#i really like how hes being pushed and pulled

[maskedbyghost]

i have a breeding kink but at the same time i have a terrible fear of getting pregnant to the point where ive had nightmares about it and anxiety attacks (especially now that abortions are no longer a constitutional right in the US). yeah, not a great combo when in bed lol

just thought maybe my woe would spark some kind of lil story for ya :)

thank you for the request anon, hope you like it :) cw: breeding kink, smut, +18 content below

You shouldn’t want it... Not like this.

You’re on your back, thighs spread and shaking, and Simon’s weight is pressing down over you, with his hands under your knees, pushing your legs open wide enough that you can feel it in your hips, that sweet ache where stretch meets surrender—but all you really notice is the way he’s looking at you.

A little wild. A little too pleased. Like he knows exactly what’s going on in your head.

"You’re fuckin’ dripping," he mutters against your throat, dragging the thick head of his cock through your folds, teasing you with it, slowly. “You want me to fill you up, yeah?”

Your body screams yes. It pulses with it. You tilt your hips, chasing the friction, heat curling sharp in your belly. That filthy little corner of your brain lights up like a match—the one that wants to hear him say it, again and again. That he’s going to put a baby into you. That your body’s his, made to take it.

But just behind that is the fear. Always is.

The kind that hits in the dead of night, heart racing, breath stuck in your throat. The kind that makes you double-check your pill pack and panic at a missed period. That terrible, breathless dread of being trapped in your own body. Waking up from a dream where you were pregnant and sobbing like it had already happened.

Your fingers grip the sheets, tension building under your skin, about to snap.

Simon feels it. Of course he does. He always knows.

He stills, just slightly. Doesn’t let go of your legs, doesn’t pull away—he just watches you, his brows pulling together. "Hey."

You blink, trying to smile, but it doesn’t work. “I’m fine. I want it. Just keep going.”

He doesn’t move. "You sure?"

“I am,” you say too fast, then softer, “I think I just… my head’s being weird again.”

That look he gives you—the one that feels like a fucking hand on your heart. He leans in, nose brushing yours, eyes locked on you like nothing else exists, and in that moment, it doesn't.

“Tell me,” he murmurs. “Whatever it is. We don’t play unless it’s good for you. Yeah?”

You swallow, heart hammering. You hate admitting it. Hate feeling like your brain’s betraying your body.

“I like it,” you say quietly. “The dirty talk. The whole—breeding thing. I need it sometimes. But I’m also terrified. Like, terrified of actually getting pregnant. It’s… bad. Nightmares, panic attacks...”

His jaw ticks. Just once. That barely contained fury that only shows up when he’s angry on your behalf.

“Fuck,” he says. “Alright. Come here.”

He pulls you in, lets your legs wrap around his waist, chest to chest now, holding you close, grounding you. One big hand slides up your back, the other gripping your thigh, his voice right at your ear.

“You trust me?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Then let me take care of you.”

You nod against his shoulder, and that’s all he needs.

“Good girl,” he breathes, then pulls his hips back, just enough to push his cock against you again. “Gonna give you everything you want, every filthy fuckin’ word. Gonna ruin you like I’m tryin’ to knock you up. But I won’t. I won’t do anything to you that you don’t want, yeah?”

You whimper. “Yes, Simon. Please.”

“God, you sound so sweet like this,” he groans, sliding in, inch by inch. “So needy. You like when I talk like that, don’t you? Gets you so wet, you don’t even care how wrong it sounds.”

He bottoms out with a growl, and your back arches off the bed. You’re already close, tension thrumming under your skin, clenching around him like your body’s begging to be used.

“Look at this little cunt,” he pants, pulling out halfway just to slam back in. “Taking all of me like it wants it. Like it’s fuckin’ desperate for it.”

You’re gasping now, fingers digging into his back, losing yourself to the rhythm, to the stretch, to the low, filthy sound of his voice.

“You want it, don’t you?” he whispers darkly, lips against your jaw. “Wanna be full of me. Wanna let me fuck you raw and finish inside, over and over until you’re leaking, stuffed, ruined.”

“Yes—Simon, yes—”

“But you don’t have to be scared,” he says, voice dropping lower, sweet and vicious. “You’re safe with me. I’ve got you. Always.”

And somehow that undoing feels different.

Like you can want it—really want it—and still be safe.

He fucks you through it, one hand on your belly, pressing down just a little, groaning when you flutter around him.

“Feel that?” he growls. “That’s me. Deep as I can go. Where I belong.”

Your eyes roll back. You're shaking under him, every nerve lit up, body raw with pleasure.

And then he’s coming too, face buried in your neck, groaning your name like it’s the only thing he knows how to say.

He pulls out slowly and carefully. Your thighs are trembling, slick between them, and he’s already wiping you down with a warm cloth before you can even blink. No words—just his soft hands.

Then he climbs back in behind you, draping a blanket over both of you, pulling you into his chest.

“You’re not wrong for wanting it,” he says against your temple. “Wantin’ that kind of surrender. You just need someone who knows how to give it to you right.”

You smile, slow and sleepy. “And you’re that someone?”

He huffs. “You fuckin’ know I am.”

And yeah, you really do.

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

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6

[mattrempeswife]

THE DARE THAT BROKE ME

requested: yes | req: i would love myself an angsty fic of the reader being asked out, but only because luke’s friends dared him to. the reader has really low self esteem and when she finds out he has to grovel to get her back. there’s tears, there’s pain, but there’s also a happy ending because the world is already hard enough.

pair: luke hughes x f!reader

genre: angst, drama, hurt/comfort, romance (slow burn), emotional betrayal.

warnings: emotional manipulation, self-esteem issues / negative self-talk, betrayal, swearing, harsh words and arguments, mentions of bullying & social rejection, mild yelling, open ending.

summary: you’ve never been the girl anyone really looked at, not the girl people wanted to be friends with, not the girl boys lined up to date. especially not someone like luke hughes. but when the golden boy of hockey asks you out, it feels too good to be true.

fia’s note: i won’t lie, i was this (🤏) close to having the reader kick him right in the nuts for agreeing to that ridiculous dare, like, sir, actions have consequences! haha. but i took a deep breath, channeled my inner angst gremlin, and here we are. i really hope you enjoyed this one-shot and that it tugged at your heart just the right amount! also, just a little reminder that my will smith requests are still wide open, so if you’ve got anything in mind, angst, fluff, chaos throw it my way. let’s keep the fun (and pain) going!

You were never the girl people wanted to be friends with.

From a young age, you learned to fade into the background. Pretty girls were admired. Confident girls were desired. Loud girls were loved. But you? You were the quiet one. The one whose name was often forgotten in group assignments. The one who never got asked to dances, whose existence felt like background noise.

You didn’t grow up expecting a fairytale. You just wanted someone to see you.

And somehow, impossibly, Luke Hughes had.

That’s what made it so cruel.

You’d always had a crush on him, Luke, the boy with the easy grin and the kind eyes. He was hockey royalty before he even knew what ‘NHL’ is. People adored him. The girls swooned. The guys worshipped him. He didn’t just exist.

He glowed.

And for reasons you still didn’t understand, Luke Hughes had asked you out.

You remember the day vividly. How he found you by your locker, awkward but smiling. How he asked you if you wanted to grab coffee sometime. You’d laughed because you thought it was a joke. Why would someone like him ask out someone like you?

But he’d insisted. Told you he’d been meaning to ask for a while.

And stupidly, stupidly you said yes.

That was four months ago.

Four months of waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Luke to wake up and realize he’d made a mistake. He was sweet most days. Distant on others. He’d hold your hand in private but avoided too much PDA. You never pushed, too afraid that if you reached for more, he’d pull away completely.

You told yourself that was just who he was, a lowkey, not the showy type. Maybe he was just shy. Maybe he wasn’t good with feelings.

You accepted the breadcrumbs like they were a feast.

Because you didn’t know how to believe you deserved anything more.

You sat curled up on the cold bleachers, knees tucked to your chest watched Luke skate laps during practice. The rink was mostly empty aside from a few team staff and friends. You wore his hoodie, it still smelled like his cologne and fiddled with the sleeves absentmindedly, scrolling through your phone to kill time.

You didn’t expect the message.

It came from an unknown number.

No text. Just a video.

Your first instinct was to ignore it. But curiosity won out.

You tapped the thumbnail.

The quality was shaky, like it had been recorded in a rush. Luke was in it, unmistakable in his backwards hat and smug grin, surrounded by a circle of friends. You recognized a few of them from his team. And then, there was her.

Lola.

You’d heard her name before. Luke’s “childhood best friend.” The one people whispered he used to have a thing for. You never pried. Luke had never given you a reason to be jealous until now.

In the video, you could hear Lola’s voice.

'I dare you, Luke Hughes, to date Y/N. Make her fall for you… and then kick her ass.'

There was laughter. Male. Female. Loud. Cruel.

Then Luke. Laughing.

'Okay, deal. I’ll make her fall for me.'

You don’t know how to react.

The hoodie you wore suddenly felt like it was choking you. The air in the rink was too sharp. You blinked, once, twice, hoping it would disappear.

But it didn’t.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t want to.

You just stood up.

You walked out of the rink without looking back.

Luke noticed the moment you left.

He skated over, pulling off his gloves and jogging on the ice toward the exit.

“Babe?” he called out.

“Hey, where are you going?”

You didn’t answer. Your feet moved faster.

He caught up just outside the door, gripping your wrist gently.

“Hey. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

You stared at his hand on your arm.

Then slowly, deliberately, you turned around and shoved your phone into his chest. The video played again, Lola’s voice cutting, his laughter stabbing deep.

“This,” you said, voice eerily calm.

“This is what happened.”

Luke’s eyes widened as he watched the screen, realization creeping in like a sickness.

“No. No, it’s not what it looks like…”

“I fucking hate you, Luke.”

He flinched.

You didn’t yell. You didn’t scream.

You simply stared at the boy you once thought was your beginning.

“I thought you were different. I thought… God, I was so stupid. I let myself believe someone like you could actually love someone like me.”

“Don’t say that,” he said quickly.

“I do, I do love you. I didn’t mean any of it. That was months ago, it was stupid, I didn’t know you then.”

“But you knew enough,” you snapped.

“Enough to decide I was pathetic enough to be a fucking joke.”

“I didn’t think you’d matter this much,” he blurted.

You blinked. The silence hit harder than any scream.

You took a step back.

“That’s the difference between us,” you whispered.

“You didn’t think I’d matter. I always thought you did.”

Luke reached for you again, panic in his eyes.

“No. Wait. Y/N, don’t, please just let me explain. I swear, it wasn’t like that. I caught feelings, real feelings. That dare was a stupid moment, I regretted it before we even went out.”

“But you still said yes. You still laughed. You still looked right at your friends and agreed to humiliate me.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes now, despite how hard you fought to keep them back.

“You wore my insecurities like a costume. And I wore your name like it meant something.”

He looked like he wanted to say something. To fix everything. To erase the past.

But you were done being the girl who begged to be wanted.

You peeled off the hoodie and dropped it in his hands.

“You don’t have to kick my ass, Luke. I’ll save you the trouble.”

You stepped back again.

“I’m kicking your ass out of my fucking life.”

You didn’t look back.

He called your name. But you kept walking.

And the silence that followed said more than either of you ever could.

You didn’t go home that night. Not really.

You ended up sitting in your car for an hour in a grocery store parking lot, staring blankly at the windshield. You were too numb to cry, too angry to scream.

The video played on a loop in your mind.

“Okay, deal. I’ll make her fall for me.”

You thought about every time he kissed your forehead. Every time he texted you goodnight. Every time he pulled you into his chest and told you he was lucky.

Was it all a performance?

Had he felt anything real?

Or were you just the punchline of a joke he never expected to cost him anything?

You hated that a part of you still wanted to believe him.

That a part of you still wanted him to run after you, fall to his knees, beg for forgiveness.

But that’s the thing about heartbreak, you never really lose the hope. You just bury it beneath the pain.

You didn’t see Luke for days.

He texted.

He called.

He even came to your dorm and sat outside your door for hours.

But you didn’t answer.

You couldn’t.

Because hearing his voice would mean letting him back in. And you weren’t sure if your heart could survive that again.

Four days later, you heard a knock at your front door.

You weren’t expecting anyone. You pulled your sweater tighter around you and opened it cautiously.

Luke stood there.

Hair messy. Eyes red. Hoodie wrinkled like he hadn’t changed in days.

In his hands was a plastic bag.

“Hey,” he said softly.

You didn’t speak.

“I—uh,”

He cleared his throat, eyes flickering to the ground.

“I brought you soup. I know you get sick when you’re stressed. You always said soup helps.”

You didn’t move.

He swallowed. “Can we talk?”

You opened the screen door slowly and stepped onto the porch, the cool air biting at your skin. Luke looked nervous, hopeful, scared.

You stared at him, then reached behind you and pulled something from the chair inside.

“I forgot to give this back to you,” you said quietly.

You held out his hoodie, his hoodie, the one you’d worn like armor, the one that used to smell like home.

It was folded neatly.

He stared at it like it was a grenade.

His voice cracked.

“You can keep it.”

“It’s yours now. But I thought maybe… I don’t know. I needed a reason to see you.”

“I didn’t ask to see you,” you said, voice low.

“I don’t want anything from you, Luke.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“But I... I can’t stay away.”

You sighed, stepping back slightly to close the door but before you could even think about shutting him out again, Luke dropped to his knees.

Right there.

On your porch.

His hands pressed together, like he was praying, trembling.

“Please,” he said.

“Please forgive me.”

You froze.

“Luke, what are you doing—get up—”

“No,” he choked.

“I won’t. Not until you hear me. Not until you really listen to me.”

He looked up at you, eyes filled with tears.

“What I did… it was horrible. I was stupid, and immature, and I didn’t think it would turn into anything. It was a dare, yeah. But you were never supposed to matter.”

You flinched, and his eyes squeezed shut in pain.

“But then you did,” he continued.

“You mattered more than anyone ever has. You became the best thing that ever happened to me. And I fell in love with you, I did. I do. Every day, even now. Even when you hate me.”

You blinked hard, heart thudding painfully.

“I didn’t want it to start like that,” he whispered.

“But I wanted it to stay because of you. Because of who you are. And I swear to god, I was going to tell you. I just didn’t know how. And I kept thinking I’d ruin it.”

“Well, you did,”

You said, your voice shaking now, tears stinging your eyes.

“You ruined everything. You made me feel like a joke. Like I was some fucking charity case.”

Luke sobbed, actually sobbed.

“I know,” he said brokenly.

“I know I hurt you. But please… let me fix this. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

You wanted to scream. To push him away. To tell him that no amount of apologies could fix the way it felt to watch that video, to hear him laugh while agreeing to play you like a game.

But he was still on his knees, shaking, begging.

Crying.

And then something in you cracked.

The anger and heartbreak swirling into something softer. Not forgiveness. Not yet. But the ache of love never really went away it had only buried itself under everything he broke.

You sank to your knees in front of him.

And that was when he completely fell apart.

He pulled you into his arms like he couldn’t believe you were real. You cried into his shoulder, fists clutching the front of his hoodie. His tears soaked into your shirt, and he just kept whispering,

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” like it was the only language he remembered how to speak.

When you pulled back, both of you a mess of tears and shaking breaths, you looked him in the eyes.

“I’m not saying it’s okay,” you whispered.

“I’m not saying I forgive you yet. But I still love you. And I think… I want to try. If you’re willing to fight for me.”

“I’ll fight forever,” he said hoarsely.

“You’re everything to me.”

And for the first time in days, you believed it.

[oreo-creampies]

“𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨���𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! first time w toji, virgin!reader, reader is lil insecure about how her coochie looks and her performance, just the tip/fucking you with his tip, HEAVY praise/encouragement & reassurance, light begging, toji take its slow and is soft soft soft for you, forehead kisses, hand holding during sex is so sweet, light making out, overstimulation/hints of mind break, very light size kink, daddy/mama

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! Do you think Toji would be gentle if it was your first time having sex? Just imagine him rubbing his tip against our entrance and being like “relax for me, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

Fey: we can take a moment to appreciate soft toji after some mean toji

Toji grinds his hard, heavy cock on your soft cunt. The feeling is so surreal and new to you, the warmth of his cock, the softness of his skin with how hard and heavy he is.

Toji’s weight is comforting when he leans over you. Softly kissing your forehead then encouraging you, “‘You can take me lil mama, we’re gonna go slow,” gently grabbing your hand “Squeeze my hand for comfort, how’s this sound, say blue if it gets too much.”

Sitting up grabbing his thick hard cock and lining himself up with your soaking wet cunt. Slowly rubbing his cock between your soft lips. “Your lips are so pretty mama, I love seeing them around my cockhead.” Your cheeks heat up as you look away.

“You’re staring too much! My pussy looks weird! Nnnn!” Your jaw drops when he nudges his thick cock head in. The pleasure is stronger than the acute discomfort which quickly melts as Toji strokes your clit.

Clenching Toji’s cock he croons, “We can't be looking at the same pretty lil’ cunt. She’s so soft, wet and fuckin’ gorgeous, I wanna take my time with her.” Toji keeps still groaning when you clench his fat head.

It feels so wonderful but strange having someone else touching your soft clit while they’re inside of you. When you close your eyes Toji gently squeezes your hand.

“Beautiful mama I need you to look at me.” When you look at him he smiles, “Good girl.” He glides some of his cock in and you jolt, tensing up, your nerves getting the best of you. “

He slowly pulls out leaving half his head inside you. He croons, “Relax for me mama, trust me to take good care of your gorgeous lil’ cunt.” Taking the moment to admire how your little hole is stretching when he pushes the rest of his head in.

“I can't stop watching her take me. Everything about your pussy is beautiful, the color, your shape of your lips n’ how soft you feel around me, fuck lil mama. Tell me you have a gorgeous cunt.” The way he is playing with your clit is making it hard to think.

“Nnngonna cum?! Daddy? How? I already?” Your head is going fuzzy from the intense euphoric high of cumming again.

Toji croons, “Go ahead lil’ mama cum on ya daddy’s cock.” Twisting your hips he glides his cock out.” You’re doing so good.” Stroking your clit faster as your soaking wet cunt spasms around nothing and soaks the bed.

“You can handle it, that’s it, you’re doing so good cumming. Ya can keep going.” Biting your bottom lip as he lines himself back up. He barely nudges his head in. “Say you have a beautiful cunt, if you want more than just the tip.”

Pushing your hips down whilst pleading, “I have a beautiful cunt! Please put it in, I want you to cum too!” Toji doesn't have it in him to pull away. Rolls his hips gliding in half his cock before restraining himself.

He insists, “What’s it? You’ll have to be clearer for me, look me in the eyes when you say it.” His smokey gray blue eyes are too intense, your nerves hit you full force. “Aw are you really getting shy with my cock in ya?”

Admitting to Toji, “No…I’m getting nervous again, nnn!” You feel so full as he fucks you with half his cock. “You’re too hoooot!” He. I like you a little too much, it's making me nervous how I'm doing and what you’re thinking.”

He leaves your sensitive clit alone and pins your thigh by your side. “‘I’m thinking about how I want to flip you over and fuck ya from behind so I can watch your ass bounce while you take me. But backshots might be a bit much for your first time.” Holding your hand above your head, he leans down and gives you a soft kiss.

It feels so good to be underneath him full of his cock while softly making out with him. Wrapping one leg around his waist, digging your nails into his well-sculpted backside.

Moaning into Toji’s soft slow passionate kiss, sliding your fingers into his soft dark hair. Toji keeps his pace slow and steady, fucking you a little deeper, rubbing your sweet spot and wrecking every thought.

It’s hard to be nervous when his cock is deep in your guts. When he pulls away you beg, “I can take your fat cock daddy please! I wanna make you feel good too! Lemme take your cock from the back while you hold my wrists together. I wanna try every position possible with you.” He pulls out and flips you over.

Toji can easily hold your wrists behind your back with one hand. “I can’t tell my lil’ mama no with you begging me like that. But first tell me how sexy your soaking wet cunt is.” Rubbing his cock between your soft lips.

Oreo’s m.list

[duoteen]

okay but like boxer hubby cheol with his pretty little wifey and them getting freaky after he won cuz he’s a champ 😵‍💫

My Champion|| Choi Seungcheol

Notes: stop I actually love this concept it’s so hot

Seungcheol steps into the ring, his muscles rippling under his skin as he squares off against his opponent. You watch from the sidelines, your heart pounding with excitement and pride. He moves with deadly precision, dodging and weaving as he lands blow after blow. His boxing skills are impressive, and you can see the crowd is captivated by his performance.

As the match goes on, Seungcheol gains the upper hand, finally knocking his opponent out in the final round. The referee raises his hand in victory, and the arena erupts in cheers. Seungcheol grins at you as he's presented with the championship belt, his eyes dark with desire. "Come here," he calls out, gesturing for you to join him in the ring.

You climb up to meet him, your heart racing as he pulls you into a passionate kiss in front of everyone. The crowd goes wild, but all you can focus on is the feeling of his strong arms around you and the heat of his body pressed against yours. Seungcheol smiles at you through the blood and bruises, his expression fierce and possessive. The cut on his nose and split lip only add to his dangerous appeal.

"I did it for you," he says, his voice rough as he holds you close. "Won the championship so I can provide for our family." You run your fingers over his bruised knuckles, your heart swelling with love and admiration. "You're incredible," you whisper, leaning in to kiss him gently despite his injuries.

The crowd continues to cheer and chant his name, but Seungcheol only has eyes for you. "Let's get out of here," he says, his hands roaming over your body possessively. "I need to celebrate with my wife." Seungcheol walks out of the arena with you by his side, answering questions from the press as he shows off his championship belt. His arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, a constant reminder of who he did all this for.

"I have to thank my wife for being my biggest supporter," he says, smiling at you. "She's been my rock through everything." The reporters clamor for more, but Seungcheol only has eyes for you. "We're going to celebrate now," he tells them, pulling you closer as he guides you towards his car. The paparazzi snap pictures of the two of you, capturing the moment of his triumph and your loving support. As you get into the car, Seungcheol turns to you with a hungry look in his eyes. "Time for my real prize," he says, his voice dripping with desire.

"You should really get those cuts looked at," you say softly, reaching out to touch his face gently. "They look painful." Seungcheol chuckles, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm. "It's nothing I can't handle," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "But if it makes you feel better, I'll get checked out when we get home." You nod, relieved that he's being reasonable. The adrenaline from the fight is starting to wear off, and you can see him wincing slightly as he shifts in his seat.

"You were amazing out there," you say, intertwining your fingers with his. "The way you moved... it was like watching art in motion." Seungcheol smiles at your praise, his grip on your hand tightening. "All for you," he repeats, his voice filled with affection. "Always for you." Seungcheol parks the car in the driveway and turns to you, his eyes dark with desire despite his injuries. "Let's get inside," he says huskily. "I need to show you how much I want you right now."

You can see the tension in his body as he struggles to contain himself, his hands flexing restlessly on the steering wheel. The sight of him so wound up is making you ache with need. As soon as you're inside the house, Seungcheol pushes you against the wall, his mouth claiming yours in a desperate kiss. "I need to be inside you," he growls, his hands roaming over your body as he presses his hardness against you.

"You're mine," he says between kisses. "My champion's prize." Seungcheol's movements are rough and urgent, his adrenaline still pumping from the fight. His hands are possessive and demanding as he strips you out of your clothes, not caring about the buttons that pop off in his haste.

"You drive me crazy," he mutters, lifting you up against the wall and grinding his cock against your wetness. "Watching you in the crowd, knowing you're mine... it makes me want to take you right there." You wrap your legs around his waist, clinging to him as he bites and sucks at your neck. "Take me now," you whisper, digging your nails into his shoulders. "I'm yours to claim."

He thrusts into you in one swift motion, groaning at the tightness of your pussy. "Always so wet for me," he grunts, setting a punishing pace as he pounds into you against the wall. Seungcheol's strength and stamina are evident in his rough lovemaking, his powerful body slamming into yours with every thrust. He's strong enough to hold you up against the wall with one arm, the other hand moving to rub your clit as he fucks you.

"You feel so good," he growls, his voice rough with exertion. "Like a dream come true." You can feel the power in his muscles as he holds you, his body rippling with tension as he approaches his climax. The cut on his lip has started to bleed again, the metallic taste of blood mingling with the salt of his sweat as he kisses you hungrily.

"Cum for me," he commands, his fingers working faster on your clit. "Let me feel you squeeze my cock." You gently stroke Seungcheol's face, mindful of his injuries despite the intensity of the moment. Your touch is tender and soothing, a contrast to the rough passion that's consuming both of you.

"Beautiful," you murmur, tracing the lines of his face with your fingertips. "My champion." The tenderness in your voice makes Seungcheol's eyes soften for a moment, his expression vulnerable beneath the layers of masculinity and strength. He leans into your touch, his movements becoming more gentle as he pushes you closer to your orgasm.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice cracking slightly as he fights to hold back his own climax. "More than anything." Seungcheol buries his face in your neck as he struggles to maintain control, his breath hot against your skin. "You're too good to me," he mutters, his voice thick with emotion. You can feel his body trembling with the effort of holding back, his muscles taut as he tries to prolong your pleasure. "Let go for me," you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. "I want to feel you lose control."

He growls low in his throat, his hips stuttering as he finally lets go. "I'm going to fill you up," he groans, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you with his cum. You follow him over the edge, your body convulsing around him as you come hard. The two of you stay connected for a moment, breathing heavily as you come down from your high.

Seungcheol slowly pulls out of you and carries you to the bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed. He curls up beside you, his body still trembling slightly as he holds you close. You cuddle up to Seungcheol, your bodies fitting together perfectly as he holds you close. He nuzzles your neck, inhaling deeply as he breathes in your scent.

"I'm sorry if I was too rough," he murmurs, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your skin. "I just... I needed you so badly after the fight." You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You were perfect," you assure him. "Always are."

Seungcheol smiles softly, his eyes closing as he relaxes against you. "I'm lucky to have you," he says quietly. "You keep me grounded when I feel like I'm on top of the world." You run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp soothingly. "And I'm lucky to have a champion like you," you reply, your heart full of love and pride. "To call my own."

[lynbels]

25 jungwon pls pls pls

looks deceive - yjw (m)

#25: The quiet nerd turns out to be anything but shy, using your body like it’s his.

pairing: jungwon x reader - prompt req list

synopsis: You spent months teasing Jungwon for being the quiet nerd in class—until one night he finally snapped, and you learned exactly how wrong you were about him. ✉️ 3782wc

‼️tw: slight bullying, dubcon vibes, dominance, manhandling, degradation (light), oral (m receiving), rough sex, creampie, praise, possessiveness, spanking, slight hair pulling, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies guys)

💌: no because I totally imagine this happening good jungwon by day evil jungwon by night 😈

You weren’t a mean girl, not really. Just…a little playful. Maybe a little too playful when it came to the nerdy boy who sat in the back of your Chemistry class.

Yang Jungwon.

Blonde hair always perfectly parted, button-down shirts always ironed stiff, and those stupid little glasses perched on the bridge of his nose—he was practically begging for it. He didn’t even talk back when you and your friends joked about him. He just sat there, quietly scribbling formulas with that pretty hand of his, pretending not to hear the way you laughed.

“You think he’s a robot or something?” your friend Hana giggled one afternoon, chin propped on her hand as she watched Jungwon flip through his notes. “Bet he’s never even held a girl’s hand.”

You snickered behind your palm. “Held? I bet he’d pass out if a girl even looked at him for too long.”

It wasn’t personal. It was harmless, you told yourself. Jungwon was just…so easy to tease. Always so quiet, so polite, so desperately nerdy. He wore khaki pants for god’s sake. Khakis. In high school.

Sometimes you’d catch him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking—soft, wide-eyed stares, like he couldn’t believe you were real. It only made it funnier. You’d smile sweetly at him on purpose, wave too enthusiastically, lean a little too close when asking him a question during group projects, just to watch his face flush scarlet and his glasses fog up.

The poor boy was so easy to break.

And you weren’t the only one who noticed. Your whole group kind of adopted it as a game at this point: how fast could you fluster Jungwon? How pink could you get his cheeks? How many stuttered responses could you collect like trophies?

“He’s like…a pet,” your other friend Minji whispered one time after a pop quiz. You had just tapped Jungwon’s shoulder and thanked him (loudly) for “helping you study”—which he hadn’t—and the boy had practically short-circuited on the spot. “Like a little lost puppy.”

You’d laughed then, flipping your hair over your shoulder, feeling every bit the queen bee you were supposed to be. Jungwon was safe. Harmless. He wasn’t like the cocky jocks or the bad boys you flirted with sometimes—he was soft, easy to control, easy to tease.

Or at least…that’s what you thought.

Until one afternoon, everything changed.

You were sitting at your desk, lazily twirling a pen between your fingers, when you felt a shadow fall across your table. You looked up, blinking.

It was Jungwon.

He stood stiffly in front of you, clutching a neatly organized folder to his chest like a shield. His blonde hair was slightly messy today, a few strands falling across his forehead. His glasses slipped down his nose a little, and he pushed them up nervously with one finger.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Lost, Jungwon?”

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something—but then stopped, his throat bobbing with a hard swallow. His hands fidgeted against the folder, knuckles white from how tightly he gripped it. You could see the tips of his ears turning red.

Cute.

“I, uh…” He coughed lightly, adjusting his glasses again. “I…thought you might need help. For the chemistry assignment. Since…you asked…before.”

You blinked.

You hadn’t actually asked him for help—you’d teased him about it, sure, but it was all in good fun. You were popular, and smart enough to get by without tutoring from the class nerd. But now, standing there in front of you, Jungwon looked so serious. So determined, despite how nervous he clearly was.

You could feel Minji and Hana watching from across the room, barely containing their laughter. You gave them a quick glance—watch this—before turning back to Jungwon with your most dazzling smile.

“That’s sweet, Jungwon,” you said, voice dripping honey. “You’re worried about me?”

He flushed deeper, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I just…you seemed like you might…um…need help.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to hold back a laugh. God, he was so easy.

Leaning forward on your elbows, you rested your chin in your hand and looked up at him through your lashes. “Are you offering to be my private tutor?”

His lips parted slightly, like the words got stuck in his throat. His glasses fogged a little again. “I—uh—I guess. If you want.”You smiled wider, loving the way his voice shook.

“Aw,” you cooed mockingly, loud enough for your friends to hear. “You’re so sweet, Jungwon. Are you always this nice to girls who bully you?”

Behind you, Hana snickered into her hand.

For a moment, Jungwon didn’t say anything. He just stood there, folder clutched tight to his chest, face burning. His eyes flickered to your mouth for a second—so quick you almost missed it—and then dropped to the floor again.

You tilted your head, smirking. So predictable.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” you added, voice low enough that only he could hear it. “Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you buy me coffee after tutoring too.”

He said nothing. Just nodded stiffly, turned on his heel, and practically fled to the other side of the room.

You and your friends broke into giggles immediately.

“Poor thing’s gonna have a heart attack,” Minji whispered, wiping a tear from her eye. “Y/N, you’re evil.”

You smiled lazily, twirling your pen again. It was just harmless fun. Jungwon would never do anything about it. He was too shy, too sweet.

He’d stay quiet. Like he always did.

…Right?

You didn’t think about it much when you got the text later that day.

[unknown number]: you forgot your textbook. rm 3b.

[unknown number]: i can bring it if u want.

You stared at the messages, confused for a second—until you realized it had to be Jungwon. Of course it was. Who else would be that polite about a stupid forgotten book?

You texted back a half-hearted ok, already smirking to yourself. God, he’s desperate, you thought. He was really going out of his way for you now. It was almost pathetic.

You made your way to Room 3B after the last bell, the hallway practically deserted. Most people had already left for the day, leaving only the low hum of distant footsteps and the occasional squeak of sneakers on tile.

When you pushed open the door, the room was dim, the late afternoon sun spilling in long, golden streaks across the floor.

And there he was.

Jungwon stood by your desk, your chemistry textbook in hand, head bowed slightly. His blonde hair caught the light, making it look almost soft around the edges. He wasn’t wearing his blazer anymore—just the white button-up, the sleeves pushed up a little—and it made him look…different. More casual. More real.

You stepped inside lazily, the door clicking shut behind you.

“Wow,” you teased lightly, crossing your arms. “You really take your job as my tutor seriously, huh?”

He didn’t laugh.

Didn’t even smile.

He just looked up at you—and for the first time, you noticed something different in his eyes. Something that made your skin prickle a little.

He wasn’t nervous.

Not anymore.

“You forgot this,” he said simply, voice low and even.

You walked closer, letting your bag slide off your shoulder onto a chair. “Thanks, Professor Jungwon,” you joked, reaching for the book.

But instead of handing it to you, he held onto it—just out of reach.

You frowned. “What are you doing?”

For a second, he just looked at you, head tilted slightly like he was studying something.

Then he smiled.

Not the shy, awkward smile you were used to.

No, this one was slower. Lazier. A smile that knew things. Dangerous things.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he said, voice still light but edged with something sharper underneath. “Messing with me. Laughing at me with your little friends.”

You blinked, heart skipping once, confused. This wasn’t…this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“I mean…” you said slowly, trying to summon that same teasing tone. “Maybe a little?”

Jungwon stepped closer.

You instinctively backed up—only to feel the desk press against the backs of your thighs.

You opened your mouth to say something else—to crack another joke, maybe, to turn the moment back into something safe—but before you could, he set the textbook down carefully on the desk beside you.

And caged you in with both hands, palms flat against the wood.

You stared up at him, breath caught.

His eyes, usually so soft, were burning now. Sharp and focused, like he was seeing right through you. His body was so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, suffocating, dizzying.

“You think you can just say whatever you want to me,” he said softly, so close you could feel his breath fan across your lips. “Laugh at me. Flirt with me. Make me look like a fool.”

You swallowed hard, every nerve in your body standing on end.

“I—It was just a joke,” you said quickly, but your voice wavered.

Another slow, dangerous smile.

“Yeah?” he murmured. “Well, here’s the thing, Y/N.”

He leaned down, mouth brushing your ear.

“I’m done being the joke.”

You froze, your whole body tensing, but Jungwon didn’t give you any time to think.

One hand slid from the desk to your waist, fingers digging in just hard enough to make you gasp. He pressed his body closer, chest against yours, so you could feel just how much bigger and stronger he really was.

“You’re so loud usually,” he whispered, voice smooth and dark against your ear. “Where’s all that attitude now, huh?”

You squirmed, but it only made him grip you tighter, pinning your hips against the desk.

“You thought you were in control,” he murmured, dragging the tip of his nose down the side of your throat, inhaling like he could smell your fear. “Laughing with your friends. Acting like you were better than me.”

You whimpered—quiet and unintentional—and he chuckled low in his chest.

“Not so funny now, is it?”

Slowly, torturously slow, he trailed his hand up your side, brushing under the hem of your shirt, fingertips feather-light against your bare skin. Your breath hitched, and he smiled against your neck.

“You like this,” he said quietly, almost like he was marveling at the realization. “You like when I’m mean to you.”

You shook your head automatically, but Jungwon just laughed again, dark and soft.

“Liar.”

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to look at him.

His eyes were molten now, dark and hungry, and you shivered under the weight of his stare.

“I should make you beg,” he whispered, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. “Make you apologize for being such a little brat.”

Your lips parted, desperate to say something—anything—but no words came out.

“You gonna be good for me now?” he asked, almost gently, dragging his thumb slowly across your bottom lip. “Or do I have to teach you a lesson?

You whimpered again, nodding weakly.

His smile widened, all sharp teeth and dangerous promise.

“Good girl.”

Without warning, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you up onto the desk, spreading your legs with his knees. The sudden movement made you squeak, grabbing onto his shoulders for balance, but he didn’t let you go—he loomed over you, hands gripping your waist possessively, like he owned you.

“Show me,” Jungwon said, voice so soft it barely made a sound. “Get on your knees.”

You blinked up at him, heart racing, and whispered back without thinking, “W-What?”

He just stared down at you, unblinking, fingers tightening at your waist like a warning.

“On your knees,” he repeated, firmer now, and when you hesitated for half a second longer, he grabbed your chin and guided you down slowly, almost gentle, until your knees hit the floor with a quiet thud against the carpet.

“Jungwon…” you whispered again, voice small, but he didn’t budge.

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Pretty,” he murmured. “So pretty when you’re quiet.”

You bit your lip, cheeks burning, and breathed out shakily, “I-I don’t know what you want me to do…”

A small, dangerous smile played on his lips. “You’ll figure it out.”

With slow, deliberate movements, he unbuckled his belt, the soft clink making your stomach twist in anticipation. You couldn’t look away—couldn’t even think—your mouth already watering slightly as he tugged his jeans down just enough, freeing his cock, hard and thick and leaking at the tip.

You whimpered, staring, and your thighs instinctively pressed together.

“You want it, don’t you?” he whispered, thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

You nodded frantically, voice barely a breath. “Y-Yeah… I want it.”

“Then open up,” he ordered, and his voice was so calm it made your whole body shudder.

You parted your lips obediently, heart thundering, and he slid the tip against your tongue, teasing you slowly, making you feel every inch.

“Good girl,” he praised in a low growl. “Keep those pretty eyes on me.”

You whimpered again, looking up at him through your lashes, desperate to make him proud, desperate for him to keep saying those things to you.

“You’re so good, Jungwon,” you whispered around him, voice muffled and needy.

A dark flush colored his cheeks at your praise, but he didn’t let up, sliding deeper with slow, shallow thrusts, one hand threading into your hair to hold you there.

“That’s it,” he murmured, hips rocking slowly. “Such a good little mouth… made for me.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes from the stretch, but you forced yourself to stay still, to let him use you like he wanted. You wanted it. You wanted him.

“You look so good like this,” he breathed. “Bet you never thought you’d end up on your knees for me, huh?”

You whined around him, the humiliation and heat rushing through your body too much to handle.

“Didn’t know you’d be so mean,” you managed to mumble out when he pulled back a little, your voice wrecked and breathless.

He chuckled lowly, thumb brushing away a tear that slid down your cheek.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, baby,” he whispered.

You nodded, so desperate, so wrecked already. “Please…” you whimpered. “Please, Jungwon… I want you…”

His jaw flexed, his control visibly snapping.

“Fuck,” he muttered, hips jerking forward as he pushed deeper into your mouth, making you choke slightly.

You pulled back with a gasp, panting, and he immediately stroked your hair gently, calming you.

“Shh. You’re doing so good, pretty girl,” he praised. “You’re perfect.”

You looked up at him, tears in your lashes, spit glistening on your lips.

“I want to be good for you,” you said, voice wobbling.

“You already are,” he whispered, dragging his cock slowly across your tongue again.

You shivered, feeling your whole body light up at his words.

He tightened his grip in your hair, sliding himself back into your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts, using you like he had every right to.

And you let him. Whimpering, obeying, looking up at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

Because he owned you now. And you didn’t want it any other way.

You barely had time to catch your breath before Jungwon yanked you up from the floor, strong hands gripping your waist and shoving you back against the couch. His body pressed flush against yours, caging you in.

“You’re not done,” he muttered, voice low and dark in your ear. “I’m not done.”

You whimpered, nodding without even thinking, your thighs squeezing together at the way he looked at you — like he was starving and you were the only thing he could eat.

He grabbed your chin roughly, tilting your head up so you couldn’t look away from him. His eyes, usually so soft and sunny, were blown wide and black with hunger.

“Look at you,” he whispered, breath hot against your cheek. “Already fucked out and I haven’t even gotten started.”

You tried to say something—tried to beg—but he didn’t give you the chance. In one swift movement, he manhandled you onto the couch, forcing you onto your back, and tugged your panties down your legs without ceremony.

“Spread those legs for me, pretty,” he murmured, voice steady but ragged with want.

You did, shakily, heart pounding so hard you could barely breathe.

He tugged his jeans down just enough, cock hard and leaking, and lined himself up without warning. You felt the blunt, thick head of him pressing against your entrance, and your breath caught.

“You ready?” he rasped.

You nodded desperately, nails digging into the cushions.

“Use your words,” he ordered, tapping the inside of your thigh sharply.

“Please,” you gasped out. “Please, Jungwon, I want it—need it—”

That was all he needed.

He slammed into you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt, and you screamed — high-pitched and choked, the stretch overwhelming. Your whole body arched off the couch at the sudden, merciless intrusion.

“Fuck, so tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth, holding himself still for a second, letting you feel every inch of him. “Feels too good. Gonna fuck you so stupid, baby.”

You sobbed, legs trembling around his hips, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes.

He didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled out halfway and slammed back in hard enough to make the couch creak beneath you. Again. Again. Hard and deep and punishing, every thrust knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“You wanted to tease me?” he grunted, voice still soft and deadly in your ear. “Wanted to be a brat in front of your little friends?”

You nodded frantically, whimpering, barely coherent under the relentless pace.

“Bet you don’t feel so cocky now, huh?” he whispered, punctuating every word with another deep thrust.

You tried to answer but all that came out was a broken moan.

He chuckled low under his breath, slowing down just enough to drag himself out painfully slow before slamming back in to the hilt, making you cry out.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he licked a tear off your cheek and murmured, “Poor thing. Too much?”

You shook your head wildly, clinging to him.

He kept going until your whole body was trembling, until your nails carved angry red lines down his back, until you were sobbing his name like it was the only word you knew.

Finally, when your legs gave out completely and you sagged into the cushions, he slowed. His hands gentled, cradling you.

Wordlessly, he pulled you into his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. His cock still heavy and hard between your legs, pressed against your soaked folds.

He cupped your face in both hands, smoothing your hair back, and kissed you so softly it almost hurt. You whimpered into his mouth, desperate for him.

“You still want it?” he whispered against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathed, voice wrecked and trembling. “Please.”

He guided you down onto him slowly this time, letting you feel every thick inch stretch you open again.

You gasped, clinging to his shoulders, tears brimming in your lashes again from the slow, aching fullness.

“That’s it,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Take all of it. You’re doing so good.”

He rocked you on his cock gently, holding you close, whispering filthy things in your ear the whole time.

“Feel how deep I am, baby? You were made for this… made for me to fuck you like this.”

You whimpered, biting his shoulder to muffle your sobs of pleasure as he guided your hips, slow and deep and overwhelming.

“Never teasing me again,” he whispered, smiling against your hair. “Not unless you want this.”

You nodded desperately, grinding down against him, so full you could barely think.

“You’re mine to fuck,” he murmured, dragging his cock against that sensitive spot inside you, making you jolt in his lap. “Mine to ruin.”

You came apart in his arms, sobbing his name into his shoulder, shaking and gasping. He held you through it, never stopping, whispering praise into your ear until you completely fell apart.

And when he finally followed, spilling deep inside you with a low groan, he didn’t move away.

He just held you, rocking you gently in his lap, brushing kisses across your temple, your jaw, your mouth.

Like he hadn’t just broken you completely.

Like he was never gonna let you go.

The next morning, you could still feel it — a dull, delicious ache between your thighs with every step you took. Your body was sore, your neck littered with faint bruises you tried—and failed—to cover with makeup, and your heart raced every time you even thought about Jungwon.

Which was a problem. Because you were sitting across from him in class, and he kept sneaking little glances at you from behind his glasses, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips whenever your eyes met.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, clenching your thighs together under the desk, cheeks burning.

“What’s up with you?” one of your friends whispered, elbowing you in the side during lecture.

“Huh? N-nothing,” you stammered, staring down at your notes so hard the lines blurred together.

Another girl leaned over. “Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?”

“I don’t,” you protested weakly, adjusting your jacket to hide the faint purple marks blooming down your throat.

They weren’t convinced.

“You’re acting weird,” the first girl said, wrinkling her nose. “Like…all shy and jumpy. Did something happen?”

“No,” you said too quickly, glancing instinctively at Jungwon.

You caught him looking again — but this time, he didn’t look away. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, slow and deliberate, and your stomach flipped.

Oh god.

Your friends caught that look.

They turned, following your gaze, and their jaws dropped.

“Wait. No freaking way,” one of them whispered, half-laughing. “You’re into him?!”

“I—” You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

The other girl snorted. “Since when do you like nerds?”

You shrank into your seat, wishing the floor would swallow you whole. Especially when Jungwon leaned back in his chair casually, spreading his thighs just a little wider under the desk — like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering in your throat.

“Bet he’s not that nerdy when he’s alone with her,” one of your friends joked under her breath, laughing.

Your face flamed.

And across the room, Jungwon smiled lazily at you, like a wolf who knew his prey wasn’t going anywhere.

prompt request list

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Running To You

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, control, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Sister series to Just What I Needed

Summary: You're rescued by a man who you don't even know is a real hero.

Characters: nomad Steve Rogers

Note: a stressed out steve rogers plus a cutie. it bloomed from the theory of Steve's beard being a symbol of his darker side, or a darker state of mind. In the wat that he would usually pride himself on a neat appearance but lets himself go a bit when he's not at his best.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stumble up over the curb as you check the list on your phone. Oops, you should really look where you're going. You steady yourself and giggle at your own clumsiness. For how precise your inventory is, the rest of you is a bit of a clutter.

You dodge through the onslaught of pedestrians and apologise a deep 'hey, lady' thunders through at you. You quickly dip into the store and shield yourself with the door. You gasp and catch your breath, smiling at the associate nearest to you. The organic shop probably isn't the most exciting place to shop but it has most of the ingredients you need. Raw honey, tallow wax, essential oils...

You greet them with a small wave and 'hi' and turn to look at the shelves along the wall. They don't acknowledge you. Most people don't, not that you mind. You keep to yourself.

The door jingles and another customer enters. They pause by the door and look around. They might be lost. It's not unusual for one more person to wander in but usually they don't stay long.

He clears his throat and you do your best to focus on your list. You're going to need a basket. As you go to grab one from the stack, the man faces you. You shy away and stop short of latch onto one of the mesh baskets.

"Excuse me, miss," he holds up a familiar item; a red wallet with white polkadots. It's yours! "I think you dropped this."

"Oh, my, I did," you give a sheepish smile to his chest. He's an awfully big man. "Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem," he hands it over.

You accept it and hold it to your chest. You give a tiny shimmy, "thank you so so much!"

You dare to look up and meet his eyes. They're blue but reticent. He scratches his beard as he nods and backs up.

"I think I'm in your way," he grabs one of the baskets and offers it to you.

"Oh, no, but yes, thank you, I need one," you take it.

"Mm, yeah," he smooths out the tuft in his beard that he was pulling on. The hair is thick and coarse; the locks on his head are just as dense, pushed back away from the face, though his chin-length strands try to droop past his ears.

You put your head down and turn back to the shelves. He lingers, seemingly lost as he looks around. What's the odds that in a city like this someone would do something so nice? You look at the list again then peek over at him. He squints at a jar of sourdough starter.

"What do you use in your beard?" You ask then cover your mouth. "I'm sorry, that's not... polite, is it?"

He shrugs, "hm, I just use shampoo, I guess. Face wash?"

"Right. Well, it's pretty shiny." You scrunch up your face. "I'm sorry." You chew your lip in embarrassment. Your cheeks are ablaze. "I'm working on my beard oil. I make it. Um, sell it. But..."

"Beard oil," he repeats thoughtfully. "I don't... I guess maybe I should."

He touches his beard again, a crease between his brows.

"I don't meant to-- I... I'm not... it's cute. I mean. Suits you. I was just--" you show your teeth nervously. "I don't have a beard so..."

"Yeah," he agrees awkwardly and tucks his hair back behind his ears before it can fall forward.

"I ramble..." you drift off and face the shelves again. "I'll stop bothering you."

He inhales and backs up. He turns to the door then stops. You sense his gaze.

"It's a bit busy. Rush hour," he says. "You don't mind if I hide in here with you?"

You glance over. You shrug. "Um, yeah, sure. It's not my store. Not sure how interesting it is."

You fumble between the basket and your phone. You hum and scour the shelves with your eyes, scrunching your nose in concentration. He comes closer.

"What are you looking for?" He asks.

"Soybean oil."

"Soybean oil," he nods. "For..."

"Soap," you cheep.

"Ah. In my day, ma just used fat and lye."

You give his statement a thought. You've seen some recipes from way back. Like long ago. Almost a hundred years now. A lot of people prefer the gentler ingredients.

"Oh, that's cool that she made her own stuff," you muse as you take a canister and tap your spreadsheet to mark off that item.

"Yeah," you feel him trying to see the screen. "You're really organized."

"Can't forget anything," you say.

"Sure." He lurks and looks around before he focuses on you again. "I'm Steve, by the way."

You look at him. He's just as big as the last time you looked. His blue eyes seem uncertain. He can't be afraid of someone like you. You give your name.

"Nice to meet, you, Steve."

"You too," he agrees. "Can I help?"

"Oh, sure. What do you prefer? Rose or Gardenia?"

"Rose is nice," he says.

"I agree," you say and pluck up the small bottle.

"You said you sell stuff?"

"Sure do," you chime. You tuck the bottle into the basket. "You know, you don't have to pretend to care."

"What? I... I'm curious."

You eye him, "well, Steve, I'll believe you, but there's not much to be curious about."

His brows furrow, not so much in agitation, but intrigue. "The beard oil. How much?"

"Oh, you know, I could get you a sample from my hoard. Since you got me my wallet back. You don't have to do all that."

"I want to. I think you right," he runs his hands over his beard. "Needs a bit of taming."

You laugh, "looks good to me. Oh, you can try coconut oil. It's real easy and you can use it in your hair too."

"Coconut oil," he says. "I'll add it to the list. What about yours?"

"Soy wax," you look at your list. "I can use that for lots of things."

He lifts his heads, shoulders wide and straight, looking around on a mission. He strides around the rack behind him and you watch him search a shelf. He picks up two jars. He comes back to you. "Which do you prefer?" He holds up to two different sellers. You take the one in his left hand.

"Thank you," you grin.

"Next," he looks down at your phone.

"Jeez, you sure are helpful," you check again.

"They sell wicks. I need the long ones. Like this." You hold the basket and phone at a length.

He nods again, "on it."

You point him to the corner where they keep the candlemaking stuff and you go back to your own search. He's too quick for you. He has a hole bunch in hand. You have him put half in your basket and he takes the rest back.

Huh, looks like you made a friend.

🎀

Steve holds the door for you. It's so nice you thank him for what must be the dozenth time since you met. Maybe only even an hour ago.

As you get outside, you turn back to him, certain to keep away from the pedestrians who pay no heed to obstacles. "I can take that bag too."

He looks down as the door shuts behind him. "Pretty heavy," he says.

"Oh, I always do that. I forgot my little rolly bag," you shrug. "I can handle it."

"Wouldn't feel right letting you carry it all. Mrs. Rogers didn't raise a punk."

"Is that your mom? I bet she's nice too," you say. "It's alright, Steve. You've done enough. I owe you. My wallet would've been gone with the wind and I never coulda bought all this."

He stares at you, then once more peeks down at the fabric bag. You always bring the reusable; they're much stronger than the paper ones supplied in-store. He chews his lower lip.

"If you owe me, well, you wanna have a coffee? Together?" He asks.

You blink. That's so nice of him too.

"Coffee?" You press your lips together. You feel bad saying no. Not that you want to. It wouldn't be so bad to have someone to sit with. For once. "I don't drink it."

He nods, "tea? Hot chocolate? Water?"

You laugh.

"I'll have a cookie," you offer. "Um," you look up and down the street. "Where..."

"I saw a place. Never been in. Wanna give it a try?"

"Oh, cool. Yeah. I love new places, even if they're scary," you say.

"Here," he takes the other bag from your hands before you can argue. "It's a block back."

"Wait, Steve! I can carry that."

"Not if I'm around," he insists, "come on."

He rolls his shoulder in a gesture for you to follow. You huff and hop into motion. You walk next to him, wary of the oncoming people along the sidewalk. A man nearly bowls you over and you knock into Steve's elbow.

"Oof, I'm sorry."

"Get on the inside of me, doll," he says. "Used to be that people took their hat off when they passed a lady. Now they don't care if... well... you move."

He stops and lets you step across his path. He keeps you between him and the storefronts as he strides on undaunted. You wish you were as brave as him.

"Ah, there it is." He tilts his chin up.

You look ahead. You see the sign sticking out in the shape of a coffee cup.

"Oh, I see it," you hurdle ahead. "My turn."

You pull open the door as he follows. He stops to let another customer out before he enters. You follow him.

"There's a table," he nods.

You follow his gaze to the wall. You lead the way and he trails you. He puts the bags in one of the chairs.

"How about you sit?" He suggests. "What kind of cookie do you want?"

"Oh, Steve, uh," you pull out your wallet, "if they have oatmeal--"

"My treat." He insists.

"You can't do that," you argue.

"You gonna stop me?" He challenges. You gulp and blink at him. You don't think you could stop him from anything. He's quite the figure.

"I guess not." You murmur.

His expression softens, "hey, I'm kidding. I didn't... scare you, did I?"

"N-no," you force a smile. "I appreciate that. Thank you. Oatmeal. That's all."

"Alright. I'll be back." He turns and you see his shoulders rise and fall with a heavy breath.

You sit and jiggle your leg as you look around. You avoid the coffee shops, even the bakeries. They're always so busy. You are methodical in your ventures but today's seems to have gone off the rails. Not in the worst way. One time, you tried to take the subway and ended up lost in the rain.

There's women who look like they could be on a TV show with their fabulous dresses and perfect waves; a man in a suit with his laptop and a single earbud in, and an older couple near the door. There are many others in the line to get a treat of their own.

You turn in the chair and press your palms to the table. You stare at the wood between your hands. You feel the heat speckling over your scalp, that sense of suffocation burrowing into your chest, the voices swirling around you like a raging wind.

"Here," Steve interrupts your internal panic. He places a large cookie before you and mug. "They had this strawberry cream thing. No coffee."

You look at the pink concoction with a dark red swirl in the middle. "Mmmm," you lean forward to admire it. "Wow. It looks good."

He puts his own coffee down and moves the bags under the table. He sits and unzips his jacket to let the tension out of the fabric. You smile and pick up the cookie. You hide behind it.

"I can't eat this alone. It's as big as my face." You giggle. 

You break it in two and offer him half. He eyes it for a moment then accepts it with a thanks. You take a bite then round your eyes at him. He's staring. Oh no. Is that rude? You chew and swallow quickly.

"What?" You hide your mouth behind your hand.

"Nothing. It's just..." he glances around the shop. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" You make googly eyes and cross them. "Is there something on my nose?"

He snorts. "No. There's not." He sighs. "Just haven't had a nice quiet coffee in a while. It's nice."

Your brows pop up and you smile big. "I'm sorry I'm not a big coffee person. I tried it once and it made my belly gurgle."

"It's fine. Bad habit," he taps the handle of his mug with his index finger. "Are you gonna try that cup of sugar?"

"Not much better, is it?" You pick up the mug and blow over it. You put your lips over the brim and taste it cautiously. You hum. "Mm," you pull it away. "Delicious! This is a tummy ache worth having."

His cheek dimples as he watches you. You fidget against his gaze. He's nice but you never had anyone stare at you so much.

[moondustbaby]

Too Much, Never You

Bsf!Rafe x Bsf!Reader Angst to fluff

a/n: based on this request! 💌

Summary: When you overhear Rafe calling you clingy at a party, the words stick like splinters, unraveling something fragile between them. But when the truth finally comes out, you learn maybe you were never too much—just exactly where you belonged.

⸻

You weren’t eavesdropping.

You really weren’t.

It was just bad timing—walking back into the kitchen at the exact moment Rafe said, “She’s just so clingy sometimes, man.”

You froze, fingers tightening around the red solo cup in your hand, breath catching in your throat before you could even think to hide it. The words hit like a slap, sinking into your chest and pulling the air from your lungs.

Topper laughed, but it sounded far away now. “Yeah, but that’s just her, right?”

And Rafe—your best friend since diapers, since scraped knees and late-night sleepovers—just shrugged. Didn’t defend you. Didn’t correct him.

You backed out of the room like a ghost, slipping through the hall and out onto the porch, blinking hard as the warm summer night pressed in around you.

Clingy. That’s what he thought. That’s what he said.

It shouldn’t have hurt so much. But it did.

You barely remember the ride home—just that you didn’t say goodbye, didn’t answer his texts. And by the next morning, he was on your porch.

He knocked once before pushing the door open like he always did. “Okay, seriously—what’s going on with you?”

You didn’t answer, just stayed curled on the couch in his hoodie, arms wrapped tight around your knees. He sighed, walking over until he was standing in front of you, hands on his hips like he was gearing up for a lecture.

But when you finally looked up at him—eyes glassy and tired—his whole face changed.

“What happened?” he asked, voice soft now. “Did someone say something to you?”

“You did,” you whispered.

Rafe’s brows furrowed, crouching down in front of you. “What are you talking about?”

You swallowed thickly. “I heard you last night. In the kitchen. With Topper. You said I was clingy.”

His eyes widened like the puzzle pieces just snapped into place. “Fuck. That’s not—God, no. That’s not what I meant.”

You blinked at him, unsure whether to believe it.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated but desperate. “Topper was talking about that girl he hooked up with—how she kept showing up everywhere after one night. I said you’re different. I said—she’s clingy in a weird way, but you—I don’t even know how to explain it. You’re not clingy. You’re mine. It’s like… you being around isn’t something I get tired of. It’s something I need.”

Your breath hitched. “Then why didn’t you say that?”

“Because I’m an idiot,” he said instantly. “And I didn’t know I hurt you.”

You sniffled, biting your lip. “You didn’t even correct him.”

“I didn’t think I had to,” he said softly. “You’re my best friend. I thought… I thought you knew how much you mean to me.”

You stared at him, heart still aching—but something softer started to push through the cracks.

“Don’t ever say that about yourself again,” he added, brushing your knee. “Clingy? You could call me at 3AM needing to be held like a damn teddy bear and I’d thank you for it.”

A small laugh escaped your lips despite yourself. “You’re such a sap.”

He smiled, eyes warm. “Only for you.”

And when you finally leaned into his arms, burying your face in his chest, you realized it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought.

You weren’t too much for him.

You never had been.

༶⋆｡ﾟ☽✿⋆˚✧✿☾ﾟ｡⋆༶

a/n: ahhh this broke my heart a bit, but also fun to write! especially since i posted my clingy bsf!rafe headcanons it was fun to see it from this perspective!

♥️ lani

Send Me Requests! 💌

Masterlist

[formulaonecrumbs]

I love your Lando series with the home videos and I was wondering if you could do something similar with Oscar but maybe instead of you looking after Lando Oscar’s looking after you. 

my big brother best friend 👫

older brother!Oscar Piastri x reader

summary: reader has a bad day and calls her comfort person, her big brother, oscar.

warnings: NONE ONLY FLUFF

A/N: i’m hoping this is what u meant, like u wanted an older brother version of osc? iddkkkk i had fun writing this one tho. i wanna see oscar with his sisters so bad. also pls tell me someone got the reference in the title :/ ANYWAYS LOVE U MY BABIIIEESSSS ❤️

༻ ❤︎︎ ༺

she doesn’t mean to cry on the phone.

honestly, she hadn’t even meant to call him.

it had just been one of those days—where everything that could go wrong does, but not in big, dramatic ways. it’s the kind of day that chips away at you in tiny, sharp little pieces until you’re left holding nothing but frustration and the urge to crawl into bed and not come out. she hadn’t wanted to bother anyone.

especially not oscar, who was always busy and halfway across the world and doing important things like driving actual formula 1 cars and representing big sponsors and being a grown-up. but when the final bell rang and she was walking out of school, shoulders tight and eyes stinging, her fingers had moved before her brain could stop them.

he picked up on the third ring.

“hey, you okay?”

and that was it.

the second she heard his voice—calm and familiar and soft in that particular way he reserved only for her—everything cracked open. she didn’t sob, not really. it wasn’t dramatic or loud. but her voice wobbled, and a choked little breath escaped, and she didn’t say anything for a solid ten seconds.

but oscar didn’t rush her. didn’t say anything except: “where are you right now?”

and twenty minutes later, he was pulling up in front of her school in a car that definitely wasn’t his usual. low-key, nothing flashy, the kind of thing you rent when you’re just trying to blend in. she blinked at him through the window, startled—because she hadn’t expected him to come. not really. not in person. not like this.

he just gave her a small smile and nodded toward the passenger side.

she didn’t ask questions. she just climbed in.

he didn’t say anything right away. just reached over and gently tugged her seatbelt into place, like he used to do when she was small and too lazy to do it herself. then he sat back, hands relaxed on the wheel, and said, “you feel like maccas? or maybe ice cream?”

her voice was small. “can we do both?”

he glanced at her and grinned. “what kind of question is that? of course we can.”

she smiled, barely. her uniform still felt stiff and itchy, and her bag weighed heavier than usual on her lap, like it was carrying every bad moment from the day in its seams. but the second oscar pulled away from the curb, she felt her shoulders drop just a little.

the silence between them wasn’t awkward. it never had been. they were the kind of siblings who could sit in a room for hours without talking and still feel like everything was okay. so he didn’t push. didn’t ask her what was wrong or why she sounded so broken on the phone. he just turned up the music to a quiet hum, kept the heat on low, and drove.

the mcdonald’s drive-thru wasn’t far, and by the time they reached the second window, she had both a large fries and a mcflurry in her lap, plus a chicken nuggets box open between them. oscar pulled into a quiet lot around the corner and parked under a big tree, the branches bare and tapping lightly against the roof like the wind was trying to say something.

she didn’t start talking until she was halfway through her fries.

“i bombed my english essay,” she said, not looking at him. “like, properly bombed it. and mrs. harvey was so… disappointed. like i could hear it in her voice, and then she just kept saying how she ‘expected better’ and how i ‘wasn’t applying myself.’ and then after class, these two girls said i only got into school because of your name and because we’re ‘well-connected’ or whatever. i didn’t even know what to say.”

she stopped, fries forgotten in her hand.

“i wasn’t even trying to cry,” she added quickly, her voice wobbling again. “i didn’t want to. it just… came out.”

oscar didn’t say anything for a second. then he reached over and plucked one of her fries.

“you want me to go full scary big brother and start showing up at your school like a menace?”

she let out a short, startled laugh. “no.”

“because i’ll do it,” he said seriously, but there was a smile tugging at his mouth. “i’ll show up in a full race suit. visor down. just point me to the mean girls and let me handle it.”

“you’d get arrested.”

“worth it.”

she finally turned to look at him. her eyes were a little glassy, and there was a red mark near her nose from rubbing it too much. she looked younger than she had that morning, like the day had knocked her back a few years. but there was something else too—something warm and safe in her face, like just being in that car with him had given her space to breathe again.

“you didn’t have to come,” she said quietly. “you’re only in the uk for like, two days.”

“yeah, and you called.”

she stared at him. “i didn’t even say anything.”

“you didn’t have to.” he leaned back against the seat, his hand still resting casually on the steering wheel. “i know your voice. i know when it’s good and when it’s not. and if it’s not, then i’m coming. doesn’t matter where i am.”

she didn’t answer right away. she just looked at her mcflurry, then back at him, and then leaned across the console to wrap her arms around his shoulders. it wasn’t a graceful hug—her fries nearly tipped and she banged her elbow into the gear stick—but he didn’t care. he just hugged her back and squeezed gently like he knew exactly how much she needed it.

“thank you,” she said into his hoodie.

he smiled into her hair. “you’re welcome.”

and then, because she was still hugging him and because he could tell she needed something to distract her brain from spiraling again, he said, “also, smarties is the worst mcflurry flavor and you’re wrong for liking it.”

she gasped and pulled back like he’d committed treason. “you take that back.”

“never. oreo supremacy.”

“you’re literally the worst.”

“and yet, i bought you fries.”

she rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now—really smiling. the kind that lit up her whole face. and when he dropped her off at home an hour later, she turned to him at the door and said, “you’ll always pick up when i call, right?”

oscar didn’t even hesitate.

“every time.”

THE END :>

[rebelssvy]

idol pt. 2!! ✧.*

idol reader x pro hero bakugo

ੈ✩‧₊˚

part one link here.

summary: fluff !!! you and him bump into eachother on a late night snack run.

alr have an idea for pt. 3… lmk if i should continue

after the ceremony, bakugou hadn’t really left your mind at all. it was safe to say you were a constant thought in his head too.

though you hadn’t seen or talked to him since, you kept looking forward to him maybe reaching out to you.

it had been about 2 weeks since, you didn’t blame his lack of communication. you were both busy. but you started becoming a little obsessed. watching videos of him saving people, interviews. anything you could find you watched.

it was now around midnight and you had grown hungry in your hotel bed. it was a unspoken forbidden rule to go out without a body guard so late at night. but after checking your pantry you couldn’t resist. grabbing layers and layers of all your dark clothes you pulled them onto your frame. finishing your look with the usual mask and baseball cap.

you didn’t mind getting recognized, but you knew if you saw someone that has bad intentions… you didn’t even want to imagine what could happen.

pushing your fears aside you walked out the hotel lobby and onto the cold pavement. the street lights were dim, but you kept your head down. maps said you had about a five minute walk to the closest 7/11. though it was so late there was still a lot of people out on the town.

after a good five minute walk you had made it to the glorious glowing lights filled with your favorite snacks. still keeping an of-putting demeanor, you entered the store. within seconds you had an armfull.

“hey babe. what’s with all the clothes hiding that pretty body?” a new voice startled you. blanking you looked up to see who was saying such a thing. you of course didn’t recognize him. but he looked… weird. like the people your mom told you to avoid when you were younger.

ignoring him you walked to the cashier, putting your stuff on the counter top.

he followed you, “hey don’t ignore me..” he laughed. closing in on you. you knew you had to get him off your back but you didn’t know how.

turning around about to let yourself have a moment of weakness. the sight you saw shocked you. a man dressed far to similar to you, had grabbed your stalker and had him held down.

“say that shit again and i swear to fucking god i’ll kill you here and now. be a real man and kick rocks” though he was covered in a costume, you could make out that voice anywhere.

it wasn’t long at all before the other man ran of the store scared for his life.

“i could’ve handled it…” you grumbled before adding, “but thank you..king dynamight murder.” laughing at the end of your sentence he looked at you startled.

blankly his eyes stared into yours. he was confused.

pulling your mask down you smiled and said “don’t worry. it’s y/n, but don’t tell anyone.” in a hushed voice.

more shocked then he was before he let out a sigh of relief and shook his head. “god..” was all he said before stepping infront of you. putting his food on the table and putting his card forward. “i’m paying for all of this.”

wow.. what a gentleman.

walking out of the store he carried all of your stuff together in his hands. breaking the ice you joked with him,

“i would’ve thought you would have asked me out by now.. with how interested you seemed that night.”

it was silent for a second.

“i didn’t know if idols dated…” he was hushed. calm.

“i would date you. i started to think hero’s don’t date.” you laughed before taking a step to the way of your hotel. he followed without question.

you walked one minute in silence. though you were scared of what he was going to say, you were also comfortable.

“y/n…” for being so loud he sure seemed quiet around you. “i would like to take you out sometime. you can’t say no.” firm he said to you. it was a promise.

“okay. seems like i can say no.” you joked and laughed. then tugging on his arm to grab some of your chips out of the bag.

you two walked to your hotel, every word that came out of your mouth was followed with a giggle. you felt giddy.

once you got to the entrance you leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“thank you for keeping me safe, bakugou.”

“katsuki.” he corrected you.

“have a good night, kats.” turning you walked to the doors of the building.

“6pm, tomorrow i’ll be here to pick you up. it’s a date.” he shouted out to you.

“okay!! i’ll be ready. goodnight!!” you hollered back at him, while entering the building.

god what was this feeling.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[koyagifs]

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞

pairing: mingi x reader au: 9th member | idol genre: smut word count:2.6 k synopsis: unbeknownst to you, wooyoung had declared war with the others, mingi making the first move. warning(s):MDNI dom!mingi, oral (f. receiving), PUSSY MUNCHER Mingi, oral (m.receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy, MDNI part one here

You wandered into the kitchen, Wooyoung’s shirt hanging off your frame, soft and oversized as it clung to your body in all the right places. Without much thought, you started the coffee maker, fingers moving on autopilot. The front door creaked open, and you barely looked up, mumbling a distracted, “Hey,” to whoever had come in, your eyes still glued to your phone as you doom-scrolled.

Mingi’s eyes lingered on your neck the moment he stepped into the kitchen, the faint marks there making his jaw tense. Jealousy hit him like a wave—sharp and sudden—as irritation bubbled just beneath the surface. He could practically hear Wooyoung’s smug voice in his head, teasing him without even being in the room.

And then, like clockwork, he imagined Hongjoong’s exasperated sigh, the inevitable scolding that would be aimed at both you and Wooyoung for being “irresponsible.” The thought brought a smirk to Mingi’s face despite himself.

Setting his drink on the counter, he made his way toward you, ignoring the buzz of his phone—undoubtedly Yunho blowing it up with a string of dramatic texts. But Mingi had more important things to do.

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you into his warmth as he nestled his face against your neck. You giggled at the sudden affection, your fingers instinctively finding his hand and lacing through it.

“Hi, baby,” you teased, your voice still laced with sleep and the remnants of laughter.

Mingi hummed against your skin, his lips brushing just beneath one of the marks Wooyoung had left. “Wooyoung really did a number on you,” he muttered, the hint of a pout in his voice making you smile.

“You jealous?” you asked, tilting your head slightly to give him better access.

He didn’t answer right away—just pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your neck. “Maybe,” he whispered.

"Maybe?" you echoed, a smile playing on your lips. You turned in his arms, facing him, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Just maybe?" you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingi met your gaze, his eyes darkening with a slow burn of lust and something deeper—possessiveness, devotion. The kind that always simmered just beneath his calm exterior.

"You know I am," he murmured, voice low and gravelly. "You know how I get."

You nodded, your fingers drawing lazy circles on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "I do," you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch without hesitation.

"But you know what else I know?" you said, voice playful now, eyes gleaming as you looked up at him.

He raised an eyebrow, that signature smirk starting to tug at the corner of his lips. "What’s that?"

"You know how to make me feel just as good," you said softly, before leaning in to press a kiss to his lips.

He responded instantly, like he’d been holding himself back just for this—arms wrapping around you, pulling you flush against him. The kiss started slow, lingering, full of heat that simmered just beneath the surface. But then something shifted.

Mingi kissed you harder, like the dam had finally broken—like he was starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy him. His hands gripped your waist with more urgency, your body molded perfectly to his as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head to chase more of you.

You let out a soft gasp against his mouth, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, grounding yourself in him. Mingi didn’t waste a second—his hand slid from your waist to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pushed you gently toward the counter.

You gasped again when your back hit the edge, and before you could catch your breath, Mingi lifted you with ease, setting you onto the cool surface. His body slotted between your legs, hands firm on your thighs as he leaned in again.

“Mingi—” you breathed, but the rest of your thought was swallowed in another kiss, hotter now, fueled by the possessiveness he’d been holding back since the moment he walked in.

His fingers gripped your hips, keeping you steady as he kissed you like he wanted to memorize the shape of your mouth. Like nothing else existed but you in his hands.

Then his lips moved—feverish and determined—from yours to the delicate skin of your neck. He trailed down until he found the marks Wooyoung had left, and without hesitation, began replacing them. His mouth latched onto the spots, sucking harder, slower, leaving behind bruises that were darker, deeper—undeniably his.

Your breath hitched, hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt as you tried to stay quiet. Every drag of his lips against your skin made it harder. You bit your lip, swallowing the moans bubbling in your throat, remembering your other lovers still asleep down the hall. You didn’t want to wake them—not yet.

“Mingi,” you whispered, a plea, a warning, your voice trembling.

You whined softly, the sound slipping out before you could catch it, and Mingi’s low chuckle rumbled against your skin in response. He looked impossibly smug, loving the way you were already falling apart for him.

“Guess I’ll have to keep you quiet myself,” he whispered.

Without warning, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you effortlessly off the counter. You instinctively clung to him, your legs wrapping around his waist as he started toward your room, his lips never straying far from your skin. Each step was accompanied by a playful nip or kiss, making it impossible for you to calm the fluttering in your chest.

The house was still quiet, the others clearly still asleep—or pretending to be. And while a part of you worried about getting caught again, the bigger part of you didn’t care, not when Mingi was looking at you like that.

He kicked your door shut behind him, eyes locked on yours like you were the only thing that mattered.

“Now,” he said, laying you down gently on the bed, “where were we?”

He didn’t wait for a reply, his mouth crashing back down onto yours, his tongue demanding entry. You gasped as he found your tongue, and he took full advantage, exploring your mouth with a hunger that made you whimper. Mingi was quick to take Wooyoung shirt off you, tossing it somewhere in your room. He broke the kiss just long enough to nip at your chin, then trailed his lips down your neck. You arched into him, your breath hitching as he sucked gently at the base of your throat.

His hands were everywhere, sliding over your ribs, cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples into hard peaks. You moaned softly, your hips grinding against him, seeking more friction. He chuckled against your skin, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through your body.

" don't worry pretty, i'm going to take my time with you," he mumbled against your skin.

Mingi's lips left a trail of dark, heated marks down your stomach, each one a branding of his desire. The faint, distant sounds of Hongjoong and your stylist faded into oblivion, drowned out by the pounding of your heart and the raspy intakes of your breath. His lips finally reached your thighs, and he groaned, the vibration sending shivers through your body.

He pushed your legs wider, his strong hands gripping your thighs firmly. His eyes, dark and hungry, feasted on the sight before him. You could feel your pussy clench, eager and ready, the wetness coating your inner thighs. Mingi's breath hitched, a low groan escaping his lips as he took in the sight.

"Fuck," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. His hands slid under your thighs, lifting them slightly, exposing you more to his hungry gaze.

He leaned in, his breath hot on your slick folds. You could feel his tongue, wet and warm, tracing the edge of your thigh, inching closer to your center. His tongue flicked out, tasting you lightly, a tease that made you arch off the bed. He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"So fucking sweet," he murmured, his voice muffled against you.

His tongue delved deeper, parting your folds, tasting your desire. Your hands fisted in the sheets, your back arching as he sucked gently on your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he feasted on you, his hunger insatiable.

Mingi was already rock hard, the moans that left your lip made were music to his ears and he can he hear it all day long. He let out a small hiss when you pulled on his hair, but that didn't deter him from inserting his fingers inside your pussy. A sharp gasp left you and you could feel the smirk form on his lip.

Your body was a live wire, coiled tight and ready to snap. The pleasure built with each expert flick of his tongue, each suckle that sent jolts of ecstasy straight to your core. As you crested the wave, your body tensing and convulsing, Mingi hummed his delight, the vibration sending a chill down your spine. He released your clit with a pop, leaving you gasping and sensitive. His hands gripped your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his fierce, hungry kiss. He swallowed your moans, his tongue dominating yours, claiming your mouth as he claimed your body.

He broke the kiss abruptly, his hands moving to your hips. With a swift, powerful tug, he pulled you up and onto your knees, positioning you in front of him. He sat back on his haunches, his eyes never leaving yours as you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his sweats. You tugged them down, his cock springing free, hard and ready. Your breath hitched at the sight, your mouth watering with anticipation. His hands fisted in your hair, guiding your head down, his voice a low growl.

"Take me in your mouth. Now."

You wrap your fingers around the base of his shaft, looking up at him as you take him deep, your lips stretching around him. You can feel him hitting the back of your throat, and you relax, taking him even deeper. He groans, his hands fisting in your hair, holding you gently but firmly in place. You can feel his cock twitching in your mouth, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You start to move, your head bobbing up and down, your lips and tongue working his shaft, your hand twisting at the base.

You pull off with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock and you smile up at him, your eyes watering slightly. "Fuck, you taste good," you purr, licking your lips.

He growls, his hips jerking forward, his cock sliding back into your mouth. You take him eagerly, your head bobbing faster, your hand pumping in time with your mouth. You can feel his cock swelling, his body tensing, and you know he's close. His grip on your hair tightens, his hips moving faster, his cock fucking your mouth with wild abandon. You moan around him, the vibration sending him over the edge.

Just as he about to cum, he pulled your head up, his hand moving to guide you to the bed. Pushing your head down on the mattress as his other hand moved to guide his cock into your pussy, both of you moaning as he bottomed out. Mingi didn't waste a minute before he began to pound into you, your fingers curling onto your bed sheets as his hands held onto your hips tightly.

Just as he begins to thrust into you, his grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. His cock hits you deep, the sound of his balls slapping against your pussy filling the room. You can feel every inch of him, his cock pulsing inside you, his body slamming against yours.

Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, his pace relentless, his cock driving you wild. He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back, his lips finding the shell of your ear. "You feel so fucking good," he groans, his voice a low growl. His words send shivers down your spine, your body arching against his, your pussy clenching around him.

Your head lolls forward, thick strands of hair framing your face as you gasp for breath. Mingi's cock drives into you, relentless and deep, each thrust shattering your control. His hand snakes around, fingers deftly finding your clit, rubbing it with slow, deliberate pressure. Your body tenses, your muscles clenching around him as waves of pleasure rip through you.

Mingi's grip on your hips is tight, bruising almost, as he fucks you with a savage intensity. He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back, his breath hot on your ear. He reaches up and roughly grabs your hair, pulling your head back and exposing your neck.

“Say my name,” he commands.

Your lips part, but only a choked gasp escapes. Your brain is mush, fogged over by the raw, carnal pleasure coursing through your veins. Your fingers claw at the bedsheets, knuckles white, as you struggle to form words.

Mingi's pace doesn't slow, his hips slapping against yours, the wet sound of his cock fucking you filling the room. His fingers work your clit faster, the sensation almost too much to bear. You're on the edge, teetering on the brink of oblivion.

“I know you can hear me,” Mingi growls, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “Say it. Say my fucking name.”

You gulp. Your vision blurs, stars dancing at the edges. You push down the overwhelming pleasure, scrambling to get hold of yourself.

“ Mingi,” you gasp, your voice barely recognizing it.

“Yes?” He grins, his voice taunting.

“mingi” you repeat, bewildered.

Mingi laughs darkly, his fingers circling your clit faster, his cock pounding into you harder. You’re gone. Lost in the pleasure, lost in him. Your body convulses, your orgasm ripping through you with the force of a tornado. Mingi follows soon after, his grip tightening as he thrusts deep, his cock pulsing as he fills you.

Your body trembled as it settled against the sheets, muscles spent and chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. Mingi’s hands were still on you—gentle now, grounding—as if making sure you didn’t drift too far from him. He leaned in, brushing a kiss to your temple before finally pulling away.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his voice low and affectionate, laced with pride and tenderness. He slipped away to the bathroom, the sound of running water replacing the quiet panting that had filled the room only moments ago.

When he returned, a warm cloth in hand, his expression had softened. He moved carefully, wiping you down with gentle precision, his gaze flicking up every so often to make sure you were okay. The care in his touch, the way he took his time—it said everything he didn’t need to voice.

“You good, baby?” he asked quietly, thumb stroking your thigh.

You gave him a tired, blissful nod. “More than good.”

He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before crawling into bed beside you, pulling the blanket over your bodies. You melted into his arms, your leg thrown over his, fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest.

[clarkeysbedchem]

slut era interlude

harry lewis x fem reader

summary: harry offers to help get over your heartbreak.

warning: mature content (18+ only)

masterlist | main masterlist

Harry hadn’t really been someone you paid much attention to; he was just there. A friend of a friend really, you couldn’t think of a singular conversation you had with him that was more than two words.

But tonight, something was different. Maybe it was the drinks; maybe it was the mess your ex left you in; maybe it was how Harry’s been looking at you all night like he’s seeing you properly for the first time.

You were one too many drinks deep, tucked into a booth away from the others as you drowned in your pities alone. That was until Harry slipped in next you not saying a word, just watching the group dance wildly. His thigh pressed against yours, his hand rests casually on your knee like it had been there many times before as fingers tapped against your skin in a rhythm that drove you crazy.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, "You know," he murmured, his voice low and rough from drinking and shouting over music all night, "I could help you forget about him."

You whipped your head around to look at him, half-laughing, half-shocked, “Yeah?" your response came out like a breath, the word slipping out before you can second guess yourself.

The grin on his face made your stomach flip, "Yeah."

His hand slid higher on your thigh, a slow and deliberate as if he was testing the water. Your breath hitched, as your eyes flickered to where his hand was and back up to his blown pupils. He was so close that you could smell the whiskey on him making your head spin.

"You don’t deserve to sit here feeling like shit because of some idiot," he said, words slurred just enough to be dangerous, "Let me fix it."

Your mind was a blur of Harry's blue eyes, the feeling of his hand on your bare skin, the heavy pulse of the music thudding through your chest. You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you were kissing him desperately, like you need him to breathe.

He groaned against your mouth, deep and guttural, gripping your waist and pulling you into his lap. You gasp when his teeth graze your bottom lip, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue slid against yours in a way that made your whole body shudder.

Around you, the bar keeps buzzing with blurred laughter, clinking glasses but none of it registers. All you could focus on was Harry and the way his hands travelled over your skin like they belonged there.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, tugging you even closer, "You’re driving me mad."

Before your mind could catch up you were being guided out of the booth, Harry’s hand in yours pulling you towards the dark hallway near the bathrooms. He spun you around pushing you against the wall the second you’re out of sight, and his hands were everywhere - your waist, your hips, under your shirt.

"You sure?" he rasped, his forehead pressed to yours, breathing just as ragged you.

"Yes," you whispered, not a second of hesitation. "God, yes."

And after that there was no more talking. Just heat, and hands, and mouths. Harry’s kissing you like he was starving, like he needed you to survive. His hands at the edge of your shirt, dragging it up slightly, and honestly? you didn’t care if anyone saw, you just need him, now.

Every movement was messy and reckless, but it was exactly what you need.

And the second Harry mutters, "Forget about him. Just me. Just us," against your skin, you let yourself believe it.

For tonight anyway.

Harry’s mouth is everywhere possible, your neck, your collarbone, the curve of your jaw. Desperate kisses being pressed to your burning skin like he can’t get enough of you.

Your back hits the wall with a soft thud as he pressed himself into you fully, his body hot and solid against yours. One of his hands slipped up your side and under your shirt, his thumb grazing the underside of your bra. You gasp into his mouth, fingers knotting into his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer.

"You feel so good," Harry gasped, his voice rough and needy. His hands were shameless, sliding under the hem of your jeans, thumbs tracing circles over your hips. You shiver, hips tilting toward him instinctively, needing something, needing him.

He groans low in his throat, feeling you grind against him, "Fuck, y/n," he muttered, forehead falling to rest against yours again. His hips rock into you sending heat sparking through your veins.

"You sure you wanna do this here?" he asked, trailing kisses down your neck, sucking a mark just above your collarbone that made your knees buckle.

You nodded frantically, tugging at his shirt, "Please," you begged, breathless, needy, "I need you."

The way the words tumbled from your mouth made something snap in him. His hand slipped down the front of your jeans without hesitation, fingers finding you through your underwear, making you whimper into his mouth.

"Shit," Harry hissed, feeling how wet you were, "All this for me?"

You whimpered something that might be his name as his fingers teased you slowly through the thin fabric in maddening strokes that made your head fall back against the wall.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

His free hand slips up under your shirt, finally unclasping your bra with a clumsy flick, and his mouth was on you again pressing hot open-mouthed kisses across your chest as his fingers dipped beneath your underwear.

The moan that slipped passed your lips as he touched you for the first time was helpless, coming out louder than you had planned but your brain was too scrambled for you to think straight. Harry lips met yours in a hard kiss muffling your needy sounds, his tongue sliding against yours in the kisses that turned into all teeth and desperation.

"You're gonna be the fucking death of me," he growled against your mouth, two fingers sliding inside you and curling just right making your hips jerk against his hand.

You were barely hanging on, clutching at his shoulders, his hair, whatever you could hold on to as his fingers worked in and out of you expertly bringing you toward the edge. His thumb brushed your clit in devastatingly slow circles, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

"Come for me," Harry muttered, voice dark and completely wrecked, his mouth on your ear. "Wanna feel you lose it."

It only took a few more thrust of his finger before you were falling apart them, muffling your cry against his mouth, your body shuddering through the waves of pleasure.

Harry kept you pinned to the wall through it, kissing you like he never wants to stop, like you're the only thing in the world.

When you finally pull away catching your breath, chest heaving against his, you realize he’s still rock hard - pressed against your hip, his breathing ragged against your bare shoulder. Every nerve in your body still buzzing, but the sight of him desperate, trembling slightly, and needing you lit a whole new fire under your skin.

You smirked, feeling bolder now, tipsy on adrenaline and the way Harry’s still clinging to you like he might fall apart without your touch.

"Your turn?" you whispered, your voice breathy as you brushed your hand lightly over the thick length of him straining against his jeans.

He groaned, a sound so low and broken that it vibrates through your chest, and before you can tease him further, he grabs your wrist - firm but careful - and guides your hand properly into his jeans, pushing past the waistband of his boxers.

"Be a good girl and help me out then," he murmured, pressing his forehead hard against yours, like he’s barely holding it together.

You slid your hand around him, feeling him just how big and hot he was against your palm, and Harry cursed under his breath, hips jolting up into your hand instinctively. His fingers dug into your waist like he needed the grounding, the control, but you felt it slipping from him.

"Fuck, just like that," he moaned, eyes squeezing shut as you start to move your hand slowly, teasingly, dragging your thumb across his tip to smear the precum leaking there.

His pants in your ear, muttering half-formed curses and your name like it’s the only word he knows. Every sharp breath he takes, every broken sound he makes, fueling you, makinh you stroke him harder, faster, feeling him twitch helplessly in your hand.

"Y/n…" he groaned, low and ragged, "Gonna lose it if you keep lookin’ at me like that."

You bit your lip, watching him, his cheeks flushed and jaw tight as his chest heaved against yours, completely under your control. He pressed you harder into the wall, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as you kept working him with your hand.

"You close?" you whispered, biting back a smile as you squeezed him a little tighter, flicking your wrist just right.

He shuddered violently against you, "Fuck, yeah. Shit. y/n."

And then he came undone in your hand, hips jerking against you in tiny, desperate thrusts as he spills over your fingers, gasping your name like a prayer into your neck. You guide him through it, a slow pace and tender words leaving your lips, until he was trembling against you, totally fucked.

He leaned his whole weight against you for a second, breathing hard, forehead still pressed to your shoulder. His hands find your hips again his thumb absent-mindedly drawing shapes into your skin.

"You're trouble," he muttered against your skin with a small laugh. There was no bite behind it, just something warm, almost disbelieving.

You laughed softly, slightly dizzy with the power of it all, with him.

You were both wrecked.

Still pressed against the wall, hearts thundering, limbs tangled, breathing each other in like oxygen. Harry’s forehead resting against yours, and for a long second, neither of you moved.

The distant thrum of the bar seeped back into focus - the music, the laughter, the clatter of glasses. You blinked up at him, dazed, and Harry gives you a crooked smile.

His fingers brushed your cheek, gentler now, tracing the curve of your jaw like he couldn’t quite believe you were real, "You alright?"

You gave a small nod, still too breathless to speak, and Harry leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. It was different now, it wasn’t frantic or not desperate. It was warm and steady, his thumb stroking your cheek like he was trying to calm you down, ground you.

"Come on," he murmured after a moment, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, "Let’s get out of here, yeah?"

You barely managed a nod before he laces his fingers with yours and tugging you toward the exit. You catch a glimpse of your friends across the bar - no one’s noticed you’re gone, too deep in their own drunken chaos.

The cool night air hit you like a slap, but Harry's hand tightened around yours, keeping you steady. He pulled out his phone with the other, ordering an Uber with fumbling fingers while you both giggled like teenagers sneaking out past curfew.

Minutes later, you were bundled into the backseat of an Uber, crammed close together, the space crackling with something electric and new. Harry slouched low, spreading his legs wide, and pulling you into his side without a second thought.

You dropped your head to his shoulder, suddenly so tired that your eyelids felt heavy. His arm loops around you, hand resting low on your hip, fingers idly tracing patterns against your side.

"You’re so pretty," he mumbled into your hair, his breath warm against your temple, "Dunno why he ever let you go."

Your throat tightened unexpectedly. You turn your face into his neck, inhaling the scent of him and squeezed your eyes shut.

"He's an idiot," Harry said firmly, voice thick with sleep but something else, "You deserve better."

You shifted slightly, looking up at him, and he met your gaze, his eyes bright even in the dim cab light.

"Like you?" you whispered, half-teasing, half-terrified.

He chuckled, "Yeah," he replied, no hesitation, "Like me."

You stared at each other for maybe a beat too long, and then Harry lent down, kissing you again slowly, sweetly and a little clumsy.

By the time the cab pulled up outside his building, you were half asleep on his chest, and he was rubbing circles into your back, murmuring nonsense under his breath.

Harry paid the driver, pulling you into his side again, and lead you upstairs.

And when he pulled you into his bed, curling himself around you like you’re something precious that needed to be protected, you realized that you weren’t thinking about your ex at all anymore.

Only Harry and he held you like he already knows he’s never letting go.

taglist: @jamiekluivert @reidyourpalms @roc-haze @whisperturnedecho @graceln4 @dopeysunflowers @super-gay-for-u @bethorwhateverr @livvymd @lilyyxoii @4ngelrealm @kiyoomology @canyouseethesainz @happyclifford @golden-hoax

[bandgie]

A Violet Exchange

warnings! MDNI18+, chastity, strap-use (f!rec), mating press, grinding, multiple orgasms (f!rec), sounding mentions

notes! this has been on my head for a few days. thought I should bring it to life

Pain doesn't exist in Changbin's world. All he can focus on are your soft hips, how he softly guides them up and down his caged cock. You're holding onto those broad shoulders so tightly. The manicured fingernails he paid for dig into his flesh harshly, but pain just doesn't exist.

It should though. Not because of your unforgiving grip, not even because of how you bite and suck on his neck, but his because of dick. Locked and stuffed tightly in a cage much too small for him. For hours, it's only been leaking. For hours, it's been teased but never touched. The most stimulation Changbin gets is your soft folds grinding on his sack.

Not that he complains. Your boy never complains. He's drooling from the corner of his mouth with those pretty eyes crossed as if you were riding him. The curls of his dark hair plastered his forehead from earnestly trying to feel anything on his cock. Still, he won't say peep - won't even make it noticeable - because your pleasure is that much more important.

You've already came on him. That white, sticky cream sticking and frothing every time you slide against his balls, but you need more. He wants you to need more.

When you shake, beautiful body trembling in his gasp with even more beautiful moans, he knows you've reached your climax again.

He can feel the warmness of your cunt sticking onto him. The way it seeps onto his cage and bedsheets. He wants it so bad. The need is so terribly bad that just the thought of sinking into your wet heat makes his hips shoot upwards.

A small sound escapes - a shaky inhale nixed with a laugh.

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Such an impatient boy."

No, he's good. Changbin's being so good. Even when you move off him and gesture to the drawer, he doesn't make a peep. Changbin obediently reaches for the nightstand and pulls out his substitute. A purple dildo that attaches to a harness just for him. He feels you watch with hungry eyes as he puts on the harness, adjusting the fake cock just above his caged one before locking it into place.

Maybe it's humiliating, fucking you with this dildo rather than the real thing, but he loves how your eyes light up. How eagerly you grip the base and stroke just like you would if it was his.

And tonight, it is.

You're settling your back onto the bed, legs spread with your pretty hands guiding the cock. Changbin takes over at that point. He slaps it against your folds until he sees the strings of arousal clinging to it. Your body jerks, still sensitive from your previous orgasms. A deep moan pulls from you when he grinds the strap against your pussy. Wet, sticky, and everything perfect.

Changbin swears he can feel it. How the ridges of 'his' cock slide against your slit. How your clit twitches under the head of it. He moans with you, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he finally gets to feel your warm heat.

And when he sinks in, all his composure is lost. Your pussy gives so easily. So needy that he's chasing that high at the cost of your sanity. Thick fingers keep your thigh spread. The constant bumping of his strap on your cervix has you nearly screaming. Changbin's trying to get deeper. He's really trying to fool himself into thinking he's really fucking you. It's only a matter of time until your knees are pushed to your face, Changbin's feet planted onto the bed while he fucks you hard into a mating press.

You can feel his balls and restrained cock slapping on your ass. With how deep he's managed to get inside, you can't even tell him you're cumming. All you can manage are those hiccups Changbin always manages to reduce you to with desperate gasps for air.

He feels it though. Real or not, he can feel it all. The pulsing of your walls, how much creamier and slicker the sounds have gotten. If he really wants to confirm, he can look down to see how much of your white sweetness has coated the purple dildo.

And seeing it - your orgasm and how your pussy stretches for him - he cums. He thinks he does at least. Something hot bursts in his stomach and he swears he can feel that hot seed spurting out of his and deep into your cunt. His hips stutter, his mouth goes slack with uncontrolled moans, and he swears something wet drips down his leg.

It's only when he pulls out - albeit, hesitantly - that he sees he did cum. It runs from the slit of his chastity belt down to his thick thighs.

You smile when you see, easing the guilt off Changbin's muscular shoulders. He leans into your tired body, kissing and trying to feel every inch of your skin with his shaky hands.

"You know," you say once the cum has turned tacky and flaky. "You weren't supposed to cum at all."

Changbin's turns such a cute pink that you can't help but kiss the tip of his nose.

"Have you ever heard of sounding?"

[ippilulu]

To Be Seen - a Caleb drabble

a/n: Just me thinking about how at the end of the day, Caleb was just human. A little boy who voluntarily took on the weight of his world. Always the one being depended on, never the one who would depend on another. What does he do with all the feelings that he never lets see the light of day?

Caleb was familiar with resentment. For someone who banished it as soon as even the very thought of it entered his head, he was unwillingly quite familiar with it. Because in the end, his gravity evol didn't work inside him, unfortunately. It didn't let him erase all of those uncomfortable truths into a black hole.

It was always "Caleb, do this for me.", "Caleb, I want that!", "You're such a good brother, Caleb.", "Please, you're the only one who can!" Smile after smile after smile, an easy, effortless nod- a "Sure, why not?" following right after.

He's not complaining, of course. This was all his fault- he was the one insecure enough to let people pull him in all the directions they were going, losing parts of him as they did. How could he blame them for something he was so careful they wouldn't see?

He always wanted people to see the Caleb who smiled like he had all the answers in the world. Not the one broken by it. Not the one holding the weight of it, trying to hold onto her- his world.

After all, nobody would want Caleb the troublemaker, Caleb the whiner, Caleb the child. He'd buried those versions of him long ago when he'd vowed to become her shield, and he never regretted it once. If he could, he'd do it again. It was all for her. But some days... some days it got too much to keep hidden even from himself.

"...Caleb? You alright?" He shook his head, an instant smile appearing on his face. "Hey pipsqueak. Remembered I exist today, did you?" She rolled her eyes and hit him on the head. "You dummy, stop trying to hide it from me. What's wrong?"

The glimmer of worry in her eyes felt like a personal failure. How dare she ever have to worry about anything?, when he was still around?

But before he could deny it, she hugged him, leaning into the side of his hair. Her soft breathing fluttered some of the longer strands on top.

"What happened, Caleb?" He powers down his megawatt smile- there was no point to it anymore.

Caleb sighed. Hesitated. Planned out what to say. "... I... I don't know. I'm just..." Her hands gently scratched his scalp, and he huffed in laughter as he realised she was treating him like a cat.

"Caleb, could you run and get me some cinnamon?" She was staring at him so she immediately noticed the brief glimpse into his real feelings. "Sure, grand-" "Grandma, let me! I need to run a bit-getting really antsy stuck inside all day." The old voice resounded from the kitchen. "Sure, dear."

"Pip... What are you doing?" She got up, patting her muscles proudly. "These are gonna help me take real good care of you today."

Caleb flustered slightly, hiding it in another moment. "Woah there. You've gained what, and already showing off, huh?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, to which she rolled her own eyes and pat his head. "Get some rest, Caleb. You're exhausted." He shook his head, smiling again. "Nope! Slept a full five hours yesterday, so I'm all ready to go." She raised her eyebrows briefly, but shook her head.

"I'm not talking about now."

Oh.

Something within him loosened, just a bit. It felt so nice to be seen.

Reminder to everyone who reads this that you all deserve someone who sees you, and acknowledges every part of you. Don't bottle up those negative feelings in fear of pushing people away. I'm in the same boat, and it sucks. It's scary to even think about anything else, I know, but we can do this together 🫂 I'll be rooting for you!

[bullet-prooflove]

Slut: Frank Langdon x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @julessworldd @yousigned-upforthis @travelingmypassion @julius-ceasar

Companion piece to:

Hypocrite - Frank struggles to make amends for a past wrongs.

Crash - Almost getting you fired wasn't the lowest point of Frank's addiction.

Rock Bottom - Frank hits rock bottom when he sees the devastation his addiction's caused.

Little Black Dress - Frank starts to spiral when he realises you're dating.

Every Damn Day - A drunk text leads to a confession.

Wet Dream (NSFW) - Frank sometimes dreams about the life you had together.

War Stories - A realisation about your coping habits leads you to Frank's door.

The Three Cs - Frank and you finally discuss your issues and pave away towards the future.

The Wall - A date at the climbing wall leads to a revelation from Frank.

Commitment - You create a fun way of showing Frank your commitment to the relationship.

All In (NSFW) - You and Frank take a big step forward.

Frank is a slut for you.

He always has been.

It’s why you have him tied to the bed right now, wrists bound to the headboard with those silk straps you bought together in that sex shop on Mcknight.

“Don’t be gentle with me.” He warns you, tugging at the restraints, testing the knots. “I don’t need that tonight.”

“You are at my mercy.” You remind him, your fingers threading though his hair and yanking at the roots. He hisses through his teeth at the sensation as your nose trails along his. “And since it’s your first time in a while we’re going to take it slow.”

“Come on Ivy.” He drawls, his vibrant blue eyes meeting yours. “We both know I can take it.”

“Frank, it’s a non-negotiable.” You murmur, pulling his hair again, making his hips buck at the motion. “We both also know how you get a little masochistic streak when you lose a patient. I will give you what you want but we need to do it safely. Now are you going to shut the fuck up or do I need to gag you?”

“You want me to be quiet you’re gonna have to make me.” He says with that feral smile.

“You really are being a little brat tonight.” You tease as you reach into the bottom drawer of your nightstand and pull out the gag, the one with the silicone dick that fits perfectly between his lips. His eyes brighten with excitement and he squirms against the restraints at the prospect of having his smart mouth filled. “Oh I see, it needs to be all your holes does it?”

You trail the tip of the dildo over his lips and he tries to jerk his head away as you force the tip between them. You grasp his jaw tightly and he whines as the cock infiltrates his mouth inch by inch until its flush against his lips.

“Good?” You ask and he nods his head before you buckle the gag in place. You place a soft kiss over the leather, your thumb tracing over his cheek. “If you want me to stop, knock twice on the headboard alright?”

He nods again, watching as you pick up the expensive lube, the one that feels like silk before coating your fingers with it. His gaze strays to the strap on, laying on the bed beside you and you sigh as you settle between his thighs.

“Gotta warm you up first baby. You know that.” You chide, your lips brushing over the scar on the hollow of his knee from that cycling accident five years ago. Already his cock is leaking, dripping onto his stomach from the flushed head.

Your fingers delve between his legs, tracing over that needy little hole of his, his hips arching with each swipe, trying to grind down against them. You tut at his desperation, your palm coming to rest on the back of his thigh, pushing it towards his chest. You hear his breath catch because it opens him up, gives him less control. Your finger penetrates his ass and he moans around the cock in his mouth as you begin to pump it gently inside.

“You’re tight Frank.” You whisper, your cheek coming to rest against his knee. “So fucking tight baby, I’m gonna make you come on my fingers instead.”

He scowls at you, but then you add another finger, both of them brushing against the prostate and his eyes roll back into his head at the sudden burst of ecstasy.

“Not so cocky now are we.” You tease, guiding his knee over your shoulder as you shift positions, getting a little deeper and he moans like a whore. Your free hand wraps around his cock, thumb smearing his pre-cum over the head and down the shaft. He fucks up into your fist chasing that release and you stop, gripping the base hard as he pulses in your hand. A strangled cry leaves his throat, that pretty apricot hue blossoming up his neck.  

“This is the thing I’ve missed most about fucking you.” You tell him, your fingers stroking over his prostate. “How beautiful you look when you actually let me take care of you.”

You start to move again, jerking him off in time with the firm, steady rhythm of your fingers. His breath turns ragged, his movements less coordinated as his muscles tense and he starts to pull at his restraints. His back bows with every stroke, his head tipping back into the pillow until that blush creeps up his cheeks and his wild eyes meet yours.

It’s that intimacy that sends him over the edge, that trust that you’ve got him no matter what happens in this bed, in his life.

The rapture hits him like a force of nature, searing through his nerve endings like the climax of a storm, the heavens bursting, giving way to that sweet release. A guttural groans tears from the depths of his throat as streaks of hot, white come paint his stomach and chest.

He looks like a fucking mess in your sheets, tousled hair, flushed skin, stained in the evidence of his euphoria as he clenches around your fingers.

He grumbles when you withdraw from him, your hands smoothing along his trembling thighs. You kiss a trail up along his body, tongue lapping up a line of come before you reach up and unfasten the gag, easing the cock from between his swollen lips.

“You were right.” He whispers, his voice a rasp as you untie the silk binding his wrists to the bed. “I’m out of practice, the strapon would have been too much.”

“We’ll work our way back to it.” You promise him, using the wipes you keep handy to clear off the spent from his belly before tossing them in the general direction of the trash.

His arms wrap around you, gathering you up close, his palms roving over the curve of your back, tracing over the intricate tattoos that decorate your skin. He always needs the proximity in the aftermath, more so these days after everything he put you through.

His phone chimes and he curses, his forehead coming to rest upon yours as you look into his eyes.

“I’m supposed to go to a meeting tonight.” He murmurs into the barest space between you. “But I don’t want you to think I’m fucking and running.”

“I don’t.” You tell him, your thumb tracing over the dark stubble that’s starting to appear along his jaw. “This only works if you stay healthy and the meetings are a part of that.”

“Can I come back after?” He asks you. You reach over into your nightstand, removing the spare key you had made earlier today before pressing it into his hand.

 “I would be very upset if you didn’t.”

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[bonzirelle]

Out Of Sync

paring: idol!bangchan x reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: cursing(like two), arguing(idk if that counts), kissing

summary: Chan’s been pushing himself to the edge for the sake of the group, while you’re growing more and more worried about his mental health. But all he sees is the music—the deadlines, the pressure, the need to keep going. Your concerns don’t match his priorities, and slowly, it starts to pull your relationship apart.

dolle’s note: i wrote one little channie’s room reference..please lmk if you saw it!!

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It’s close to one in the morning and you were getting more tired with every second that passed by. Eyes dropping ever few minutes and everything was going quiet, well, everything except for the sound of Chan humming a melody to himself while tapping a pencil against his mini notebook. Usually this wouldn’t worry or bother you, his work never really has, but lately it’s getting to a point. He damn near stays up until sunrise and some days he doesn’t even come home from the studio. You’re lucky Jisung practically dragged him out of the room, or else you knew he would still be in there pushing himself to the brink of passing out.

You knew about Chan’s passion for music, it’s never been hidden. You would actually be more concerned if he didn’t mention music for a day. You’ve always supported him and his decisions when it comes to music writing and producing, you always have so it would be kind of weird to you if you didn’t. But more frequently you’ve been second guessing letting him stay up late like this. He stays in the studio for a whole day and misses meals. You know it’s not healthy for him and he knows it too. But he’s too blinded by his love for music that he’s neglecting his own personal health.

“Chan, it’s getting late. You should come to bed.” You sounded so tired, and that’s because you were extremely exhausted.

For the first few seconds he was completely silent continuing to be hunched over a spiral notebook while writing lyrics.

“Just give me a second.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

A sigh fell from his lips, he pauses his movements for a second to see if you would say anything else, but when you didn’t he just went right back to writing as if you went basically pleading for him to lay with you. Yeah, you were worried about him and his health, but you’ve also been starting to feel much more lonely and empty lately. You didn’t want to make this about yourself so you stayed quiet not to worry or stress him out even further. After a few more moments of silence from the both of you, you wrap a throw blanket around your shoulders and get out of the bed then made your way over to his desk.

“Chan, i’ve literally been waiting for you to get in bed since you’ve come home. You came here at ten…it’s almost one in the morning.”

You watched him start to bounce his leg while you we’re talking like he was trying to distract himself from something.

“I never asked you to wait for me. You shouldn’t even be up right now. You have work in the morning, don’t let me keep you from going to sleep.”

“That’s the point, Chan. I literally can’t sleep without you.”

He started to roll his eyes as you spoke. You knew he was burning himself out but that didn’t give him the right to be annoyed at you, you didn’t do anything but wait for him. That’s what you’ve always done. Gave him time no matter what. You know no one is perfect so you ah to give him the benefit of the doubt, you wouldn’t get too snappy or angry at him for being up like this.

“Can you just leave alone for one fucking moment? God, you’re so clingy for no reason. Just go to sleep.”

His words hurt way more than they were supposed to. You’ve always looked at Chan as someone who would never say anything hurtful or mean to you. That’s how he’s always been.

“Oh, i’m clingy? God forbid i wanted to wait for my boyfriend to actually get to sleep with him.”

After you got nothing but silence from him, you scoff and go back over to your bed.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered while tucking the sheets back and wrapping yourself in them. You tried not to get too worked up over this but you just really wanted to feel Chan’s arms around you after days of him coming home late. He was like the feeling of coming home to a warm room after spending the whole day out in the cold. Still, he was being stubborn and continued to write away in his notebook instead hearing you out and acting spending some time with you and this time you just accepted it. It’s not like much would change anyway.

You fell asleep pretty quickly considering it was really late. While you began to drift off in complete silence, you felt the bed dip down beside you and a familiar scent of lemon and complete sweetness then knew it was Chan. Well, i mean who else would it have been?

“Babe..you up?” You nod your head a little, not having the strength to speak. He let out a very soft sigh through his nostrils while tucking some of your hair behind his ears. “Good night, baby…” He leans down to press a light kiss to your cheek.

He doesn’t say anything this time, just reaches over and pulls you close. You let him. His hand finds yours under the blanket, fingers lacing slowly. A shaky breath leaves his nose. Then, so soft you almost miss it—“’Night.” He presses a kiss to your temple and closes his eyes. And everything feels like it’ll be just fine.

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[ulteri0rm0tives]

I still think about my mutuals tag where he said that he thinks Johnny feels so much and so deeply that it literally drove him crazy. And yeah. Just think about it constantly. It's. The statement I associate with him. The first thing I think of when I think of him.

I really, really, really dislike when people paint Johnny as this totally unfeeling asshole. Or at least, I heavily disagree with it. That's not to say he isn't an asshole, he 100% is. He's a jerk to the people around him, and of course there really is no excuse for how he treats people. But explanations =/= excuses.

I feel when people try to paint him that way, it comes from a place that lacks understanding or even an unwillingness to understand. This goes hand in hand where I'll see these people call him an unfeeling asshole while using terms associated with cluster b disorders and using the social weight they carry to demonize him, a very prevalent problem reflected in society and internet pop psychology culture.

They'll take the fact he's a 'narcissistic junkie', and not only at the same time use it to demonize people with NPD, but also drug users. It's just a very lazy way to paint a picture of his characterization, by using loaded terms as a crutch and letting their social weight, using yours and others people's biases, do the job for you. Like man, if you're going to make a critique of his character can we at least actually put some effort behind it.

Like. They think he's a user who's an unfeeling asshole to people just for the sake of being one. They see him engaging in these self endangering, self harming, self sabotaging behaviors and brush it off as nothing more than him being like that simply because he likes it, that he relishes in it even. Simply because he wants and chooses to be like that.

They don't see him using as a way of numbing himself (this especially with the fact drugs are the first thing he goes for when Alt breaks it off with him). They don't see that constant toxic push and pull in his relationships as self sabotage. They don't see the fact him going on that OP was a suicide mission. Literally.

I truly believe he never intended to come back from that mission, evident in his last exchange with Kerry, evident in a LOT of his own lyrics. (Black Dog, Ballad of Buck Ravers.)

Johnny clearly is passionate. He clearly has things he cares about. He clearly feels.

I'd even go so far as to say he genuinely does care about the people in his life, he just simply doesn't know how to show it properly or in a way that's healthy for anyone involved. Even when Alt breaks up with him, and he pushes her away for it, he still ends up chasing after her before she's even left the venue. He still tries to protect her. When Alt gets abducted, and yeah, he's being a leadheaded stubborn idiot about it, he still goes after her.

And even if it's self aggrandizing in a lot of ways, he still cares about her life enough to raid a whole fucking tower for her. Even if it's more in the view of what Arasaka took from him, than what it did to her, he still cares about her in his own way. He still grieves her. He's still broken up when she dies right in front of him, and he still acts out even if it's violent and angry. His grief has ALWAYS manifested this way.

When he sees the headlines about Kerry, he asks V to check up on him, to visit him. He even asks Kerry about it because (I think) it came from a place of genuine worry shown the best way he can show it, a straightforward question and dropping it when he gets an answer, no matter how truthful the answer is. When Kerry gets the idea for a one time reunion, Johnny agrees to it because he thinks 'Kerry needs this'.

I also think people see that he's a very angry person and attribute 'unfeeling' to that. Because to them, to a lot of people, anger isn't a valid emotion nor one with as much value as happiness or sadness. That's it's something less than. Even if anger was all he felt, it's still a feeling. He still feels it. He still feels.

His anger, though it's execution is obviously a problem, it's extremely fucking justified and valid. It's born from the mistreatment of a system that only destroys people's lives. Born from a system that only knows how to take, how to hurt, how to kill.

The same system that took, not just a literal piece of Johnny, but so many pieces of his identity and his life that he literally tries to project himself as an entirely new person to escape this.

Johnny cares about how the system treats people, especially people like him. How it uses people and chews them up and discards them when it's taken all it can from them. Johnny cares so much he becomes not just a voice, but thinks he is- and in a lot of ways he does really become one- a symbol for people like him.

That OP functioned as another rescue mission for Alt, another statement for his ideals, and his blaze of glory to go out on his own terms.

Johnny cares about things. Johnny cares about people. He has feelings. Complicated, convoluted, deeply traumatized feelings. Feelings that are so intense, that it harms him. Feelings that are so intense, that it bleeds from him and harms others, too.

And honestly, I'd say the one and only person he stopped truly caring about was himself. A long, long time ago.