#grinding out the rest of these 🫡

[hausofanya]

“isn't this is so fun? everyone having a good time? i hope you are. grab a snack if you're still watching, we're gonna be here a while."

cléo offers the camera a smile, walking idly down the plush pink carpet as she talks. "music is so special to everyone here, no matter if you've debuted just this month or over ten years ago. we all poured relentless time and energy into chasing a dream ignited within us. and i think it's important to show that everyone can make it if they put their all into it." laying a hand over her heart, she adds, "i can personally attest to that."

before she can continue though, her attention is captured by someone waving excitedly, barely in frame. cléo brightens immediately, beginning where she left off as she approaches her next interviewee. "and these lovely ladies can second that. hello and welcome!"

the group bows first before doing their greeting, the members introduce themselves staring with the leader. minsu flashes a bright smile at cléo, being the one who had been waving. "hi! i'm minsu, the leader", the rest of the girls following suit with a cute greeting of their own. members wy, reya, yuvi, rivière, and suyin introduce themselves to the camera, with suyin providing the closing grin and a cute wink. "and we are cherryday!"

"it's so good to see all of you! you all look incredible. what are you ladies wearing?"

rivière, always the fashion enthusiast, pipes up, "we're wearing younvzs which is a small brand we're supporting! uh... the theme that we decided on was blooming flowers since we are coming back to show more colors than ever before, so all of us have some sort of floral motif in our dresses."

cléo lets out a soft ooohh as camera gives each members their own moment, lightly clapping as she praises the design choices. "it's cold out, but it's definitely spring somewhere, hm? i love it. what are three things you can't live without?"

wy starts to speak. "as a group--"

reya interrupts her. "it would probably be yuvi's laptop." the other members agree, suyin even adding, "oh yeah! that's our money maker!" yuvi gives a nervous smile and bow before looking at minsu.

"her bag," she adds, pointing at the leader, rivière agreeing with quick nods. "yesyes!! she has everything in there." off to the side, yuvi seems to nudge wy in the background, urging her to speak up as well. "uh... yeah... and a first aid kit probably." she fades off and the rest of the members nod, a slight sense of awkwardness settling over the group.

"you're the first person to mention some kind of aid, you know." cléo smiles at wy, who offers a timid one in return. "very practical. how bout some news? anything shocking happen to you this year? did it make or break anything for the group?"

minsu pipes up once again. "probably our ep announcement! we were just chilling one day when suddenly our managers called us for recordings. apparently yuvi had submitted some songs that they really liked!"

there's a pause as everyone nods in agreement before suyin gasps. "oh! and the thing... the alc thing." there's various exclamations of agreement from everyone as cléo looks intrigued, and suyin leans towards her to speak in a whisper. "someone we know got too wasted and decided to run away... yeah she was missing for a whole week and everyone was in panic." the response is vague, bit it's not easy to miss the sideways glances at wy, the tallest girl present.

cléo raises her brows but doesn't comment, merely offering her condolences for the unfortunate incident. "congrats on your ep as well! everyone, go support their girls as they promote their newest musical venture. i'm sure the fans will enjoy it--and hopefully keep their reactions at a comfortable level. but i'm sure there are stories about a fan or two going above and beyond.. care to share?"

the group looks around at each other, wondering which of their fan interactions to mention. a few of them are obviously public -- like the crate of letters written in blood that was sent of glasshouse after they had bought rights to the group back in 2017 and added wy-- but that seems to harsh to mention in the current joyous mood.

yuvi however, famously known for sharing information they aren't supposed to share, speaks up after a moment's pause. "uhh... it was probably the boxes of bras along with photos of us lounging at home that we had received at our older dorms... per member... that was really creepy actually, we had to move out immediately. the girls agree, a few of them shuddering.

"what is it with some.. 'fans' and their odd affinities for undergarments and stalking?" cléo offers a sympathetic grimace, shaking her head. "you ladies are also invited to my group therapy session. i think we all need it. but how about something fun, now? what's the weirdest thing you've ever googled?"

the group erupts into giggles, all of them shoving each other and giving looks. obviously this seems to be an inside joke much to cléo's surprise, and reya chooses to answer and include the host in the little game.

"each time we meet someone or have a party that is one of the first questions we ask." she smiles as cléo gives a slight laugh in delight. "i'll tell you mine though... i once googled 'male pregnant'." she smiles embarrassed as the other girls erupt into laughter. "in my defense, i was a sleep deprived medical student trying to do a research paper on pregnancies and their effects!!!" she exclaims in trying to defend herself.

as the giggles die down, yuvi, always curious about gossip, reaches for cléo's mic and asks her in a serious tone, "you should tell us yours!! it's ritual." when did this interview flip??

cléo takes the sudden questioning in stride, hiding a quiet laugh behind her hands before she leans forward to answer. "it's not really weird, i suppose? but everyone knows what fanfiction is. and i may or may not have browsed an archive of our own page or two just to see what my popular ships are. and-"

she leans in even more, clearly enjoying the spotlight if only for a little bit. "let's just say the popular ships may or may not have some truth to them. that's all i'm going to say! i'll take my mic back now, thank you."

cléo just smiles as a crash can definitely be heard behind the camera, the girls tittering beside her in amusement as she steers the interview back on course. "enough about music for a bit. do any of you have any drama you'd like for me to know? it's ritual," she teases back.

"our fans will always be our special someones!" wy says, finally speaking up as the rest of the group nods and agrees. although if you listen close you can hear a very faint 'of course you'd say that...' but it is quickly covered up by the rushed farewell and dazzling smile of the leader.

cléo simply waves as they're pulled away, huffing a faint laugh in surprise.

"sound off in the comments if you think they read fanfiction out loud like poetry."

you can find cherryday at @cherywrld ! thanks so much for joining the event !

[deakyjoe]

Pattern Breaker

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (afab)

Category: smut, fluff, friends to lovers, idiots in love

Summary: A love confession turns to more once Bob knows you’re interested.

Warnings: 18+, smut (!!), protected p in v sex, f receiving oral (pussy eating king), vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, handjob, kissing, groping, scratching/marking, Bob fucks, love confessions, fluff, talks of bad dates, reader described as having hair and being shorter than Bob (but nothing else), swearing/cursing - let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 7.1k (it kinda ran away from me)

A/N: My humble contribution to the Bob Fucks Agenda 🫡

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Bob Floyd was head over heels in love with you.

Yet he had no idea what series of mistakes had landed him here. In the Hard Deck. With you. Sat next to him. In a tight booth. Your thigh pressed up against his. Tracing patterns with the tip of your finger on the back of his hand. Many would argue that this didn't seem like a bad thing. Why would something so intimate with someone he was in love with be a mistake? Well, the issue was that you were doing it in a totally platonic way.

You were doing it mindlessly too, as you engaged in idle conversation with Phoenix opposite you, which almost made it worse. Bob Floyd's brain was whirring at a million miles per second over something you were doing without even thinking about it. It took every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from moving. Closer to you or further away, he didn't know. But he tried to stay still. So very still. Just so you'd keep doing it.

He was also desperately trying to pay attention to the story you were telling Phoenix, about the latest bad first date you'd been on. It appeared to be a regular thing with you. A string of first dates where you knew before you'd even ordered the entrées that they wouldn't be the right guy for you. And you always had valid reasons, at least in Bob's opinion.

"He told me he doesn't like sunsets." You groaned. "Like, who doesn't like sunsets?"

Bob personally loved sunsets.

Phoenix frowned at you. "Did he give a reason why?"

Bob imagined that Phoenix was feeling a little guilty about the whole thing. After all, she was the one who'd set you up with this guy. But he was thankful for it. He didn't know what he'd do with himself when you finally managed to find the right guy and it wasn't him.

"Something about the day ending and having a mindset about being on the grind I think, I don't know." You sighed, pausing your finger's movement against the back of Bob's hand for a moment before carrying on. He almost had a heart attack when you pressed your cheek into his shoulder and started leaning against him as well.

"Sorry it didn't work out. I can find you another guy maybe, umm..." Phoenix trailed off with a thoughtful hum.

But you waved her off. "No, it's okay. I think I'm done with blind dates for now."

Bob's head snapped towards you. Oh?

"If you're sure." Phoenix started to rise from the table, pressing her hands into the wooded surface. "I think I'm gonna call it a night. See you two tomorrow."

"Goodnight, see you tomorrow." You smiled at her, nudging Bob with your elbow when he stayed silent.

He flinched away from you. "Ow! What? Oh. Yeah, goodnight."

Phoenix's eyes flicked between the two of you, an amused huff leaving her mouth before she gave you both a mock salute and left the bar.

There was a silence between the two of you for a moment as you relaxed against Bob's shoulder a little more.

"What about you? Ready to call it a night?" You asked, turning to rest your chin on his bicep so you could look up at his face.

He glanced at you briefly, turning away again when he realised how close your faces were in that position and cleared his throat. "No, I'm good here for a little longer. If you are?"

You nodded and sat up, extracting yourself from his touch completely. Bob almost sobbed at the loss of contact.

"Yeah, I'm good." You paused to take him in, how he wasn't looking directly at you. He did that sometimes. You always figured he was just a little awkward about eye contact. Which was a shame considering his eyes were your favourite shade of blue.

Bob did flicker his eyes towards you then, wondering why you were staring at him silently. "Are you okay?"

You shrugged. "I kinda wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yeah?" He turned to face you properly, knees angled towards you to show that you had his full attention. "What about?"

You looked at him for a few seconds too long, enough to make him anxious and you think that maybe you'd given something away with your eyes. "You know how when we met we just clicked?"

Bob was surprised at that question. But he knew exactly what you meant. So he nodded. "Yeah."

You scrunched your nose and looked away from him for a second. "Well, I'm not clicking with any of these guys I'm going on blind dates with."

He knew that, you’d said as much. So he really didn't know where you were going with this. "Okay...”

"I just wish it was as easy as it was with you. Like we just work together so perfectly, I don't even feel like I'm trying with you."

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, looking sideways at you. "Uh-"

Your eyes widened and you were quick to clarify, hands held up in apology. "And not like I don't put any effort into it with you but just like I don't feel as if I'm constantly trying to make it work, y'know?"

He nodded again. "Sure."

You sighed frustratedly. "Do you get what I'm trying to say here, Bob?"

"Not really." He shook his head and gave a weak, apologetic smile.

You chuckled. "I'm trying to say that I've never clicked with a guy like I have with you."

"Right." He straightened up.

"But we're just friends." You said slowly.

He hesitated. "Mhm."

You squinted at him. "To cut it short I'm trying to say that I think I'm in love with you."

Bob could have fallen out of his seat.

"Oh!"

Now, that caught him really off guard.

"Well, I'm trying to figure out my feelings for you. Because they're certainly more than friendly!" You laughed quietly. "Which isn't really fair. To me or to you. But it's gotta be done because I'm sick of not clicking with men and being on dates where I'm just constantly thinking of how much easier it would be if I were sat across from you instead."

Bob ignored most of your rambling, fixating on one little statement. "Why's it not fair?"

Your face crumpled momentarily. "It's going to make it awkward for you if I am in fact in love with you. And it's unfair for me because I might be in love with a guy who only views me platonically."

Bob looked at you for a moment, eyes wide and almost pleading, and uttered your name softly.

You frowned. "What?"

He gave you a meaningful look.

"You do view me platonically, right?" You leant backwards. "Right?"

He glanced away from you before looking back, giving a short and sharp shake of his head. No.

The world shook around you.

"But- but you never made a move. I thought that you..." You trailed off into distressed thought.

"Oh, I made moves. Just not very obvious ones apparently." He cleared his throat with a quick cough, scrunching his face momentarily in embarrassment.

"Why did you never just say?"

"I guessed that you weren't interested since you never seemed to reciprocate my- my moves." He scratched at the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed at the thought of his moves.

"But I'm all over you!" You exclaimed. "I'm so touchy!"

He froze and turned to you stiffly. "I thought you were just like that. With everyone!"

"Have you ever seen me touch another human being half as much as I touch you?" You said monotonously.

"Well..." He thought about it. He hadn't. You gave hugs, sure. But you certainly didn't stand with your head resting on anyone's shoulder, arms wrapped around their bicep like you did with him. You didn't sit next to anyone, legs resting over their thighs, like you did with him. You definitely didn't trace patterns on the back of anyone's hand like you had been with him earlier.

You let him think about it for a few moments before interrupting his thoughts. "You didn't answer my question. Why didn't you just say?"

Bob looked deep into your eyes, recognising the look of regret he could feel within himself. "By the time I had the courage to... the friendship was already solidified. And I thought it would ruin it."

"Oh, Bob." You smiled widely at him. "You should've said something. I had a huge crush on you when we first met."

Have a huge crush. Have.

He perked up slightly. "You did?"

No. Do.

"Yeah! I buried it after a while because I figured you weren't interested. And now I'm realising that I'm probably in love with you anyway." You found it almost funny how the two of you seemed to be in the exact same situation and yet had no idea how the other was feeling.

He decided to be honest. "It would certainly brighten my day if you were."

You had a thought suddenly. "Walk me home?"

Bob felt a sense of whiplash from the rapid change in topic. But didn't question it. "O-okay."

You grinned at him and motioned for him to get up, following him out of the booth and grabbing his hand once you were stood next to him. Not having to worry about closing out a tab with Penny since you'd been paying for drinks each time you ordered, you didn't hesitate in dragging him behind you out the back door of the Hard Deck and onto the beach.

You took a glimpse at Bob next to you, finding him already watching you. "Figured we could do the moonlit beach walk on the way back to my place."

He just nodded, not missing the way you were still grasping onto his hand as the two of you started walking in the direction of your home. The moonlight beach walk wasn't an uncommon occurrence between the two of you. You'd done it countless times before, in fact. It was just a nice thing to do that happened to involve some nice views that you both enjoyed. It just felt different this time, Bob thought to himself.

He had to ask. "Your last blind date, did he really not like sunsets?"

You looked at him, delighted by the seemingly random question. "Yeah. How off-putting is that?!"

"Very." Bob mumbled. "Y'know... I really like sunsets."

Ah, you saw what he was getting at.

"I know." You chirped. "I'll never forget the sunset on the day we met when you explained that the reason they're so colourful is because of the way the light scatters through the atmosphere. It was very purple that night."

His eyebrows shot up. He'd forgotten he'd told you that. But you were right. It had been very purple. He'd watched you take about thirty photographs of the sky. And knew then that he was in trouble.

The rest of the walk back to your place was quiet, a few passing comments made between the two of you as you pointed out a cute dog and Bob showed you where new flowers were beginning to blossom on a tree you regularly saw. Your hands stayed intertwined the whole time, swinging gently between your bodies.

It was easy. Just how it should be.

Silence shrouded the two of you as you approached your front door, wondering what was supposed to come next. Bob was still hung up on your sudden abandonment of your conversation back at the Hard Deck as you stopped at your door. Why had you dropped it?

The question escaped him as you suddenly tugged him a lot closer, so your chests almost touched, and lowered your voice.

"Come inside."

It wasn't proposed as a question, or even a request, but as more of a statement. Like you were telling him that he should follow you into your home to find out what happens next. Because of this, Bob could only reply with one thing.

"Okay."

There was no turning back now.

You beamed at him and rushed to unlock your door, flicking on a light switch once it was open and ushering him in behind you. Bob had been to your place countless times before, even crashed on your couch once or twice after nights there had run a little too long, but this time felt different. Just like the walk on the beach had.

He supposed it was because of what the two of you confessed earlier that night. But he still couldn't shake the thoughts about the fact that the conversation hadn't carried on to a point where he knew what was going to happen next between the two of you. Bob wanted answers. And he guessed that they were hidden in the depths of your home.

You guided him to your kitchen, offered him a drink which he politely declined, and stopped suddenly in the middle of the room to turn on your heel and look at him.

"Do you know why I asked you back here?"

He stilled a few paces in front of you. "Honestly? No."

You smiled at that. "Because I decided that I am."

Bob was even more confused. "Am what?"

You barked out a laugh like you suddenly realised you'd left out half of your sentence and that what you'd said had made no coherent sense. "In love with you. Absolutely head over heels. One hundred per cent.”

He said nothing in reply, sensing that you had more you wanted to say. He was right.

"And I wanted to be able to explore that possibility for us without prying eyes. In the privacy of my home." You huffed, slightly frustrated. Bob took a single step towards you. "I don't- I don't know how to say this."

He closed the gap, hands resting on your arms to reassure you. You'd never struggled to tell him anything and he certainly didn't want that to start now. "It's me. You can say anything to me. You know that. It's okay."

When you met his gaze again, your eyes were slightly glassy with tears. But you blinked them away. They were angry tears at yourself for taking this long to get to this point with him. It should've happened so much sooner.

Your eyes flickered to his lips. Bob knew what that meant, he was feeling it himself, but wanted you to say it.

Letting out a slightly shaky laugh, you composed yourself. "You might need to let me spiral and talk for a minute."

He smiled softly, surprised he wasn't doing his own spiralling and talking in this situation. "That's okay."

You nodded and sighed. "Okay, so. I don't want things to change between us. Well, I do. But, like, not everything. I still want us to be us. I still want to be able to tell you everything and have easy conversations and just go for walks on the beach and talk about meaningless things and have you explain stuff to me that you think I'll find interesting and sit close to each other just because we can not because we have to."

You stopped for breath and Bob felt like he was having to restrain his heart from bursting out of his chest.

"We'll still just be me and you and things will be easy between us. Like they always have been. But now... instead of sleeping on my couch after late nights, you'll- you'll sleep in my bed. And we'll kiss and, god, have a lot of sex I hope."

Bob chuckled at that and you joined him, happy to see that he wasn't freaking out at everything you were saying.

"We'll still be me and you but just... evolved. Right?"

Bob had started the evening knowing he was head over heels in love with you. He couldn't believe the night was ending with that love somehow growing even more, combining with yours to create some force that defied the laws of nature. The room was practically swimming in it, he could feel it prickling at the surface of his skin and taste it on the top of his tongue.

He nodded firmly at you. "Me and you but evolved."

You visibly relaxed under his hands and smiled giddily up at him. "Great, can you kiss me now?"

You didn't have to ask Bob twice.

The kiss started off sweet, almost innocent. A few, slightly open mouthed, pecks as the two of you giggled against each other. It was something new for the two of you. So even thought it felt right, it was still new territory to explore. But it didn't take long for it to take a turn. As soon as you opened your mouth fully to lick gently against Bob's lips, it was like something in him snapped.

An arm snaked around your waist and tugged you flush against him, chest to chest, and his other hand tangled in the back of your hair. His nose crammed into your cheek, his glasses falling slightly askew, as he licked into your mouth hotly with his head angled down to meet you halfway.

Your head whirled with the thought that he was good at this. Bob Floyd was an extraordinarily good kisser. Why hadn't you done this sooner?

You let out soft moans to encourage him despite him not even seeming shy about the idea anymore. In fact, Bob had no sense of restraint left in him. He'd waited so long for this, for you. And now he was lost in the feeling of your skin against his and the sounds you were making in reply to what he was doing. Which is why he let his hands drift across you more, not anchoring his touch to any specific place.

You felt like you were on fire, no time to breathe as breaks for oxygen were mere fractions of a second long. You'd never imagined him being capable of making you feel like this so quickly. Your lower abdomen burning with desire and your panties already practically soaked through. And he hadn't even touched you intimately yet. You could only hope that you were having half the same effect on him.

Bob's hands lowered themselves slowly, tracing along your ribcage, circling your waist, gripping at your hips, before he tentatively let them rest on your ass. You hummed in motivating appreciation and pushed yourself up even more to kiss him impossibly harder. He took that as a good sign, fingers digging into the flesh beneath them and rocking your pelvis towards his. Where you found that he was hard.

A noise rumbled in your chest, leaking out as a high pitched whine directly into his mouth.

Bob pulled away with a slight look of concern in his eyes which now held almost no trace of the blue shade you'd come to adore, pupils blown wide enough to engulf his irises. "Is this too much? We can slow down."

You shook your head, slowing down being the last thing you wanted. "No, I'm just surprised that you're so... handsy. I always thought you were a gentleman."

"Oh." He blushed a deep red, the colour reaching the tips of his ears. "I'm just eager, I guess. We can wait. I mean, I can wait. If it's too much."

You leaned back in closer to him, lips brushing across his. "Don't you think we've waited long enough?"

He did.

Somehow the second round of kissing was even more searing, almost consuming, than the first. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand gripping tightly onto his hair and tugging occasionally. Bob didn't let up squeezing at your ass after he'd realised that the sound you'd made previously was one of pleasure and not pain, rocking your hips into his a couple times more for good measure.

When his lips moved to trail a line of kisses down your jawline and onto your neck, your eyes practically rolled back into your head. This was too good to be true. You were stood in your kitchen, at almost midnight, and Bob was sucking a hickey into your neck. How was this even real?

You realised that if you didn't move soon then the two of you were going to end up fucking on the kitchen floor. And whilst you weren't totally against the idea, you figured you should at least offer him the comfort of a bed for your first time together.

"Bedroom, Floyd. Now." You gasped, grasping his hair to pull him away from your neck. But when you got a good look at him, you almost abandoned the idea completely. His hair was ruffled from where you'd been pulling at it, his glasses sat crookedly on his nose, his face was flushed a rosy pink, his lips were swollen and kiss bitten, and his eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them. He was a sight to behold.

You snapped back to reality, fixed his glasses so they sat correctly on his face, clenched your legs together, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt to tug him behind you towards your bedroom. Bob, of course, had no complaints about this and followed you very happily. After watching you kick off your shoes as the both of you scurried down your hallway, he did the same. Not many thoughts were occurring in his brain at that moment, not any clean ones anyway, but one thing was certain as he looked at you: he'd never wanted someone more.

The bedroom door slammed shut behind him and before he had the chance to take in any of his surroundings he was pressed up against it and your lips were on his again, your hands desperately clutching at the bottom of his shirt to untuck it from his pants.

"Why- do- you- always- wear- your- uniform?" The question was asked between fiery kisses. Not that you were complaining. You loved to see him in his uniform. But he always looked so formal.

Bob waited until you were too distracted trying to unbuckle his belt to kiss him so he could get his answer out fully. "You once told me I look handsome in it."

You paused and tilted your head up to look at him. Taking in his open expression, you could tell that he was being honest. "God, I fucking love that you listen to me."

He laughed momentarily before his jaw snapped shut and he swallowed thickly as you began fumbling with his belt buckle again. "Your hands are shaking."

The observation was simple but had you freezing anyway. "Care to help a girl out then?"

Bob could tell that you were getting anxious, nerves suddenly overruling the initial excitement and lust. He could understand. He was currently running on the high of you dragging him to your bedroom. Maybe you also needed something like that to keep you going.

He glanced over your shoulder towards your bed and nodded towards it. "Lie down."

Bob watched as the fire quickly re-ignited in your eyes and you did as you were told, bouncing on the mattress as you sprawled yourself across it. Undoing his belt completely, he took a few steps towards you until he stood between your open legs.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch him eagerly. The mattress dipped as he knelt on it and crawled across it until he was hovering over you.

You hummed quietly, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "Hmm, I like this position."

He leaned in close, as if going to kiss you. "I thought you might."

His voice was low, rumbling deep in his chest. It was a tone you'd only had the privilege of hearing a few times before. During late nights when he was tired and could barely keep his eyes open as you continued to talk his ears off with meaningless nonsense but did so anyway just so he could listen to you talk. When he'd held you close to him during crowded nights at the Hard Deck and spoken directly into your ear so you could hear him over the sounds flooding the place. Moments that were intimate between you both but you'd been too oblivious to see as more than platonic.

It was the voice that Bob Floyd used to flirt with you.

You pulled back, wide eyed, to get a good look at him. "Oh, my god. You have made moves."

His brows scrunch for a moment, a confused laugh bubbling out of him. "Yeah, I said so earlier."

"I know but that voice." You poked his chest accusingly. "It's your flirty, sultry, bedroom voice! You've used it on me before!"

"It's not my-" He paused, thinking about it for a second, and then shrugged. "Oh, yeah. Maybe you're right."

"I like it, it's hot. Do it again." You giggled when he rolled his eyes, reaching your hands up to start unfastening the buttons on his shirt.

"And what would you like me to say?" His voice dipped back down to the low tone and you had to suppress a shiver.

"Anything. I just like hearing you talk." You reached the last button and helped him slide the shirt from his shoulders, revealing a white undershirt that you knew always resided underneath. The brown uniform shirt was discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor.

"How about how I think it's time for you to start removing some clothes? Since my shirt's off and my belt is unbuckled." His raised a finger to trace along the neckline of your t-shirt.

You whined. "Not fair. You're not even showing any skin yet. If I take my shirt off then all I've got is a bra on underneath."

Bob chuckled, low voice lost for a moment. "Is my white t-shirt not the equivalent of your bra?"

You pondered it for a moment. Maybe he was right. "Depends if you like the way my tits look in this bra as much as I like the way your biceps look in that white shirt."

He took a quick glance at his arms which were caging you into the bed, hand planted on either side of your head. "My biceps, huh?"

"A weakness of mine, I admit." You shrugged and sat up, pushing at his chest to give you some room. "Have to stop myself from biting them when I rest my head on your shoulder."

"For the record, I'd totally let you."

With a laugh you took Bob's hands in yours and guided them to the hem of your shirt, giving him a nod of confirmation. "You would now but let's be honest, it would've been a little unusual of me to just suddenly bite you before."

He tried desperately to keep eye contact with you as he pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. "Maybe, but I wouldn't have said a word of complaint."

"I'll remember that for the future." You paused and noticed his frozen stare. "You're allowed to look, y'know?"

He knew but he was holding himself back with the knowledge that he'd probably go feral once he saw you without a shirt on. Just below his eye line he could tell that the bra you were wearing was lacy and pretty much see-through. He took a deep breath before looking properly and let out a very low groan when he saw that your nipples were hard and very visible through the fabric.

Bob's dick twitched in his pants at the sight. He feared he wouldn't last very long once the two of you actually got going.

You leant back on your hands and watched him look over you. It was kind of entertaining and certainly a confidence booster for you. "Like what you see?"

His eyes met yours again. "Shut up. You know I fucking do."

That sent a ripple of heat through you. Despite knowing him for so long, you'd never heard Bob curse. He'd let out the occasional damn at big inconveniences but never anything more than that. You figured it was part of him being such a gentleman and the fact that he loved to point out that his mother raised him right.

"Careful, Floyd. That dirty mouth will get you in trouble." You flattened your back onto the bed again, pulling him down on top of you by a handful of his shirt.

"If by trouble you mean with you underneath me then I'm willing to take that risk." His voice somehow got lower, a raspy edge being added to it. It's like he knew exactly how to break you.

You grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him down to kiss you again, you'd gone too long without feeling his mouth on yours, and you revelled in the grunt he let out against your lips.

This was a whole new side to Bob that you were seeing. And you were loving it. Somehow it was still so easy, the two of you continuing to just bounce off of each other and the sexual chemistry was luckily just naturally there as well. You thought it may have been slightly awkward between you but you'd never felt so confident about sleeping with someone in your life.

Bob realised he should probably check something before the two of you got any further so pulled away momentarily. "Do you have a condom?"

"Oh, yeah! Wait, hang on-" You slid away from him, hanging over the edge of the bed to rifle through a drawer in your nightstand. Producing a small box, you waved it triumphantly at him.

"Hoping those blind dates were going to be successful, huh?" He teased, reaching out to grab your waist to drag you back underneath him. He was relieved you had the box but if you didn't then he knew it wouldn't have stopped him from doing other things to you until you were able to buy some condoms.

Your jaw dropped. "No! Just never underprepared."

"I applaud your readiness. I'm sure if the apocalypse hits then we'll be thankful for your supply of condoms."

"If the apocalypse hits then we'll be tasked with repopulating the Earth and have to have lots of unprotected sex to do so." You bit back playfully, glad to see when his eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the mention of doing it raw. "Oh, you like that thought, huh?"

"You caught me. Guilty." He raised a hand in surrender before gesturing at you. "Now let's get naked so we can have lots of protected sex."

You had to fight back a surge of laughter but let a few giggles escape when you found Bob looking at you with an amused look of his own. You were glad that the two of you were still able to joke and be you even in an intimate moment like this, relieved that it didn't suddenly become serious.

Clothes were discarded and quick kisses were exchanged as the two of you inched closer and closer to where you both really wanted to be. After your bra had been unclasped and thrown into the void with every other item of clothing, and Bob had thoroughly explored your chest with both his hands and mouth, you fell back onto the bed with him on top of you for another round of kissing. It's like the two of you couldn't keep your lips separated for longer than necessary.

His bare chest pressed into yours, a sheen of sweat gliding between you, as he rocked his hips against you, grinding his hard length into your clothed pussy.

If you'd told Bob at the beginning of the evening that this was how his night would end then he would've laughed and told you he didn't believe you. But now that he was here, he couldn't have imagined it any other way. That's what made him realise that enough was enough.

He suddenly broke the kiss and sat up again, kneeling in between your legs. Hooking two fingers into the waistband of your panties, he made eye contact with you. "May I?"

You nodded vigorously.

Bob shook his head. "Words."

You could've orgasmed right there and then. "Yes, you can."

He took that answer and started to slide your panties down your legs slowly, helping you to lift your hips to get them off easier. Once they reached your ankles he plucked them off and cast them aside, planting a quick kiss on your calf before lowering your legs either side of him again.

You reached for the condoms to pass them to him, aware that you were only the one step of removing his underwear away before he'd finally be inside you.

But he pushed your hand aside, choosing instead to slide his palms down your thighs. "In a minute."

"We haven't got forever, y'know. Get on it." You laughed, curious as to what he was doing.

"Gotta get you ready first." He mumbled, pushing your legs apart so he could see better.

Oh? "I can assure you that I'm plenty ready and wet and would like your dick inside me now please."

"So polite." He hummed with a smile on his face. "And I can see how wet you are. Just gotta make sure that you're relaxed enough to take me."

"Somebody's confident about their size, huh?"

He laughed as he shook his head. "Would you rather me not go down on you?"

As much as you were teasing him not to, you very much wanted him to. "Fine, if you insist." You replied with a sigh and an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

Bob almost chuckled, but when he looked up into your eyes again he was met with an angelic vision. You were stretched out on the bed, naked, for him. All for him. He reminded himself to thank the universe at some point. But, before that, he needed to thank you by making you come.

He shuffled back on the bed, moving your legs over his shoulders as he did so, and laid flat on his stomach before you. And got to work.

Bob practically devoured you.

You writhed underneath his grasp, one of his arms thrown across your stomach to keep you in place, as he licked and sucked at you. Your clit throbbed against his tongue as he flicked it from side to side over the sensitive spot. One of your hands flew to tangle in his hair as your legs trembled on either side of his head.

"Oh- oh, my god." You panted, chest heaving with laboured breaths. You looked down at him to see that his glasses had fogged up. You let out a slightly strangled laugh at him as he decided to slide a finger into you at that moment.

"Fuck me. Fuck, fuck, fuck." You gasped and collapsed back onto the pillows.

Bob moaned into you and you let out a cry at the feeling of the vibrations running through you. His finger pumped in and out of you. Slowly at first before he increased the pace and then, once you were somehow even wetter, introduced a second finger.

And with two of his fingers inside of you, bending slightly to hit that sweet spot inside of you, along with his tongue making tight little circles on your clit, it didn't take long for the pressure to build in your lower abdomen and then suddenly explode through you. Your body shook with pleasure, a tidal wave of profanity and primal noises escaping your mouth.

Bob gave you no time to rest though, surging up your body and kissing you again, giving you a taste of yourself which had you moaning into his mouth. When he pulled back again, you smiled. His glasses were still foggy.

"Can you even see through these?" You asked, reaching up to take them off of him. Wiping gently at the lenses with your bedsheets, you awaited an answer.

"Not really. I usually take them off for this kind of thing. But I forgot. In the excitement." He looked away from you, embarrassed. Funny how he could still be shy despite having just eaten you out like no one else had before.

You hummed quietly, taking his face in your hands to direct him to kiss you again after you'd placed his glasses down on your nightstand as you wrapped your legs around the backs of his and bucked your hips up towards him. "Are we going to do something about you now? Because I know you've been hard since we first kissed."

"I was hoping you hadn't noticed how quickly that happened." The low, raspy voice was back and you felt yourself melting a little on the inside.

"Difficult not to when we were practically dry humping in the middle of the kitchen." You trailed a finger down his torso over his, extremely sculpted, abs and stopped at the waistband of his boxers, hooking the tip of your finger inside.

He watched what you were doing. "I did get a little carried away there, granted."

You paused, asking him the silent question of approval to carry on, before slipping your hand into his underwear and grabbing him. His skin was soft and velvety under your palm and, before you even had the chance to start stroking him, his dick twitched in your hand. "Mmm... so sensitive, Bobby."

He whimpered quietly, squeezing his eyes shut.

You reached for the box of condoms again, realising this probably wouldn't last very long if you did much else with your hand, and pulled one foil wrapper out. Quietly uttering his name to get him to open his eyes again, you pushed the condom against Bob's chest. "Put it on."

He didn't reply, didn't need to reply, just followed your instructions and did as he was told. Straightening up again into a kneeling position, he flailed around a little in an attempt to kick his underwear off. You tried not to laugh. When he succeeded, he ripped the packaging open with his teeth and rolled the condom onto himself in one smooth motion. And then he positioned himself over you, notching the tip of his length at your entrance.

He looked down at you for confirmation to go ahead.

You had one last teasing comment. "Your confidence in your size was warranted."

He huffed out a laugh. "I'd be insulted in your lack of confidence if I didn't love you so much."

Warmth bloomed through your chest. It had been implied several times throughout the night but hearing the words come out of his mouth meant so much more. He loved you.

You beamed up at him. "Glad to know that your love for me overrides any possible offence. I'll be using that to my advantage in future. Now please fuck me, I'm going crazy here."

Bob adored the way you were able to flip a conversation so easily. But he was glad you'd said it as he was beginning to experience his own temporary insanity being on the brink of having sex with you but not quite being there just yet.

He pushed into you slowly at first and then all at once, not being able to hold himself back. Once he'd bottomed out he paused for a moment, a choked groan leaving his throat. You whined at the stretch, glad for the previous orgasm prepping you for this.

"Just- just give me a second." Bob warned you, hanging his head as he took deep breaths.

Patiently, you waited.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for him to get a grip of himself as he eased out of you before slamming back in again. You gasped at the sensation. He set a pace, a steady yet almost brutal one. The loud sounds of sex filled the room and you hoped your neighbours were long asleep.

Bob buried his face in your neck, using his elbows to keep himself from smothering you. The noises he let out into your skin were heavenly and you were thankful that they weren't too muffled. You clawed as his back, making scratches that you'd have to apologise profusely for the next day.

"Fuck, harder please. Please harder." You didn't think it was possible for him to go any harder, the way he pounded into you already making the headboard shake, but you begged him to anyway. And somehow he found a way.

Your skin prickled with a burn where he slapped against you, one of his large hands sliding down to grip harshly at the flesh of your ass in order to pull you impossibly closer to him. He continuously hit that sweet spot inside of you, your eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling. The pressure was steadily building in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter with every thrust of Bob’s hips.

You clung onto his shoulders tightly as you plummeted off the edge, your thighs locking in on either side of him to lock him in place. Bob paused his movements for a second, feeling you clench around him as your throat formed a silent scream that came out as a gasp, and only started up again when you relaxed beneath him.

He pulled away from your neck to look down at you, finding a giddy smile on your face. He kissed you, all teeth and tongues, as he pumped into you a few more times before spilling into the condom. And then he collapsed on top of you.

The two of you stayed there for a couple of minutes, both catching your breath.

“I’m glad you had so many failed dates.” Bob whispered into the glistening skin of your chest.

You laughed quietly. “Me too.”

He eased himself up slowly, pulling out of you with a hiss, to dispose of the condom. “Do you think Phoenix purposely set you up on bad dates so you’d admit your feelings for me?”

You thought about it for a second. “Probably. She knows I’ve had a crush on you for forever. And I can’t think of any other good reason that she’d set me up with a sunset hater.”

Bob pulled back the covers on the bed and gestured for you to get in, crawling in beside you. “Can’t believe that guy.”

“I know!” You laughed and turned on your side to look at him. “Wished she’d done it sooner then we could’ve been doing this for a lot longer.”

He joined in on your laughter. “Trust me, we’ll have plenty of time now to be doing this a lot more.”

You smiled. “I’m glad.”

He smiled back. “Me too.”

You scooted closer to each other, limbs tangling together into one big mess, softs words of love exchanged between you as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep in each other’s arms.

A/N: this is the longest thing I think I’ve ever posted as a single thing… hope you enjoyed!

[sleepymarimo]

𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜.

summary: lazy. morning. sex. pairing: zoro x afab!reader cw: mdni, established relationship, creampie, cockwarming an: wrote this after a concert, while hella drunk. might have to proofread 🫡 i am putty in this man's hands wc: ~1.5k

the observation deck is quiet, almost still except for the occasional sway from the crashing of waves against the hull of the ship. it’s the only place where the two of you got a slice of privacy, so for now, the wooden floors would do.

zoro lays out on his back, one of his arms resting behind his head while the other curled around your sleeping form. your back was pressed to his side, the muscle of his bicep acting as the perfect pillow for you to rest on.

the sun had yet to rise, the sky painted in hues of purple and blue. in time, daybreak would be upon you. for now you eagerly relished in the warmth zoro had to offer you.

the swordsman’s steady inhales are interrupted by a hitched breath, followed by a tired groan. he tugs you closer, a rasped exhale rattling in his chest as he did so.

his tongue swipes across his lower lip before he swallows and lets out a sigh.

slowly, he turns over. you can feel his weight roll over onto your back and you let out a small whine in protest. it doesn't take much to pin you to the wooden floor. he’s all consuming and captivating. even when he’s drowsy and half asleep, he somehow manages to remind you that he’s capable of decimating entire empires.

the next thing you register is the feel of his teeth against the nape of your neck. with a subtle undulation of his hips against your ass, you can tell what he’s in the mood for.

a shiver runs down your spine, your back arching slightly. “zo’…” you whimper, eyelids still heavy with tiredness. “thought you were gonna train.”

he grumbles a curse against your flesh, his hips slowly grinding against the curve of your rear. his breaths are heavy, the scent of sake lingering from the night before. while he loves how adamant you are on making sure he stayed sharp and disciplined, he finds that your words do little to change his mind.

“s’just a warm up.” his tongue licks at the sensitive flesh of your neck, his lips sucking light marks into your skin. he emphasizes his point by grinding against you a little harder, his already hard cock rubbing against your ass with a delicious friction.

he knows you won’t deny him. it’s not like he’d ever deny you, either.

your twitching muscles and hushed gasps only spur him on. he slides a hand under your shirt, groping at your tits before rolling a hardening nipple between his fingers.

the action has your back arching, pressing your ass to his clothed cock in a desperate attempt to find reprieve.

with a kiss to your shoulder, he lifts himself off of your vulnerable form and kneels behind you.

his calloused hands gently tug down your pajamas and panties, tossing them to some random corner of the room. your shirt is next, peeled off of your practically pliant form and leaving you bare before him. he takes a moment to rub his palms up and down your thighs, squeezing and kneading at the softness.

all he needs to do is feel.

one of his hands guides your leg outward, hiking it up into a nice ninety degree angle which opens you up for him perfectly. your other leg remains straightened out, flat against the wooden floor. he slides his hand upwards, grazing the skin of your inner thigh and letting out a satisfied grunt once his fingers make contact with your soaked cunt.

he tugs down his sweatpants and boxers, just enough to let his cock loose. a few solid strokes to relieve the tension is all he needs, before he guides the head of his arousal right to your entrance. his hand guides his cock up and down your slit, coating it in your wetness before rolling his hips forward.

he shudders, he always does, when he enters you.

it’s like his body isn’t used to experiencing such pleasure. he’ll never fully get used to it. he’ll never get used to feeling so damn good.

the moan you let out might as well have been a sigh. it’s so light, nearly breathless, and your head spins.

he buries his head into your back, suppressing a guttural growl. his hair feels soft against your skin, both of you coated in a light sheen of sweat.

“fuuuuuuck.” he gives a few lazy strokes, his cock twitching at the warmth of your cunt. it hugs him in a velvety embrace, soft and spongy walls seeming to pull him deeper and deeper. “i swear this pussy was made f’me.”

beneath him, you mewl. your eyes screw shut, his hips rocking into yours with purpose and passion. he puts his whole weight behind his thrusts, the floor creaking with every movement. it's almost overwhelming.

his face buries into the crook of your neck, where he kisses and licks and nips at your flesh like a beast in heat.

cheek pressed to the floor, you can’t focus on anything other than the feel of his cock splitting you open. you’d beg him over and over again to wreck you. he'd do it without hesitation.

for a few moments, the room fills with echoes of soft, wet slaps, sharp gasps and restrained groans. it's an exchange that goes beyond words. daybreak brings with it a surge of emotion, beams of sunlight exposing the emotions usually tucked away in the shadows.

his breath hitches, jaw going slack as pleasure begins to claw its way up to his chest. “play with yourself, doll.” he growls, burying his face into your hair. he breathes in the scent of your sweat and natural fragrance, wanting each and every one of his senses to be attuned to you.

wordlessly, you obey. using almost all your might, you push back against him just enough to wedge a hand down to your puffy clit. your knuckles graze uncomfortably against the rough floor, but that doesn’t stop you from rubbing small, fast circles against your sensitive bud.

a lazy smirk makes it’s way onto his face when he feels you start to tighten around his thick cock. it feels so damn good, his hips picking up their pace. his heart is pounding in anticipation, knowing that he’d spill the sloppiest load of cum right into your aching pussy.

it's all for him.

just for him.

the groan he lets out against the back of your head is shaky, the rough timbre of it reverberating down his chest. he lowers his head a fraction, until his lips just barely grazed your ear. “y’gonna take it all?”

your mouth falls open, a whirlwind of pleasure blooming in your navel and spreading to every inch of your body. “uh huh!” you pant, brows furrowing as you maintained a steady pace on your clit. “all of it, zo’!”

he grunts in satisfaction, one of his hands gripping onto your hip to keep you in place while he continued to plow into you. "atta girl." his breaths become heavy and ragged, spine curling in a way that allowed his hips to hammer into yours at a deeper angle. "fuckin' take it, babe."

you burst, the coil finally snapping.

a deep moan tears it’s way out of your throat, your cheeks burning with satisfaction and an immeasurable amount of lust towards the demon above you.

your walls flutter and squeeze his cock, each nerve in your body overwhelmed and alight with pleasure. the scent of steel and sake fill your senses, along with the smell of sex. everything is hot and raw, desire presenting itself in its most primitive form.

he follows suit, his whole body seeming to vibrate in total bliss. his cum gets pumped into your womb, cock dragging against your pulsating walls with great fervor. his teeth find purchase on the skin of your shoulder, canines digging into the soft flesh to keep you from squirming.

his thrusts start to even out, his tempo slowing as he rides out his orgasm. his cum coats the inner walls of your cunt, once again claiming you as his and his alone. being dominated by him never failed to make your stomach flip.

he relaxes against you, a low groan tumbling past his chapped lips. not bothering to hold himself above you, he allows his body to rest against yours. his strong chest presses into your back, his breaths heavy against your skin.

a smile graces your features, the full weight of his body serving well to secure you to the present moment. once your wits come crawling back into your head, you let out a sigh and shrug your shoulders.

“okay, zo’, you should get to it.” you hum, chest swirling with delight.

when you try to sit up, you find that you’re anchored to the floor. your brows furrow and your eyes hesitantly open, the rising sun pouring light into the observation room.

“zo’?” you call again, tone a bit more serious. “zoro?”

above you, cock still stuffed into your cunt, the swordsman’s back rises and falls in a steady rhythm. his muscles are pliant, buzzing with lingering bits of ecstasy.

the sound of his soft snores ring in your ears and you huff slightly as you attempt to get his weight off of you.

deciding that it was futile, you simply succumb to him as you always do. his strong heartbeat against your back acted as a grounding force, each thump lulling you further and further into a deep slumber.

in his sleep, he nuzzles his face into the smooth skin of your back and, ever so slightly, the corner of his lips quirk up into a lazy smile.

fuck. he loved mornings with you.

@eelnoiz this is the blurb turned fic i was talkin' about!!

[4ranghaes]

hii!! idk if ur taking reqs but if not feel free to ignore this 🫡

can u do another song fic for sungho? i love how u write for him 😵‍💫😵‍💫 ty and take care!!

song fic!💋

now playing… starburster by fontaines d.c.

park sungho x reader [smut, fem!reader, mdni!!]

warnings: fingering, overstimulation

a/n - this song is actually about having a panic attack but i didnt want a repeat of taesan’s one so i’m applying it to orgasming😁 enjoy!

18:16 - “s-sungho, o-oh my god!” you groaned, voice deep, eyes rolling back in your head as you gripped the sheets beside you.

a cocky smile was plastered on sungho’s face as he sat behind you. his head was resting on your shoulder, his fingers knuckle-deep in your pussy as they worked in and out, feeling the spongy spot as well as massaging your clit.

just 20 minutes ago, you’d told sungho you had been able to make yourself squirt a couple times before, when you were both really horny and multiple orgasms down. now, he’d made it his personal mission to see the skill for real.

you were out of breath, your body slumped against your boyfriends. you could hear his wild breathing in your ear, he himself grunting at the effort he was putting in. you began whining again, approaching your second orgasm.

“s-su-sungho! i’m gonna– god! i-it’s coming!”

“do it, baby,” he commanded, “is this it? do you feel it?”

you shook your head tightly, not feeling the usually build up, then needing to piss sensation. “n-not yet… b-but i can’t—”

you cut yourself off with a loud whine, your body slinging forward before sungho reached out to you with a harsh grip, dragging you back to his body as you rode out your orgasm on his fingers.

he tutted in disappointment, as you were left panting against his chest, your heart rate slowing as you came down from bliss.

“again.”

“sungho, please,” you begged, as he started kissing along the side of your neck, down on your shoulders. his fingers started circling your clit again, your hips bucking up into his hand, your hole clenching around nothing.

“please what, baby?” he muttered, “you know your safe word?”

you nodded quickly, not feeling unsafe, just overstimulated beyond belief, as though your heart could burst at any time from the differences in pace it was being put through.

“good girl,” he murmured, his fingers once again entering your hole, two fingers going in immediately now he knew how loose you were.

his hair was flopping onto your chest, rising and falling rapidly as you - quicker than ever - felt your orgasm already approaching.

“sung-sungho!” you gasped, your voice high as you grabbed ahold of his wrist with one of your hands, the other gripping onto his hair, “t-th– ah! this is it!”

“this is it?” he repeated, a perverted smile spreading across his face as he sped up his thumb on your clit, his fingers inside you pressing hard against your walls.

your nails dug into his wrist, feeling the build up just beyond your walls as your heart sped up to a momentarily-concerning pace, your body hurtling towards orgasm.

“my good girl,” sungho smirked, nibbling on your shoulder, his figure a picture of calm as yours thrashed around, trying to run towards pleasure but yank away from the overstimulation that went with your third orgasm in a row.

you finally came with a high-pitched moan, whimpers leaving your mouth as you felt a gush of liquid cover sungho’s hand and the bed below you. sungho moaned, his cock grinding into you from below. he lifted up your lifeless body, throwing you on the bed so he was staring at your soaked, swollen pussy.

his mouth dropped open at the state of the bedsheets below you. he left soft kisses on your lips, hovering over your body.

“you with me, baby?” he whispered between kisses.

you blinked heavily, nodding slowly.

“good girl,” he hummed, lifting you into his arms to hold you to his chest.

[anticanonsposts]

könig being all shy and not picking up on obvious hints that we want to fuck 😫.

p.s. love your writing girly and i hope you’re doing well ❤️‼️

🫡

nsfw below the cut-mdni!!!

synopsis: you invite him to come over and well...the request happens

cw: p in v, teasing, nsfw-mdni, oral f/m receiving, fingering, palming, lewd and porn with little plot

wc: 1,726

You: do you wanna come over? I need to relax. 

König: Of course. I will be there in 10 :) 

Opening the door to your apartment your boyfriend smiles sheepishly at you and ducks slightly to enter. Bringing his duffle bag with overnight stuff to your room to set it down. He comes out moments later and sits on the couch. Purposely wearing one of his sweatshirts he left at your house and a pair of pj shorts you sit next to him, draping your legs over his thighs. 

“So…do you wanna watch a movie? I know you’ve had a long week and that usually relaxes you?” he asks gently, reaching over you, grabbing the remote, and switches on the tv. 

He busies himself with trying to pick one of your comfort movies while you lean back against the plush pillows behind you and stretch your arms up, stretching your torso out, on display, for him. 

But dude isn’t even watching, he’s just grinning ear to ear because he’s with you. He plays the move and adjusts himself so that he is sitting more comfortably, one of his hands resting on your thigh and the other one one of your calves.

After about 15 minutes of the movie you get bored, and the man is not noticing. Not noticing the way your eyes keep following his, how your legs keep moving against his, or how you keep shimmying down to move your ass impossibly closer to him. So you have to up the effort. So, you sit up and pull your legs towards yourself before moving behind König on the couch. You then start to rub his shoulders which he starts to say you don’t have to but is quickly quieted by how good your hands feel on him. To push it further, you start to drag your nails across the skin of his shoulders and neck as you massage him. After some more time he is still not taking your hints so you start tracing kisses along his neckline, now having your chest completely pressed against his back.

“That feels good Liebeling” is all he fucking says and not even in a sultry voice but in a normal happy one. ‘God dammit’, you think to yourself.

“Here, take your shirt off and lay down König” you say more assertively than you meant to. 

He gives a slight squeak since his attention has been on the movie and does as he’s told. No longer wanting to wait, you immediately straddle him and meet his mouth with yours. He grunts out of surprise with his hands shooting up to your hips. Instantly you start to grind down on his crotch, your core completely purring at this point. 

“y/n?” he says, honestly pretty confused. I mean you said you needed to relax and well this was very physically engaging, and-oh wait. “Oh this is what you meant by relax schatz?” he continues, popping his lips off of yours.

“Jesus König, yes! I’ve been trying to give you hints this entire time!” you say sitting up slightly and laughing at the end of your sentence. 

“Well let’s not waste anymore time then.” he replies, gliding his hands up your sides, under his hoodie, lifting it off of you. Repositioning himself so that he is sitting up against the couch. 

You happily obliged and lifted your arms for him, then quickly stood up to take your shorts off while he unbuckles his belt and shimmies out of his pants. Before climbing back onto him, he holds his arm out and stops you for a moment, his eyes drinking in every part of you. Once he’s done looking, and you’ve situated yourself back on his lap he brings down one of his hands to cup your sex, gliding the heel of his palm against your clit. 

Your hands finding purchase on the sides of his neck, you arch your back so that your chests are pressed together. Lightly nibbling on your bottom lip to bring your face closer to his, he envelopes you once again in a sloppy, greedy slew of kisses. As you guys continue to slobber on each other you make sure to grind down on his hand. His fingers curved just right so that he’s rubbing inside of you while maintaining the friction on your clit. His other arm is snaked around your bottom half moving with your rhythm to further grind you down onto him. After a few minutes of this blissful torture your whines get louder and louder until he says, “ok sweetheart your protests have been heard” chuckling as he gently pulls his mouth away from yours. 

He repositions so that he is laying flat on the couch with you still on top of him. “Here turn around, I would like to taste you from back here.” 

As soon as he says the words your stomach flutters again, funny that this was the thing that made you blush. You two had never really 69-ed before partially because you weren’t sure how it would work with the size difference. Nonetheless you turned your cute butt around and gently rested your knees on either side of his chest, slowly moving yourself towards his face. You were quickly interrupted by his big arms locking around your bottom half from under your thighs and being hauled up to his lips. 

Giving a small squeal that turns into a moan as his lips immediately latch onto your sex. Lewd slurping and groaning sounds coming from the man under you, gripping onto one of his hips with your hand, trying to steady yourself. You gently tried to pull up slightly, being concerned about suffocating him but he just grunts and tightens his grip on your butt, to pull you back down. Swimming in pleasure, you deviously move your dominant hand to grip around his shaft. You start to pump him gently, using his pre-cum as lube. This just elicits more groans from the man below you, more desperately now than ever slurping at you as if you were leaking the elixir of life. 

Now you definitely have to crane your neck slightly to meet his cock with your mouth but when you do it is oh so worth it. As soon as your warm, wet mouth touches his head,  using your tongue to give it small swirls where you know he is most sensitive. His entire body shudders underneath you 

Given the different heights of your torsos you are barely able to get his head in your mouth to suck, but you are able to loosen the vice grip he has on you slightly when you start rocking your body forward and backward, so that you can take more of him into your mouth. 

You pray to whatever higher power that your neighbors can’t hear the absolutely pornographic noises coming from your apartment. Each time you rock your body, noises of sucking and popping and squelching ring through the air as you are pulled off and onto his cock and his mouth unlatches and relatches around your clit. Not to mention the groans, whines, moans, and whimpers that come from you two. 

The knot in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter and König notices by the way your pussy is clenching around nothing. So asserting his strength once again, he completely slides you towards his face, so that you can no longer reach his cock and starts moving his tongue even faster than before. 

“MMmmmm-König fuck oh my god. Fuck I’m gonna cum fuck fuck fuck-” you manage to get out before the band snaps and you are spilling all over his face. His grip never leaves your hips as you cum to the point that you are actually worried if he can breathe. 

Finally, he releases you after hearing your whimpers and pleas of overstimulation. So you shimmy back up his torso and to your surprise he sits up as you do, guiding the soft flesh of your love handles continuing to move you forward.

“I have not cum yet, my darling, do you think you can handle a bit more?” he asks now both of you on your knees, him crouching behind you on the couch. In front of you, you use the arm of the couch and a few pillows to brace yourself. 

“Mmmhhhmmm, make yourself cum with me sweet boy” you reply, turning your head back as if to make eye contact.

If this guy wasn’t blissed out before, the utterance of ‘sweet boy’ pushed him OVER the edge. 

“Oh mein Gott! You're my sweet girl, my dirty girl, my perfect girl.” he mumblings as he presses the head of his cock into your entrance, slowly sinking into you. His lips find purchase on your neck as he bottoms out and starts slow, thrusting movements. 

His arms are braced on either side of your body on the arm of the couch in front of you. The sight and feeling of his body caged around you from behind alone almost made you cum again. But you were brought back to reality with the sweet noises coming out of your boyfriend behind you.

His speed had picked up, arching your back perfectly for him so that he could keep his arms where they were and still be able to thrust and hit that perfect spot inside of you. 

“Oh bitte…bitte, I’m going to cum, I’m close mein liebling, please, c-cum with me” he groans out, snaking one of his hands between your thighs, to rub slow circles on your clit. Using the leverage against that arm, you fuck your hips back onto him, chasing both of your highs. 

Then he lets out the loudest groan of the day, gripping the pillows in front of you, spilling inside of you, as your own orgasm shoots through your body, pussy clenching down around his thick member. 

Once you both stop seeing stars, and your thrusts slow you just rest. His chest pressed up against your back, you both try to catch your breath. 

“See y/n if you wanted to relax like this, you could have just told me.” he says, his lips curling up into a small smirk. Earning a giggle from you he gives a small kiss to your shoulder, both of you continuing with your deep, desperate breaths. 

[bloodibambiidoll]

“Fucking someone so good that they struggle to kiss you back.” w Eddie 🫡

18+MNDI!!

Eddie is sitting up against your headboard, propped up against your excessive amount of soft pillows while you straddle him. You’re riding him fast and hard, your hips are coming almost all the way up to the point that his cock almost leaves you before you’re slamming back down on him again and again. You’ve been fucking him like this for so long now he’s lost track of time. You ride him like your life depends on it, and when he’s just about to tip over the edge and spill inside of you, you stop your movements and simply cock warm him until his oncoming orgasm passes.

“Eddie, baby, kiss me.” Your voice comes out whiny and your breathing is erratic from the way you’re fucking yourself on his cock. You have your hands on his shoulders for leverage and your nails are digging into his skin, leaving little crescent moon shapes.

“Fucking shit, of course, sweet thing. Anything for you, especially when you’re fucking me like this.” Eddie takes your face in his hands, crashing his lips into yours in a desperate needy kiss. You slow your thrusts, letting your weight rest on him while you grind against him. He’s so deep inside you and the tip of his cock is rubbing against your g-stop just right. Every time you roll your hips forward your clit rubs against the corse hair at the base of his cock and it’s all just so good.

He swipes his tongue along your bottom lip and you immediately intertwine it with yours. The kiss is filthy, a mixture of both of your spit dripping down your chins. All tongues and teeth and bumping nose’s. You feel yourself getting close again, but you need more. So you start to pick up the pace again. Your start to slam down onto his cock with fever again, the sounds of your wet pussy and your hips slapping against his fill the room.

Eddie still has your face in his hands, and he’s trying his hardest to keep making out with you, he knows how much you love the feeling of his lips on yours when you tip over the edge. But you’re fucking him at such a brutal pace that his lips keep slipping against yours and your teeth keep clacking together. He pulls away from your lips, kissing the side of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw.

“Eddie, keep kissing me, please, I wanna kiss you.” You sound so desperate, and your thrusts are starting to become more sloppy, your pussy clenches around him and he can tell you’re close.

“Alright baby, I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” He smirks at you before he’s grabbing your thighs and flipping you over. His cock slips out momentarily but he wastes no time slamming back into you and fucking you just as hard as you were fucking him, if not harder.

He uses one hand to grab your thigh, hooking it around his hip. He brings his other hand up to your face, cupping your jaw and connecting his lips with yours. He kisses you as roughly as he’s fucking you, his tongue invading your mouth while he continues to rail into you with his cock.

The hand holding your thigh snakes between your bodies to find your clit, he runs circles on it with his thumb and it all just feels so perfect. He hits that perfect spot inside of you while his tongue dances with yours, and he’s applying the perfect amount of pressure to your sensitive needy clit. You feel your orgasm approaching like a tidal wave, and Eddie feels it too. The way you’re moans turn extra needy against his mouth, the way your pussy clenches around him, how hard you start to pull on the hair at the nape of his neck, are all telltale signs that you’re about to cum.

It only takes a few more thrusts and you’re tipping over the edge, the feeling sending him tumbling right after you. Eddie keeps kissing you while he fucks you both through your highs, his cum filling you in ropes.

“Fuuuuck baby, I love you.” He pulls his lips away from yours so he can look into your eyes, a soft smile on his face.

“I love you too Eddie, so much.” You cup his face in your hands, running your thumbs over his soft stubble covered cheeks.

“I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “My beautiful girl.” Kiss.

[l1tw1ck]

can I request a sam winchester x top male reader, where's he's really needy, that man is so AUGHHH, I just want to take care of him 🫡

bottom Sam x top!masc reader

cw: consensual somnophilia, dry humping, coming in pants, fingering

Sam wakes up sweating with his cock rock hard. He had a really nice dream about you. He turns around and looks at you, sleeping soundly. He doesn't want to wake you up and you've already given him consent to do whatever he wants while you're asleep. His cheeks warm up as he thinks about what you said. How you get turned on when you think about him using your body how he pleases. That thought only makes him needier so he pulls back the covers and seats himself on your lap. Sam starts grinding down on you, breathing like he just finished running a marathon. He moans your name like a broken record. He feels so perverted, getting off by grinding against your sleeping body, but he can't stop himself.

You open your eyes and smile when you realize what's happening. "Does humping my cock feel good, baby?" Your morning voice both startles and arouses him.

"Yes– it feels so good.." Sam moans. "Gonna come..."

"Can I help?" Sam nods. You stick two of your fingers in his mouth and he gladly sucks on them. Once you're satisfied with the amount of saliva on your fingers, you pull them out and pull on the band on the back of Sam's boxers. You gently push your fingers into his puckered hole, already soft from yesterday, one by one. He moans, a string of cum spurting out of his cock. Sam's expression makes him look like a succubus. He whines, the rest of his load painting his grey underwear white. He's still hard.

He looks at you with half lidded eyes. "I..I need more." He tugs on the band of your underwear.

"You know you don't have to ask."

[xozombiee]

SNAP - G. Rhee.

synopsis: night time with glenn in the prison

note: ik a lot of u are craving more glenn. gotta feed my followers🫡

warnings: finger fucking, asphyxiation lowkey…, this mf lowk a sub here, cowgirl, wtf that shit called when u put ur fingers in smb mouth dot dot dot (I NEED TO FEED MYSELF TOO OK)

the prison was dark. nighttime fell a few hours before, prompting everyone to get ready for bed. time had passed since then, so the prison was quiet.

you lay in bed with glenn, his hand was wrapped around your waist as you two slept. except you couldn’t really sleep..i mean, who can when there’s reanimated corpses outside your window?

your body was desperately wanting to re-situate itself after laying on one side for an hour and a half. you pressed your body against glenn’s, rupturing a small groan from him.

“babe? ..are you awake?” you asked him in a hushed voice.

“i am now.” he replied, which was more of a retort than anything.

you continued pressing against him, feeling the length underneath his shorts grow. the warmth of face presses into your neck, making you grin to yourself.

“i’m sorry, baby.” you whisper apologetically, though it wasn’t genuine. your hips moved once more, grinding yourself into him, and he groaned with his nose leaning into your hair.

you felt his hands move from your hips down to your lower stomach. his fingertips slowly pulled your nightgown up, revealing your underwear that rested underneath. your breath hitched in your throat as you felt him give a teasing tug at them.

“can i?” he murmured into your ear. he didn’t even have to elaborate before an eager ‘yes’ fell from your lips. glenn chuckled lowly, his fingers slipping inside the cotton.

two of his digits pressed into you, making you bite down on to your lip to suppress the noises that ruptured. as his hand was busy, the unoccupied one made its way to your throat, grasping it and squeezing it.

“shh..they’ll hear you.”

small, quiet noises rang through your shared cell. you let your eyes roll back a little as his thumb circled your clit, causing you to shutter against him.

the movement of his wrist picked up, soft squelching coming from below you. you could feel his breathing get heavier as his nose nudged your ear.

glenn groaned quietly, “so fucking good to me,”

the knot in your stomach built up soon enough from the soft praise in your ear. his fingers were long, longer than yours. he kept them clean, cut, and pretty for you.

as you continue riding his fingers, he keeps his hand against your throat. his lips graze the underside of your jaw, whispering lowly

“you g’na cum, baby? go ahead.” he cooed.

snap.

you came around his fingers so quickly. he sighed to himself as he felt your cunt flutter around his digits.

his hands removed themselves and found your waist once more, massaging circles into your skin. he watched your breathing even out as you attempted to come back to reality.

after so, you slowly sat up from your side, putting your weight to your knees as you positioned yourself on top of him.

“can i take care of you now, baby?” you asked him, rubbing his shoulders soothingly.

he nodded in reply, but you narrowed your eyes. you moved yourself directly on top of him, making him groan as his cock pulsed. “use your words, honey.”

he squeezed his eyes shut like he was in pain, but really, he was in enjoying it. he whispered a quiet ‘fuck’ before opening them and looking at you again.

“i want you to fuck me.” he pleaded, flashing his puppy dog eyes.

you were taken back by the bluntness of his words, but smiled sweetly. “now was that so hard?” you teased.

you inched toward him, pressing your glossy lips against his neck. as you marked him, your hand traveled down against his pajama shorts, feeling the outline of his length.

glenn let out a breathy moan into the air, but soon pressed his hand over his mouth after quickly realizing that others could hear him. you chuckled at him, tracing your fingers back up to reach the waistband of his pants. you pulled them up, dipping your hand into his underwear.

your fingertips circled the tip of his dick, making him shudder underneath you. a quiet ‘fuck’ and ‘good god’ were thrown around as you started pumping him slowly.

it only took him a minute or two before he was begging you to stop, wanting to finish inside you. you kiss below his ear then to his lips before you comply, slowly removing your underwear.

glenn’s eyes watch you. they’re wide and his pupils are blown from almost spewing a daycare into your palm. you climb back to your previous position, hips aligning with his before you slowly sink down.

taking a moment to adjust to him, you cradle his cheek into your palm, rubbing his flushed face with your thumb. you innocently clench around him for a reaction, watching him squeeze his eyes shut.

a small smile graces your lips, “so cute.”

he huffs at you, rolling his eyes. a small giggle falls from you, and he hisses at the vibrations that sent to his cock.

once you’re well adjusted, you slowly pull your hips upward before sinking back down. this process continues, making glenn’s fists bundle up your silk nightgown to your waist.

you leaned down, arms caging his head. “fuck..”

you look up at glenn, watching his eyes shine in the moonlight. “open your mouth for me, baby.” you whisper to him.

he complies, opening his mouth for you. with a smirk, you take two of your fingers and place them onto his tongue. “suck,”

glenn obeys, wrapping his lips around your pretty fingers. you feel his mouth play around your digits slowly. you speed up, feeling that high coming in once again.

“cum, baby,” you demand through your soft voice. it was all he needed to let go of the uncomfortable feeling within him.

the both of you release, your body trembling on top of his. the fingers in glenns mouth muffle the cry from him. a few beats go by before you remove yourself from him, laying back beside him where you once were.

“you satisfied now?”

a/n: this was so embarrassing and lazily written what the flip

k gonna disappear for 5 months again :3

(also dgaf if theres spelling mistakes)

[cheolhub]

sar baby 😻 light of my life, HAPPY ONE YEAR! I COULD NOT BE MORE PROUD OF YOU!!

now business: can i have juyeon with the prompt “that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me.” 👹

6:10 p.m. — lee juyeon

prompt. “that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me.”

wc. 1.6k [srsly idk how to write a drabble under 1k]

warnings. switch!juyeon, switch!reader, needy juyeon, heavy praise, several uses of good boy, pet names [baby], unprotected sex, creampie, kinda messy sex? – MINORS DNI 18+

note. keir, my angel, my bff <# thank u so so much! u know i for sure would’ve deleted this account if you hadn’t been here to keep me grounded (as u always do.) i love u more than u will ever know & i will forever thank the universe for bringing u 2 me 🤬!! & THANK YEWWW FOR REQUESTING OUR BELOVED, SLUTTY JUYO! i hope u like it (not proofread bc u usually do that for me hahah)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ join the birthday bash!  ࿐ྂ

p.s. this is my first tbz work… plz be gentle 🫡

you swear greed will be lee juyeon’s downfall. gluttonous and insatiable, the crazed, unhinged man cannot keep his hands off of you for the life of him. 

you think he’d die if he went a half day without touching you, kissing you, fucking you– that, or he’d die from the lack of attention.

it’s almost concerning. almost… sometimes, you can’t be bothered to care when it feels like you’re on cloud nine every time he puts his hands on you. 

but sometimes, you are bothered by it. 

“baby, i’m busy,” you mumble, typing away at your laptop. you’re hyper focused on the work document in front of you, the blue light straining your eyes. “just give me a little.”

he’s standing behind your chair with his arms crossed, a small pout etched into his lips. 

“you said you’d be done by 6? it’s 6:10…” he sulks and you crack a smile, spinning your chair around to look at your pouty boyfriend. 

you grin, “what, are you timing me now, juyeon?” 

he sighs dramatically, “‘course ‘m not, but you promised me you wouldn’t be working past 6.” 

“i have to get this spreadsheet done before tomorrow morning, baby. and i would’ve gotten it done this morning if a certain someone didn’t beg me to stay in bed with them.” you joke lightly, “do you want me to get fired or something?” 

the frown on his face deepens as the smile on yours spreads. “you know i don’t… i just miss you.” he sighs, dropping his arms by his sides. “feels like i haven’t seen you in hours. tired of you doing work when you can be doing other things worthy of your time. like me, for example.” 

you reach out, taking his hands into yours. “two. you lasted two hours, juyeon.”

“two hours too long.” he whines softly and you can’t help but find him so endearing. “baby, please, just… just take a break.”

he doesn’t wait for you to object, pulling you up to your feet and dragging you back into your bedroom and you groan, knowingly. you’re not getting that damn spreadsheet done until he’s fucked himself to sleep.

“you have to be quick, juyo. i wanna finish my work before it’s too late to order takeout.” you tell him as he tugs you, to which he mumbles a ‘yeah, yeah.’ it’s obvious he has no intention of acting in accordance with your wishes. 

because when you’re in your room, he pulls you in for a desperate kiss. he moans into your mouth as his hands squeeze your hips and pull you so you’re flush against his body. you feel his hard cock through the thin material of his shorts when he grinds into you. 

you pull back with a breathy giggle, “baby, how are you already hard?”

“i’ve been hard for an hour now.” he huffs, gripping you tighter. he lowers his voice till it’s just barely above a whisper, “kept thinkin’ ‘bout how… how you called me your good boy… and how you told me how good my cock made you feel. looked so pretty and you felt so fucking good, baby. wanna feel you around me again. need to.”

you let out a sharp breath, mind wandering back to the long hour he had your ankles resting on his shoulders this morning. your cunt pulses as you remember how he fucked you so nice and so deep while you brainlessly babbled out praise. most of it being incoherent comments about his perfect cock. 

curse lee juyeon and his dick for turning you on when it shouldn’t.

he groans, digging himself into your clothed tummy. “gonna let me fuck you, yeah?”

you moan softly, arousal probably soaking through your shorts with how wet you are. “as long as you’re quick, then you can, baby.”

he nods mindlessly, but he’s ignoring that request again. 

he leisurely shimmies your shorts and panties off and then his own shorts– he has on nothing underneath and you wish you could say you were surprised– before guiding you onto the bed. he towers over you, repeatedly slapping the head of his cock against your clit and laughing softly as you moan and jerk underneath him. 

you huff at his taunting, “stop that,”

he feigns innocence with a faux pout, “stop what?”

two can play at that game.

 “juyeon?” you jut your bottom lip out, “you wanna be my good boy, don’t you?” 

it’s like a flip switches on inside of him. he’s left breathless, nodding his head eagerly like a puppy, pulling his cock away from your clit.

“good. now fuck me and be quick. i’m not gonna tell you again.” you command, voice rigid and unforgiving. 

he doesn’t protest, he doesn’t complain, instead he obliges without an ounce of hesitation. he lines himself up with your entrance– where you clench around absolutely nothing– pushing the tip of his cock into you slowly. 

you inhale sharply, the air in your lungs fleeing quickly as you feel your walls stretch to accommodate his size. you have to tell your body to relax at the sudden invasion, unclenching so he can push himself in deeper. 

“baby,” he moans, throwing his head back. “you’re so fucking tight. oh, fuck–”

“j-just keep moving, juyo, i can take it.” you manage to tell him, voice cracking ever so slightly towards the end of your sentence. 

you whimper softly when he bottoms out. his cock fills you like no other and the thought has you clamping around him, walls molding to his shape just as they’re meant to. 

juyeon pulls out with a whine and pushes back into you slowly. you’re sure he’s doing it for his own sake. any faster and your poor, pent-up baby is going to cum embarrassingly quick. 

but you have other things you need to do, so this needs to go at your preferred pace.

“go faster, baby,” you say airly. 

he reluctantly speeds up, giving you deep, precise thrusts. he lodges his bottom lip between his perfectly straight teeth attempting to bite back the ridiculously needy sounds his body wants to expose. 

and you notice, letting out a giggly moan. “that’s it, baby. you’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” you coo at him.

juyeon gasps, releasing his lip so a broken moan can slip past them, his cock twitching uncontrollably inside of you. 

you hum in delight, “hmmm, that really does make you hard, huh?” you ask rhetorically. “i can feel you pulsing inside of me.”

and you can. he’s throbbing in between your walls like he’s about to bust inside of you and it’s filling you with the utmost joy. when you’d met juyeon forever and a year ago, you wouldn’t have thought he’d be so easy to reduce to a mess. you’re not complaining, though. not when he sounds so pretty cursing and moaning for you like a cute bitch in heat. 

“fuh-fuck, again– please, s-say it again.” he begs, eyes pleading and eyebrows knit together. 

you moan softly, willing to give him everything he wants. “cock feels so good. you’re fucking me so good, juyeon. you’re such a good boy.” you needily place your hand between your thighs, right above where his cock meets your messy cunt. your fingers quickly find your clit, rubbing at the swollen bud in tandem with his now-erratic thrusts. “my good boy.”

you clench around him as the words tumble out of your mouth and juyeon’s eyes nearly roll. he cries out needily, “close. ‘m close, baby–”

you rub your clit faster and squeeze him tighter, mewling out your reply. “cum for me, baby. cum inside me ‘n fill me up.”

he whines, pounding into your harder and harder before his thrusts cease and he’s pressed deep inside of you. his warm seed spills, coating your walls as he lets out a long, drawn out groan of pleasure. 

he wants to collapse, but he knows you haven’t gotten off. 

so before he can completely come down from his high, juyeon resumes his thrusts. you feel his release spill every time he pulls out of you and it’s messy. a sloppy, wet noise sounds every time his balls slap against your cum coated cunt. 

juyeon is surely overstimulated. you can tell by the babbles of him begging you to cum and the rolling of his eyes and the whimpers and mewls that are driving you absolutely feral underneath him. 

you don’t last much longer after that, body jolting as you feel the tightrope in the pit of your tummy snap. your walls envelope his cock into a tight hug as you completely release over him. you cry with his name dying on your tongue, the earth-shattering orgasm washing over you. 

he has to force himself to stop fucking you. tears brim in his eyes right before he collapses on top of you, his cock slipping out of your worn pussy. every nerve ending in his body feels like they’ve been electrified and he can’t help but twitch and pant on top of you. 

you grunt with his weight on you, “juyo, you okay?” you ask breathily. 

“mmm,” he moans in response. he’s fine.

you smile, running your hands through his hair. “you’re gonna let me go back to work now, right? i gave you your fix, so you should be good for at least another two hours. i should be done before then, though.”

he groans, “i dont want you to work.”

“i know you don’t–”

“so stay here with me.”

you huff, “how many times do i have to let you fuck me before you’ll let me work?”

he pulls up and smiles cheekily at you, eyes still a bit dazed. “maybe… three times. or four.”

you scoff, “you are such a piece of work.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[14dayswithyou]

thigh riding Moth- I mean thigh riding moth i mean- thigh riding moth i mean-

ill go ahead and see myself out 🫡

✦゜ANSWERED: heh heh horf >:3 NSFW under the cut!!

"You make the cutest sounds." Their breath is hot against your ear as one of Moth's hands rests against your hip to guide your movements. "I could listen to you aaaall day."

Their words do little to soothe the ache slowly building up inside you — unlike the pleasure you got from grinding yourself against the material of their jeans. But just when it starts to feel good, Moth tauntingly pulls away with a teasing grin on their face.

"What do you need?" As if wanting to feel more of you, Moth pulls you closer to their chest and rests their forehead on your shoulder. "Less touching? More friction?"

A breathy 'please' leaves your lips as you shamelessly grind against your partner's thigh, though they make no attempt to help soothe your ache. Instead, Moth peers up at you with a soft smile and a glint in their eyes.

"Actually... I dunno, love bug. You did interrupt my plans for the evening with your neediness..." Despite their bluff, Moth's tone showed no signs of malice or disappointment. You knew they were only teasing — and had you not been so preoccupied with chasing that high yourself — you surely would've quipped back with a bratty retort of your own.

But alas, you could do little but be at the mercy of Moth's guiding touch as they lean back in their gamer chair to watch you come undone.

"I mean, I was looking forward to reading more about Navier and Heinley tonight... Buuuut someone decided to crawl into my lap and turn my phone off instead." One of Moth's hands glides along your backside in a soothing manner before they finally angle their knee upwards to give you more surface to rut against. "How could I say no to something so tempting?"

Moth's other hand slides up and down your bare thigh as their soft lips brush against the shell of your ear, sending a chill down your spine. Their hand slowly inches closer and closer to the place you needed the most before—

"How about we make a deal, then? If you can keep still until I finish this chapter, then I'll let you cum on my fingers instead."

[silentscrying]

🎸 out of my mind ! 💿 track four: a conflict of interest

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

warnings: language, MIDTERMS, alcohol, PTSD/trauma, panic attack, naoya, discussion of car crash (not directly described), mention of deceased parent, literal wholesome sleeping together. || sfw. 8.4k words.

YOU’VE ALWAYS LOVED fall—the sharp, cool note that tacks itself onto the breeze, the crunch of leaves beneath the wheels of your longboard, the early sunsets over the shapes of the campus skyline. Usually, a week this beautiful would find you outside enjoying it. But for the same reason that you haven’t gotten Takuma alone since Saturday, you’ve been cooped up indoors, frying your brain.

The problem is midterms.

The week is a blur of class and homework and reporting and rehearsals, and you hardly ever see Takuma, or really anyone outside of your classes and rehearsals, save for the brief comings and goings of your housemates at strange hours of the day. You’re all drowning in work, and any wish you have of talking to Takuma without the rest of his band present washes itself away in an avalanche of assignments and emails and post-it note to-do lists all over your desk.

When you see him with Megumi and Yuji and Kirara, the both of you dance around all the things you want to say. Because you have to. You don’t have time to flesh this out, put a label on it.

You and Toge spend hours wrapping up your project story. Your comp midterm is eight to nine double-spaced pages of hell, excluding citations, and on top of it you’re balancing media law case studies and your elective comparative lit class.

And this is one of your lighter semesters.

Your housemates don’t have it any easier, Yuta and Maki wrapped up in senior capstone proposals, Nobara grinding her way through the rest of her gen. eds and practicing marketing presentations in the mirror, even Toge scrambling to get work done.

Between cramming and writing and squeezing naps in wherever you can, you and Takuma orbit around the unspoken truth of your kiss on the roof, borderline flirty but never crossing that line. Not over the phone.

you: how goes the algorithming you: or whatever the fuck takuma: I’M DYING takuma: KM GOING CROSSEYED takuma: havent touched grass in days. eons even you: :( same you: we’ll touch grass when this is over takuma: if it snows i will literally dig it up for you istg

You laugh despite yourself, sighing as you lean back in your desk chair, looking out the window. God, you want to kiss this boy again. Fuck school, fuck your busy schedules. Christ, you can’t believe it’s only Wednesday.

you: aw for me takuma: anything for you🫡

It shouldn’t make you blush so furiously in the privacy of your own room, but it does.

A soft knock on the doorframe draws your attention, and you spin in your chair to find Yuta leaning there. His dark hair is a mess, like he’s just taken off a hat, and his cheeks are red with the bite of cold air. He must’ve just gotten home.

“Yuta!”

“Hey.” He grins, holds up his phone so you can see the time. “You eaten yet?” It’s a rhetorical question. You shake your head, recognizing the call to action for what it is, and close your laptop, joining him at the doorway. You need a break, anyway—you just wrapped up a draft of a paper, and you need to do something else before you look it over with fresh eyes.

“Wanna make stir fry?” you ask, and Yuta lights up.

“Read my mind.”

The kitchen is cast in gold as the sun sinks over the rooftops, and you smile at the little hello, my name is stickers on Yuta’s plants in the windowsill. As the two of you grab bowls and pans and ingredients from the fridge, you realize you haven’t really spent one-on-one time with him in a while. You’ve missed it.

“We haven’t done this in forever,” you say, tossing a green pepper over your shoulder. He catches it with one hand and puts it on the cutting board.

“I know,” he laughs, gentle in the same way that everything Yuta does is gentle, and you’re suddenly struck with the horrible thought of how much you’re going to miss him next year. “I feel like we haven’t had any one-on-one time recently. But I’ve been meaning to, uh… well, I should thank you, for giving me that time with Maki. I don’t know that I’d have made a move if not for you.”

“So you’re the one who made the move?” You grin, elbowing him fondly. “Maki wasn’t very forthcoming with the details.”

“I wouldn’t say I made the first move,” he admits. “I started making dinner, and then she started scribbling on something over by the plants. And I was so confused, and then I realized she’d bought these.” He gestures to the plant name tags, a fond smile on his face. Half the handwriting is Yuta’s loopy scrawl, and the other half is Maki’s more jagged counterpart. “She knew all their names. Which is crazy. Sometimes I barely remember.”

You move to the cutting board and start on the peppers while Yuta fires up the stovetop. “That’s sweet,” you say. “You guys are good together. I’ve only been waiting for like, an entire year.”

Yuta chuckles and looks over his shoulder at you. “I asked how she remembered all the names and she said something along the lines of did you know people actually listen when you talk, and I’ve never been particularly good at hiding my facial expressions.” You snort, because you know that better than anyone. “And then I said Toge definitely doesn’t, and she rolled her eyes and said I kept missing the point.”

“Oh, smooth.” You move over so Yuta can reach into the cabinet above you for the seasoning. “And then you asked what the point is?”

“Mhm.” Yuta hip-checks you lightly as he moves back to his place by the stove, and you relish the familiarity of it. He’s one of your best friends, and you’ve missed doing this with him, cooking with him, talking to him. “She said the point is I’m an oblivious dumbass who should just shut up and kiss her already. So I did.”

You have to put the knife down as your laugh bursts out, shaking your shoulders, because that’s the most Maki thing you’ve ever heard. “And you’re together now?”

“Mhm.” Yuta flushes a little. “She’s great. I wasn’t really gonna say anything… ever? She’s out of my league, Skip.”

It should maybe feel like a bigger deal that Maki and Yuta are finally a thing, but in a way, it’s like nothing has changed. They’ve always been close, and you’ve always known they’re perfect for each other. It felt inevitable, and now it’s happened, and it feels right.

“You’re both out of everyone’s league,” you correct, turning to lean against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest. “And neither of you think you deserve each other, which is exactly why you do.” He smiles, shy and small, and your heart warms in your chest. “I’m happy for you, Yuta.”

“Thanks.” He ducks his head a little, his tell-tale sign of embarrassment, like when Takuma scratches the back of his neck. God, why does everything remind you of Takuma?

Like he can read your mind, Yuta says, “Your turn. You and Ino? I know everyone’s in the loop except me.”

The next half hour or so passes with you explaining the details of your night with Takuma yet again, the smell of stir fry eventually drawing Toge out from the cave (his and Yuta’s bedroom) around the same time Nobara sweeps through the door with Maki in tow. It’s the first time the five of you have been in the same room outside of rehearsals all week.

“Ooh, my god,” Nobara sighs, smelling the stir fry. “That’s the good shit. I owe you my life.”

“You can do the dishes,” you suggest, and she deflates as she unwinds the scarf around her neck and tosses it on a hook with her coat.

“I’ve made a fatal mistake,” she says.

“How’re midterms?” Maki asks as she brushes past you, tossing her jacket onto a chair, and you shrug. In response, Toge puts his head face-down on the counter, and Maki looks to Yuta, waiting for his answer. It’s like they don’t know how they’re supposed to interact in front of you all, now that the whole band knows.

“You don’t have to dance around each other anymore,” Nobara points out, blunt as ever. “We’ve watched you do that for years. I honestly think I’d rather watch you be gross.”

Toge raises a brow. “Careful what you wish for.”

“Let’s break the ice! Let’s talk about it!” Nobara crows, grabbing you by the elbow. “Reenactment, Skip. You be Yuta.” She leans dramatically over the plants, pretending to write on the name tag stickers. “This one is Pikachu.” Yuta definitely does not have a plant named Pikachu. “You’re an obtuse asshole, Yuta Okkotsu,” Nobara says in a truly horrendous impression of Maki, turning around and grabbing you by the shoulders. “Now kiss me.”

“Oh my god,” Maki says flatly. “I hate you.”

“She didn’t call me an asshole!” Yuta says indignantly.

Maki nudges him with a shoulder, which is probably the closest thing to PDA you’ll get out of them for weeks. Nobara’s teasing will only make them less willing to show affection in front of the rest of you. Maybe it’s reverse psychology and that is what she wants.

“Table,” Yuta says, pointing to Toge. “Nobara, go sit in the corner and think about your actions. Maki, could you grab the plates?”

“Girlfriend privilege!” Nobara cries, not making any move to listen to Yuta. She grins at you and you can’t help but smile back. She’s being obnoxious about it, but she also held in her teasing about their relationship for ages until they figured it out on their own. You know she’s just as happy for them as you are.

“You better keep Ino away from this one,” Maki says as she dishes up the stir fry and slides the plates across the counter to Toge, who ferries them over to the table without complaint. Nobara wiggles her brows at you in a way that very obviously says you can try, but you will fail.

When the five of you crowd the little table in the makeshift dining room, it’s honestly the most relaxed you’ve felt all week. For an hour it’s just you and your best friends, talking and ranting and joking and eating some damn good stir fry, and you can forget about all the work piling up on your desk and the boy down the street you desperately need to talk to and the performance in two days that’ll decide your band’s fate. It’s good.

You grin at Nobara as she gestures with her hands while telling a story about this girl in her marketing class, at Toge trying and failing to steal the snap peas from Yuta’s plate, at Maki fondly watching it all unfold.

Despite her earlier complaints, Nobara doesn’t hesitate to get started on the dishes, and Toge dries while you sit at the stool by the counter and chat with them. Nobara shoves a plate at Toge to try and he nearly drops it onto one of the plants, earning him a look from Yuta very reminiscent of a parent scolding their child.

"Sorry, Snorlax," Toge says to the plant he nearly attacked. "Hey, these are helpful, actually. Good job, Maki."

You stare at the name tags, something starting to grow in the back of your mind. Hello! My name is...

"Yes," you breathe. And then you launch out of your seat and grab your notebook from the other room.

You have an idea.

—

You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, spinning a drumstick in your right hand as The Cull wraps up their ten-decibels-too-loud set onstage. Waiting in the wings, Hakari and another stage tech linger by your kit, waiting to swap it out, and the rest of your band goes through their usual pre-performance rituals.

Maki leans against the wall, eyes closed, moving her fingers along her bass without making any sound. Yuta’s quietly checking his tuning for the thousandth time tonight. Nobara does laps around the backstage area, humming and mouthing words to herself, her guitar carefully leaning against the wall beside you.

Toge is straight up just dancing to the other band’s music in the corner.

And you’re here, spinning your sticks between your thumb and index finger, index and middle, middle and ring, ring and pinky, back again. Back and forth, back and forth, the worn wood dancing across your knuckles.

Midterms are over. Projects and papers are turned in, exams are taken, laptops are strewn forgotten across the living room for the weekend. All your attention is here and now, Friday at The Fix, Battle of the Bands. Lifeblood might be a good word for it, you think, whatever this kind of rush is to you. It’s electric.

The Cull finishes with a screeching of guitars and a held-out note that could very possibly be classified as a scream, and then Panda takes the stage, the techs start moving, and the other band files past you in the backstage area.

You nod as they slip by and they return the gesture, not seeming all that interested, but you don’t care. It’s time.

Sliding onto the throne, you adjust the hi-hat and pound the kick a few times. Nobara winks at you from center stage, and you make eye contact with each of your bandmates in turn, confirming they’re tuned and plugged in and ready to go.

And then you launch into your new song, unable to help the smile spreading across your face.

It begins with a drum solo, a mild rhythm on the floor tom. You add the kick, then move to hat, and Maki comes in, then Toge, then the guitars. And then Nobara leans forward and starts to sing.

“You’re in the corner watchin’, at the party, Solo cup in hand. I’m on the dance floor, one more wild girl who needs a place to land.” You glance out over the crowd, stage light blinding you from your position toward the back of the stage. You can’t see shit, but it’s like you can feel his eyes on you.

“Been goin’ solo, flying so low, meet your eyes and draw you close.” Nobara yanks the mic off the stand and belts,“You ask my name, I tap your chest, and I say you already know!”

Power chord, two big beats, one, two, three, crash—

“Hello, my name is everything you ever asked your gods about. Hello, my name is somebody who needs a guy to take me out…”

The music washes over you, thrums from the soles of your sneakers to the tips of your fingers, gets you high on spotlights and amp feedback. You wrote this song about a lot of things. On a surface level, it’s Maki and Yuta’s song, drawn from the name tags on the kitchen plants. But on another level, it’s about Takuma, and you know your whole band knows it.

“Hello, hello, my name is yours if you want it,” Nobara finishes, and you finish with two cymbal hits and a kick, grabbing the cymbals between thumb and index finger immediately after to mute them. It’s a sharper finish than a lot of your songs, punchier, and it feels good.

“We’re Cursed Technique!” Nobara shouts, and Yuta plucks a few strings as he retunes for one of your older tracks. The set goes by all too fast, and then you’re finishing with Next Fix, the beat under your hands familiar and automatic. You’re on my mind at two a.m., you help me find deliverance, I think it’s time I get my fix.

You’d stay here forever if you could, just making music with your favorite people, but your set ends and you have to retreat backstage, Black Flash passing you in the wing as they prepare to round out the night.

“That was awesome,” Kasumi Miwa whispers as she passes you, and you grin.

“You’ll be awesome.”

When Mai appears around the corner, she stops short. You glance at Maki and realize Yuta’s hand is on the small of her back, and Mai has zeroed in on it. Yuta looks like he’s about to pass out, his hand frozen a half-inch away from Maki’s back like he doesn’t know if it’s better or worse to let go, but Maki seems entirely unfazed.

Instead of addressing Maki, though, Mai looks right at Yuta, a slender brow raised in an expression you aren’t quite sure how to interpret. On Maki, it would be teasing, but on Mai it could be a challenge or a threat or a judgment just as easily.

But she only says, “Thought you were gonna take that to your grave, Okkotsu. Been long enough.” She breezes past all of you without another word, and Yuta stares at the place where she stood only moments before, slack-jawed.

Maki shrugs. “Well, that’s that.” The sound of tuning instruments floats back from the stage and Maki starts moving, looking confused when Yuta doesn’t immediately follow. “What?”

“She—what?” Yuta gapes, and Nobara and Toge catch up to you, herding you backstage.

“I can never tell how mad you two are at each other,” you tell Maki.

“We’re bonded by mutual hatred of our own family. We have an understanding,” she shrugs. “She approves of Yuta. I don’t give a shit. If she didn’t, I still wouldn’t give a shit.”

Sometimes you’re very, very glad you have no relatives at this school.

Maki elbows Yuta lightly and he seems to relax, shrugging off the interaction with Mai.

“On another note!” Nobara chirps. “That was fucking awesome.”

And then you hear, of all things, a trumpet coming from the direction of the stage. It’s a very recognizable riff.

Black Flash is covering September.

“What the fuck?” Toge asks. He holds up a hand and darts back to the wing, peeking out on stage. When he returns, his brows have shot up, mouth open like a fish. “Muta has a trumpet. Muta’s playing a trumpet. Since when does he know trumpet? What the fuck?”

“Miwa. Guaranteed,” Nobara says. “Momo’s been trying to get him to learn for years, but he wouldn’t even be in that band if Miwa wasn’t there.” She grins. “I bet Momo was so mad when he finally did it only ‘cause Miwa asked.”

“They sound straight out of a damn recording,” you murmur, craning your neck as if that’ll help you hear better. “They’re fucking good, guys.” Part of you wants to slip out into the crowd just to see them perform. These guys really have their art down to a science, as little sense as that might make, and you can’t help appreciating it.

They segue into a new song with a wild sax solo that you know to be Momo’s, and Nobara grabs you by the hand and twirls you around backstage, some jazzy movement with no real choreography. We’re going to lose, you think idly, but you understand why. There’s something infectious in this music.

Even Maki and Yuta can’t stand still once they’ve put their instruments away, and eventually the five of you are jumping around like a bunch of idiots as Black Flash closes out their set with an explosive series of riffs and chords, and the crowd’s cheering floods the place, all the way to backstage.

You hear Panda’s voice, or more so the bass-heavy sound of him speaking into a microphone, and you only really catch voting.

“Sweet democracy,” Toge says. “I pledge allegiance—”

“How about don’t?” Maki drawls.

Toge nods. “My bad. I’m supposed to be loyal to the queen now, anyway.” Maki’s brows furrow, but she must decide it’s not worth questioning, because she turns away and starts talking to Nobara.

Has anyone actually told Toge the queen is dead?

This time around, ten minutes feels all too short, and suddenly you’re on the stage again, Black Flash at your left and The Cull on their other side. Panda is in front of you all, mic in hand, the results on his phone.

“We have literally never had a vote this close,” he says, and the crowd draws in a collective breath. “The difference between first and second place was two votes.”

“Shit,” Nobara breathes out beside you, so soft nobody else could possibly hear. Two votes. That’s fucking insane.

“But we do have a winner,” Panda says, “and the band moving on to the finals next week is…”

This time, there’s too much attention on your band for Maki to make a comment about Panda’s dramatic pause. In the quiet, somebody shouts, “Woo, girl drummer!” and it sounds an awful lot like Kirara. You smile sheepishly.

Maybe you made it. This was definitely your best performance yet, and the crowd seemed to love the new song—

“Black Flash!” Panda shouts, and your stomach twists a little even as you smile and whoop for the winners. The stage explodes in movement as your band and The Cull converge on the members of the reigning Battle of the Bands champions, congratulating them.

“Amazing set,” you tell Kasumi earnestly. Deep down, you knew you didn’t have much of a chance against them. Still, you’d hoped.

You think you catch Maki muttering, “Y’know, not bad,” to Mai, but you could be wrong.

After you slip backstage, Panda catches up to you. “Y’all were second,” he tells Nobara. “Just thought you should know. That was real close.”

Part of you is immensely gratified that you beat The Cull. That you came that close to kicking Black Flash out of their championship spot. You’re bummed, but honestly? It’s enough for you.

And now Shibuya Incident and Black Flash will compete in the finals, just like last year. Takuma’s got a chance to dethrone them.

After locking up the drum kit in the back storage room (which Shoko blessedly lets you use free of charge), you head out to the floor. Toge splits off to talk to someone from a comm class, Nobara beelines for Yuji and Megumi, and you figure Maki and Yuta are being antisocial in a corner somewhere. It doesn’t take long for Takuma to find you.

“Skipper!” You turn to find him grinning at you, and you can’t help but mirror the expression. “That was amazing. That song was amazing, you were amazing. I mean, are. You are amazing.” His hand drifts up to the back of his neck, and part of you wants to reach out an intercept it, tangle your fingers in his. But you hold yourself back.

“Thanks,” you beam.

“Man. You should’ve won,” Takuma says earnestly, squeezing your shoulder. You took off your bomber jacket before the show—drumming is already a lot of movement, but the stage lights make you sweat—so his fingers skim the place where your T-shirt sleeves end and your bare skin begins, sending a spike of electricity down your spine. “You kicked their asses in my book.”

There’s that warmth again, flowering in your chest cavity. Even when his hand falls from your arm, the impression of his touch stays there.

“They were good,” you say, conceding defeat. He shrugs, like whatever you say, and you’re about to finally ask him if you can talk in private when Yuji materializes out of nowhere, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

“Dude!” he crows, slinging an arm around your shoulder so aggressively that you nearly stumble, laughing. This kid does not know his own strength. “That was so good. So good. You should’ve won. That was insane. The new song?”

“That’s what I said,” Takuma says, raising a brow at you, and you’re flushing again.

“Ino, we’re getting Taco Bell,” Yuji says. You plaster on a smile when he turns to look at you, like you haven’t been going out of your mind the entire week needing to be alone with Takuma. “You want anything?”

Yuji’s not trying to interrupt anything. Poor guy just wants Taco Bell. You stifle a sigh. “Nah, I’m good.” You catch Maki’s eye from the other side of the room, and she waves you over. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Hey, you should come over later,” Takuma says before you can turn away. “Gotta catch me up on your midterms. I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”

Yes. There it is. Exactly what you need.

“That sounds great,” you say honestly. “Call me when you guys get back?”

He gives you a two-fingered salute with a grin that makes your heart stutter a little. “Yes, ma’am.”

—

Nobara mourns the loss the whole way home, but by the time Maki pulls into the driveway she seems to have gotten all her feelings out and is back to her determined we’ll-get-it-next-year self. The guys drove separately with all the guitars piled in the backseat, and they beat you home.

You’ve just sat down on the couch and kicked off your shoes when your phone buzzes, a familiar but unexpected name floating across the screen.

INCOMING CALL: TSUMIKI FUSHIGURO

You slide to accept the call, waving at the boys to quiet down. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Tsumiki says, in that tone of voice that means she’s running on multitasking business mode. A low, static humming in the background tells you she’s calling from the car. “So, there was some kind of accident on 34th a couple blocks down from the science complex. I know you’re on features, but Yuki’s out of town and most of the freelancers are younger and haven’t done breaking yet. Are you busy? I can try the sophomores if you can’t, or I can go, but I’m just coming from work and I might take too long—”

You’re already grabbing your bag and your board, mouthing newspaper to Yuta and Toge, who are giving you curious looks as they dig through the movie collection under the TV. The intersection’s not far from your place at all, or from The Fix, for that matter. Yuki’s the news editor, and if she’s out, it makes more sense for someone who’s already done breaking to go. Time is of the essence with these sorts of briefs. “On it, don’t worry,” you say, pushing out the front door and waving to Maki and Nobara on the way. “Photog?”

“Yeah, I’m calling around after this. I’ll get someone there. God, thank you, you’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem. Call you when I’m done.” You hang up and shove your phone into your back pocket as you careen down the street, headed toward the spot Tsumiki mentioned. Now that midterms are over and you’re free of your academic obligations, you can actually take the time to savor the cool night air and crunch of freshly fallen leaves under your wheels. Hopefully the crash isn’t too bad—Tsumiki didn’t seem incredibly worried, but it’s likely she was operating on very little information.

It doesn’t take long for you to hear the commotion, and you round the corner to see a few cop cars blocking off the crash site on the side of the road.

The second you’re close enough to see past the officers and their cars, your heart plummets.

It’s a red Hyundai.

Smoke billows out from beneath the hood, but the other car’s got it worse, the passenger side smashed in. The way it’s positioned—it shouldn’t have even been possible, unless the other car was genuinely driving in the wrong lane.

“No,” you breathe, kicking your board up and running, and then you’re flashing your press card at a campus policeman—he tries to get you to stop anyway, but there’s no way he’s catching you now—and you’re sprinting to the wrecked car, heart shouting in your chest. You see Yuji first, trying to brush off a concerned-looking Megumi, and then a pair of cops approaching them, and another cop arresting someone—shit, you know him, what’s his name? Naoya, that’s Maki’s dickwad cousin—probably the driver of the other vehicle, but where’s Takuma, where—

When you skid around the far side of the car, Kirara giving you a surprised look, you see him leaning up against the tree. He’s sitting on the grass, one leg pulled up to his chest and the other stretched out in front of him, his forehead resting on his knee. His shoulders are shaking, his hat’s on the ground, Kirara is beside him talking lowly and glaring at anyone who tries to get near him—

Until she sees you.

“Thank god,” she breathes. She doesn’t ask why you’re here. She just guides you to sit down in front of Takuma. “Can you—”

“Is he hurt?”

“No, I don’t think so, he’s just—”

“Got it.”

She backs off to give you space, and then you’re on the ground, knees in the grass in front of Takuma. Panic attack, PTSD episode, whatever it is, you’ve dealt with these before. You remember the roof, his quiet voice, explaining what happened to his dad, how he was in the car, how he hates driving because of it. You’d bet anything Takuma thinks he’s back there.

“Kuma,” the nickname slips out before you even realize it. He jerks and looks up at you, shock and confusion written all over his face. He’s full-on trembling, and your heart shatters in your chest. “Hey. Hey, I need you to breathe.” You hesitantly reach out and take his hands in yours, watching him carefully to see if he tries to pull away. He doesn’t. “You’re okay. Everyone’s okay. You’re safe. Can you take a breath for me?”

He’s not fully here, you can tell, his eyes glassed over and his breath catching in his throat. You scoot closer to him, put your hands on either side of his face, blocking out the sirens and the chatter and the crowd. “Takuma,” you say. “Look at me.”

His frantic, moving stare settles on you after a long moment, and he seems to realize abruptly that he is having a panic attack. You can see the moment it clicks in his mind, that if he was twelve years old in a car crash with his father, you couldn’t be here in front of him, and now it’s up to his body to get the message across.

“Breathe,” you say again, drawing in an exaggerated breath and blowing it out slowly. “C’mon, with me. You got this.”

Takuma gasps, trying to follow your instructions as you talk him through it, counting inhales and exhales and starting over every time his breath hitches. “Doing great,” you promise. The rest of the world—the cops, a very angry Megumi pacing back and forth, Kirara speaking rapidly on the phone—might as well not exist. It’s you and Takuma and your breaths in the air between you. Nothing else matters, not right now.

All of the struggles you’ve had this week, papers and feelings and not enough sleep, feel suddenly unbelievably small.

There are things that matter in a much louder way, and this is one of them.

“Christ,” Takuma breathes out eventually, burying his head in his hands. One of the cop cars erupts with the blare of sirens momentarily before stopping again, and the sound has his shoulders tense with worry all over again.

You don’t even think about it. You just pull Takuma into you, wrapping your arms around him, like you can put the both of you in a little bubble away from everything else. “Hey, hey—”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and you furiously shake your head. “Just—the sirens—“

“No,” you say firmly. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Takuma.”

He shudders and you rub your hand up and down his spine. “Is the other driver…?”

“A stupid fucking drunk driving in the wrong lane?” Kirara practically spits as she rejoins you near the tree. “Yes.” The cop just took her statement and has moved on to Megumi and Yuji.

You’ve never seen Megumi this livid. He’s gesturing wildly at the other car, and you remember idly that Naoya’s his cousin too, that this is a little personal for him.

“Yeah, but is he…?” Takuma trails off.

“He’s fine,” you murmur, your heart clenching for this boy, who’s been through so much and just relived the worst day of his life and still wanted to know if the other driver was okay. Jesus. He’s too good. “Everyone’s okay.”

You pull back to hold him at arm’s length, scanning him up and down for injury, and he’s staring at you like you just fell from the sky. “Skip—I’m really glad you’re here but—why? What are you…?” His voice is a little hoarse. His gaze trails down to the press pass hanging from your neck, and he cracks a wry smile. “Y’know, when I told you write a story on me, this isn’t really what I had in mind.”

So much relief floods you at once that you think you might actually start crying. “Jesus,” you croak out, and the smile drops from his face.

“I’m okay,” he says quickly. “Just—got the wind knocked out of me, but it’s fine. Skipper—”

You lurch forward and wrap your arms around him before he can finish, needing to feel him breathing, his heart beating. You also hear his breath hitch as he winces, and you pull back in alarm. “Shit, I’m sorry, what—”

“It’s okay,” he says. “Just sore. I’m fine. Really.” He leans back against the tree. “Airbags.”

You slump back against the tree too, deflated as the limp airbags in the ruined car. “You guys okay?” you ask as the others, done with their statements, turn toward you.

“Yeah,” Kirara says, but Megumi shakes his head and points to Yuji, who’s nodding even while cradling his wrist to his chest.

“It’s fine,” Yuji insists, and Megumi looks at him, incredibly unimpressed. “Well, it’s not broken, I can move it.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay,” Megumi says flatly. And you look at him, his expression so familiar, and abruptly realize you’re supposed to be writing a brief.

“Shit,” you mutter, pulling out your phone. “I’m working for your sister right now. I gotta…” You point to the phone. Megumi winces but nods, and Tsumiki picks up on the first ring.

“Hey! Done already? You find Yoshino okay? He said he—”

“Uh, no,” you say sheepishly. “Actually, I—uh, okay, everyone’s fine, but Megumi’s here. If I—”

“Slow down!” Tsumiki blurts. “What? Shit. Frick. Where’s Gumi? Can you put him on the phone?”

You wordlessly hand your phone to Megumi, who’s looking more pained at the concept of talking to his sister about this than the accident itself.

A few cars pull up—a white one screeching to a stop that really should not have been going so fast in front of a bunch of police officers, and then a darker gray one that arrives smoothly after, neatly pulling up against the curb. Gojo practically launches himself out of the first car, looking around until his gaze locks on Megumi, who hangs up the phone with a quiet okay, thanks and then immediately groans upon seeing Gojo there. Nanami and Shoko get out of the second car much less dramatically and trail after Gojo to the cluster of you by the tree.

“Megumi!” Gojo calls as he jogs over. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Megumi grumbles, trying and failing to brush Gojo off. “Where’d you come from? Don’t you have work?”

“Geto and Utahime are closing down,” Gojo says with a shrug. “We heard and came as fast as we could. Figured I’d bring our resident doc. Or Nanami would, since she wouldn’t ride with me,” he says loudly so Shoko can hear. She just rolls her eyes.

Megumi tosses you your phone and says, “Forget the brief, you’re good.” You nod, pushing to your feet and offering a hand to Takuma.

“We,” Gojo says, placing one hand on Megumi’s head and the other on Yuji’s, “are going to the ER.” You expect Megumi to object, but it’s Yuji who tries to wave Gojo off. Except he tries to physically wave him off with his bad wrist and immediately grimaces. Megumi swats him on the shoulder and gives him a serious look that says we’re going, don’t argue. You figure Tsumiki will probably meet them there.

Shoko stops to talk to Kirara a short distance away, and Nanami keeps walking, making a beeline for Takuma—and by extension, you. It doesn’t escape your notice that the second he’s within range, some of the tension in Takuma’s body seems to vanish, seeping out of him and into the grass, like the tree’s roots are taking it on for him.

Nanami’s usually immaculate hair is a little disheveled, like he ran his fingers through it. Without his usual glasses on, he looks a lot less daunting, a lot more personable. The worry in his expression is well concealed but very much present.

“Ino,” he says. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Takuma says unconvincingly. “Fine. Just—yeah. Drunk driver, you know…” He scratches at the back of his neck, and this time you don’t check yourself. You reach up and grab his hand, slotting your fingers between his. He shoots you a grateful look before turning back to Nanami. “I’m okay. Really. Thanks for… um…”

“Of course,” Nanami says before Takuma can say anything more. You release his hand so he can step forward. You’ve never seen Nanami hug anyone before, but apparently there’s a first time for everything.

“You’re not going with Gojo?” he asks when he pulls back, hands planted on Takuma’s shoulders. It feels very paternal. You’re not sure you should be listening in.

“Nah, I’m okay.”

“I’d feel a lot better if you got checked over,” he says, his voice firm but not unkind. “Would you let Shoko look at you, at least?” You’re relieved when Takuma nods, letting Shoko pull him away.

Gojo leads Yuji and Megumi past you, back to his car, and Yuji stops to whisper, “Never fear, Skip, the drum set was not in the car.”

“Oh my god,” you say. “Yuji. I’m more worried about you than the drums.”

“Aw, Skip!” he says happily. “That’s nice.” You roll your eyes but can’t keep the fond smile off your face, and you know Megumi’s probably doing the same thing, though you can only see the back of his head as he follows Gojo. Yuji bounds off after them, still cradling his wrist to his chest but seeming very unconcerned about the whole ordeal.

Yet another screech of tires alerts you to a truck appearing from the other end of the street. Hakari doesn’t even bother to shut it off, jumping out and leaving the door hanging open.

“Kira!” he shouts, pushing past the remaining officers. “Kirara!”

“Over here!” Kirara calls, thanking Shoko and weaving around the slowly diminishing crowd. Someone’s already showed up to tow Naoya’s car, and another truck probably isn’t far behind. Kirara gets swept up in Hakari’s arms, her trying to reassure him she’s fine, and you find yourself left alone with Nanami. He studies you openly, keen eyes and a calm, very slight smile on his face.

“I don’t think we’ve met, officially,” you say sheepishly. “I’m Skipper.”

“Kento,” he says, holding out a hand. You shake it and feel abruptly like you’re talking to a business executive. As Shoko looks Takuma over on the other side of the big tree, Nanami—Kento—lowers his voice a bit and says, “Ino’s told me all about you.”

The heat rises unbidden to your cheeks, and you hope the evening dimness hides it. He talks about you? To Nanami? You aren’t really sure how to respond to that, but luckily, Kento spares you the trouble. “Look out for him tonight, will you?” You can tell from the tone that he’s testing the waters, trying to determine how much you know about his dad.

Hopefully the message gets across when your gaze drifts back to Takuma over Kento’s shoulder and you say, “I plan on it.”

“He’s alright,” Shoko announces, and Takuma appears at your side again. “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.” Something loosens in your chest at the words, something that tied itself into knots the second you saw Yuji’s car and hasn’t let up since.

“Hey,” Hakari calls, he and Kirara approaching hand in hand. “You guys good?”

Takuma nods, and you shrug. “Wasn’t in the car.”

“We’re gonna head back to Kirara’s. You want a lift?”

Takuma glances at Kento, and you feel the truth of his words that day on the roof, about Nanami being the closest thing he has to a father.

“Go home, kid,” he says. “Sleep it off. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Takuma says, like a breath of relief. He looks exhausted. But he’s here in one piece, and that’s what matters. Your fingers brush his as you walk back to Hakari’s truck. It’s a quiet ride, a short one, your board on your lap and your press pass still dangling from your neck.

“Oh, Skipper,” Hakari says when he turns onto your street. “Your house over here? Or are you coming to theirs?”

You glance at Takuma, but before either of you can say anything, Kirara says, “She’s comin’ over.” She catches your gaze in the rearview mirror with a knowing look and you manage a weak smile. You can’t imagine letting Takuma out of your sight right now, honestly.

The dogs are there the second Kirara opens the door, and Takuma practically falls into them, burying his face in their fur as they nuzzle up against him. Shiro turns to you after saying hi to the others and noses at your palm until you scratch her behind the ears.

“Hi, sweetie,” you murmur. “Good girl.”

Kirara nudges you with her shoulder as she brushes by, glancing down at Takuma and then back at you. You nod. I got him. She offers you a small smile before she and Hakari disappear around the corner.

“C’mon,” you murmur, tapping Takuma on the shoulder. He nods, pushing to his feet and patting each dog on the head one more time. You follow him upstairs, feeling a little out of your depth. After all, he’s not the one who decided you were staying.

When you’re both standing in his room, you shift on your feet a little, wondering how to word it. “If you want some space—”

“No,” he blurts, unexpectedly loud, and then his cheeks go a little red, sheepish. “I mean—uh. I could… use the company. If you don’t mind. You don’t have to stay, obviously, just—”

“Kuma.” You laugh a little, watching him freeze, glance up at you mid-ramble. “I would love to stay.”

“Oh.” He grins. “Cool. Okay. Um.” He turns around and grabs a pair of sweats and a tee from his dresser, then holds them out to you. “If you want…? Or I can ask Kirara, I’m sure she’d let you borrow something, or obviously you live right down the street or—”

Something about the idea of wearing his clothes makes you go a little warm all over, and you accept them without hesitating, cutting off his rambling. “Thanks.”

“I’m gonna…” He jerks his thumb toward the door. You don’t know if he’s just giving you the space to change or going to shower or what, but you nod, waiting until the door clicks shut behind him to tug on the sweats and shirt. The shirt is huge on you, one shoulder sliding off, a fading logo of some music festival on the front. You sit on the edge of Takuma’s bed, tucking your knees under you, and then your phone rings. Tsumiki.

“Hey,” you say, pressing it to your ear. “They’re okay?”

“Yeah, Yuji sprained his wrist but nothing else. Pretty minor, all things considered,” she reports. “They’re on their way back to the house.”

“Good,” you breathe, the relief evident in your voice. “Thanks. Do you… are you sure about the brief?”

Tsumiki chuckles. “Hey, not your job to worry about the press tonight.”

“I can still try to… write it,” you say half-heartedly, dreading the thought of it. “I mean, I saw the scene and…”

“Don’t even worry about it. Genuinely,” she says. “You and I both know that’s a conflict of interest.” You huff a weak laugh. What an understatement. “More importantly, you sound exhausted and I’m sure that whole thing stressed you out. Listen, the photog I had on it wanted to break into writing anyway. No time like the present.”

You immediately feel even worse, because your photographer was probably looking for you at the scene and you just left him hanging.

“Stop,” Tsumiki says, like she can read your mind through the phone. “He handled it well. It’s fine, Skipper. Get some rest.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, but she’s already gone. You shoot a quick text to the group chat explaining what happened, that everyone’s fine, and that you probably won’t be home tonight. Takuma doesn’t want to be alone, and honestly, you don’t know if you could leave him if you tried.

It doesn’t take long for the texts to start pouring in.

utah: let us know if any of you need anything!! maki: keep us posted and tell megumi to answer his dumb phone nobara: WHAT nobara: OH MY GOD???? nobara: well i’m glad everyone’s okay nobara: christ freak no. 1: alsjkfq qEQht

You frown at the keysmash, wondering if Toge dropped his phone or actually just doesn’t know how to communicate like a normal person.

you: ??? freak no. 1: sorry SOMEONE TOOK MY PHONE,,,, utah: because SOMEONE DOESN’T KNOW WHEN IT’S AN APPROPRIATE TIME TO SEND MEMES, TOGE maki: nvm he picked up maki: go to sleep, skipper, we can talk tomorrow

Toge texts you privately thirty seconds later. It’s the meme of Gru laying out his evil plan and then realizing it’s a horrible idea. The first frame says answer the phone, the second says get the breaking news like a baddie journalist, and the last frames say realize you know everyone at the scene of the crime. You laugh out loud. Toge knows you. He knows you needed this. He wouldn’t have sent it if he didn’t think it’d cheer you up.

A half-second later, another image comes in, but it’s just a picture of Nobara with her hands clasped together in front of her mouth, speechless and absolutely thrilled. The full image shows her swooning over a little puppy, but you long ago cropped it and started using it as a reaction image in your chats.

freak no. 1: me when ur okay :)

“Aw,” you murmur. Toge can be sweet sometimes. You start texting back, but then another message comes in and you backspace immediately.

freak no. 1: me when ur spending the night with your boyfie :) you: i was gonna say thanks but then you kept going freak no. 1: me when she texts back :) you: goodnIGHT TOGE freak no. 1: me when she goodnight texts :)

Takuma knocks softly on the door before cracking it open, waiting for you to give him the green light before coming in. He’s changed into his own pair of sweats, and his hair is ruffled and wild around his face. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You toss your phone on the bedside table and scoot over to make room. “You okay?”

He sits cross-legged on the bed, and you turn to face him. “Think so,” he says. “Just… felt like I was back there for a minute.” His eyes go distant just for a moment, and your heart twists in your chest. You scoot forward, knees bumping against his.

“Glad you’re okay,” you murmur, and it doesn’t feel like enough, but he gives you that soft, open look that makes you feel like you could say anything at all and he’d treasure it.

“Glad it was you and not some rando reporter.”

You grin, holding a fist out to Takuma like it’s a microphone. “How do you rate Skipper’s hug on a scale of one to ten?”

He leans forward, playing along. “Uh, you know, it was so long ago I might not have a really accurate rating. I would have to probably hug her again—”

You don’t let him finish, surging forward and wrapping your arms around him, tackling him down onto the bed in a fit of laughter. Caught off-guard, he has no defense, and after a startled moment his arms snake around your waist, and you lie there, looking at each other with barely-restrained grins.

“Well, that one was pretty good,” he murmurs. “Nine, I think.”

You gape at him. “Nine?”

Another smile dances across his lips, and you suddenly really want to kiss him.

“Guess you’ll just have to keep trying.” He shrugs innocently, and then tries and fails to stifle a yawn, which makes you yawn in turn. It’s late, night having draped itself over the city hours ago, and the effects of barely snatching hours of sleep all week are finally creeping up on you, weighing you down.

“Go to sleep,” you tell Takuma, grabbing a blanket from where it’s been wedged between the bed and the wall and shoving it toward him.

“You go to sleep.”

“Bossy.”

But he shakes the blanket out and lets it fall over both of you, trapping your warmth beneath it, and sleep feels very, very appealing.

You think about the paralyzing, all-consuming fear that took hold of you when you saw the car. The thought of anything happening to him—you actually can’t even fathom it. And you think about what that means, and that you’ve only known this boy for a month, but you feel like your heart beats on the same channel as his.

Geto’s words play themselves over and over in your head, Maki’s mixing themselves in until you have a chorus of phrases bouncing around like pinballs.

Your heart is not a finite thing.

You already know.

The question isn’t if he likes you, or if you like him. It’s whether you’re gonna let it play out or shut it down before it has a chance to.

If you’ve got something, love it while you have it.

Geto was right. You don’t know how long you’ll have this for, have him for. But you better make the most of it while you do.

But Takuma’s eyes are already closing, his arm slung over your waist, seeking your warmth, your comfort. He looks exhausted, shaken. These aren’t conversations for tonight. Tonight, you just hold him, and feel his breath against your neck, and revel in the fact that he’s okay.

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jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro @bisforbuse @risararelywrites @idkidk32 @gojodickbig @stargazing-with-choso @anonymity-222

a/n: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, TEAM. i've fallen into another anime hyperfixation (blue lock) and it's killing me slowly. one part left of this fic !!

[wandasaura]

just imagining them using a larger size and r can’t help but to ride it faster because of how good it feels and all the new spots it hits. Add the dom with her being nothing but a tease, degrading her while she’s so desperate and needy. Back arched and everything when she comes and even after she grinds down on it.

🫡🫡🫡

wanda has you on your belly in the center of her bed, your arms aren't bound, but they're being held in place by wanda's hands. you started out in doggy, your palms holding up your head and torso, but somewhere between wanda teasing your folds and beginning to push into you, you'd fallen face first. she'd used the new position to her advantage, your forearms being used as leverage as she rocks herself against you, but your knees are still digging into the mattress and giving her the perfect view of your ass and sopping cunt. she's decided to be nice and forgo the buttplug knowing she was going to split you open with her strap, but she teases your hole with her thumb every few minutes when she wants to provoke sharper whines from the depth of your throat. your hips are grinding back on her, and she's not stopping you despite how she comments, "such a needy little slut. can't even take what i give you, you always want more." she's entirely euphoric as she drives her hips harder and harder against you, one hand between your thighs and resting on the swell of your belly where she can feel the head of the strap bulging every time she dives in again. she doesn't stop the first time you cum, or the second, or the third, she wants you squirting on her strap and she'll make you cum as many times as she needs to until you give her what you want, after all, there is a proper way to christen new toys, or at least that's what she claims.

[whorekneecentral]

hey there, hope everything’s fine! So I just thought of this… max verstappen with prompts (phrases) 46 and 9. y’all were in the club and dancing, reader basically grinding on him

(sorry I’ve been listening a lot to “papi” by J.Lo, was my anthem a couple years ago 🫡)

- 🦁 anon

hi love, I’m so sorry this took me 400 years to get too lmao // prompts: “you love pissing me off, don’t you?” + “I’m wet/hard” “sounds like a personal problem” 

You and Max had gone out for the night, Monaco was always a wonderful place for nightlife but even more so when the Grand Prix was in town, which it was this weekend.

Max had won the race, a big shocker there - you were his girlfriend but even every now and then, you secretly hoped someone else would win just for some entertainment.

He convinced you to join him and a few friends to celebrate his win. you weren't big on partying but for Max, you'd give in for a few hours.

So there you were, a sweaty club packed with people you could care less about, drunk off tequila as you danced with Monaco race winner, Max Verstappen, the same Max Verstappen that is gonna wake up with a headache and cling to you all of tomorrow.

His hands found your hips as you swayed to the music, grinding back against him slightly and Max squeezes your hips to get you to stop.

You ignore him, the tequila fuelling all the bad decisions swirling around in your head.

Max's lips pressed to your ear when he whispers to you over the loud music; "I'm hard."

You giggled, reaching back to rest a hand on his jaw. "Sounds like a personal problem."

Max rolls his eyes at your response and you kept dancing, the same way you had previously done. "You love pissing me off, don't you?"

The man was fed up of your teasing, you giggled as he pulled you away and down the hallway to the bathroom.

Your hands are all over each other the moment the door closes, Max walking you back to the counter. He turns you to face the mirror, his fingers dragging up the back of your thigh.

You can't help but spread your legs for the man. His fingers rub over your panties, pushing against your cunt for a moment.

You can hear the clink of his belt and he pushes your dress over your hips.

Max's eyes finds yours in the mirror, "can I?" He asks and you nod, "please."

He holds your hip to keep you in place when he pushes into you. The force pushes you into the counter, digging into you. His hand moves to wrap around your neck, leaning down against you and you swear you could feel him in your stomach.

His eyes finds yours in the mirror once more. “So pretty, too bad you're always such a fucking brat."

You knew you were in for a long night.

[shalomniscient]

i love nightingale x f!chief so can i request hc of them de stressing each other in a wholesome and nsfw ways <333333

f!chief x nightingale my beloved..................... as you wish, anon 🫡🫡🫡 though i will be writing f!chief in the context of her being the reader, if that's alright

de-stress || nightingale x reader [NSFT]{MDNI]

cw. fingering, strap-ons, semi-public sex

notes. [NSFT] is under the cut

SFT

Destressing usually happens at home, for you and Nightingale. The days are long and tiring for the both of you, so when you get home you both drag yourselves to the shower to wash up, then flop into bed together. Nightingale doesn't outwardly say it but she loves being cuddled and held in your arms; she's lost you so many times, and sometimes for so, so long that it brings her so much peace to know that you're here. That you're okay.

If Nightingale's had a bad day, she needs a little extra pampering. Maybe you wash her hair for her, then give her a nice, slow massage on her shoulders down to her back. She'll practically melt into the bed, and more often than not end up dozing off completely. You let her sleep in, but she'll always arrive at the office 30 minutes after, flushed but looking definitely more well-rested.

(She smacks you on the shoulder for letting her be late, but before she leaves your office she sets a small packed lunch on your desk.)

If you're the one stressed, Nightingale generally does much the same. For you, your source of stress (outside work) is the recurring nightmares you get. The shackles are powerful, but you are just as shackled to your Sinners as they are to you. Sometimes, their dreams or their nightmares bleed into yours, and you lose whatever remnants of sleep you could've had. You don't like it, both because you can't sleep and because it wakes Nightingale up.

But Nightingale doesn't mind. She pulls you close instead, tucking your head beneath her chin and rubbing circles on your back to soothe you back to sleep. Touch has always been something that grounded you, relaxed you, and Nightingale's touch is especially effective.

NSFT

The hornier way of destressing can go one of two ways, I feel: soft, or desperate.

Soft is reserved for when you and Nightingale are truly just tired, but still want that intimacy. Usually it'll be things like you slipping a hand down her sleep shorts to finger her to a quiet orgasm before bed, and then her returning the favor to you. There'll be a lot of kisses exchanged, breathless against each others' lips, in between whispered i love yous.

Desperate, on the other hand... this is tension stress. Maybe one or both of you had a bad day, which leads to furious makeouts in hidden corners of the MBCC, you front pressing her back against the wall, her arms around your neck. These kisses burn, her teeth scraping your lower lip as she grinds on your thigh between her legs.

You pull apart eventually and find a more secluded spot, usually your 'hideaway' or even your office where you always keep a strap handy. Nightingale sets a time for 15 minutes and that's all the time you get to take her to absolute pound town. Which you do, obviously, and you're so glad the office walls are soundproofed.

Nightingale always cums with a shaky, whiny cry of your name that you eagerly swallow with a kiss. She's so pretty like this that you could cum from watching her alone. Aftercare in these situations is helping Nightingale fix her appearance, tucking stray strands of loose green hair back behind her ear and fixing her cap back on securely on her head, before you part ways for the remainder of the day with a gentle kiss, now that the tension has all been fucked out of both of you.

[tyongf-nct]

That's okay! I'm pre everything so my body is entirely female so I just like ready fics with more masculine praises and pet names and such. but I was actually wondering if you could write something about Chan, Minho, or Jisung having you ride their thigh while they're trying to work since you're being too needy and they can't exactly help you the way they want to rn. lots of praise and such??

-☁️

hey so this is literal MONTHS late so i hope you’re still around 🥲 had some crazy life stuff but i am back and i hope you love some chan goodness 🫡 also fucking love this prompt, one of my fav tropes to read and write

also ALSO congrats on the transition, even pre everything ;) one of my lifelong best friends is FTM and i’ve had the absolute pleasure of seeing the whole journey and learning so much from him, so i hope all goes well for you! exciting times!

dynamic: fem!reader x bang chan

warnings/tags: smut, female only pleasure, thigh riding, dirty talk, praise

~

“I’m sorry love, I have to hop on this call with the producers. We’re finishing up this last verse, then I promise I’ll give you my full attention,” Chan patted your thigh as you humphed in your seat—his lap.

“But I need you now,” you pouted for full effect, “Please.”

He smirked, the side of his mouth crooking up just a moment before the rest curled into that infuriatingly beautiful smile. “I do love it when you say please.”

You grinned, wiggling a bit and pulling a chuckle out of Chan.

“Alright baby, just let me get through this call, yeah? It’s just a few last minute notes.”

You nodded just as the video call went through.

“Turn the camera off,” you whispered, leaning away so you were out of frame. He lifted an eyebrow, about to ask why before you gave him an urgent look. Chan questioned you no further and clicked the desktop’s camera off.

“Why—what are you doing?” He mouthed, attempting to listen to one of producers on the other side of the call as you shimmied out of your panties.

“Taking matters into my own hands,” you whispered, breath tickling against his ear and eliciting a shiver from Chan. You bit back a smile at his reaction and lowered yourself onto his strong thigh was a soft gasp. You knew the both of you could feel your arousal slicking his bare skin, his shorts having ridden up just enough for you to be skin on skin.

“Fuck, what the fuck,” he groaned under his breath.

“Quiet, my love, the mic is still on,” you whispered sweetly. He gave you an unimpressed yet strangled look as you began grinding your hips down in slow, sensual circles. The easy friction provided a great sense of relief, the pressure between your thighs that had been building for hours as Chan worked tirelessly on his music finally finding some alleviation. Chan was always working hard, always the dutiful composer and member, sometimes so much so that it was hard to capture his attention once he got into work mode. You tried to be patient, but his eyes had become bleary and the night had become dark, so you wanted to pull him out of his zone, just for a little bit, and distract him.

“You feel so fucking good against my pussy,” you murmured, shuddering in delight when his big hands snaked around you to squeeze your ass. “Do you feel how wet I am for you?”

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, careful not to be too loud as he half-heartedly listened to what the production team was saying. “You’re always so fucking good for me, baby girl. So wet and warm and perfect.” Chan used his hands on your ass and hips to guide your movements, looking down at the spot you connected with dilated pupils and a bitten bottom lip.

“I can’t wait to have you inside me. I can’t wait to feel you come in me,” you said, sparks of electric pleasure zipping through you. Your movements sped up, the slide becoming smoother as more of your wetness eased the way towards your orgasm. Chan’s eyes flicked up to yours, just for a moment, before he slammed his lips to yours. Your groan of pleasure was muffled as he kissed you ferociously, sucking and licking and biting and only pausing to throw out a noncommittal, “Yeah!” to the phone call. You ground down a few more times before the dam burst and you came, shuddering with Chan’s name on your lips and slickness dripping down his thigh.

“So pretty. Always so pretty coming all over me,” he whispered, tracing a finger languidly through your mess before bringing it up to his mouth to taste. You clamped a hand over your mouth to silence your cry, already clenching at the thought of what was to come next.

“Hang up the phone, Christopher,” you deadpanned, and he laughed with crinkling eyes before announcing he had to leave the call early due to an “unexpected but extremely important emergency”.

[livingformintyoongi]

Guilty As Sin? | Kim Taehyung [Preview II]

a/n: Woop! Surprise! I know I've been missing these days, let's just say it's my way of apologizing 🫡 it's the second forward from GAS? I'm still deciding whether to make it a series or a one-shot, but while I decide I'll leave this over here!

WC: 719

Warnings: Mentions of infidelity (on both sides), reader's boyfriend is a bit violent at the beginning.

Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics

“Do you even know what time it is?!” Hyunjin grabbed your wrist tightly, his frown deepening as he dragged you through the house to your bedroom. You were nervous, you were scared, but deep down in your heart, you were relieved; at last, you could free yourself from the guilt you felt every time you went out with Taehyung, at last, you could tell him you wanted to separate, that you no longer needed him in your life—not anymore.

Once inside the bedroom, he shoved your arm forcefully, making you sit on the bed. You didn’t move, you didn’t think you could, at least not while your legs were trembling violently against your will. You just sat there, watching the man in front of you pace back and forth in the room, ruffling his hair in frustration.

He reminded you of yourself two years ago, when you first discovered he was secretly seeing someone named “Sekyung,” one of those gorgeous, extravagant models he swore would never be his type—the kind he promised you would never have to worry about.

Now it was him who was desperate to understand, too upset with you for betraying him, too hurt because you promised there was nothing to worry about when he met Taehyung. You hadn’t done anything wrong, you had merely returned the favor, showing him exactly how you had felt over the last two years.

“You said he was just a coworker,” he muttered, his jaw clenching so tightly you could hear his teeth grinding from where you sat. You didn’t respond—what could you say? After all, he was right; you had cheated on him with your coworker. There was no turning back now.

You weren’t a liar like him; you were woman enough to face the consequences of your actions.

“All those late-night calls, all those times you came home late… the nights you didn’t come home at all… all that time you were with that bastard… sleeping around like the whore you are with a guy who isn’t your boyfriend!”

“Yes!” you shot up from the bed, trying to straighten your back as much as possible. He was much bigger than you, but you wouldn’t let him intimidate you—not today. “All those times I avoided you, didn’t answer your calls, it was because I was out whoring around with that bastard!” You shoved him with all your strength, feeling a flicker of pride at the look of surprise on his face. For the first time in all your years together, you didn’t stay quiet. “I did exactly what you’ve been doing to me for the past two years!”

You began to feel the burn of tears in your eyes and a knot forming in your stomach. You were sad, angry, nervous, scared… but it was fine. You were fine. You wouldn’t let him see you cry for him again.

“And you know what? I don’t regret it—not one bit. I would do it again and again for the rest of my life because, for the first time in four years, I felt truly loved. For the first time since you asked me out, I felt like someone actually cared about me the way you never did. And if I have to sneak out of this damn house every day just to see him for a few hours, then I will.”

The two of you stared at each other in silence, your words hanging in the air like daggers aimed at his heart, as if you had betrayed him, as if it wasn’t him who had brought another woman to your bed to fuck her as if you didn’t sleep there every night. As if it wasn’t him who had degraded and discouraged you in every aspect of your life over the past four years. He looked at you as if you were the one to blame for the disastrous end of your relationship.

But you knew it wasn’t like that. You knew it wasn’t just one person’s fault. You were both to blame—him for stabbing you in the back for years, and you for not seeing the signs earlier.

You were both guilty, and you both knew it; one of you was ready to cut ties permanently, and the other still felt like they couldn’t live without the relationship.

Masterlist.