#i pulled so much shit out of my ass for this paper it almost makes me embarrassed

[omgeto]

☆ THREE ISN'T A CROWD — SATORU & SUGURU

summary: your best friends, geto and gojo, rail you in a hotel bed. that's it. that's the fic.

cw: afab!reader, finger fucking, unprotected sex, double penetration so mdni !!

an: I wrote this whilst drinking a big fat cup of tea, and eating a packet of stale biscuits. so no angsty romance today, just two besties appreciating you in their own special way. it is 5:40 am so I did not proof read this so ignore mistakes pls <;33

gojo and geto were mischievous on their own accords – but when together it was worse. so when you were sandwiched between them in your hotel room, since of course there was only one bed, you weren’t even surprised.

“this is not fair,” gojo mumbles, his lips curling into a mock pout as he exhales a huff of air. 

“oh don’t be a baby,” geto scolds, with a chuckle . gojo and geto bickered over who got to sleep where and after a lengthy game of rock paper scissors – it was gojo who had to face the wall. “you’ll get your turn soon.” you could feel geto’s breath on your neck as he was placed firmly behind you, his hands stuffed in your pants as his fingers caress your wet slit. 

“don’t be mean sugu,” you chastise, your hand trailing up gojo's back to his shoulder to turn him over, facing you, “there’s enough of me to go around.” gojo is needy, pressing a feverish kiss to your lips, wanting to taste all of you.

gojo didn’t think his plan would work, when he proposed it to geto he was swift in his agreement — the only thing left was you. their pretty little best friend. who they've both wanted a piece of, for years.

now that he’s got you, he couldn’t contain himself – if he wasn’t careful he knew he’d be cumming in his boxers too soon. he latches onto your neck sucking and biting his hands grabbing onto your tits, tweaking and pinching at your nipples.

“you’re hogging her,” gojo complains, as his fingers slip down to your cunt. geto adds another finger spreading your lips wider as gojo’s forces his fingers into you. they were both rubbing your pussy. your wetness making it easier for gojo to piston in and out of you and for geto to stroke and flick against your clit with his thumb.

“g-guys fuck, you’re both too much,” you whimper,  your hips thrusting towards gojo, slotting onto his fingers further. geto’s slides his tongue from your collar bone to your jaw before his hand grips onto it, his lips remain at your ears as he whispers, “you gonna cum for us baby?”

“yeah c’mon make a mess for us,” gojo adds, continuing his pattern of rubs and pushes in your pussy, its almost as if he’s committed the rhythm to memory. he was effortless in working with geto, both aiding each other to help you reach your climax. geto pinches your clint, hard, and you spray both of their hands with your cum – squirting all over them.

gojo’s eyes widen at the sight, “shit, i didn’t know you could do that” he exclaims, taking his fingers out of you, examining them as they glisten with your juices, “suguru, did she know that she could do that?”

geto ignores him, rolling his eyes at his friends over excitement, “wanna be wowed even further, taste her, i bet she’s sweet.” before gojo could comply you take his fingers in your mouth, practically choking on them as you suck off all your juices. 

“you taste good don’t you?” geto muses, pressing a kiss to your neck, you nod dumbly as you lock eyes with gojo still nibbling on his fingers. 

“hey suguru, can we try something with her,” gojo proposes, and geto nods, prompting him to continue, “i wanna stuff her. i want both of us to stuff her. 

“we can make that happen, can't we?” geto smirks, rubbing on your ass giving it a light smack, “come sit on my dick, i’ll take of you.”

“what about me?” gojo whines, groaning as you're pulled away from him and on top of geto. 

“you’ll get yours in due time, satoru,” geto scolds, taking out his dick giving it some light pumps before rubbing it across your slit. you force yourself down on him, your hands clawing at his chest as you push it down. you were already gushing at the feeling of geto inside of you, filling you whole. so the idea of having them both in you had you excited, grinding down onto geto’s dick as hard as he was thrusting into you.

“are you seeing this?” geto asks gojo, gesturing to the way your head was thrown back and your lips were clenched in your teeth, “the way our pretty friend here is all strung out on my dick?”

gojo’s eyes were focused on the way you bounced repeatedly on his best friends dick, furiously pumping his as the sight. the way your grabbed your tits and played with your nipples, moaning to the beat of geto’s thrusts, he knew he needed to be inside of you. 

he gets out of the bed, coming to kneel behind you, peppering kisses along your spine. “i think theres room for me, isn’t there?” he jests, slightly pushing you forward, eyeing the way geto’s dick slides in and out of you. 

you take a shark inhale at the feeling of gojo entering you, “you’re good,” geto reassures, “you can take us.” and you moan as you get used to the feeling of the both of them, their dicks rubbing together as they drive into you, instantly finding a rhythm. 

“you feel so fuckin’ good, w-way too good,” gojo moans, holds you from behind, his chest presses against your back, his hands cupping your boobs as his head rests on your shoulders. 

“‘m close,” geto mutters, smirking at the sight of you, the feeling of you. “you gonna let us cum inside of you? really keep you filled up.” you moan out in agreement, your head felt so foggy with the feeling of them both charging into you. geto gives gojo a knowing smile, and as if on cue, they both load into you showering you with their cum. you finish at the same as them with a high pitched moan, releasing onto them, feeling stuffed with all their cum, and yours, resting inside of you.

“now that,” gojo pulls out of you, pressing an appreciative kiss on the corner of your lips before collapsing on the bed with a blissful smile, “was fucking magical.”

“yeah i guess it was good,” geto chuckles, still inside of you, kissing you on your forehead, his hand slinging over your ass, as you slump on top of him, “how are you feeling?”

“you two are exhausting,” you joke with a smile, “but i can see why i kept you around as my friends.” although this was something that you yourself didn’t plan, you weren’t gonna deny that being freshly fucked and laid up with your two best friends wasn’t all that bad.

AN: I think you can see my heavy bias for geto come thru in this fic but oh well DIVIDERS BY @/CAFEKITSUNE I wrote this more for time than anyone else tbf BUT TELL ME WHAT U THINK since I am iffy on my smut skills

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 7: Firsts

Kyle bought you lunch before your set time. To make sure you ate, he said. He still asked about five times if you felt like you ate enough or needed water even after sitting across from you while you downed a to-go container of pad se ew and your fourth ounce bottle.

You just laugh and point to a piece on your knee. “Babes I got this with nothing but a trenta iced coffee and two hours of sleep in my system. I’m fine, I promise.”

John made a baffled noise at that. Kyle looked like he was going to throw up. That look remained as he went through the process of setting up in John’s studio room. Kyle is meticulous about it. Each step done with care. You feel a bit silly sitting around and twiddling your thumbs.

“Just breathe. It’s fine.” John murmurs in a low rumble that somehow has you relaxing more than the indented party.

“It’s almost more scary doing someone I know.” Kyle huffs.

You laugh. “Can’t be worse than the blown out piece of shit on my left arm. C’mon, I’ve seen what you can do. You’ve got this.”

John nods, sitting on the other side of you.

“Besides, even if it sucks I’ll still be honored to be your first real apprentice tattoo.” You pipe up.

Kyle chuckles, low and unsure. Part of you wants to give him an out, to say he doesn’t have to, but you can see the set of his jaw even as his eyes flick between his supplies and the stencil in his hand nervously. He’s determined as much as he is scared. There’s no getting him out of that headspace until he’s done.

You chose something easy. One of Kyle’s more dainty, simple flash designs for the back of your thigh, just below the curve of your ass. A little bow with minimal shading. Something he’s practiced a thousand times and an easy enough starting point. Plus, you already mentioned having him do a matching one on the other side when he’s ready for it. Easy practice.

“C’mon, at least get the stencil on before you have a panic attack.” You try to keep your voice light, turning your back to him.

Kyle sighs. You hear his stool roll forward as he scoots in close to place it. John shuffles around to stand over him. A nasty part of your brain complains about exposing your cellulite to these two fit men but you push that deep down into nothing. A second, more embarrassing part wonders if you should have chose a more appropriate spot… that maybe you shouldn’t be standing in front of your boss and coworker in teeny-tiny biker shorts that barely cover you. You shove that down right next to the other mean thoughts.

You pointedly ignore the heat that shoots up your spine as Kyle’s hands feel out the shape of your thigh to get it centered - keeping your eyes forward as he slowly presses the paper against you. You could swear a thumb traces the curve of your cheek as he smoothes it but that’s probably just wishful thinking.

“Good job, kid.” John claps a hand on Kyle’s shoulder as soon as the paper is pulled away. You turn around in the mirror to check it, expecting to probably have to move it, but from what you can tell it really is perfect.

“Damn, dude, on your first try!” You grin, clapping happily.

Kyle nods stiffly, but you see the way the corner of his mouth quirks up. You unceremoniously clamber onto the table, moving around so your back doesn’t hurt from laying flat for the next few hours with your arms folded under your head.

“Hey.” You whisper while John steps away to grab something. “Get through this without freaking out and I’ll give you a reward.”

“A reward?” He tilts his head, smile turning from an nervous curl of his lip to a boyish grin.

You jokingly bat your lashes. “I’ll give you a kiss.”

Kyle chuckles. “With tongue?”

You gawk, face hot. “Mr. Garrick! Where’d my knight in shining armor go?”

“Just tryin’ t’ figure out exactly what I’m workin’ toward.”

You hum, pretending to mull it over. “We’ll see. Depends on how well you do.”

Kyle levels a look at you, something heated as his lip catches between his teeth. It’s only there for a moment, gone as soon as he turns to his tools. Replaced by a laser focus.

“Alright.” John settles back into his seat on your other side. “Let’s do one line and then see how we all feel.”

Kyle nods. You shuffle a little to make you’re you’re as comfortable as possible for the next however long. You know it’s going to be a while even if it isn’t a simple design. He’s new and precise with means slow.

The familiar whirr of the gun starts up. You shut your eyes, waiting, hoping that you aren’t projecting any more tension into the room than Kyle is. The needle stings when it finally touches you, but not as badly as you braced for. His touch is light.

He pulls the gun away and let’s put a giant sigh. “How y’feel, luv?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m all good. You?” You tilt your chin a bit to meet his eye.

“Better now that it’s started.”

“Good.” John nods, chest bumping your leg as he leans forward to look. “Looks good. Keep on.”

The room is nearly silent as he works. You turned down the music before coming back so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed - at least that was your reasoning. You’d get overwhelmed. Kyle is more levelheaded than you are, though.

“Thassit.” John smiles - or at least that’s how it sounds in his voice. “Her skin takes ink so well, yeah?”

Fuck, that totally should not do it for you. Gravelly voiced British bastard. You keep your eyes locked onto the flash on the far wall as you attempt to cool down.

Kyle just hums, seemingly unable to talk as he concentrates. He probably is with how dialed in he looks. You take a break before he gets to shading, stretching and getting some water. It takes a while, but not as long as you assumed. You start to get that ache in your skin partway through the shading - that feeling when your nerves are so tired from firing off pain receptors they just all sort of start burning dully.

However long later Kyle pulls away. “I… think it’s done?”

“You think?” John challenges.

Kyle sighs before speaking with more finality. “It’s done.”

There’s a few beats where John assess and you hold your breath. He points to a couple spots where Kyle’s hand slipped a bit or he applied too much pressure, but when you check it out in the mirror yourself you don’t see that all. Perfectionists.

You can’t help but squeal and jump, clapping happily and barely standing still while Kyle puts the saniderm on. You’re just to happy! Not only did Kyle get his first tattoo done but now you have brand new (free) cute ink to show off. Kyle looks tired, though, so you try not over overwhelm him while he cleans up. Concentrating like that with anxiety must have really taken it out of him.

You sort of forget about your promise of a reward for the next week. Too busy focusing on taking care of your new tattoo. The only downside to the placement is sitting in your office chair itches - especially once you take the saniderm off. You’ve mostly taken to standing while working and wearing shorts and skirts to let it breathe. It’s worth it, though. You’ll have to ask Kyle how soon he wants to do the other one. Without being pushy, of course.

You quietly hum to yourself as you get the cash drawers ready to lock away in the backroom safe. Triple checking the bags and making sure tips are divided correctly, etc.

“Hey, lovie.” Kyle saddles up behind you suddenly, hands on your hips.

You jump. “Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry.” He chuckles. A hand slips down your hip, palm tracing the hem of your tennis skirt to lightly rest over the little bow. “How’s she healin’?”

“It’s, uh, it-“ You stutter, eyes wide and skin hot. If it were Johnny, you’d laugh and swat him away - maybe let his hand wander to your ass first - but Kyle doesn’t do this. Not that you don’t like it - the problem lies in that you’re liking it too much. If the patter of your heart is anything to go by. “It’s good. Not itching yet or anything.”

Kyle hums. “Good.”

“Th-that all?”

“Think you forgot somethin’.” He turns you around, hands firmly planted on the softness of your waist. When you just give him a bewildered look he continues. “I was promised a reward, I think.”

“O-oh?” Your face burns, eyes wide. Is he serious? Part of you wants to say no - to push him away. You’re coworkers, after all. Until your eyes meet his, so big and warm and his lips forming a perfect pout. “John….?”

Kyle chuckles ans crosses his chest. “John won’t care. Cross my heart.”

He gives you a moment to mull it over. You don’t think he’s making fun of or bating you - Kyle wouldn’t do that. There’s no way he’s interested either. That’s one delusion you can firmly plant in the ’purely imaginary’ category.

Whatever. What do you have to lose from a little back room make out?

Your lips meets his. Fuck, they’re soft. He steals your breath - greedy and gentile. It’s been so long since you’ve been kissed, much less kissed well. One of the hands on your waist moves to your low back as Kyle leans into you. Your hands grapple onto his shoulders to steady you. He takes advantage of your gasp at being tilted back to swipe is tongue between your lips.

You mould together, breaths heavy and tongues dancing. A needy, pathetic little part of you wishes the hand that drifted from your waist to your hip would hook under your thigh. That Kyle would tilt you all the way back onto the desk and throw your leg over his shoulder, eagerly pushing up your skirt-

An ‘I love you’ dances on the tip of your tongue and you reel back harshly, hand flat on his chest to separate you.

“Alright?” He murmurs, eyes half lidded and dark.

You swallow roughly and nod, breathing hard. “I, uh, I need to finish the safe.”

Something passes across his face briefly as your eyes flick between his. Whatever it was, it’s replaced by his usual easy smile as he returns to standing at his full height, the hands on your waist steady you before disappearing. Your stomach drops as they go.

“See you tomorrow.” Kyle murmurs, pressing one last little peck on your cheek before striding away, leaving you alone in the back room with a hot face and whirlwind thoughts.

Fuck.

A/N: brought to you by the time a tattoo artist told me my skin takes ink well in the most haunting bedroom voice I’ve ever heard😵‍💫 killed me right then and there

[retrievablememories]

cherry bomb | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: “get fucked or die” becomes the motto to live by when a serial killer begins targeting virgins on your campus.

genre: smut, horror/slasher, college!au

word count: 7.1k

warnings: multiple minor character deaths, blood, gore, violence (including gun and knife use), mentions of alcohol consumption. virgin-shaming and slut-shaming, oral (fem receiving), riding, virgin!reader, first-time sex, protected sex, hair-pulling, biting, fingering, dirty talk, virgin kink/corruption kink, fuckboy JK. is JK a sub or a masochist here? answer: i don’t fucking know!

a/n: inspired by the movie cherry falls (2000). heed the warnings. remember that this is fiction, not meant to be entirely realistic, and characters' views/actions don't represent my own. if this kind of content is not up your alley just block me or make use of the wonderful filtering option in your account settings

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 2

CHERRY BOMB

don't wanna die? come out and hook up with a sexy girl or guy.

virgins get in free!

THIS FRIDAY

NOV 3, 20XX

[address here]

"very corny." you shake your head, looking at the party flyer in your hands. you'd just torn it down from the bulletin board in your dorm lobby; unauthorized advertisements aren’t allowed, and your job as RA involves these menial-ass tasks. "this is literally life or death...why are they turning it into a joke?"

"it is a joke," your friend camille says, snatching the flyer out of your hands to look it over. "think about it. 10 students get killed since we came back in august, and the semester isn't even over yet. the school administration and local police haven't done nearly enough to address it or stop any more deaths. and the common denominator is that all these people were suspected or confirmed virgins?” you haven’t seen the evidence yourself, but the daughter of one of the local policemen claimed every victim also had virgin carved into some part of their dead body. “yeah, i'd say it's a joke to pretty much everyone at this point. this is what happens when you let the students come up with a solution."

camille hands the flyer back to you, and you hold it limply. "but...it's not like you can look at someone and tell if they're a virgin. the killer must've known them all personally. it just doesn't make sense."

"some of those people had no mutual friends. nothing connecting them whatsoever. not even shared extracurriculars. it's gotta be a perverted stalker with a fetish, maybe. a scorned hacker who somehow got into their private conversations 'n' shit? or maybe he consulted the cards to know who’d fucked before and who hadn’t.”

“oh please.” you scoff. “now you’re being completely ridiculous. tarot cards aren’t gonna tell you if someone’s a virgin or not.”

“then you come up with a better explanation. either way, these folks—" camille points to the flyer "—aren't taking their chances."

"hm..." you keep staring at the flyer, looking at the shiny-red cherries, condoms, sex toys, and other sex-related objects decorating the paper. whoever designed this really wasn't playing.

"so, are you gonna go?" camille asks with a sidelong glance. "free admittance, after all."

your neck burns under the collar of your shirt. "are you?" neither of you have had sex yet, for differing reasons. camille's reason was almost complete indifference to the whole act.

she gives you a look that says i could give a shit. "...you know the answer to that one, dear. so you're not even thinking about it? as much as you have cried to me and lorelai about not being able to find a man you like enough to give it up for, our killer here probably already knows. you practically have a ‘come kill me’ bullseye on your back.”

"i don't know," you say, because you genuinely are thinking about it. “and stop trying to fucking scare me.” despite your logical brain trying to reason with you, you still feel a sense of underlying terror about being the next victim. "the virgin killer," as they'd nicknamed the freak, clearly prefers a specific type of victim, and all kills have been random and unpredictable other than that—and the fact that every victim attended your university. he also seems partial to using a knife on his victims, but even that isn’t guaranteed—3 of the 10 had been killed in ways other than stabbing. "i don’t know why you’re so nonchalant about this, though."

camille shrugs. "if he comes for me, i'll just spray him with my illegal mace and kick his nuts into his throat. then tie him up and wait for my dad to come blow his head off. there are some advantages to having a gun nut for a dad."

you chuckle at the absurdity of it. "you've got it all planned out, then."

--

FRIDAY, NOV 3

taking a rideshare to the party was a smart idea on lorelai's part, because the two little shots you took to pre-game already have you feeling woozy. or maybe it's just your nerves.

the cherry bomb is located at a mansion that isn’t really a mansion, but a large once-abandoned house one of the fraternities fixed up years ago for throwing off-campus parties.

the party is stacked wall to wall with people when you enter, though from what you can see, no one has actually started fucking yet—maybe they're saving that for the supposed orgy later in the night. you just hope you can get someone in one of the backrooms before that happens, because you're not really keen on having everyone in your class knowing what your tits look like.

you have one simple mission here tonight—lose your long-held virginity and get off the virgin killer's radar. once that's done, you'll make your exit.

"actually, i'm surprised anyone else showed up. other than you, who wants to willingly admit that they're still a virgin in college?" lorelai shudders. you roll your eyes and try not to feel offended, sucking your teeth.

"you were more than welcome to stay back at the dorm."

"no! i'm here for moral support, plus i don't want to be alone tonight. i don't care who this killer targets, it's getting too crazy out here to just be letting your guard down anymore."

well, you won't argue that.

you and lorelai dance to the song booming over the multiple speakers, scanning the room for potential hookups all the while. you become more alert when you recognize a familiar length of black hair coming through the front door, plus the tattoos and piercings to match.

you're not surprised jungkook came. he has his pick of untouched and easily corruptible virgins here, which has always been his thing; you've heard him brag about it to his seatmates more than once in your shared elective. not to mention the stories you've heard from the women who actually fucked him. as far as you could figure, it was the usual male ego posturing bullshit about being able to say he was someone’s first—and likely best. for that reason, alarm rises when he makes eye contact and starts making a beeline for where you and lorelai are.

"oh, here comes the campus bicycle," lorelai says, voice deadpan.

you continue watching him from the corner of your eye, trying to see if he's just approaching someone in your general vicinity, but no. once he shoves his way through the crowd of dancers, some unashamedly groping at his body as he does, he stops right in front of you two.

"so, are you here for the same reason i am?" he asks you, grinning like the devil himself. "or are you looking to get that sweet little cherry popped?"

the backs of your knees sweat. "um—latter, i guess." you hadn't meant to answer that honestly, but to say you are caught off-guard is understating it. you can count on one hand the number of times you and jungkook have talked to each other in class, and never about anything of this nature.

"you're not gonna ask me?" lorelai says.

jungkook gives a hearty laugh; you didn't think it was that funny. "everyone knows you're not a virgin, why waste my time?"

"wow, okay. fuck you. you're no saint yourself." she huffs.

"anyway…" jungkook returns his attention to you. "have you really never done anything before? not even sucked a dick? there's no way someone hasn't tried to hit that. not even some 'backdoor action only' like those weird religious girls?"

"is that any of your business? i didn't know we had to give a rundown of our lack of sexual experience before getting laid around here." you snap.

jungkook's eyelids lower a fraction. "i'm tryna decide how easy i should go on you, babe. i mean, if you wanna take this in one of the rooms. otherwise, i'll let someone else have a go if you're not interested."

unfortunately, you are interested, despite his overly blunt manner and objectifying language. even though you know you’ll just become another entry on his long list of flings—someone he’ll tell his boys about later—maybe the fear of death is making you impulsive.

but maybe his looks are playing a part in it, too.

he's imposing with his physique and his all-black attire, his shirt so tight that you can clearly see his pectoral muscles and his nipples, his unbuttoned leather jacket doing nothing to hide those details. you can easily imagine yourself running your hands across those pecs, squeezing them, rubbing your fingers against his nipples and making him moan underneath you, feeling and seeing his abs contract through this stupid-ass shirt that must've been painted on. this brief fantasy immediately dampens your panties.

"…i'm interested," you affirm, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, and he smirks from knowing you were obviously checking him out.

knowing the direction this is going in, lorelai taps you on the back and whispers in your ear. “have fun but don’t do anything stupid, yeah? i’m not playing auntie to any offspring you and this dude pop out, sis. use protection.” then she makes her exit to go find herself a partner for the night.

“so, come on.” jungkook nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow him through the crowd as he leads you up the winding staircase. you squeeze past two girls kissing on the staircase railing, their motions a bit unsure as if they’ve never done it before but clearly still enjoying themselves.

jungkook pushes a few doors in until he finds an empty room, and you try not to ogle at the random couples you see along the way. not even an hour in and the two shots must be wearing off, because your body is beginning to buzz with nervousness again.

jungkook closes the door behind him when you both step into the room, which is lit by one lamp on a nightstand and the open window beside the bed. he reaches for you, and you shiver when his hand grasps the side of your face, the other snaking around your waist.

“scared?” he asks, his voice low. you shake your head, and he grins. “relax.” he leans in as if to kiss you and you part your lips, but he doesn’t do that just yet. he traces your top lip and then your bottom lip with his tongue, dipping it into your mouth as he switches. the teasing nature of his actions makes your body heat up as you watch a string of saliva spread and then break between the both of you.

he presses back in for a real kiss this time, his nose bumping yours. despite all your fears about tonight, you’re able to unwind somewhat and just focus on the full sensory experience that is this kiss—the warmth of his hands and his mouth, the sappy sound your lips make when they separate and come back together, the scent of his cologne, the taste of his spearmint-flavored tongue.

you find yourselves inching toward the bed, him walking you backwards while keeping you steady. just as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, there's the sound of a woman's bloodcurdling scream from behind you, and you nearly shove jungkook to the ground in your haste to run to the door. your fingers are scrabbling at the doorknob when you hear a burst of laughter. a guy you don't recognize crawls out from under the bed holding his phone up, displaying a youtube video of the shower scene in the movie psycho, which is where the noise is coming from.

"that was funny as fuck." the guy laughs obnoxiously loud, holding his stomach. “don’t get too carefree or you just might die, girlie.”

jungkook grabs the guy by his jacket collar like he's a kid and throws him out the door; the guy doesn't object because he knows this is preferable to getting his ass beaten by the bigger man. "fuck outta here, you jackass." jungkook snaps.

jungkook stomps over to the closet to yank it open. "any more idiots in here wanna show themselves?" he checks a couple more areas before deciding the room is clear and closing the door again, locking it for good measure.

“okay.” he sighs, stripping off his jacket and shoes. he takes your hand and pulls you toward him as he sits on the bed. “relax, baby. forget about that fucking clown. come ‘ere. why don’t you sit on my lap?”

with a heavy exhale, you try to steady your still-shaking hands as you shuck your boots off and pull your dress up slightly to comfortably sit in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist.

he squeezes your waist. “so, where were we? i don’t really remember…”

you huff out a half-amused laugh. “really? i’m pretty sure it was this…” you lean forward with your hands on his shoulders and press your lips back onto his. jungkook follows in kind, his hands running up from your thighs to your waist and back again. the rhythm of his hands is hypnotic, distracting you as you try to keep most of your focus on the kiss, and you fear you may be getting overstimulated before anything has truly began.

as you continue kissing, jungkook’s hands creep your dress further up your thighs until your panties are revealed. still feeling up your legs, his hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear. they have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk, though it makes you roll your eyes.

jungkook whispers against your lips, “let’s try something. will you sit on my face?” you stare at him without a word, not expecting this to be the first thing he proposes. at your response, or lack of, he adds, “i want to make you feel good. do you want me to taste you?” his voice is so soft, so unassuming and cloying, that it makes you feel like a lamb clutched gently in the mouth of a wolf.

your brain is already surrendering to it. “yes.”

you get another kiss and a smile. jungkook moves you out of his lap, shuffles further up the bed, and lies down so that he’s flat on his back, his head surrounded by the pillows. he gestures for you to follow.

taking your time, you slide your panties off and crawl up the bed until you’re near his face and he’s lying below you looking like he’s struck gold. he grabs your hips to bring you closer until you’re right over his mouth. you’re embarrassed to have someone looking at you from this angle for the first time, and you’re about to get too into your head about it when he french kisses your inner thigh, blanking out your mind.

the only thing you know from then on is that his mouth is burning hot. his tongue is everywhere. he licks at you delicately to test the waters, and then more firmly when your thighs tremble around his head, in an effort to elicit the same response.

the way he fits his mouth over your entire pussy and sucks it with just the right amount of pressure so that it won’t hurt makes you feel faint. the way he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit only to suck it gently at the end of the stroke makes you cry out louder than you intended. you’re glad he moved further up the bed for this, because you’re holding onto the headboard for dear life.

the only things you’re aware of are your own out-of-control moans and the wet sounds of jungkook’s mouth working you over. all of it has you so overwrought that you’re already reaching your peak, your grip on the headboard weakening.

jungkook seems to know this without you telling him anything. he pauses and looks up at you with a fucked-out smirk and a wet mouth. you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for giving you a break. “before you come, fuck my face.”

“wh-what?”

“rub that wet fucking cunt on my face.” heat flares through your body at his frank words. “grab my hair and just ride my face.” he reaches up to take your hands off the headboard and places them in his hair. “you can do it, baby. fucking use me.”

it takes you a minute to get over the fresh wave of embarrassment and find a pace that works, because the connection between your brain and body feels like it’s frying and your coordination is off. jungkook helps guide your hips, especially with how you’re trembling from pleasure and close to falling apart. soon enough, you’re letting go of yourself and moving your hips enthusiastically, if a little clumsily, and chasing your climax. you savor the feel of your clit sliding across his wet tongue and his soft hair in between your fingers, and you push his head as close as it can get.

you come while screaming, dizzyingly immersed in the pleasure. you forget that you’re holding his hair as you yank roughly on it. the only thing that matters to you is that jungkook’s mouth is still sucking your clit through the best physical sensation you’ve ever experienced.

when he finally lets go and gives you reprieve, you collapse beside him on the pillows.

“i’m sorry,” you mumble, disoriented. “about your hair, i mean?”

jungkook laughs. it’s funny how shiny-wet his face is—and that you caused it, which is kind of hard to believe in the aftermath of it. “the pain is what gets my dick hard. don’t worry.”

you chuckle breathlessly at that, and for a few seconds you both have that funny little moment to yourselves in all the ridiculousness of the overarching situation.

then jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. “i’m not done with that pussy yet, though.” he brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. he slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance, until you’re shifting your hips closer to him to implore him for more. he grants your request by sliding his finger all the way inside.

having a finger inside you feels okay at first, though not as good as his actions a few seconds ago. jungkook decides to amplify your pleasure by placing his lips on your neck, leaving gentle and wet kisses behind, and you become all too aware of the feeling of your hardened nipples against the material of your dress. the pleasure begins to heighten when his finger finds a place inside of you that makes you throb, your walls clenching around him.

“ah…” you gasp and shift eagerly against his body as he keeps stimulating that spot, not thrusting his finger into you but simply stroking it across that area in a come here motion.

jungkook pulls away from your neck to smile at his handiwork. “that’s better, right?” he whispers, watching your reactions. your lips form around the word yes, though it’s difficult to try to speak, and you worry how unsteady your voice might sound. he waits until you’re clutching at his arm, leaving red lines on his skin from your fingernails, to carefully push another finger in beside the first. you try to breathe evenly, though his refusal to let up on that spot has your lungs stuttering for air all over again. his nose nudges your ear as he leans even closer and whispers, “there are so many different spots to find, so many different ways to make you come; i wanna go looking for them all.”

jungkook angles his hand so that his palm is also stimulating your clit, his fingers thrusting slowly now. you turn your head away from him as your body becomes ablaze, unsure what to do with yourself as your climax nears quickly.

“would you let me do that? learn your body like no one else has done?” he kisses the shell of your ear, and even that small action is enough to tip you closer to the edge with how your body is already so fired up. “who else could make you feel as good?”

this orgasm makes your eyes fill with involuntary tears, and little clear droplets bleed down the sides of your face and towards your ears as your body convulses. jungkook kisses the wet trails they make on your face, still fingering you steadily and forcing another urgent cry out of you. you feel untethered from yourself, like you’re not in control of your reactions, and you don’t know whether to be afraid of that or not.

jungkook pulls his fingers out when you have mostly calmed down, watching strands of your wetness drip between them before sliding them into his mouth.

after you come the second time, you begin to tire. the deeds have been done, and if you want, you can confidently go back out to the party now and say you’re no longer a virgin; you’re off the unofficial kill list and can live the rest of your days without having to look over your shoulder with every breath.

…but jungkook is hard against your hip, and in all honesty, you don’t want to leave without knowing what his dick looks and feels like.

“you tired?” he asks, and the casual air of it makes your stomach flip, for some reason. he says it as if this is something you two do all the time and he’s used to asking you this after wearing you out during a good session.

but now’s not the time to get delusional.

“no. i want more.”

jungkook smiles broadly, teasing his lip ring with his teeth. he sits up to peel that skin-tight shirt off, and you don’t bother to stop yourself from staring at all that skin in front of you. your eyes drop further down when he removes his belt and undoes his jeans, pushing his pants and underwear down enough for you to see his v-line but not taking them off. is that an invitation for you to do it? "you hold the reins here," he says, lying back on the bed again. "do whatever you want to me."

“whatever i want?” you repeat, already sitting up. he nods, hands behind his head, and you take the initiative to straddle him again, knowing you’re getting his jeans wet.

you reach for his pecs first, just like you’d imagined downstairs. the firm muscle of them is mesmerizing; but when you slowly circle your thumb against his nipple and his eyes flutter, a small and breathy moan escaping his lips, you’re sure you enjoy this much more.

you play with his nipples and even work up the boldness to purse your lips around one, sucking it softly, and every noise that arises from him makes your clit tingle.

you eventually move your hands to his abs, enjoying how they flex at your touch. you didn't think his navel would be pierced, not hearing that detail in any of the sex tales you've eavesdropped on about jungkook, and you wonder what else you might find out about him tonight.

“you should do your nipples to match.” you suggest it without much thought as you’re teasing his navel piercing, though you don’t regret saying it.

“would you be into that?” jungkook sounds like he’s actually considering it, watching you from below his lashes.

you grin. you don’t know if you’ll actually end up having sex with him again to see them, but you answer, “i’d love it…it’d be sexy on you.”

sliding your hands further down still, you come to the waistband of his underwear, which is peeking over the top of his lowered jeans. for a second the nervousness returns; jungkook notices how your hands twitch with hesitation. “it’s fine, i’m not gonna bite you…unless you ask me to, though. here.”

he slips a hand into his underwear and grips his dick, though he doesn’t take it out right away; he strokes the shaft a few times, observing your reaction with expectant and hazy eyes. the scene before you makes your mouth dry. jungkook quickens his pace, twisting his hand at the tip and using his own precum as lube, until you are overcome with the desire to see it and you pull his underwear out of the way.

his cock is thick and flushed and glossy with precum. you don’t have much to compare it to, but it’s a good size, and all the previous women have said that he clearly knows what to do with it. he releases it and it slaps against his abs, leaving a streak of precum behind. when you look at him in anticipation of what he’ll do next, he grasps it again and starts stroking himself quickly, like he’s trying to get off. the wet slap of his motions and his quiet groans make your walls clench.

“i could keep fucking myself and you could watch, since you seem to prefer it…” he murmurs.

“no, i—let’s go all the way.”

jungkook smirks and answers your decision by pulling a condom out of his jean pocket. you watch as he unwraps it and slips it down his cock. though you’re already straddling him, he grasps your wrist and encourages you to draw nearer to him. “come here, pretty thing.”

when you’re hovering directly over him, jungkook grips the base and teases his tip against your entrance. “ready?” he asks.

“yeah,” you say breathlessly.

it’s a little slow-going, but you eventually end up with him seated inside you. it’s uncomfortable to be taking something bigger than a couple fingers, but it isn’t terribly painful.

“now, try moving your hips like this…” with his hands on your hips, jungkook helps you grind against him so that your clit slides across his pubic bone with every move. the discomfort begins to ebb out of your mind after a little while of doing this, and you laugh quietly.

“i thought…i thought this doesn’t feel good for men,” you sigh, your eyes closing from the bliss of his firm abdomen stimulating your clit. “this grinding thing, you know. or so a friend told me…”

jungkook laughs too, but he doesn’t confirm it like you expect him to. his only answer is, “a sexy woman on my dick will always feel good.”

he seems to be more about showing than telling, anyway. his hands reach for your breasts, groping them over the fabric of your dress before sliding underneath for better access. sporadic moans escape you as he plays with your nipples, making your clit throb harder and sending more warmth pooling in your abdomen.

your breath wheezes out of you when jungkook starts pushing up into you, his hands still squeezing your breasts. “you’re okay, baby…” he tries a few different angles until he pulls a visceral reaction out of you, your walls fluttering around him and your body shivering intensely. “mmm, there it is.”

your motions start tapering off as jungkook continues thrusting up against that same spot that had you in tears earlier. noticing this, he slips one hand back down to your hip and encourages you to maintain your pace, keeping your clit stimulated while meeting his thrusts. “you’re doing good…” he murmurs. “go ahead, keep fucking me just like that.”

you’re glad lorelai makes you go to the campus gym with her every week, because otherwise you’d be about to collapse riding him for this long. it takes more of your strength and stamina than you’d expected. no wonder jungkook stays in the gym.

“oh, fuck…” the way all his muscles flex as he repeatedly pushes up into you makes you wetter; you no longer have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the gushy noises your pussy is creating. your whole world has whittled down to this one room, and all you can think about is your next orgasm.

“pull my hair again,” he requests, his eyes dark and lost in lust when he looks up at you.

"jungkook..." you grip his sweaty hair in your hand and pull it to bare his throat, and he gives a desperate moan, his member jerking inside you. you've never felt so in control of a situation before in your life. it gives you a straight adrenaline-slash-dopamine rush.

his neck is just there and exposed, flushed from exertion, and his physical responses make you feel so primal, like you could do absolutely anything to him right now and he’d enjoy it. because of this, you decide to bite his neck, if only to give your mouth something to do. his dick twitches again when you do, another pretty moan leaving his mouth.

his voice is strained when he says, “bite me harder.” when you let go, your mouth travels the expanse of his neck to leave marks in a few other places, digging in harder just as he asked of you.

“fuck, y/n—” the pain of your teeth is pushing him close to the edge too soon, so he slips his other hand out from under your dress and brings it lower to circle his fingers over your clit. jungkook adding his experienced fingers to his constant stimulation of your g-spot is enough to cause your release. your body slumps onto his as you squeeze around him, your head falling into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and your eyes shutting so tightly that you see wobbling shapes in the darkness.

jungkook gives you a few more thrusts rougher than the rest, causing you to cry out. your climax and the aftershocks have your mind so dizzy that you only just realize that he’s reaching his own peak, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he fills the condom with his cum. you hear him groan next to your ear, the sound of it filthy and uninhibited.

jungkook lifts your head from his shoulder, his thumbs on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours in a final slow kiss, his teeth leaving their mark on your bottom lip as a parting reminder.

you're still trying to get your bearings and slide him out of you when jungkook suddenly says, "what is that noise?"

"huh?" you remain immobile for a moment so you can listen more clearly, and you recognize the sounds of screaming and feet pounding on the floors in a bid to run away—both upstairs and downstairs. these don't sound like the same screams of pleasure from earlier. "what the hell?"

you and jungkook scramble to collect your clothes and get dressed, thankful that neither of you stripped down completely, and he throws the used condom into a random corner of the room. you're still making last minute adjustments when jungkook stands up and unlocks the door.

"the fuck is—?" his voice cuts off as if he can't finish his thought.

"what? what is it?" you stand up to get a better view around his body in the doorway, and you scream when you see a lone blonde girl lying a few feet away from the door, slumped against the opposite wall with a slashed throat. her pink party dress bleeds red, and her face that catches the illumination of the string lights glints with tear tracks. you look away from her unseeing eyes before you can cry out again.

jungkook seems confused, peering down the other end of the hallway like there'll be someone there to explain. "it...didn't work?" he asks to no one in particular, as you have no answer. you walk farther back into the room as if putting more distance between you and the body will provide some protection. bumping against the window sill, you turn around to look out the window and see several cars peeling out of the makeshift grass parking lot, nearly running over other people or hitting other cars on the way. you release a stifled scream from behind your hands when someone is too disoriented to get out of the way of the speeding cars and is sent flying through the air before landing painfully, their body now unmoving. the offending car never stops to check on them.

the screaming downstairs worsens, countless voices rising to a fever pitch of shouting and wailing, and you imagine this must be what the pits of hell sound like. jungkook whips around to look at you. “we gotta get the fuck out of here.”

you two inch out of the room with him in the lead, peering into jarred-open doorways to see if anybody could be waiting in the shadows. there are a couple of other bodies in two other rooms, and you wonder—even with the loud music constantly reverberating through the house, did you really not hear the struggles that led to these deaths in your throes of passion? the thought unnerves you. the idea that maybe you were only saved by jungkook deciding to lock the door…

the stair railing you’d walked by an hour ago is now broken in the middle, splinters of wood lying scattered on the stairs, along with more bodies lying on the steps just as haphazardly. the scene looks like the remnants of a stampede; you hope most of these people are just unconscious and not dead.

the dancefloor is a swarm of people in various states of undress pushing and pulling each other as they rush for the exit. there’s not as many people heading for the back door, everyone attempting to squeeze through the main entrance in their unthinking panic, so jungkook grabs your arm and the two of you pick your way through the bodies to get down the stairs as best you can. when you enter the mass of people, you’re exceptionally glad for his strength because it’s easier to get through the opposing crowd.

to reach the back door, you must first get through the kitchen. beside the kitchen entrance in a dark corner, you see someone doubled over and grasping the person in front of them for stability.

you realize belatedly that they have a knife in their stomach; the other person standing over them is the virgin killer himself, calmly watching them suffer.

the killer’s face is hidden by the mask he always wears, which you are seeing for the first time now, up-close—a hairy werewolf head with lemon-yellow eyes and a candy-red tongue. it’s so unexpected that you would’ve found it comedic if not for the context.

a guy in a blue sweater grasps the killer from behind in an attempted surprise attack, causing him to jerk the knife out of the other person’s stomach. the sudden movement causes a spray of blood to come flying off the knife, and you have to hold back vomit when drops of the warm, stinking crimson hit your face. though it feels like time has slowed to a mere creep, all of this happens within seconds.

you don’t see much more before jungkook is forcing you to move again.

you, jungkook, and multiple others barrel out of the back patio door, nearly ripping the flimsy screen door off its hinges in your haste, while the classmate in the blue sweater fruitlessly struggles with the killer in the kitchen. your leg muscles flex harder when you hear the person's agonized shout and the mushy rip of flesh being torn seconds later. almost everyone else has taken the same idea to run for their lives rather than stay and try to fight or disarm the killer; the streets are dotted in every direction with students running for any possible safety, many not having arrived to the party in cars to escape in.

thankfully, jungkook is not one of them.

he grasps your wrist painfully hard in his panic and yanks you in the direction of his car, which is so pitch black that you almost didn't see it sitting in the shadows.

when you get inside, you've never been so grateful to be within the safe metal enclosure of a car in your whole life. hands shaking, jungkook jams the key into the ignition and presses the gas pedal so hard your head jerks against the headrest. however, in your temporary relief, you think of lorelai. your vision doubles as you scramble to open your phone and call her, your head spinning with a new spike of fear. it rings for a while with no answer, and you try two more times only to get the same result.

"maybe she got to safety somewhere else?” jungkook tries to reason with you, his eyes bouncing between your face and the road ahead so he doesn't hit any other cars or any random students still running across the streets. "i didn't see her anywhere in the house before we ran out."

"that just means she could be hiding somewhere in there!" you shriek, unable to control your terror at your friend possibly being trapped in the house with the killer.

"well—maybe just let her stick it out, he won't find her if she just—"

"oh god, but i called her like three fucking times; what if he heard the phone ringing? i'm gonna kill myself."

“y/n, you’re overreacting like shit, there’s no way he’d hear a phone ringing in all that noise—"

unlistening, you drop your phone and bang your fists on your head in frustration and anguish.

sighing deeply, jungkook forgoes any attempt to do a 3-point turn, which requires more coordination than he has at the moment, and drives straight up into someone's yard to make a U-turn back toward the house.

you hadn’t gotten too far from the party house, so in another minute or two and with a couple messy turns that cause the wheels to ride up onto the curb, you’re back on the street leading up to the house. before you can reach it, though, jungkook slams on the breaks, and you have to throw your hands out onto the dashboard to avoid flying into it due to not fastening your seatbelt. you’re not very successful; the move hurts your wrists, and you’re pretty sure some of your ribs just got bruised anyway.

“what the fuck?” jungkook shouts.

the virgin killer with his lycanthrope mask is standing in the middle of the street; he turns to face the car. he has a chokehold grip on a guy you recognize as a popular frat member, who is almost bare except for his blue-plaid boxers. you remember seeing the frat guy dancing with his girlfriend when you and lorelai initially entered the party; he was in the group of guys who put this whole party together as a way to “save” the campus’s virgins.

the virgin killer is holding a gun to the guy’s head, and you have no clue where he might’ve gotten it from. the guy’s demeanor is weak, and he’s barely able to stand, which is obviously from the profuse blood loss he’s suffering; the killer has carved sharp letters into his stomach to form two words—“FAIR GAME.”

“fair game?” you mumble, a sickly realization forming in your mind.

“fuck no—" jungkook is already throwing the car into reverse when you hear and see the first bullet go off, exploding the frat member’s head into an unrecognizable mess and making you scream at the top of your lungs. you hear more shots after you close your eyes and tuck your body down, along with the sounds of bullets splitting metal and hitting glass, and you think you might be actively dying—or maybe you’re already dead. even that would be preferable to experiencing this nightmare.

you can’t think as you feel the whole world spinning, your body tossed violently around. in reality, the only thing moving is jungkook’s car as he whips the vehicle around and speeds down the same street you just traveled up.

for a few long minutes, you only hear your own heartbeat, his murmured and frantic curses, and the strained breaths coming from both of you. you keep your body curled up with your knees tucked to your chest and arms over your face. the car’s engine roars as it races down the highway.

you’re afraid to open your eyes and find out, but you have to at some point. plus, the uncomfortable position is making your body hurt. carefully, you unfurl yourself and turn to look at him. “did you get hurt?”

“uhh—no? i don’t think…?” he takes one hand off the wheel to feel up his body as if he’s just realizing that might be a possibility. “but i’m wired off pure adrenaline right now, so give me a few more minutes to be sure…” he looks to you. “are you?”

“no.” your blood still runs cold at the thought of lorelai being stuck in the house or navigating the dark neighborhood streets at this time of night. maybe she doesn’t even have her phone; maybe it was lost in the commotion. the number of possible scenarios makes you ill.

there’s silence for a while; you assume he must not be hurt after all. you start seeing familiar roads that lead back to the campus, and the gears in your mind begin turning, powered by fear.

“do you think it’s safe to go back to the college?” you ask, your voice small.

after a pause jungkook asks, “why not?” though his face begins to look like he’s second-guessing things.

“the killer could go back to the campus…i don’t know. there was so much violence tonight. it’s like he really has a grudge against the students from our school or something. what if he wants more victims? the campus police are already incompetent, but with most of them off the grounds and on their way to the party house…” you don’t finish your thought. you’ll need to warn camille of the potential danger.

“right, yeah…” jungkook’s hands flex around the steering wheel a few times. “we should…probably go somewhere else, then.”

nowhere feels safe. still, you ask, “where?”

changing his route, jungkook glances over at you. “to a friend’s house.”

[mayanneaa]

sneaking around the christmas tree - ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ.

PAIRING : jj maybank x reader

SUMMARY : you catch jj trying to open the christmas presents at 3 a.m.

WARNING(S) : none! not proofread

A/N : yall i started writing when it was sunny then it snowed and its sunny again its almost Christmas with NO SNOW?!! (dividers by @roseraris)

WC : 0.6k

masterlist.

You stir under the three layers of blankets, woken up by the creaking floor of the Chateau. JJ’s warmth, earlier centrally on top of you, is gone. You huff as you sit up, only to notice your boyfriend’s not in the bed.

You grab one of the blankets, your mind and movement still heavy with sleep, and quietly leave the guest room.

The whole house still smells of gingerbreads. Christmas is only hours away, so all of you decided to get the Chateau ready. You and Kie spent most of the time putting on the decorations, while Sarah and Pope prepared the food. As for John B. and JJ… they were supposed to find some pretty ornaments and a Christmas tree.

You walk through the dark room, following the sound. You see a moving light around the corner, next to the tree. There's a rustle of papers, and you grimace.

"Shit..."

A voice appears, making you hold back a laugh. When you come even closer, you spot the intruder—too focused to even notice you right behind his back.

JJ's sitting on the floor, checking all the gifts under the tree. He helps himself with his phone's flashlight, chaotically trying to find the boxes addressed to him. To your surprise, nothing's torn apart yet.

You stand there, watching him with an amused look, and once he finds the one dedicated to him, you nudge his back with your foot.

He jumps up screaming, the gift falling out of his lap. You can’t hold it in anymore— a laugh escapes your lips, cutting through JJ’s heavy breathing.

“Shut up, you’re gonna wake everybody up!” you whisper, covering your mouth. He puts a hand on his heart and gives you a hhh look.

“It’s not funny!” JJ snarls, praying you don’t see how red his face is in the moonlit room.

“It’s hilarious. Even my little cousins are patient enough to wait until the morning!”

He rolls his eyes and gets up, a shiver crawling down his spine as he comes up to you and nudges your arm, wanting you to cover him with the blanket too. You giggle as you do so.

“It’s not fair,” You hear his muffled voice through your hair, “I get up, sit on the cold ass floor for this long only for you to scold me? Where’s the good Christmas spirit?”

You snort into his chest, pushing him out of the room. “Get out.”

The next morning comes by, the chatter filled with excitement waking you and JJ. He groans into your neck, but as soon as he hears Kie says “presents”, he's already on his feet, running to the living room.

Everyone is surrounding the tree. Sarah and John B. are cuddling on the couch, and Kie is pacing around while Pope is curled up on the floor.

JJ quickly settles next to Pope, pulling you with him. When everyone's ready, Kiara kneels next to the big pile of gifts.

You all agreed to do a Secret Santa: Kiara drew your name, you drew Pope's, Pope drew John B.'s, John B. drew JJ's, JJ drew Sarah's, and Sarah drew Kiara's.

For Pope, you decided a little telescope kit would be perfect. He's been discussing spotting some constellations in the Outer Banks for a while now. You neatly wrapped it in maroon paper, with a golden ribbon.

"Alright, so who's going first?" Kie asks with her hands on her hips.

JJ's quick to put up his arm, but you smash it down halfway in the air. He looks at you with a frown, pouting his lips.

"Karma," you whisper, "You don't want me to rat you out, do ya?"

He rolls his eyes but stays quiet. You can see his leg bouncing, unable to wait any longer, and you can't help but smile. Seeing him so happy, surrounded by all your friends, makes you realize just how much these moments matter. After everything, this is where you belong. With these people, in this place.

"What?" He catches your gaze, and you don't even try to hide it.

"Nothing, Jay. Merry Christmas."

[shanastoryteller]

Happy love day Shana! Could I ask you for either WWX and Jiang Yanli run away or for the AU where John never goes missing and Sam stays at Stanford and he and Jess get married and then Jess calls Dean and John when Sam goes missing (from this post: https://www.tumblr.com/shanastoryteller/766664341635448832/au-where-john-doesnt-go-missing-dean-never-gets) ? It's too hard to pick between those, they're both so good!!

a continuation of 1

Dean's just getting off from a salt and burn when he gets a call from an unknown number and almost doesn’t answer it. He needs bed and a shower and not in that order, but you can never know in this profession, so he rubs a hand over his face and says, “Hey.”

There’s a girl and she’s crying and that’s already waking him up when she says, “Dean?”

“That’s me, sweetheart,” he says, not recognizing her voice. He’ll figure out how she got his number later. “You okay?”

She takes a steadying breath. “Sam’s in trouble and I need your help.”

His blood goes cold. Sam. His little brother who he hasn’t spoken to in five years.

She won’t get into specifics, only gives him an address in San Francisco and tells him to get there as fast as he can. He curses down the line and she just hangs up on him. He almost calls her back, but he figures the fastest way to get some answers is to get his ass over there like she told him too.

But first, he has to call Dad.

John not the most reliable form of backup, Dean’s been hunting mostly on his own for years, and at least half the time Dean says that he could use a hand, he gets brushed off, but Dad will come this time.

He’ll come for Sam.

~

The smoking hot blonde who answers the door is tall and steel eyed and has an engagement ring and wedding band on her left hand which Dean doesn’t think much about until she’s looking them head on and says, “Dean, John. I’m Jessica Winchester. We need to find Sam.”

Even Dad – grim and closed mouth with an edge of fury to him that Dean hasn’t seen since Flagstaff – goes blank, staring at her in shock. Dean doesn’t know what his own face is doing.

“Come on,” she says, nudging the door open further. “Anything could be happening to him right now.”

“Wait,” he says. “You’re-”

“Sam and I got married last year,” she says. “We don’t have time for this. Azazel has Sam.”

“Who’s Azazel?” he asks, following her inside. It’s a nice apartment, decent, full of shit like throw pillows and matching dishes and all the things Sam used to crave so badly. The kitchen table is piled with books and papers, thick tomes the likes of which he’s used to seeing at Bobby’s and nowhere else. How did she pull this all together so quickly? She only called him seven hours ago and most of that was the middle of the night.

Unless they already had it. But that doesn’t make sense. Sammy left them, left hunting, why would he –

Jessica rolls her eyes. They’re red, but it seems she’s moved on from the tears to militant determination, but Dean’s still reeling. “The yellow eyed demon.”

Dad goes completely still.

“The what?” he asks.

“The thing that killed your mom,” she says impatiently.

He’s barely processed that when Dad says, “You found it.”

“We found the other kids it targeted,” she says, eyes and voice going colder than when she’d just been speaking to him. “Sam started getting visions a couple years ago and we found a couple of the other psychic kids and then some more. A few months ago they started going missing and we haven’t found any of them. It’s always sulphur and anyone in the same room left for dead. It’s Azazel. He was taking them and now he’s taken Sam and I can’t do this on my own so I called you.” She glares at both of them. “Don’t make me regret it.”

~

Sam wakes up alone in an abandoned town with a splitting headache. Jess is nowhere that he can see, which is good, he thinks. His phone is dead and he’s thinking it’s some sort of ghost or something until he literally walks into Andy.

“Sam!” he says in relief, gripping onto his sleeve. “Oh man, am I happy to see you!”

Ansem, who Sam still thinks isn’t quite sane most days, snorts and crosses his arms. “Yeah, are you? Because if we’re here and Sam’s here that means we’ve probably been taken like all the others. That we haven’t been able to find and have never heard from again.”

Andy wilts. “Oh, right.”

“Come on,” Sam says. “How’s your–”

“Not as good as yours,” Andy says. Ansem frowns. “It’s not and you know it. We all have our specialties for a reason.”

That’s fine. They’re going to figure this out. Jess must have noticed him missing by now and she’ll be looking for him. He doesn’t think about how they’ve been looking for the others for months with no luck.

They hear a scream and they’re running towards it. There’s someone trapped in what looks like an old outhouse, pounding on the door so hard it rattles. Sam doesn’t even think about it, he makes a yanking motion with his hand so the door flies off the hinges and out tumbles Ava.

Who’s been missing for months.

She stumbles out, breathing in air greedily, but she’s already backing away from them, shaking her head, her hands held out. “Don’t make me – I’ll do it, I’ve done it before, but I won’t, not if you don’t make me – please don’t make me–”

“AVA!” he shouts, reaching out for her. She shoves him back, or tries to, but his telekinesis is a lot stronger than hers and there’s nothing she can do to stop him from striding forward and grabbing her shoulders.

She’s struggling against him, nails digging into his arms. “I’ll do it, don’t make me do it, I don’t want to, but I will, I will I will I will!”

He shakes her. “AVA! Stop, calm down. It’s Sam. You’re okay. It’s okay.”

She stops, finally raising her head enough to look at him. There’s something crazed and desperate about her that wasn’t there when he saw her last. She was scared like they were all scared, but she wasn’t like this. “They always say that in the beginning and then they make me do it.”

“Do what, Ava?” he asks, trying to keep his grip form being bruising now that she’s not fighting against him.

Her eyes fill with tears and she whispers, “Kill them.”

He hears Andy go, “Woah, holy shit,” behind him and then the sound of Ansem hitting him.

“No one is killing anyone,” he says firmly. “I’m not killing you and you’re not killing me. Okay?”

“I don’t like it,” she says intensely. “I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“Ava,” he says, ducking down so she has no choice but to look him in the eye. “You don’t have to, okay? If something, who is not one of us, needs killing, then I’ll do it.”

“I can help too,” Ansem says. Then, “Ow!” as Andy steps on his foot.

Her face softens into something that’s finally familiar and her lips twitch up. She leans around Sam and says, “Hi guys.”

“Hi Ava,” they say in unison.

Sam’s starting to get why Dad was always creeped out by him and Dean doing that. “What’s going on? Are you okay? We’ve been looking for you.”

“We thought you were dead,” Ansem says.

Andy adds, “But we’re really glad you’re not!”  

Jesus.

Ava swallows. “They show up in groups. Some we knew, some we didn’t. Sometimes everyone gets along and agrees to work together. Sometimes the backstabbing starts quickly. Azazel is here and if people aren’t killing each other quickly enough, he whispers to them, manipulates them, turns us against each other.”

“Been there, done that,” Ansem says.

Ava doesn’t so much as twitch. “Until it’s just me and them and no one will listen to me, Sam, they keep not listening, until it’s me or them and I don’t want to do it, but I don’t want to die, I really don’t want to die. So I kill them and then it’s just me and then I wake up trapped again until someone gets me out.” Her voice drops. “No matter what I do, I can never get myself out.”

“It’s okay,” he says, even though he feels sick. Of all the possibilities they’d considered, this wasn’t one of them. “We’re going to stick together and figure this out. We’ll get out of here.” He pauses. “Where is here?”

“If you try and walk out, the demons stop you. Some die that way,” she says. “I don’t know. It’s been weeks and it’s already getting warmer, so I’d say somewhere in the middle of America? But everything here is old and no one's phones ever have any service.”

Okay, that’s all bad news, but, “Weeks? Ava, it’s May. You’ve been missing since February.”

She stares, yanking on the edge of her shirt anxiously. “What? No. That can’t – that can’t be right. The days sort blur, but it can’t be – that’s not possible. It hasn’t been that long.”

“When you’re the last one, you just wake up to it starting all over again, right?” Ansem asks. “People haven’t been disappearing all at once. Not the ones we know about, anyway.”

“What? You think Azazel is putting me in some sort of – that he’s just keeping me on ice or something in between,” she cuts herself off, fine tremors in her hands.

Sam hugs her, folding her against him and digging his chin into the top of her head, just like he hugged her the first time she had a panic attack in her kitchen. As if Azazel bleeding in all their mouths as babies wasn’t bad enough, he’s now put Ava through actual hell, turning her into something she never wanted to be and doing who knows what with her body in between. The comforting platitudes are starting to sound false, even though he means them, so he just holds her and lets her cry herself out.

Eventually she gently pushes away from him and rubs her sleeve over her eyes. “Sorry. I – sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says gently. “You’re my friend. We’re going to get out of this together. I’m sorry I wasn’t there before, but I’m here now, okay?”

Her eyes are red and her face is swollen and this time when she smiles, he almost recognizes her. “Okay.”

“Uh,” Andy says nervously, stepping behind Sam and dragging Ansem with him. “We’ve got company.”

He turns and sees someone’s just turned a corner at the other end of the street with his back to them and he’s halfway to pushing Ava towards Andy when he gets close enough for Sam to recognize. His shoulders slump and he shouts, “JAKE! Hey!”

Jake pauses, turning towards them and a grin breaking out across his face as he jogs in their direction. “What the hell? I was in Afghanistan, man.”

“Have fun explaining this to your CO,” he says. If they make it out of here alive.

~

Jess doesn’t know if she’s done the right thing by calling Dean.

It wouldn’t be so bad if John wasn’t here, she doesn’t think, but she’d known better than wasting her breath trying to convince him not to call him. But Sam’s said over and over again that his father’s a good hunter, a good tracker, and they need that right now.

They’ve been losing people, one after another, and it felt like a noose tightening around their necks. And now Sam’s missing and what they’d been doing hadn’t been working so she’d done something else.

He’s still alive. He has to be.

Please let him still be alive. She can’t do this on her own.

“We have to leave for the airport in an hour to pick some people up,” she says. “Lily and Scott’s planes are landing about forty minutes apart.”

“Who’re are they?” John asks.

She swallows down something biting. “Lily can stop hearts and Scott electrocutes things. They’re friends and they’re going to help.”

John’s lips press together but he doesn’t say anything. Dean looks like he’s waiting for a punchline, but it’s no joke.

They’d kept everyone apart before, thinking it would just cause Azazel to take them all together, but that hadn’t done shit and now Sam is gone.

Neither Lily nor Scott had even hesitated. They’d been scared and desperate and confused when she and Sam had met them, like so many of the others, and Sam had been comforting and kind and told them that they weren’t alone, he’d been the one to help them figure out their powers and the one they called when they had nightmares and now he’s gone.

Jess doesn’t know what she’s going to do if they do find Azazel, but she knows she’ll feel a lot better about it with two powerful psychics on their side.

John is stone faced as he looks over their research, but he hadn’t been all that surprised, just like Sam had expected. Dean is still in shock and she’s not even sure which part is throwing him the most – Azazel, Sam being psychic, or that he has a sister-in-law that he’s never met.

They hadn’t had groomsmen or bridesmaids at their wedding. Even after four years of silence, Sam hadn’t felt right about anything else and Jess hadn’t pushed. It kept costs down, at any rate.

He’d been convinced that John and Dean would care more about Sam having Azazel’s blood than theirs. She doesn’t tell them that part, doesn’t tell them anything she doesn’t have to, but she wonders at it, that Sam could both be that convinced they’d hate him for something he couldn’t help and love them that deeply.

Based on the stories, she’d believed it more easily of John than Dean, but she doesn’t know either of them. Not really.

She just knows that she needs Sam and she needs help and as long as they find him, they can figure out the rest later.  

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING FULL !!! PIERRE G. X FEM!READER X CHARLES L. (18+)

summary: it was almost like she had her personal devil and angel.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, pwp, themes of polyamory, threesome, double penetration, standing position, creampie, names (whore/angel/baby) with consent, can’t write for shit sorry, brief mentions of marking

note: how is it that i can write a smut but not my paper? idk either. enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

💌re:moony’s planner is opened!!!

these were supposed to be her “friends”. 

so how did she end up like this; sandwiched between these french speaking bastards and being carried by pierre like a toy meant to be played with? 

she wasn’t sure— all she knew was that her tits were splayed out in the open while her holes were filled with their cocks, her tongue tangling with charles’ before she leans back to make out with pierre, who continued fucking her from behind with his arms scooping up her legs as they spread wide open for him and the ferrari driver. 

“so beautiful, mon ange,” charles murmured, watching her moan beautifully as she tried to keep her arms around his neck, bouncing up and down the two cocks as she cried about how stuffed she felt.

“you look so pretty like this— so fucked out by me and pierre.” he reached up to wipe the tears away from her face and licked his thumb clean. “doin’ so good for us.” 

pierre chuckled from behind, his girth stretching her hole wide as he slapped her ass. she let out a squeak, the clenching of her walls making charles and pierre moan incoherently as pierre gritted his teeth in pleasure, “tu es une si bonne petite pute, bébé.” you are such a good little whore, baby. 

she let out an inaudible moan as she sunk deeper to their cocks, feeling them as they stuffed her full. the only thing stopping them from rubbing up against each other was a tiny wall that had her asking for more. 

but this never stopped pierre’s filthy words from slipping out of his mouth, his arm continuing to snake under her legs to rub on her clit— watching her writhe over the two of them as he grinned darkly, “you like this huh? being shared between the two of us?” he tutted quietly, “do you want to be shared with other men, too, bébé?” 

“n- no,” she sobbed, tears now flowing out of her eyes as the two of them thrusted up at her. “only wan’ you and charles, pierre. only want your cocks…” 

“what else do you want, mon ange?” charles, god fucking love his soul, spoke so sweetly at her as if she hadn’t just been called a good whore by pierre. 

it was like she had her own devil and angel. except from their cocks were spearing inside her like there is no tomorrow. 

“yeah, tell charles what you want, mon bébé,” pierre laughed mockingly as her body convulsed above the two, their thighs flexing as they both kept her strained in one place. 

they both stood there with their thick cocks resting inside her holes snugly, reaching their climax as much as she was while she babbled— already too dumbfounded by the way their bodies handled hers like she weighed nothing.

“wanna— fuck, i-“ she sobbed again, wanting to reach out to kiss pierre behind her only to have him pulling away while he demanded for her to speak about her wants. she babbled, “i wanna cum so bad~ please, pierre- charles. please pleaseeee~” 

charles, who gave open mouthed kisses on her nipples and marked her tits purple, pulled her chin down to give her a sweet kiss, fucking up into her cunt while he reached his high. 

pierre continued to groan aloud and grit his teeth, his cock being clenched tightly by her walls as he began thrusting his hips up roughly. “fuck, fuck, fuck— good fucking whore, baby, keep clenching around me like that-“ 

“i- ngh~ hah~ fuuuuck~ i’m cummin’, cumming~ i can’~” 

“doin’ so good f’me, mon amour,” charles moaned out.

“so, fuck- full,” she mumbled, her voice turning into a high pitched scream as she reached her orgasm, her toes curling as she clenched around the two cocks inside her. 

“fuck!” pierre swore aloud, coating her walls white with his cum as he twitched inside her.

“putain!” charles muttered, his hips thrusting up as he came inside her cunt.

both men, with their orgasms dying down, laid her to the bed gently as they both watched her body limp down to the mattress. they both stared in amazement— liquids escaping her fucked out holes as she tiredly squirmed in her place, eager to hold them close.

“such a beautiful girl we have,” charles gestured towards the woman as pierre nodded.

“pretty little woman,” pierre chuckled proudly, patting charles on the chest before he climbed up the bed to snuggle with the girl. “looking so beautiful with our cums in your holes, ma cherie.” 

“so full,” she mumbled with a sweet smile. 

“yes, that’s right,” charles joined the two in the bed, wrapping his arm around her waist as his fingers made unidentifiable shapes and traces over her stomach. “stuffing you full. anything for our girl.” 

[bandgie]

The One That Got Away

synopsis: Hyunjin is nothing more than a playboy you wish you had zero history with. You wish he feels the same, but he can't seem to forget the night you ran from him.

warning!: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, oral (f!rec), teeth use (i have to), fingering, cum eating, dry humping (brief)

notes: this is a request that took me way too long to write

3.8k words

“No.”

Hwang Hyunjin blinks. He awkwardly shifts on his feet, standing at the front of the classroom two feet shy away from you. He had made sure to ask you once everyone left. When you were busy stacking the papers the students turned in for grading. Your unamused eyes looked away from his still form, hoping he’d get the message and leave, but of course, he didn't.

“No?” He parrots. “I really need to pass this course.”

“And I really need to grade the papers,” you slap the stack on the desk. When you applied to be a teaching assistant for your professor, you thought it would be simply grading and answering emails. Instead, you’re teaching class, helping students who are either too tired or high to understand what you’re saying. It got to the point that you begged Professor Bang for another TA, one that’s specifically for tutoring. 

“But Jisung told me to ask you. All of his slots are full,” his usual cocky eyes fill with uncertainty. “Is this because of…the thing?”

You freeze at the mention, swearing that your heart stops beating. A flash of memories infiltrate your mind as you're forced to recall his hands on your body, the feeling of his warm breath on your neck as you pushed up against him. It was before the semester started. Before you knew that Hwang Hyunjin would be one of your professor’s students. 

The first time he saw you.

You clear your throat, carefully putting the papers in your bag. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But your half-irritated half-nervous demeanor gives it away. It’s enough for Hyunjin to smile, propping himself against the desk almost flirtingly. “You don’t? Well, I do. You were wearing that cute little tank top and-”

“Jisung is the one in charge of tutoring,” you cut him off and pray he can't see the blood rushing to your face. “If he doesn’t have a slot open, I’ll make him open one up. Don’t bother me about shit that isn’t my problem.”

There’s a small victorious feeling when you see his smile drop. When his limbs look more lanky than confident as you take your leave. The reason your hips sway is because of your heels, not because of the piercing gaze you know Hyunjin is giving your back.

-

Luck is hardly, if ever, on your side. Or maybe it was just Jisung’s pretty eyes practically begging you to take just one student to tutor that made you cave. 

“Just one time, please! I’m filled with students already!”

“I don’t see any sessions for Saturday.”

“It’s mine and Minho’s anniversary that day! Pleeease!”

You tune out the remembered conversation to focus on your outfit instead. It was Hyunjin’s idea to meet at a cafe, though you weren’t sure if they were open this late. You slide your clothes across the rack, looking for a jacket when a familiar tank top catches your eye. Gently, you pull it from the closet to further inspect it. 

You were wearing that cute little tank top…

The material is tight, purposely so that your chest pushes together for extra cleavage. It makes you look nice, so much so that Hyunjin couldn’t take his eyes off you that night. Were you a student? No, Hyunjin knew almost everyone, especially pretty girls. There’s no way you would have slipped under his radar. Asking you to dance was pure alcohol on his side, you grinding your ass against his crotch was on yours.

There isn’t much to the memory, you left before things got too serious. But you remembered the night when you woke up the day after and apparently, so did Hyunjin when you walked into the classroom to introduce yourself as their TA.

Wearing the same tank top would be foolish. It would only show Hyunjin that you did remember, that you did like the way he felt against you even through all the clothes and people bumping against you. Logically, you should toss the top back into the closet.

You saved thinking logically for your assignments. 

-

Hyunjin was having a hard time looking at your eyes. You were explaining the critical differences between an independent and a dependent variable, but those pretty lips moving would occasionally sip on the staw. Your lips would purse and your tongue would stretch out to firmly hold onto it while you drank. Your throat would gently bob, and now you licked the remaining liquid from your lips to continue talking. 

Whenever you help Hyunjin write, his eyes lock with your chest. That damned tank top barely doing anything to help the spilling of your tits. The same ones he groped from behind you during that night, daring to dip underneath that material just before you fled.

“Why did you run away?”

You pause in the middle of your sentence to look up at him, leaning back to properly scan his face. Hyunjin hadn’t meant to speak out loud, but he can't find himself regretting it when you cock your head to the side in confusion. “From what?”

“The thing.”

You groan, grabbing your cup and furiously drinking it. “Can you stop it with the thing? That was months ago.” You keep sipping in hopes of Hyunjin dropping it, but he leans closer from the other side of the table as he says, “I don’t think so. You were all up on me and then dipped. I can’t get over it.”

“First of all,” you raise a manicured finger at him. “You were the one on me, let's get that straight. Secondly,” you put up a second digit, “You’re gonna have to get over it. I didn’t wanna fuck you then and I don’t wanna fuck you now.” Horrified eyes from nearby tables turn in your direction. You silently curse yourself and embarrassingly suck on the straw. “This isn’t a place where we should talk about this.”

Hyunjin nods, agreeing with you for what seems like the first time ever. “You’re right. Let’s go to mine.” He begins to pack his things without waiting for your response. You scowl at him, watching as he leaves a generous tip for the waiter and stands. 

You don’t know why you follow him and you don’t want to know. His place is only a few blocks away from the cafe, but the street feels like it stretches on forever in the night. Hyunjin keeps you on the inner sidewalk, huffing about how you shouldn’t walk close to the streets. You’d think it was cute if the person was someone other than him, so you only bicker in return. 

It’s only when you enter his apartment that you fall silent. You thought his place would be trashed, maybe even some female underwear lying around somewhere, but it’s cozy. Clean enough to know that he keeps it up, but still having things thrown around to know he frequents here. Books sprawled open, only a few dishes in the sink, and random splashes of paint on the hard floor as if he spilled. 

“Not bad, huh?” He smiles at your ogling. You huff and turn your head away from him, “I never said it was good.” Hyunjin chuckles, gesturing to the small living room as he makes his way to his smaller kitchen. 

“I got chocolate muffins, grapes… instant ramen…” he trails off, obviously desperate to look for something good to offer. “I assume knock-off Oreos are off the table?” Against your better self, you smile. You remember being a struggling undergrad, living off cheap ramen and tap water. “I’m okay, thanks.”

He nods, “Good. ‘Cuz that has to last me ‘till my next paycheck.”

You look at him both amused and perplexed. “Then why did you even offer me anything?” Hyunjin flops beside you on the couch, letting his limbs stretch, “Because I’m a good host. Am I supposed to let a pretty girl starve instead?”

Ah, there he is. It’s hard to believe that Hyunjin is anyone but a flirt. It’s even harder to believe that his little tricks actually worked, even almost on you. “Does that always work for you?” He cocks his pretty head to the side, dark hair falling over his eyes in the process, “Does what?”

You gesture to his body; the open legs, the sly smirk, the nonchalant slouch that he’s practiced, “This whole…act. You being all hot and flirty so girls will sleep with you.” Hyunjin’s eyes widen. He shifts in his seat, uncomfortable with your observation. It only takes a cool ruffle of his hand through his hair before he says, “I dunno. Is it working?” He laughs borderline obnoxiously while your nose scrunches in distaste. “Hardly. I’d say it’s having quite the opposite effect.”

A wicked smile finds his beautiful lips. “Is that so?” Hyunjin gently places his hand on your thigh, letting his thumb rub on the smooth surface of your skin. He leans towards you, hair tickling your neck as he whispers, “How about now? You feeling any different?”

He expects you to roll your eyes, maybe even push him away, but you don’t. You’re too busy trying to ignore the pumping of your heart. It’s loud in your ears, thump thump thump.

You open and close your mouth, not sure of what you should say. Shoving him away should be your next move, but being this close to him only reminds you of the party. His breath is warm on your skin, so much like that night. Hyunjin doesn’t creep his hand up, but you're silently wishing he could. You want to feel him touch you again. You want his fingers to dig into the flesh of your breasts, leaving marks in their wake. 

“Why’d you run?” He asks again. 

You can’t ignore him now. Not when the truth crawls up your throat and leaves your tongue. “I didn’t mean to. I just had never…” You turn your head away. A part of you wants to run away again. To leave this awkward, yet alluring situation. You want to go back to the comfort of your room, rotting in your bed while graduates and undergraduates live the college life you know isn’t meant for you.

Hyunjin doesn’t let you escape this time, not without an answer at least. One hand finds your chin, gently turning it until you’re forced to look at him. His eyes are anything but impatient like you thought they’d be. They’re intent, watchful, and gleaming. They drop to your tongue swiping against your lips then back to your eyes.

God, you want to kiss him.

“You just never what?”

Screw it. You close the distance. With your eyes closed, you pray that you find his lips aimlessly. Hyunjin lets out a surprised mmf! when you make contact. He lets your lips mold around his, moving his hand from your chin to the back of your neck to steady himself. He presses you slightly harder against him, forcing your mouth to open just the tiniest bit so he can get the first taste of you.

The gentle sounds of smacking turn wetter. You quietly whimper against his mouth and you feel him smile. Hyunjin tugs you. Once, twice, before you finally get the message to sit on his lap. You only break the kiss for a short second before your back on them, ignoring the nervousness pooling in your stomach as you straddle him. 

Hyunjin pulls from your mouth to kiss your cheek, down your jawline until he bites your earlobe. You cry out, gripping his shoulders and slightly trembling in his hold. His hands squeeze your waist, unintentionally making you rub against his crotch.

“Look at that,” he whispers in your ear. “Who’s on who now?” Hyunjin giggles when you bury your face in his neck. His hands roam lower until they find the fat of your ass. You stiffen, arching your back just the slightest so he can have more to grab. With his hands on you, Hyunjin slowly grinds you on his crotch. You feel his hard-on, the bulge pressing against your cunt so deliciously it scares you.

Hyunjin notices the difference. He picks his head from your neck and you do the same. 

“You said you've never done something before,” you can see him connecting the two, but you already know he’s going to arrive at the wrong answer. “Did you mean, like? You’re still a virgin?”

You shake your head, red from both embarrassment and arousal. “Not like that. I just mean, I’ve never had…a hookup.”

He raises his eyebrow. “You? Never?”

“Nope.”

“But you’re like, a graduate. And you’re hot.” Hyunjin wiggles his eyebrows and you playfully push him. “Thanks, but none of those really matter. I get awkward if it’s not someone I know. That’s why I usually…”

He finishes for you, “Run away.” 

You nod. 

“Well…” Hyunjin moves his hands back to your waist, lifting you until you’re back seated on the couch. Disappointment fills you. You weren’t sure if you necessarily wanted to fuck Hyunjin, but you definitely didn’t want to be rejected by him at the very least. You don’t want to feel humiliated, but you do. You’re about to get up and practically scurry for the front door before he parts your legs.

Hyunjin hooks one over his shoulder while the other hangs over the couch limp. He leans his head down, stomach flat on the cushions as he nudges against your thighs. He shoots you a sly smile, “Guess we’ll just start slow then.”

You bite your lower lip when his fingers diligently work your buttons. Hyunjin leans closer and takes hold of the zipper in his mouth. “This okay wit’ you?” You giggle from his muffled words, nodding. “Mhm. I honestly thought you were gonna tell me to leave.”

His eyebrows shoot up, surprise evident in his face as he drags the zipper down. “What?” He says as he shuffles your pants down. “Why would I do that?” You shrug, but there’s a pink hue in your cheeks. “I dunno. I was thinking maybe you’d like someone who knew what they were doing.”

Hyunjin blows a raspberry, concentrating on getting your tight jeans off until they’re nothing but a pile of clothes on the floor. He settles back between your legs, eyes lighting up at the sight of your pretty panties. “The way you were grinding up on me that night? I won’t lie, I definitely thought you knew what you were doing. But it doesn’t really matter if you do or don’t.” Hyunjin presses a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, making you hum from the warmth. “I can do it all for you.”

Heat bubbles in your stomach at those words. You mindlessly nod, although you’re not sure if you were supposed to respond anyway. Hyunjin’s nose brushes against your clothed cunt, his lips puckering so he can gently press kisses to your core. 

You mewl at the sensation, widening your legs so he has more room. Hyunjin shows his appreciation by opening his mouth. Even through your underwear, you can feel the heat of his mouth. Your legs eagerly quiver when he finally plants his mouth on your pussy. His tongue makes work to your clit, rubbing the sensitive flesh until your panties grow wetter. 

The sounds make up for the lack of noise in the room, but you can’t find yourself to be embarrassed. Not when he finally pushes the underwear to the side with the tip of his nose and presses another gentle kiss on your bare cunt. His tongue is just as gentle as his lips. He smoothes over your flesh with consideration, sucking the bud of your clit. You jolt, one hand shooting to his hair to grip.

“Fuck!” You use your free hand to grasp onto your breast with your elbow keeping you half-sitting. “It’s so sensitive there.”

Hyunjin giggles with your clit in his mouth, giving a harsh suck just to pop off a second later. “I know. Ever had your pussy eaten at least?”

You have to blink in concentration. It’s hard to think of the small, pathetic sexual encounters you’ve had when Hyunjin goes back to eating you out. The only response you give him is moaning, your hand pressing him deeper into your cunt until his nose shines with arousal. 

A whine leaves you when he pulls away, replacing his skilled mouth with equally skilled fingers. They’re long, and warm, but not as soft as this tongue. You open your mouth to complain, but a long-winded sigh leaves instead when they brush against your fattening clit. Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you look at his digits flicking your pussy. “Shit.” 

“Anyone ever told you how cute your little pussy is?” He locks eyes with your core. “I can’t believe no one’s tasted it. It’s fucking good.” Hyunjin’s eyes glaze over with something you haven’t seen before. A desire so deep you think he could drink you up with just his look. His tongue pokes out of his mouth unconsciously as he slides his fingers lower, just until the tip of his digit finds your entrance.

He dips it in, groaning at how easily you open up for him. It’s warm inside, so soft that he can’t help the way his fingers keep digging deeper until his knuckles touch your skin. You can feel your walls pulsing around him as you throw your head back. “Not- mmm- not like this. No one’s eaten me like this.” 

Hyunjin lets out what you think is closer to a growl than a moan at your words. He pumps his fingers fast and hard, making a repetitive slapping sound echo throughout his living room. You squeal, snapping your head down to look at him. You clench harder seeing him; his open mouth, the intense gaze, the heavy breathing. 

Unable to keep eye contact, you peer down at your cunt. His fingers have a sheer coat of white from his efforts, so much so that it begins to slide down his wrist. You whimper at the sight. Hyunjin follows your line of sight, moaning at the mess you’ve made on him.

“God, fuck!” He leans his back down, tongue already blindlessly looking for your cunt. “Please, please, please.” You’re not sure what he’s begging for, but something in you bubbles with the first signs of your orgasm at the thought of him so needy to taste you. The combination of his fingers and mouth makes you gasp. The very few people you’ve been with only cared if you were wet enough to take them. They didn’t care if you came. If you felt so good that you wanted to crawl out of your skin like how you feel now.

It’s so hot being trapped between your thighs. Hyunjin has sweat dripping down his forehead, but he hardly slows down. Not when he can see you panting, legs restlessly scrambling before you wrap them around his neck to keep him there. Being pressed against your cunt makes it harder for him to finger you, but you don’t seem to mind. You seem content with having something to clench down on while he sucks on your clit, and he’s more than happy to oblige. 

“Hyunjin!” You cry out his name. You repeat it over and over when his mouth envelopes your entire pussy. He sucks, he licks, and he grunts when you yank on his hair a little too hard. Your hips begin to rock against his face, trying to both escape and increase the intense pleasure you’re feeling. His mouth follows you easily, uncaring of how much you pull and tug on his hair. 

“Don’t stop. Shit, please don’t stop.” You build and build, nearly forgetting to breathe before finally crashing down. Hyunjin tipped you over by ever so slightly biting on your clit. The hardness of his teeth provides the perfect amount of pressure for you to cum on his face. Hyunjin stills his fingers, letting you rhythmically pulse around his digits while his tongue laps continuously over your flesh.

You must sound like you’re crying, screaming, or something in between. You can’t help the shuddering breaths, the loud mewls, or the moans that leave you when Hyunjin helps you come down from your high. 

Finally, you release his hair. You loosen the grip you've trapped him with between your legs so he can let up, but Hyunjin stays satisfied by licking you clean. It would be overstimulating if it weren’t for his kitten licks. His tongue swipes a fat strip up your pussy before pulling his fingers from your entrance to suck there instead. 

“Damn,” you say breathlessly. “You stuck there or something?”

Hyunjin makes you yelp when he roughly drags his tongue back to your nub. You shoot him a warning look that only makes him laugh. “Weren’t you telling me not to stop?” You huff, rolling your eyes and looking away dramatically. 

Hyunjin doesn’t let you bicker before he sits up away from your cunt. Although your cunt is swollen and sensitive, you can’t help but chase the heat of his mouth when he lets go.

You whine and collapse on the couch, arm and back slightly aching from keeping you upright. You can’t imagine how tired his jaw must be from making you finish, but he wears your cum like a trophy on his face. Hyunjin keeps a dazed smile on, leaning back until his back perches on the arm-rest of the couch

“Ugh,” You groan from his shit-eating grin, closing your legs and sitting upright. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Hyunjin throws his head back and laughs, picking it back to give you a false frown. “I made you cum, and that’s how you repay me?” He pouts, “Don’t try and run away from me again.” Your breath gets caught at his words. He most likely meant it as a joke, but you can’t help feeling almost guilty about leaving him high and dry that night. Maybe you should finally make it up to him. 

“Do you want me to…return the favor?”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen for a moment, seemingly surprised that you even offered. You’re waiting for him to shift in his seat and begin to unbuckle his belt, but he stays on his ass comfortably. “Nah, that’s okay.” He smiles charmingly. “You can kiss me instead.”

You groan, pretending that the butterflies erupting in your stomach are just the aftershocks from your orgasm. Hyunjin laughs again, harder this time. He’s too busy closing his eyes and giggling at your reactions to see you crawl forward. Too busy wiping the hilarious tears to notice that you’ve puckered your lips and leaned in.

This time, you’re the one smiling when he squeaks in your mouth.

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 12/13﹕✦﹕┈・୧

keigo takami x f!reader -> nipple play, thigh riding

-> art credit goes to the wonderful @/kadeart

-> event masterlist

being the number two hero’s assistant at work had it’s own perks. you had a lavish salary, you had a lot of work so you were busy in the best of ways, you had hawks — the bestest perk ever. you got to be near him, near enough so you could smell his wonderful cologne whenever he talked to you, near enough to see his beautiful crimson wings and how they had a life of their own. expressing hawks’ moods whenever. sometimes they’d be extra perky, sometimes faltered up when he’s bored/annoyed. sometimes flared up when he’s a little moody.

you also know what he likes/dislikes by your heart. his favorite coffee, his favorite restaurant place he likes to takeout from. and his antics and his charm whenever he wants something.

it started a few months ago with a drunken one night stand which has now made you hawks’ most favorite toy and loved toy ever. you don’t want to label it as a relationship, part of you dreads he would run away if you got a little too clingy. part of you could almost see hawks wanting you to be his baby-mama with the way sometimes his pupils slit and his gaze darkens in the most carnal, predatory & animalistic of ways.

whether he would just shamelessly look down your ass when you wear a pencil skirt, bend you over his table and tease you with his semi protuding between your ass cheeks and call you cute for whimpering for him. or whether it’s one of his sick games. oh yeah— hawks loves to play with his prey, you.

today’s game was boredom. keigo was bored and sick of the paperwork he had, being the fastest hero sure had some disadvantages too. slumping dramatically over his desk, his brain smirked at what was next. he called you to his cabin, feathers quickly locking and shutting the roor while he yanked you to straddle his thigh, skirt hiked up and shirt’s buttons loosened. “fuck- hawks- what are you?” you gasped softly while his hands massaged your mounds with a hum.

“ssh~ is it professional to speak to your boss like that?” he smirked, leaning in and biting your sensitive earlobe. your breasts were pulled out of your bra cups, while you could feel your cheeks darken at the embarrassment and flustering situation keigo has put you in. you gasped, your pelvis on fire with the way he knows how to touch your body in the best ways.

“god it’s tiring to read so much.” keigo sighs, pinching and squeezing your nipples while you feel the pressure on your clit when he hikes his knee up. you gasped out, whimpering & mewling at the tug on your hardened nipples. “please- shit oh my god.”

hawks smirked, and you could feel his cockiness when he whispered. “it’s so lewd how you’re not listening—“ he mumbled, “don’t make me punish you now.” he warned once, pinching your nipple harshly so the pain makes you comply.

“hmm, so, where was i? yeah.” he grinned, still toying with your nipple and “grind on my thigh.” he commanded, and it was as if you had no choice but to comply. cheeks flushed as you moved your pelvis against him while he didn’t leave your nipples alone. “you will read these paperwork reports, all the ones which are left, and until we’re done… you don’t cum.”

a rebellious whine escaped from your parted lips, brows furrowed as you continued, and even though hawks had been relentless in toying with your pebbled nub, he means it. “come on; it should be rewarding in some ways.. shouldn’t it babybird?”

“go on… read.” hawks’ voice was a threatening order. while you whimpered, trying so hard to focus on the piece of paper in front of you.

“the- the smuggling gan- gang res- responsible for the smuggling of antiques was, hnng- recently caught by the wing hero.” you pathetically finished the sentence, while hawks could feel himself losing his mind over the way his cock threatened to come out from the tent in his pants.

“aw good girl.” hawks smirked, “continue… go on.” he continued, kissing the sweet spot in your neck & suckling onto your skin, breaking it into a hickey.

eventually, after long, cumbersome 44 minutes of you sniffling, whimpering, and begging hawks to let you cum, hawks melted. “awh, she’s crying now?” he cooed, kissing your cheek.

“go on babybird, cum for me.” he smiled, and you tipped off the edge, staining your pants and also his thigh while your nipples were sore from the continuous playing hawks never got tired of.

your mouth parted in a silent scream when you whimpered and tipped off the edge, nerve wracking orgasm tearing through you. “that’s it, sweet girl.” hawks cooed, kissing your cheek and eventually eating your sniffles in a silent, passionate kiss.

he did the courtsey of dressing you up, primming you up & kissing your chin. “that’s it girl, that’s it. you did so well for me. you know that? hmm?” his behavior had changed completely, peppering your face with soft and tender kisses all over. “gonna need you to go to dinner with me, love bird.” he cooed, while you hummed in a nod.

“sure, hawks.” you spoke out, wiping your tears and reduced to a mess in subspace.

“it’s keigo, sweetness.”

[zombiec]

Cream Puff!! | Getou Suguru

(Readers gender isn’t specified but reader has a dick)

(Getou has a dick it’s just ignored)(I need him doing the splits on my shit idk)

Synopsis ☆: Your favorite police officer comes to your bakery before closing

Warnings: dirty talk, feminization, biting, little bit of a gun kink, marking, begging

It was mid day and you were so so busy. You had a birthday party that you had to make 100 cupcakes for. The color theme was green and purple. You had all 100 made already but you hadn’t put the frosting on any. So you were currently in the kitchen frosting cupcakes, while also trying to keep up with people who come in. You work at your bakery alone, it was kind of small in the first place, so you didn’t see a need in hiring anybody.

You were almost done with the cupcakes you just needed to frost the other 20. You heard the bell at the front,dusting off your hands and trying to look presentable you walk up to the front. You see nanami a customer you usually see. “Hi what can I get for you today” he smiles a little “can I get 2 cream puffs” you smirk a bit “stop being so dirty minded” he said you grabbed the tongs and went to get his cream puffs “who said I was thinking dirty” you looked at him while putting his treats in a paper blue baggie. You grabbed napkins and handed it to him “Thank you for coming sir I hope you come again soon~” you said that last part a little flirty. He flushed a bit, grabbed his cream puffs and left.

The sky was a mixture between orange and yellow indicating the day is almost over. You finished the cupcakes 2 minutes ago, leaving them in the fridge so whoever comes to pick them up tomorrow will have them fresh. You were doing a bit of cleaning because it was almost time for you to close up. Perking up at the sound of the bell ringing at the front of your bakery, You walked up ready to tell them that you just threw out all the sweets you had in the front for the night so that you could make fresh ones in the morning.

You walked up to the front only to be surprised when you see Getou. You and Getou have a bit of history, you two always flirts but it doesn’t go anywhere past that. Getou Is scared because as a police officer a lot of people hate him, and he feels that if you two get together then people will start coming for you. You try to tell him that you can handle yourself, because you can. You’re a little bigger than Getou muscle wise, but height wise you’re basically towering over him. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out though, he wants to get fucked by you so bad. You are just so tempting.

You walked up to the counter smirking “well hello officer” Getou smiled and leaned against the counter “hi my favorite baker~” he flirted back. “What do you need” you asked looking him up and down. He looked good. His long hair that you just wanted to pull on flowing down his back. Hes in his police uniform that accentuated his hips and his ass you just wanna tear that uniform off him and have him bouncing on your- “ummm” the sound of getous voice made you look up. He was looking at the menu trying to figure out what he wants.

“Can I get some brownies” you nodded and Told him “it might be a while because I have to make a fresh batch.” “Awe a new batch just for me” you rolled your eyes “no I just threw out the ones that’ve been out all day” you were about to walk to the back to begin until you heard Getou say something “what was that?”you asked “can I come back there and help you?” The way he looked at you was kind of Mischevious, like he was planning on doing something sneaky. “Okay come on” he walked through the little door to the kitchen and you both started to prepare for the brownies.

All of the ingredients were in the bowl now it was time to stir. “Can I do it” Getou said. All he’s been doing is talking your ear off so it’s best if you put him to work. You handed him the bowl and he stepped right infront of you. He started mixing but he did it too gently. “Like this?” He asked questioningly. You went up close behind him and grabbed his hand that was holding the whisk, guiding his hand to whisk the brownie batter harder. “Yea just like that” ‘oh my godd’ Getou couldn’t even focus on mixing the batter anymore. The way you huskily spoke so close to his ear he just wanted to get fucked now.

You let go of Getou going to get the pan for the brownies. “Oh my goodness I almost forgot” you said “what?” He replied. You grabbed chocolate chips from the drawer and dropped some into the bowl. “To make it more chocolately” looking at Getou not realizing how close you two were. You looked at his lips, pink, fat lips that were just waiting to be sucked on. Wanting to calm some of the rising tension in the kitchen, You cleared your throat taking the bowl from Getou. You poured the brownie mixture onto the pan and put it in the already preheated oven. Getou sighed and sat down on the counter. You raised your eyebrow at him “Get your ass off my counter” and slapped his thigh. He jumped a bit enjoying the slap a bit too much.

He bit his lip and ignored what you said. It was silent for a few until he spoke up. “Do you sell cream pies?” You blinked and looked at him. “No” “well you should” he responded. You went over to him and placed your arms on each side of him. “Why should I?” You said leaning closer to him. Getou couldn’t take the tension anymore, he brought his hands to the back of your neck bringing you even closer to him. He wrapped his legs around your waist bringing your front closer to his ass. He felt you. It was through your pants but he could tell you were big. “Because I really really want one”

You smashed your lips onto getous, making him arch his back into the kiss. He fully wrapped his arms around your neck and you bit onto his lip making him moan. You kissed down to his neck and started leaving marks. “Sto~ don’t leave any marks~” “no those bitches in your office are gonna know how much of a slut you are” Getou tightened his legs around your waist.

“Please~ I want it so bad” ‘godddd’ his desperateness was turning you on so much you just wanted to be buried deep inside him already. “What do you want Getou” you whispered in his ear. “I want you, I want you in me. I want you to fuck me so hard. Own me” you immediately went to pull his pants off he assisted you in doing so. When he got his pants off you saw what he had on and your eyes widened. He had on dark purple lace panties. You pulled on the hem and it snapped against his hip. “Mmm~” you look up at him and he’s blushing so hard and trying to cover himself.

You move his hands away and speak up. “ you planned this out didn’t you? You came in here wanting to get fucked like a whore? You want to be my personal glory hole?” Getou almost came at your words. Being your personal glory hole sounds amazing. Just being used like nothing but a hole. He was drooling at the thought. You slapped his thigh “Answer me” he looked at you with hazed eyes with a little drool coming out his mouth. “Yes..just wanna be your glory hole”

You ripped off getous panties and he gasped. “Those were my favorite pair” your eyes widened. “Pair? You have more?” Getou rolled his eyes and nodded. “You gotta show me later” and before he could respond you pushed yourself into him. “FUCKKKK” Getou yelled out arching his back. He couldn’t believe how much you were already stretching him out and you only had the tip in. You kissed up his neck and wrapped your arms around his waist.

You pushed further into him and Getou kept moaning and leaning his head back. “Fuck you’re so fucking tight baby~ you ready for me to fuck this boy pussy of yours.” “Yes hurry up” you looked at him with your eyebrow raised. “Please sir” your dick twitched. You did a test thrust up into him making him let out a small whimper. You started moving a bit faster causing Getou to let out small breathy moans.

You grabbed his thighs and started fucking into him harder. “SHITTT FASTER FASTER PLEASE” you obided by his request and fucked him at a rapid pace. You leaned down to his neck and bit directly into his sweet spot. “ah~ I can’t I-I can’t hold it in.” “You better fucking hold it in” you whispered harshly in his ear. Getou whined and you spread his legs wide open, putting his leg up on your shoulder making him lean halfway off the counter. You fucked into him watching as his head dangled off the counter hearing him cover his mouth trying to silent his moans. You weren’t about to have that. You slapped his hands away from his mouth “I wanna hear your whorish moans don’t try to hide them from me.”

Getou wanted you to cum in him so bad. He just wanted to make you cum with just his hole. He clenched down onto your dick which was exactly what you needed as you filled him with your seed. “Fuck you” you didn’t want to cum first. Getou chuckled and you groaned and rolled your eyes. You look to the left of Getou and realize his belt was there that had his accessories, including his gun. With Getou not paying attention you thrust into him hard to catch him off guard. He yelped and held onto your shoulders, when all of a sudden he felt the tip of something touch the side of his temple. He looked a bit and saw it was his gun. In your hand.

“What if I just blew your fucking brains out right now” Getou didn’t know if he could hold it in anymore. He knew you’d never shoot him..but did he really? You could shoot him at any time and he’d die with your dick inside of him. “You ready baby? You wanna cream on my cock?” “FUCK YESSS” he said and leaned up dripping onto your shirt. “Go ahead baby” he came so fucking hard. ‘Can’t believe he came with a gun held up to his head.’ You put the gun back next to his belt. Getou was hugging you and you gently caressed his hair. “You did a good job baby are you okay?” Getou smiled and chuckled. “I’m amazing” but then he pouted. “Can I get a kiss?” You kissed his lips and he moaned a bit.

Just as you guys were going to get into it the oven rang with the brownies inside. “Perfect timing”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Ts kinda ass tbh

But anywayyyy this is for the person who requested sub Getou >.<!!

Thank you guys for supporting btw it’s so sweet

[lila-lou]

✨Presents&Gingerbread✨

Summary: Ben has little interest in the season’s traditions but keeps up with the wrapping and decorations just to see you happy. Still, it didn’t take long for him to draw your attention away from the preparations, making it clear that you’re the only thing he cares about.

-Christmas Special-

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Fluff

Word Count: 5893

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. ❤️

You could hear Ben’s frustrated grumbling from the bedroom, but you chose to ignore it for the time being, focusing on the dough in front of you. Baking wasn’t exactly your strong suit, but you figured gingerbread couldn’t be that hard. The dough stuck to your hands in a stubborn mess, and you sighed, wiping your forehead with the back of your wrist.

The smell of sugar and cinnamon wafted through the kitchen as the oven preheated, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of surprising Ben with the cookies, even if they turned out a bit misshapen.

From the bedroom, another curse echoed down the hall, followed by a loud thud. You stifled a laugh. "Everything okay in there?", you called, your voice teasing.

"Yeah, yeah, I got this", Ben replied, his tone sharp but with that underlying hint of amusement you had grown used to. He was stubborn, always determined to do things himself, even if it was something as simple as wrapping a present. But it was moments like this—him grumbling over a bit of tape and wrapping paper—that reminded you there was more to the Soldier Boy façade than he let on.

You brushed some flour off your hands, glancing toward the doorway. You could almost picture him in there, brow furrowed, jaw clenched, struggling with the wrapping paper as if it were some kind of enemy.

"You sure?", you teased again, pulling open the oven and sliding in the tray of misshapen gingerbread men.

A pause. Then, "I swear, if this doesn’t stay… You’ll get a box and nothing else. Hope you like fucking cardboard".

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I’ll take what I can get".

Seconds later, you heard another rip of wrapping paper, followed by a string of curses so creative you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. It was clear things weren’t going any better for him. You wiped your hands on a dish towel, half tempted to go in and offer help, but you knew Ben well enough to know he’d refuse. He wasn’t the type to let anyone see him struggle—even with something as trivial as wrapping a present.

Instead, you leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting for the cookies to bake, and called out, "You know, it’s the thought that counts, not the presentation, right?".

"Presentation matters, dammit", Ben shot back, his voice slightly muffled but dripping with frustration. "What kind of guy gives his girl a mangled present? I can blow up tanks, but this… this paper is kicking my ass".

You bit your lip to keep from laughing out loud. The image of Soldier Boy—America's perfect warrior, fighting to the death with a roll of wrapping paper—was too much. "Pretty sure I’ll still love it", you replied, trying to sound reassuring.

"Yeah, well, I’m not pretty sure of anything right now", Ben muttered. You heard another tear, then the sound of tape being yanked furiously from the dispenser. "This shit's defective".

You finally gave in to curiosity, walking to the doorway of the bedroom and leaning against the frame. There he was, hunched over the bed, a mess of torn wrapping paper scattered around him, the box he was trying to wrap looking more like a battle casualty than a gift. His face was a picture of sheer frustration, a rare sight considering how confident and in control he always seemed.

"You good?", you asked, grinning.

He snapped his head up, narrowing his eyes at you. "Don’t say a fucking word".

You held up your hands in surrender, though your grin only widened. "Wouldn't dream of it".

Ben huffed, turning his attention back to the mangled mess of paper. "This is stupid. I don’t know why people bother with this shit".

Stepping into the room, you sat on the edge of the bed, watching him for a moment before saying softly, "You don’t have to do this, you know. I already know how much you care".

Ben paused, his fingers gripping the paper as he looked over at you. His expression softened just a fraction, the frustration easing from his shoulders. "Yeah, well, you deserve something nice", he muttered, glancing away as if embarrassed.

Your heart warmed at the sentiment. Without a word, you reached out, gently touching his arm. "This is nice, Ben", you said quietly. "All of it. You trying… It means a lot".

He sighed, dropping the tape. "I’m not good at this stupid shit".

"I think you’re doing just fine", you reassured him, leaning in and pressing a light kiss to his cheek.

Ben turned to face you fully, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You’re just saying that because you like me".

You laughed softly. "Yeah, maybe I do".

You looked down at the “present”, if you could even call it that. It looked more like a ball of crumpled wrapping paper than anything resembling a gift, with tape sticking out at odd angles and creases everywhere. Yet, Ben placed a small red bow on top with an exaggerated flourish, looking—despite everything—a little bit proud. The fact that the paper had actually stuck this time and didn’t peel off again seemed like a victory in his book.

“There”, he said, handing you the half-ball of paper, “for the tree”.

You took it from him gently, doing your best to suppress a laugh. You gave him a soft smile, admiring the effort more than the execution. “It’s… definitely unique”.

Ben grinned, catching onto your amusement but not minding it. “It’s gonna stand out from all the other perfect presents you wrapped”, he said, motioning to the stack of neatly wrapped gifts under the tree, each one with straight corners and perfectly tied ribbons.

“I think it’ll fit right in”, you said.

Ben stood up, stretching his arms above his head and surveying the room. He glanced down at the floor, where scraps of shredded wrapping paper littered the carpet. With a sigh, he began gathering the mess into his hands. “I swear, next time, I’m just getting a bag”.

You chuckled, getting up to help him. “Next time, you could just ask for my help, you know”.

He gave you a sideways look. “Yeah, like that’s fucking happening”.

“You act like wrapping presents is some top-secret operation”.

Ben snorted, crumpling another piece of paper. “For me, it might as well be. Fighting’s easier”.

You smiled, watching him as he cleared the floor. For someone so used to being seen as a powerhouse—a legend even—these small moments of vulnerability were rare. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by torn wrapping paper and Christmas lights, doing something as simple and human as trying to wrap a present for you.

Once the mess was cleaned up, he straightened, looking over at you. “You still baking those cookies?”.

“I’m trying”, you said with a laugh. “But they’re probably not turning out much better than your wrapping job”.

Ben shrugged, tossing the last ball of paper into the trash. “We’ll call it even, then. Cookies for my screwed-up present”.

You grinned. “Deal”.

The two of you walked out of the bedroom. Ben had a few crumpled bits of wrapping paper still in his hands as he made his way toward the trash can in the kitchen. You followed him with his “present” carefully balanced in your arms, the lumpy shape almost endearing in its awkwardness.

As you knelt down to place the gift under the Christmas tree, you took a step back to admire how it sat among the others, its irregular shape standing out, but in a way that made you smile even more. There was something perfect in its imperfection—like it held a little more heart than the perfectly wrapped boxes surrounding it.

Ben, meanwhile, was peering into the oven, his hands resting on his hips, inspecting the cookies with a critical gaze. “How long do these things usually take?”, he asked, squinting at the misshapen gingerbread men that were slowly starting to brown around the edges.

“Shouldn’t be much longer”, you said as you joined him by the stove, leaning slightly against the counter. The two of you stared through the glass window in silence for a moment, watching the cookies bake as the scent of cinnamon and ginger filled the kitchen.

Ben glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “They look a little… rough, don’t they?”.

You chuckled softly. “Well, I wasn’t exactly going for ‘perfect’, just edible”.

“Edible’s good enough”, Ben agreed, nodding like it was some grand compromise. He opened the oven just a crack, feeling the wave of warm air hit his face. “I’ve had worse, believe me”.

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a teasing grin. “Is that your way of saying you’ll actually eat one?”.

He shrugged, stepping back and letting the oven door click shut. “Hey, I’ve survived worse. They smell alright, so… why not?”.

You laughed softly, bumping your shoulder against his arm. “I’ll take that as a win”.

Ben leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms, watching you as you moved around the kitchen. The glow of the Christmas lights from the tree in the other room flickered softly, casting a warm hue over the space. You could feel his eyes on you, and when you looked up, he gave a small, almost shy smile.

“This whole Christmas thing”, he muttered, glancing away for a second before meeting your gaze again. “Why do you love it so much?”.

His question hung in the air for a moment, catching you off guard. You’d never really thought about why Christmas meant so much to you—it was just something you always enjoyed. The lights, the warmth, the smell of baked goods filling the house—it was a feeling, more than anything. But for Ben, who’d never really had a reason to celebrate it, you realized it probably didn’t make much sense.

You set the oven mitt down, leaning against the counter beside him. “I guess it’s not just one thing”, you said thoughtfully, your voice soft. “It’s about the little things—the warmth, the coziness, the way everything feels kind of… special, you know? It’s like the whole world slows down for a bit, and you can just focus on the people you care about”.

Ben raised an eyebrow, looking at you like he was trying to understand. “So, it’s not just about all the eating?”.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Well, that’s a part of it. I’ve seen how much you enjoy that part”.

He smirked, his gaze softening as he leaned a little closer. “You’ve been cooking up a storm these past few weeks. I’m not complaining or anything—it’s been pretty great”.

You smiled, remembering the countless batches of cookies, pies, and everything in between you’d made over the last few weeks. You’d thrown yourself into it, trying different recipes to make sure Christmas Eve dinner would be perfect. You wanted the apartment to feel like home, especially for Ben, who wasn’t used to this kind of thing.

“But it’s more than just the food”, you continued, your voice softening. “It’s about making the place feel like… like somewhere we can be ourselves, away from everything else. Somewhere safe”. You glanced at him, your gaze gentle. “I know it’s probably cheesy to you. But Christmas has always been about family, about togetherness, and even though things aren’t perfect, it’s a time to just appreciate what you’ve got”.

Ben’s expression shifted, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. He wasn’t used to that kind of sentiment. You knew that much about him. Christmas was just another day for most of his life—another day he didn’t have to care about. And yet here he was, going through all this “crap”, as he called it, for you.

“I guess I just never had that”, he admitted quietly, his voice almost a murmur. “Never really celebrated it. My father didn’t think much of it, and after that… well, it was just another day”.

You nodded, understanding what he wasn’t saying. His life had been far from ordinary, far from the kind of life where holidays held meaning. But the fact that he was doing this, trying to wrap presents, watching cookies bake, and standing in a cozy apartment surrounded by Christmas lights—for you—that meant more than he could ever know.

“Maybe that’s why it’s important to me”, you said, your voice gentle. “Because we get to create our own version of it. You and me. We get to decide what Christmas means, and it doesn’t have to be perfect”.

Ben glanced down at the floor, then back at you, his eyes searching yours. “Yeah, well, I’m doing all this crap for you, you know. The wrapping, the tree, the whole deal”. He scratched the back of his head, looking almost sheepish. “I still don’t get it, but if it makes you happy…”.

You smiled, your heart swelling at his words. “It does. But you being here with me, doing all of this… that’s what makes it special”.

For a moment, Ben didn’t say anything. He just stood there, looking at you, and you could see something shift in him—a softening, maybe even a realization. He stepped closer, pulling you into his arms again, his embrace warm and steady.

“Well, I guess I can live with that”, he muttered, his voice low but full of something unspoken, something that said more than the words ever could.

You wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his chest. “Thank you, Ben. For trying. It means a lot”.

He huffed a small laugh, his chin resting on your head. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to sing any carols or whatever”.

You grinned up at him, still nestled comfortably in his arms. “No carols, huh?” you teased, playfully. “Not even Jingle Bells?”.

Ben rolled his eyes, his grip on you tightening just a little before he pulled back to look at you. “Don’t fucking push it. I’m doing enough with the whole ‘festive spirit’ thing”.

You opened your mouth to respond, but just then, the timer on your phone went off, the cheerful chime cutting through the cozy silence. The cookies.

You sighed, reluctantly stepping out of his embrace. “Hold that thought”, you said, giving him a wink as you grabbed the oven mitts and hurried to pull the tray of gingerbread cookies out of the oven. The warm, spiced aroma filled the room, and despite how unsure you were about how they’d turn out, you felt a little wave of excitement.

Ben leaned against the counter again, watching you with a mix of amusement and curiosity. “Let’s see these masterpieces”, he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You pulled the tray out, setting it down on the stove and looking over the cookies. They weren’t exactly bakery-level quality—some were a little darker around the edges, a few misshapen—but all in all, they weren’t half bad.

“Well”, you said, eyeing them critically, “they’re edible”.

Ben snorted, stepping closer to inspect them. “Not bad, actually”, he said, grabbing one without hesitation. He blew on it briefly before taking a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Crunchy, but I’ve eaten worse”.

You laughed, grabbing a cookie yourself. “I’ll take that as a glowing review”.

Ben leaned back against the counter, finishing the cookie in a couple more bites. “You should”, he said with a grin, wiping his hand on his jeans. “I don’t hand out compliments for free”.

“Of course not”, you replied, your voice teasing as you took a bite of your own cookie. You couldn’t help but feel a little proud of how they turned out, considering all the experimenting you’d done over the last few weeks.

“Alright”, Ben mumbled under his breath, his voice low and filled with something mischievous. Before you could even react, his strong hands found their way to your hips, gripping you firmly and pulling you against him in one swift, fluid motion. The sudden movement caught you completely off guard, and your half-eaten cookie slipped from your fingers, falling to the floor with a soft thud.

“Ben!”, you squeaked in surprise, but he was already moving, effortlessly lifting you onto his hips as if you weighed nothing. His grip was strong and sure, and his eyes glinted with a mix of playful intent as he began walking toward the bedroom.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your laughter bubbling up despite the suddenness of it all. “What are you doing?”, you asked, though you already had an idea. Your heart raced as he carried you with ease, each step confident and determined.

Ben didn’t answer right away, just gave you a smirk. “No more baking for tonight”, he said, his voice low and teasing as he made his way toward the bedroom door. “You’ve been fussing over cookies and Christmas stuff for weeks. Time for a different kind of fun”.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your earlier thoughts of the cookies and Christmas decorations fading quickly. The warmth of the room, the soft glow of the lights filtering through the hall, and the way Ben held you with such ease—it was all enough to make your pulse quicken.

As he pushed open the door to your bedroom with his shoulder, you felt a shiver of excitement run down your spine. He stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

Ben kicked the door shut behind him with a controlled force, and the soft click echoed through the room. You could feel the tension in the air shift as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your neck. His hands, still firmly gripping your hips, slid up your waist with deliberate slowness, teasing but firm, the touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’ve been working so hard on that stupid Christmas cheer”, he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl, as he leaned in close to your ear. “But I think it’s time you relaxed a little”.

His lips brushed against your skin, so close yet barely making contact, and you couldn’t help the soft, involuntary gasp that escaped your lips. His smirk deepened, clearly pleased with your reaction. He always knew exactly how to get under your skin, how to tease you in just the right way, making your heart race and your thoughts scatter.

“You’re always fussing about something”, he teased, his voice a husky whisper as he hovered over you, “whether it’s wrapping presents or baking cookies. I think it’s my turn to get a little of your attention”.

You tried to play it cool, even though your pulse was quickening. “Oh? And what makes you think you deserve my attention?”.

Ben let out a low chuckle, his fingers trailing up your side, sending a rush of heat through you. “Because”, he murmured, his lips ghosting over the curve of your neck, “I’m not the kind of guy who fucking waits around for permission”.

His words were playful, but there was an edge of truth behind them—Ben never did things halfway, and he never shied away from taking what he wanted. And right now, he wanted you.

You felt his grip tighten ever so slightly as he shifted, pressing you back against the bed with a fluid motion. His eyes met yours, full of heat and mischief.

In one swift motion, he pushed you down gently but assertively, his weight following as he climbed on top of you. The heat between you was palpable, and the teasing smirk on his lips never wavered as he leaned down, his mouth tracing a slow, tantalizing line from the base of your neck down toward your collarbone.

His lips pressed soft, lingering kisses against your skin, each touch sending jolts of warmth coursing through you. You could feel the faint scrape of his stubble as his kisses became more deliberate, more hungry. Ben's hands moved with practiced ease, already starting to undo the buttons of your shirt, each one coming undone with a deliberate flick of his fingers.

"You’re not getting away that easy", he murmured against your skin, his breath hot against your collarbone as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with intent.

Before you could respond, his mouth returned to your skin, this time pressing more insistently, his lips and tongue tracing slow patterns over the exposed part of your chest. He was already halfway down the buttons of your shirt, exposing more of your skin with each passing second. You felt your pulse quicken, your breath catching in your throat as his kisses moved lower.

Ben’s hands slid beneath the fabric of your shirt, rough and warm as they caressed your sides, his touch firm and possessive. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to take his time unraveling you. He lifted his head for a moment, meeting your eyes with that same mischievous smirk, his voice a husky murmur as he whispered, "See? Told you I don’t need permission".

His confidence, his dominance—it was magnetic. You could feel your body responding to him, arching toward his touch as he lowered his mouth again, trailing hot kisses down your chest, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Every touch, every kiss, felt like it was claiming you, making you his, just as he had promised.

His lips ghosted over the skin of your stomach, soft and teasing, the warmth of his breath heightening the sensation. His hands moved in sync with his mouth, sliding down your sides until they found the waistband of your jeans.

With a deft motion, he hooked his fingers around both your jeans and panties, pausing only for a moment to glance up at you, his smirk widening as he saw the look on your face. Without breaking eye contact, he began to pull them down, the fabric sliding against your skin in one smooth motion. The cool air met your heated skin as he peeled them away, tossing them aside with a casual flick of his wrist, as if discarding anything that stood between him and what he wanted.

For a moment, Ben lingered, his eyes roaming over your body with an intensity that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. His hands moved to your thighs, gripping them firmly, his thumbs brushing over the soft skin as he spread you slightly beneath him, positioning himself closer. His gaze was dark, filled with hunger and something primal, and it made your pulse race.

He lowered his head again, this time pressing a kiss just above your hip, then moving lower, his breath hot against your skin.

"You taste even better than I remember", he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and laced with desire, his lips hovering dangerously close to where you wanted him most.

Ben’s mouth finally met you where you ached for him most, his lips brushing lightly against your skin. His kisses were tender at first, exploratory, as if he was savoring each reaction he drew from you. But it was when his tongue made contact that the sensation became more intense.

His tongue traced a slow, deliberate path along the sensitive folds of your body, moving with a deliberate, teasing rhythm. The tip of his tongue explored gently, pausing at the most sensitive spots, before moving in soft, circular motions. His touch was warm and wet, the sensation both electrifying and soothing as he took his time to learn your body’s reactions.

Ben’s movements were calculated, his tongue pressing against you with a gentle but insistent pressure. He alternated between slow, languid strokes and slightly quicker, more focused flicks, each movement aimed at heightening your pleasure.

As you were lost in the rhythmic play of Ben’s tongue, his technique shifted suddenly without warning. He enveloped your clit with a firm suction, his lips tightly sealed around it as he applied a concentrated pressure that made your back arch and a sharp gasp escape your lips. The sudden intensity of the sensation, combined with a gentle, teasing bite that was just enough to send a shockwave of pleasure through your body, contrasted starkly with the gentle lapping that had preceded it.

This sudden change amplified the sensations flooding through you, drawing a fine line between pleasure and the thrilling edge of too much. Ben seemed to sense this razor-thin boundary and expertly walked you along it. He eased the pressure just slightly when it seemed overwhelming, then built it back up, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

As he continued, his hands found their way to your hips, holding you firmly in place. This firm grip ensured that you felt the full range of his movements—every suck, every bite—while also grounding you, holding you steady.

The intensity of Ben’s actions, combined with the overwhelming sensations coursing through you, made you lose control. As you cried out his name, your hands gripped his hair tightly, pulling him closer as if you were trying to fuse him to you. The force of your tug was unintentional but fervent, driven by the powerful waves of pleasure crashing over you.

Ben’s reaction was immediate—he responded to your urgent touch by increasing the intensity of his efforts. His tongue worked with renewed fervor, the suction on your clit growing more insistent, while his lips and teeth continued.

As the waves of pleasure grew more intense, your cries became more urgent, blending with the sounds of his determined efforts.

As you lay there, your chest rising and falling in the aftermath of the intense release, you slowly began to catch your breath. The room felt warmer, the air thick. Ben pushed himself back up from his position, his movements slow, savoring the moment. He wiped the remnants of your pleasure from his mouth with the back of his wrist, his smirk already in place as he locked eyes with you.

There was a look in his eyes, one of pride and satisfaction, but also that unmistakable mischief you’d come to recognize. He knew exactly what he had just done to you, how completely he had unraveled you, and how only he had the power to make you lose yourself like this.

His smirk deepened as he leaned over you, bracing himself on his forearms, his face hovering inches above yours. "Looks like I’ve still got it", he teased, his voice low and rough, a playful challenge hidden in his words.

You could still feel the aftershocks of your climax humming through your body, your limbs weak and trembling slightly from the intensity. His gaze stayed fixed on yours, that knowing glint never fading as he took in the way you were still recovering, your body warm and flushed under him.

"Only I can make you come like that, huh?", Ben’s voice was a husky murmur, full of that trademark confidence. He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I think I’m gonna enjoy making you lose control again".

You shivered, not from the cold, but from the way his voice seemed to vibrate through you, reigniting a flicker of desire even though you were still coming down from the high he’d just given you.

As he pulled back just enough to look at you again. "Ready for round two?", he asked, his tone equal parts teasing and genuine challenge, knowing full well that you weren’t done yet.

You chuckled softly, still catching your breath, not entirely sure if you were ready for what Ben had in mind. "I don’t know if I—", Before you could even finish your sentence, Ben was already moving, his hands quick and sure as he undid his belt with practiced ease. The clinking sound of metal filled the air as his jeans slipped halfway down his thighs.

He didn’t wait for you to gather your thoughts or prepare yourself. In one swift, commanding motion, he pushed inside you, filling you completely without warning. The sudden stretch was overwhelming, and you gasped, your fingers instinctively gripping the sheets beneath you as your body tried to adjust to the sudden, intense intrusion.

Ben groaned low in his throat, his voice gravelly with satisfaction as he felt how tight you were around him, his hands gripping your hips with a possessive force. "Fuck baby", he muttered, his head falling forward as he closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation of being buried deep inside you. He loved the way your body clenched around him, as if you were made just for him, and the way you reacted—your gasps, your body arching beneath him—only fueled his desire.

The initial shock of his sudden entry faded into a wave of pleasure, and your body responded instinctively, hips lifting to meet his as you adjusted to the fullness. Ben wasted no time, his movements sure as he began to thrust into you. Every stroke was deep, purposeful, each one sending a shock of pleasure through you, the force of his hips driving you into the mattress.

"You feel so good", he growled, his hands tightening their grip on you as he thrust harder, loving the way you trembled beneath him. There was a primal satisfaction in the way your body responded to him, how tight and warm you felt around him, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Each thrust came harder than the last, his pace relentless, as if he was determined to claim you all over again, and you could barely catch your breath. The intensity of it all—his strength, his speed, the sheer power behind every movement—left you teetering on the edge of another climax, the pressure building inside you rapidly.

Ben leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured, "You’re mine". And in that moment, it was clear—he wasn’t going to let you catch your breath, wasn’t going to give you a second to recover. He was going to take you, completely and utterly, until there was nothing left but him.

And the way he moved, the way he knew your body so well—it left you no doubt that you were his.

About an hour later, the two of you sat on the couch, freshly showered and wrapped in the warmth of cozy sweatpants and hoodies. The energy between you had shifted, from the heated intensity of earlier to a comforting calm. The soft glow of the Christmas lights flickered in the corner of the room, casting a warm, peaceful ambiance over everything.

You scrolled through the list of movies, trying to decide which one would set the perfect tone for the evening. Ben, however, seemed completely uninterested in the selection process. He was too busy munching on the gingerbread cookies you had baked, his free hand absently brushing over your arm as he held you close against his side. The light pressure of his fingers against your skin was soothing, his casual affection a stark contrast to the earlier moments of intensity.

“You sure you don’t care what we watch?”, you asked, glancing up at him, though you already knew the answer.

Ben barely looked up from his cookie, grinning around the bite he had just taken. “As long as I have these”, he mumbled, gesturing toward the plate of cookies on the coffee table, “I’m good with whatever”. His words were muffled, but the lazy contentment in his tone was unmistakable.

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you settled more comfortably against him. His arm tightened around you slightly, pulling you closer, and you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. It felt good—safe—to be here like this, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, with no urgency, no rush, just the quiet, cozy moment the two of you were sharing.

“Fine”, you said, picking a random holiday movie and hitting play. You weren’t really focused on the screen either. It wasn’t about the movie; it was about this—being here with Ben, comfortable and relaxed.

Ben’s hand moved to your hair, his fingers lazily combing through the strands, the simple gesture making you melt further into him. He shifted slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. His touch was gentle, almost tender, as if he was savoring the quiet closeness between you.

“This”, he mumbled, his voice low and warm against your skin, “this right here is my favorite part of all this Christmas shit”.

You chuckled quietly, tilting your head slightly to look up at him. “Even more than the cookies?”.

Ben’s lips quirked into a lazy grin as he glanced down at you, his hand still resting on your arm. “Even more than the cookies”, he admitted, his voice softer now. “Though I won’t say no to another batch”.

You laughed, feeling the warmth of his affection settle deeper within you. It was rare for Ben to open up like this, even in small ways, but when he did, it meant everything. His affection was subtle, woven into small gestures like the way he held you close or kissed your temple—never needing grand declarations, because moments like these said it all.

Grinning softly, you leaned up just enough to whisper, "I love you".

The words came out gently, but with all the weight of truth behind them. It wasn’t the first time you’d said it, but somehow, in this quiet moment with the glow of the Christmas lights flickering in the background, it felt different—deeper, more meaningful. You could see the way the words affected him, even if he didn’t say anything right away. His eyes softened even further, the usual cockiness in his expression replaced with something that looked a lot like love.

Ben didn’t reply immediately, but the way his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer into him, said everything you needed to hear. He lowered his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. His breath was steady, and you could feel the slight hitch in it, the way your words had touched him even if he wasn’t going to let it show completely.

"Yeah", he murmured softly, his voice barely a whisper. "Love you too".

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

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[lemonisntreal]

TONE DEAF :: Rosita and Norman <3

The first in a [hopefully] series of redesign + headcanon posts where I give you my take on a character for my AU

I'm grouping the two together because a] a lot of fluff headcanons I have, they share [because they're literally husband and wife]. And b] if I made an individual post for every single character, I... would go insane. So yeah. A bunch of characters are gonna get clumped together.

[FULL MASTERPOST HERE [yet to be made <3]]

HEADCANONS // BACKSTORY ⬇️

Me and the bad bitch I pulled by being autistic [also autistic]

Both of them are the same age, mid to late thirties.

In terms of general intelligence: Rosita has gifted IQ, while Norman is at genius level.

I know. I know Norman seems kinda dim in the movies. But guys [LMAO]. "I know it looks like there's nothing happening behind those eyes, but...... he can make entire computers!"

He's so smart yet so stupid. He's that kind of character. Like he can do all of this super impressive shit, and is super talented and can do math like BOOM done, but he's also kinda a "deer-in-the-headlights" when it comes to life [I LOVE HIM 👹]

Both of them worked hard and have their college degrees almost completely paid off at this point because of the scholarships they earned.

Rosita has a degree in engineering, Norman's a computer scientist.

They're both in STEM, it's just that Rosita likes to handle more of the mechanical aspects of things while Norman's better with the technical stuff, which I think is cute af.

Yin and Yang <3

This dynamic is just how they are too. How they act. Like for example, Rosita can be very to-the-point-

She's very much a problem solver and will get right to it once she understands what she's doing. Like yeah, she often takes a very methodical approach to it [see the scene where she's got all the papers laid out to try and learn to dance- very new territory for her], but once she learns, she gos all in. And EATS.

Norman's gotta have a plan before doing anything, meanwhile. He has a morning routine that can't be interrupted or else his whole day and mood will be thrown off. He reads through a recipe twice before even starting. That kind of stuff.

He's a lot more hesitant to even try.

A lot of people find Norman boring. But Rosita is enraptured by every word he says, she LOVES his long spiels about hyper-specific [and often mundane] things.

AAAA--

Norman is also a closeted DORK. He ran a tabletop games club in highschool with a couple other of his geeky ass friends [he's still into D&D to this day and has introduced Rosita to the game too]

[she's fun to play with, but super competitive. This goes for ANY game, actually, not just D&D. She'll kinda accidentally turn everything into a "contest" due to her inability to not do her very best] [it's mostly inspirational, not annoying, if that makes sense?]

I also wanna say Norman was in a weird amount of drama that he didn't want to be in at this time. Like all of his friends had falling-outs, and he was just always caught in the middle of it.

He's afraid of confrontation [UNLESS IT'S FOR HIS WIFE] [HE STANDS UP FOR HER RAHHHH] [this is gonna happen when I get to rewriting Sing 2, he's NOT just gonna take Crystal calling his WIFE "mommy pig"]

They're sooo "excuse me, he asked for no pickles"

Norman and Rosita technically met in high school, in Junior year when Norman first moved to Calatonia.

WHICH, he and his family did this because this was a point in time where laws having to do with the rights of animals were VERY flimsy, and Calatonia was one of the first and only safe places at the time-- for Pigs especially, actually.

The 3 Little Pigs is deadass CANON TO SING. So Pigs were/are actually a marginalized species in this universe.

[[during the warring period that I have yet to really talk about, they were often victims of the anarchy and poaching, so stigmas and insults around them still exist to this day]]

[[[[see Jimmy Crystal]]]]

So anyway, they "met" in high school- Norman totally crushed on Rosita from afar whenever he'd catch her in volleyball matches-

Rosita had a major tomboy phase throughout high school, slowly falling out of it during college [still only saves dresses and skirts for special occasions really]

[[Fun fact, Rosita is also sapiosexual [attracted to intelligence] [Roxanne Ritchi ahh] ]]

[[Norman is bi]]

They actually got introduced to eachother and had a proper arc when they went to the same college [which might've been a college in Redshore actually? But I'm not 100% sure on that headcanon. It would line up since Rosita's "wanted to perform in Redshore since she was a little kid" and Redshore is obviously a massive city with a lot of notoriety. Idk though- and it's not really that important to the story anyways]

Norman and Rosita had plans together- they were gonna make it big and live freely. Things were looking up with the lawmakers, who were finally repealing a bunch of nasty stuff that was put in place during the war times. And the two had hope that their dreams could actually be accomplished.

Rosita, who was originally gonna play it safe and become an engineer, was now thinking about attempting to become a performer [which Norman has supported since the beginning, he LOVES her singing, and often tells her that she's "better than some of the people I've heard on TV!"]

But. Life got in the way...

Present day, Norman works in Redshore at Crystal Enterprises. He's the head of some sort of organizational team- not really working on what he loves at this point.

And this is because of their children, who were a very sudden appearance in their lives [which is why we see so much struggle in the chaos at the beginning of the movie in this AU]

Rosita stopped everything, and Norman grabbed the first high-ish paying job he could, spending all his spare time on clocking in overtime hours.

The kids are all adopted, and there's only 6 now: Oldest Caspar [13], twin boys Mickey and Moe [11], middle child Kelly [9], little bro Freddy[8], and Zoey the sweet baby sister [6].

They became foster parents after the death of Rosita's sister [this hc is kinda subject to change, but this is the story rn. I'll specify on this later ☝️]

So Rosita's kinda put her life on hold for these babies. She's such a great mom to them, and they love her and Norman so much

But some of the older kids [Caspar specifically] are kinda in a rough phase since they feel like she resents them [which she doesn't], or that she isn't their "real mom" [which she IS]

This is like an E plot in the story, but definitely's gonna get at least a little bit of focus.

Rosita and Norman's marriage is falling apart just a little bit due to burnout, but it'll get better <3 [I can't do anything tragic to these two they're too sweet]

Norman snuggles up to Rosita in his sleep. Rosita starfishes LMAO

They wake up entangled. This is normal.

"Pig piles" are also a thing- there have been several nights where all six children "had nightmares" and so the family of 8 all slept in the same bed.

Norman has the best bond with the two girls out of all the children. They immediately latched onto him to be their level-headed dad.

Rosita can carry two kids at once easily, and often "relocates" them like this :>

She's probably the strongest out of everyone in the troupe if you don't count the potential Meena has. She solos.

She's constantly taking notes on everyone and everything around her. At the theater, you'll catch her tidying stuff up she spots out of the corner of her vision while you're having a conversation with her [she's still listening]. She knows everyones favorite foods, and allergies, and their preferences in things, etc. She's the most attentive and considerate out of all of them [the mom]

She may have a touch of OCD.

She gives the best hugs.

Rosita is also a FANTASTIC cook [not even a headcanon, I'm pretty sure the entire fandom agrees on this one] and often bakes stuff for her sweet-toothed children [and husband]

This is actually how she initially connected with Caspar, who refused to eat or speak at first when they were all placed with Rosita.

Cinnamon rolls.

Kelly will only eat the frosting off the top, and has ruined an entire pan before by doing this.

Rosita actually isn't the biggest fan of chocolate, small detail.

Idk why she just strikes me as not being an enjoyer.

Loves vanilla though. People are furious when she answers "vanilla" with zero hesitation to the chocolate vs vanilla question.

Norman is kinda a hopeless romantic, or at least really enjoys the aesthetic of it [in a sweet and not shallow way ofc], and goes all out every Valentine's Day: balloons, flowers, the works. He's learned that Rosita prefers strawberries over a box of chocolates, however. Has a tradition of getting a fruit basket for her <3

They also have a tradition from all the way back in college, where they go out to eat at specifically the in-universe equivalent of Olive Garden [which was the fanciest thing they could afford at the time] and eat a shared giant plate of spaghetti.

Norman loves coffee. Insists he likes it black but actually prefers a good 50:50 ratio of creamer and coffee.

Norman is also ☝️ lactose intolerant LMAO

[[or would be, if traditional milk was widely accessible/a thing. I say "lactose intolerant" but what I really mean is he's allergic to most milk substitutes- like nuts and soy [gives him tummy ache, not anaphylaxis] ]]

God, parenthesis are carrying me so hard rn.

Stopping here because I'm tired, but I could go ON about these two omg-

Normita forever rahhhh <3

[https-murdock]

waiting game - matt murdock

summary: matt will make you wait as long as he wants to.

warnings: - here we go… 18+ MDNI, mean!matt, cockwarming, insults (whore etc), daddy kink, bondage, spanking, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, rough oral (m receiving), a little pain kink??, slight choking, tiny slapping (one mention of it and it’s not really slapping but thought i should include anyway)

word count: 1.3k

authors note: heyyy this is soo self indulgent lol but i hope u all enjoy x

Matt didn’t like to be interrupted during his work - whether that be in the office or the menial hours he spent going through his braille-full-files at home. Either way, he didn’t like any interruptions, including any from you.

“sweetheart, what have i said about this? i’ve told you many times…” he trails off, sat with his thick thighs spread out on his couch and tossing his papers back to the coffee table with the rest of them. “please, i-“ you begin, and slowly you’re starting to realise the position you’re in.

spread eagle on his rug. face down, ass up, hands tied behind your back and you’ve never been so aware of the placement of your pussy so close to him - he had tied you up around an hour earlier, leaving your dripping folds sat next to him - knowing exactly how desperate you are just for a simple touch.

“no, i’ve already told you, you’ll wait until i’m done.” he’s sterner now, and you can hear the tint of anger decorating his low tone. the tears brim at your eyes, threatening to fall as you wait for so much as a simple touch of calloused fingers to relieve any of the pressure that has built up.

you do the only thing you can - wait.

just as you’re ready to wait all night for a touch from him, he finally slips the rest of his papers back into their file and rests on his knees behind you, rough hands finding the smooth of your ass cheeks - and before you can even think about what may come next, he lands a slap right to the left one, the sting lasting longer than usual as the welcome of his touch settles in.

“that what you wanted?” he’s asking, tone gravelly and stern behind you, slap after slap landing on your skin, and all you can do is moan at the beautiful pain he leaves in his wake.

“f-p- ahh- please, daddy please.” you’re begging now, and even you didn’t realise quite how much you needed him in any form, even if it included being punished for being so desperate. “hmmm, don’t think you’ve been good enough. so desperate, such a slut.” your ears ring from the pain, but still you hear his voice drift through the air, and you know this means you’ll be waiting all night.

gently, almost too gently, two fingers dip into your wet heat and your jaw drops open at the feeling. “so wet and i’ve barely even touched you.” he smirks, and you can tell it’s the smirk he does when he’s about to ruin you.

“da-daddy please, need it so bad.” you beg, and the sliding of his fingers picks up pace.

the way he reaches so deep inside of you always takes you by surprise, his fingers hitting the spot that has been throbbing while you’ve been waiting for him. the slick that drips down the inside of your thighs is telling the story of your desperate need.

“that what you wanted? just wanted my touch like the whore you are?” he’s asking you, shit eating grin on his face when he knows you’re enjoying the touch of him so much you can’t even reply. you can feel that familiar tight, warm feeling in your lower stomach - and what you’ve been so needy for is finally approaching. “wanna interrupt my work? i’ll interrupt you before you come.”

“no no no, please,” you start, when you feel his fingers pull out and your orgasm fade away.

“no begging, you knew what you were doing when you chose to be such a whore.” and as you turn your head to pleadingly look at him, he stands up and starts to strip his clothes off - before finally untying your hands and gripping your hair, pulling your head up until you rest on your knees. “don’t wanna be quiet, i’ll keep you quiet.” he mutters, standing in front of you as his large shadow looms above.

his cock stands up on his abs, and each time the length of him stirs a little anxiety in you, whether it’ll hurt, or just fit full stop. “open up.” he says, trailing his thumb across your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth apart to make room for him. “relax, gotta relax for me huh?”

as he pushes his way into your mouth, you feel the spit drip onto your naked chest, and as soon as matt hears the sound of it hit your skin his grip on your hair tightens. “fuck, so good for me, such a good whore for me.”

you do as your told, letting him use your mouth to his own pleasure - the head on him ramming to the back of your throat, and the pain leading right to your pussy, clenching at the feeling of him bullying his way through. “fuck, y’mouth feels- s’good.” he’s muttering, and his hips are stuttering, and as you begin to get nervous that you won’t get to feel him inside of you tonight like you do desperately need to, he pulls out of your mouth with a pop.

“don’t worry, calm your heart beat down. you’ll get what you need in time.” matt spits, dragging you to your feet again by the makeshift ponytail he’s gripping of your hair.

he sits himself down on the couch, tapping his knee so you know your place to sit.

“gonna keep me nice ‘n warm. not allowed to move, got it?” he tells you, hand wrapped tightly around your neck as he pulls you down onto his cock, seating perfectly within you. “please, need to move, just let m-“ you beg, again turning to the pure desperation that’s ripping at you from inside.

“i said no, you need to listen, little slut.” matt growls, his hand still attached to your neck like a necklace, other hand tapping at your cheek to make you flinch.

he makes you wait, the feeling of him nestled so deep bringing that warm feeling back, with no building feeling. the hand around your neck keeps you in place, no matter how many times you try to rock against matt’s hips to feel some relief.

“so needy for me to fuck you, wanna come? that what you need so bad?” he’s asking, eyes darkened to the point his pupils are hard to find. gently, his hands meet your hips and start rocking you back and forth, your moans immediately filling the space of your air, matt’s heavy breaths through his nose becoming audible when he feels the way your walls clench around him.

“yes, yes please, daddy let me come please.” you speak, words coming so fast part of you wonders if he really knows what you said. and you can tell matt is getting close when you start to bounce on him, feeling his length hit the spot you need him so badly.

his warm, tough fingers finally place themselves at your clit, tight circles rubbed around, gathering your slick as you continue to pump up and down on him, listening to his grunts and moans mix with your own - and the way his thighs clench underneath yours tells you you’re about to feel him fill you exactly the way you like.

“g-gonna come, fill me up please, please…” you’re trailing off, just speaking into the ether and hoping he makes enough sense of you.

“oh, fuck, fill y’up so much- ah-“ he stutters, and the feeling of him painting your insides triggers your own orgasm, clenching so tight around him it’s hard for him to lift you up and down his length with the way you suck him in.

your head collapses onto his shoulder, hips slowly coming to a stop as you sit together and try to match your breathing. the silence that sits around you is a peaceful one, full of gratification and released need.

“maybe you should interrupt me more during work.”

- tags -

@lambmurdock @parker-murdock @silas-aeiou @audreyclimbs @pupmurdock @millennial-birkin @poeticbookwormcat

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

chat what are we thinking about readers first smoke with Jay and she gets too high and he has to take care of her 😜 (thank yew queen)

Press F in the chat to pay respects for reader

(hello my name is teeth and I’m something of a stoner. But only a little.)

swearing, gn reader (no pronouns used) no use of y/n

————

“I think this is a bad idea.”

“What?” You look up from the table where Jason’s rolling you a joint. “Why?”

“You’ve never smoked before.” As if he’s convincing himself more than you, Jason takes his hands off the rolling paper and folds them across his chest, looking at you seriously.

“Jason, are you serious? You smoke all the time, it’s fine!”

“I kill people all the time,” he shoots back, and you roll your eyes.

“You have to stop bringing that up, it’s not the trump card you think it is.” You gesture at the table. “Come on, keep going.” Jason raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Yeah, I’m giving you an order. Roll me a fat one.”

He bursts out laughing, covering his mouth so he doesn’t scatter the weed on the table. “Baby, I am rolling you the skinniest, most weenie-ass joint you’ve ever seen in your life.”

You start to argue, but then reconsider. Seeing your face, he adds: “this joint’ll touch your lips and you’ll keel over, high as a kite.”

“Shut up, I’m not that much of a lightweight.”

“Whatever you say, princess.” He finishes rolling with a flourish, handing it to you. “Alright, baby, this is where rubber meets road.”

You eye it, almost fearfully. “It’ll be fine?” You’ve heard enough stories of people having panic attacks to be nervous.

His face softens. “Yeah, doll, it’ll be fine. I’ll be here to make sure.”

“Okay.” You take it from him and stand up, moving toward your window. “Can we do it on the fire escape?”

Jason cocks a glance at your window. “Yeah, wait a second.” He moves your plant and candle off the windowsill and drags a chair to help you climb out.

“I’m not made of glass, Jay,” you say reproachfully.

“I know, I know.” He takes the joint from you and climbs outside, turning back to offer you a hand. “Just wanna make sure you don’t trip on your way back in.”

You take his hand and follow him outside. It’s late at night, almost two in the morning, and the ground seems very far away from your apartment on the tenth floor. There are people milling about, but you feel separate from them, floating in space high above. The night air has you suspended.

Making yourself comfortable in the close space, you lean against the brick of your building’s wall and hug your knees to your chest. Jason sits beside you, and you pluck the joint from his fingers, sticking it in your mouth. You look around, realizing you forgot a lighter.

Jason chuckles at you, reaching into his pocket for his carton of cigarettes and pulling out his lighter. “Here, sweetheart.” You try to take it out of his hand, but he holds it out of your reach. “Uh, fair warning. It’s going to hurt.”

“Well, yeah, I’ve heard that you, like, cough your brains out.”

“Yeah, okay. It feels like shit. Just so you know.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I know, relax.”

He smiles softly at you, holding up the lighter and clicking the flame alight. You hold up the joint to it, but he stops you. “Here, put it in your mouth and breathe in, that’s what gets it going.”

You nod, doing as he says. Jason holds the lighter to the joint, eyeing you carefully. You hold his gaze and take a deep, deliberate inhale.

Dust fills your lungs, and you rip the joint from your mouth as you cough loud enough to wake the dead.

“Easy, sweetheart.” Jason rubs your back as you hack up a lung, waiting for the feeling to go away.

“I’m okay,” you wheeze, and he smiles at you, disbelieving look on his face. “I’m okay. Gimme, I want another pull.”

He hands the joint back to you cautiously, and you raise it shakily to your lips. You take another hit and start coughing all over again, but it’s not as bad this time around. Eyes watering, you pull for a third time and exhale, blowing out the smoke so that it drifts over your heads.

You take a break, drawing in breaths of clean air. “Will you have some?”

“Naw, sweetheart,” he shakes his head. “Don’t want both of us to be stupid, what if something happens?”

You let out a wet cough. “Classic Jay,” you smile at him.

He grins back. “Here, I’ll have one of my own, keep you company.” Jason pulls out one of his cigarettes and lights it, taking an easy drag. You do another hit, then two. Jason watches you carefully. After your third, he puts a hand on your wrist.

“Okay, doll. Cuttin’ you off. That’ll be enough to get a you high.”

“Yeah, okay.” You let him gently put the joint out on the metal of the fire escape and lay your head against his shoulder.

The minutes tick on as you wait to feel your buzz. You watch Jason’s cigarette smoke curl up to the sky. After a while you realize you’ve been staring, slack jawed, for what feels like forever. The night has taken on a weird film, bubbling happily at the edges.

“Whoa.”

“Yeah?” You tip your head back to see Jason glancing down at you. “You feelin’ it?”

You stare at him blankly, a slow smile growing on your face.

“Oh, yeah.” He snickers, hugs you tighter to his side. “You’re zonked.”

“Mmh.” You look around again, taking in the night around you. Every small movement of your head or eyes takes you forever, like you’re shoving boulders out of the way as you get a better glance. You feel like all your energy has been pulled to the crown of your head, making it wobble on your shoulders.

“You feel good?” Jason’s words float down to you.

You nod, realizing your lips are still stretched in a wide smile.

“Good.”

You lean on him for what feels like hours. When Jason checks in with you again, you frown at him. The flimsy feeling hasn’t gone away, and you worry you’re stuck in it.

“Feels so much. Will it go away?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, it will. C’mon, let’s go inside.” He directs you through the window, and you climb inside, flopping onto the floor.

“You want a snack?” Jason asks.

Your eyes open wide. “Yes,” you answer fervently.

“Thought you might.” Jason looks at you fondly. “What do you want?”

You think for a moment. “Chip.”

He laughs at you. “Yeah, okay, chip comin’ right up.” Jason walks away, and you stare at the ceiling. A bag of chips appears in front of your face.

“Chip.” You rip it open and pop one in your mouth, but chewing is harder than you thought. “Ugh. My mouth is so dry.”

“Yeah, that happens.” Jason falls onto the couch, and hauls you up next to him. “Let’s watch something.” Jason clicks on the TV. “Anything you want to see?”

You scrunch up your nose. “Finding Nemo.”

Jason laughs. “Alright. Finding Nemo.”

He puts it on and you burrow into his side. Focusing on the movie makes you feel better, and soon, you’re nodding off.

“Hmm, that was fun,” you sigh right before you pass out. “Thanks, Jay.”

He gives you a kiss on the head. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

———

Nothing sexier than saying “will you roll me a joint?” to a hot man, and then having him roll you a joint

Also I don’t think Jason would smoke with you unfortunately, I think he’d be too nervous that something would happen, like someone would connect the dots between you and red hood and then try and hurt you while he was schlonked out

Didn’t focus too much on reader being too high bc the one time I greened out was Not Pleasant. But if y’all really want me to maybe I’ll write about it…….

[tangylemonade]

Friends w/ Benefits 

Jeonghan x afab reader  18+ MINORS DNI (istg 🫵🏾 ಠ_ಠ if I catch you)

Literally just wrote this lol and it's not actually proofread (I looked over it once). Maybe 1k I need to go to bed but I wanted to write so here I am (btw thank you anon for the suggestion 😊) It's basically just smut with dialog and a bit of angst I guess

The buzz of your doorbell was unexpected but not surprising. You knew Jeonghan had gotten off of work around this time and on particularly stressful days he seemed to find himself at your door holding a bottle of wine waiting for you to open up.

“And he's back...” you said jokingly, as you opened the door and turned back into your kitchen.

“Treat me kindly, I bear gifts.” he retorted as he kicked off his shoes and shut the door.

“I was just about to eat dinner. You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

Jeonghan followed you into the kitchen, opening the cabinet right away and taking out the wine glasses.

“Mhhhh…that smells good.” he dipped his finger into the sauce you were simmering and popped it into his mouth. “Needs a tad more salt.”

“Gross.” you said swatting him away but still adding a pinch of salt and stirring the dinner that was always far too much for only you.

You served you both and sat down at the table.

“Ohh, I see you've brought out your finest China madam.” Jeonghan said as he picked up the plastic spoon you placed next to his paper plate.

“Fuck off. Are you gonna wash the dishes?”

All he did was laugh his little gremlin laugh and take a bite.

“This is delicious. I'm glad I came at the last minute and saved your dinner from disaster.”

“I think you're dehydrated darling; this is a bit too salty.”

“It tastes perfect to me.” He said with a shrug. “This wine tastes like shit though.”

“There really is no better pairing.” you said with a laugh.

“Agreed.”

Once dinner was done you put the pots in your refrigerator and threw out the dishes.

“And clean.” you said flopping down on the couch and putting your feet on Jeonghan’s lap.

“I'm gonna go shower. Wanna join me?” Jeonghan asked as he stretched and got up.

You nodded and followed him into the bathroom ripping off your clothes and tossing them in your hamper. Jeonghan followed suit, except he purposely ignored the hamper step, and turned on the shower, hopping in right away.

“Seriously? The hamper is right there.”

You rolled your eyes and put his things in your hamper which now had just as many of his clothes as yours.

“Jeonghan, you're gonna have to start paying some of my water bill if you keep this up.”

You stepped into the shower to find him slowly stroking his erection as the hot water ran through his long hair.

“Good god you couldn't wait.”

“You were taking so long.”

“Picking up your clothes.”

“Whatever. Get over here.”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him under the water. Your soft lips bounced into his as his hands ran along your ass and thighs. Running your hands through his hair you grabbed a handful and tugged, pulling a moan from his hungry lips. Dropping your hands down to his cock you stroked him adding a little squeeze just to feel the falter in his kisses along your neck.

“You’re really sensitive today.”

“Long day.” Jeonghan said before pushing you up against the shower wall.

His fingers found your clit and he returned that favor with a pinch that had you almost slip.

“Wait.” you said breathlessly as you stopped his hand. “Sit down, I wanna ride you.”

Jeonghan happily complied as he sat back in the tub of the shower and looked up at your body.

He could stare at you like that forever. 

In the dim light of the bathroom your body looked heavenly as the water patted on your skin. 

You lowered yourself onto him, your pussy lips laying on his throbbing cock and making it twitch in frustration. Looking down into his eyes you drove him crazy as you sinfully moved your hips and dragged your wet pussy up and down his shaft. Jeonghan’s hands traveled up and down your body as he squeezed at your breast, his thumb and index playing and squeezing your nipple.

“Fuck.” Jeonghan breathed out as your heat continued to glide against him. “Let me fill you baby.”

You lifted your hips as he reached down and guided himself into you, your walls naturally sucking him in with greed.

Jeonghan's hands that once again sought purchase on your breast were met with yours as you pinned them above his head and leaned in to capture his lips. Nipping and sucking you marveled at the quickness in which Jeonghan’s fair skin began to show signs of your obsession.

Greedily you rocked your hips, your moans syncing with his and bouncing loudly off the bathroom walls.

“So good....” you moaned.

Your eyes fluttered open and closed as you anchored yourself against Jeonghan’s chest and picked up your pace.

But Jeonghan's eyes watched you. He watched your body move with sensual fluidity as you pulled more pleasure out of him than anyone else ever could. He watched your flushed face through the steam of the shower as your eyebrows crinkled in pleasure. He swallowed every one of your kisses as you languidly laid them against his open mouth.

The shower water patterned off of your hot bodies as they rocked together chasing the high of the moment.

Jeonghan took in your every quirk and your every expression as the feeling of you and watching your pleasure drove him over the edge. You were already pulsing in hot waves around him and that was all he needed. 

Jeonghan held you close as he thrusted into you a few more times before his own orgasm shot from him in fiery pleasure. He leaned back and looked up at you once again as you dazedly looked up at the ceiling and caught your breath. 

The water and sweat trickled down your neck to your collarbone, along your soft mounds, and off your nipples onto Jeonghan’s body as he drank in your afterglow.

Too soon you rose from off of him chuckling at Jeonghan as he continued to lay down in the tub. Your and his juices were still dripping down your thigh and glistening on his cock. 

Jeonghan still made no effort to move so you put on a little show for him in sensual jest-fullness as you sudsed up and washed off, his eyes unwaveringly watching you. Laughing you stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around your body.

“Seriously Jeonghan, I'm gonna send you my water bill this month. Don't stay in there too long.”

With that you were out of the bathroom shutting the door behind you. Jeonghan let out a breath before rising tiredly from the tub. He felt that way after every fuck. Beyond please and very exhausted in so many ways. 

He finished showering before drying off and getting dressed

Jeonghan walked into your room, your his towel over his head as he shook it around to dry his hair.

“Move over.”

“Jeonghan… you know how I feel about cuddling.”

He threw his wet towel at you and rolled his eyes. “Who wants to cuddle with you?”

You tossed the towel back at him before rolling over and giving him some room.

You laid there in his shirt, so soft and warm as you drew your favorite cold and distancing line.

“Whatever dude, just stay on your side.”

He had a side in your bed that he'd lose the moment he crossed. Jeonghan shook his head at the absurdity before flopping down next to you and slipping under the covers, pulling more towards him.

Jeonghan smiled as he felt your foot on his back, kicking against him and pulling your covers back.

“Nice try buddy but you forget who's boss.”

“Well, it was worth a shot.” Jeonghan said before releasing the extra blanket that he didn't even need.

How could he forget who was boss when everything here followed your terms of engagement. But then again, Jeonghan agreed so who was he to complain?

“Listen Jeonghan.” you said after the first night something like this had happened. “You'll always be my best friend but we're adults so that doesn't mean we can't enjoy each other in uh… more ways if we want.”

Jeonghan agreed without a second thought.

“Friends,” he said with a smile. 

“With benefits?” 

Jeonghan shook the hand you were holding out to him. 

At the time it seemed like an excellent idea to him who only wanted to feel your body wrapped around him once more. Anything to have a part of you who was still too broken to give anything whole.

But now that his side of your bed was so cold he wasn't so sure anymore. 

He laid watching your back as your shoulder peacefully rose and fell.

“Friends.” he whispers to himself before rolling over.

MY MASTERLIST

[ratatoilett]

hello! So far you have made really good post, and it made me think, what if you made one about bakugou x y/n, they JUST started making out and started this thing where after class and even the cafeteria hours they would go to the roof top and make out, and then come back to class and act like nothing ever happened. Also somtimes he would throw a paper and secretly desk her under the desk where they would meet up. 😍

nylu's note : OK HOLD ON I LOVE THESE SNEAKY LITTLE RENDEVOUS SHIT

it wasn’t supposed to turn into a thing. but now it definitely is a thing.

it started after a sparring match — a draw, technically, but Bakugou called it "a pity win" and you called him "a sore loser with anger management issues." somehow, that turned into grabbing him by the collar and kissing the attitude off his face behind the gym.

now, you’re here. you, bakugou, and an unspoken agreement to sneak up to the rooftop whenever you could get away with it and make out like idiots.

totally healthy coping mechanism. very mature.

today, it’s the middle of lunch. you’re picking at a tray of mystery meat when something bounces off your shoe under the table.

you glance down: a crumpled piece of notebook paper.

subtle.

you unfold it under the table.

"12:35. roof. move your ass."

professional as always.

you bite back a grin and scribble back:

"busy. big meeting with my lawyer (aka literally anyone else I'd rather kiss)."

you flick it back with a perfect wrist snap — years of flicking erasers at the back of bakugou’s head finally paying off. It lands in his lap. he unfolds it, reads, and shoots you a glare that could fry a lesser human.

you wink across the room like the picture of innocence.

at exactly 12:35, you slip out of the cafeteria with the world’s most half-assed excuse. bakugou’s already at the stairwell, arms crossed, leaning against the wall like he owns the whole building.

"you’re late," he says.

you glance at your watch. "it’s 12:36."

"that’s late."

"okay, captain time management," you say, brushing past him to climb the stairs first. "next time i’ll bring a stopwatch."

"yeah, and maybe a personality too," he mutters, following.

you shoot him a look over your shoulder. "aw, it’s cute how you try to neg me like that. It's almost like you think it's working."

he just smirks — that cocky, lazy smirk he knows drives you insane — and holds the door open at the top of the stairs.

"you’re the one sprinting up here like a lovesick puppy," he says.

"i’m here for the fresh air," you lie easily. "and the view. sometimes I pity you enough to let you be part of it."

"you're so full of shit," he says, grabbing your jacket and yanking you in.

the door clicks shut, and suddenly it’s just the two of you, all that sharpness dissolving the second he kisses you.

bakugou kisses like he fights — intense, focused, a little desperate. like he’s trying to win at it somehow.

you break away just long enough to catch your breath.

"little aggressive today, huh?" you tease, hands sliding into the collar of his uniform.

"you’re mouthy today," he says, crowding you back against the door.

"i’m mouthy every day," you point out.

he huffs a laugh against your jaw, and it sends a little thrill down your spine.

"you like it," you add, grinning.

"debatable."

you kiss him again just to prove a point, and he kisses you back like it’s a challenge.

typical.

when you finally pull apart — barely — you’re both breathing a little harder than you want to admit. you fix your shirt, pat your hair down, and try to look like you weren’t just two seconds away from climbing him like a tree.

"you've got," bakugou gestures vaguely to your mouth, "lipstick. right there."

you wipe at the wrong side of your face.

"other side," he says, smirking like he’s enjoying this way too much.

"you’re useless," you grumble, trying again.

"you're the one who can't figure out left and right," he says, flicking your forehead lightly.

you swat at him, but he’s already turning toward the stairs like he didn’t just kiss the hell out of you ten seconds ago.

"you realize one day we’re gonna get caught," you say, jogging to catch up.

"not if you shut up and walk normal," he says.

you scoff. "i always walk normal. you’re the one stomping around like you’re about to arrest someone."

"if anyone’s getting arrested, it’s you. for harassment."

you laugh under your breath. "please. you’re practically begging for it."

he glances at you, a flash of something almost fond under the usual gruffness.

"maybe," he mutters.

you bump his shoulder lightly as you hit the bottom of the stairs.

and when you walk into the cafeteria separately — faces calm, clothes rumpled just enough to get away with it — you think for half a second you’ve pulled it off.

until kirishima squints at you.

then at bakugou.

then back at you.

you freeze.

kirishima leans across the table, voice low and conspiratorial.

"you two been working on, like, a secret handshake or something?"

bakugou snorts and sits down like nothing's wrong.

you just smile sweetly and say, "yep. very secret. top level hero stuff."

kirishima nods seriously. "cool. respect."

you catch bakugou smirking at you over his tray.

later, when you're back in class, another crumpled piece of paper lands in your lap.

"tomorrow. 12:35. same deal. try not to look so desperate this time."

you grin as you write back:

"i’ll try. no promises. you're kind of irresistible."

you flick it back.

it lands perfectly in his lap.

bakugou catches it without missing a beat, and you swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch.

yeah. this thing between you?

definitely not stopping anytime soon.

[bethelighthalazia]

Two fill better than one

Summary:  Your husbands San and Wooyoung have some very fulfilling fun with you. 

Genre: smut (MDNI)

Pairing: Dom!San x Wooyoung x fem!reader

Word Count:  982

Warnings: oral, unprotected sex, double penetration, slightly rough, little bit of aftercare

networks: @mirohs-aurora-society

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

“Shh, Do you hear this, Wooyoung?” San groans, placing his finger on his lips as he looks over to Wooyoung, who's watching the two of you, your head buried between San´s legs. The only sounds that could be heard were some sloppy, gagging sounds, your naked body convulsing when you feel his tip hit the back of your throat and causing you to almost choke on his cock.

“Shit, Sanie-” A whimpered moan escaped Wooyoung at this sight, his hand palming the bulge that formed in his pants. He had burst into the room while you and San had some fun and the pink haired male made his best friend watch. Sans free hand reaches down, his fingers grasp into your hair to pull you off his length, a mix of his precum and your spit connecting your lips to his crotch. “C’mon, let me have some fun too-”

Wooyoung's words alone let you wiggle your butt, your legs instinctively spreading a little more while being on all four, your head still hovering above San's hard cock. “Shut it, Wooyoung. I told you to wait. And you, jagi, should know better than to be a brat like him.” San hums, his hand caressing your cheek gently before giving it a slap. Sometimes, especially when Wooyoung is involved, you can get quite bratty. The slap stings, but it's not that painful. Even though San tends to be the rougher one between him and Wooyoung, he never truly hurt you. 

While San did this, Wooyoung had moved, only wearing his opened shirt, his hard member fully on display for you and San. His hands landing on your ass with a loud smack, drawing a squeak from you. “You've had your fun, Sanie! Besides, she's not yours only, all three of us signed the papers, remember?” Wooyoung's whiney voice let you groan, head tilting so you could shoot him a glance. However, this view just does something to you. His hair lazily brushed back, which accentuates his face even more, especially with his oreo hair. You actually had bribed his stylists to let him keep this hairstyle for a little longer.

Lifting his head a little, San reaches out to you, grabbing your chin and pulling you in for a kiss, he didn't care about tasting himself on your lips. While moving, you could feel his cock brush against your stomach, his tip perfectly aligned with your entrance. Wooyoung moved too, his hands still on your ass and you could feel his member pressing against your folds as well. 

“Boys no- hnng~ we tried that once…you both don't fi-” They don't let you finish this sentence though, drawing a screamed moan from you as they both chuckle and push at the same time, entering the same hole simultaneously. And you were right, both of them at the same time are too big. “Fuck-” Wooyoung's fingertips dig into your butt cheeks, pushing your body forwards a bit. When your hands slip on the ground, you find yourself nestled against San's chest, your lips connecting in a loving kiss as he wraps his arms around you. 

Both of them always make sure that you feel safe, you even talked about a safe word in the beginning of your relationship. You never needed it in the previous years of your relationship and you refuse to use it unless really necessary.

The first to move is Wooyoung, very slowly pushing his hips forwards. You could feel him rub against your insides, pushing deeper, but also pushing San deeper into you with this motion. It doesn't take much to tip you over the edge and cause a first orgasm to ripple through your body. Your walls squeezing them hard, both men let out a grunt, San´s head dropping back onto the ground as his hips instinctively move.

“Shi- y/n! Can't even take both her men properly, huh?” Wooyoung moans out in a challenging way, a smirk appearing on his lips when he looks at San over your shoulder. Then, with one fluent and hard thrust, he pushes your hips down. You can feel both their cocks pushing deep into your tight folds, spreading your walls. This is the first time they actually manage to make you squirt from an orgasm. When you're twitching heavily between them, both men chuckle, moving their hips in a steady pace to fuck you through your orgasm.

You could feel them falter after a few more thrusts, your walls squeezing them hard and it doesn't take much longer for both to reach their own orgasms as well, coating your insides in white. Heavily breathing, you just slump onto San, Wooyoung falling forwards and almost squeezing you between himself and his hyung, but he manages to catch himself. When the younger male slowly gets up from you, you feel him slowly pull out, drawing a quiet whimper from you. He breathes slowly for a few moments before he vanishes into the bathroom, San wrapping his arms around you, your whole body shivering and trembling still. 

“Lets get some rest, jagi…” San mumbles quietly, his breath going quickly and a deep moan escapes him when he moves and pulls out of you while sitting up. Your arms wrap around his neck instinctively when San gets up, his legs a bit wobbly as he walks over to the bathroom, Wooyoung opening the door, so you and San can enter too, so the three of you can share a bath. Wooyoung already had let in the hot bath, in which San sits down with you, your back leaned against his chest and then the younger also joins, smiling softly as he then kisses you and San. “I love you, boys. So so hmm- much.” You whisper with a loving expression, but soon, your eyes drop shut and you fall asleep in the arms of your beloved husbands.

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