#i put it on for background noise and got distracted by it <-i will never learn my lesson

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

(guy after watching over 8 hours of a show in one sitting voice) hmmm actually i think this show kinda sucks

[rcmclachlan]

OKAY so this is for @dadvans specifically because he and I have spent many an evening across multiple fandoms shouting at each other about various characters and their raging pregnancy kinks but anyway.

I saw this post.

And I had this thought that Tommy's probably only ever thought of children tangentially. Like, I kind of clock him as an only child who didn't have any little kids in his neighborhood growing up. His dad's sister had three, all of them older than him, and his mom's brother had two but they lived on the other side of the country so he only saw them in Christmas card photos and once at his grandmother's funeral.

The only kids he's ever around are the ones he sees on calls, who are all either unconscious, traumatized, or somewhere in the background out of the way where he doesn't have to interact with them. He's basically that gif of Alec Baldwin trying to console a crying Tina Fey with a broom, like, "there there."

But now that his life is enmeshed with the 118, he's around kids all the time: Jee, Christopher, Denny, Mara. And he sees Buck with them—how good he is to them, how patient and kind and compassionate, how he listens seriously to them and always tries to meet them on their level—and it's doing something for him. Like, a lot.

Then, like, one evening Buck and Tommy have dinner with Kameron and Connor, and they bring the baby—who has Buck's eyes and the same shape of his lips—with them, and Tommy watches Buck like a hawk all night. Buck's a natural with Spencer: holding him like a pro, soothing him whenever he fussed, making him laugh. He's loath to put him down.

Tommy's never seen someone so suited to be a parent before. He knows Buck wants kids more than anything. Buck stops to interact with every child they pass on the street the way Tommy does with dogs, like he can't help it, like he's got a homing beacon inside him. And children gravitate to Buck like he's a Disney princess. And after watching Buck with Kameron and Connor's kid, Tommy can't stop thinking about it. About Buck and kids. Specifically, Buck and their kids. 

Tommy looks out into his backyard and can picture Buck out there putting together one of those plastic Fisher Price playhouses and running around chasing after a toddler waddling around on chubby legs and tucked up next to a crib in the guest room-turned-nursery reading The Little Mouse, the Red Ripe Strawberry, and the Big Hungry Bear to a drooling baby trying to shove its foot in its mouth. A baby with Buck's eyes and mouth, and Tommy's nose and cheeks. 

SO ANYWAY smash cut to later that night and Tommy's balls-deep in Buck, fucking him slowly, doing it missionary the way Buck loves because this way they can kiss and he can see every stupid expression that crosses Tommy's face, and Tommy's staring down at him and blurts out, "You were really good with Spencer tonight." 

And Buck sort of gasp-laughs, like, "You know I love kids," and he arches up against Tommy, and Tommy's hand slides down between them so he can get a hand on Buck's cock, but halfway there he gets distracted by the feeling of Buck's belly. It's taut and toned and flexing with every thrust, and out of nowhere a little voice in his head goes but imagine what it would look like with a bump. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

And then his brain kind of makes a weird popping noise and his mouth goes rogue and says, "I know you do. I know you wanna have kids. Would you wanna have my kids?"

Evan's eyes fly open wide and he sort of stutter-wheezes in shock, "What? What do you—"

But now that Tommy's started, he can't stop, and the leisurely pace he'd been maintaining loses rhythm before picking up the pace, just these deep, dragging thrusts that pull at Evan's hole on the drawback. "But I don't think you'd be satisfied with just being handed a kid. I think you'd want it to be part of you from the start. I think you'd wanna feel it every step of the way. You want to feel it growing inside you so bad, don't you, baby? I bet it's all you think about."

"Tommy, what the fuck—" But Evan's mouth is open and panting, tongue lolling around in his mouth like it's suddenly too big to control, and he starts shuddering hard enough that his bones must be rattling. Tommy can feel his fat dick twitching against his stomach, drooling so much precome the glide between them is soaked and almost too easy, and Evan's insides are vibrating where they clutch Tommy's cock like a vice.

With a grunt, Tommy gathers Evan's impossibly long legs in the bends of his elbows and folds him practically in half, wheezing like he's gutshot, "Maybe I can't trust you with our condoms anymore. Maybe you've poked holes in all of them."

"Oh fuck, that's so hot," Evan gasps, his arms flying up over his head so he can put his hands against the headboard and fuck himself wildly back on Tommy's cock, his eyes wide and scandalized, and alight with a lust bordering on violent. Even through the condom, Tommy can feel how hot he is inside, like a fever, like magma.

They've fucked a million ways since they first got together—enthusiastic, rough, slow, sweet, hard, exhausted, frenzied, grateful—but they've never fucked like this: just absolutely nasty. 

"What are you gonna do if the condom breaks?" Tommy gasps into Evan's ear, then bites it while Evan drags in desperate gulps of air and scrabbles for purchase on Tommy's back, fingers slipping in sweat. "I'd fill you up. I'd shove so much come up inside you that it'd have to take."

Evan's wailing so loud the neighbors are absolutely going to call the cops and his hole is rippling around Tommy's dick so good that Tommy's eyes roll back into his head, and then Evan starts begging like his heart's breaking, "Oh god, oh fuck, please, baby, do it, I want it so much, I want to feel it."

Through the sweat dripping in his stinging eyes, Tommy looks down at Evan, who's got his teeth bared like an animal, who's taking every punishing thrust like it's his due, even as his eyes well up with tears that spill over his temples into his hairline. He thinks of how it would feel without the condom between them, how he would see-saw his cock through wads of his own come into the dripping hot sleeve of Evan's body, every thrust pushing more and more of it into some secret place where it would stay until something took root. He squeezes his eyes shut, because if he spends one more second looking at the hungry, crazed expression twisting Evan's face into a rictus, he's going to come.

The bed frame's making metal-on-metal sounds that don't sound like they're covered under the warranty, but Tommy can't stop fucking Evan like he's trying to split him down the middle. He's going to shove his way inside until he reaches the pulp at the center and pries Evan open like a nectarine. 

"You want it?" Tommy bites out, then doesn't wait for an answer, dropping down and smearing his mouth over Evan's in a fierce, sloppy kiss, sucking his tongue, biting his lips. Their teeth clack together painfully and Evan makes wounded noises into his mouth when Tommy's cock grinds up deep inside him. Tommy fucks him brutally until he stops.

Breaking away with a choked gasp, Evan chants tearfully, "Oh my god, oh my god, come in me, please, I want you to, god, Tommy, fuck me pregnant," and then comes messily between them, and there's so much of it like there always is, soaking their skin, sliding down to get sucked up by the sheets. Evan sobs and comes and comes and comes himself insensate.

The combination of the hard clench of Evan's body and his desperate pleas touches some part of Tommy's lizard brain that feels like a one-two punch, and he fucks in and in and in frantically, buries himself inside that trembling furnace, and finally something breaks and he comes like it's the last thing he'll ever do.

Gracelessly, he collapses on top of Evan, sucking in great, painful gulps of air, while Evan shivers underneath him like he's been electrocuted (again). Somehow, Evan still finds the wherewithal to throw his arms around Tommy's back and cling, pulling down on him as though he can somehow make Tommy sink deeper into him, like he never wants to not be glued together by sweat and come. Impossible. Tommy's two-hundred-and-something pounds of deadweight and his head is full of television snow. He's a husk of a man. He's probably going to die here.

Evan coughs into Tommy's hair. His voice is in absolute tatters when he chokes out, "That was a hell of a way to ask if I want kids."

From where his face is smashed into the bed just above Evan's shoulder, Tommy mumbles, "I think every single brain cell my body's ever made is in the condom right now. Good thing you're the smart one or else our kid would be up shit creek."

Evan's entire body shakes with laughter, and Tommy can't help but join in, exhaustedly lifting his head so he doesn't miss a second more of that grin. If Athena knew the kinds of things Tommy'd do for that smile, she'd throw his ass in prison for the next 500 years.

"At least they'd still be pretty," Evan says, snickering. 

"There is that," Tommy agrees, and with a grunt he forces himself off the warm, welcoming mattress that Evan's allowed himself to become to deal with the aforementioned condom. He shudders in revulsion when he slides it off and tying it is an exercise in futility—it's disgustingly full and his hands are shaking. 

Evan lifts his head to see what he's doing, then lets it drop back with a huff. "Just wrap it in a bunch of tissues."

"Is it weird that I resent wearing it at all?" Tommy finally loops it so he can tie the knot, then throws it in the direction of the little trash barrel on the other side of the nightstand. It hits the floor with the same slap a water balloon makes. Tommy skeeves a face at it.

"'Course not," Evan says, sliding a hand up Tommy's thigh, aimless. "Our kid's swimming around in there somewhere."

Tommy risks a look at his face, because there's going with the flow and then there's letting your boyfriend plow you into the mattress while he tells you he wants to get you pregnant. But Evan doesn't look mad or like he's laughing at Tommy. He mostly looks peaceful, and maybe a little bemused. 

"Uh, I'm sorry about that," Tommy says, feeling so awkward he wants to peel his own skin off. It shapes his words strangely. "I just—watching you with Spencer made me a little insane, I think."

"Don't be sorry. I think I learned something new about myself tonight, but hell if I can tell you what it is." A sly smile spreads across Evan's face like a flame on a candle's wick. "Either way, it was fucking hot."

Relief unwinds all the muscles in Tommy's lower back, and he hunkers down, slotting himself up against Evan and pillowing his cheek on Evan's chest. Almost immediately, Evan slides the pads of his fingers up and down his spine, and Tommy can feel himself rapidly approaching post-nut blackout territory.

"But kids, though," Evan murmurs thoughtfully.

"Mm." Tommy sketches a nuzzle against Evan's nipple, which earns him a laugh and a slap to the back of the head. He chuckles and settles down with a hum. "Yeah. Well, our kids."

"Huh." The smile on Evan's face is audible, and deafening.

[thatlittlered]

would've, could've, should've | aaron hotchner

warning(s): one whole curse word, smoking, stunning amount of fluff and a little bit of action

GIF by @littlecarmine

part one

part two

author's note: Sorry for the delay, hope it was worth it! I also want to thank the sweet anon for the ask with the Robert Siken poem, which I included here. Next part will be straight-up filthy smut, so stay tuned, fellow sluts.

Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

You don’t see much of each other for the next couple of days. Aaron is on autopilot, avoiding any chance to be alone with you. The rest of the team unknowingly act as a buffer and all he has to do is not look at you during work hours, keep the door to his office shut to not hear your laughter.

It’s a relief when you and Morgan are called to testify in court for a case. You’re somewhere far away for the day, where he knows you’re safe and he can go back to pretending nothing has changed.

The problems start when he’s not being kept busy.

 How much paperwork can one person do?

The stars align oddly in his favor and he’s into calls or meetings until long after everyone else has gone home. When ten pm rolls around, he finally calls it quits but sees no point in leaving in a hurry. It’s past Jack’s bed time, it’d be cruel to wake him up now and carry him back home when tomorrow’s Sunday. If all goes well, he can pick him in the morning and they’ll get to spend the day together.

His finger is hovering over Jessica’s number when he spots your name in his call logs. It’s silly and childish, but he hasn’t thought of you in a couple of hours and God.

Deep down, he knows he’s been incredibly unfair to you. He had to. Had to tell himself it was something outside of him causing him torment. An obstacle to overcome, a distraction to ignore. He had to act as if you were forcing your way into his life in order to be able to put up walls, but what have you really done except exist near him? He is the one to blame for allowing it to grow beneath his skin; succumbing to his need for some sort of intimacy when he could have -should have- nipped this at the bud a very long time ago. He recognized it within himself the other day, when he realized he could have -should have- kissed you.

But nothing is healed with a kiss. Only new grievances arise.

It’s where you go from there that matters and he finds himself unable to guide or be guided.

Where do you go from here?

When he decides to feed his insomnia with a cup of late-night coffee, he is yet again reminded of you. So, he calls, but you don’t answer and he pours another, completely indifferent to the idea of sleep.

It’s getting too late to be here, even by his standards. He tries calling again, but, no answer. He gathers his stuff to leave and there is a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach when he settles inside the car. It’s only eleven and you always say you never sleep this early.

Another call, this time to Emily, who miraculously, picks up.

“Hello? Hotch?”

There is a deafening buzz in the background; loud voices and music blasting.

Aaron apologizes for the late hour and tries to be discreet when he asks about you. Says he needs to go over something about a case file but you won’t answer his calls and he got worried.

“Yeah, she’s fine, she’s right here with me, but it’s a little hard to get her right now. Is it urgent?”

“Uh, no, don’t bother her. Is everyone else there too?”

“Not everyone, just the two of us, Garcia and Morgan. Do you need them as well?”

You didn’t invite him, why would you? He would have never said yes.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Sorry, sir, I can’t make out much with all this noise. We’re at the ‘Matter’ if you need us. I’ll tell the guys to call you as soon as they can, okay? Have a good night.”

So, he drives two miles a little before midnight to come sit outside ‘Matter’, which is apparently a very busy nightclub downtown, half a mile away from the nearest parking spot he could find.

He doesn’t really know why he came.

He can’t come in and join you. Can’t ask for you.

They probably wouldn’t even let him in while dressed like this.

It’s very unclear what the next step is.

He knows it’s pointless to call you again when you’re probably too busy dancing and drinking with a great many people who are not him. Morgan has some trouble keeping his hands to himself when he drinks.

He sits on the curb of the street, cracks open the pack of cigarettes he snack out of the car’s glove compartment, always hidden below the insurance papers. Astoundingly loud music plays every time the doors to the club open and people come out stumbling, kissing sloppily and dragging each other away.

He just wants to see you and put this horrible feeling inside him to rest.

“No fucking way.”

He jolts at the sound of your voice and throws away the cigarette, putting it out with his shoe before he turns to see you standing outside the club. You approach timidly until you can be sure it’s him and when you step closer to the streetlight, he can really see you. The clothes you could never wear to work, the shoes you apparently spend all your money on. You’re beautiful.

He can’t possibly move until you’re sat beside him. For the first time in what seems like forever, now that he’s grown so used to it, you keep a very respectable distance between your bodies.

“You didn’t have to throw it away; I already saw you and,” you pick up the abandoned carton from the sidewalk and almost laugh at how immaculate it looks just having been opened, “I have so many questions. Since when do you smoke?”

His voice is quiet, unamused.

“Almost never.”

You look at him curiously and he thinks you would make a great interrogator simply by the way you make everyone around you spill their souls out if it will satisfy you.

“Sometimes when I’m very stressed.”

You hum, “I never would have guessed that.”

He laughs to himself and looks at his hands.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of things that are not typical of me lately.”

You help yourself to a cigarette and he cups his hand over yours when the breeze makes it too hard to light up.

“Is that because of me? Am I a bad influence?”

“No. It’s me, I’m the common denominator.”

You hum again and smile at him teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Breakthrough.”

“So, this is what therapy is like?”

He wants to thank you, for always trying to make things as easy as possible for him. You open the door and difficult as it may seem, all he really has to do is walk through it.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t smoke in session.”

“Oh good.”

You’re sitting closer again and Aaron doesn’t know how. He doesn’t think either of you moved. He keeps his eyes on the road in front of him, glances at you only from the corner of his eye. Your perfume mingles with the smoke of the cigarette and it’s all a haze to him.

“Why are you not inside?”

“I needed a breath; it was very loud and packed in there… and I finally saw your calls.”

He hums, unable to find anything else to say.

“Why are you here?

“I don’t know.”

He knows that is not a good enough of an answer.

“I always have this terrible feeling that something is going to happen to you.”

Your shoulder touches his and he can admire the smoothness of it, focus on each mark there to avoid the dreaded eye contact.

“Do you think that fear is reasonable, or is it rooted in something else?’

His eyes shut tightly, “Don’t do that, please. Don’t talk to me like I’m a subject.”

“You use your ‘agent tone’ all the time outside of work.”

His voice deepens, “I am aware.”

Heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry I did all that and then backed out at the last minute.”

“It’s alright. I think I knew you would.”

“See, that’s even worse.”

You look at his suit, the wrinkles that have formed in the shirt underneath from the hours of wear.

“Did you come here straight from the office?”

A sigh, “Yeah.”

You nod your head in understanding and move to put out what’s left of the cigarette.

“I’m alright. I’ve got the others too; they’ll take me home. You can relax now.”

“I don’t think I ever can.”

You don’t know what to say really. If what he needs is time, you can give it, but he seems undecided as well when he picks up your hand.

“I think I’m scared of what will happen once the line is crossed.”

A confession.

That, you did not expect.

“Aside from the complications at work, I just,” his hand rubs gently on the spot your watch has left its mark, “I have proved time and time again that I can’t handle any relationship beyond professionalism and once we stop being just colleagues, I will lose you completely from my life.”

“Do you think that line has not been crossed already?”

He laughs quietly.

You can both feel the bouncer looking at you and Aaron is suddenly aware of how vulnerable he is right now.

“I guess it has.”

You’re both quiet for a little while.

“I have to go back inside now, or they’ll start getting worried.”

He looks like he’s about to say something, but no words leave his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them you were here.”

That hurt. You know it, but what else was there to say?

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll know.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze before you leave and he’s left staring while you go back inside.

-.-.-

A little past two, the girls drop you off in a shared cub before going their separate ways and you rush to your apartment building, only to find Aaron waiting there.

“Well, you certainly have a thing for sitting on curbs.”

He looks tired, so tired, and alone in the empty street. It’s very hard to maintain your position when he always looks this beaten down in his most tender moments. You wish to care for him, love him back into happiness but that wouldn’t be fair.

Still, you can’t help but go to him and he is relieved that you sit closer this time.

“Have you been waiting here this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

You softly take his right hand to look at his watch. His body relaxes at the touch.

“Huh.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, but I’m a little more drunk than the last time you saw me.”

Your skin glows under the soft moonlight and he notices.

It is technically tomorrow now.

“How drunk?”

His face moves closer and you can’t help but shiver at the sudden change. His breath is warm on your face. The words come out in a whisper.

“Not that much.”

That’s all it takes.

His lips press against yours once… then twice and then… he doesn’t stop.

You always thought he’d be one to kiss carefully and with absolute purpose, just like he does everything else, but he kisses like a man on fire. He seeks to quench something deep inside of him and you provide happily. The remnants of your lip gloss tingle on his mouth, as if kissing you alone is not enough of an awakening.

It’s becoming increasingly hard to keep up with breathing when he envelops you so, and cages you in the pleasant whirl of his scent. When you break away for breath, he’s quick to capture you once more. His hands come to your face to keep you there until he’s had enough, but how he can he ever have enough of you?

He only lets you go because he has to. You’re both practically panting and he can’t decide what to do. He wants to kiss you, look at you, touch you, but it cannot all be done at once. When your own hand comes to his face just below his jawline, he melts under the touch. His eyes are sunken, his body is begging for rest, but it would not come without you.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

His voice is low and breathy when he nods.

“Yeah…”

-.-.-

You walk upstairs, hand in hand, and Aaron can see your own exhaustion is taking over. Something started with that first touch. Your bodies wish only to find comfort near each other.

His breath is warm on your neck while you open the door, his hands softly placed on your waist with the excuse of keeping you steady. When you move to take off your shoes, he is behind you again, as if tied to you with invisible thread, and holds you gently by the elbow when he sees you struggling.

You’re suddenly very aware he is in your house again. Touching you.

“Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head no, but you’re too focused on the way his hand moves languidly up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

He is so caring. So soft below the austere guise.

“I just need to take a shower,” you almost stumble backward and he thinks it’s the alcohol, but it might just be the feeling of his hands on your face, “I must have fifty different people’s sweat on me right now.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”

His voice is soft – tired.

You turn on the lights for him in the living room and he gives a half-smile when you check on him again.

“I won’t be long.”

Once left alone, he gets to look around your house. He sees your carefully assorted nick-knacks and smiles at the framed pictures all over your bookshelves. He can’t help but notice you’ve chosen one, if not the only, photo of the team that he’s also part of.

He is important to you too.

He can see you in every corner of the room, in the books you buy and the realistic-looking-but-admittedly-fake plants sprinkled here and there for a lack of time to take care of any real ones. He can even see you in the soft material of the couch when he sits and lets his cheek touch the fabric. He has been here before in a dream, with your head in his lap.

The room is awfully quiet save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of running water in the background. For a man that’s usually so good at sitting alone with his thoughts, he suddenly can’t stand it.

He knocks gently on the bathroom door and opens it slowly, only to be hit with the dizzying cloud of warm steam. Your head peeks behind the shower curtain and he can tell you got tired of standing and sat in the tub instead.

“Is it okay if I sit in here with you?”

You thought he’d sit on the toilet seat, but he crawls to the edge of the tub and sits on the bathmat with his back to you.

How close is close enough?

Now that he’s ventured, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satisfied.

So, he closes his eyes and rests his head back on the, now warm, porcelain.

“Aaron.”

He doesn’t know if he actually fell asleep, but the water is now turned off and you’re looking at him. He realizes now, for the first time, that you’re naked behind him. Your hair and eyelashes are angelically wet, the sheen of water on your flushed skin is divine. He knows that you’d be warm if he touched you now.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

You smile at him -siren- and your hand grabs a handful of his shirt, staining it with water that reaches his body underneath and makes him shiver. You kiss him with plump wet lips and he reaches for you. His hand entangles in your hair until you’re both practically pulling at each other.

A less enamored man would have broken away just to sneak a peek at your bare skin, but he won’t. He is respectful even now, even like this.

“I should have kissed you the other day. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

It’s a whisper when his mouth leaves yours, but you catch it.

You hum, eyes glossy, “Would've, could've, should’ve.”

What matters is now.

He kisses you again – just one more time. You both feel like giddy, lovesick children.

“Can you hand me my bathrobe?”

The bathrobe is also impossibly soft to the touch and when you emerge clad in it, he thinks he’d like to hold you. The spell of the warm steam is broken outside, however, and being so close to your naked body suddenly becomes very serious.

You let him sit in your bed, still fully clothed, save for his suit jacket, and he closes his eyes again. The comforter underneath is lovely.

Is everything in this house soft?

Is this what it feels like to be loved by you?

You disappear inside the walk-in closet and reappear, now properly dressed in your pajamas. The bed dips when you sit next to him and he turns to you completely.

“I have a T-shirt you can sleep in, don’t know about pants though.”

Please. Just be here, with him.

He watches you leave, but it’s not long before you return with the aforementioned shirt. You laugh when he finally realizes he’ll have to sleep in his boxers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you.”

He throws a teasing look, but can’t possibly come up with a clever answer right now.

“I’ll go dry my hair and you can get dressed, alright?”

You are so gentle with your guidance that it makes him feel like a helpless child, but there’s a hidden relief at that. It’s nice; being cared for like this and there is something to be said about parallels, with you going now to do as you had done a week and a half ago in a Florida hotel and him waiting for you – on your bed.

It’s the same, but it’s different.

He hangs his work clothes carefully on the chair in the corner of your room and goes to sit on the bed, but feels too uncomfortable to climb under the covers. He knows you’d find his duality funny; how he goes from hungrily kissing you to being too embarrassed to join you in bed, even if it’s only for sleep.

You notice his stiffness when you come back in the room, but don’t say anything. It’s not exactly easy for you either, you’re just better at hiding it than he is. You choose to lead by example instead and turn off the lights before reaching for the one on your nightstand and climbing inside your bedding.

He only speaks to deflect attention from him again, “You have a TV in your room.”

“Jealous?”

He turns to look at you and you’re perched up on the plump pillows, smiling at him. Your hand reaches for his own over the comforter and you gently pull him to you.

He comes, of course.

��I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“Of course you don’t.”

He joins you with his back on the pillows and his shoulder touching yours, but he’s still too stiff.

“What do you watch?”

“Mostly reruns of sitcoms-,” he laughs at that, “-Seinfeld.”

“Isn’t that show a thousand years old?

“You would know.”

He laughs again and you can almost make out a wounded pout on his face, but a kiss is enough of a cure. His shoulders relax and he gives in to the warmth and softness; be it the bed or you next to him. You can tell he’s barely managing to stay awake, but he still can’t let go completely. His head slumps backward again.

“Can we turn it on?”

You find the courage to caress his hair, admiring the softness of it and the discreet sprinkle of grey that you can only see up close.

“If you want.”

The quiet humming of the television and your breath in his ear, putting his mind to ease, are enough for him to finally sleep and you’re not long behind. His head is turned to the side where you are, hand tightly holding yours.

Later in the night, when you stir in your sleep, he pulls you further into him – wraps his arm around you completely and doesn’t let go.

next part

[hyuckswoman]

alumnusbf!mark helping you study

pairing: alumnus mark (who’s also your bf) x reader

genre: fluff

summary: you’re stressing over this one subject until your bf appears

“fucking hell” you mutter, your finals were in a week and you were currently studying the subject you have been dreading since the beginning of the study period. Studying for exams was not fun. Especially when you had this gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you that you were 100% going to fail.

markie

hey babe, you busy?

upon hearing the notification, you cursed at yourself as you swore you put your phone on do not disturb to avoid distractions .Yet here you were grabbing it to check the notification. turns out you did put your phone on do not disturb but since your boyfriend (who had to practically beg you to get removed off there texted you) was the origin of the notification, your phone still notified you.

being too lazy to write back, you just decided to call him

“hey, what’s up? I’m studying for my finals right now” you say after greeting him “oh really? I’m sorry to disturb then, how long have you been studying?” your boyfriend mark asks “hours. i literally had a full on mental breakdown studying the course because i suck at it and it feels like no matter how hard I study I just keep on failing” you say sighing “did you cry?” mark asks, maybe he knows you a little too well. “yea” you sigh yet again, it bothered you to see how big of a toll your academics were taking on you

“that’s a good thing then! wait no I don’t mean you crying is a good thing I meant it’s a good thing I’m on my way with food and stuff to give you a break” your boyfriend says making you laugh “mark, look I really truly appreciate it but I also really need to study” you say. honestly seeing how fucked you were because of this one course you couldn’t allow any distractions, and lord knows mark was a pretty big one

“no I know, we’ll just eat and then I’ll help you study. trust when I’ll leave you’ll be back in your academic weapon antics” mark says. after weighing your options (not that you had much of a choice seeing as though he was already on his way) you figured that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. you had the chance of having a boyfriend who already graduated which meant he already passed this course so maybe it’d actually help

“hi babe, i brought food” your boyfriend says, you were glad you had a boyfriend that supported your big backed antics. “i might make you my male wife at this point” you said as he hugged you. you guys then decided to turn on the tv and put a show none of you cared about for the sole purpose of having some background noise.

“okay, we’ve been slacking off for long enough, let’s get to studying now” your boyfriend says. you almost forgot about your finals for a second.

“okay, we’re done making the flash cards, quiz time” mark says quietly laughing upon seeing your face. “every right answer you get, i’ll kiss you” he says finding a way to motivate you as you looked like you were on the verge of dying. “I don’t think it helps, you distract me too much. i’ll probably only remember the kisses and not the actual class material” you reply. As much as it didn’t look like it you were seriously (for once) in the mood to study, you couldn’t let this pretty man distract you no more.

a short while after you were thrown over your desk defeated because what do you mean you only got like half the questions right???

“I don’t understand I’ve spent literal hours trying to memorize this shit I’m sick of it I just want it to be over” you sigh, this is the first time you’ve struggled this much over a school subject. usually being a bit above average doesn’t require you a lot of efforts so you never really tried that hard to pass your classes throughout the years. college beat the shit out of you tho!! you found yourself completely taken aback by the difficulty and you had to learn how to properly study throughout the years. if somebody asked you, you’d say you’ve got studying covered but seeing how this study session was going maybe you didn’t…

“I think you’re getting those wrong because you don’t understand this part” mark says patting your head as you mumble an ‘i know’. being the very considerate boyfriend he is, he then proceeded to explain the entirety of the material, dumbing it down whenever you looked up at him confused or when your eyebrows frowned a little too much. he also was so very patient, explaining the same things to you three different times as you had already forgotten what he said as soon as he moved on to another topic.

the dedication mark put into your academics was just too much for your heart to handle, you loved him so much and the fact he didn’t mind spending his evening studying with you instead of doing literally anything else warmed your heart. that’s why you didn’t have it in you to tell him you were getting gradually sleepier and were fighting your mind to stay awake because how could you when he looked so good concentrated trying to explain to you what you deem as the most incomprehensible subject ever.

“y/n? i feel like I’m losing your attention are you- oh.” mark says finally looking up from your study sheets seeing you asleep on your desk “pft, I didn’t know I was this boring damn” he laughs. since you were already in your pajamas and were in a position where the man could not carry you to bed he decided to gently shake you to wake you up “hm? I’m sorry I fell asleep markie, thank you for studying with me I love you. let me read the cards again to make sure I understand better” you say your voice a bit groggy “what? no go to sleep, nothing you read now will be effective just rest and sleep will take care of the memorizing for you” mark says preparing your bed for you “okay but only if you join me” you say already laying down under your covers “of course dude, let me put the things away and I’ll join you” mark says as he looks over to your half awake self that’s seemingly waiting for him

being in front of your final paper makes you realize even more how lucky you are to have mark in your life because you knew damn well that if the study session never happened you would have been shitting bricks internally crying over how much you don’t understand but now you got out of the final feeling confident you didn’t fail. you ran up to mark who was waiting for you to celebrate final period being over and he couldn’t help but mimic your immense grin as you told him how the final went better than what you had expected and thanked him for his help. He did refute by telling you it was all you and your mind but settled on taking a little bit of credit after you threatened him.

it was kinda crazy how mark made everything easy, every single thing without exception. looking at your boyfriend eating his meal you couldn’t help but smile thinking about how much you loved that man and how lucky you were to have him in your life.

[huevoconfrijoles]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ Guess *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Summary: he wants to guess the color of my underwear

Authors note: I’m so down bad for Joost it’s crazy.

Today was the day I decided to tidy up my room. The closet door barely even closed with all the clothes sprawled on the floor from times in which I swore to myself I would pick them up once I got home. I groaned, looking at the mess I made myself.

I managed to fix and rearrange most of my closet, but not without distractions. I found a bunch of clothes I stole from Joost including shirts and hoodies that were too big for my own body. The scent of his cologne lingered on my nose.

God, I miss him.

Wait, he hasn’t even texted me.

It was getting late, so I showered and got in bed, putting whatever show I came across first on Netflix for background noise. It was another hour before I received a text from Joost.

we just got done

you up? :p

Of course, I was up and he knew it. I can’t sleep without telling him goodnight. I mean I can, but I don't want to

yes im upp

im sleepy tho

I snapped a quick picture in bed showing off the shirt I had clearly stolen from him. A white t-shirt that read ‘I ❤️ Joost Klein’. That man loved himself maybe a bit more than me. I don’t mind.

what are you wearing? 🤨

a shirt lol

just a shirt then?

ofc not 🙄 im wearing stuff under too

i hope it’s another joost klein shirt with joost klein socks. he’s a cool guy.

yeah he’s the bestt

and unfortunately it’s not another joost klein shirt sorry 😔

i don’t know i might need proof

My cheeks started to burn up. He’s not even here next to me, and he knows how to make me flustered.

Fuck it.

I quickly pull off the sheets and roll my top up a bit just so there’s under boob.

see. just 1 joost klein top here.

id rather there be no top involved.

But let’s not say

My heart jumps at the notification.

1 image attachment

joost klein underwear over here

Like I said, that man loved himself more than me at this point.

I'm going to need some of those underwear

I’m sure the ones you have on right now are wayyy better than some loser named joost klein…

i bite the inside of my cheek at the thought of where this conversation is heading.

wouldn’t you like to know

i would.

what color are they?

He’s such a guy, of course he’d want to know

guess

pink

see through?

no idea (i’m a visual learner btw)

I soon got an incoming FaceTime call from a red-cheeked Joost.

“So was I right? ” His face was illuminated, but I could see the tiredness in his eyes mixed with lust.

“Not even close”, I laughed and sat up a bit.

“You’re lying, let me seppe.”

I gently bite the side of my lip while I fulfilled his wish. I lift the oversize shirt that was covering my lower half painfully slowly. So much that Joost groans out of frustration.

“Such a tease” he muttered.

I finally gave him a peek at my black lacy undergarment. The look on his face was pure desperation. He roughly swallows and ruffles his hair.

“I wish I was there with you” he says.

“I know baby” I said, looking into his blue eyes through the screen.

“ Can you touch yourself for me?” he quietly asks, to which I nod and comply.

My hand travels down from my chest to my thighs, my phone in the other tracking my actions.

I could hear his phone shake a bit. He adjusted the position so that his upper torso and lower half of his body were in the frame.

He palms himself through the tight fabric of his boxers. Soft moans escape his mouth every so often as his eyes follow my every move. His gaze never faltering from the screen.

My hand travels down to push the lace fabric to the side. My fingers work in a fast motion against the slickness, dipping in and out occasionally.

Our moans fill the atmosphere in my room. We both come down from our highs and are a panting mess.

“I love you, but now I have to go clean up the mess you made me do” he says, winking at me through the screen.

[skipper1331]

Spider // Alexia Putellas

a/n: inspired by a tik tok I saw, but sadly can’t find anymore!

Early on in your relationship, you learned that Alexia wasn‘t afraid of anything - the complete opposite of you.

It was you who hid in the crook of her neck when you watched horror movies,

it was you who sent her downstairs when you heard some weird noises,

and it was you who had a night light on when she was away.

Seeing Alexia scared or frightened had never been on your agenda as you had tried to scare her multiple times already, her reaction always the same, "I know you‘re there" or "don‘t even try it, mi amor, I heard you"

But the one time you did see her scared was in a way you never expected it to be.

-

You stood in the kitchen as you debated on what to cook tonight.

You weren't the biggest fan of cooking nor the best at it, but since it was an unspoken rule that one night you would cook and the following day Alexia, you naturally stuck to it, especially when you knew that she had training until the evening.

So, as you leaf through the cooking book, you stopped at every recipe you knew Alexia enjoyed, checking if you had the ingredients.

With the music playing softly in the background and your daydreaming, you didn‘t realize that your girlfriend had entered the room. Silently, she walked up behind you, resting her chin on your shoulder while her arms looped around your midsection as she pulled you against her front, "what got you so distracted, mi amor?"

Your body tensed and froze - being frightened before you quickly melted into her embrace.

"I don‘t know what to cook" closing your eyes, you rested your hands over hers.

"What about some simple pasta?" she proposed as she started to press featherlight kisses along your neck, making you melt even further in her touch. In responds you nodded, turning in her grasp, "how was training?" you asked, putting your arms around her neck, the two of you swaying to the music.

Tiredly, she smiled "good but exhausting. I scored some goals"

"Something new" you teased, pinching her cheeks, grinning widely at her expression.

"Stop"

Biting your lip, "Hm? I‘m not doing anything. All I was saying was-"

Leaning in, the Catalonian locked your lips, preventing you from finishing your sentence. Immediately, butterflies erupted in your stomaches while your minds went blank, only focusing on each other.

"If it was always that easy to shut you up, hm?" the girl grumbled jokingly, pulling you back in. Kissing you would always be her favourite activity.

That girl was obsessed with and addicted to you - she could never get enough of you.

She loved kissing you,

she loved hugging and holding you,

she loved talking and listening to you,

she loved protecting and claiming you as hers,

she simply loved you.

After a few kisses, the midfielder excused herself to change into more comfortable clothes when all of sudden a hair-raising, terrifying and horrific scream came from upstairs - Alexia.

"Ale?!" you shouted, grabbing the nearest weapon - a fork.

Running to your bedroom with adrenaline pumping through your body, you prayed that she was alright.

Please let her be okay.

As you threw the door open - ready to fight whatever was behind it - your girlfriend stood on your shared bed, gripping the sleep shirt in her hand and screaming.

"Are you okay?! What‘s wrong?! Are you hurt?! Why are you screaming?!"

Alexia had a look of disgust and fear displayed in her features, "araña!"

At this point, you really should have continued your duolingo strike because you didn‘t understand what she was talking about at all.

"Spider"

She pointed to the wall, her body tense and slightly shaking.

Sighing in relief that it was nothing dramatic, you walked to the wall where she was pointing at, the spider not visible until you were one step in front of it.

"la araña is huge!"

"It‘s tiny" you laughed, shaking your head, putting down your 'weapon' "baby, I thought someone was in here"

"She is!"

"yes but she probably lives here" walking towards the bed, you held out one hand for her to take, leaving your guest alone "she does not pay any bills! She‘s not allowed to live here! Kill it" your girlfriend demanded, crossing her arms yet her eyes not leaving the gigantic monster, "I will not leave this bed until it‘s out of my house"

"Okay" you stated, walking towards the door, intending to get an item that would help you remove the spider.

"Where are you going?!" Alexia‘s voice shrilled, more fear appearing in her eyes.

"Getting a glass" your voice was calm and gentle, not wanting to stress out the footballer even more.

Which didn‘t seem to help.

"Why do you need to drink something now?! Kill the monster!" she panicked, "don‘t leave me alone in here"

"I want to-" you cut yourself off, there was no point in explaining what your plan was as everything seemed to freak out the Barcelona player. So instead of walking out of the bedroom, you walked towards her, offering your hand once again.

She clinged onto you, her legs wrapping tightly around your waist, arms holding you around your neck as she hid in the crook of your neck - something that had never happened before.

Roles were reserved - you were the protector and she was the one to be protected because the 'I’m never scared'- girl was in fact scared and very so.

Gently, you sat her down on the couch, pressing a kiss to her forehead before you got a glass and a piece of paper, heading back to your bedroom. You felt Alexia‘s eyes burning holes into back of your head until you were out of sight.

The tough girl was seriously afraid of a tiny tiny spider, somehow ironic.

When you arrived in the room, you walked towards the spot were the spider was - it wasn‘t there anymore.

Slightly in panic, (not afraid of the missing spider but your girlfriends reaction) you thought about what to do. Telling Alexia was definitely not an option and neither was searching for it. The spider was tiny and compared to your bedroom, it would take hours to find it, so there was only one option left: leaving the spider wherever it was and acting like you removed it.

And even though, you were the worst liar and you hated lying, was this an acceptable lie - after all, it was about her safety and peace of mind.

With a plan in mind, you headed to the bathroom. You knew Alexia would hear the flushing toilet and assume you killed the spider, exactly what you needed - for her to think the spider was gone forever.

All you could do now was to hope and pray that you would eventually find it and not her.

Making your way downstairs, Alexia waited patiently at the edge of the couch, "is it gone?" she asked.

"Yes, baby"

"Gracias amor" she got up, keeping her distance as the items the spider had touched were still in your hands.

She followed you in the kitchen where you threw away the paper, about to put the glass in the dishwasher, "what are you doing?!" the midfielder‘s eyes wide, voice high-pitched, "put the glass in the trash!"

"What? Baby, it’s perfectly fine"

"No no no, this will not stay in my house!"

You admitted defeat as you also threw away the glass. The lady needed her inner peace back.

"Maybe we should get some takeout tonight?" you proposed, taking her hand and walking in the living room.

"Sí, that‘s good"

The midfielder collapsed on top of you, hugging your figure as she pressed soft kisses along your jaw, "my hero" she smiled, finally interlocking your lips, showing her appreciation of protecting her. She purred every inch of love and affection into that kiss, thanking you yet also shutting you up as she knew you had a teasing comment resting on the tip of your tongue.

After puling away to catch some air, it left your mouth anyways, "never scared, hm?" you giggled, her cheeks turning red.

In responds, she just kissed you once again, the spider long forgotten as the touch of your lips made her forget everything in the world.

If the spider had still been there, you would have gotten rid of it to protect your girl and though, the plan had changed, the intention stayed the same, so you happily accepted the thank you and love you were getting at the moment.

next day

"AMOR!"

[babydollmarauders]

TIDAL WAVE — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem! reader

summary: in which Mark’s girlfriend and his best friend have a secret.

warnings: cheating, toxic/unwanted relationship(?), asshole-ish Mark at one point, NSFW!!, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected), choking/breath play, dirty talk, dom!Luke, please let me know if i missed any

notes: takes place at umich. this is less of a pure smut and more of an actual fic that just has smut. inspired by Tidal Wave by Chase Atlantic. (6.6k words)

i never meant for this to happen.

i didn’t go into this wanting to break Mark’s heart.

i was always the one who got cheated on.

i was never the cheater.

but then Luke happened.

he brought out a side of me that i never even thought i had.

Mark pushed us together, really. Luke needed a tutor, and Mark knew i had the highest grade in that class. he practically begged me to tutor his friend; make sure he kept his grade up high enough to continue playing hockey.

so, i said i would help.

Luke and i started meeting up during our free time. we would do our homework together, and i would talk him through the lesson and make sure he understood it all.

we started off with meetings at the library. then we switched to meeting at a diner; where we quickly learned that the new setting did not help in our studies. rather distracting us instead, which lead to less time being spent on homework, and more time spent getting to know each other.

through our diner meetings is where we learned that we had a lot in common. both being the youngest of three siblings, both loving movies and the same music, we became best friends. we lost our filters around each other, our conversations ranging anywhere from hockey to what we liked in bed.

maybe that’s where i should’ve stopped. i should’ve drawn the line when we got so close that we started talking about our nightly activities. me complaining about Mark being too gentle and never seemingly wanting to hook up, and him discussing the girls that he hooked up with at parties, confiding in me that most of them ended up asking him about his brothers after the act.

our meeting location eventually changed again, first to the dining room table at sophomore house, typically backgrounded with Mackie and Dylan playing video games. and finally, to his bedroom, where we had no interruptions. no loud friends playing games, no hustle and bustle of waitresses, no distracting noises from others in a library. it was just us and our textbooks.

but then December seventh happened. Mackie and Dylan had left for their afternoon classes, Mark and Ethan out at theirs, and Luke and i were left with the house to ourselves.

we started out good. we sat on his bed, textbooks and laptops in front of us. then we got off topic.

one second we were discussing the homework, and the next, i was telling him about how i faked an orgasm the night before and i was still frustrated.

i didn’t expect for him to offer to help me. or for him to kiss me. and i certainly didn’t expect to kiss him back, or for it to lead to what it did.

but it happened, and now i’m too deep in. my heart is split between my boyfriend and his best friend.

we kept up our charade the next semester. claiming we were studying together for our current shared class, because we were great at helping each other. but as soon as the house was empty, every wednesday without fail, we found ourselves tangled in his sheets.

we were good at keeping our activities on the down low, for the most part. the guys had noticed that he quit sleeping around, and Luke was partially honest; telling them that he had a regular thing with a girl he really liked, but he was cautious to never drop my name.

i was caught at a crossroads. break up with Mark, my boyfriend of over a year? or put a stop to my activities with Luke, the only guy who’s ever been able to satisfy my desires?

**

“babe, you okay?” i’m struck out of my thoughts, by my boyfriend, his hand coming down on my knee, not exactly rough, but certainly not gentle in his inebriated state.

“hmm?” i hum, turning my head to look at him beside me on the couch. “yeah, i’m fine.”

another Wolverines win meant i was stuck at another team party. top hits blast from the speakers around us, red solo cups in nearly everyone’s hand as they grind against each other.

the sophomore guys are crowded around the couch, playing a round of truth or dare, and i’m nestled up beside Mark, silently observing.

“okay.” Mark brushes off my out-of-character behavior, tuning back into the game.

“Hughesy, truth or dare?” Ethan smirks and Luke rolls his eyes, a crooked smile plastered across his lips.

“truth.” the guys ‘boo’ him, but he lets their disappointment run off his back. “i’m not doing an Eddy dare.”

“fine.” Ethan groans, stopping for a moment to think before his face lights up, and i know he’s about to ask something he desperately wants the answer to. “who’s the mystery girl that’s put an end to your fuckboy ways, Hughesy?”

my body stiffens as Luke’s smile drops, his gaze flickering towards me so fast that no one else would’ve caught it.

“nice try.” he laughs the question off, sticking his middle finger up at his teammate. “i’m not telling you.”

“c’mon bro!” Dylan eggs on, nudging his friends knee.

“we just wanna makes sure she’s good enough for you!” Mark chimes in from his spot next to me, drawing Luke’s attention towards us. he looks straight into my eyes before he faces my boyfriend.

“trust me, you’d think she’s plenty good enough.” he tells him, a smirk drawn on his face. at his next words, i bite my lip so hard, i think i may draw blood. “you’d really like her.”

the guys howl, clapping their teammate on the back as he turns bashful under my gaze. his head drops down, a blush coating his cheeks before he stands up, a sound of disapproval falling over the group.

“i’m just going to get another drink.” he laughs, shaking his head. “anyone need anything?”

a chorus of ‘no’s and ‘i’m good’s come from the guys, and Luke looks at me.

“you need anything, y/n?” i grow small under his stare, shy and meek.

“yeah, i need a refill.” i shake my empty cup and rise to my feet. “but i can get it.”

i turn back to inform Mark that i’ll be right back, but he’s paying no attention to me. already wrapped up in a conversation with Mackie about some video game.

i heave out a sigh, slightly embarrassed, and face forward once more, only to find Luke still waiting for me with pity filled eyes.

we walk together to the empty kitchen, everyone spread out around the rest of the house, only wandering in here to grab another beer and leave.

“you’re playing a dangerous game, Luke.” i speak up as i pour a concoction of sprite and pink whitney into my cup. “he could catch on.”

he shakes his head, chuckling. “they’re too drunk to catch on.”

“regardless,” i sigh, looking over at him as he pours another jack and coke, my hip leaning against the counter. “we have rules for a reason, Luke. you can’t do what you did in there. looking at me before you answer. those vague hints to Mark. it’s like you’re asking for us to get caught.”

“i say fuck the rules.” shrugging, he turns to face me. “let ‘em find out.”

“Lu-”

“you deserve better, y/n.” he cuts me off, and i squeeze my eyes shut at his words. “i mean, he isn’t even paying any attention to you. he rarely ever does.”

“stop-” but he doesn’t.

“you deserve someone who pays attention to you. you deserve someone who knows you. inside and out.” i huff out a chuckle at his innuendo, but tears sting my eyes, threatening to spill over.

“i can’t, Luke. i just— i can’t.” i sniffle. blinking back the tears. “you don’t understand. our parents set us up, they think we’re good for each other. and if i break up with him— if i break up with him, my parents will blame me for ruining their friendship with his parents.”

“is their dream of having their children date and marry so that your families can be intertwined, really more important than your happiness?”

Luke’s hand lays upon mine on the counter. “because i’m sure it’s not. i’m sure they’d understand that you guys just weren’t meant for each other.”

i shake my head, adamant about my answer.

“no, i don’t think they would.” i huff. “our moms have practically planned our wedding from the moment Mark and i were born. you should’ve seen their reaction when we said we’d give a relationship a try. they basically straight out told us that we couldn’t just try, we had to last, because if we don’t, then we fucked up their friendship.”

Luke opens his mouth again to speak, but he’s cut off by Ethan stepping into the kitchen. i pull my hand back from the counter as if someone lit it on fire, stepping back from Luke as though to not seem suspicious.

“hey, y/n, you may wanna go in there. Mark is drunk, and you know what that means.” Ethan grimaces and i nod.

he’s hitting on other girls.

i thank him for telling me as i set my cup down, walking out of the kitchen and sparing a glance back at Luke, who watches me leave.

“c’mon, Marky.” i plaster on a fake smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes as i find my boyfriend. he’s locked in a conversation with a blonde that i’ve seen in one of my classes, pulling out all his best tricks in order to try and charm her. “let’s go up to your room.”

“no thanks, mini. i’m good.” my entire demeanor deflates as i watch him brush me off, but somehow the nickname usage slightly makes up for it.

“Mark, you’re drunk and you’re hitting on other girls, let’s go.” i try and speak with confidence, but my voice fails me; wavering on my last words. the blonde girl cringes, walking away when she realizes that he’s spoken for.

“mini, you’re killing my game.” he groans, finally turning to look at me.

“i’m your girlfriend, the only game you’re supposed to have is with me.” i sigh. “let’s go. you need to sleep off the alcohol.”

he whines, giving in and taking my hand, allowing me to lead him up the stairs and away from the bustling party.

i hate having to intervene when this happens, because i know i’m no better than he is. except i’m actually sleeping with someone else, he’s just trying to.

but our friends would be too suspicious if i didn’t stop him.

“i wish we had just stayed best friends.” he grumbles, not for the first time since we started dating. “dating you is one of the biggest mistakes i’ve made. we were so much better as friends.”

tears spring to my eyes, and unlike ten minutes ago, i let these ones fall.

he’s been doing the same thing— and saying the same words— since a mere month into our relationship, and i desperately wish i could disagree with him.

“trust me, the sentiment is shared.” i whisper to myself as we reach his room.

i push his door open, ushering him inside and watching as he lays down in the bed and lets out a yawn. i follow in behind him, shutting the door before i help him out of his clothes and into pajamas.

laying in the bed, he curls up against me, his head on my stomach as my hand rakes through his hair; lulling him to sleep.

why do things have to be so complicated?

**

i don’t see Luke again until wednesday. each time i’m at the house, he’s nowhere to be found. either in his room, or out with one of the guys.

in all honesty, i wasn’t even sure if we were still on for our ‘study session’ today. but i showed up anyway, loaded down with my backpack and a ton of stress from my morning classes.

“hey, y/n.” Mackie opens the front door, letting me walk in past him. “Luke’s in his room.”

i nod, eyeing him as he walks over and drops down on the couch beside Ethan, resuming their video game.

“don’t you guys have class?” i question, inching my way towards the stairs.

Ethan shakes his head, his eyes never leaving the tv screen. “canceled. professor is sick.”

i nod, bidding them a ‘see you later’ as i make my way up the stairs to Luke’s room.

his door is shut, but i don’t bother knocking, instead barging in as i have many times before. Luke is standing in front of his closet, a towel wrapped around his waist and his wet curls dripping water down his back. he spins around at the sound of his door opening and shutting, but relaxes once he realizes it’s just me.

i scan his body, my gaze lingering on his abs before i halt altogether at his exposed v-line from the low-hanging towel. my bottom lip catches between my teeth and it takes me a second to remember what oxygen is and why i need it.

snapping out of my sexually charged trance when i see his abs flex from his laughter, my eyes snap back up to his face, where a smirk rests.

“would you like me to take the towel off or do you just wanna keep undressing me with your eyes?” he teases, ultimately choosing to forgo a shirt and just grab a pair of sweatpants from one of his drawers.

“why didn’t you tell me Mackie and Ethan are staying home?” i hiss. “i wouldn’t’ve come!”

i rid myself of my backpack, dropping it on his bed as he puts the sweatpants on, hanging up his towel on his closet doorknob.

“precisely.” he winks. “you wouldn’t have come.”

retrieving my textbook and laptop from my bag, i roll my eyes at his double entendre and take a seat criss-cross on the floor at the foot of his bed. he follows suit with his own laptop.

“i’m serious, Luke. i would’ve just went back to my dorm. i don’t actually have any homework until next week and i didn’t plan on doing any today.” i pout, glancing over at him as he takes his seat beside me, so close that my knee brushes against his thigh. “now i have to.”

“i mean, you don’t have to.” he shrugs, his arm snaking around my waist. he uses it to pull me towards him, maneuvering my body so i’m straddling him. “been thinking about you all week, baby.”

“yeah?”

my cheeks flush as he nods, his eyes dark with lust as he leans forward to kiss me. his lips are soft against mine, tasting of toothpaste, which blends perfectly with my peppermint chapstick.

he grabs a handful of my ass, taking advantage of my resulting gasp in order to slip his tongue past my lips.

his fingers play with the hem of my tank top, pulling away to pull the shirt over my head, leaving my chest bare. he slides me off of him, my legs now across his lap, my butt pressed against the side of his thigh.

he dips down to attach his lips to mine again and one of his hands grips my hip, pulling me closer so that my breasts press against his shirtless chest, his other hand sliding up to cup the back of my neck. while both of mine are tangled in his wet hair, slightly tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck.

his lips abandon mine in favor of leaving open mouthed kisses down my jawline, smirking against my skin at the sound of my quiet moans.

“Luke, you gotta stop.” i can barely get the words out, both from the pleasure that wracks my body as his tongue swirls my pulse point, and from the lack of desire to stop.

“hmm why?” he mumbles against my skin, not easing in his attack against my neck, but careful not to leave any marks.

“because the boys are right downstairs.” i remind him. “and no matter how much we’ll want to, we can’t go any further because your bed creaks and they’ll hear it.”

he pulls back to look me in the eyes, his hand sliding around so that it now provides a gentle stable grip on my throat. he uses that touch to slowly lower my body down, simultaneously removing his legs from beneath mine and hovering above me, holding himself up with the hand not currently wrapped around my throat.

“we don’t have to use the bed, baby.” his tone is low and dripping with sex, making me clench my thighs together at the sound.

i suck in a deep gasp as my bare skin touches the cold hardwood floor, my back arching and my chest pressing against his arm, which he uses to push my body down until i lay flat. i can feel my panties dampen at the lust that darkens his eyes when he feels me breathe in against his grip.

he lowers himself down above me, his body pressing grazing lightly between my now spread legs, as his lips attach to my breast, leaving wet kisses at the top of it. his hand slides down from my throat to let him thumb circle my other nipple, and i have to bite down on my lip in order to keep quiet.

“Luke.” i whisper out a moan, and he chuckles against my breast. his tongue kitten licks my nipple before his lips close around it, sucking gently and letting his teeth scrape incredibly lightly against it.

my hips buck up against him, finding friction against his abs, but he pulls away. he sits back on his knees, his fingers coming down to play with the waist band of my skirt, looking down at me in search of my approval. at my nod, his fingers sink into the fabric, pulling both the skirt and my underwear down my legs.

he flings the fabric to the side, neither of us paying attention to where they end up; too wrapped up in each other.

his gaze sinks downward to my glistening cunt, biting his lip as he drags his middle and ring fingers through the wetness. my body twitches as he brushes over my clit, already swollen with arousal. one side of his lips curls upwards into a smirk.

“look at you. such a good girl for me.” i nod my head at his words, attempting to grind down harder onto his fingertips, that have halted on my clit, providing just enough pressure for me to feel it. “so wet already.”

i whimper quietly and Luke fakes a pout, mocking my sound.

“you want me, darling?” he pushes down just a little harder on my clit and i sigh, my legs falling open a little more.

“yes.” i whisper. “yes, please, Luke, ple-.”

my words die off as he slips one finger inside of me, pumping it in and out slowly, and crooking it up to hit my g-spot.

my mouth forms an ‘o’, my eyes rolling back before fluttering shut. his other hand snakes up to provide weight upon my throat, applying just enough pressure to make it a little harder for me to breathe, but not impossible.

i seal my lips, placing a hand over my mouth to keep myself from crying out as he adds a second finger. as he pumps his fingers, he presses the heel of his palm against my clit, and the dual stimulation in addition to the choking has my face going red; my head dizzying.

Luke’s grip leaves my neck, allowing me to breathe a bit easier, and i open my eyes to see him hovering above me. his gaze flickers down to the hand that covers my mouth and i move it, his head dipping to press his lips against mine.

his hand that’s between my legs never eases up, only speeding its pace as he adds a third finger, and i can feel my release edging closer and closer as i begin to grind myself down onto his fingers.

my cries are muffled by his lips, swallowed by him while his tongue pushes against mine. he pulls back, his eyes scanning my face.

“that’s it, darling.” he coos, his nose nudging against mine, my hips still moving against his fingers. “ride my fingers.”

the chuckle he lets out, as i continue to obey his words, is dark. he slides down my body, lowering himself fully now to be laying on his stomach on the floor; his face so close that i can feel his hot breath on my cunt.

his fingers persist in their mission to get me off as he begins flicking his tongue against my clit, and i’m barely able to cover my mouth before i let out a high pitched moan. his lips enclose around the bundle of nerves, sucking and flicking, but never ceasing the motions of his fingers inside of me.

my legs snap shut as my orgasm quickly approaches, but he just uses his free hand to pry them open; hooking his arm under my thigh and holding it open so he can continue his assault between my legs.

“open up, darlin’.” he mutters against me, and the vibrations send me.

my breath catches in my throat, my eyes rolling back, and my toes scrunching as i come around his fingers, my hand dropping down to tangle in his curls, holding him in place as i ride out my orgasm.

my back arches as he sticks his tongue out, letting me grind against it, while his fingers still pump in and out of me, crooking up in a ‘come here’ motion.

i stop moving as i come down from my high, my body falling limp as i pant to catch my breath. Luke sits up, looking into my eyes as he sucks his fingers clean of my cum, humming at the taste.

“you taste so good.” he tells me. leaning over to kiss me, his tongue licks against mine, spreading the taste. “i don’t wanna share you anymore, baby.”

my eyes fall closed at his confession, finding it unfair of him to say when i’m still reeling from my climax.

“Luke,” i sigh, but he kisses me again, cutting me off and refusing to let me deny him of his request.

“he might kick my ass when he finds out, but i’ll take that beating.” he mumbles against my lips. “just let me take care of you. let me love you the way you deserve.”

his words are enticing, and in my fuzzy mind, unable to think clearly, they make sense.

“okay.” my response makes him smile and he eagerly presses a kiss against my lips.

“yeah?” he begins peppering kisses down my throat. “you gonna breakup with him?”

another kiss.

“let me take you out on a date?”

he sucks gently at a spot behind my ear.

“let me love you outside of these four walls?”

i nod, my head tipping back to allow him better access.

“good girl.” he whispers in my ear, his breath against it making me shiver.

his lips find mine again, his body hovering over mine, and i let my hands explore, dragging down over his abs until they reach his sweatpants. i rub his erection through the gray fabric, making him thrust into my hand.

“don’t start something you’re not ready to finish yet, darling.” he mutters, his voice strained from holding back.

“who said i’m not ready?” i ask him, voice sultry as i peer up with innocent eyes. “i’ve had a few minutes to recover.”

his head drops into my neck, groaning lowly as my hand strokes him through his sweatpants.

“you want me to fuck you?” he asks, biting gently at my shoulder. “want me to bury this cock so deep in your pussy?”

“yes.” i gasp, my heart racing and my core throbbing at the thought. “want you to fuck me so good.”

“okay, darling.” he nods in permission and i pull his sweatpants down, letting his erection spring free. he moves away to take them off completely, and i clench around nothing at the sight of him.

he lowers himself between my thighs, gripping the base of his cock and rubbing it over my clit twice before h lines himself up with my entrance. my hips involuntarily jerk, resulting in his tip pushing in, and he takes that sign to finally bury himself inside of me.

he pushes in painfully slow, hissing at the feeling of my walls encompassing him.

“you’re so tight.” he speaks through a clenched jaw, watching my face scrunch in pleasure as he pushes in, stretching me out inch by inch until his full length is inside of me. “you feel like heaven.”

he doesn’t move, letting me adjust to size, kissing me as he does so, but it doesn’t take more than a moment before i’m speaking against his lips.

“please, move.”

at my request, his hips pull back before snapping back in. my hands fly to his back, my nails digging in as he thrusts in and out of me. i cry out against his shoulder, his face dropped down in my neck, and i pray to whatever higher being, that the boys are still downstairs with their video game blasting; drowning out the noise of skin slapping and our sounds of pleasure.

“faster, Luke.” i whine, pressing a kiss to his neck.

he speeds up his strokes, and i choke out a moan at the same time that he grunts, pulling out all the way and then snapping his hips to harshly thrust in.

my nails scratch down his back, surely leaving marks, and he moans quietly at the feeling, pulling his head out of the crook of my neck in order to look at my face. i’m certain that i look like a mess; my face red, my jaw dropped open, and my hair spread across the floor behind me, but i can’t find it in myself to care.

“you’re beautiful.” he mutters, dipping down to kiss me. i bite at his bottom lip, resulting in a loud groan entering my mouth from his.

Luke pulls away, sitting up and gripping my hips as he begins to pound into me. my hips chase his, and one of his hands leaves my body. grabbing a stray pillow from the end of his bed, he lifts my hips, settling the pillow underneath me before lowering me back down on top of it.

the new angle has my eyes squeezing shut, my hands rising to clutch at my breasts in attempt to ground myself from the immense pleasure. i can feel his tip hitting against my g-spot, making me legs begin to shake.

my walls clench around him and i can feel his hips stutter, his thrusts getting sloppier as he chases his high, and in attempt to help me reach my second orgasm, his hand comes down to gently push against my lower stomach.

tears build in my eyes and i stare up at him, finding satisfaction in watching him concentrate. his abs flex as he slightly hovers back over me, just enough so that he can reach my neck, and his hand wraps around it. my heart leaps in my chest in response to the pressure that he applies, cutting off my airflow for a moment before easing up just enough that i can breathe if i really need to.

i can myself getting lightheaded, a result of the stimulation and the lack of oxygen, and his grip slackens, allowing me to gasp in a breath or two before he repeats the process.

my legs shake, my back arching and my pussy clenching around him as i finally reach my peak, coming on his cock. it only takes a few more sloppy thrusts before Luke is freezing, hips stuttering.

“fuck, i’m gonna come.” he moans quietly, and i buck my hips up to fuck onto him, silently letting him know its okay while i’m still catching my breath.

the movement of my hips spurs on his orgasm, his head dropping back as he comes inside of me.

he falls forward, his body collapsing on top of mine. we stay like that for a few moments, catching our breath, before he slips out of me, causing a whine to escape my lips as he rolls onto the floor next to me.

my head lolls to the side, staring at him as he sucks in deep breaths, and in the post-sex haze, i can’t help but grin at the thought of he and i on a real date. my mind wanders, fantasizing about him picking me up from my dorm, flowers in hand, and taking me out to dinner or a movie.

but it all comes crashing down when i register the severity of what we’ve just done.

we had sex, with other people here. people who know my boyfriend. people who granted, may not be the most observant, but i’m sure would still recognize the sound of sex if they heard it.

“shit!” i curse, sitting up and scanning the room for my clothes.

“hey, what— what are you doing?” Luke asks from his spot on the floor, leaning back on his hands, watching as i pull my clothes back on.

“well, first i have to pee.” i start, glancing over at him. “and then, i need to peek downstairs and make sure dumb and dumber didn’t hear anything.”

he opens his mouth to speak but i cut him off. “god, that was so stupid. we could’ve gotten caught.”

his face deflates, his lips downturning in a frown as he nods.

“right.” he grits out, and i stop in my movements, tank top and underwear on, but skirt still in my grasp.

“hey.” i coo, walking over and dropping down his lap, setting my skirt beside us in favor of cupping his face. “it was just risky of us to do, is all. i don’t regret it, and i don’t regret you.”

he peers at me from behind his lashes, his eyes fluttering closed as i press sweet kisses to his cheeks before locking my lips with his.

“okay.” he nods in understanding.

“you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Lukey. i don’t want you to think that i regret anything.” i give him another peck. “i just— i don’t want this getting back to Mark.”

another nod, but then the corners of his lips curl up in a small smile.

“at least not until you break up with him.”

shit. i did say i would do that, didn’t i?

“Luke…” i trail off and his smile drops.

“you’re not gonna do it, are you?” he asks sadly. “it was just an empty, heat of the moment promise.”

“no.” i shake my head, my hands running through the back of his curls. “i’m gonna do it.”

i’m firm in my answer, having had enough of not having him in my arms, publicly.

“i just don’t know how.” i confess. “i’ve never broken up with someone, i’ve always been the one being broken up with. and i have to figure out how to do it without him getting pissed at me, so we can stay friends and hopefully we can break the news to our parents together.”

“you can do it.” Luke encourages, straining his neck to kiss my forehead. “you and your big, smart brain will figure out a way.”

a giggle escapes past my parted lips, and i rise from his lap, finally stepping into my skirt.

“i’ll be right back.” i whisper and he sends me a thumbs up as he pulls his sweatpants back on.

slipping out of the bedroom, i go straight across the hall to the bathroom, doing my business and making sure i don’t look like i just got railed, before i finally tiptoe halfway down the stairs. i peer over the banister, finding Mackie and Ethan still wrapped up in their video game, seemingly oblivious to the actions that happened right above their heads.

thank god.

**

it’s not until sunday that i’m able to get Mark alone at the diner, having needed thursday to think of how to break the news, and friday and saturday being game days, in which Mark is incredibly meticulous about his schedule.

i’m sat in a booth, nursing an orange juice as i wait for my boyfriend to arrive, my head perking up every time the entrance bell rings.

finally, in he walks, a beanie on his head and his university of michigan letterman jacket resting upon his shoulders, slipping his phone in his pocket. he smiles when he sees me, stalking over and dropping into the seat across from me.

“hey, mini.” he grins, leaning over the table to press a kiss to my cheek.

“hi, Marky.” my voice is weak, but i do my best to mask it with a smile.

“what’s wrong?” my brows furrow at his words.

“what? what do you mean?” i question, and his eyes flicker down to my cup.

“you’re drinking orange juice,” he laughs, taking the cup from my grasp to take a sip. “you only drink orange juice when you’re sad.”

he knows me too well.

“Mark-” before i can get into my speech of how this relationship isn’t working for either of us and that we should go back to being just friends, my phone buzzes with a reminder notification and i sigh. “sorry, one sec.”

digging through my tote bag, i pull out my birth control, popping a pill out of the sleeve and swallowing it, washing it down with my juice.

“why do you even take that anyway?” Mark scrunches his nose, and i’m sure i look like a deer in headlights when his eyes meet mine. “we barely even hook up, and i wear protection when we do.”

“birth control has more uses than just… controlling birth.” i remind him. “it helps regulate my periods and ease my cramps and-”

“makes sure Luke doesn’t get you pregnant?” his words are like a slap to the face, shocking me, regardless of the soft tone that he says them in.

“what?” i gape, my eyes wide and my lips parted “i-”

i’m rendered speechless. unsure of what to say. i refuse to deny the claim, because it’s true, and i’m sick of lying. but also not wanting to confirm, in fear of upsetting him.

“it’s alright, mini.” he shrugs. “i found out last month. came home to grab a textbook for my next class and heard you guys going at it.

“i was a bit shocked, but i understood.”

i open my mouth, ready to speak, but he cuts me off.

“he’s good for you. i can see that you guys really like each other, and i can’t blame you. i was a pretty shitty boyfriend, wasn’t i? but, i was an even shittier best friend. i’m the one who convinced you to give us a try. and then, only a month later, when i realized how much better we were before dating, instead of just breaking up with you and facing the consequences, i dragged it out for over a year.

“i kept you in a loveless relationship, just because i was scared of what our parents would say.” he scoffs, shaking his head.

my hand slides over on the table to grasp his. “Mark.”

“but, if you wanna be with Luke, i’m okay with that. i should’ve just ended this when i knew that we weren’t right for each other like that.”

my gentle touch turns sour as i smack his hand lightly, finally getting him to shut up.

“Mark, would you stop?” i sigh. “god, you have me feeling guiltier than i already felt. which is valid, i was a shitty girlfriend too.

“i could’ve broken up with you too. i guess we were both too afraid to hear the ‘you fucked up’ speech from our parents. but instead of just taking the loss, i cheated. and nothing can excuse that. no matter how much you and i knew that we weren’t right for each other, i still slept with Luke while we were together, and i’m so sorry for that, Mark. and i would understand if you were pissed at me and you never wanted to see me again. but i really hope that maybe you can forgive me, and we can just go back to being friends, because i’ve really missed my best friend.”

salty tears coat my cheeks as i sniffle, looking into Mark’s red rimmed and slightly puffy eyes from his own tears.

“i’d really like that.” he nods, giving me a soft smile. “and we can tell our parents together. maybe if we tell them that the break up wasn’t messy and we’re still best friends, it won’t be as bad.”

“oh thank god! i really hope so, because i don’t want us to be on the receiving end of our parents wrath forever.” i respond, making him chuckle. “so… is this like a mutual break up or…?”

“oh no- i dumped you. i definitely dumped you.” he jokes and i abrupt with laughter, a snort leaving my lips which causes him to laugh as well.

*

Mark and i walk back to sophomore house together, his arm draped over my shoulder and tears in our eyes from laughing at our own jokes. and for the first time in a year, i feel immense happiness in his presence.

Mark opens the door when we arrive, allowing me to step through and shed my jacket as he follows behind me, doing the same before his arm wraps back over my shoulder. we turn to find at least half the hockey team piled around the living room, a hockey game playing on the tv and snacks scattered all over the coffee table.

most of them only glance up at our arrival, waving or muttering a ‘hey’, before their sights set back on the screen, but Luke’s gaze settles on us, his eyes unmoving. i can see his face drop at the sight of Mark’s touch on me, and i glance up at Mark to see him already looking down at me with a smile. he nods, giving me his approval, and that’s all it takes.

i shed his arm off of me, stalking over to Luke and standing in front of his spot on the couch. he watches me with wary eyes, his expression stony, until i crawl onto him, my legs on either side of his lap. my hands cup the back of his neck, using my grip to pull his face up to mine.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he whispers, but i ignore him, lowering my lips to his.

his hands squeeze at my hips, his lips moving against mine, and i can hear the other boys in the room whispering a chorus of ‘what the fuck’s and ‘oh my god’s and even Rutgers ‘yo, what the hell did i miss’, but i tune them out.

pulling back, a smile paints across Luke’s lips, his gaze flickering to Mark, who i turn back and see grinning at us.

“i take it it went well?” Luke asks me, his nose nudging against mine as i turn back to face him.

“it went great.” i tell him. “he wasn’t mad. in fact, we facetimed our parents and told them together. they were pretty mad, but generally understanding when we told them that we’re still best friends.”

Luke’s arms wrap around my waist, pulling me closer to him in excitement.

“hey.” Mark calls out, gaining Luke and i’s attention once more. “treat her good.”

i roll my eyes at his warning, but Luke just grins.

“i’ll give her the world.”

[therookieimagines]

Not that he cares..or he does..- Tim Bradford x fem!reader 3/?

Summary: You’ve been living with Tim for a few months now, and after some intense staring contests Tim’s finally ready to admit how he feels, but what happens whenever things take a spicy turn?

Warnings: SMUT AT THE ENNNND, Tim calling you a whore and slut

It had been a good month or two, you were healing great and ready to get back into policing, but with slight changes, you felt like with the feelings that were arising towards Tim after living with him for some time would get in the way of your work, so, you were transferring TOs to Harper until you could become a detective. It wasn’t that you were doing anything inappropriate with each other, you both just, shared a bed, and a room..and a closet..you were basically dating without the dating. Tim had gone back to work about three weeks ago, diving head first right into cases, but not without calling you every hour on the hour, he couldn’t help it, you had been shot, maybe it had healed now but what if something happens? Again? He had to make sure you were safe.

Tim groaned at his desk holding the phone to his ear listening for the third time as he heard your voicemail “this is y/n! Leave a message, unless your Bradford or Nolan, then just text me” he was growing irritated with every passing second. “Harper! I’m leaving to go run a personal errand, I’ll be back in twenty” he said sternly before his desk phone started to ring loudly “hello? Y/n?” He answered quickly, hunched over his desk waiting for your reply “Tim? Why are you calling me like something happened are you okay?” You asked softly, he could hear the sound of dishes clanking faintly in the background “why didn’t you answer? I thought something might’ve happened you know whenever I’m calling from work it’s a-“ you cut him off with a giggle “it’s a check-in, I know, but I was doing dishes and didn’t realize my phone was on the bed, I’m sorry, I’m okay though I swear” you reassured as you finished drying the last plate, trying to stifle your groans in pain as you reached above you to put one of Tim’s thermos’s away “hey hey, what was that? That doesn’t sound okay to me” he asked starting to bite his nails “ya know what no I’m coming home” he decided before you were quick to cut him off “Tim Bradford. Stay on your shift, criminals need you out there to ruin their fun, just like you ruin mine” you teased “I’m cleaning the apartment for us, that way we’re not dealing with any messes tonight” you explained feeling terrible Bradford had to come home and clean up after you the last couple of weeks because of your injury, he never actually minded it though, taking care of you was just like his job as a cop, he knew he was doing good, especially if it meant making sure you were happy and safe. “F-fine but..I’ll be home at 7pm sharp, got it?” You heard his voice say, you could tell he was still uneasy but you knew he’d be quickly distracted with the first call he got.

Tim was truthful on his word, the door unlocked at exactly 7pm, not a second later either, you watched as he immediately dropped his things by the door walking over to you “how’re you? Those noises you made earlier did not sound like stretching you sounded hurt, did you fall or run into something?” He asked worried, placing his hands on your shoulders examining your body “Tim, I’m fine, reaching above my head is still painful but..it’ll be alright, these things heal” you smiled patting his shoulder before sitting down “so, how’d your date go that Lucy set you up on?” You asked curiously, you knew Lucy had her own little scheme going on, you could tell the second she started asking about how you and Tim were handling living with each other. “What?- o-oh I didn’t know..you..knew..” he admitted sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly “she was..nice..definitely not my type though, she wouldn’t stop instagramming her food, like honestly why can’t people just enjoy a meal?” He ranted, you just watched him smiling as he continued on and on as he poured himself a drink “hey why aren’t..you..answering..” Tim trailed off noticing you watching him in awe “why are you watching me, you creep” he teased sitting down in the recliner not far from where you were on the couch.

“Seriously!” He groaned dropping his head “quit staring at me! It’s creepy and weird!” Tim continued setting his drink down walking over eyeing you suspiciously, you couldn’t hide your smile, you knew he wasn’t being serious, but the fact he was trying to be was adorable to you, he was doing his cop tatics on you like he would on a call, his hands firmly holding his regular belt, his glare stern and his eyes slowly clouding to a shade darker. “Ms. L/n, do I need to issue you a ticket for staring an officer of the law down?” He asked squinting his eyes “try it, I’ll take that ticket to court, officer Bradford” you smirked, the giddy smile never leaving your face once though, Tim stayed strong though, fighting every muscle in his body not to smile or laugh. “Unless..you explain yourself on why you’re staring at me?” He offered crossing his arms, all of his known intimidation tactics “you don’t scare me, Bradford!” You laughed leaning back on the couch, only for him to take a step closer “that’s officer Bradford to you” he corrected in a stern tone “oh my gooood! Fine! I was staring because it’s calming to see someone so…brutal and scary become so laid back and relaxed” you explained, Tim scoffed playfully “when have I ever been brutal!?” He asked sitting back down, this time next to you, on the floor “uhm, my first call? They shot at us and whenever you apprehended them I saw you, that body tackle was pretty brutal” you remarked “I did what I was trained in the academy to do!” He defended, you just laughed smiling as he just shook his head at you. “I just mean that..i don’t know” you sighed letting your head fall back “you’re just..comforting to watch” you shrugged looking towards him again, this time he was the one staring, taking in everything that was you.

You both kept taking turns for at least ten minutes before finally Tim broke the silence “alright it’s killing me” he huffed leaning up onto his knee placing a hand on your cheek “over the last year and a half..y/n I’ve loved you more and more everyday” he admitted, you watched him closely nodding your head before he pressed his lips firmly against yours, you weren’t sure if you should kiss him back or pull away, he was still technically your TO. You chose to kiss back though, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he slowly made his way from the floor to the couch next to you “I never realized it until the night you made the backup call..I knew you were different from my other rookies but..not like this” he whispered pulling away from your lips, much to his minds dismay. “Don’t worry, Tim..I..I love you too, even if..you’re a rude asshole sometimes..and I wanna hit you..with a baton..-“ “hey! Where did all of this brutality come from!?” He yelped leaning away from you smiling “I’m just saying! I love you despite all the times you get on my nerves” you laughed leaning closer to him attempting to peck his lips, but he just kept leaning farther and farther back until he fell onto his back on the armrest, you kept moving though, eventually hovering over his body, your hair tickling his nose lightly. “Careful, rookie.” He warned, almost like you were going into dangerous territory, you were confused up until you realized just where your hand was, right above his growing erection, resting at the waistline of his jeans. “Shit sorry” you cursed moving it to hold his hand, you were now riddled with insecurities and embarrassment, why’d you put your hand there? What if he didn’t want things this fast? Were you a whore for moving this fast with him?

Tim could see the nervousness in your eyes, he kissed you once again, squeezing your hand gently before placing it back where it was only this time a few inches lower, you could feel a knot immediately form in your stomach as you felt how big his ‘package’ really was, I mean the police slacks were good to show things off but they could only do so much, so this was a lot bigger than expectations. “You’re alright, no need to apologize” he whispered running his hands through your hair pulling your head closer to his as he pressed his lips closer to yours, using his other hand to pull you basically onto his lap, only your hips were placed on his thighs. “Look at me, are you alright with this?..” he asked raising an eyebrow “we don’t have to, you know that, l/n, I’ll never force you into anything” he reassured, you knew every word he said was the truth, anytime a call was too much for you, he’d always make sure you were okay, never forcing you to do anything you were uncomfortable with (evictions were the worst for you growing up bouncing from house to house). You never answered him though, your mind starting to race again “I-i want to..” you whispered but your brain kept going back to the same topic, the moment he sees your scar he won’t be into you as much. Tim could almost read your face like a book, you wanted to but you were conflicted with something, he studied you, trying to figure out the cause without forcing you to speak, that’s whenever he spotted one of your hands fidgeting with your shirt, pulling and twisting, rolling the fabric between your fingers as you struggled to find the words.

You didn’t need to though, Tim effortlessly lifted you carrying you towards your bedroom before gently laying you on the bed, not wanting to hurt you anymore than you had already been hurt in your life. He pulled off your shirt running his eyes up and down your torso before his eyes landed on the distinct scar on your abdomen, he slowly lowered his head resting his chin on your hip bone “this is what’s bothering you?” He asked, at first you thought he was upset, you were probably being silly right? You shouldn’t be this stuck on a stupid scar. “Hey, I’ve got em too, from my time being deployed..my time serving as an officer..in our line of work those are like our little marks of how long we’ve been working as officers” he explained, your eyes were glued to him, watching as he sighed standing up, pulling his shirt and jeans off of his body “I’ve got them, it’s alright” he whispered slowly crawling onto the bed kissing your stomach all the way up to your lips “I’ve always thought you were beautiful..” he whispered against your lips, his words and kisses slowly became more aggressive, his hands running through your hair as you grinded your pussy against his thigh. “Fucking hell” he grunted gripping a fist full of his comforter, he so badly wanted to fuck you into the bed, show you just how badly he’s wanted to fuck you since the night he gave you a ride home from your friends party. You and your friend were sober but you weren’t dressed like it, he was completely shocked at the time, that someone as modest as you during your shifts would dress in such short shorts and such a tight t-shirt, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, perfectly masking it as annoyance, he was very much hiding that fact he wanted to tell you exactly how he felt right then and there, how much he loved you and wanted you.

You took notice to Tim’s face, he was concentrated on something heavy, something that was turning his knuckles white from the sheets, as you grinded your hips yet another time that’s whenever you felt it, he was harder than he had been that whole night. “Fuck me, Bradford.” You said sternly, using a fistful of his hair to pull him down to eye level “I want you, to fuck me however you want, just, with a condom please” you asked/demanded, you could see something in his eyes flicker, almost like he had been conflicted and then made up his mind. He quickly leaned away from you, ripping your sweatpants open down the thigh, giving him perfect access to press his fingers against your clit playing with it roughly watching as your back arched, all because of him. It was fueling Tim with something he never felt before, watching you do that all over his fingers made him feel powerful and more of a man than ever “oh just wait, baby, you think this is good, just wait” he whispered biting his lip smirking, he slowly lowered his body until he was eye level with your pussy, your thighs twitching with anticipation as he blew lightly over your lace thong. “You were these just for fun..or did you have a plan to seduce an officer tonight?” He asked slowly pulling them off, he had to keep them safe, just incase he wanted to see you in them again, you bit your lip anxiously, not wanting to answer his question in fear of answering wrong and not getting the pleasure you so desperately needed.

Tim growled furrowing his eyebrows landing a harsh slap to your inner thigh, resulting in a light squeal out of you in response “answer me whenever I’m speaking to you.” He growled resting your legs on his shoulder using barely any strength to tug you to the end of the bed, his lips barely ghosting over your bare pussy. “N-no I just h-hadn’t gotten around to laundry y-yet” you whimpered, squealing whenever you felt his warm tongue leave a strip across your clit, he wasn’t finished though, using the tip of his tongue to trace figure eights around your clit. Right as you approached your climax, Tim pulled his mouth away, you whined desperately trying to pull his face back down between your legs, but he quickly grabbed your hands pinning them to the side “ah ah.” He tsked, grabbing handcuffs from his side table using them to keep your hands restrained to the side of you to the bed frame “okay how long has that clasp been there?” You asked never really noticing how quickly the bed you’ve been sleeping on for the past months turned into a sex chamber “did it whenever I first moved in, didn’t mention it to you whenever you moved in because I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable” he explained casually as he placed a condom over himself lining his cock up before pushing into you quickly, it only took a few moments before he bottomed out inside of you, you couldn’t help but let out a moan as you felt his tip brush against your cervix.

Tim groaned loudly, you felt so much tighter than he thought, he couldn’t stop his hips from moving though, desperate to chase the one high, fuck the one person he’s been dying to for the last year “fuck just like that, god damnit your pussy feels great” he growled, lifting your legs over his shoulders giving himself a new angle to fuck you at. You couldn’t process everything happening, you didn’t even know Tim could be this sex experienced, you always marked him off as more of a vanilla dude, but here he was, throat around your neck gently as he slammed his cock into you so hard you knew there’d be bruising tomorrow. “Fuck! Tim please! I’m gonna cum” you begged, his grip on your throat tightened as he halted his thrusts “what the hell did you just call me, rookie?” He growled, ghosting his lips over yours “I-I’m sorry, sir” you whimpered, trying to move your hips in any way that would get you some sort of release, but Tim just held your hips down, using your pussy to his own advantage “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long, fuck it’s better than I’d hoped it would be, holy shit” he panted, you whimpered loudly, desperately pulling your shirt off, screaming out Tim’s name as he latched his lips around one of your nipples, his teeth nibbling and biting as you squirmed under him.

You could barely think straight anymore, you hadn’t ever made yourself feel this much pleasure, no toy, hand, or man ever had you like this before, and Tim made it look so easy, like it was nothing to have you basically mush in his hands. Tim’s grip on the sheets were tightening, he had abandoned holding your neck long ago, not wanting to cause you any bruising above the waist or seriously hurt you, he could feel himself about to cum but he had to hold on, he needed to know how good it feels for you to squeeze around his cock. He could tell you weren’t going to last long either, your moans and whimpers were growing a lot more high pitched and frequent and you were basically dripping onto the bed you were so wet “come on, show me how much you want it, work for it, rookie” he teased, flipping you both over watching as you desperately rode his cock, your nails scraping down his chest as he bucked his hips up to meet yours pulling away. You gasped as his fingers started attacked your clit again, this time the knot in your stomach was too tight, immediately bursting, Tim moaned loudly throwing his head back as he felt you tighten around him, your pussy throbbing desperate to get every last drop from his cock as he came deep inside of you, the condom busting rather quickly. Both of your hips didn’t stop though, Tim’s just got rougher “god damnit your pussy feels so amazing, fuck” he cursed, you felt as he quickly got hard again inside of you, this time you felt every twitch and thrust, you were highly sensitive now and Tim was hungrier now for your second climax. He showed no mercy as he repeatedly pulled out only to push right back into you bottoming out, flipping you onto your stomach so he could lift your hips into the air, fucking you deeper, you swear you could feel his cock poking the inside of your stomach he was so deep, but he just kept going, wrapping his hand around your neck to pull your bare back against him, his lips ghosting over your ear “cum for me, rookie, wanna see that tight pussy squeeze my cock, like the desperate rookie you are” he spat, it just made you hotter, the way he talked down to you always did something to you, the way he had little regard over your feelings sometimes but then would turn around and care so much about you if anything happened.

“Fuck you like that, slut? Like whenever your commanding officer calls you out for the little desperate slut that you are?” He continued pushing your face back down into the pillows, you moaned loudly trying to push your hips back into his, but he continued to fuck you at his pace, only whenever he felt your body tense did he pull out replacing his cock with his mouth, licking up any cum that dare leaked past his lips, your legs twitched trying to close to get his mouth away from your clit but he just held your legs open, continuing to lick any part of your thighs and pussy clean. “Now, I think I deserve some payment for my amazing services” he panted leaning up glancing to his still hard cock back to you “I just wanted to see how good my girl tasted” he whispered, you whimpered sealing your fate as you dropped to your knees taking his cock into your mouth, you already knew you wouldn’t be able to handle the entire thing, so you took it slow, swallowing around him as he slowly bucked his hips into your mouth. It lasted about two minutes before Tim scoffed “may I show you how it’s done, slut?” He asked, you looked up at him through your lashes, nodding, never taking his cock out of your mouth, he grunted grabbing your hair and his cock leading it down your throat “breathe. Don’t stop breathing just breathe throw it” he coached, his tone no longer rough but more of caring, not wanting to see you choke (but secretly a little). As he nearly bottomed out you gagged around him, causing him to stumble slightly, stabilizing himself with your shoulders, he quickly thrusted into your mouth, sending his cock back down the back of your throat, remembering his words you moaned around him, his pace picking up, and his grip on your hair tightening before you felt a warm liquid shoot down your throat and pool in your cheeks as he pulled out, smirking as he slightly ran his tip over your lips leaving a coating of cum for you to lick clean. “Such a good girl” he whispered kneeling down to meet you “let’s get in the shower-“ you cut him off with a tired whine in protest, your legs felt like jelly and you were not about to stand in the shower for 30-45 minutes, no way. “Okay then let’s get in a bath, clean up, and we can watch this new true crime show I found, seems like something you’d be into” he shrugged, you smiled softly, even after calling you a desperate slut, he had already had a movie planned for afterwards “I guess…only if…you leave your shirt off..” you agreed using his hand to help yourself stand, Tim quick to stand to help stabilize you as he walked you to the bathroom “what is up with you and me being shirtless, l/n?” He asked as he helped you sit down next to the tub, allowing him to lean over to turn the water on and plug the drain “I dunno..you’re just..really nice to look at” you smirked giggling, before you knew it you were uncontrollably giggling “now what?” Tim asked, not being able to contain his smile as he watched you lean against the wall for support “I’m sorry! It’s just..we just..had sex!..” you whisper-yelled giggling loudly “seriously!? Are you a child or something!?” He laughed as he helped you into the warm bath, your muscles almost immediately relaxing as he slid in behind you, pulling you back to lean against his chest.

“I love you, y/n..and I know..with our jobs..but we can figure it out..right?” He asked softly, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head, you leaned back resting your cheek on his shoulder “we can..and we will..” you whispered, reassuring him before placing a gentle kiss on his jawline and turning back around to face the faucet, letting Tim start to rinse your hair out.

Part 4 lovelies? Or start getting some one shots out there?

[eunsoek]

MAKING OUT ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

ft seungcheol

Reaching over the console to open your door, Seungcheol greets you with a warm, dimpled smile as you slide into your seat. “Hey,” you lean over to kiss his cheek and pull away, brushing through his newly washed hair. “You don’t have to pick me up every time, you know? I am capable of walking home.” Your boyfriend scoffs playfully, rolling his eyes whilst waiting for you to buckle up.“I know you’re capable and amazing and super smart, but weird people come out at night time! Besides, I like doing stuff for you, it’s my duty.” He shrugs. His words do put a smile on your face, you were definitely not complaining. “Thank you, Cheollie."

The car speakers play out your boyfriend’s latest favourite track, the sounds of the saxophone melted with the soft drumming rain outside. Moments like these with Seungcheol were your favourite, you didn’t get too many, so you cherished them dearly. You and him both loved the extravagance of black-tie dates and private island holidays, but just existing together, with no background noise, no one else, was the best.

Feeling your eyes on him, Seungcheol turns his head, the reflection of the red traffic light illuminating his features, softening his curves yet hardening his sharp edges. He had clearly just come back from working out at the gym. Sensing his gaze on you, he exaggeratedly brushes his hand through his hair, resting his elbow on your shoulder so his bicep was right in your face. “Nice try, Cheol” laughing, you shrug his arm off.

He tries to play innocent, “what? It’s not my fault you keep staring at me, I can’t help having muscles, I just got back from the gym.” Seungcheol leans in, his face coming closer to you, “stop staring at me, babe, or you’ll boost my ego.”

“Oh wow - your ego does not need a boost!” You scoff jokingly, keen to see how far he’ll take this, “or what, are you threatening me?” He laughs softly at your quip, turning away to set the car off at the green light. The track changes, and he drums his fingers on the steering while to the beat. The warmth of Seungcheol’s hand placed on your thigh distracts you, and you fiddle with his fingers in response, twisting at his ring. It's only a few moments later that, distracted, you notice he’s pulled over and the car’s stopped.

“Wha-“ Seungcheol cuts you off, cupping your face with both hands, his round eyes gleaming in the orange glow of the overhead streetlights outside. You thank yourself for being stringent with his self-care routine, his lips are pillowy and soft as they press against yours. The music that never turned off fill your senses, and your boyfriend slides a hand down to hold your neck firm, his thumb rubbing on your skin gently. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you can taste the raspberry chapstick you gifted him earlier.

Seungcheol is as insatiable as he is passionate, and chases your lips when you pull away for air, pushing you further into your seat. His hand comes up placed onto your headrest, caging you in as his scent invades you. His favourite, sweet, musky cologne mixed with a fruity body wash comes to be so addictive. You pull him even closer, as close as you can get, but that’s still not enough.

You squeal in shock as Seungcheol pulls your seat lever, flattening your seat so he could properly kiss you. Laughing at your reaction, and at your tight hands grabbing his arms for safety, he brushes your hair gently away from your face. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” he giggles cutely, teeth cheesing. For how strict and scary he seems to strangers, a part of you wishes others could see him now, for who he really is. For how gentle, and loving, and safe he is. But apart of you wants to keep that for yourself, to treasure the moments of pure Seungcheol. He shifts to lean over you, kissing you again, and you think: you definitely want to keep this moment to yourself.

[mrs-kodzuken]

hard to desire ⨟ kenma k.

chapter eight

bj lips love potions ft princess paparazzi

❝Undress me, caress me

I just want you to fuck me

My love can't take it no more

Gotta cast it on you❞

previous chapter next chapter

Knowing that Kenma left you and didn't even send so much as a text message made you feel a bit queasy in your stomach. You both spent the entire night together, even with a few good days leading up to it, and yet he still went ghost.

To you, it made no sense whatsoever. From the beginning, you both started off on the wrong foot, and now, when you finally felt that everything was getting better, he goes off the grid.

There was a permanent frown on your face and a hurtful feeling in your chest when you came back to the shared apartment that day.

After checking on a few of your neighbors in the apartment complex and verifying that staying in them was safe now, you finally went in.

That stupid gas leak caused a really good night between you and Kenma, and you couldn't help but to let yourself smile as you reminisced about the few hours before.

However, inside the apartment was strange because there was no sound at all. With Kuroo gone with his friends and Kenma nowhere to be found, it felt eerie.

Turning on the living room TV for background noise, a couple lamps as well, and starting on baking a recipe that Kenma had shared with you, you finally felt better about being in here by yourself.

You never really enjoyed the silence, ever; it always seemed deafening and always made you feel a bit anxious and panicky.

When the kitchen timer declared the homemade sweet bread from Kenma's recipe was done, you tried it and wanted to meet the woman herself because it was beyond delicious.

You sighed, stopping your chewing. Being alone was fine, but you hated being alone with no one there to talk to or annoy either. You would've thought that being an only child would have prepared you to not feel this way and learn how to be by yourself, but it never worked.

Deciding to rot on the couch for a little, you grabbed your blankets and pillows with a good show put on, and little did you know, you were slowly drifting off to sleep.

You awoke after a few hours passed by; the TV was long off, having shut down by itself after so much time of inactivity. You felt hot—unbearably hot; the blankets you were cuddled up with earlier had damn near suffocated you.

The cool wetness of your clothes stuck to your legs and lower back.

Oh, how you hated waking up like this after a nap; it was frustrating and left you feeling woozy.

Getting up on wobbly legs, you made it to the kitchen to gulp down a large glass of water, and that's when you noticed the time. 6:00pm shined brightly on the oven timer; sleeping for the whole day wasn't something you expected for today, but it happened.

You eventually found your phone, ignoring every message that wasn't from Kenma or your parents. You groaned, throwing yourself back onto the couch, pushing the blankets down to the other side with your feet.

A dull sleep headache causing you pain, adding onto the fact that Kenma hadn't even sent you one measly text, had made it worse altogether.

Quite frankly, you missed him; you missed him a lot. You swallowed hard, not wanting to dwell too much on those particular feelings because you could tell with the way that your heart started to dully give off throbbing pains.

Deciding to distract yourself by cleaning was always a good choice to help you; it's always helped your mind because you were physically doing tasks.

After cleaning the living room again because of your mess, the kitchen, laundry, and bathroom were all done. However, you got curious yet again about Kenma's room and took your gloves off to push his bedroom door open.

It looks just like how it was last, but with him not home, you could actually look through his room and not feel his beady eyes on you watching your every move.

You got excited; the thrill of snooping through the bedroom of a guy you liked was a bit stirring. You've liked his room from the first time you went in, of course, and even the time before that.

You tip-toed in, having a feeling you might get caught if you don't hear the front door open. You look around, your heart basically in your throat. You loved the feeling of the thrill this gave you.

You first went to Kenma's bedside table; on the top there was a stray hairband, a hairbrush, and tissues, as well as a half-full glass of water. You raised a brow; that was seemingly normal enough; you cheekily smiled mischievously and opened the drawer.

You gasped when you saw a pack of condoms in his bedside drawer.

You hadn't expected Kenma to have those because you figured he didn't have a girlfriend. Your face heated up when you touched the box to move it and look at the other stuff in there. You saw some vitamins, daily supplements, and a few personal items of paper that you weren't going to touch.

Your eyes drifted back to his pack of condoms. Does he have one-night stands or something? The thoughts were endless, but you had to remind yourself that he wasn't your boyfriend, so whatever he did with those condoms was his choice.

With a sharp inhale, you exited his room, making sure you left everything just the way it was before you came in here.

Heading to your room, you decided to read for a little to pass the time. He would have to eventually come home, right? You would wait for him, wanting to confess your feelings; the more you waited, the more the anxiousness bubbled in your stomach.

Thinking about Kenma was easier than trying to anticipate when he would be home.

However, the more you thought about Kenma, the way his warm, larger frame felt against yours last night, and his eyes... oh, how his eyes became glaringly sharp when he’s pissed.

All of that causes the predicament you’re in now, with your hands between your legs, eyes tightened shut, and covers pushed to the end of the bed.

Your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans to no one’s ears in particular; you were home alone after all.

Your heat was throbbing, desperate for more than just the showerhead, more than the pleasure that you can get from your short fingers.

Being cursed with stubby fingers had caused a predicament that you could never reach that good spot inside of yourself, and so you resulted in finishing by playing with your clit.

You never thought that you’d actually be masturbating to the thought of Kenma, then again, you remembered that he did the same way before you both had developed this tension between you. You’d give anything to grind against him, to tease him for the way he’s treated you before.

You were losing it, back arching off your bed; your fingers worked diligently to help you aid in reaching for that orgasm you needed badly.

Kenma, coincidentally, was on his way home at 8:00 p.m. on the dot. After thinking about whether he would ignore this heightened feeling inside of him till he either A) moved out or B) graduated, he knew that he couldn't do that.

Safe to say that Kenma fell for you, and of course he already knew that deep inside but would never, ever admit it for something so dumb and petty that it physically made him cringe at himself.

Hoping to help aid in his apology, he bought you an iced seasonal coffee and a little sweet treat to help you not be in any negative mood towards him.

It was like he felt guilty all over again, thinking back to when he scared the daylights out of you and caused you a horrible nightmare. Only this time, he basically stood you up for an entire day because he wasn't certain about the feelings his heart was telling him, only due to the fact that they clashed with his mind.

Taking a deep breath and preparing for the night, Kenma unlocked the apartment door with his key. However, he was not expecting to hear loud, high-pitched moaning noises coming from your bedroom upstairs.

Kenma froze, the worst-case scenario coming to mind, which was that you were having an intimate moment with another person because you decided that he was waiting too long.

However, the more he waited to hear something to give off any details, there were no beds creaking or slamming against the wall, and there were no other moans/groans besides yours.

He was about to step out and send you a text that he was on his way because maybe that would dull the pink in his face, or maybe it would give him enough time to have his dick go down if he stood outside in the cold.

Before he could even open his phone, he heard a soft meowl of his name from upstairs, from your bedroom upstairs.

The mixture of chills and need rushed down his spine as he set everything down on the living room coffee table. Slowly making his way upstairs, you were unbelievable loud, yet he couldn't stop the feeling of wanting to hear more, wanting to see, wanting to feel.

Kenma tried to be as quiet as possible, the ache in his lower half becoming more of a nuisance by the second. His eyes almost bulged out of his head when he realized your door was halfway opened; no wonder he heard you so clearly.

Every light was off upstairs, with the exception of your pink lamp and TV that was playing a random show. It cast a beautiful glow on your skin as Kenma peeked around the corner of your doorframe; he hoped to God that you couldn't see the way he was being a pervert for you.

His eyes glowed with a need to please you; he watched carefully as your fingers were vigorously working hard to give you pleasure. His brows furrowed when he realized you weren't touching your hole at all.

That in itself made him curious; of course your fingers were wet; they even looked sticky, and Kenma wondered what your slick tasted like.

Kenma couldn't help but stare at you; he's never seen you naked before, and God, you looked fuckable, not to mention alluring with the way your body hypnotized him.

He stalked the way your body moved with every twirl of your fingers around your clit; your eyes were shut tightly, your other hand underneath your shirt, toying with your nipple.

It was an erotic sight, and Kenma could tell from the shallow thrust of his hips against his hand that he was bound to come soon. It was something so little, but watching someone like you in all your glory, he couldn't help himself.

He watched the slight ray of tears that were in your lash line; he wondered how long you've been at this and how long you've been without it. He knew with the way you started thrashing and your hips started to buck that you were going to come soon.

The moans you let out were so angelic, he wanted to break them so badly. With a few more thrusts and hearing his name on your lips once more, Kenma came inside of his pants.

After taking a few moments to catch his breath and collect himself, as well as getting one last peek of you, you looked so precious and worked yourself so hard because of him, and if he just owned up to his feelings, he could've done that for you.

Silently, going back downstairs because it would make too much noise to go into his room and change out of his pants and underwear for clean ones. Kenma decided to pretend he just got home and didn't just come to the sight of you toying with yourself.

With a few loud movements of his keys and the door shutting rather loud, he figured that was enough since your door was open after all.

Kenma tried to make himself seem normal enough, getting a drink out of the fridge and switching the living TV to something more so he would watch. However, ignoring the spurts of cum that were in his pants was a bit hard, as it felt uncomfortable after so long.

After a few more moments, you came downstairs, calling for him, and his body responded delightfully to your voice.

"Kenma? Are you home?" You called, coming down the steps. When you heard the front door shut, you rushed to get up and close your bedroom door and fix yourself as quick as possible.

"Yeah, I'm home." He paused, getting up from the couch.

"I got you a coffee and a muffin." He said, sounding apologetic, and you could only guess that he was apologizing for the ghosting shenanigans of today.

"Thanks, Ken... Where were you, by the way? I haven't seen or heard from you since I left this morning for breakfast. And then you just leave, shoulder-check me, and don't even say sorry." You asked confused, not liking this wishy-washy he was treating you with.

It hurt and made you confused in your own feelings, especially after masturbating to him.

Kenma's eyes glazed over as he was thinking of what to tell you.

“I'm...sorry, Y/n. I didn't know that I bumped into you, and for leaving without saying anything, as well as worrying you." Kenma sighed, not really sure what to say without saying that he likes you a lot.

You felt skeptical about his words, but there would probably be more later; after all, it was just the two of you here.

"It's all fine. I know you probably have things going on, and so I won't pester about it. I'm glad you're back though, I  misunderstood. Your eyes widened when you realized what you were about to tell Kenma—you've never told him that you've missed him before.

Luckily, your stomach grumbled, and that's when you realized that you haven't eaten since the hotel's breakfast this morning.

Kenma cracked a smile, which made your eyes light up at the sight. "Let's order in, okay? How does Mexican sound?" He asked with a smile, making your heart skip a beat.

You nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good." You were grateful for Kenma, not realizing that he always thinks about you. Whether you have eaten or need to eat, your needs when you get scared, and even letting you use him as a safe place when you're feeling that way.

As he ordered for the both of you, you started to feel guilty because he was being so sweet, and you were just upstairs masturbating to him. God, you really were the worst, you thought.

"Can you answer the door? I'm going to go change really quick." Kenma asked of you, a slightly disgusted facial expression showing. You furrowed your brows but nodded anyways. It was no hassle for you.

When the food got to the apartment, you both decided on a movie that wasn't scary nor a child's movie per his request and to which you rolled your eyes.

Settling on a romantic comedy, it was interesting as you both ate the food he ordered. Sitting side by side on the couch with the food on the coffee table, you both were close, and even then, you wanted to be closer to him.

Watching a romantic movie with Kenma left your mind open to roam about confessing to him; you wanted to desperately but was afraid of how it could backfire. Then you got into your head about whether Kenma really even liked you.

You didn't even realize it, but the credits started to roll, declaring the end of the movie, and you finally got the courage.

"Um, I like you!" You blurted out, turning towards Kenma, cheeks-tinged pink, and food left untouched because you were so distracted by your mind.

Kenma took a sharp intake of air and eyed your face. "Are you sure that's not lust?" He raised a brow, and you frowned at him, hearing your confession go unnoticed and deemed as lust.

"No, I like you, Kenma, like romantically and maybe sexually too, but I like you, alright?" You felt frazzled, trying to clarify that you had a bit more than a crush on him and then some.

Kenma's eyes widened like he didn't expect you to flat out tell him that either, "But I was mean to you when we first met, Y/n. Don't tell me you're into that." He trailed off, veering away from you for the effect.

You gasped, the blush coming back from embarrassment. "Kenma, no! My God, if anything, you're the one who's into that. I mean, if you requite my feelings, that is." You asked shyly, not wanting to assume but also wanting to desperately know.

"I do'requite' them; fancy word you got there." He chuckled at you; it made you smile. Knowing that Kenma actually likes you back was exhilarating for everything you both have been through together.

"Wait, so why did you hate me when we first met? I was so nice to you." You questioned, feeling more comfortable with asking him these questions, leaning in more.

He seemed to keep his calm though when you started questioning the reason behind his actions, "Because you're cute, sweet, and girly. I didn't realize I liked that, and you bustlingly about everywhere and adding your touches in the apartment made it feel more like yours too and not just Kuroo and I's. It was hard, I guess." He thought about it more, not realizing that you almost short circuited when he called you cute.

"That... makes more sense now. I was trying to be so nice, and then you were just mean to me. Then I got fed up and started being rude as hell; I hated that." You laughed trailing off, thinking back to when you had that mutual feud going on between you both.

"Yeah, I actually wished I hadn't been like that towards you. I really just wanted to get closer to you but didn't know how and decided to unintentionally belittle you." He grimaced at his own actions, hating the way he treated you.

However, it was refreshing to see this side of Kenma; you loved how open he could be when he wanted to be.

The night trailed on with the both of you confessing the small and big moments throughout the weeks from when you moved in. You found out about how your big nightmare was single-handedly caused by Kenma, except the rainstorm bit.

You listened intently when you realized he was confessing to causing you hurt; you felt like your heart was bursting at the seams because of him. It felt nice inside to finally be able to talk with Kenma about the mishaps between you both and forgive one another.

Yawning, tears pricked your eyes as you covered your mouth. You tried to find a clock to check the time, but your phone must've fallen into the couch.

"It's practically two in the morning. I didn't mean to keep you up so late; you should go sleep, Y/n." Kenma, yet again, was looking out for you, but you never minded though.

"I think I should; I'll help clean up though. I forgot this is your usual, staying up so late, I mean." You mentioned gathering the empty dinner plates and putting them in the dishwasher.

"Mostly yeah, but I'm tired tonight because I barely got any sleep last night." He recalled, scratching underneath his ponytail of his head.

"Oh, right, I forgot about that. I'm sorry," You apologized yet again after you found out you were the reason Kenma had zero sleep last night. He really went all out with his confession, but yet you still had a sense that he was maybe guilty about keeping all of that inside.

As you both headed upstairs, you were quicker than him when he turned off the downstairs lights. You were faced with an option. Now, Kenma wasn't thinking, nor knew, about this so-called option, but you made a choice.

"Ken?" You called from your room, gathering your PJs, because you already assumed what he was going to say.

Followed back was a "Hm?" from Kenma himself.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" You asked, more quietly now, as if you were scared of what he would say.

Kenma paused, and for a good second you thought he was hesitating. "If you're sure."

You smiled all giddy and quickly changed into a large night tee and shorts, as usual. After a speedy night routine, you meet Kenma in his bedroom.

This felt much more intimate than it did in the hotel for some reason. Maybe it was the fact that you both agreed to sleep in the same bed, or maybe that you both know a budding relationship might start, or even that you both have seen each other in such a vulnerable, alluring state already.

Climbing into the silk-sheeted bed, you felt like you were in heaven; not only did you feel like you were going to sleep on clouds, but Kenma even had a heating blanket.

"Oh my God, I love your bed." You commented, happily rolling around in the sheets as he was too busy checking his monitors and turning them off.

"Thanks, it's good for my hair since I dyed it back in high school." He half smiled from what you could see with him turned around. It felt more comfortable being around Kenma like this; it was easy and comfortable.

When Kenma climbed into bed as well, that's when all comfort went out of the window. His larger frame climbed over you so he could lay by the wall, his usual spot when sleeping.

Everything was quiet for a few minutes, and you thought that he may have already fallen asleep, so when you turn over to your side facing away from him and lay on your back, you hear him shuffle.

"So... how was your orgasm?" His voice seemed like it was coming from directly by your ear; your face immediately flushed red, but it was barely seeable since it was dark in his room with the exception of your nightlight.

"... What? What do you mean, Ken?" You tried your best not to stammer and make it as even as possible. You were sure that the front door had opened when you were already done, right? You wracked your brain but couldn't remember because the sleep in your eyes was becoming too much.

"You remember the hotel? I figured you didn't connect the dots because you're a little sleepy, but I didn't get a wink of sleep. You made a confession, did you not?" Kenma's voice sounded different—huskier, filled with a need for something.

You froze until you felt his warm hand snake around the bed to find your waist.

"Yeah, I—um, I made a confession at the hotel..." You closed your eyes, not wanting to deal with the shame of Kenma knowing that you spied on him while he was masturbating—to you after all.

"You're so dirty, you know that, right? Such a dirty girl..." He trailed, massaging your love handle, "But you liked it, right? Is that why I came home to you, pleasuring yourself to the thought of me?" You could hear an ever so slight chuckle underneath his breath. Kenma was toying with you. And you liked it.

"I'm sorry, Kenma. I didn't mean to spy; I just heard, and then went to go see—I'm sorry." You pleaded, not sure what for, until he turned you around, facing towards him.

"Shh, no worries, it's okay, Y/n. Can I kiss you?" Kenma asked, his lidded eyes staring in your wide, needy, dilated ones.

You nodded, not sure what to say other than yes; your heartbeat was practically in your throat as you shook your head yes. He came closer; you felt his breath on your lips before he closed the gap and touched your soft lips with his own.

Kenma parted your lips with his tongue, swiping at the entrance, wanting to explore the inside of your mouth. He's waited for this moment since he first fell for you, and savoring this moment wasn't enough; he needed to conquer.

A rough hand came to the back of your head as he pushed you closer to him, his tongue furthering deeper in your mouth. You couldn't help but to moan out into the kiss, using your nose to breathe instead of breaking it for air.

You could feel the wetness between your legs, and the heat in your core began to stir. Kenma got restless and started to grip your clothes roughly; his breathing was uncontrolled and harsh, like he had been waiting for this his entire life.

Kenma abruptly broke the kiss with you; you whined and fisted at his clothes for more.

"Stop whining, Y/n. I need to know if you want this; you do know what is about to happen between us if you want to continue, right?" His yellow, cat-like eyes stared hard into yours; you could tell Kenma was restraining himself after you worked him up so much.

"I want, I do want this... I just haven't done this before, though, with anyone." You admitted, hoping he didn't think you were lame since he had that jumbo pack of condoms in his dresser drawer.

"I haven't done it either; I just know what I want and can tell what helps you feel pleasured and what doesn't." He coolly said, a hand snaking under your shirt; his eyes glinted when he found out you weren't wearing a bra.

"Ah! But those condoms... in your drawer? I had thought that maybe you have already done this before." You trailed, not meeting his eyes because you just confessed to snooping around in his room without him knowing.

"You little peek." He chided and lightly pinched your nipple, "Those are from Kuroo, a gag gift from my birthday, actually." He smirked and started placing small feather-like kisses on your jaw.

He needed to get you worked up if he wanted to ensure that you were prepped right for him.

"God," he groaned into your neck, "I've wanted you so badly." He couldn't help but to leave little marks as well; from now on, you would be his.

"Me too; I've wanted you so, so badly, Ken." You whined, arching your back as he lifted your shirt and sucked on your nipples, effectively causing your thighs to rub against one another, ensuring that his plan was working.

You have never experienced something like this, and it made your body feel burning hot and your core throb. Kenma, on the other hand, was experienced to a certain extent due to the internet, manga, and having friends that are guys.

Either way, the achingly painful throb of your core demanded to be filled with every lick and slight tug of your nipples that Kenma was doing.

"You really like your nipples to be played with, my little dirty girl, don't you?" His groaned out into your ear, whilst his magic hands kept working their way on your tender breasts.

His hand snaked down to your panties, effectively slipping them off of your legs, the build up from his playing with your nipples was getting to you, making you extremely eager for the next stage. 

“Are you ready for this?” His piercing eyes couldn’t break away from yours as his middle finger slipped inside your wet heat. It was…strange to say the least, a low moan spilling from your mouth when you felt the pleasure of him moving his digit in and out of you.

His long finger was such a pleasuring break from your short, stubby ones.

Soon after Kenma watched your expressions precisely, he added another finger, keeping it simple as he could feel the tightness from even just that. Your face winced until he slowly started thrusting his fingers into your cunt, slightly curling them to prepare you for what will come afterwards.

“You’re being so good for me,” Kenma whispered, never taking his eyes off of the way your body started to join in with the rocking of his hand, your hips becoming in sync with how badly you wanted more.

Soon, your back was already arching off of his bed, the sight beckoned his dick, which was already painfully throbbing and awaiting your warm hole to fill. 

"Ken,” your voice came tumbling out roughly, “Oh God, I can't—I can't, plea—ah! Stop." You cried, the feeling of your usual pleasure was building in your core but this time, Kenma could reach that one singular spot which had you seeing stars.

His hands didn’t stop inside of you, and quite frankly you didn’t want them to stop either. With the way his thumb rubbed over your clit so lightly you were on the brink of an orgasm.

All of a sudden the pleasure failed to rush over your body, your hips jerked forwards, needing the movement that was suddenly stopped to start again. 

"No! Please! Why did you stop, please?" You could feel the orgasm dissipating inside of your abdomen, your cunt clenching his fingers inside of you that wouldn’t move. 

"Don't tell me to stop if you actually don't want me to. Now, tell me youre sorry, you brat." Kenma spat at you, you both didn’t have a safe word yet and so, Kenma had no choice but to follow your instructions and body language, he didn’t want a misunderstanding because you got overwhelmed with the toe curling pleasure. 

Heat of embarrassment rushed to your face but you hoped he couldn’t tell, “I’m,” you sighed hating apologizing when you knew you were in the wrong about this, “I’m sorr-” You were cut off once again when Kenma hovered his hot mouth over your clit, his digits continuing their bruising movements from not that long ago.

Soon, the rushing thrill of almost finishing came over you yet again and this time, Kenma let it happen. Your legs went stiff as your back arched, his tongue rolling over your clit and a high-pitched moan releasing from your throat.

Kenma slowly slid his fingers out of your cunt, tasting them when your eyes were closed. He didn’t want you to see how needy he was for you. With deep breaths and a few feathery light face kisses from Kenma, you opened your eyes. 

He was right in your face, staring at you deeply in emotion, “You did so well, I’m so proud. Do you want to stop?” There were no negative feelings in Kenma if you did want to stop, he assumed you were worn out already. 

“Huh? No, of course not. I want,” You paused, realizing how badly you still wanted to be filled, especially by Kenma. “I want more, please.”

Between the time of Kenma kissing you all over your face, he had taken his pants off. You stared at his cock, the angry red tip swollen with a need to be released. You gulped, eyes starting to become lidded with need just by looking at it. 

Kenma reached for his side table after letting you look at it, almost stopping to groan when his dick touched your warmth.

You couldn’t help but to arch your back as his dick twitched, “Can we…do it without the condom?” You flusteredly asked, hiding your face behind your hands, you were slightly grinding on his unprotected dick by now. 

Kenma raises a brow, skeptical about having his first time raw with you, knows he shouldn't, but when you’re being such a little minx, he just couldn’t disobey your request. 

“Are you ready then, Y/n? I’ll be very slow and listen to you.” Kenma promised, eyeing you as you allowed him to slowly enter inside. It’s a very damn good thing that Kenma had some patience, even though it was slowly deteriorating, because your cunt was so fucking wet and siphoned his cock into it. 

With a harsh gulp, he peered down at you, feeling the miniscule beads of sweat on his skin from the activity at hand. Your eyes were tightly shut and Kenma hated how your first time was painful while he wasn't.

Although, he realized that you were tense instead of relaxed and that effectively made the whole action hurt even worse.

“Y/n,” He choked out before taking a deep breath, “Y/n baby, you have to relax. It won’t hurt as much if you relax.” Kenma urged, for your sake and his, he was going to cream himself if you didn’t stop holding his dick hostage in your cunt like this.

After a slight head nod and no result, Kenma carefully leaned down without entering even more and started pressing light kisses to your tense face.

“C’mon, relax baby,” He mumbled, kissing your closed eyes, helping your body become more pliable instead of stiff. 

“M’sorry,” You quietly apologized to him, in which he denied that.

“It’s your first time, you didn’t know, baby.” He reassured you. 

With a few small words of permission to keep letting him sink into your cunt, Kenma fully, but slowly, sheathed himself inside of you.

The snug pleasure was overwhelming to Kenma, but he couldn't help but to prefer your pleasure over his. He decided to keep his eyes from rolling back, watching you as he very gradually rocked into you, watching his cock disappear into your warm, wet cunt.

His dick felt like it was going to burst any second, the ache in his groins was a hard fight to maintain and not flip you over to fulfill his own pleasure. 

That was until you started rocking your hips back to meet him, silently asking for more. Kenma squinted at you and stopped moving until you started whining at him. 

"Use your words,"  Kenma’s rough, mean voice came out. He wanted to hear you say it, you needed to learn to be clear when speaking to him about something. 

You hesitate, "I want more; it doesn't hurt anymore; it feels really good." You sigh in pleasure, feeling the fullest you’ve ever been because of him. 

A snap of Kenma’s hips clashed you both together, and like clockwise, the delicious noises fell out from your mouth, unable to be contained even by your hand. 

Kenma gripped your waist, entering you at a breaking pace, the tightness of his hands on you hurting in such a painfully good way. His cock pierced your insides and you found yourself meeting each and every one of his thrusts with the same eagerness. 

Not being able to keep his hands off of your body because the squish of your walls were pulling him in further, it felt like you didn’t ever want him to leave.

He leaned over you, trying to desperately attach his mouth to yours, the look of both of your eyes were mirrored with pure lust and attractiveness.

In less than no time, the toe curling sensation of a familiar orgasm rushed over you, trying to claim your body. 

“Ken, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come," you chanted loudly, rolling your hips faster against his, hoping to grind your clit against him. You fisted at the sheets harder when Kenma put your leg over his shoulder and rubbed your clit. 

Your vision became uncanny as white spots filled it when the crashing wave of the second orgasm of the night rushed over you. Kenma did not slow down or even falter for a second when your body started spasming, your cunt seized as Kenma’s moans finally spilled out as he kept going.

You, on the other hand, had accidentally stopped breathing with the overwhelming waves of pleasure hitting your body as if you were under water. The rush came unyielding as Kenma kept going; he noticed, and yet it made him harder and his dick eager to release.

"Haaah, breathe baby, c'mon breathe for me," Kenma urged, not able to stop his thrusts but trying to soothe your spasmodic state by rubbing your face and throat as gently as he could. 

To his relief, a loud, strangled gasping noise came out of you and Kenma realized that you were crying by now. 

God, seeing you like this in pleasure, your face beating red, and tears rolling down your cheeks was the tipping point. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, oh God, I’m gonna—" Kenma desperately wanted to cum inside and fill you to the brim of his seed but knew that it wasn't smart to do, especially since this was the first time you both had sex.

His dick was tightening, becoming ready to spill his seed inside if he wasn’t ready to pull out. 

"In—side," You choked out, the pleasure making you feel light headed and leaving an airy feeling in your body, almost as if your orgasm never ended. Kenma knew better than to listen to you when you're drunk on sex. 

As his thrusts came to an end, they became sharper and more bruising, and on his last thrust, he pulled out quickly, almost missing, and came on your cunt.

His head was thrown back, groaning, as he rubbed his cock all over your pussy like a dog in heat, the last warm spurts coming out of him on you, which left you with a strange feeling.

Once Kenma was able to collect himself, he leaned down to you looking like you were out of it and not even here all the way. He pressed kisses to your forehead, feeling the dampness on your skin.

"Are you okay? Was I too rough?" Kenma worriedly asked, with a weak shake of your head, he got up ass naked, and all you heard was the bathroom sink running before he came back. In his hands were a cup of water and a wet cloth. 

"Let me clean you; I didn't mean to finish all over you down there," Kenma apologized, his ears turning pink as his usual self came back down to earth.

"Mmm, it's okay. I'm sorry for almost pressuring you to finish inside," you said sheepishly, realizing how bad it was and how horrible he would’ve felt afterwards if that did happen.

After Kenma cleaned you up, he put his shirt over your body, pulled you close, and turned on your favorite childhood show. You relaxed into his body, letting his hands roam all over you and massage the weak points of your body.

"I really enjoyed it, Kenma, thank you." You bundled your head down into the blankets, comfortable in the way he played your favorite show and the fact that his bed, obviously, smelt like him. 

"You make it sound like you paid me," he snorted from behind you, "But you’re welcome; now sleep, you're tired," and sure enough, you followed his orders.

Kenma went quiet behind you as he was relishing in the way your body fit against his, the smell of your shampoo, and the fact that you are in his clothes, which all eased his mind to a comfortable slumber.

synopsis: it's the summer before you go to university, and you decide to become roommates with your pen pal that you've known since you were in primary. big problem arises, he's got a roommate, and it just so happens that his roommate either has a sexual want for you or hates your guts – or probably both?

a/n: hihi everyone! second to last chapter ;) i hope you've all enjoyed this so far <3

tag list: @geektastic84 @lavanderdreamve @hhoneyhan @kirikeijii @marsoverthestars @nymphsdomain @justagirlnamedkai @kodzukein @74zix47 @kakuzone @jaeminaur @3lectraheart @ookamiakasuna @22marie16 @jlly1 @aldebrana @kad0o @animechick555

@deftrow allowed me permission to make this/it's their idea from A03!! all i did was create a multi-chapter fic of it :) i made the banner!!

[wren-kitchens]

mumscarian kitties in the winter!

honestly I am remembering so many drabbles I completely forgot I wrote. silver lining ig

“i’m home!” grian calls, stomping his feet on the doormat to kick off the majority of the snow before he steps into the house. 

he sighs as he’s hit with a wall of warm air, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. checking the clock on the wall, he can see that it’s barely past five in the evening, but already it’s pitch black outside.

as grian takes his shoes off and puts them on the radiator to dry, he can’t help noticing the silence in the house. usually his arrival is met with cheers, or bickering, or on one memorable occasion, shouts of panic as grian inadvertently distracted mumbo enough to set fire to a pancake.

but today, there’s nothing.

frowning, grian takes off his coat and scarf and hangs them on the radiator along with his boots, before heading into the living room to investigate the lack of noise. have they gone out as well? surely they’d text him though, right?

it becomes immediately apparent what the silence is caused by when grian pushes the door open gently and peeks in. his chest warms as he sees mumbo and scar, curled up together on the sofa, both fast asleep and completely oblivious to grian’s arrival.

scar is wearing the red jumper grian had leant him a while ago and never got back, with his arms around mumbo, who is laying on scar’s chest and has his nose buried in the woollen fabric. a movie is playing in the background, unseen and unheard by the two sleeping cats. grian’s smile (which he hadn’t realised he’d been wearing) grows even softer as he sees that mumbo’s and scar’s tails are curled together.

unsure of whether to wake them or not, grian opts to make them more comfortable. he takes the fluffy blanket from the armchair (scar’s favourite blanket—he says it’s warmer than all the others. grian doubts him, but who is he to judge) and carefully drapes it across his partners. he turns the tv off, assuming that they wouldn’t be at the right point in the film anyway.

however, despite grian’s best efforts to stay quiet, scar stirs, blinking sleepily up at grian. it seems to take a moment for him to process who he’s looking at, but once he does, his face lights up.

“hm? oh- grian!” he beams, and man, grian is so in love with him. “we missed you.”

grian suddenly realises why scar is wearing his jumper, and why mumbo has his nose pressed against it. 

“you saps.” grian grins, heat rushing to his face. “how long have you had this?” he gestures to the jumper.

“oh, a couple years.” scar says, trying to sound offhand, but his face turns pink, giving him away. “I, uh. it’s for emergencies.”

“emergencies?” grian raises an eyebrow, endeared. “like what?”

“like right now.” scar says. he leans up and kisses grian on the cheek. “because we missed you. it smells like you.” 

grian gives a huff of flustered laughter. “you two are so cute.”

“we know.” scar says smugly. he pats the empty spot of sofa next to him. “sit with us?”

grian looks at the two, curled up together, mumbo still fast asleep. his chest fills with a fuzzy warmth, and he can’t help smiling. “how could I refuse?”

(bonus drabble)

winter is not fun for a cat like scar.

it’s so cold, he thinks that one day he’s going to lose his ears to frostbite; and it’s dark constantly, no matter what time it technically should be; and grian and mumbo delight in making him wear the stupidest sweaters they can find. scar honestly didn’t understand how mumbo and grian could love it so much when they first met, because for scar it was so awful.

but for all his complaining and whining, scar has to admit now that winter is his favourite season.

because yes, it’s cold, but that means he can snuggle up under mountains of blankets with grian and mumbo; and yes, it’s dark, but that means he can spend more of his time napping with his face buried in the soft fur of his partners; and yes, grian and mumbo give him the silliest sweaters ever, but it’s worth the indignity to see the adoring looks on their faces when he comes out wearing their latest abomination.

and yes, all those reasons are to do with mumbo and grian. listen, you can’t blame him—they’re extremely easy to fall in love with. 

[ohmtoff]

you made me think ab nerd nick too damn much its concerning. imagine jerking him off while he yaps ab his geeky stuff, stuttering and his words slurring when you squeeze around his tip

ANON…. youre actually my soulmate how did we think of the same thing (nsfw)

nerdy nick who’s far sighted so he regularly wears his glasses that make his eyes look bigger and just adorable. his wardrobe consists of graphic tees and hoodies that fit him awkwardly and his hair is most of the time disheveled.

nerdy nick whose budget goes to cosplay and comic con because those things are expensiveee and his brothers try their hardest to support him by helping him make the costumes (imagine nick unironically doing the anime hands thing around chris and matt and they try not to cringe LMFAOOOOO).

nerdy nick who yaps soooo much about his interests, from lord of the rings lore to his fav doctor from doctor who. i can just IMAGINE him making video essays complaining ab the new live action avatar series and how it doesnt hold up to the original series.

nerdy nick who’s the same sassy and witty guy as we know but he also puts that energy to defend his fav characters on the internet. best believe he has a stan account. many of his tattoos are dedicated to his comfort characters as well.

nerdy nick whose interests look innocent to others but behind closed doors he regularly reads and writes the most sheet gripping, back arching, toe curling smut about his fav fictional men. erwin from aot, thorin from the hobbit, ALL of jujutsu kaisen. he furiously stroked his dick to the thought of getting fucked dumb by nanami.

nerdy nick who acted normal and talks about regular stuff when he first met you but when he gets comfortable with you he immediately starts yapping. you think he’s just the most adorable thing when his eyes light up when talking about all his interests. you don’t even know what he’s talking about but your attention is hooked. nick, however, was used to people pretending to care about what he’s talking about so he stops himself.

“i’m sorry. ugh, i always talk too much, that was weird and boring”

“no, no, it’s fine. so… uruk-hais are bred between orcs and humans?”

nick wanted to suck your dick right then and there.

having sex with anime playing in the background was not rare between you two. one time, you both were watching an episode when you got distracted by how his tongue was peeking out with concentration. you noticed how fat his tongue was and how red his lips were. those same lips were wrapped around your cock not long after that. nick was gagging and moaning around it, his eyes bubbling up with tears streaming down his flushed cheeks as he jerked you off from the base. saliva would drip from his mouth, running down his chin as he struggled to take everything down. he was still wearing those same glasses, sliding down his nose from the sweat. he looks up at you with those big puppy eyes, tears running down his face. the sight makes you groan and shove your dick further into his throat. you thought he looked absolutely beautiful with cum streaks on his glasses.

nerdy nick who sometimes rambles too much and in these times you love teasing him. “come on, baby, tell me more,” you whispered to the back of his ear as he writhed and thrashed on your chest, pants gone and his swollen cock red and dripping as you squeezed the base. “time- time lords have two hearts, so,” he lets out a pathetic whine, “so the doctor never dies, he—mmnghh—they instead regenerate into a new body-AH-“ you squeeze and dug your thumb into his leaking tip. his chest heaves and he pants like a dog. “fu—uck, please, please, please. i wann- i wanna cum, oh please.” you think he deserves it so you quicken your strokes and let him cum. his mouth releasing unintelligible noises while those beautiful blue eyes go cross eyed.

nerdy nick who becomes your person and who you will go to endless comic cons with, watch a new series with, and who eventually will turn you into an even bigger nerd than he is😩🤞🏼

a/n: i wrote this without pause wtf

[cailinsblog]

"Autumn Leaves and Heartstrings"

Jack hughes x reader

This one is really long

The crisp autumn air was settling over the New Jersey landscape, the trees painting the town in shades of red, orange, and gold. You and Jack Hughes had always loved the fall—when the days became shorter, the evenings grew colder, and every breath you took outside felt fresh and full of possibility. It was the season of your lifelong friendship, the one time of year when you could spend hours together, walking through the colorful streets, sipping on hot drinks, and simply enjoying each other’s company.

You and Jack had known each other for as long as you could remember. Growing up just a few houses apart in your quiet neighborhood, you had spent every autumn jumping into leaf piles, carving pumpkins, and watching Halloween movies. Even now, as you both stood on the brink of adulthood, with Jack thriving in his NHL career and you navigating your own path, that childhood bond had never broken. If anything, it had grown stronger over the years.

But lately, something had changed between you and Jack. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it was there, lingering in the air between you. Maybe it was the way Jack’s smiles seemed softer when he looked at you or how his touches lingered just a little longer than they used to. Maybe it was the way your heart fluttered whenever you saw him now, a feeling that had been creeping up on you since the summer. Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny it anymore: Jack was no longer just your best friend.

He had become something more. You just weren’t sure if he felt the same way.

"Y/N, you coming?" Jack’s voice called out, breaking you from your thoughts.

You blinked and realized you were standing on the porch of Jack’s house, staring out at the falling leaves while Jack, his brothers Luke and Quinn, and a few of their friends were gathering inside for a cozy autumn evening together. Jack was holding the door open, grinning at you with that easy charm that always made your stomach do flips.

"Yeah, sorry! I was just admiring the leaves," you said, stepping inside and shaking off the slight chill from the evening air.

"It’s beautiful out there, isn’t it?" Jack said, handing you a mug of hot apple cider. "Perfect night for some fun."

You took the warm mug gratefully, your fingers brushing against Jack’s as he passed it to you. A spark shot through you, and you quickly looked down, hoping he didn’t notice the flush creeping up your neck.

"Thanks," you murmured, taking a sip and letting the sweet, spiced cider soothe your nerves.

Luke and Quinn were already lounging on the couch, arguing over some old Halloween movie they wanted to watch. You laughed at their banter, settling into the familiar rhythm of being with the Hughes brothers. It always felt like home with them, especially Jack. But tonight, that feeling was tinged with something deeper, something you weren’t ready to admit out loud.

As the evening went on, the group sat around in the cozy living room, playing card games, laughing over silly stories, and reminiscing about your childhood. The house smelled like cinnamon and apples, and the fire crackled softly in the background. It was the perfect fall night.

"Hey, Y/N," Jack said suddenly, nudging you with his elbow as everyone else got distracted with their conversation. "Wanna go for a walk? Just like old times?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you nodded, trying to keep your cool. "Sure, I’d love that."

He grabbed his jacket, and the two of you slipped out of the house, leaving the warmth and noise behind. Outside, the cool autumn breeze rustled the leaves around you as you walked side by side down the quiet streets, just like you had done countless times before. But this time, it felt different.

There was a comfortable silence between you, broken only by the crunch of leaves underfoot. Jack kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. You could feel your own nerves buzzing, the unspoken tension building with every step.

"Remember when we used to come out here after school?" Jack finally said, his voice soft.

You smiled at the memory. "Yeah, we’d race to the park, and you’d always let me win."

Jack laughed, shaking his head. "That’s because I didn’t want to deal with you pouting when you lost."

"I did not pout!" you protested, giving him a playful shove.

"You totally did," he teased, catching your hand before you could push him again. His hand was warm against yours, and suddenly, the playfulness between you faded into something more serious.

You stopped walking, your hand still in his, and turned to face him. Jack’s expression had softened, his blue eyes locking with yours in a way that made your heart race. The cool air around you seemed to disappear as warmth spread through your chest, a warmth that had nothing to do with the cider or the fire back at the house.

"Y/N…" Jack began, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a step closer, and suddenly you were hyper-aware of how close he was, how his thumb brushed lightly against your hand, how his gaze had dropped to your lips.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You had wanted this for so long, but now that it was happening, you were terrified.

"What is it, Jack?" you asked softly, your voice trembling.

"I…" He hesitated, his brow furrowing as he struggled to find the right words. "I don’t want to mess this up, Y/N."

You frowned, confused. "Mess what up?"

"Us." He let out a shaky breath, his grip tightening on your hand. "I know we’ve been best friends forever, but…I think I’m in love with you. I’ve been feeling this way for a while now, but I didn’t want to ruin what we have. You mean too much to me."

Your heart stopped for a moment, the words sinking in. He loved you. Jack Hughes, your best friend, loved you.

"I…Jack, I—" you started, but he quickly cut you off, his expression suddenly anxious.

"It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way," he rushed out. "I just couldn’t keep it in anymore. I’ve been driving myself crazy thinking about it."

You stared at him, your mind racing. All the years of friendship, all the moments that had led up to this one—they suddenly made sense. The butterflies you felt around him, the way your heart would leap whenever he smiled at you, the warmth that filled you whenever he was near. You had been in love with him for just as long, but you had been too scared to admit it.

"Jack," you said softly, stepping even closer to him, "I feel the same way."

His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he just stared at you in disbelief. "You do?"

You nodded, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "I’ve been falling for you for a while now, but I didn’t want to risk losing you as a friend. I was scared too."

Jack’s face lit up with relief and joy, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was both tender and full of passion. The world seemed to disappear around you, and all you could feel was the warmth of Jack’s embrace, the softness of his lips, and the overwhelming love that had been building between you for so long.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Jack rested his forehead against yours, his arms still wrapped tightly around you.

"I can’t believe this is real," he murmured, his eyes filled with wonder. "I’ve wanted this for so long."

"Me too," you whispered, your heart swelling with happiness.

You stood there for a moment, holding each other under the soft glow of the streetlights, the cool autumn breeze swirling around you. Everything felt perfect.

As you made your way back to the house, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something beautiful. Jack’s brothers, Luke and Quinn, teased you both mercilessly when you walked in, but Jack didn’t care. He just smiled and pulled you closer, ignoring their jokes.

"About time," Luke said with a grin, nudging Quinn.

"Yeah, we’ve been waiting for this forever," Quinn added, smirking at Jack.

Jack rolled his eyes but didn’t let go of your hand. "Laugh it up, guys. I don’t care."

You laughed along with them, feeling light and free. This was the start of a new chapter, one filled with love, laughter, and the warmth of Jack’s heart.

And as you settled in for the rest of the night, surrounded by Jack and his family, you knew that this fall would be the most unforgettable one yet.

[abigailywrites]

bargain. [din djarin x reader]

part two of indebted.

ao3 / ko-fi rating: t word count: 2.8k warnings: none

Karga gives you a break from secretary work the next day, apparently realizing that yesterday’s workload was too much for a beginner. He sends you to pick up groceries instead, shoving a handful of credits into your hand and telling you to “buy whatever you know how to cook.” Then he returns to work which seems as bad as it did yesterday.

There’s something about the liberty that the Nevarro marketplace affords you that puts a spring in your step. It’s hot and crowded and people are shouting from every direction for every reason. It’s loud, and you hate the noise. But you’re effectively by yourself. No one is lording over you. You’ve got a handful of credits to spend on whatever you like. If this was your job every day, you could get used to it. Twenty years wouldn’t be so bad.

But it would still be twenty years.

Maker, you need to figure out how to convince Mando to take another puck. Just one more. If he’s as good a hunter as Karga makes him out to be, how much would it hurt? But you sincerely doubt you’ll be able to convince him by asking “why not.” There’s little else you can use to convince him, as the man at the bar made abundantly clear yesterday. Not that you would necessarily offer that. You’re going to have to pray that, when the moment comes, you’ll know what to do.

It’s little more than a half-hour later when that prayer is put to the test. At an intersection of streets, the glint of the sun off a beskar helmet catches your eye, and you see Mando march across the marketplace with a satchel slung over his shoulder. You’re chasing after him before you know what you’re doing. Your head is swimming again, this time with the idea of a year of freedom you wouldn’t otherwise have. 

You can’t run; the streets are too crowded for that, and Mando wouldn’t respond well to that, anyway. Besides, the idea of approaching him and immediately engaging in a conversation is making your step falter as you get closer and closer. 

He’s bartering with a vendor in a language you don’t understand, and you just hover in the background, trying to map out your plan, pretending to be involved in your surroundings. Every step you take closer to him is more time you have to remind your heart to keep beating. Maker, you've never been so disoriented before, and it scares you to death. 

Still, you persist. When he moves to a different stall, you move too, giving him space to get ahead first. You're still racking your brain for what the hell you say to whatever the hell a Mandalorian is. If you knew anything about him at all, this might be easier. Maybe you should just observe for now.

He goes under a tent that takes up three stall spaces, and you follow him there a few moments later. It’s an artisan’s tent; shards of stained glass in every shape you can think of hang from the posts of the tent, shining in the sunlight and casting rainbows of color onto the dusty ground below. It’s the most color you’ve seen in years, and it nearly distracts you from your task. 

There’s a mobile with shards of deep blues and purples in abstract shapes lined with silver along the edges that catches your eye. You haven’t seen anything quite so vivid in years. Almost without thinking about it, you reach for it. Your fingertips barely brush against the smooth surface— 

“Are you done following me?” a voice from behind you asks.

Mando’s sudden attention hits you like a punch in the stomach, and you drop your hand to the side. He’s no more than a couple of feet behind you, and you hadn’t even noticed he moved at all. You suppose you should’ve known better than to try following a bounty hunter without being noticed. “I—” you start, as you spin around.  “I wanted to apologize. For yesterday, I mean…”

Mando doesn’t shift an inch. “It was Karga’s fault. He should know better.”

Great start. "He wasn’t trying to be rude,” you tell him. You’re still aiming for an apologetic tone, but it comes out defensive. You need to rethink your strategy. What you need is a lie. Well, no, not a lie exactly. Just a different way to frame the truth.  “I wasn’t even supposed to meet you at all, but I pestered him about it. It was all my fault. If there’s any way I can make it up to you…?”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he says. “Tell Karga that if he thinks sending his errand girl to—” 

“Karga didn’t send me,” you interrupt him without thinking, and in the silence that follows, you realize that may have been a mistake. He’s staring at you, helmet tilted to the side. All you can do is take the fact that he hasn’t turned to walk the other way as a prompt to elaborate. “That is, he didn't tell me to talk to you. Opposite, in fact.”

“If Karga didn’t send you,” he starts, “why are you here defending him?”

“Well, I— I’m trying to be a good employee,” you stammer. “I just want to do my job.”

“Never met someone so invested in working for Karga. It’s always something else. I’m not interested,” he points out, and that seems to be the end of the conversation for him. He brushes past you out of the tent without another word, leaving you standing dumbstruck.

By the time you turn to follow him, he’s so far ahead of you that you have to jog to catch up, and he’s certainly not slowing down at all. “Well, isn’t there anything I could do to make you interested?” you insist. You're not even going to attempt feigning pure intentions.

“Are you gonna follow me around all day?”

“If it comes to it,” you answer. “Would you hear me out?”

“No.”

You roll your eyes but keep following. "You don't even know what I'm asking!"

"Don't need to."

“It would help us both,” you promise.

“I said no.”

That's three times he's said no, now. It won't help to become even more of a nuisance, but you can't give up. “You don’t understand. I’m talking about a year of my lif—”

Mando’s arm shoots out suddenly and grips the arm on your far side, stopping you in your tracks just as a heavy-duty transport drives a little too close on the path in front of you. If he hadn’t done anything, you absolutely would’ve walked right out in front of it.

He doesn’t release your arm until the transport is well out of the way of your path. When he does, he turns to look at you. “Go back to Karga. You’re gonna get hurt out here.”

“I can’t—”

He grabs both of your shoulders and turns you around back in the direction of the cantina. “Go,” he tells you, and his hands leave your shoulders.

It’s not worth another shot, you decide. As far as Mando is concerned, the conversation ended before it even started. By the time you turn back around, he’s disappeared into the crowds.

That evening, you cook dinner for yourself and Karga with the groceries you picked up. The usually relaxing process of cutting and steaming does nothing to ease your disappointment in your colossal failure. Maker, you were so stupid just approaching Mando like that. You know nothing about him at all. If you had waited, you could’ve figured out things about him and his culture that could have helped you influence his mind. But you had to take the mudhorn by the horn. Had to do things your way as soon as you got the chance. Had to get drunk on the little bit of freedom you were given and abuse it. You want to kick yourself. 

When Karga returns to the house, he’s even more tired than he was yesterday. “I can’t give you a break tomorrow,” he tells you. “I need to keep training you to take over the records. It’s getting to be too much for me to handle by myself.”

You nod your understanding and have dinner in silence. Sleep comes to you in hazy, broken patches that night.

Once again, it’s an early morning at the cantina, and most of it is spent training. Record-keeping is an even more harrowing job than Karga prepared you for in the weeks before he brought you to Nevarro. Even making entries in the transaction ledger makes your head spin.

Karga lets you practice it a few times, but you think he gets some kind of sick amusement out of watching you struggle with all the fucking numbers. Just when you think you’re about to rain curses on the sick freak that invented math, Karga takes the holopad out of your hands.

“Alright,” he says. “Let’s take a break.”

You slam your head down on the table. “Thank you,” you mutter. “Today is a bitch.”

“It’s only ten o’clock,” Karga tells you.

“She’s a bitch,” you insist.

“You’re just being irritable,” Karga counters. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

You lift your head and pinch the bridge of your nose. “You would be too. First the whole thing with the expired bounty a couple of days ago, then the thing with Mando yesterday, now this—”

Karga holds up his hand. “Hold on, hold on,” he says. “What about Mando? What happened?”

You hesitate, unsure how much you’re willing to say. More and more, you’re realizing that you have tested the limits of what Karga said you could do. “Nothing, I just…”

When you’re silent for too long, Karga leans in. “You just what? What did you do?”

It’s at that moment that the door slides open, and the Mandalorian walks in as he did a couple of days ago.

Karga sits up straight. “Mando!” he says as the Mandalorian approaches. “Didn’t expect to see you back so soon. I assume this means you’ve made up your mind?”

He doesn’t answer, but he takes the seat across from the booth. 

Karga turns to you. “Go wait outside—”

“No,” Mando interrupts. “She stays.” 

He doesn’t elaborate on this sudden change of attitude, but Karga glances at you and seems to come to a realization. What that realization is, you have no idea, but there’s a definite new, conniving spark behind his eyes. 

“Right,” Karga agrees, his voice noticeably controlled. He rises slowly. “Give me a moment. I need a drink. Open up Mando’s profile and the available bounties on the holopad while I’m gone.”

No, wait, what? All you’ve been trained to do is take transaction notes. There’s no way in hell you’re going to be able to follow all of these new instructions. Especially when the Mandalorian is sitting across from you, staring you down. Nevertheless, you swallow your objections and nod while Karga walks away.

Deep breath. “Okay,” you mutter to yourself, getting only as far as you know how to. You come to a roadblock way sooner than you hoped.

“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

After the long silence, the question catches you off-guard so much so that you wouldn’t even dream of being dishonest. “Not really,” you admit. “But I can manage until Karga comes back.”

Mando lets go of a deep sigh and reaches his hand out across the table. After a moment’s hesitation, you give him the holopad. He accesses his profile in less than a minute and hands it back to you.

“How do you know how to do that?” you ask him.

“I’m observant,” he answers.

You look down at his profile. Most of his personal information is redacted. There’s no given name. No physical description beyond “beskar helmet.” What little information is available to you is mostly transactions and statistics about his performance as a hunter. No wonder Karga agreed to five percent. There was no way in hell you were gonna be able to find anything out, to begin with. 

“Well,” you say after clearing your throat. “I guess I’m not as observant as that.”

“Apparently,” Mando says. Is that irony in his voice? “You almost got yourself killed crossing the street.” Okay… irony.

Something like dread swirls in your stomach. “Right,” you say, looking up at him. “If you could keep that between you and me, I would appreciate it. Karga doesn’t have to know about that… that whole encounter.”

“How many favors do you want from me?”

He’s playing with you, now. You might not be able to see his face, but you can sense that much. “Please?” you ask him, your voice somewhere between desperate and irritated. 

“Karga doesn’t have to know,” Mando agrees. “As long as you tell me what you meant when you said it’s a year of your life.”

Is that it? Is that the entire reason you’re here now instead of waiting outside while he and Karga talk business? You furrow your brows and shrug. “I had a deal with Karga, that’s all,” you answer him. “If I could convince you to take more than two pucks, he’d take five percent off of the debt I owe him. It would usually take a year to pay back five percent.”

“That’s a twenty-year debt. What did you do to owe Karga so much?”

“I didn’t do anything,” you answer. “I inherited my debt from my grandfather, and Karga bought it a couple of weeks ago from my former employer. I’m honor-bound to pay it back no matter who I owe it to.”

“So, you’re a slave.”

Your jaw clenches at the statement. “I’m an indentured servant,” you correct him. “There’s a difference.”

“What’s your job again?”

“To do what Karga tells me.”

“And you get paid for that?”

“Well… no.”

Mando goes quiet again and tilts his helmet to the side as if he’s trying to make a point.

You let out a huff. “That’s not the point,” you say. “The point is that I was supposed to get you to take another puck. Just one more.”

“I don’t take more than two.”

You blink once. “Hence… the challenge.”

“What was your strategy?”

You take a deep breath and let it out on a hiss. “Didn’t have one, really. I figured I’d try a bunch of different angles until something stuck. Unfortunately, you didn’t let me try any of the angles.”

He just stares at you. If he’s taken aback by your honesty, he doesn’t say so. You, however, are shocked by the sound of your own voice saying nothing but the truth. It’s not really as much a choice as it is something that he seems to draw out of you.

It’s as you open your mouth to say something (anything to fill the silence) that Karga calls your name. You rip your eyes away from Mando as he approaches the table, drink in hand. “Go back to the house and get lunch started, would you? I’ve had enough of cantina food for a week.”

The last thing you expected was for Karga to say something so contrary to Mando’s instructions. But Mando doesn’t say anything, and you can tell that Karga has some kind of purpose he’s not telling you about. So with an obedient nod, you stand and leave the cantina. Once again, the Mandalorian’s gaze follows you out.  

When Karga returns to the house that evening, he calls you to the main living room. “What did you say to Mando while I was gone?”

The question takes you aback. “Um, I don’t know,” you say. “I just answered his questions.”

Karga raises his brows. “Oh, is that all?” he asks. “What questions?”

You shake your head and shrug. “Just about who I am and why I’m working for you. It was like a job interview. Nothing happened.”

Karga lets out a sound somewhere between a sputter and a laugh. “Well, whatever arrangement you’ve got going on, keep it up.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell Karga. “There’s no arrangement. As far as I know, as soon as I left, he took his two pucks, and left.”

Karga stares at you a moment. “He didn’t take two pucks,” he says finally “He took four.”

Four? Where the hell did that come from? What did you say to convince him to take double his usual count?

“You really didn’t know, did you?” Karga questions, seeming to finally come to the realization.

“No, I didn’t...” you answer. When you can finally clear your head of white noise for a moment, you look up to see Karga looking at you thoughtfully. “What?”

“Nothing,” Karga says. “I’m just thinking you might be even better for business than I thought.”

[fillinforlater]

Just Testing continues...

(READ THIS FOR CONTEXT LOLOLOL)

He looks like an addict who got another dose injected right into his veins. His hair is wild and all over the place, his eyes unfocused and euphoric, his movements uncoordinated and—he is gone. You follow him quickly, leaving two girls complaining and one in the mannequin-like state from before. Their voices become background noise and then an afterthought when you find yourself in the wide hallway from before.

“You better have something interesting,” you snark when the director excitedly points at the same room you fucked Tiffany’s face in. “You just pulled me out of heaven, this better be good.”

“Well, you might need a towel for this one,” the co-host jokes. 

You enter the room confused at those words. There is no water in it, but what looks like a thick salmon-colored blanket rolled out from one end of the room to the other. You wonder what it might feel like to fuck on this fluffy feather-filled futon, when an unexpected shove on your back reminds you that this is what you are here for.

“What the fuck?” you shout once, then twice on impact. It’s not a futon, more a waterbed filled with something similar to water but definitely not water. Stiff and less comfortable to what you were looking for. This was not in the script. 

“It’s filled with lube,” another familiar girl says. “See?” 

She slams down the pointy end of her heels dangerously close to your crotch and watches the clear, slightly viscous liquid spill out of it. Before you can react to the surprisingly warm lube hitting your skin, she starts to pounce on you, soft fingers not-so-softly wrapped around your throat.

“Yu-Yuri, what the he—st-op that!”

“Make me.”

Like so many girls today, Yuri squats down. However, she is the first to press her clothed pussy onto your cock while boring more holes for lube to spill and shoot out. The more pressure she puts on you, the wetter the surface becomes. 

Your first attempts at freeing yourself are futile, everything is slippery, nothing gives you the stability to get upright. Especially Yuri’s arm, thighs and high boots make your fingers slip again and again while she goes in again and again to attack your chest and shoulder with nibbles and quick bites.

“F-fuck you, you bitch!”

Finally, you get a hold of something. Your hands slip into the openings of Yuri’s white, now see-through bodysuit and with all your might you yank her to the side. More and more lube swells out and now Yuri has trouble getting up. Her heels get stuck in another set of holes and you finally have the upper hand, pinning her back down into the wet mess. 

"You think you got me, huh?" Yuri barks at you, realizing that it's her turn now to lose grip on oily skin. 

"Oh no, I guarantee I got ya."

Spin Yuri round and around in the puddle below her lilith frame, find that her shorts have a conveniently placed zipper on their backside. Open up, press her down, until enough lube has come out to cover her small ass. Inserting will be the easiest part, it's a lot harder to keep the brat down, especially when she suddenly starts swimming in the viscous lake.

“Oh-oh my God, i-it’s so big,” Yuri screams out, clenching around your unstoppable member creeping deeper into her anal cavity. A variety of wet sounds soon fill the microphones and the headphones of horny consumers, who’d love to see more of Yuri’s small, yet perfect bottom. Sadly, she still wears those damn white shorts. At least those with a thing for heels will have the time of their lives. 

“Stop being such a bitch, Yuri,” you groan into her ear, her body firmly trapped beneath you. In the meantime, your hands attempt the impossible task of controlling her slick hair or slicker hands. “If you behave, I’ll make you cum.”

“Y-you can never make me cum!”

“I bet you are already so clo—hey!”

In a moment of pride and distraction by the insanely pleasurable way her asshole narrows and widens, Yuri is able to crawl forward, out of the pit of lube and sweat, onto a flat part of the excessively large waterbed. She did not make it very far, so you reach for her shorts and try to pull her back. However, in an unforeseen twist that will leave everyone satisfied, the shorts come off, slide down Yuri’s legs and get tangled up with her high boots. Yuri tries to escape further, but you basically have her on a leash and easily pull her back into her cage—the pit beneath your body.

“Okay, okay, I give up, don’t hurt me please” Yuri begs and looks at you with wide open eyes. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

“Then be a good girl and scream and cream while Daddy fucks your tight little ass-pussy.”

Woah, where did that come from? Not in the script, but now it’s too late to take it back. Better follow it up with something distracting, no one will notice if you’re playing it cool now. How can they forget about your misuse of the parental replacement word, when Yuri follows your command without fail and even puts in extra effort each time you fill her fully?

“Daddy, yes, Daddy! D-destroy my ass, use it as your hole, I-I’m your—”

A sudden pause, Yuri must be very close.

“Hm? I’m waiting,” you tease her and stop your annihilation of her wrong-but-right hole. 

“I-I’m your slut, Daddy, your pleasure girl! Fuck my ass-pussy—fuck, harder, Daddy, harder!”

Fuck it, this stays in the final cut. Not only because you don’t want to let this lube-filled waterbed idea go to waste, but also because Yuri is the literal definition of a slut for a Daddy. Overused kink or not, they will lap it up like hungry dogs anyways.

Yuri’s moans grow in pitch, in loudness, while her ass grows in tightness. She is riding the edge, while you ride her ass, it has to end somewhere, in absolute bliss. Daddy’s little pleasure girl, a slut fitting for his cock needs to cum violently, or else she isn’t really useful.

“Then cum like a slut!

“Cum for Daddy!”

Yuri still twitches and whines on the red plastic, when you get up and grab a nearby towel to dry yourself. One towel is not enough, you need two, three before you can walk on the smooth tiles without the constant threat of slipping. Ignore the words coming from the co-hosts mouth, something something ‘first time’, something something ‘gentle, careful’, why is he talking so much right now? Nod along and enter a room with an atmosphere cold and uneasy like north kor—the north pole, of course.

“Hi, I’m Sullyoon,” a girl quickly says, barely getting her words louder than a whisper. She stands in the corner of the room, politely smiling at you, but hesitant to get closer. Her legs fidget in place and her fingers rub the plain brown skirt nervously. 

"Hey, no need to hide it," you tell her with a bright grin to ease the tension roaming her body. "You're nervous, I can see it."

"Ye-yeah, a little bit," Sullyoon admits, averting her gorgeous face when you approach her.

"That is completely fine and very understandable. I think everyone feels unsure about their first time."

Gently place a hand on her shoulder. Sullyoon squirms, her feet shuffle closer together, her puppy-like eyes shimmer with uncertainty. Such a great actress.

"We don't have to continue this," you whisper.

"But wouldn't that put you, give you like trouble?" she returns the whisper. "I don't wanna cause problems."

"I should be the least of your concerns, Sullyoon. Think about what you want and don't be ashamed to tell me."

Sullyoon stares down to your semi-erect cock, her finger hesitantly reaching for it. She then looks to the camera, the formerly pale face in a rosy hue.

"I want to try it, I mean, try to put it in my mouth."

"You're cute, Sullyoon, and brave. Just pinch me when things go too far."

"Like this?" she giggles and giggles a bit louder when you hiss and jump at her nails pinching your thigh. Anything to make her feel secure and to lighten the mood.

"Yes, yes, I see you're good at that. Now, how about you try to get down? You can hold onto this… wall for stability."

Sullyoon takes labored breaths when she is eye to eye with your you-know-what. Who can blame here? Its semi-hard state is still enough to dwarf her hand and fill most of her mouth. Sullyoon knows, thus she remains cautious. First, the tip of her tongue on your tip, tickling your slit gently, while you gently pat her head.

"This is nice," you hum slowly.

"Does it really feel good?"

You nod to Sullyoon's innocent question and feel her grow more confident with each lick, until she puckers her lips to let you enter. Instead of bobbing her head up and down like the more experienced actresses, Sullyoon stays motionless, except for her tongue swirling tornado-like.

"Hm, try, try taking more of it," you encourage her, but Sullyoon shakes her head.

"I-I'm scared. C-can you take the lead?"

"Uhm, sure. First, I need you to spit on it."

Sullyoon makes this adorable expression when she gathers water in her mouth, then lewdly unleashes it onto your base, missing most of your shaft.

"Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No no, just—drool on it. God, you're fucking cute like this."

Rub Sullyoon's cheek. There she goes, trying to hide her embarrassment behind quick actions, but you see right through it. The clear string of drool leaking down her lower lip engulfs your glans, then the rest when you put your shaft inside her.

Well played, all the faux innocence and shyness. Sullyoon is a professional, and like a professional she knows how to struggle while not struggling. Gawk gawk, you could go faster and fuck those plump lips, ruin what might look pure but surely isn't. However, you are supposed to have different plans. 

Don't fuck over the director again, so you slow down a bit and coo to Sullyoon who coughs, coughs, coughs, tears in her orbs, the dozen of times you've seen it today alone. Now you have to pretend to care.

"Everything alright, sweetie?" Play with her pink lips. "You are doing great by the way."

"Thanks. I think you can go harder."

Oh no, who would have thought? This is ridiculous, but they don't need to know. They just have to imagine themselves in your shoes, they are actually the one thrusting, filling a virgin mouth with their girth, and the cute girl loves it. She wants them to take her rougher, claim her; the only one claiming her is you.

Bulge her cheek, a slip up perfect for the camera. It moves from her face to her throat where you bulge again and she gurgles. When a mixture of pre-cum, leftover lube and, of course, Sullyoon's sweet spit land on the lens, you have to cover your mouth to muffle your laughs. Those laughs are suddenly moans, when Sullyoon eagerly sucks faster than you can thrust.

"Oh shit~ Would you look at that, she can do it on her own.

"Quick learner."

Feed into the lies one final time, fondle her dark brown hair one final time, hear her gag one final time—time to leave her tender, warm upper cavern for what you know will be warm too.

"Any other tips for the first blowjob?"

Your co-host’s constant interruptions and unnecessary questions have become stale and almost as annoying as his creepy face peeking in the frame from time to time. In their haze, some might not notice, others on the other hand might get annoyed, so you have to show them how to ignore him. Let’s be honest, they are only here for the testing, so you will give them exactly that.

When the following room was pitched to you, you were excited. When the responsible manager told you the actress they’d like to have for this scene, you became ecstatic. One of your favorites in a cozy room, the temperature meticulously adjusted to the point you can’t feel where your skin ends and the air begins. You don’t walk into the room, you melt into it, becoming one with your surroundings.

“It’s a high pleasure to see you again, Hitomi,” you greet, voice exalted and booming. “I hope you're comfortable and equally excited.”

Hitomi grins cutely, the upper row of her flawless teeth shines white like the snow. She has her head turned to watch you over her shoulders. Her petite frame is bare on the floor which is the right amount warmer than the air to keep the coldest feet warm and her body in heat. 

“I came all the way from Japan for my massage,” she giggles and you lean down to kiss her. Straight on the lips, dive to the cheek, then back on the lips. The two of you have a perfect understanding of the others preferences, so there is nothing that can go wrong. Hitomi is smooth sailing, every part of her body is a feast for your eyes, and you can’t help but show her off. 

“Show me your abs again, please,” you whisper. Hitomi hushes you with a motion, her arms around your nape, her tongue on your lips, her body easy to lift up from the ground. When the short girl is on her feet, you turn her nude body to the camera. Wordlessly, your fingers indicate the perfections: hard abs as mountains and valleys for sweat to run over, almost flat tits with hard nipples in a faint pink, the elegantly trimmed bush above her tight innie. 

“Magnificent, absolutely astonishing.” Your ravishing compliments are cut short by Hitomi getting back into her initial prone position.

“Thank you a lot, darling, but I thought you were here to test me.

“Put it in, pretty please~?”

The significantly shorter japanese girl can grab you and throw you like a ragdoll from one fever dream into the next; you don’t oppose it, you long for it. The way her tiny butt wraps around your enormous length, the way she squeals at first, just to fall into bliss and moan like a cockslut, it’s what you would call greatness. 

Things get even greater when your blurry vision finds the two purple braids on Hitomi’s head. They bounce in the same rhythm as she does, as you do, and with a simple tug they stop. Hitomi gasps, the unexpected pain scaring her. You quickly let go of them, apologetically fucking her asshole faster.

“D-don’t let go. Hold them, pull them!"

Hitomi's chest rises from the ground, her screams not muffled from the heated floor and instead sent to the ceiling. The more your fingers entwine with the braids, the tighter she becomes. This is new, something fresh for your friends-with-benefits relationship. Things will never get boring with Hitomi.

"Her snug hole is good, fuck."

Spread her ass cheeks, spread her legs for the camera to film the penetration. The soft skin tries to milk you, pull you back in and you gladly surrender to another slam, followed by another, and another. 

"This is the best!" Hitomi groans, the only not obscene words in between all her grunts and groans.

"Fuck, it is. The floor, this ass, y-you're too good, I'm so close."

"Time to fulfill your promise." That was not Hitomi’s voice. Who the hell—

"N-Nayeon?!"

Out of nowhere, Nayeon wraps her arm around your throat and forces you to pull out. Your throbbing, swollen, burning cock is about to burst, which is why Nayeon does not waste a second. She gets in position right next to a trembling, sulking Hitomi. Your crotch instinctively turns towards her face, that stupidly gorgeous, slutty face. Her tongue hangs from her lips and like a mindless maniac she jerks you off.

Pain, so much pain. This is what some artists were talking about. Pain and painting are eerily similar, Nayeon's pale face and an empty canvas too. From her temple hidden behind thin strands of gold hair to her pointy chin, your paint brush erupts the watery-white color on her, but as expected, she does not stop there. 

Nayeon rubs your cock from side to side, smearing her entire gleeful face until your knees give out and you stumble backwards into the awaiting arms of a staff member. It's out of the camera's point of view, so luckily the footage isn't ruined by your ugly, breathless expression, though Nayeon's game is not yet over.

"Thank you for keeping your promise~"

"What, what pro-mise?" you stutter.

"Don't you remember?" Nayeon pouts. "Last time you creamed my pussy and afterwards told me you'd have some for my face soon. Does ‘Beverly Hills mansion’ ring a bell?"

"Ah… I guess… yeah."

She is oblivious to you dying under her semen-glazed nose. You know she is not the last, there is still a way to go until you can finally rest, but how? It's impossible, you can barely move, your loins are on fire, your mouth is dry—

A bucket of cold water. Dunk your head in it, lap some of the life-saving elixir, cool off the roaring fire on your skin. A close call, Nayeon made you go up in flames and she is ready to do it again. Your eyes have been purified by the clean water, just for Nayeon to dirty them again. She collects some of your seed from her soft features with two fingers and quickly shoves them into Hitomi’s ass. The japanese girl whimpers when Nayeon doesn’t stop drilling it deep down.

“U-unnie~!”

The way she smacks Hitomi’s ass with the back of her hand while blowing bubbles with the cum dripping into her mouth is a dagger. Your mind goes blank. Someone somehow shoves a blue pill in your mouth. The camera is oblivious to what you do, still focusing on Nayeon. She fingers, she licks, she hums, all for the fans, all for Hitomi to not go without her fair share of pleasure. 

In the hallway is a table. Two members of staff sprint away when you sprint towards it, eager to test the extraordinary effects of the pill. They have just brought in the table, unfortunately the test object is still missing. She is still backstage, still on her phone, still dressed for crying out loud. Step through wires and confused stylists, slap the phone out of her hand, she yelps.

“Hey, what are you—wait, huh?”

A perk of your Asia Tour: all the girls are small and light. The same goes for this one, you easily pick her up and place her down on the table. Her hips instinctively rise up, you can unbuckle her belt and get rid of her gray denim shorts. 

“Okay what the fuck is this?” you growl at her and reach in between the voluptuous buttocks and pull at a red thong.

“I thought you’d like it,” the girl sulks and wiggles her trunk seductively.

“I’d like it if it was the same color as this.”

‘This’ is Chaeryeong’s ass. ‘This’ gets a harsh spank that wakes up the camera crew from their Nayeon-Hitomi-induced trance. They run over to film Chaeryeon’s blissful face as you beat her ass violently, changing up your hands and targets until it’s red all over. Not necessarily the crimson red of her thong, but it will do. Pull it aside to find her desperate, delicious-looking hole, begging to be stretched. 

Chaeryeong’s dazed eyes shoot wide open when you widen the circumference of her ring with your cock, hammering away with the same unrelenting force you hit her ass with. The table creaks and sways, definitely not made for this, but for the sake of science you won’t stop turning it into plywood.

“Stupid bitch with a fat ass!”

That was her scream, and she is goddamn right. Every moan by Chaeryeong and every gasp from behind the scenes further encourages you to break through. Don’t worry about her butt, it’s thorough usage can be seen in all kinds of amateur and professional videos. Don’t worry about the table either, you're just testing its durability. When the first wooden leg begins to splinter, you know it’s over.

“Verdict,” you growl through gritted teeth grinding the great depths of Chaeryeong’s rectum. “An absolute failure.”

“Yes!” she screams, holding onto the table’s edge for fake stability. “I’m useless, just a trunky butt for people to breed!”

“No, not you, the damn tabl—”

Right on que, the wooden structure breaks in two, three, more and more pieces. At this point you might as well beat Chaeryeong’s ass on the marble floor, it’s natural coldness could heal the sore parts a bit. She seems to be the person who is the most opposed to this however. Her hole sucks you back in, telling you to annihilate it and Chaeryeong’s vocal cords until the next scene starts.

“Don’t stop hitting it, I deserve it!” Chaeryeong babbles. “Break me like the table!”

You find yourself in a dilemma: On one hand you could do this all day, the continuous pump and smack, on the other hand you fear for both your and her health. Your hands and her ass have the same burning red color, they need a rest, some distance from each other. The clacks of plastic shoes save you from this addictive, yet dangerous session.

“Enough Chaery—” Sakura complains in a stern, sexy voice. “—more cherry.”

You watch intently as Sakura gets in position. You did not notice her carrying a glass bowl of fresh cherries as well as a bottle of spray cream, both of which she places down before her. In the crouching position, her pink miniskirt made of wool hugs her slender body perfectly, the checkered crop-top meanwhile forms a contrast as it makes her chest look extra big with its bagginess. 

Sakura reaches for two of the cherries, fully ignoring you approaching her and leaving behind a mewling Chaeryeong, ready for more. You can’t give the horny brunette more, she had her turn with you, though there seems to be someone willing to relieve her remaining horniness. 

“Hold still.”

Tiffany. Where did she come from? She must have teleported behind Chaeryeong, pushing aside some of the rubble to get her face up close with the younger girl's ass. She puts her nose on the gaped hole and accompanies her tongue brushing over Chaeryeong’s slit with an echoing slap to her bottom.

“Hey, keep your eyes on me!” Sakura angrily whispers, but it’s hard to oblige her. To get you back into the scene, she has to go all out. Both cherries find their way to her sweet lips. They have a very similar, though be it a bit darker color, and they engulf the fruits. Sakura pulls off the stems, then roughly pulls your cock closer to her mouth. 

You surrender to her idea. The woman in her legendary golden hair is well-known to take the lead. After some adjusting, you find your tip disappearing into Sakura’s mouth, her cheeks bulging from the inside thanks to the cherries resting in each of them. You feel the firm skin of the fruits press down on the sides of your member, an astonishingly different sensation from everything that happened before. 

“Oh fuck,” you groan in bliss.

“Oh fuck!” Chaeryeong screams in lust. You can’t help but turn your head and look over your shoulder as Tiffany rams a strapon into her Dongsaengs awaiting butthole. 

Sakura’s hands reach for your butt, mercilessly digging her nails into the skin and forcing you further down her throat. You meet her angry, tearfilled orbs as she gags on your erection. Throw your head back. The cherries have your base in a tight choke-hold, sort of like a cock ring. 

“F-fuck, I’m sorry, Sa-Sakura,” you apologize. “I did not know y-you were into foodplay.”

Not only your member, also the two fruits fall out of Sakura’s mouth when she backs off. The heavy coughing does not prevent her from catching them. Full of concern you want to reach down, but suddenly her fingers craze your balls.

“Put them in your mouth and shut up.”

Take the two red, fruity objects and follow her instructions. Sakura pulls up the bottle of spray cream and rapidly shakes it up and down. Something something ‘can you do that to my cock, please?’ but you can’t say that, unless you have a death wish. A few seconds later, Sakura aligns the tip of the bottle with your base and sprays a perfectly straight line of whipped cream up to your tip. It’s freezing cold, you hiss and accidentally bite into the juicy flesh of the cherries.

You have a taste, Sakura has a taste. She slurps the white treat off of your cock, licks up the remnants with a quick deepthroat and immediately goes to repeat the process. This time, your more sensitive underside gets attacked by the coldness of the cream and then the hotness of her mouth and the strong slurps of her lips. You start to chew—hopefully Sakura does not. 

“Delicious. Finally, your dick tastes good.”

“E-excuse me?”

“I said—shut up! Who told you to eat those cherries?”

In her anger, Sakura spills some of the cream on her crop top. 

“Ah fuck. All because of you, you stupid moron!”

“S-sorry…”

Sakura sighs and pops open the two buttons holding the crop top together. The handful of her breast looks ready to be glazed and licked, but instead of her cherry-red nippled you bite on cherry-red cherries.

“At least make yourself useful.”

Sakura opens her mouth wide. She sends lots and lots of white stuff into it; not the kind of white stuff you’d like her to eat, but the way she fills her mouth with whipped cream looks insanely hot. The moment she is finished you put your cock up to the stuffed cavern and fuck into it. 

Like an avalanche, the cream topples down to Sakura’s chest, hitting her nubs, making her squirm. This elegant woman has never looked messier. She is certainly no stranger to weird, chaotic shoots, but never has her mouth been such an overflowing, dirty hole. Sakura chokes up some more when you finally reach the hot back of her throat, launching cream all over your crotch. 

This surely must be the finale, the last scene, because you need to clean up, need to take a break from it all. The final shot of Sakura’s face as you groan her name should be enough, an excellent fit for a thumbnail. It alone would sell a hundred-thousand copies, therefore no need for anymore, just please say cut!

“Here, you’ll need it.” Your co-host hands you a couple of wet wipes.

“What for?” you respond, the mask of acting not on your face, just exhaustion.

“The next test, of course.” He points to the far end of the hallway, the room next to the mirrors. “There is one more bed, one more person, I think you remember her?

“It was your idea, after all.”

“Mina.”

A nod. 

“Clean yourself, would be a pain in the ass for her if you didn’t, hehe.”

You might not have any other choice, but he definitely could have worded that better or not at all. However, it’s probably not on camera anyways because everyone’s eyes have switched back to Tiffany and Chaeryeong. The older has one leg of the younger on her shoulder while roughly penetrating the tight hole in a standing position. Chaeryeong’s sticky hands try to balance her numb body on the wall behind her, leaving her more vulnerable to the thrusts and consequentially, screaming louder than ever.

This is your chance to sneak away, and you take it. The best for your spent, hurt cock would be to flee the set altogether, but with only one more girl remaining, separating you from glory and a sweet, sweet paycheck, you decide to get it over with. In Mina’s room, the smell of a freshly washed bed and of a rose petal perfume pulls the brakes on your hastiness. You come to a halt, in awe at what’s before you.

“Hey~” Mina coos when she lifts her gorgeous face from the white sheets in which it was buried. She stretches her arms out and you see her eye-lashes flutter quickly.

“Have you been sleeping?” you ask her with a chuckle.

“Just dozing. Believe it or not, this bed is probably the best I have ever laid in.”

Inch closer and lean down to her face as Mina bites her lips and tugs away the blonde, no, golden hair behind her cute ears. Though it’s just as bright as the pillows, blankets and the metal frame of the bed, her hair still has the biggest contrast to it all. Mina’s pale skin and white, oversized shirt camouflage her very well. 

“I’d love to make a cringe joke out of what you just said, but to be honest, I don’t want to hear them anymore. It’s been a long day.”

“Aw, I really wanted you to follow it up with the ‘get laid’, but nevermind. Where is the camera?”

“It will be here in a second. We should get ready—only if you are really, really certain, one-hundred percent positive though.”

Mina rolls her eyes and rubs your abs tenderly, gasping at the sweat and the remnants of other liquids on them.

“You sound like your manager. I signed the papers, all the agreements and contracts and the other bullshit. Usually, boys don’t ask ten times before they go for it.”

“Understandable, with that ass of yours.”

“I knew you’d get it.” 

Mina pulls the hem of her shirt up to expose her round, juicy ass to you. Reach over to it and fondle it while you walk around the bed behind her. Hasty steps echo through the hallway, the crew must be on their way. In the last seconds of uninterrupted intimacy, you nuzzle down to Mina’s ear while your cock is already trapped in between her cheeks. 

“Congrats on debuting. Everyone will see that your pure-looking face and bubble-butt were made for porn.”

Your final growl leaves Mina trembling, her ass jiggles, her orbs find the lense of an unsteady camera peeking through the door. Triumphantly, you wave the cameraman over to you. He takes deep breaths, keeps the camera focused on Mina’s body, so you can start the final testing session.

“We’ve seen so much today,” you announce with your best impression of a CEO giving a year-end speech. “Too many crazy ideas, crazy girls—it’s time to get back to the fundamentals. A bed, simple and comfortable and a woman, pretty and horny. Nothing more,—”

You spread Mina’s cheeks apart, spit on the beautiful tight ring and find the perfect angle to get inside her. 

“—nothing less.”

Repeat what you have done fourteen damn times today. You can use flattering words, exquisite or humorous remarks, suddenness or gracefulness, in the end it’s all hard buttfucking. They are here for it, seeing a huge ass ripple, a beautiful girl moan, a cock move in and out—as long as the neuron activation hits, they won’t be able to resist it. 

“Isn’t she the one and only acceptable pick for this bed?” you ask the audience as Mina’s ecstatic moans bounce off the walls. “The right color scheme, the same scent, similar addictiveness to use it—her—every night. Only the sheets have to get a bit more ruffled like her hair.”

Your fingers run through Mina’s angelice locks, making her raise her chin high towards the viewer's point of view. She is looking right into their soul, their tired, horny, blissful eyes of envy and adoration, whatever is left of them. They don’t need to be inside her tight ass, she can wring them dry with her allure alone. 

“How do you like your first on-cam cock, Mina?”

“It’s big—it’s so damn good, fuck.”

Grab Mina’s slutty little waist and pick up the pace. She digs her teeth into the sheets to muffle the loud noises from her mouth for whatever reason—it’s an amateur mistake. Everyone is too focused on her bottom anyways, especially you as your testing of her depth continues with a new-found final spurt of stamina. 

“The platonic ideal for a non-platonic relationship; a good fucking bed for a good fucking.” Your voice cracks, falls silent afterwards. The last seconds are nothing but pants and firm claps of skin on skin. Mina’s eyes roll into the back of her head, her slit leaks juices onto the bed. Thrusts, pumps, twitches, it all comes to an end in a gaping hole whose neediness mirrors that of Chaewon’s, Chaeryeon’s, Hitomi’s…

There you go. You did it, you fucking bastard. Fall unconscious as the director shouts ‘cut’, your life has to end right on cue. It’s ironic, the audience will only notice you throughout the video; what happens afterwards is irrelevant. You are basically dead. 

You are basically dead—unless some of the porn sites freeze and the poor, horny soul has to stare at it forever until regretfully smashing their device to bits, never daring to repair it. Oh no, they might have to admit to watching porn to some random repairman, how scandalous. 

You are scandalous, holding onto a pillow at night, wishing for someone to be there for more than mere sex. Although you love doing it and could do it all the time, there is no love in it. Even a robotic, seemingly heartless sex machine like you wants some love, some cuddles, some kisses—

“Where is this pretentious buffoon?”

“Yeah, I want to beat his ass as well; idiot thinks he can just cum on me and leave, ts.”

“I’ll put him out of his misery after the two of you are done.”

Three women stand in the frame of the door. Befitting of her character, Wonyoung was the first to speak to you and is currently the first to climb onto the bed. Her thin body is once again wrapped in the black suit, but her fabulous legs are on full display and kick you down into the mattress as she towers over you.

The second to speak was Seungyeon, who utters more and more complaints while getting closer to the bed until Wonyoung hushes her with a deadly glare. From then on, Seungyeon focuses on showing you her reserved anger in a different way: she uses both hands to press your chest down and immobilize you fully. 

The last to speak was Tiffany. She pays you no mind, instead sitting down next to the still dazed Mina and carefully pats the younger’s head. Strange, she is never this wholesome with you, but with a newbie like Mina it’s no problem? Maybe she really wants to put you out of your misery today.

“Wh-what is happening?” Mina asks, utterly confused as she watches you staring at Seungyeon’s bare tits swinging right over your face. “I thought the shoot was over.”

“Oh it is, sweetie,” Tiffany smiles, while Wonyoung goes to stroke your dick with both her hands and slowly crouches down towards it. “We are just testing.”

“Testing what?”

“Testing when this imbicel’s heart will stop from cumming too much.”

“Won-Wonyoung, please, no!”

Your plea goes unheard—it’s on tape nonetheless. 

Fin

(A/N3: Thank you for reading this mess!)

[tanniefm]

christmas & chill | jjk (m)

sequel to all to you

summary - it’s the most happiest time of the year with your needy boy.

pairing - jungkook x reader (f)

genre - established relationship, pwp, fluff

word count - 3.7k

song inspo - the entirety of ariana grande’s ep christmas & chill ofc!

warnings - reader and koo are hopelessly in love sigh, lots of cum, unprotected sex (pls don’t be dumb like them i beg), koo kinda switches lowkey sorry, overstimulation, hint of dacryphilia, koo’s a lil crybaby, extremely needy koo, praise, riding, backshots yayyyy, oral (f receiving), squirting, cum eating, pet names (ur his angel <3), reader is chubby coded (is that a thing? i’m making it a thing), reader suffers from FPS (fat pussy syndrome) whilst jungkook suffers from FDBS (fat dick and balls syndrome) 😞

a/n - a lil gift from me to u ♡ thank u all for all the love. i wanted to post something for christmas as a 2 year anniversary to my first ever fic i posted on here. hope u enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. see u next year!!

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪♪°•°∞°•°♪°•

The semester is over, finals are a thing of the past, and your lovely new boyfriend is coming over in 15 minutes. Merry fucking Christmas to you! 

Due to finals being obnoxiously cutthroat this year, you’ve barely been able to spend any time with Jungkook. He offered to help you study multiple times, but you felt it would be more responsible to study on your own without any…distractions. You learned from last time that studying with him ends with materials being forgotten and clothes being strewn about. So for two weeks, you put a sex ban on the both of you so that way when you were able to reconnect, it’d be 10x better. Jungkook reluctantly agreed but had a huge pout on his face that you oh so lovingly kissed away. Ever since you two made it official, it’s like all you ever think about is being grossly lovey-dovey with him. In your defense, he makes it a little hard not to. He’s the sweetest boy in the world, of course you wanna shower him with kisses and endless praise and let him pump as much cum into you as his heart desires! The look on his face does you in every single time, just thinking about it is making you squeeze your plush thighs together. 

You shake your head to re-focus on the task of getting ready. Your roommate has the same plans as you do with her own significant other so she notified you she’d be gone for the weekend with a sly smile. Fortunately for her, this means she won’t have to hear the headboard banging rhythmically into the wall at 3 am anymore - well, at least for the weekend. You’ve decided to pamper yourself a little before he arrives. Showered, shaved, moisturized, spritz some sweet-smelling perfume, and even put on a little bit of makeup just to make yourself feel extra cute. You put on some fuzzy pink shorts that make your legs and ass look good, and a tank top with Hello Kitty positioned right in the middle of your boobs. You look and feel so fucking good right now. ‘Jungkook’s gonna bust in his pants again,’ you sigh blissfully to yourself. However, tonight you want him to fill you up completely. It’s what you deserve after such a stressful month of non-stop studying and crying over due dates. You give yourself a little smile in the mirror before you walk to the living room to turn on the tv for background noise. Watching movies is the last thing on your mind at the moment.

Your head springs up when you hear melodic taps on the door. Anytime Jungkook knocks, it has to be to the tune of whatever song he was listening to earlier, it’s a habit you’ve always found to be endearing. You skip to the door happily, excited to see your favorite boy.

“Hey angel, I got us- mph,” you interrupt his sentence with a deep kiss. Fuck, you missed him so much. Although you’d never admit it to his face, as he tends to get a bit cocky (which never lasts once you’re on top of him), this sex ban has been torture for you. You made the foolish decision of adding that neither of you was allowed to touch yourselves while you cracked down on studying. So to say you were pent-up was a gross understatement. You parted from him for air and saw how dazed he looked. Pink cheeks and shaky breaths. Just like always.

You smirk and look down at the bags he has in his hands. “You got food? Aww, you’re too sweet, come in! It’s freezing,” you say innocently. You grab the bags of takeout from him and usher him inside. He’d like to blame his rosy face on the cold wind, but you and him both know you just caught him off guard. And turned him on a little. These past couple of weeks have been what Jungkook would imagine hell is like. And then to add the extra challenge of not masturbating? November is over! What happened to Destroy Dick December?? Nevertheless, he’s ecstatic to see you again. He has so much to give you. He knows you can take it, he just wonders if he can. Other than his incessant horniness though, he’s just as excited to curl up with you under your warm weighted sheets and hold and kiss and love you endlessly. He walks inside to see you’ve transformed the living room into a cozy holiday getaway. Fairy lights decorated the tables and doorway, soft music flowed throughout the room, chilled wine set out on the table, and you, looking as gorgeous as ever. God, he’s so in love with you. He wants every holiday season to be spent with you by his side. He plops himself down on the couch and stares at your pretty figure retreating to the kitchen to collect plates and utensils. He notices that you’re wearing the short fuzzy shorts that he likes. The ones where he can clearly see the soft thighs he always imagines rutting himself between. Maybe if he’s good tonight you’ll let him. His dick slowly hardens at the prospect. 

You come back with eating materials in hand and sit next to him closely on the couch. “What’s all this for?” he asks distractedly. He notices you’ve also put on the perfume he can’t get enough of. It’s subtle enough to not mess with his sensitive nose but sweet enough to keep him wanting more. He wants all of you. Right now. “I thought I’d make the atmosphere nice and warm for us since it’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to be alone together,” you say smiling brightly. You dig into your food ignoring your very erect boyfriend. “You aren’t hungry baby?” you ask with a slight pout. He shakes his head slowly and scans your body up and down, seeing that you’ve foregone a bra. Your nipples poke through the little tank top you’ve thrown on and he desperately wants to lean down and put them in his mouth.

You snicker at how obvious he’s being. You knew he’d get like this as soon as he saw you. You’re surprised he didn’t crumble and fall to his knees the moment you kissed him. There had been many nights throughout these past few weeks where he’d text you alluding to wanting to see you, touch you, taste you, anything. All of which you would shut down and sternly tell him to not touch himself. “The only one that’s making you cum this month is me, do you understand?” you had firmly told him one night. He whimpered and whinily agreed. He’s such a good boy, your good boy.

Now with you right in front of him, looking the way that you do, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. You laugh and swallow the last bite of your food and turn to him. “Ok ok, I get it,” you say as you lean in to kiss him. He immediately wants to deepen it but you push him back before he has the chance. “Don’t you want to make a little toast first?” you don’t think he could get any poutier. “If I drink this wine can we have sex after?” you giddily nod and pour your glasses. “To us,” you clink your glasses together and watch as he hastily downs his whole cup. This is definitely gonna be a long night.

Without even considering letting you finish, he dives in for another long kiss. You smile into it and place your glass on the table to focus your full attention on him. Tongues dancing for dominance that he beautifully succumbs to. You climb on top of him slowly and straddle his firm thighs. You’ll never get over how such a strong man will willingly submit to your every whim. He’s so perfect. 

He runs his hands up and down your sides and feels how soft you are. He knows you’ve been insecure about your body in the past, but he’s always loved it. Even before you agreed to be his girlfriend, he’d savor any ounce of physical contact with you if it meant he got to feel your tiny squishy self against his lean muscular form. Your thighs squeeze around his hips and you push your heat against his straining bulge. He moans wantonly. This is what he’s been craving. Your warmth on top of him. The only thing that could make this better is you letting him inside of you to feel it completely. He bucks his hips into yours to hint at what he wants. But you know, you’ve known since before he walked into your place. If he had things his way, he would’ve picked you up and taken you on the front door. But he enjoys the teasing and the waiting. He enjoys the thrill of not knowing what’ll happen next. He enjoys anything you’ll allow him. 

Your kisses descend upon his jaw and neck as his cold hands fiddle with the hem of your tank top. He gives you a pleading look, silently asking if he can take it off, which causes you to nod as an affirmative. He quickly takes it off and leans back to do the same to his own shirt. Seeing his bare chest will forever be a treat for you. You're sure he could say the same if his ogling of your boobs is anything to go by. “You’re so pretty,” he sighs. His pupils dilate as he softly squeezes them in his hands. “Wanna suck on them,” he mumbles. You giggle and tell him to go ahead which he does swiftly. There’s something lethargic about watching him suck and play with your nipples. Even when not in a sexual context, he likes to have you in his mouth absentmindedly. You’re starting to think it’s become a comfort thing for him. He looks so at peace. His cold fingers contrast his warm tongue and it only adds to your pleasure. You rock against him harder which causes him to part from your nipples to whine. 

“Please- please can I be inside of you? I need it, I’m so full angel please,” he rushes out. “You wanna fill me up baby?” you respond gently, cupping his face with your hands. His doe eyes framed by your fresh set of acrylics is such a pretty sight to see. He nods and whispers another please. He looks so good when he begs. You wish you could take a mental screenshot of this moment.

You get up to discard your shorts and lacy pink panties while he impatiently just tugs his pants and boxers down to his knees. You’ve decided he’s had enough teasing for the night and quickly guide his throbbing length inside your embarrassingly wet pussy. He lets out a sob as you bottom out on him completely. You give yourself a brief second to adjust and let him recuperate from everything that happened in the last 60 seconds or so. You give him a small peck and ask if he’s ready, to which he replies with a soft yes and squeezes your hips for emphasis. With that, you slowly lift your hips and plop back down with a quickness. He’s so fucking big; not only is he long, but he’s slightly thick too. He’s always leaving your poor pussy sore but he fills you so fucking well you can’t find it in you to care. You set a fast pace as you’re overcome with your own need to feel good. You can’t wait for him to cum inside you. The moment you told him you were on birth control and that you were ok with him finishing inside he almost lost his mind. You’ve come accustomed and even excited to feel his love filling you in the most physical way. 

His hands grip your hips firmly as he throws his head back and takes the pleasure he’s receiving. You’re squeezing around him tightly and bouncing up and down on him so swiftly, he feels like he’s basking in the glows of heaven. “Ahh ____ you’re gonna milk it out of me fuck,” he moans loudly. His voice tends to heighten in pitch whenever he’s close and his eyes start to water as if he’s on the verge of bursting into tears. This however, only encourages you to get him there quickly. You wanna see tears streak down his face as he releases two weeks’ worth of cum inside of you. You bet he has so much. It might even overflow. With this thought, you move even faster, telling him to keep his eyes on you. “Don’t close your eyes baby, I wanna see those pretty eyes when you cum inside me ok?” you tell him. He tries his hardest to keep his eyes open, but the tears in his eyes cloud his vision. He blinks profusely in an attempt to clear them. He wants you to be the only thing he sees. He’s gonna cum any second now. It feels too good, you’re overwhelming his senses and he can’t hold it anymore. “____! I- fuck I’m cumming I’m cumming I”m sorry I can’t hold it,” his revere breaks as you feel spurts of warm cum release deep in your heat. You gasp and furrow your brows as you halt your movement. Pleasure racks through both of your bodies as you both cum together. You rock your hips back and forth to ride it out but it only causes him to whine loudly in overstimulation. He wants to go again. He still has more to give you.

“Keep going please I still have more,” he says breathily. Unfortunately for him, you are far too tired to keep riding him. Your legs are sore and you’ve frankly overexerted yourself. ‘Maybe I should take up on his offers on going to the gym,’ you think offhandedly. You place your head next to his ear and pant, “Fuck me baby, c’mon. Do whatever you want.” It’s almost as if a flip switches in his brain as he’s given permission to fuck you in any way he pleases. At this, he grips his hips and lifts you up slightly to pound his cock into you. His balls slap against your soft pussy as he sets a quick pace. You feel like a little doll with the way he fucks into you. You can’t help but notice that even when he’s fucking you like this, manhandling you into any position he wants, he’s still whining and looking at you with complete and utter adoration. He pulls you in to give you a sloppy kiss as he cums for the second time that night. He moans into your mouth as you feel the tears that seem to continuously fall from his eyes on your cheeks. He pulls away to give you both a chance to breathe. 

His forehead rests against yours as he gasps for breath. You feel his cock twitch inside of you. “Kookie..are you still-” you stop yourself as he buries his head into your chest and cries. “M’ sorry I just- I missed you so much. I’ve been wanting this so bad angel. I just wanna fuck you over and over again. I’ve been saving it all for you. Just like you told me to,” he sobs into you. Your poor baby, he’s been suffering more than you thought he has. You wonder how he would’ve coped had you not have added the dumb “no touching yourself” to your little challenge. Probably by stroking himself to the thought of you every night. You clench at the thought. He lifts his head with widened eyes. You didn’t cum! And he did! How selfish could he be? He gently lifts you off of him and lays you back on the couch. He gives you a big, loving kiss and makes his way downwards. “Wait! Not on the couch, this shit is hard to clean,” you hurriedly say. He smiles bashfully and picks you up to carry you to your room.

It’s like you weigh nothing to him, a sentiment that makes you blush and giggle into his neck. He smiles and pecks your head before he flops you down on your soft sheets (that’ll definitely need to be washed thoroughly once he’s done with you). He gets down on his knees and looks up at you. You are nothing but a goddess in his eyes. The love of his life. He’ll do anything for you. You stare back at him and card your nails through his hair, gazing at him tenderly. This is exactly how it should be. Him on his knees staring up at you in awe, and you, pushing his head straight to your cum-filled pussy. You’d laugh if he didn’t instantly wrap his lips around your swollen clit. 

He runs his tongue up and down your cunt, cleaning it the best he can whilst simultaneously trying to get you to climax on his tongue. He fucks his tongue into you as he brings his chilly fingers to your clit. You yelp and moan loudly. “Fuck yes, just like that baby. That’s so good,” you praise. His bright eyes look up at you as he rubs your slick bud in circular motions, his tongue never stopping its pace inside. He parts from between your thighs briefly to whisper to you “Please cum for me angel. Wanna make you feel good,” and goes back to eating you with intent. That does it for you, you see a burst of white behind your eyelids as you cum messily on his face. This has got to be the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, as you can’t stop shaking and trembling. He kisses your shaky thighs and caresses them softly to bring you back down.

He kisses his way back up to your face to check if you’re ok. “You alright?” he asks delicately. He pecks all over your face as he sees you slowly but surely come back to him. When your eyes flutter open, you’re shocked to see that his face is drenched. “Did I…,” he smiles brightly and nods. “I made you squirt angel,” he says with a grin. He’s lucky he’s cute, otherwise you’d be extremely annoyed with his cockiness. He looks so proud of himself though, so you’ll let it slide this one time. While you’d love to just pass out and deal with the mess later, you can’t help but notice the incessant hardness poking your stomach. “One more?” you question. He pouts once more and nods with pleading eyes. “Just one more, I promise,” he says. You relent and turn over on your stomach, maybe if he goes easy on you, you can even rest a little while he reaches his peak. But this is Jungkook, of course that’s not going to happen.

He grips your hips and hikes your ass up to get you into just the position he wants. He’s kind enough to put a pillow underneath you so as to not strain your back as much. The tip of his cock has been leaking ever since he got on his knees to eat your pretty pussy that he loves, and the throbbing was starting to become painful. He runs his dick through your folds to slicken himself up and whimpers when the tip catches onto your slit. With a soft kiss to your back, he thrust himself inside. Since he’s eaten you and stretched you so thoroughly, there’s no need for you to adjust, so he starts jackhammering into your cunt right away. He still feels so full, he loves the sound of his fat balls pounding away your plush little pussy. When he feels this good, he can’t seem to keep quiet.

“Mmmm this is so good, so fucking good. I’m so sorry baby, I can’t stop. I wanna fill you over and over. Look so pretty with my cum stuffed inside of you,” and here come the waterworks. He’s so sensitive, fucking you like this almost hurts. But he can’t stop, not until he’s completely empty. His thrusts are nothing short of quick and concise. He loves when you let him use you like this. Nothing but sounds of your wetness, his balls pattering against your bud, and the sounds of your combined moans run throughout the small apartment. You’re definitely gonna get another noise complaint.

“Baby, you can slow down it’s ok, don’t overwork yourself,” you plead. His tears almost make you want to stop him altogether and give him a chance to calm down. Jungkook, on the other hand, has no intentions on stopping. “No! I can’t, I need to keep going! Please don’t make me stop I wanna cum again please please please,” he sobs. He’s so close, he can feel it swirling in his stomach. He just needs a little more and then he can finally milk all the cum he’s been saving for you out of him. You, incidentally, are close to cumming too. In fact, you’re learning that this feeling you’re experiencing is that you’re about to squirt again. “Koo- oh my god, I- baby I’m gonna-” you stumble. “Me too, me too, fuck. Let go angel, make a mess on me again,” he rushes out as his thrusts increase. He spits on his fingers and runs them along your hard little bud. You try to muffle your scream into your pillows as you release all over his chest and your sheets. Seeing and feeling you squirt all over him causes him to reach his climax as well. He pumps every last bit of cum that he has inside your battered pussy as he thanks you profusely. Just as you expected, it overflows and drips back down your thighs. Jungkook collapses as softly as he can on top of you as you both breathe heavily. His cock finally softens and he reluctantly pulls it out as gently as he can. 

As he heavily plops himself down next to you, he sees that you’ve knocked out, already snoring lightly. He chuckles and pulls you into his chest. “Thank you angel. I love you, so so much,” he whispers. This is exactly what he wanted for Christmas. You safe in his arms and full of his cum.