t even form words; all you could do was pout and nod. He smiles at you, cooing at your expression before speaking.

"Aw, look at you; you’re so pretty. Come on, lay down on the bed for me.”

You whined when you felt his finger leave your cunt, making you feel empty. He helped you shift on the bed, laying you back against the soft mattress and crawling over to you. You looked down at Mingi, subconsciously spreading your legs wide as if you were inviting him in. 

He chuckled at the sight, his head immediately dipping down back to pussy. He softly licked your clit,  looking up at you and pushing his fingers back into your hole.

“That’s it, pretty girl; you take my fingers so well.”

You whimper, shyly looking away, feeling more vulnerable under Mingi.

"No, baby, don’t look away. Look at me.”

You felt a wave of need wash over you at his command, snapping your head back down to lock eyes with Mingi.

“Keep looking at me, okay? I want to see your face when I fingerfuck you.”

He entered another finger in you, pushing them in and out of you. The lewd sounds of your wet pussy  squelching were music to Mingi’s ears. He moaned softly, dipping his head down to suck on your clit while he fingered your hole. 

Although Mingi’s mouth and hands felt absolutely amazing, you couldn’t help but feel more needy. You needed more; you needed to feel Mingi inside you. You could scream if you didn’t get to feel Mingi’s dick in you right now.

“Mingi baby, please, I need more. I need... to feel you inside.”

He smirked, replying back in a teasing tone.

“Aw, but I’m already inside.”

“Nooo, you know what I mean.”

You squirm under his touch, whining desperately to stop his teasing.

“Come on, use your words.”

You felt a blush creep up on your face, closing your eyes for a moment and taking in a breath. 

“Please….fuck me. I need to feel your cock inside.”

Mingi’s body ignited at the sight of you begging for him; you looked so desperate; how could he say no to a face like that? 

“Good girl.”

He pulled his fingers out, crawling up your body and smashing his lips on yours. You instinctively reached up, entangling your fingers in his hair. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in impossibly closer.

“You’re so fucking cute when you beg for me,” he grunted.

You could only reply with a whimper, cupping his face to keep his lips on yours. You’ve never felt this desperate before, but there was something about Mingi; you just needed him so badly. You felt his length prod at your entrance. Mingi kissed your cheek softly, then pushed in.

The moan you let out was embarrassingly loud, but you didn’t have enough care in the world to dwell on that. Mingi’s jaw went slack; the feeling of your warm pussy enveloping him was almost enough to make him cum. 

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer to hide your face in the crook of his neck. You felt Mingi press soft kisses on your skin, letting you adjust to the feeling of his big dick. Once he felt your body relax, he thrust his hips, his dick rubbing against your slick walls.

Your moans muffled in his neck, and your legs trembled against Mingi’s waist. Mingi let out quiet moans in your ear, sucking and biting marks on your neck.

“Is this what you wanted, baby? You wanted to feel my dick pound in you.”

"Yes, baby,” you whine. 

You moan at his words; the feeling of his hard cock thrusting in and out of you made your head reel. You both held each other closely, and you could feel his warm breath on your skin; it all felt so intimate. 

“You’re pussy is so good; you’re so warm.”

“Mingi, I love your dick; please don’t stop fucking me.”

You felt his dick twitch inside you at your praise. He pulled away, adjusting himself so he could kneel in front of you. His hands gripped your hips tightly, and he plowed in you even harder and faster. 

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, your jaw going slack as silent moans escaped your lips. He moaned at your expression, biting his lip and grunting loud. 

“Look at you, baby; you look like you’re enjoying yourself,” he chuckled breathlessly. 

You reached forward, gripping Mingi’s flexing thigh; you needed to grasp onto something to ground yourself. Your moans grew high-pitched as you clenched around his length. You felt your release approaching quickly; words struggled to form from the way Mingi was fucking you so good.

Mingi threw his head back, moaning; the clenching of your pussy made his stomach churn. 

“So tight,” he whimpered. 

“I’m going…to cum,” you managed to let out. 

Mingi let a wad of spit drip down onto your clit, taking his thumb and gently rubbing the nub in circles while he fucked you. You watched in awe, feeling a pang of desire at the sight. You arched your back, and the way your tits bounced in your bra was too enticing. 

Mingi reached up to push the padding of your bra to the side, letting your breast spill out. Your nipple was now exposed to him, and he leaned down to take it in his mouth. You gasp, holding his head in place as you grind down on his dick. 

“Cum for me, baby, please; cum on my dick, I’m so close.”

That was all you needed to reach your peak. Your moans got stuck in your throat, head throwing back against the pillow as your orgasm coursed through you. Mingi panted heavily, letting out beautiful sounds as he tried so hard not to cum in you.

Mingi’s hips stuttered, pulling out quickly to stroke his dick. It didn’t take long for him to cum for the second time that night. It landed all over your stomach. You lay there, breath heaving, feeling Mingi’s warm seed land on your skin. He caressed your thigh soothingly, moaning softly as he came down from his high.

He plopped down on the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms as he panted against your neck. You both laid there for a moment, trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened. The silence was broken when Mingi let out a small laugh, pulling his head up to look at your face. 

“Didn’t expect our hangout to lead to this... I’m not complaining though.” 

He smiled, cupping your face to stroke your cheek. You covered your face in your arms, reality hitting you like a bus. You laughed, your face erupting in a red tint. 

“Holy fuck Mingi, that was…”

Mingi slowly pulled your arms down, wanting to see your expression. He smiled wide when he saw the blush on your cheeks; he couldn’t help but plant a kiss on your burning flesh.

“Amazing?” He asked, almost hopefully. 

You turned your body to face him, cupping his face; your voice came out softer than intended when you spoke. 

“Yes, it was amazing.” 

Mingi pulled you in to kiss you softly on the lips. You didn’t know what this meant for your friendship, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment with that thought. All you wanted right now was to enjoy his affection, basting in each other’s warmth. 

“You’re sending me that video, by the way.” 

He laughs at your request, nodding in agreement and pulling you in so you could lay on his body. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll be getting a first preview of all the videos I post from now on.” 

~

a/n: Wow this fic took longer than it needed to. I hope you guys enjoy my first official story. I got many great requests for future stories, so keep an eye out for that ;). If you guys possibly want a small part 2 for this one let me know!

update: part 2 posted here ;)

[tojisun]

the hand that feeds you

— “i take care of her, s’all.”

johnny mactavish x f!reader

cw: 18+ work - minors dni; age difference; daddy issues (kinda the central plot); cooking as a love language; slow burn but in high speed; a breath of angst; power imbalance; canon divergence - regular/non-military life au // amazing divider by @gildui! // 6.5k words

extra notes: this is a very self-indulgent work. there are holes in the plot, 100%, so ignore those holes pretty pls </3 also ik this is more of a captain johnny-verse but midway through, i started projecting so i might’ve written him incorrectly and im really sorry for that!!

being roommates with johnny is not as weird as it is; he’s amicable, at first, then full blown nice when days passed. he’s not loud, per se, but there’s always a constant chatter streaming from his space, like he physically can’t sit still through the silence which is great because you don’t fare any better with the stillness too, so reminiscent of how it was in the suburbs.

you moved to a neighbourhood just skirting past the inner city just because it’s a lot cheaper. but even then, rent was always high and your little box in a rundown complex wasn’t going to sustain you forever even if you wished it would. then, an opening in johnny’s townhouse was posted, almost half-price than whatever is up in the market, and it’s great despite your skepticism. hell, it’s more than great — it’s lifesaving.

your shitty job at the bookstore really can’t cover much of your expenses anymore, and sure student loans and the grant is great, but the growing debt makes you wince so it’s whatever at this point. you’re about to graduate soon anyway, pooling work experience from volunteering and club organizations, and it’s not like you can even go back to how it was.

(underway to law school, primed up before your father’s scrutiny but the burnout got to you before you could even write the LNAT. you realized that being a barrister wasn’t really what you wanted so you changed programs, midway, and switched to children’s education.

god, the disappointment in your pa’s eyes was so big, you knew to pack your shit before he could even kick you out.)

it’s… tough.

god, is it tough. none of your old friends and colleagues could stay in contact, which you don’t hold against them because most of them, by now, have graduated and entered law school. you’re straggling about two years back because of the switch in programs, and everything’s gone too tight. your budget. your social life.

your dating life.

johnny often distracts you from it all — he works in downtown, in one of those high-rise buildings often reserved for limiteds or holding companies, and has to travel off the city every three months. he makes good money, he said jovially, and you know it’s a nudge as to why your portion of the rent is cheap in the first place.

when you finally bit the bullet and asked why he put up one of the rooms in the market, johnny just shrugged and said he needed someone to house sit but sort off permanently. said something like last time he left, the pipes bursted and he couldn’t really fly back to help with the repairs.

it’s great being with him. he’s bright and bubbly, but also dependable in ways you never really thought about. like—

well, it’s all mundane things so listing them feels embarrassing, and it makes you feel as though you’re a touch-starved damsel and johnny just so happened to be the next older man to give you any attention and his time. but you can’t help it. god, you can’t help preen at the way he exists beside you.

he’s just so… beautiful, is what it is.

rugged and charming and loud and filling. the townhouse is too big for the two of you, but johnny makes it work. makes it feel like the two of you just fit into each other’s spaces.

early mornings are spent with him lilting between english and scottish, his exhaustion plastered onto him even after he’s downed two cups of coffee. he bumps his hip onto yours when he ambles out to prepare for his work, grumbling something like good morning and how’re you. afternoons are more lively and productive; it’s of you coming back from campus at six in the evening only to find him in the kitchen, fixing up dinner. it’s always something fancy and rich in flavour; something he always eats with wine on the side.

you, uh, you never thought he could actually cook, let alone feed himself well, but there he was, always a plate ready for you too like it’s expected that you’ll eat dinner with him. like spending time with him was just natural — the sky is blue, the ocean’s deep, and you and johnny fall into each other like there is an invisible string pulling you close to him.

it’s a beautiful change of pace, and there are more days now when you can breathe in a little easier, and you know it’s all because of johnny. it’s all him who pulled you out of your slump and out of that darkness and gave you the room, literally, to grow.

he’s beautiful, but you’ve said that already, haven’t you? he’s just… so good to be with.

then, johnny began picking up and bringing some home.

.

the first time it happened was shocking, really.

you had an early morning, something that’s so murky now in your memories so you’re unsure if it was anything uni related or work related, just that it was five in the morning and you were clambering downstairs as quietly as you could. you rounded the length of the hallway from the platform to the kitchen when you ran into someone.

“steady,” she’d said, voice hoarse and loud in her shock too.

you yelled, jumping, arms swinging because was there an intruder, and it took johnny physically subduing you for you to calm down. looking back now, you burn in embarrassment, but then you had been so worried, your body wound up so tightly in your fear.

“shh,” johnny had murmured with that wry grin. “s’just me, lass.”

your eyes danced between him and the brunette — pretty even in her rumpled shirt, with long legs and a small waist — trying to understand what was going on. you are sure johnny had told you before that he wasn’t seeing anyone so who—

“your girlfriend?” she asked johnny, turning to him with her lips pursed and her brow cocked up.

the question settled in your stomach, doing wonders to your already-fragile psyche. you’d just spent hours thinking about johnny and what he meant to you; what living with him meant. how it eased up something carved within the trenches of your being, like you’d always been waiting for someone like him.

the question was a reminder, like prickling you with icicles, leaving you to navigate the swoop. but johnny had laughed, nothing mean but so dismissive that you felt the curl of shame brandishing from the base of your spine like johnny was laughing at you.

“oh, nah,” he replied, arm still slung over your shoulders. “she’s sorta my ward, yes? i take care of her, s’all.”

that’s all. you’re nothing more to him but a ward. a tenant. not even a friend—

she hummed, then leaned over to kiss johnny, her eyes still drawn to you like she’s watching, waiting for a reaction, and when she got none, she trudged to the door. you and johnny watched as she bent down to slip in her shoes, some stilettos with red bottoms, before wordlessly disappearing into the darkened morning.

“pretty,” you chirped, trying to break the tension of whatever that was.

johnny laughed in that way that surely crinkled his eyes, only to steer the conversation away by asking why you were up early. you remembered what you had to do and you dived to the kitchen in a flurry, chatting about the deadlines and due dates — so it was a school thing — and johnny just watched, silent, humming, eyes still curved in his glee.

you left no sooner than his… paramour did and, for a while, that was that.

but your semester is coming to a close and your schedule is changing, but so is johnny’s. he’s coming home later and later, but always seemed to offer apologies in the form of easy-to-microwave meals for your dinner. they’re still homemade, probably cooked up in the morning before he left for work, and you’d messaged him to say that he didn’t need to worry about you. that, sure, you came to him amidst financial struggle, juggling work and school, and trying to decide if you would have to starve this month because of rent, but you can cook. for yourself and for him too.

johnny’s face did a terrible thing when you mentioned that in person, the first in a while after things got hectic.

“what,” you bit out, embarrassed.

“nothing,” he said, blinking like he was realizing things he shouldn’t. “s’fun doing things f’r you.”

then he clamped up, spooning soup into his mouth, some of it messily dribbling into his chin. it’s not like you were doing any better, with how your throat closed up at his words, eyes going wide.

it’s been a thing, is what it is, but neither of you two have ever acknowledged that it’s a thing. it’s been a wordless experience — of johnny taking over things when it comes to the house because of course he will, it’s his home, but he always covers things for you too. things you’re sure normal landlords don’t really worry about, but not johnny.

there’s always extra food in the kitchen, extra blankets when the weather dips. there’s even a new cooling machine for the summer even though you know johnny’s room already has an installed air conditioning. he’s even changed the seats in the dining room because he caught you once hitting your hip after an all-nighter on a project.

then, he refurbished the den to make it your office.

“you didn’t have to,” you told him, mind racing at your savings, wondering if he was going to increase your rent.

johnny just shook his head with an almost fond roll of his eyes and clapped your back, arm hovering there. “s’all yers, hen.”

everything he did always accounted for you. so why the women?

they’re all long limbed and trimmed waist, with eyes that sparkled even when all you’ve seen of them is always within the poorly-lit hallway. they have voices that curl teasingly, breathy like they’re enticing johnny for one more night. and they’ve always, always, treated you like a—

like a kid.

a burden, almost, of johnny’s.

and, hell, maybe you are. johnny’s almost twice your age; he’s also already well-established in his career, some senior position that you can’t really follow but one he talks about with fondness. he’s got land rover-money, the car in his garage big and black and almost military grade, and it looks so expensive especially beside the crappy civic you were able to snag for a cheap price because it’s got about three-hundred-thousand mileage already.

you’ve got nothing to give him, other than the lousy rent payment that he doesn’t even really need but is just asking for courtesy because it’d be so weird for him to offer a room, or two now given you have the den too, for free. you’ve got nothing on your name, and if it isn’t pity that makes johnny care for you, then you don’t know what.

maybe his string of one-night stands are right — you are just a kid.

that maybe you really are still too wet behind the ears for the real world that you go running to the next person that could protect you from it, stumbling into his life and licking up every drop of his attention, mistaking his kindness for devotion. his care for love.

.

you should have known, then, that the thoughts would ripple, leaving you to feel like the days are unnavigable. obsession quickly took root, growing fangs, and it ensnared you; a vice noose at what had been a pleasant coexistence.

hell, you can barely stand being with johnny because of the jealousy. it’s a shameful thing, but a part of you thinks you deserve johnny more than the others do.

you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s nightmares and the horrors that spill from his lips when it’s twelve in the morning and the two of you have hit the bourbon. you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s aversion to the windows in the living room; that the reason why the curtains are a deep green is not to match the new plants he’s allowed you to fill up his home but because they shroud the panels more than the cream ones had. you tell yourself that nobody knows that johnny can sing; that he can cook a mean tomahawk; that he likes reading; that his wrists were hurting so he’s currently scheduled for a surgery; that he’s soft to you.

the women don’t know this johnny, you tell yourself, nails clawing at the hems of your chest. they don’t know him the way i do.

it’s a pathetic whisper. it’s so laughable. so juvenile.

they’re right. they’re right.

(you’re just a—)

“i don’t see you anymore,” johnny murmured one morning, when things have gone quiet again, a cup of coffee sitting on the counter while he watches you throw orange peels into the garburator.

he just got back from a work trip in aberdeen, his exhaustion loud on his face. his hair is overgrown, the bottom ends of his mohawk curling along his nape. he was there for over three weeks, skirting almost close to a month — the longest he’s ever been away — and you had tried so hard not to message. not to drop casual check-ins because you’re sure no tenant ever does that to their landlord, but johnny had remained just as friendly; asking things like if you wanted another potted plant, a monstera or a dragon tree, or if you still had that swiss chocolate he brought home as a gift, or—

the list of his questions grew, but you’ve given him clipped replies, not knowing how to act right anymore since your quiet realization. even the “thing” that you thought you shared with him had fizzled at the drop of the women coming-and-leaving, and you are left to pick up the pieces.

it’s not like you’re broken or ruined or angry. god, no you aren’t.

but you feel unsteady, like now that you know that you liked him more than he liked you, you forgot how to breathe. how to live without that looming burden because your affection is nothing but a burden.

what will johnny do if he finds out? you can’t afford a new place to move into, not when you’re so close to graduating, the finish line just about to graze your very fingertips with how near it is. money is still tight, and johnny has already spoiled you rotten. has shown you how it is to live a comfortable life. and if he learns of your feelings, you would lose this. more than anything, you would lose him.

so you detached yourself from the noose, curling into yourself and using his work trip as a way to move on.

jesus — move on, huh? like there was a ‘you and johnny’ to even move on from. like there was anything there to read. like there was anything there to pull away from; twitching fingers drawing back into the spaces of your ribs, tucking yourself away from his warmth.

“i’ve been so busy, john,” you muttered, just as tired.

“yeah?” he said, still light. still jovial. “let me cook something nice for ye, huh? reward yer hard work and all.”

“i can’t.” you swallowed down the prickle lodged in your throat, eyes ducking away to avoid seeing his. “i’ve got a meeting with the club.”

(you missed the way johnny’s smile dipped.)

“oh,” he said.

you shrugged, internally wincing at your weak attempt at being normal, before gathering your thermos and your messily-wrapped sandwich. johnny was still standing by the counters when you turned around from the sink, his bulk so close to yours in ages. it had been so long since you could just reach over and feel his warmth; feel the soft pudge of what once were hardened muscles.

he’s looking at you with such sad eyes that it’s jarring to truly see because he’s looking at you like—

like he’s losing you.

“i’m gonna…” you trailed off, not really knowing how to end this truly awkward interaction.

“yeah, f’course,” he croaked out. “take care of yerself huh, lass?”

“thanks.” the smile on your face felt more like a grimace. “see you.”

he said nothing more after that, his eyes still searching; still furrowed like something’s changed and something’s happening, and it made your stomach drop because please. please don’t let him notice.

but johnny just watched as you went, his coffee all forgotten.

(something bloomed in the soft press of your heart, flickering like a young ember. you’ve never realized how longing could feel like your mouth is stuffed with cotton.)

.

johnny hasn't picked up since his return from aberdeen.

they’re getting a new firm so the shuffling has been brutal, leaving johnny to clamber out at five in the morning before coming back home when it’s pushing 11pm. the scruff on his face is becoming more unkempt, salt and pepper becoming more intense, but even then, he’s never looked more ruggedly beautiful as he is now.

it’s like he’s aged years and you shouldn’t be reacting so strongly to the change, but looking at johnny now makes you ache in a different way — core throbbing, throat parched and eyes stinging as you watch him. you’re so drawn to his gravitational pull, unable to detangle yourself now that it feels like he’s more back in your life than he ever was.

and you know it’ll end up hurting you. that you’ll go back to isolating yourself at the drop of a new girl in the house, the smell of her chanel or bvlgari perfume filling up the crevices that you’ve dutifully dusted every saturday morning while johnny’s out for a run. he’s made having casual lovers a cycle, one that you cannot blame him for because johnny doesn’t like you back.

but johnny’s been so attentive to you these days. he’s been a hovering presence even when he looks like he’s one blown wind away from passing out in his exhaustion, his warm hand always on the small of your back as he walks you to the door before chirping a hearty, “kick ass, bon!”

he’s back to fixing up food for you, like that blip in your schedule got him all creative because now, it’s not even just dinner. you’ve got breakfast waiting for you in the microwave, and packed lunch already in your bag, carefully tucked beside the manila folders and plastic envelopes for your capstone. it’s like he’s making up for something which is dumb and wrong because now, you’re all swooping stomach and prickling lungs.

“yummy?” johnny asked, catching you wriggling in excitement at the flavour bursting into your tongue.

your cheeks tingled, feverish, before giving him a shy nod.

he huffed, something so achingly fond, and rested his chin atop his crossed arms. you didn’t know what to focus on — the scruff on his face or the hard lines of webbing veins spilling from beneath his folded sleeves. then, he crooned, “good. that’s good.”

you ran upstairs to your room, throwing an excuse about finishing up your paper, before locking the door, and feeding your cunt two fingers to satiate the burn. the stretch was delicious, raw and sweet, and you humped your wrist, trying to douse the flames burning you up.

you thought of johnny, of the way he looked and how much nicer he’s been; of johnny and the way he was so kind to you, so caring like you’re up in his priority list again, overtaking his busy schedule and the firm restructuring, and his needs.

your orgasm felt like a ripping of reality, your mind splintering at the edges as you’re stretched thin. it felt like you’ve been pulled taut, then released with a resounding snap. it felt euphoric, like the explosion of something intoxicating. something wickedly addicting.

you knew that this could never be unmade. your affections had grown their tendrils, curling past the quiet admiration and spiralling into something unforgiving. into something greater than yourself.

“fuck,” you had rasped out, eyes prickling with tears as shame rushed into your chest. “fuck.”

you didn’t need this. you didn’t need any of this.

but it becomes a cycle — wash, rinse, repeat.

johnny continues to go unshaven; continues to pour his attention to you. and you soak it up, needy and soft, unable to turn away with your tail tucked between your legs. you fall back to the ease of how it had been, hip bumping his, morning coffee shared in the silence, dinner a filling affair once more. all that’s changed are the lingering looks, the resonating touches.

how johnny’s wide hand falls to the small of your back more often; how his fingers just slots against yours every time he passes you your cup; how his eyes rove over your face, always searching for something you dare not hope for.

the last time he flicked his eyes down to watch the way your tongue lapped at your lips, swiping away at the extra cream, johnny’s pupils had constricted before a quiet groan rumbled from his throat. your thighs had quickly clenched close as heat exploded in the pit of your belly, spreading like wildfire through your veins. the pressure on your nub made you hiccup, like a whine dragging itself from your trachea, and johnny had snapped his eyes back to yours so quickly, it made you heady.

“bon–”

“i have to go,” you murmured, clamouring to shaky legs.

you fucked yourself to a deafening point once more, ears ringing as you squirted, the gush of your slick pushing past your fingers. you had to gnash your pillow cover to muffle the moan rumbling from the base of your throat, trying desperately to be good. to not be heard. to be better.

but johnny’s burning gaze on your lips was seared into your memory, blazing on top of everything, and you imagined—

god, you imagined.

the way he’ll take you — beard rough on your chin, thicker fingers spreading you wider, reaching deeper, before finally filling you up with all of him, bullying the whole length of his cock until he bottoms out.

you pressed on your stomach, dizzy, thinking about how johnny would hit that far. you know he would. the women he’s slept with have told you, anyway, in passing, describing how he was in bed with dreamy sighs like they weren’t still reeking of sex and johnny’s aftershave.

(you still wonder why so many of them were mean, their noses tipped up every time they saw you. they were the ones that johnny chose, the ones who were fortunate enough to have been his lover, so you wonder why they still sought you out like you were competition.)

“johnnyyyy!” you moaned, loud and long, your fingers prodding at your walls, and you knew that you’d regret the wrangled cry later, but you didn’t care then, too busy swimming in the aftermath of your orgasm.

.

but johnny heard it anyway.

he told you that he had heard you. 

it happened so quickly — one moment you were bent over the espresso machine, fiddling with the levers with bleary-eyed attempts, then the next thing you knew was that johnny was crowding you, trapping you between the warm bulk of his body and the counter, his eyes furrowed so deeply which made the lines on his forehead run much deeper.

“whu’?” you asked, blinking tiredly at him.

johnny just did this shaky breath that rattled his whole body, like he was propped up by a couple of sticks instead of his whole mass. the mood shifted with that weak inhale though, and you turned to fully face him, ignoring the beeping machine because johnny was still looking at you with those eyes.

the ones that made you feel seen, read, and laid bare before him. like he could weave his eyes past the fabrics of your shirt to peek into the very jagged shards of your heart and see the cross that you’ve been carrying. like he knew things about you that he shouldn’t.

“johnny?” you prodded again, finding his silence alarming.

“yer too young for me, m’eudail,” johnny finally rumbled out, voice thick and deep.

and it’s—

what.

your mind was pressing into your skull, trying desperately to link your synapses together; for the fog to clear and for your coherence to rise above the pull of drowsiness, but johnny was faster. like now that he’s said the first words, the rest just follow, unstoppable in their force and in their meaning.

“i told myself i couldn’t,” he murmured, still breathing shakily; gaze still too fragile. “that yer lookin’ for nothin’ like me, and that yer just tryin’ to get out there with yer career.”

he lifted a hand, fingers twitching, before balling it back down to a fist.

“told myself i’ve gotta let go. found a way to cope and shit.”

johnny took another ragged breath in, and it startled you into gulping one of your own — you didn’t even realize that you’ve held your breath as he spoke to you, your chest clenching tightly as your mind began to link the passageways together, filling you in on what he wasn’t really saying.

“but carin’ f’you was so easy. christ, it was even delightful, hen.” he chuckled, something that was somewhat raw and pained.

you licked at your lips, blinking wide eyes open. johnny tracked the movement, his nose flaring like you’ve done something more than a subconscious thing, his shoulders going taut.

“i like doing all sorta things for you. liked seeing y’eat what i cooked; liked seeing y’use what i got f’you. liked watching y’come home to me. to me.”

a soft sound echoed between the two of you, and it took you an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was a breathless whimper that petered out from the base of your throat. you didn’t even realize that you’ve curled into yourself, almost like you’re trying your best to shrink before johnny, and johnny crooned.

callused palm cupped the round of your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye. “told myself yer too young; that surely yer looking for someone closer to yer age, but bon, i heard y’last night.”

you startled in his hold, a quiet gasp piercing through the heat. johnny’s lips danced with mirth.

“s’right. heard a loud thump against the wall and ran upstairs, all worried, but guess my surprise, yes? y’were moanin’ my name so loudly, it’s like y’left yer door open.”

“johnny, i–”

“tell me,” he said, moving closer, his chest pressing against yours. “tell me t’stop, bon, an’ i will. but y’ve got to tell me. y’ve got to push me away.”

you looked at him, your eyes trembling at what he was laying out thickly, and your throat going parched at the blanketing desire rippling from him. there were so many things you wanted to ask, but his breath was tickling the bridge of your nose, dancing so close to the bow of your lips, and your heart ached.

desire coursed through you in waves, dribbling from the cup, and you lurched forward, chasing after his lips.

johnny melted into you. his hesitant touch turned greedier, more possessive, mapping your body and pulling you closer into him. his mouth devoured your own, gulping down the pleased little sighs and keens spilling from your lips. he kissed like a man starved, but you weren’t any softer; all nippy and desperate, fingers digging into his hair and fisting at the thin strands.

it was feverish, almost to a boiling point, and you needed more.

god, you needed more.

“johnny,” you mewled when he pulled away just enough to slide his damp lips along the cut of your jaw. “johnny, need you.”

“christ,” johnny sounded so wrecked, his voice rumbling deeply from where his lips were suckling on the soft curve of your neck. “i’ve been dreaming of this, mo luaidh. i knew i shouldn’t but yer so sweet to me and i– i wanted.” he said that word like it was dirty; like he’d been fighting tooth-and-nail to suppress it.

it made you tremble to hear how johnny desired you just as much. he had always felt unobtainable; always danced too far from your grasp and was always bigger than what you knew you could handle — his lovers had always looked divinely; pretty, yes, but fierce in their own right like they knew how to live without johnny; and you know they could, because they didn’t need johnny the way you do. they didn’t look at johnny like you do, like he hung the stars with those thick and aged hands of his.

but as you stood there, feeling every word punctured onto your skin, you couldn’t help but begin to cry, the tears springing from your eyes to slip down your cheeks. johnny rubbed your back, soothing and gentle. 

“i wanted t’take you – make y’all mine,” he whispered. 

you hiccuped, shaky from the weight of your hunger, and nuzzled close. your hands fell from fisting his hair so you could claw at the sharp corners of his shoulder blades, feeling the muscles there rippling, all taut when he bent forward and kissed you.

“please,” you began, feeling your mind thinning because you wanted more. more. more. more. “i can be– johnny, s’always been you. nobody else but you.”

you tugged him away, cupping his jaw and forcing him to look at you. and god, johnny looked so devastatingly beautiful, his eyes all furrowed and his cheeks all flushed, and his lips spit-sheened.

“fuck me,” you whispered, tired of dancing around.

he groaned, something that sounded so pained, before he was tugging you with him, up the stairs and skirting past your room and into his. 

you’ve never been in johnny’s room before, just as he had never been in yours since you moved in, and until now you still don’t know what you had been expecting upon walking in, but the smell of johnny wafting through was almost gut-punching. he smelled so close, like he was everywhere — surrounding you from the ground-up, dousing every pore with him until even your mouth felt full.

and johnny, he smelt like home. 

there were no more words uttered as he stripped you off your pyjamas, sure fingers making their way down the buttons, unlatching them from the hemmed slits. you watched with heavy eyes, blinking slowly like everything had been wrung out of you, leaving you pliant and soft. johnny hummed, appreciative, and mapped kisses from your heaving chest, teeth nipping at the fat, before moving on, sprinkling every expanse of your skin with such reverence. 

your hands were balled to your chest when he reached the jut of your belly, his chin hovering just above your crotch. johnny flicked up his darkened eyes at you, asking silently.

you gave him a nod, not trusting your own voice too.

johnny’s eyes had turned into slits, pleased, and hefted himself up just enough to be able to fit his hands on your hips and tugged your pants down. you shivered, the warmth in his room not enough to suppress the winter chill, and it made you buck into him. johnny comforted you with a quiet shh, rubbing his palm on the pudge of your thigh in soothing circles.

you don’t know why that touch was what did it for you, but soft sobs finally spilled from your mouth, scrunching up the desire into something undeniably frail. johnny didn’t startle though, like he knew that you had been wounding up to this tipping point, and instead continued to touch you tenderly, almost like if he could, he would cradle you close. 

“i love you,” you said, sniffling, because that was the crux of your vulnerability, right?

you love him. god, you love him. 

you’ve loved him since the day he sat you down for dinner and told you that you’ve got nothing to worry about, not anymore and not with him around. you’ve loved him since the day he flipped the den so you can have your own space for work; don’t mind the fact that he didn’t know if you were going to even stay, just that he insisted that you deserved that room either way. you’ve loved him since that swiss chocolate, since that cup of coffee, since he’s begun filling your painfully lonely days with his care. 

you’ve loved him since and now—

“oh, mo graidh,” johnny breathed out. “i love you too.” he kissed your thigh, scruff ticklish. “gu siorraidh is gu brath.”

you wanted to ask what that meant but johnny was already moving, sitting back up to strip out of his own shirt. you trailed your eyes down his body, capturing your trembling lips between your teeth at how breathtaking he was — soft with fat but still heavy with muscles, fuzzy with hair with the smattering pooling just underneath his belly button before trailing down to where they were hidden underneath his pants. 

you twitched before finally braving enough to reach out and brush your knuckle over the indents of his softened abs. johnny hummed, something that curled with appreciation, before covering your hand with his and holding it there. 

“all of me s’yers, hen,” he said with such finality that you felt it settle deep within the marrows of your bones. 

you nodded, emotionally spent and johnny lilted something else in scottish, so soft that it was almost a croon. you let him manhandle you — pushing your hips up so he could slot a pillow under for your back; you were so malleable to his touch as he took over, bending once again for a kiss while his fingers danced past the laces of your panties and into the damp heat of your pussy. 

you moaned, eyelashes fluttering when he pressed one in, so careful and slow, but you were so wet that it slid in with no resistance, gobbling it up knuckle-deep. johnny had groaned like he could feel your rising euphoria, before nosing along your temple as he wiggled the finger around, stroking at your walls. you wondered if he was going to tease but then he was pulling it out, only to plunge two in the next thrust, curling and stretching, and oh—

oh, ssss’good.

you don’t even remember how long he’d been spearing you with his thicker fingers, rough and long and reaching far, far deeper than you could with your own, but you laid there, sobbing, feeling your slick slip out, pooling, making a mess of your thighs and his sheets. johnny had moved from suckling on your neck to taking a nipple in his mouth, teeth softly gnashing at the bud. you felt like you were on fire, burning from your core, aching for a release. 

“cum f’me, m’eudail,” johnny groaned, breathless himself, his cock poking underneath his boxers, the fabric all wet from where his tip was, leaking pearled pre-. “let me see you.”

“johnny, i’m gonna– i’m–!” you squealed, legs jumping, squeezing johnny’s sides as you jolted, hips twitching at the bloating ecstasy. johnny just pushed down on your thigh, not letting up with the pace of his fingers. he was fucking you so hard that his hand’s slapping against your skin, his palm grinding down on your clit just right, and the pleasure sizzled into something biting. into something that was almost painful.

it was catastrophic, pulling you into two directions. johnny’s everywhere — his scent in your lungs, his fingers deep in your pussy, his mouth hot and wet on your tits, and like this, like this, you felt yourself breaking. 

ripping—

then, your orgasm was punched out of you. 

your senses had gone awry — throat throbbing as you cried out, your eyes going blind as they rolled into your skull at the final curl of johnny’s fingers. white noise filled your ears, and it was like you were submerged underneath water, wading through the crashing tides of your climax.

you came back to johnny peppering your face with soft kisses, whispering something you couldn’t decipher past the croon of your name and something like you did good and so beautiful. he’d already pulled his fingers out, and used both arms to cradle you close. you felt so empty — god, that wasn’t even his cock, yet — but your body thrummed pleasantly, almost like the itch was finally scratched. 

“johnny?” you puffed out, voice all scratchy and weak. 

“i’m here, bon. i’m here.”

you hummed, curling into his chest, head pillowed by his arm. you wanted to ask what about his own euphoria, but johnny seemed so content just laying there with you, not really desperate or needy, so you let it go, losing the battle against your drowsiness before finally slipping into a quiet sleep. 

.

johnny’s there for your graduation, carrying a big bouquet of only eden roses. you didn’t even know that those particular ones were expensive until someone from the graduation party oohed and aahed to their friend. 

your cheeks burned when their friend chirped, “well someone’s clearly loved.”

you know that what they said would have had johnny agreeing loudly if he was allowed in the lineup because he is never one to be shy about what he feels; or not anymore, anyway. he loves so fully and openly that you still wonder why it took the two of you so long to get together, but the days since then had just been kind and filling that you have long forgotten how it was to not be with him. 

they’re going to call your name soon, and your stomach swoops, excitement and anxiety mixing in a dizzying tandem. 

you’re graduating with a bachelor’s degree in psychology and a diploma in early childhood education, and this is not where you thought you would be when you first started university, but it’s the happiest you have ever been. and sure much of your poli-sci courses were scrapped when you changed majors, and that’s also a lot of money wasted, but you have three job opportunities lined up already and it’s like the seismic shift in your life had finally corrected itself. 

(your mom said she’s sorry that she and your pa couldn’t come, but you’ve stopped longing for their acceptance and told her it was fine.

there’s a date saved in your calendar, though, for a brunch with her and that was enough.)

you ducked into johnny’s arms when the graduation ceremony ended, careful of the bouquet he’s holding. 

“congratulations, bonnie,” he says, a hearty laugh rumbling from his chest. “christ, i’m so, so proud of you.”

you never pegged yourself for a crybaby, but tears begin to pool in the corners of your eyes at the weight of his words. 

“thank you,” you reply, soft and raw, and honest. 

johnny pulls you in, his lips warm as they’re pressed on your forehead. 

and this, just like this, you know things will only get better from here on out. 

[insertdisc5]

TIMELOOP GAMES REAL!??!??!!

hi i made a timeloop game called In Stars and Time and this is a whole post about other timeloop games you can also play.

some i liked. some i loved. some i didnt like. all are worth playing and like also listen the second friends and family heard i was making a timeloop game, i got bombarded with timeloop media recs. so here is a sampler in no particular order! NOTE: knowing some of those games are timeloop games is a spoiler. but. you are here. for timeloop games. so timeloop games you shall have

Outer Wilds

If you need to play one timeloop game, it's this one. Please play it blind. I swear to god you won't regret it. it's timeloops in space!!! it makes you think!!! there are so many "HOLY SHIT WAIT I GET IT NOW" moments!!! please just go play it please please please. some of the best environmental storytelling in a game. so many hints in plain sight. JUST PLAY IT

[way more timeloop games under the cut]

Oxenfree

I didn't actually like Oxenfree very much. But also it stayed in my mind for weeks after I finished playing it. that's how you know it's a good game. I really enjoyed the dialogue system in this, and how much the loop affected the characters. and it got so spooky!!!

Hikeback

i'm in the credits for this one because i was one of the inspirations heehee <3 i loved playing it… short little game about trust, self-sabotage, and never-ending cycles. highly recommend it

The Stanley Parable

Listen babes it absolutely counts. I replayed it a bunch while making ISAT, and I got immensely inspired by the dialogue, and how it catches you off guard sometimes? You get SO SO used to the narrator's "All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean?" at the start of every game, and then for no reason instead it says "A soft wind blew outside and perhaps rain started, and if it did it stopped shortly after. Stanley hoped that he would one day see weather." like WHAT THE FUUUUCK IM GETTING CHILLS JUST THINKING ABOUT IT

12 minutes

ok i know we all made fun of this game when it came out because the story is batshit insane HOWEVER!!!!!!!! i REALLY REALLY LOVED how doing the same actions multiple times would have slightly different outcomes. If you battle someone, the first time you get knocked out in one hit and the loop restarts. the second time you try, you evade the first hit, but get knocked out. the third time, you last a little bit longer, and a little bit longer, until you can pretty much hold your own against your enemy. And it applies to so many things in this. Retrying different things to see how they would change was a delight.

this game is also so bad its almost good, and if you're interested you HAVE to play it with friends so you can yell about how bad it is together.

Zero Escape

it's just a good series ok. escape rooms, and also time loops! the 3rd game in particular goes deep into The Math of how timeloops would work, which i think is interesting. sometimes timeloop games just go "yeah you can timeloop dont worry about it" and others go "OK HERE'S THE HOW AND WHY IT WORKS" and both are interesting!

START AGAIN: a prologue

this game has almost everything i could wish for in a timeloop game. depression. lines repeating. dying brings you back. you get new levels and skills because you're aware of the loops but your party members don't. so you get overpowered next to them and they Notice. just. party members who dont know about the loops still noticing something is wrong. you are acting differently than yesterday. you look sad. you are acting weird. you know too much. how did you know where the keys were? how did you know this would happen? what's wrong? talk to us. and oh my god this game has a sequel? which will probably have Actually Everything i could wish for in a timeloop game? i can't wait. who made this? (its me i made this)

Ghost Trick

ok its not really time loops and more time travel and only for 4 minutes HOWEVER!!!! you should play it. you know you should play it because everyone says so. so go play it

Elsinore

im sure its a great game but ive never seen/read hamlet. so thats a failing on my part. because. you absolutely need to know hamlet to understand this game lol i did like the whole "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop"! very fun. or it would be. if i. knew. hamlet

The Forgotten City

a friend kept recommending it to me and i didn't like it. its good! just not for me. but if you like to think a lot you should play it. another "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop" game

Gnosia

Gonna be real. I didn't like the story very much, in part because the game lets you choose your gender but still acts like youre a straight dude. HOWEVER the gameplay was very inspiring to me. Every loop is pretty much just an among us meeting, and you have to find out who the imposters are or everyone dies and you loop again. and sometimes you ARE the imposter, so you need to make sure no one finds out. or you loop again. rules get added as time goes on too. i REALLY loved how quickly the loops stacked up. seeing "loop 100" was such a nice moment. ive been here so long! i tried to recreate that somewhat for my own game…

Loop Hero

Technically not a timeloop game, but a loop game. It still absolutely counts because it's about loops and memories, and what are loops and memories together if not a timeloop. You have your little guy going through a closed loop, battling enemies, getting cards, and making the world whole again by using those cards to make forests, towns, lakes come to life. I am famously a Story First Gameplay Second kinda player, but I did play this 45h for the gameplay alone. I learned a lot about battle balancing and randomness by playing this!

You and Me and Her: A Love Story

you know doki doki litterature club? this came before. and one might say. it's. better. in some parts (and i say that as someone who LOVED ddlc!) i won't say much except it's a dating sim but with timeloops. with a lot of what it implies. why are you dating this girl a second time? a third time? a fourth time? choose another one already! it was such a fascinating game to play, and is incredibly meta in the way it talks about dating sims and visual novels. had a lot of very impactful moments however, i played the hentai version. some of the worst, most cringy sex ive ever read and heard. however, one might say the sex is an integral part of the game and its deconstruction of hentai/dating sims…? no. just play the steam version which doesnt have the horrible sex scenes and you will have a great time i think (or play the hentai version. if you like. to watch. horrible sex scenes???)

Higurashi

knowing this is a timeloop game is a massive spoiler. however, this game is more than a decade old, so,,, honestly if you havent played higurashi what are you doing. i know i just spoiled you on it but i was also spoiled on it and i can GUARANTEE YOU that you will still have an amazing time. one more thing. you gotta play with the original sprites or you're a fake fan

I Was a Teenage Exocolonist

starts as a visual novel/management sim/dating sim kinda thing, until you realize that every replay is a new timeline. so the main character can save people, because they remembered about them dying in a previous one. i wish the timeloop would affect the game/story more (let me find a certain character quicker once ive found them in a previous playthrough!!!), but timeloop aside, it's a very fun game to play!!!

that's it! hope you will find a nice timeloop game you like

[coffeebanana]

i headcanon that gabe and emilie would want to create a sentibaby that's a mix of their own DNA--which, why can't they do that? Dusuu's got to use some sort of genetic material

but what if they wanted to test the possible combinations of their DNA before deciding on their perfect designer baby? what if you're adrien agreste model 1.0? it's a little weird when you come into the world, fully grown, and the first thing you're asked to do is turn around slowly on the spot. there's some lady in a mask and a peacock dress, smiling as you stand there, awaiting judgement. her counterpart, standing behind her, seems uncertain. but you don't think much of that. there's no time to think much of that--not when all of a sudden you're sitting at a desk, with pages of equations written on them. problems you're meant to solve.

somehow, you know you've learned this math somewhere--even if you don't remember when or how. but they keep watching you--scrutinizing every line of your pencil. you finally dare to ask them about it--because it's weird, right? and god, if they could just leave you alone for ten minutes, you could probably finish this easily. but your examiners' lips turn down at your outburst. and you're snapped away before you even manage to look back down at the page

what if you're adrien agreste model 13.6, and everything you do elicits little whoops of joy from the peacock lady? in your several hours of existence, you've spoken five different languages and carried out a slew of endurance, agility, and cognitive tests. and most importantly--although you don't know why your examiners seem to praise you for this--you never talked back once

the peacock lady claps her hands together, and even the man behind her--who you've come to realize isn't nearly as easy to crack--can't seem to stop smiling. and you don't understand why something about that fills you with dread, but it does. it's a sort of all-consuming, impossible to shake dread. but you smile through it anyways

you don't know that once you disappear, a smaller version of you will come forth into the world. or that, years later, you'll feel that same sort of sick feeling in your gut

you're adrien agreste model 13.7, and you don't know there's anything weird about the way you came into this world. you don't realize your mother sometimes misses 6.8's dimples, or that your father often wishes they'd gone with 11.2--who would have had a real head for business

and you never do figure out why something always feels just a little bit wrong

[multi-fandom-imagine]

It'd be really super duper cool if you wrote a fic about Stanley finding lewd and/or suggestive polaroid pictures of reader that their girly friend helped them take as a little present behind his back 👀 maybe he finds them stashed in his wallet... Like, ass/boob shots or close-ups of them in cute poses wearing their undergarments or something? I absolutely adore all the drabbles and fics you've been pumping out lately! I'm OBSESSED!

A/n: *SCREAMING* because I love this and been hoping someone would suggest something like this or the reader and Stan making a porno together 🤭.

Also thank you! That mean's so much!

Turning your back to your friend, you lifted up both of your arms fixing your hair. The only thing you wore were a pair of black lace panties. Your friend snapping the picture getting a cheeky reveal your backside and hips.

The day dragged on as your friended guided you into different poses. From you kneeling on the bed, your head turned slightly away from the camera, lips parted, eyes hooded.

To you sitting on the drawer, with one leg extended down and the other bent to around knee level with your foot resting on the open drawer.

Your fingers were clutching his gold chain, the only other piece of clothing you wore being the lace panties.

And once you were done you could help but give your friend a thank you, that you'll take the rest from their having wanting to take a few more raunchy one's for Stan because those....those would be for his eyes only.

Being the only one in the house, Stan spent most of the day helping Ford get the place ready for Dipper and Mabel. He was so distracted he hadn't realized you were gone. Eye's snapping to the door opening he half expected to see his twin spewing some nonsense, not you holding something behind your back.

"Whatcha got there doll face."

Letting out a soft hum, you smiled as you sat yourself on Stan's lap giving his cheek a kiss while you placed the envelop in his lap. "Just a little gift for you, since you've been over working yourself Stan."

"Is it money?!"

"What!? No! Stan just open it."

Giving you a grin, Stan pinched your hips. "I'm only teasin ya." Though his eyes went wide as he looked over each and every one of the photos. He felt his mouth go dry and the slacks he wore suddenly felt a lot tighter.

You looked like a goddess, you maybe showing of some skin he was having trouble pulling his gaze away as he flipped through the polaroid's he had to shift his body to relieve some of the tension.

He really liked the selfies of yourself the most, the way your tits seemed to be spilling out from the bra he liked so much and god, the look on your face with your hand out of the cameras view.

He knew what you were doing and he wished he could have been there to see it. Quickly brushing the blood from his nose he cleared out his throat.

"Well....what do you think?"

"Bedroom....now."

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

The Sin of Lust - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: You confide in Lucifer about just how unsatisfied your husband, Adam, is leaving you. Lucifer decides to show you a whole new, much more pleasurable side of things, a side that leaves you wanting even more of it.

Contents/Possible Warnings: Cheating (Reader is cheating on Adam w/ Lucifer), Side Adam x Reader, Religious themes, Religious guilt/shame, Cunnilingus, Masturbation, Fingering, P in V sex, cream pie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, SMUT, MDNI, this shit is depraved in a good way 😊

Your favorite spot in the whole of Eden was a small clearing no different from the rest of the garden. It was hidden away just enough that your husband, Adam, didn't know of its existence; making it your little getaway spot. You'd come here often, especially on days like today; days where Adam was more annoying than usual.

It was your duty and sole reason for creation to serve him, and you were trying your best to show thanks to your Lord by fulfilling your purpose, but it was growing harder and harder every day. Adam wasn't a bad person at his core, but he was insufferable in more ways than one. He was arrogant, felt he was better than you simply because he had a dick, and constantly treated you like you were useless unless it came to sex.

Sex with your husband was okay, and that was all it was, just okay. It wasn't horrible, sometimes it felt nice, but Adam always left you unsatisfied; longing for something more that you couldn't identify. That's how it was last night, and that's how you were sure it'd be again today. That's why you retreated to where you were now.

You sat on the soft grass, basking in the comfortable silence that came with the lack of your husband's presence. All days were nice in Eden, but today was even more so; with the sun bathing you in the perfect amount of warmth and the melodic chirping of birds filling the air. You wished it could stay like this forever, but you knew all good things must eventually meet their end.

Sooner than later you'd have to return Adam, knowing that if you were gone too long he'd come looking for you. You were dreading it, to say the least. Maybe you could pretend to be sick tonight? Or maybe you could go to sleep early? Or maybe you—

"Adam's looking for you, y'know."

You turned your head toward the voice, spotting God's most beautiful angel himself: Lucifer. You had hoped you would see him. The Lord's angels weren't supposed to mingle with humans in the way Lucifer had always mingled with you; your meetings had always been a secret that you two kept under lock and key, both of you not wanting to know the outcome of his fellow angels, or your husband, catching you two.

"Lucifer!" You exclaimed happily, looking up at him as he hovered in the air, gorgeous ivory white wings holding him up. You opened your arms, and he came down, warmly embracing you. He tilted your chin up before pressing a loving kiss to your lips; it felt like it had been years since you last kissed him, even though it had merely been days.

"I missed you." He said, affectionately tucking back a stray lock of your hair. "Heaven's not the paradise it's supposed to be without you to be there with me." You smiled at his comment before the words he said earlier finally sunk in.

"Adam's looking for me? Fuck, I've been away too long." This was bad, really bad. You had never been gone long enough for Adam to go searching for you. He was going to ask questions, and you knew you couldn't answer them, at least not honestly.

"Don't worry, I 'helpfully' suggested he go in the opposite direction," Lucifer reassured you with an almost mischievous grin. Relief filled you, he had bought you more than enough time. "Thank you, Luci." You smiled, sitting back down on the grass, patting the spot next to you. Lucifer joined you, holding your hand in his after he had sat.

"I know you like your time away from Adam, but you've been away from him longer than usual. Is something bothering you? Did he do something...?" Lucifer questioned, voice soft and laced with concern. You nervously bit your lip, unsure of how to approach the topic without being too overwhelmingly blunt.

"I...." You began, pausing to take a deep breath, almost embarrassed by what you were going to say next. "I don't want to have sex with him, not today. Or ever." You admitted, shame filling you.

You were meant to fulfill your Husband's desires, it was why you were created. You already felt guilty about avoiding him today, along with your boundary-pushing relationship with Lucifer, so to finally verbalize how you had been feeling felt like you had just sinned in the worst way imaginable. You were failing to fulfill your sole reason for living.

"He leaves me unsatisfied, yearning for something more. I know it's selfish of me, I know it's downright sinful, but I wish that I could feel the same amount of pleasure Adam feels for just once in my life, even if its not needed for me to get pregnant." You refused to meet Lucifer's gaze. The angel had always been a good-intentioned rule-breaker, but at the end of the day, he was still an angel. One of the beings meant to carry out your creator's will, and your creator willed that you be submissive to your husband and birth his children.

Lucifer must be disgusted.

The last thing you expected was for him to begin pressing gentle kisses to your neck and collarbone, something you weren't entirely unfamiliar with, just not from him. It was the same thing Adam did to signal he wanted you, albeit Adam's kisses were much more hurried and sloppier; nowhere near as delightful as Lucifer's.

"L-Lucifer..." You breathed out, letting him lay you down and begin kissing lower and lower, all the way until his head was at your thighs. He placed his hands on them, but before he did anything, he looked up at you. "May I?" He asked, catching you off guard.

"W–What?" You stuttered in response. Your only other experience was with Adam, and while he knew that 'no' meant 'no', he was certainly more commanding than Lucifer was being right now.

"I need to know that you want this," Lucifer explained, lightly kissing the outside of your thigh. "I'm not him. You don't need to feel pressured into anything. I want you to be the one who feels good for once, yeah?"

You hesitated. Kissing Lucifer was one thing, but this was another; there'd be no going back from this. It felt wrong, it was wrong, but at the same time your desire for the man who made you feel things your husband never could was quickly overtaking you. You didn't just want this, you craved it. You needed it.

"Show me, Lucifer," You finally said, giving in, spreading your legs for him. "Show me what I've been missing out on." Lucifer placed a kiss on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your wet sex, before diving in like an animal starved. The feeling of his tongue licking at your cunt ignited a newfound ecstasy within you, your legs beginning to quiver not too long into it.

Your hands gripped at the grass beneath you, only got him to grab them, leading them to his hair. You grabbed at it instictively, pulling at the locks, eliciting a low moan from him; the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you.

"Lucifer!" You cried out, feeling him sucking on your clit. You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the lewd noises escaping you; as if it would lessen the sin of the act you were committing. His mouth left your needy pussy, his fingers replacing it soon after.

"No no no," He cooed, using his free hand to uncover your mouth. "Let me hear those sweet sounds you're making. Let me know how good you feel." You threw your head back with a pleasured whine as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot deep within you that had you seeing stars.

"Fuck—Your mouth, use your mouth—" You gasped, pulling his head back down, guiding him to where you needed him most by tugging at his hair. His fingers continued to fuck into you while his tongue lapped at whatever it could, the angel becoming drunk on your taste. His hand left your cunt, joining his other hand in locking your thighs in place as your legs trembled from the sensation of him going down on you.

"Close—So fucking close! Don't stop!" You pleaded. The impending feeling of orgasm was something you had felt before, but never before had you reached its climax; at least not until now. With one more 'come hither' motion of your lover's fingers, you were cumming for the first time in your life, your toes curling and a primal noise leaving you. He helped you ride out the waves of your orgasm, licking at your drenched sex, drinking up the juices of your climax until you couldn't take anymore, pushing his head away in a desperate attempt to escape the growing overstimulation.

Lucifer pulled away, eyes half-lidded and filled with mixed satisfaction and lust, your slick covering the corners of his mouth and fingers. He made a show of licking it off, moaning at the taste as it reached his tongue.

You let a content sigh, coming down from the absolute ecstasy you had experienced just moments prior. The feeling of contentment didn't last for long as you saw the bulge in Lucifer's pants; a sight that reignited the desires you had started with. To say he had done a good job would've been an understatement, but after finally witnessing just how amazing sex could feel, you knew you needed more.

You crawled into his lap, straddling him as you kissed, tasting yourself on his lips. You grinded down on him, and he separated from the kiss to let out a small groan. You continued your movements, feeling his cock growing harder through the fabric of his pants.

"Wait," He told you, placing his hands on your forearms in a signal for you to stop. You halted your actions, eyes widened in worry, and a blush creeping onto your face; scared you may have done something wrong. Did he not want you...?

"Hey, relax," He soothed, rubbing your arms comfortingly, taking notice of how you tensed up. "Do you want this? You're not obligated to return the favor or anything like that." You nodded in response. It was true, you wanted him more than anything. "I need you, need you so much." You rubbed down against him once more. "I need you inside of me, I need you to fuck me."

He smirked at your words, he had waited far too long to hear you say that. How many nights had he spent fucking into his hand, pretending it was your tight pussy, a hand clamped over his mouth so he wouldn't be caught by his fellow angels? To hear those words, so lewd and sinful, spill out of those perfect lips of yours sounded like music to his ears.

"I'm here to fulfill every single desire you have, honey." He purred, moving your hands down to the waistband of his pants. You pulled them down swiftly, his cock springing out. God, it was a sight to behold. You bit your lip, already imagining it inside of you; the leaky tip parting your folds, teasing you before finally thrusting in, the thickness of it stretching you out, and the length reaching that same sweet spot his fingers had touched earlier. It was everything you had ever wanted.

Your hands rested on his shoulders as he lined the tip up with your dripping cunt, giving you the honor of actually putting it in. You sunk down, sliding it in with ease. You moaned at the way he stretched you out, just as you imagined he would. His hands found your hips as you began to bounce on his cock, moans leaving you both.

You used him like you would a toy, something he had no problem with. You were lost in your own lust, focused purely on your pleasure; just the way Lucifer wanted it. There were no expectations placed on you except to put yourself first, to feel good for once. Lucifer wanted you to use him, and so you did.

"Fuck yes!" You cried, increasing your pace, the sound of skin on skin filling the air. Lucifer cursed, holding onto your hips hard enough to bruise. He moved one to your clit, rubbing at it, finding enjoyment in the way you threw your head back in ectasy at the combined sensations.

Your orgasm was sudden and caught you by surprise, your body trembling as it coursed through you. Your climax triggered his, and he spilled into you, warm cum filling you deep.

You pulled him in, lips finding his, pouring all of your love and passion for him into the kiss. You continued to kiss him sweetly as both of your orgasms subsided, enjoying the feeling of him still buried inside of you. That itch for more still resonated deep inside of you, and you were determined to satisfy it, even if it meant giving in to more and more of your sins.

Lucifer laid you down, lips never leaving yours as he began to move again; the same lustful urges having overtaken him as well. A second round turned into a third, and so on. You continued until you couldn't anymore, exhaustion being only what remained, and the day turning to night. All good things must come to an end, and eventually you bid Lucifer farewell.

Although you ended up bathing away the physical proof, your sin still remained as you returned to your husband.

"Where the FUCK have you been!?" Adam shouted upon seeing you, and you only ignored him, moving past the man and towards where you slept. Lucifer had awoken something within you, something equal parts liberating and devious. He had shown you a new world of possibilities, and you were more than ready to continue indulging in them.

The sins you had committed during your day were just the first of many, and you couldn't have been happier.