#i spent way too fucking long making this please laugh

[papercranesandinkstains]

Midnights

Summary: You guys never could get your timing right. Or could you?

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

AN: This is the first time I have ever published a written fic, so please please please be kind. I don't know if I will leave this up or if I will do more, but I just wanted to try it out... Thank you for reading!

Masterlist

The two of you had been playing this game for long enough. The back and forth. Committing your hearts to one another, then jumping and running the second the rain started. Waiting for the storm to subside and then your phone would light up late at night, sending you right back down the rabbit hole that always seemed to land you right back in his bed, skin pressed together and air filled with unspoken promises that the two of you had finally gotten it right. 

You never had. 

But the idea was warm, like most dreams are. Tangled up through years of almost confessions and jealous rages, but by the time the stars settled in the sky, the two of you would be right back where you always were. In love, but not. Together, but alone. Committed to keeping the other for yourselves, but not willing to take the final plunge. 

That’s how you found yourself tonight, red cup pressed into the palm of your hand as your lips curl up into a small smile while you pretend you are listening to the very animated story John B is giving you by the fire. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to listen. You found John B quite entertaining under normal circumstances and with the little comments sprinkled in from JJ and the warmth from the beer in your hand, you would normally be a giggling fool tripping over your feet to hear more. 

Maybe you would have been if you hadn’t seen him walk in, all smug smiles and blue eyes as he makes his way around the party. He’s careful to move around your group. Not that you notice. Okay, you do notice. You always do. That’s his plan all along. After yet another argument about him not knowing how to actually apologize with his words instead of the ghost of his lips in the middle of the night, you had sworn you were done. 

You were done. 

He’s the one who showed up in the stupid blue button up you had gotten him for his birthday lifetimes ago, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and buttons undone knowing how you felt about how it made his eyes stand out. You’d have to be blind to not catch the watch wrapped snugly around his wrist, silver and flickering by the firelight with the unmistakable carving of your initials on the side of it. He was doing it on purpose. You knew he would play dirty. He always did. Avoiding you so that you would have to be the one to make the first move no matter who was in the wrong- even if it was almost always him. 

So, you were ignoring him back. The glances you snuck in his direction were because you were still a girl at the end of the day. Enjoying the sight of him and caving were two very different things. Rafe Cameron is beautiful. He knows it. To make it worse, he knows you know it. You can’t let him win. Not this time. The longest the two of you have held out is three days. 

Tonight is day four.

Your eyes leave his face again, turning your sight back to John B who just rolls his eyes playfully and dodges a stick that Kiara throws at him for some obscene comment he made when you were too busy staring at your- When you were busy staring at Rafe. 

The beer is warm on your tongue, a little gross but just enough to keep your attention off of the way Rafe throws his head back to laugh at something Topper is saying to him, hand finding his shoulder. After the time you have spent away from each other, watching his fingers land on anybody else drops a stone in your stomach. He’s like a drug and you never really noticed how addicted you are until his hands aren’t on you. The cup in your hand is drained in an instant, earning you a cheer from JJ, who nudges your shoulder and effectively drops your cup right out of your hand. 

“JJ, what the fuck. I was-”

“If you need another drink, baby, I’d be more than willing to help you out.” 

You straighten up as the deep voice pops up from behind you, pressed so closely behind you that you can almost feel the words rattling around in his chest. You don’t turn around. Instead, you stand and watch as JJ makes a not-so apologetic face before he is shaking his head and grabbing John B, promises of keg stands and staying out of “relationship drama”. 

As if you could even call it that.

Still, your chest floods with a warmth only he can give you. Not that you would let him know that. Especially not when you are still trying to prove a point. You’re stronger than him. Rafe Cameron is used to batting his eyelashes and getting what he wants. It’s no surprise when you finally turn yourself around and meet his eyes that what he has decided he wants is you. 

“I’m all good,” you say quickly with the flash of a polite smile. 

He smirks at you, tilting his head in that stupidly arrogant way that makes you unsure if you want to strangle him or marry him. He holds out a wine cooler to you, glass bottle extended out like a peace offering. It’s his way of apologizing. Coming over to you at a party is a first, but this isn’t. Gifts instead of him actually admitting that he was wrong. You won’t fall for it. No matter how nicely the light of the fire catches his face or how good he smells. 

You just raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms over your chest. It’s a challenge. You both know that, and usually he would be ticking his jaw and throwing you over his shoulder. He hadn’t exactly made his affections for you a secret in public, one too many punches landing on the bodies of boys who hadn’t quite gotten the memo you were spoken for. Not that you could blame them. You never got one either.

Instead, he puts the bottle down on the log your friends had abandoned to give you space and wipes his hands off on his jeans. The two of you stand like that for a moment, ignoring the curious glances and quiet whispers of the crowds around you. You two weren’t strangers to the occasional public standoff, but those usually entailed the two of you just yelling at each other. Neither of you says anything. Just a staredown to see who is going to break first. 

It’s always you. You had a weakness for pretty boys with soft smiles reserved just for you. Danger wrapped up in selective kindness that only found itself extended to you. You fell for it every time, and everyone knows you’ll fall for it again this time. It’s just a matter of when.

For the first time, he beats you to the punch. 

“Tell me what you want,” he says, “I’ll give it to you. You know I will.”

The scoff is slipping through your lips before he finishes his sentence, partially in disbelief at him actually making the first move and the rest because he is standing in front of you again beating around the bush and not just owning his shit. 

“There’s nothing you have that I want.”

The smile that breaks across is genuine, blue eyes shining in the darkness, and it makes your heart stop for just a second. Just a second. You won’t be broken by a pretty smile. Plenty of people smile. Your face flushing is because of the heat crackling beside you, not because of your- whatever he is. 

“I’d say lying isn’t cute on you, but then I would be lying. Everything looks good on you. I would look even better-”

You shove at his chest, giving him a glare as you glance around at the ears that have perked up around you. You flip the first set of eyes you catch off, middle finger lingering in the air and earning a chuckle from the boy in front of you when the stranger turns away in embarrassment. 

“What do you want, Rafe?”

You're tired of it now. The back and forth. He is doing exactly what he always does, and the space hasn’t changed anything. You know this isn’t how things should be. You need to get out of this before your resolve crumbles. You aren’t asking for a miracle, but the longer you stand this close to him, a miracle would be what they need to get you off of him.

“You.”

Quick. Simple. Said without thinking, and in a breath that sounds so sure that your heart soars. You allow it a second before you are snatching it back, shaking your head as you continue to stare at him.

“You’ve had me long enough.” 

Your shoulder knocks into his as you brush past him, finally tearing your eyes away and setting your sights on the parking lot. You came to have a nice night, and you are about two seconds away from jumping his bones or jumping off a bridge. 

Warm fingers wrap around your wrist, touch feather-light but grounding. You don’t turn around to look at him. Your resolve is breaking fast, and if you look at him for a second longer, you will forget about the apology you are wanting. He has a way of bringing you in, and you always let him. 

“What do you want me to say?” he asks, giving your wrist a slight tug. He wants you to look at him, but you don’t give in. “That I’m sorry? I am. I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you feel like I’m not in this.”

Your shoulders drop, teeth biting into the inside of your lip. Tears are burning in your eyes, cheeks burning as the alcohol and his words both settle into your being. It’s an apology. Not a good one, but a first. Are firsts ever really good? You aren’t too sure as your mind focuses on the way his thumb traces a circle over your wrist. 

“Or do you want me to say that I love you?”

You are stumbling away from him, snatching your wrist back against your chest, cradling it like his words sliced it somehow. Your eyes find him, searching for the punchline. He just looks back at you, eyes soft in a way that they only ever are for you in the safety of his bed. Never in public. 

“Because I do,” he says. 

You just stare at him, mouth open as you try to find something to say. You want to scream at him. Your palms itch to reach down and throw the sand underneath your feet at him. He can’t just meet your radio silence with his own for four days after the two of you have gone back and forth for so long and then stand here and confess at a party full of people you don’t even really know. 

“You’re being mean.”

He shakes his head at your words, taking a step towards you. It’s just a little one, but when you allow it, suddenly he is standing inches from you. Blue eyes are staring down at you and suddenly the rest of the party is gone. 

“I love you,” he says the words this time, “I’m tired of not saying it. Calling this what it is.”

“And what exactly do you think this is?” 

The tone of your voice cuts through all of the warmth you are feeling. It’s too warm. You are going to melt standing here and you aren’t even standing next to the fire anymore. He’s too close. You two don’t do this. Feelings? Barely when you are alone. In public? Not happening. 

Well, maybe not before. Tonight is different. 

“You’re mine,” his voice is firm. “You just have to let yourself be.”

His hand finds yours again, pulling your wrist out of your palm and entangling your hands together. His fingers slide into yours like they have a million times. Maybe they have. He’s let it slip before that you were made for him, but it’s moments like these where you think maybe he could be made for you. 

He’s right. You are his. You always have been. The two of you have run from each other for so long that you aren’t sure you actually know how to stop. He is standing in front of you, holding your hand and offering you exactly what you have always wanted. The ache in your chest is deep, heart rate thundering in your ears, but for the first time, your feet are planted underneath you.

“You can’t take it back.”

His laugh floods you with warmth, the ache in your chest settling as he tugs you forward, free hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. You are surrounded by him, his forehead touching yours as he breathes you in for what feels like the first time in a lifetime and you find that you aren’t dreading the morning already. 

For the first time, the two of you are really standing together and nobody is walking away. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And when your lips touch his, you find yourself thinking that maybe this is what forever can feel like.

[fwaist]

idk how you manage to make porn sound beautiful your writing is sooo good,, could i request D from the nsfw alphabet for carmy??🙏🙏🌸 please and thank you

😭😭 thank you so much, this is seriously such high praise! i’ve definitely spent a lot of time honing my craft, so i’m happy that it’s paying off! now, enjoy getting let in on carmy’s dirty little secret…

d is for dirty secret | carmen berzatto

warnings: explicit sex, degradation (consensual), emotional vulnerability, power dynamics, aftercare, past trauma mention (work-related stress), crying, dom/sub elements

tags: @destinedtobegigi, @pittsick, @bambiangels, @talsorchard, @angeldoll1e, @itachisank, @tennisprincess, @lexiiscorect, @esotericgirlwannabe, @lovefaist, @won-every-lottery, @zionna

It doesn’t come out easily. Nothing ever does with Carmy—not the good things, not the soft things, and definitely not this. He’s too guarded, too clenched behind the ribcage he built out of guilt and grief and sharp-edged expectations. Sex, for him, was always something that existed in theory. He’d had it, sure. Here and there, quick and forgettable. Mostly desperate. Never deep. Never slow. Never safe. And never like this—with someone patient enough to wait for the real him to come out, for the parts he doesn’t understand, the ones he’s afraid to want.

It starts one night with him restless beneath you, half-sweaty, half-high from the way your mouth had ruined him earlier, his chest rising sharp and fast like it always does when his brain’s spinning. You’re curled over him, sticky from his come, his hands still trembling a little on your waist. And you whisper it again—what you’ve been asking for days now, soft and coaxing at the seam of his ear.

“Tell me what you want.”

He’d brushed it off every time. With a shrug. A scoff. A smile so fake it could’ve been carved out of soap. But now, with his body unraveled under you and his walls cracked just wide enough to bleed, he gives you something real.

It’s barely a whisper.

The kind of truth that feels like it might fall apart if he says it any louder.

“I want you to… talk down to me,” he breathes, like he hates himself for saying it. Like the words are burning their way up his throat.

You don’t react at first. You don’t laugh, or blink, or flinch—and that’s what keeps him from shutting down. Just you, breathing steady, still wrapped around him like warmth itself. Your hand rests flat over his ribs, right where his heart stutters like a wounded animal. You feel it when he says the next part, even softer.

“Like, really mean. Tell me I’m fucking lucky. That I don’t deserve it.” He closes his eyes, shame flickering behind his lashes. “Tell me I’m not good at it. That my dick’s big but I don’t know how to use it. Just—fuck with me. I want that. I think.”

There’s silence between you for a beat. A long one. Weighted like a decision.

You kiss the underside of his jaw, gentle, slow. Your voice stays low, careful, reverent in a way that makes him shiver.

“Okay,” you murmur. “Why?”

He turns his head, eyes still shut. His breath catches. Like he’s scared you’ll ask, and even more scared you won’t.

“I used to get screamed at every day,” he says. “New York kitchens. Every service. Every fucking hour. About things I couldn’t fix. About things that weren’t my fault. I’d throw up before shifts sometimes. Wake up with my heart pounding so hard I couldn’t breathe. And no one gave a shit. You just kept your head down. You took it. Or you left.”

He swallows.

“But when you do it—when you say those things—I’m not alone in it. I’m not scared. You still want me. You’re still inside me, on me, with me… whatever. I can take it. It makes it feel like… power, I guess. Like I get to choose it, this time.”

The words bleed into the dark between you, soft and aching. He’s not looking at you, not even now. He’s never looked so open and so closed at once—shoulders tense, jaw sharp, but his chest… wide open. Exposed. Like a wound that stopped bleeding and never learned to scar.

You take your time before responding. You run your thumb over the ridge of his hip, feel the tremor in his leg as your palm drags down the muscle of his thigh. He’s still half-hard. The confession didn’t scare his body like it scared his voice.

“Okay,” you say again, slow and deliberate. “I’ll say whatever you want. I’ll be so fucking mean.”

He groans at that, almost involuntarily. His cock twitches between you, already starting to swell.

“But I want you to listen, too,” you add, leaning in, brushing your mouth over the corner of his. “When it’s over. When I say the other stuff. The real stuff. You gonna be able to do that, Carmen?”

His eyes open finally. Wide. Blue. Fragile.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I want that, too.”

So you rise to your knees over him, slow and deliberate, watching the way his gaze trails up the length of your body like it’s a prayer he doesn’t know the words to. He’s beautiful in this light—hair a mess of curls, collarbones sharp and flushed, chest still marked where you bit him earlier. He doesn’t look away when you reach down and wrap your hand around him again.

He’s thick in your palm. Heavy, flushed pink with arousal, veins standing out with the blood rushing under his skin. His head tips back again as you stroke him, your thumb grazing the slit—wet, slick, leaking already like the need never really left him.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “Please.”

“You are lucky,” you say, your voice sharpening just a little, steel under silk. “You don’t even know how fucking lucky you are, do you?”

His eyes flutter. He pants.

“You get to fuck me, Berzatto. And you don’t even know what you’re doing. All this dick and no clue how to use it.”

He moans. Loud. Desperate. You climb over him again, press the thick head of him against your entrance and watch him come undone.

“God, look at you,” you murmur as you sink down onto him—inch by inch, slow and merciless. “Already losing it. Haven’t even started.”

And he hasn’t. His hands clutch your hips like you’re a lifeline, his chest arched up into yours, breath wild and broken as you bottom out.

You see it in his face—this release of something deeper than lust. Like shame being peeled off layer by layer. Like trauma being rewired by pleasure so sharp it makes him cry out. You ride him slow at first, but the way he bucks up into you, the helpless noises—he’s not going to last. He’s not meant to.

You lean in, fingers gripping his jaw. Your mouth close to his ear.

“Bet they made you feel small, didn’t they?” you hiss. “Made you feel like you weren’t worth shit.” He nods, choked, undone.

“Well now I’m making you feel like that. And you’re fucking hard for it.”

He shouts, hips jerking helplessly under you, his whole body convulsing with the force of it.

“That’s it, baby. Fucking take it.”

And he does. With everything he’s got.

You don’t slow down. You don’t stop—not when he’s this far gone. Not when his eyes are rolling back, not when his jaw’s gone slack and his hands are pawing blindly at your hips like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. His cock is twitching deep inside you, thick and swollen, pulsing like it’s too much for him to hold in. Like he’s going to break apart and you’re the only thing keeping him from floating off the bed entirely.

“You feel that?” you whisper, dragging your hips up and slamming back down—hard enough to knock a sharp gasp out of him. “That’s me doing the work. Not you. You just get to lie there like a good little fucktoy and take it.”

His breath shudders. You can see the way the words hit him—low and deep and hot, turning something in his chest inside out.

His mouth opens, tries to form a sound, but nothing comes out. Just a gasp, a moan, something wrecked. You lean down, mouth against the sweat-damp skin of his neck.

“I could get off on this cock without you even doing a single thing,” you murmur, voice sharp as teeth and sweet as poison. “All that talk about how good you are with your hands, how precise you are in the kitchen—but in bed? You’re fucking useless.”

He groans—full-bodied and helpless. His hands clench on your thighs like he’s in pain, like the pleasure is boiling over and he’s barely holding it in. His face is flushed to his ears, hair stuck to his forehead in damp curls, jaw clenched so tight you can see the muscle twitching.

You grin—slow, dangerous, almost fond.

“Pathetic,” you hiss. “You’re so goddamn pathetic like this, Carmen. You like that, huh? Being used like this? Being told what a worthless little thing you are?”

His whole body jerks. His back arches off the mattress. “Yes—fuck, yes—don’t stop, please don’t—”

You don’t. You fuck him harder. Faster. The wet sounds of your bodies colliding fill the room, slick and obscene. His cock slips so deep inside you it punches little cries out of your throat, but you don’t stop—not when he’s so close, not when you feel his stomach start to tighten and his legs begin to tremble under you.

You bring your hand to his throat—gentle at first, just resting there, just enough pressure to feel his pulse hammering. His eyes flutter open, dazed and desperate. You don’t squeeze—you don’t have to. The look in your eyes alone has him panting like he’s about to die from it.

“You’re gonna come for me again,” you say, low and firm and mean. “You’re gonna come like a desperate little bitch because I said so. Because you’re mine. You hear me?”

“Yes,” he gasps. “Please, I—fuck, I’m—”

You slam down on him one more time, and that’s it. His mouth falls open around a silent cry and he comes—hard. Harder than before. Harder than he’s ever come in his life. His whole body seizes beneath you, thighs clenching, spine bowing, his cock kicking deep inside you as he fills you with it—hot and pulsing and endless.

He doesn’t make a sound at first. Just trembles. Just holds on like he’ll die if he lets go. His eyes are glassy, unfocused, wet at the corners like he’s short-circuited, like whatever he just felt was too much to process in real time.

When it finally passes—when the shock stops rolling through his nerves and his body goes soft beneath you—he blinks up at you like he forgot how to speak.

You pull off him slowly, carefully, your thighs trembling as you settle next to him. He’s a mess—chest heaving, sweat gleaming on his skin, hair ruined, come smeared across both your thighs. You reach for a towel and gently wipe him clean, pressing kisses to his jaw, his temple, the corners of his mouth.

He swallows hard. Blinks. Still not quite there yet. You drag your fingers through his curls and wait.

“You okay?” you whisper, soft again. Stripped of cruelty. Honest.

He nods, dazed. “Yeah. Fuck. Yeah, I just—” He lets out a long breath, like something that’s been stuck in him for years finally dislodged. “That was… insane. I didn’t even know I could feel that much.”

You stroke a thumb under his eye, wipe away the tear you hadn’t pointed out.

“I meant what I said earlier,” you whisper. “You’re not useless. Not even close. You’re so fucking good, Carmen. And I love you.”

His eyes cut to yours then, sharp and clear, and he smiles—small and warm and real.

“I know,” he murmurs. “You’re sweet.” He leans in, kisses you lazy and slow, tongue dragging against yours like a man drunk on want. Then he laughs, rough and low. “But goddamn, you look so hot when you’re mean.”

You grin against his mouth.

“Lucky for you,” you whisper, “I love being mean to you.”

And from the look in his eyes—hungry, wide, reverent—he knows you mean it.

[miserys-inkwell]

Similar energy

[creamiecoups]

conditioned - seungcheol x reader

↠  seungcheol x reader

↠  summary : you were too naive, too sweet, and seungcheol had to be the one that gets to wreck and destroy you… and also make sure you were conditioned enough to never dare to leave him.

↠  word count: 6.5K words

↠  warnings: swearing, tension, dom!seungcheol, mafia boss!seungcheol, mentions of drinking, noncon/dubcon, reader is scared of cheol, slight degradation, oral (male receiving), choking, crying, mentions of drugging, use of pet names

part one part two part three part four part five

"So… how did you get home last night then?" Your friend Umji asked, as you took another bite of your strawberry cake.

You both decided to meet during your lunch break at the cafe you worked at, Umji now extremely curious as to how you managed to get home after you told her about the mysterious man you couldn't remember the name of from last night.

"To be honest... I-I don't know. It's genuinely scaring me to think about just how drunk I must've been last night—"

"Yeah but to that extent? Honestly Y/N I don't want to worry you any further but are you 100% sure he didn't spike your drink or something? It's kinda insane to think you literally can't even remember a single point on from when he started talking to you, and can you really not remember his name?" Umji asked worriedly, as you frowned.

"No.... I really am trying to but I can't. I remember his face though, like I could recognise him.... and no I really don't think he would've because I never once looked away to what I remember," you say, biting your bottom lip as Umji sighed.

"Yeah but it could've happened when you were already drunk. I remember when you walked away from us to go to the bar... you were pretty drunk already. Fuck I’m sorry Y/N. I should've never let you go off like that we all drank so much it was really—"

"No no don't blame yourself you did try to stop me so many times but I just walked away once I saw Eunha dragging you to get more drinks from the other guys, that's on me."

"But still, I should've come with you. Now are you sure nothing was stolen from your apartment? Or did anything look even the slightest out of place or suspicious?" She asked again, as you glanced down at the time on your phone to see you only had a couple more minutes left of your break.

"Yeah I did, I spent almost an hour looking around like an insane person, but nothing. I-I guess I must've told him my apartment name and code... I even asked the front desk if anyone told him my code and they said that's usually the time the desk is left unattended... but I know it was definitely him because everything is so blurry after that conversation I had with him about the... the expresso martini," you say, shifting in your seat as Umji looked at you in worry.

"I know you have to go soon, I should head back too I have some assignments to finish but.... please promise me you'll call if you need anything? And if you ever feel unsafe you know I'd be the happiest to have you over for as long as you'd like," Umji said, as you both stood up before you were hugging her tightly.

"I know I love you, and thank you," you whisper, as she pulled away to pat your head.

"I love you more. Call me tonight."

You watched as she walked away, a bitter smile on your face as you walked back to the cashier area.

you missed her already, she was one of the only people that made you feel loved here.

"She's really pretty.... is she looking for a man by any chance?" Yugyeom wiggled his eyebrows your way, as your other co worker Jaebum snickered.

"You're not a man, you're literally the biggest fucking baby here, Y/N?" Jaebum asked you directly, as you smiled instantly.

"He's not really wrong there Gyeom," you say with a laugh, as he rolled his eyes at you before walking towards the back door.

"Well I'll leave you both out here to deal with the annoying customers then, I’m taking my break!" Yugyeom announced before practically running away.

"He couldn't bring himself to admit it so he ran, pussy," Jaebum mumbled, making the both of you laugh together as you helped him clean the coffee machine.

"Ah can you take the next customer, I think someone is waiting there, I'm just gonna get the coffee powder from the back," Jaebum said, pointing to a man standing in front of the cashier, his back facing you.

"Yeah of course," you say before skipping over to the machine.

"Hi what can I— Joshua??" You gasp softly, eyes lighting up as he smiled at you warmly.

"Hey Y/N,  you finish in an hour right?"

"Yeah, why?" You asked, as he simply smiled before looking up at the menu above you.

"It's freezing outside, I'll get a warm coffee, when you bring it out we'll talk," he said as you slowly nodded.

This was the first time he ordered something aside from an iced americano, like he mentioned it was way too cold for something iced.

After he paid you watched him walk back to his usual spot at the booth, before you were turning around to serve the next customer.

"Let me guess he wants it from you again?" Jaebum sighed, rolling his eyes as you watched him make the drink.

"I-I don't know... it is kinda weird but he's not really harming anyone I guess," you shrug your shoulders, as Jaebum scoffs before handing you the tray with Joshua's order.

"Oh he harms people alright. Look I’m not really interested in keeping you in the dark like the others do, he's filthy rich and a complete psychopath okay? Hell, they even have the police on their side that's how insane and corrupt these people are, and if you think he's bad enough... oh you haven't even heard the beginning of their leader—"

"Jaebum don't you think those cups need stocking up?" Soyeon spat, before tapping your shoulder as you turned to look at her still dazed.

"Mr Hong asked for this, right? Why don't you go deliver it and I'll keep watch at the counter," she said, before pointing towards Joshua as you slightly nod.

You sigh out a shaky breath as you walk towards him, Jaebum's sudden outburst leaving you in more confusion than clearness.

"Hey," You quietly mumble once you get to his table, placing the tray down in front of him softly as he looked up at you from his phone screen.

"Hi, come sit, I have something to tell you."

You hesitantly sit down, already knowing everyone was looking at you even without you having to turn to look at them.

like usual.

"Yeah what is it?" You ask curiously, as you watch him take a sip of his coffee before smiling softly.

"I know it hasn't been that long since we met but, actually I’m having a small get together at my house soon and I wanted to invite you," Joshua asked, as you pondered the thought.

The better part of you wanted to say no. Finding it weird he was inviting you to his house after your only conversations have been over coffee during your shifts... you didn't even have his number.

You were probably taking too long to answer, and looking at him weirdly enough for Joshua to clear his throat before smiling at you again.

"Do you have something on? Can't make it?"

"N-No no it's not that I just...." You trailed off, mentally slapping yourself for sounding like an idiot as you tried to quickly come up with something to say.

"I know you're probably wary and that's understandable, but there will be quite a lot of people.... it's actually one of my close friends' birthday so I’m hosting for it, you can bring a friend too if you'd like."

He was convincing you, it didn't seem like such a horrible idea anymore and you thought it would be nice to meet new people and have fun. Hopefully Joshua and you would get closer.

you were too foolish, but for his own good.

"Yeah okay, when is it?" You say as Joshua smiles to himself, patting himself on the back mentally for getting through you.

"This Saturday. Party starts 7pm but you can come whenever, here let me give you my number," he said, before signalling for your phone.

You took it out of your pocket, going into your calls app before slowly handing him your phone.

Jaebum was usually someone who was off his hinges at times, you would have to force out what he was trying to tell you later, but for now you knew you could trust Joshua.

"Alright perfect, I'll text you if anything changes. Now you finish in an hour correct?" Joshua asked.

"Yeah...why?" You question as he handed you your phone back.

"Thought you'd wanna go out for dinner someplace, my treat of course."

"No I couldn't do—"

"Darling I wouldn't be asking if I couldn't, please, it would be my pleasure... we're always only ever meeting when you're on shift, so, let me take you out," he smiled, eyes twinkling as your mouth slightly hung open.

You could never tell if he was just the overly friendly flirt type, or if he genuinely was hitting on you.

but you were somewhat friends you realised, so you saw no harm in it.

"O-Okay... yeah," you mumble out with a nod, as he sighed happily across the table.

"Alright perfect, I'll see you in an hour Y/N."

———————————————————————————

The rest of your shift you were completely out of it, thinking about how tonight would go with Joshua.

You couldn't really tell why you felt so nervous and on edge, you had been out with guy friends alone before, but none of them had made you feel this nervous, hell, even your ex didn't when you guys first started dating.

But you also felt a sense of happiness, because Joshua had slowly found his way into your heart.

You couldn't tell if you had developed a tiny crush on him or not, anyways he was beyond your league, but he made you feel like you could tell him anything and he would listen without leaving any room for judgment.

despite everything your co workers had been leading on.

maybe he'll be a good friend, you thought.

"Hey Y/N do you want a ride? Jaebum and I might be stopping for ice cream," Yugyeom asked you as you were getting ready to leave.

"That's okay guys one of my friends is picking me up, have fun!" You quickly say before dashing out of the door, knowing if you stayed any longer questions would follow.

You instantly spot Joshua's Porsche parked right out in front, as you awkwardly knocked on the window before you heard the sound of the door unlocking.

"Hey," Joshua greeted you as soon as you sat inside before closing the door.

"Hi, sorry if I made you wait we—"

"You don't need to be sorry, now put your seatbelt on," he cut you off before he was driving down the street.

"Okay.... so where are we going?" You asked curiously as you looked out the window.

"I remember you mentioned one of your favourite cuisines was Italian the other day, so I'm taking you to my favourite Italian place, you'll love it I promise," he answers, as you slowly nod.

"Can I ask you a question..?" You spoke after a few minutes of silence, before he was humming softly.

"H-How did you know my name...the first time we met... I remember I never told you, but you somehow knew," you asked him, furrowing your eyebrows slightly as he glanced your way before his eyes were back on the road ahead.

"Mmh... I think I heard someone call you? Like one of your co workers? I'm not too sure to be honest, but how else would I have known?" Joshua directed the question to you, as you bit your lip.

That would make sense.

You were soon pulling into a tall building in Gangnam, your eyes widening slightly when Joshua pulled down his window to hand his car keys to the valet.

"We're eating h-here?" You say once you get out of the car, jaw going slack as you looked up at the tall skyscraper.

"Yep, there's a restaurant on the 45th floor, let's go," he answered before he was holding your hand.

You went quiet as you let him drag you inside and into the elevator, your eyes now glued to your hands entwined with his. Joshua on the other hand seemed unfazed, looking ahead without any specific emotion etched on his face before the elevator was opening with a ding.

"Welcome Mr. Hong," a man in a suit greeted you guys as soon as you stepped out, before Joshua was shrugging out of his black blazer.

"Good evening, I trust you've found us the best seat like I asked for?" Joshua questioned with an eyebrow raised, before he was tapping at your jacket and asking you to take it off.

You removed it before handing it to the man with a small smile.

"Thank you, and of course Sir, a seat in front of the magnificent view, please follow me," the man spoke, before Joshua's hand was finding your once again.

You bit your lip as you quietly walked behind the waiter, your eyes wandering over the dimly lit restaurant in complete awe.

This was definitely an insanely expensive restaurant, and the 360 view of Seoul surrounding the place was a big giveaway.

"Joshu—"

"Thank you," Joshua said politely, as the man bowed at us before walking away.

You slowly sat opposite him on the comfy sofa chair, trying your hardest not to turn and gape at the beautiful city lights and instead looking at the man across you who was quietly looking through the menu.

"Joshua, you really didn't have to do all of this, any restaurant would've been fine," you say, feeling uneasy suddenly as you glanced around.

"Well I thought this restaurant would be nice, you'll love it, like I said earlier—"

"Yeah I'm sure I will but I know it's probably super expensive and I just...feel bad..." you almost whisper but he manages to catch on as his hands grab your fiddling fingers across the table.

"Relax darling. I wanted to bring you here okay? Just enjoy it, now.... have a look at the menu and pick out whatever you'd like, understand? Don't worry," he assured, tapping your hand once before handing you the menu book.

You reluctantly stayed quiet, figuring he'd be adamant on staying even if you wanted to leave. You opened the menu, eyes scanning over the list of dishes and noticed there was no price labelled next to each item.

"Anything you're eyeing in particular?"

"Y-Yeah the clam pasta.... I'll get that," you mumble, looking up at Joshua already smiling at you.

"I knew you'd get that," he gleamed, making you crease your eyebrows.

"How'd you know?"

"You mentioned it to me that time we talked about our favourite dishes," he answered, before calling the waiter over to you guys.

"Any wine for your order, Sir?" The waiter asked, as Joshua pushed the drinks menu your way.

"I'll go with red wine, have a look and choose Y/N," he said, as you looked over the confusing menu.

Well it wasn't actually confusing in a way you couldn't understand, but you also just didn't understand since it was possibly the most extensive alcohol menu you had ever seen... especially the wine menu with all the exquisite french names you could not wrap your head around.

"I-I'll just get what you're having," you shrug, as Joshua nodded towards the waiter.

"Make that two, thank you."

It fell silent between you two as you awkwardly played with your fingers on your lap, Joshua's eyes raking over you almost like he was attempting to read your mind.

"S-So your friends birthday... is it really okay if I bring a friend? It's just that, I-I won't know anyone else there and you'll probably be busy most of the time," you ask meekly, as Joshua nodded with a smile.

"Of course it's okay, the more the merrier right?"

"I just really wanted to make sure that's all, I had a friend in mind," you say as one of the waitresses was placing your dishes in front of you before bowing and walking away.

"Perfect, anyways.... I noticed you were a little lost on choosing a wine earlier, do you not drink much?" Joshua asked, motioning towards your plate before he was taking a bite of his clam pasta.

"Yeah I do, only when I'm out with friends and I don't usually get wine, I like soju and cocktails... I tried an expresso martini recently."

"Oh? How was that? It's my favourite," Joshua smiled.

"I loved it, it's one of my favourites now too," you reply before beginning to eat.

"Well I can introduce you to more wines everytime we have dinner together then," he said, as you felt the heat warm your cheeks.

"O-Okay thank you," you mumble, drawing out a chuckle from him before it fell silent again.

You both ate in silence, only exchanging small words about how good the food was before the waiter was coming back to take your plates away and placing the red wine bottle along with two wineglasses down on the table.

Joshua grabbed the bottle before pouring the dark red liquid into both your glasses.

You thanked him before grabbing your wineglass and taking a small sip.

"It's good right?" Joshua asked, as you looked at him wide eyed.

"This is... so much better than the red wine I've tasted before, how?" You ask in bewilderment, in awe at the sweetness of it before you were taking another gulp.

"It's a pretty popular French brand, you don't really get it everywhere, I'm glad you like it though."

You were about to ask him further before he was looking behind you, his eyebrows going up in shock.

"Seungcheol? Hey man what are you doing here?"

You turn to see where he's looking, your breath automatically being stuck in your throat when you looked up to see the somewhat familiar man.

"Hey Shua, I had a conference here— oh, am I interrupting something here," the man spoke, eyes zeroing on yours as you shift in your seat uncomfortably.

"Not at all... Y/N?" Joshua asks you, voice cutting through your thoughts as you shake your head unconsciously.

You watch as he sits next to Joshua, slowly rolling up his sleeves as his eyes never left yours.

"W-Wait aren't you..." you trailed off, almost unable to get the words out as Joshua frowned slightly.

"Cheol you know her?"

"Yeah... she's the one I was telling you about the other day.... the one I saw at my club who was getting harassed by that loser and I had to take her home—"

"W-Wait what?" You cut him off in confusion, your eyebrows furrowing as you stared at him from across the table.

"Yeah we had a couple of drinks, I got up to leave, then this drunk loser had his hands all over you so I got my security to kick him out, realised you were way too drunk to be alone in a bar like that, couldn't find your friends either so I asked for your apartment name so I could take you home safe.... actually it's good I got to see you again, I wanted to apologise because I entered your house without your explicit and sober consent—"

"No no you don't need to b-be sorry at all, I'm really glad I got home safe, thank you for that," you bow at him, still slightly dazed from the whole story.

"Also you mentioned your own security?" You add, eyebrows furrowing in curiosity.

"Darling, that was my club you walked in to, I own it," he spoke, chuckling softly when you don't respond right away.

"W-Wait like... it's yours?" You question dumbly, suddenly feeling even more awful that he did all of that for you.

"Yes," he answered shortly, as Joshua nodded.

"O-Oh my god, I'm so sorry you were probably busy and I—"

"Hey relax pretty, it really wasn't a problem for me, I’m glad I got you home safe though," he smiled at you widely, the cutest dimples you had ever seen sinking into his cheeks as you bit your lip.

you wondered if he was a taken man... yeah he definitely probably was.

"Yeah I’m glad your safe now, but maybe don't drink like that away from your friends Y/N, it's insane you can't even remember any of it," Joshua spoke, as you slowly nodded your head as you hesitantly took another sip of your wine.

"I definitely won't be.... It's crazy to me as well.. that I-I can't... remember..." you trailed off, gulping hard as your eyes fell to Seungcheol's dark ones, watching you intently.

You remembered what Umji had said earlier.... you tried seeing reason but you really couldn't find an explanation as to why you didn't remember a single thing to what he had just explained.

"Don't stress over it too much, too much alcohol can do that... maybe take a break from drinking for a while," Seungcheol spoke, his eyes leaving yours to trace over your body as you hugged yourself instinctively.

no something was definitely wrong.

"Y-Yeah I won't.... Joshua if it's okay with you can I leave? I can just get a taxi—"

"Nonsense, I bought you here so I'll take you back home safe too—"

"I was about to head out too anyway," Seungcheol cut through, before he was standing up as you and Joshua did the same.

"Perfect, why don't you both wait for me downstairs I'll just go pay," Joshua said, walking away from the both of you just as you were about to ask if you could come.

You hesitantly turn back to face Seungcheol as he already had his eyes on you. He motioned towards the elevator, before you slowly nodded and began walking in front of him.

Once the both of you were in the elevator it was dead silent, neither of you saying a word to each other but you could feel him glancing at you for a little too long, which was starting to make you uncomfortable.

You heard the elevator ding, signalling you had gotten to the ground floor, but Seungcheol was quick to click the close button.

"Wait what ar—"

It happened so quickly you felt as if the the air was knocked out of your throat, as Seungcheol pushed you up against the wall of the elevator, before bringing a finger up to his lips.

"Don't scream, or I won't be too happy about it."

You felt tears brim your eyes as the fear and confusion filled your mind, as Seungcheol towered over you with a smirk on his face.

"Think you catched on, hey doll?" He spoke, his voice an octave lower, in complete contrast to his easy going attitude earlier.

"W-What do you mean?" You stutter out, even though you knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Listen, I wanna make this quick before Joshua gets back.... say a word to anyone, anyone about this, and it won't end well, understand sweetheart?" He spat, voice dripping in faux sweetness as you felt a shudder go down your spine.

"D-Did you drug me?" You managed to make out, feeling the lone tear roll down your face before he was quick to wipe it away gently with his fingers.

"I really would hate to ruin your makeup and have Shua wonder what's wrong.... now promise me you won't say anything to him."

His grip on you tightened, as you let out a whimper while nodding feverently.

"I-I won't."

"That's my good girl. Now..... I'll see you the night of Shua's party so until then, not a word and remember you promised me... I really hate liars," he spat, before the elevator door was opening once again and he was dragging me out by his grip on my wrist.

"W-Wait... what do you w-want with me?" You ask meekly, as he scoffed before patting your head.

"You always this curious and annoying? Well we'll have to work on that... I'll see you this Saturday and we'll talk then—"

"A-And what makes you so sure I'll come? Look.... if you don't explain yourself and what happened that n-night I'll call the... the p-police on you!" You spat as confidently as you could muster, even though your knees were weak.

"Did you just.... threaten me?" Seungcheol asked you in shock, although something told you it was probably not a good idea to answer that.

this wasn't going to end well.

And just as you were about to make a run for it he grabbed your left wrist tightly, his eyes now a few shades darker as he licked his lips.

"You know what? Think Joshua can wait I'm not leaving tonight until I teach you a lesson."

Seungcheol began dragging you back inside the elevator as your heartbeat quickened, the warning lights blaring in your head as you aggressively tried to pull your wrist out of his grasp as he punched in level 20.

"L-Let go off me!" You screamed, yet his grip only tightened as he glared at you, eyes molten.

The second the doors opened he pulled you out as you realised you were on one of the residency floors. Your eyes widened in fear when you guys stopped in front of a door on the far end, before he was fishing through his pocket for a keycard.

"N-No....no," you whimper softly, tears filling your eyes and blurring your vision as he swiped it across the top of the door handle, before it opened with a ding.

Seungcheol pushed you in, closing the door behind him before he slammed you against it.

"You wanna fucking threaten me like that, you wanna call the cops on me? Huh? And where do you think that will get you baby?" He spat menacingly, hands gripping at your waist tightly as you cried helplessly.

"I-I'm sorry! Please just let me go and I-I won't tell anyone just please don��t hurt me," you helplessly beg, pushing your head back into the material of the door in an attempt to get away from the proximity of his face.

“Oh I won’t hurt you baby, at least just not yet…. but I am going to have to set you straight…. I really underestimated how difficult you would be,” he spat, his words almost like a riddle as it made no sense to you.

He bought his face impossibly closer to yours before his eyes were trailing all over your face, lingering longer on your quivering lips.

“I’m a very dangerous man sweetheart, so I wouldn’t fuck with me, understand? The police do not fucking scare me in fact, they can not help you…. so talk to me like that ever again or do so much as raise your voice, you’ll have to see me in a very different light, and you don’t want that, do you Y/N?” He growled, as you shook your head instantly.

“N-No I won’t…. do that again I promise,” you manage to make out, before he was finally moving away from you although his hands stayed firm on your waist.

“And how are you going to guarantee that for me?”

Your heart dropped as you stared at the man in front of you, your skin crawling as you tried coming up with a response.

“I-I don’t… know I… promise I won’t,” you almost whisper, as he smiles at you wickedly.

“That night at my bar? I did drug you… and unfortunately you won’t remember but we had quite some fun in the backseat of my car….” Seungcheol trailed off with a chuckle, as you only sobbed harder.

“…Don’t worry doll we didn’t fuck. Although I got to learn you are a pretty needy girl for someone that was fucked out on drugs,” he laughed, one hand leaving your waist to grip your jaw firmly as you hesitantly looked up into his eyes.

“W-Why,” you mumble, body shaking as he turned your head to the side before his plush lips was kissing your cheek tenderly.

“Like I said earlier, we’ll talk more at Shuas place…. I have things I need to tend to tonight so I don’t have the time…. although I do have enough time to make sure I’ll have you pliant and good for me by then…”

You bit your inner lip roughly as his other hand suddenly slipped into your jeans, his thick fingers pressing into your entrance as you squirmed in his hold.

“I’ll let you off without too much of a punishment since I feel like being somewhat kind to you tonight…. you know, first sober meeting and all,” he sighed, lips trailing from your cheek down to your neck, before you felt his tongue lay flat against your skin.

“P-Please don’t,” you whisper weakly, eyes wired shut as you tried ignoring his touches.

You heard him groan into your neck, his fingers toying with your folds through your panties before he was pushing himself against you, so you could feel how hard he was.

A shudder went down your spine as you tried to stay as still as possible, scared to move.

“Feel that baby? I’m sure you do….. speak up,” he spat irritatedly when you don’t respond instantly.

“Y-Yes,” you nod shortly, body shaking profusely as he smiled widely at the utter fear that radiated off you.

you were so fucking cute, he needed to ruin you.

“Think I found a perfect way you could make it sure to me you won’t go prancing downstairs and tell Joshua… or the police….” Seungcheol trailed off, as you hesitantly looked into his dark eyes.

“H-How,” you whispered, but he’s quick to catch on as he smiles down at you, his hand finally slipping out of you jeans.

“Well I have something you can take care of for me, and I’ll let you go back downstairs,” he said, tilting his head to the side as he waited for you to answer.

“O-Okay… what do I have to do?” You choke on a sob, as both his hands find purchase on your waist once again, before he was leaning into your ear.

“Easy, just suck me off nice and good.”

“S-Seungcheol please just let me—”

“Come on baby it’s a pretty fair deal… but I wasn’t really asking so get on your knees, I’ll count to 5.”

You gulp thickly at his stern voice, hesitantly nodding before he was backing away slightly to give you some space.

“5…4…”

You were beyond scared, confused, and honestly terrified of what the man in front of you could do… so to save yourself from whatever was waiting at the end of his countdown you reluctantly got on your knees.

“Good, I knew you’d come around,” he smiled smugly, before he began undoing his pants and sliding them down along with his boxers.

You shuddered at the size of his length, the veins on the under side protruding as you involuntarily squeezed your thighs together.

“Oh sweetheart don’t be scared, I promise I won’t break your jaw,” Seungcheol chuckled, before one of his hands was grabbing his heavy cock before guiding it to tap against your closed lips as you tried not to sqiurm.

“Now get to work, put that pretty mouth of yours to good use,” he spat, snickering down at you as his free hand thread through your hair.

You slowly part your lips, hesitantly darting your tongue out to lick the head as you cringed inwardly at the salty taste.

Suddenly his grip in your hair tightened as a warning to keeping going, making you reluctantly open your mouth wider to take him down your throat, sucking sounds filling the air around you as you tried to take as much as you possibly could.

“Fuck just like that baby, should’ve known you’d be good at this— fuck!” Seungcheol groaned, his deep voice sending tingles down your body as you tried to ignore it, focusing on getting this over with.

When you don’t move quick enough, Seungcheol growls angrily before using his grip on your hair to slam his cock deeper down your throat as you almost scream around his length, his grip on your hair moving your head up and down.

You hesitantly trail your teary eyes up at him, his pretty lashes on display and his mouth hung open as a string of moans slipped out, all while he pushes you completely forward until your nose bumps into his happy trail, your whimpers of protest completely disregarded by him.

“Gonna makes sure you swallow every last drop of my cum…” he sighs, throwing his head back as you feel him twitch in your mouth, your muffled whimpers of resistance and spit only making him move your head faster as he chased his orgasm.

You try to keep up as you can barely breathe, gagging around him before he finally releases down your throat in big spurts with a heavy groan, hand on your head still firm as he pulls you off his cock to watch you swallow everything down.

“You did so fucking well for me, your just perfect,” he smiled down at you, his thumb rubbing at your bottom lip as you hesitantly smiled small, praying he’d let you go now.

Seungcheol helped you stand up again, before he was pulling his pants back on, a satisfied expression on his face as he watched you wipe your lips with the back of your hand.

“C-Can I go now?” You ask, voice cracking as your throat was beyond sore.

“Not just yet baby…. think you almost had as much fun as I did, I bet your soaking.”

“N-No I—”

“Don’t even bother sweetheart I saw how you were shifting your thighs pathetically, god….. bet if I checked right now I’d find your pussy all puffy and in need for attention hm?” He egged on, as you shake your head feverishly.

“Fine… take off your pants, along with your panties.”

Your eyes widen as you look at him in worry, he promised to let you go after.

“Relax angel I won’t do anything tonight, just do as I say for now.”

You hesitantly comply, bending down slightly to pull off your pants along with your very much soaked panties. You hiss as the cold air surrounds your bare pussy but you’re quick to frown to hide it.

“Now give me your panties, and put your pants back on,” he says casually, as you have no choice but to comply.

You shyly hand it to him, before you’re quick to pull your pants back on.

“Fuck…. you were soaked baby, just look at this,” he mused, pushing your soiled light pink panties up to your view as you looked away in shame.

“See baby…. you really can’t deny me…” he trailed off, bunching up the undergarment into his pocket before pinching your cheek lightly.

“It’s a shame I don’t have time, or I would’ve helped,” Seungcheol frowned, his dimples slightly visibly before he was staring at you with the same blank expression.

“Now…. I did make myself clear right? Don’t you dare tell anyone about any of this, let that ache in your throat be a reminder… and I better see you this Saturday all pretty and dolled up for me, do you understand?”

“Yes…. yes I understand,” you found yourself complying to his words, before he gave you a smile and a peck on your cheek.

“Good girl, now go downstairs and tell Joshua you wanted to use the bathroom but got lost, and that I left already.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, turning around to open the door before slowly walking out.

“And baby? Fix your hair and pretty gloss, you look ravaged,” Seungcheol laughed at you, before closing the door.

You slowly walking down the corridor back to the elevator, the defeaning silence engulfing you as you tried making sense of the entire situation.

what the hell just happened…. were you in danger?

you couldn’t understand or even remember everything he had said to you.

Taking a deep breath in you clicked on the lobby floor before fixing your hair and wiping the corners of your lips off anything.

should you really not tell Joshua?

“Oh hey…. Where were you?” Joshua pretended to be confused as you walked out of the elevator, like Seungcheol hadn’t quickly texted him to tell him everything that happened, not in too much detail.

Seungcheol wanted to know just how obedient you really were, see if you could keep something like that to yourself without telling Joshua.

“Sorry I was… trying to find the bathroom but I got lost, y-your friend left early,” you mumble as he chuckles before motioning towards the exit of the building.

“Ahh I see, well let’s head home it’s late.”

The ride back to your apartment was defeaning as you tried to remain as still as possible, your lower region pressed uncomfortably against the material of your jeans.

You felt used, Seungcheol’s touches still lingering everywhere and his words echoing in your mind.

“Are you okay Y/N? You’ve been a little quiet since we left.”

Joshua’s job: try to see if you’ll really crack.

“No I’m fine… just tired thats all,” you say, praying he can’t hear how hoarse your voice had gotten but Joshua knew, as he could only chuckle lightly.

“Okay.”

You let out a sigh when your apartment building came into view, before Joshua was stopping the car.

“Thank you for tonight, I hope your enjoyed and sorry again about my friend joining…. although I’m still shocked you guys already knew each other.”

“No thank you for dinner, and yeah… I wasn’t expecting that,” you say, praying he’d say goodnight and let you go sleep.

“I know he can be really intimidating, hope he didn’t scare you too much,” He joked, but you could only gulp at your words.

“Uhh no, not at yall, he was nice.”

“Well…. I’m glad, goodnight Y/N. I might not see you at the cafe tomorrow so see you at my house?”

“Of course, goodnight.” You’re quick to say with a small smile, before slipping out of the expensive car.

Joshua watched with curious eyes as you speed walked into your building, before he was pulling his phone out to call Seungcheol.

“That poor thing, she could barely speak Cheol you shouldn’t have been that rough… what happened to waiting anyways?” Joshua chuckles, knowing very well his long time best friend wasn’t always known for having the most patience.

[cinnamonmilf]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨bound୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

summary: your girlfriend thinks you are gonna be the one wearing the handcuffs…uhhhhh

cw: sub!vi, smut with no plot, established rs

It’s been a long day. Completely uneventful and full of missing your girlfriend. You finally hear the rattle of your girlfriend’s pair of keys opening the door. Music to your ears.

You had sent her a text earlier telling her you had a little surprise for her when she got home. She, too, had spent those hours thinking about you, anxiously wondering what you had planned. Knowing you, it was either really good or really bad.

“Babe?”

“I’m in the room!” You respond and your sweet voice already has her feeling a little weak in the knees. After all, she hadn’t heard it in so long (eight hours).

She makes her way on the bed next to you and kisses you with a grin on her face. You indulge in the kiss, deepening it and bringing her closer to you. Feeling your plump lips against hers, your soft tongue inside her mouth and your soft hair through her fingers while she holds the back of your head was everything she needed.

You break the kiss and look at her with starry eyes and right then and there she thinks she could die from how much she adores you.

“You remember the surprise?” You break her trance.

“Hm?” She asks already love drunk and barely processing your words.

You bite your lip with a smile and pull a pair of handcuffs from under your pillow, letting them hang in front of her face.

She raises her eyebrow and a smirk forms on her face. “Where’d you even get those?”

“Online.” You shrug.

She swiftly takes them off your hand, examining them before cockily motioning for you to turn around. You laugh and take them back from her. Jesus, she can be naive.

“I’m not the one wearing them,” you tell her, now being the one smirking.

After (barely any) protesting, you slowly undress your girlfriend down to her briefs and wife-lover. Kissing every inch of her face, neck, shoulders. Vi loves your touch and you are aware of how weak it makes her; it gets her going.

“Turn around for me,” you ask softly. She complies, obediently putting her hands behind her. You are gonna have so much for for her.

You turn her back around and lie her down in her back. She’s completely at your disposal. And there’s something about seeing your ridiculously strong girlfriend this vulnerable for you that goes straight to your cunt and damps your lacy panties.

You take your time. Trailing her body with kisses. Kissing, sucking and biting on the inside of her strong thighs and relishing on the way she bites her lip trying to hide her not-so-subtle pants and whines every time your mouth even grazes her skin. You can tell her underwear has a [growing] wet spot by now, but you can’t help but torturing a little bit more.

Red and purple marks start appearing all over her body. Each of them a reminder that she is all yours. Only you could ever have her like this.

She has a growing wet spot on her briefs by now. You probably should’ve given her what she wanted by now, be nice. But how could you help yourself when she looks so pretty all desperate for you, though?

“Please,” she finally says. Her brows are furrowed and her lip is nearly bleeding from how much she’s been biting into it.

“Hm? What do you want?”

She whines. She’s can’t take it anymore and all she can think of is your tongue inside her finally relieving her from the all-consuming ache she is feeling right now. She needs you so fucking bad.

“Please, baby. Please, I need your mouth.” God, she’s pathetic.

“Here?” You ask before licking a stripe over her soaking cunt through her underwear.

She moans, loud. “Fuck, yes! Please.”

Honestly, how could you say no to those glossy puppy eyes?

You finally discard her briefs and give her what she so desperately craves. You wrap your arms around her legs and lap at her pussy. She’s so fucking sweet. The way she further soaks your face only encourages you to keep going.

You look up to see her and all you can think of is how beautiful she looks like this: so whiny and sweaty and completely fucked out.

You shift one of your hands from the back of her legs to the hem of her shirt, lifting it up to get access to her perky tits. She’s so sensitive, the moment you squeeze one of them and begin playing with it, little “Fuck, so good”’s and “Just like that”’s pour out of her.

She can’t even touch you. Her cheeks are fully flushed and she can’t stop herself from saying your name over and over, it’s all she can manage to say at this point.

Her legs begin shaking, closing around your head. “Fuck, babe, s’too much.”

You chuckle. “Can’t take it? Hm?” You mock. And she hates to admit it, but it only turns her on more.

She pleads for you to slow down, but you aren’t having any of it. You keep working your mouth on her, putting two fingers inside her. She fucking loses it.

One thing about Vi: she’s loud. You have her moaning and begging and, quite frankly, on the verge of tears. It’s nothing short of adorable.

You can feel her getting close. Her walls beginning to clench around your fingers, her eyes fully rolled back, her mouth muttering nonsense.

“I need to cum. Please.” Oh, you know.

“Come for me, beautiful. Want you to come in my mouth.”

That’s all she needed. She lets out a pornographic moan, wanting nothing more than to tug at your hair and push you impossibly closer to her. All she can do is be a good girl for you and take it.

She completely lets go, welcoming her climax in the safety of your touch. You don’t think you’ve ever seen such a pretty sight. If you could fuck her all day long, you truly would.

Once you let her ride out her orgasm on your face and fingers, you take them out of her to taste her one last time before kissing her. Softly cupping her face and letting her melt into you.

You kiss her cheek and she opens her eyes to see you…and the grin you are already trying to hide from her.

“Can you give me one more?”

-

a/n: hello :3 i’m so sorry this is bad, i am rusty AS FUCK. i haven’t written anything in like eight months but i swear i’ll get my talent back as i keep practicing lmfao. i’ll keep writing for ellie (obvi) and also caitlyn but yeah this is my first time writing for vi so i hope it doesn’t flop too much. anyway love u !

tagging my bae @sunflowerwinds

[dwaekkicidal]

CAN WE HAVE CHAN FOR THE TOYS SERIES NEXT PLEASE 🙏

(idk if you're taking ideas or not (ignore this if you're not) but chan and size training w a dildo?? like it's been in you all day by now, and at the end of the day he's just sat in between your legs pushing it in and out 😵‍💫)

i wasnt gonna take ideas but this is so hot. you win my heart

Toys with Bang Chan

wc» 1.2k

cw» fem!reader, sex toy usage, mentions of various sized dildos, size training, quite a lot of dirty talk, p in v, dp in one hole (with a dildo lol), he's a bit mean in the 2nd part hehe (im not sorry, argue with the wall), i think thats it

an» blame my imposter syndrome for this taking so long (along with the other like 4 drafts i have finished lol)

'Toys' Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Channie size training you to take his big cock with alternating sized dildos…….. He’s just too big and he’s deathly afraid of actually hurting you and breaking you apart- no matter how pretty you look begging for him to just “give it to you.”

And then once you can finally take his cock all the way, he likes to push you a step forward and size train your cunt to dp with him AND a dildo… I’ll write a tiny blurb for both because OH my god

“Yeahhh, just like that, baby. See- you’re almost there.” His husky voice makes you keen and your legs shake in his hold. “Just a few more inches~”

He has you face down, ass up with one of his pretty hands digging into your thigh and holding you in place. There was enough lube on the dildo that you could feel it dripping down your thighs. It almost felt like too much, but each thick inch of the dildo that he shoved past your folds made the excess lube feel like barely enough.

“Chris…” Your cheek sinks further into the mattress and you can feel drool seeping pasting your lips onto the sheets. He coos and rubs his thumb on the underside of your asscheek. A mix of your last orgasms and the lube bunch up along your hole and he dips your finger in beside the toy, just to tease you a little further. And when you moan dazedly and push back against him, he knows you can take even more.

Chan pulls his finger out and simultaneously pushes his other wrist harder. “Chris- oh my god…” The dildo bottoms out and Chan lets out a laugh of disbelief when he sees the strings the sticky concoction leaves between the dildo and your cunt as he pulls it away. You hear his signature giggle as he runs his free hand over your ass, his other holding the dildo deep in place inside of you.

“How’s that feel? Nice and full?” Uh-huh… He giggles again and rises off his knees, moving to stand behind you so that his bulge pushes against the base of the dildo and holds it in place for him. The action makes you moan, then again when both his hands rub up your back soothingly. “You did so well, baby girl. I’m so proud of you- and this well behaved pussy.”

He grinds his hips again and the first few inches of the dildo shove right against your g-spot. The feeling makes you cum suddenly, legs shaking and fingers nearly tearing the sheets off the bed. Chan laughs into your shoulder and sneaks his hand around your front, softly rubbing circles into your clit to help ride it out. “That’s it, honey- Oooh it’s a big one, yeah? haha...”

~Now that you’re consistently stretched out and able to take the biggest of the dildos, Chan is adamant on you taking his cock everytime you two fuck. He’s spent so long patiently stretching your cunt and holding himself back for your sake. He doesn’t regret it in the slightest! However, he does think you owe him just a little bit… So he loves self indulging and really stretching you out.

“God. This fuckin’ pussy is gonna be the death of me.” His dull nails dig into your hips as he grabs onto you harder, pulling you into his thrusts so harshly that the only part of you touching the bed is your hands and your face- your back arched aggressively from how high he lifts your hips. He hasn’t even looked at your face since your last orgasm, he’s way too in it now to look away from your swollen cunt. “Need’a cum in this slutty hole.”

“It’s too much- fuck!” He frowns at your cries and pushes his hips impossibly harder, making each moan of yours cut of from how harshly he’s fucking into you at this point.

“Too much?” He scoffs and tangles a hand in your hair, pulling you up to meet his face. He’s just as surprised as you are that he’s angry about your comment, but he decides that a little bit of indulging won’t kill you- it might kill your pussy though… “Yeah- OK, honey. You want ‘too much,’ I’ll give you ‘too much’.”

The venom in his voice is enough to scare you straight, but it’s not until he shoves your upper back into the sheets and digs into your nightstand that the chills break out. You trust him with your life, and you can’t deny the ache in your stomach at the inkling of what he might want.

The best part is he doesn’t even have to put any lube; your cunt is leaking enough to flood the entire bedroom. You feel the all too familiar silicone of the dildo rubbing against your clit, teasing around it like he tended to before he started fucking you with it back when he was still size training you. But… I guess this still is technically size training.

Your jaw drops and your head pushes back against his hand when he slides the tip of the dildo inside of you alongside his cock. Of course he would choose the thickest of the set. The stretch is insane and nearly feels like it’s tearing you in half. Your head pushes against his hand again and he basically growls at you, voice dropping and other hand pushing you harder into the bed. “Stop. You know your safeword if you need it.”

Despite the attitude, he stops completely and sits still long enough for you to decide if you really can take it or not. And- ohh when you push your hips into him and whine out into the bed, he’s grinning from ear to ear. “That’s what I thought.” He pushes the dildo deeper, only choosing to give you less than half the length of it considering how thick he was on his own, let alone him AND the dildo together.

He knows you like the back of his hand, so the second you grow quiet and you clench around him constantly against your will, he knows you’re almost there. “Cum for me, baby. Give me it and I’ll fill you even more, yea?” He slowly starts fucking himself into you again, using every ounce of self control to hold himself back so he can simultaneously fuck the dildo in and out of you- at an even slower pace than his hips. Normally you would whine and cry about it, but he’s fucked you nice and stupid to the point where you can barely think outside of anything other than how stuffed to the brim you are.

Somehow, he’s the one who cums first. It’s a mixture of seeing you broken into a million pieces, all for him to happily put back together later, and feeling your death grip around him that really sends him over the edge. And he’s never one to leave you hanging. So the second he pulls out, he’s fucking the dildo into you so quickly that your orgasm blindsides you.

“Atta girl~ Good job, baby.” He tosses the dildo to the side and helps you flip onto your back. You feel him smile against your stomach as he kisses up and down your body. “...I wanna go again. Haha….”

Taglist: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @honeyybbuubblleess

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams @velvetmoonlght

@aeri-skzver

[berryz-writes]

Blue

Azriel x reader

Summary: There's a large contrast between the warm and gentle Az you get to enjoy versus the cold and quiet demeanour he reserves for others

Note: FIRST FULL WEEK I HAVE THINGS PLANNED OUT FOR. this isn't entirely my favourite but fuck it we ball <33 enjoy lovelies

@azrielappreciationweek day 1

The kitchen is a warm, flour-dusted haven, filled with the sweet scent of sugar and vanilla as Azriel leans over my shoulder, watching me whisk the batter with an amused glint in his eyes.

“You know,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my neck, “you could just let me do that.” He slips his arms around my waist, pulling me gently against him. “Your hands might get tired.”

I laugh, nudging him with my elbow. “I think I can handle a little whisking.” I turn to face him, catching the soft, rare smile that lights his face, the one that only appears when it’s just us. I lean up, brushing a light kiss to his lips, and feel him pull me closer, his fingers resting at the small of my back.

“Hmm,” he hums, deep and quiet, his lips lingering just a moment longer. “You taste like sugar.”

“You’re distracting me,” I say, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

“Good,” he replies, his voice low. His gaze drops to the cupcakes cooling on the counter, and he raises an eyebrow. “They’re missing something.”

“Exactly,” I sigh, surveying the icing jars and realizing I’ve run out of the last colour I need. I hesitate, glancing at him, knowing he’s had a long week of missions and should probably be resting. But he just tilts his head, a patient smile on his face, like he already knows what I’m about to ask.

“Could you pick up more icing for me?” I ask, brushing a bit of flour off his cheek, unable to hide my smile. “Please?”

He chuckles softly, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “Anything for you.” There’s a gentle warmth in his eyes, a soft devotion that melts me from the inside out.

As he steps back, he squeezes my hand. “Save a few for me?”

“All of them,” I reply with a grin, watching as he heads to the door, wings stretching wide in the golden afternoon light. He gives me one last look before taking off, a dark silhouette against the sky.

Azriel's POV

Flying over the city, my mind lingers on her, the soft warmth of her laugh, the way her eyes light up when I walk into the room. She’s goddess incarnate, far too perfect for me.

The cold air rushes past as I fly, enjoying the time to stretch out my wings to their fullest.

But halfway through my journey, I feel Rhysand’s voice slip into my thoughts, quiet and laced with urgency.

Azriel, we have a guest in the dungeons. I need answers from him if you're available, it's urgent

I think about his words. Maybe if it had been a few months ago Rhys wouldn't have added the part of me being "available" knowing I was waiting at the chance to distract my mind. But ever since y/n walked into my life it was getting easier and easier to spend days doing nothing except enjoy her company. No torture sessions. No constant dagger sharpening. Just time spent with her.

Fine.

Was the simple reply I gave. It would only take a few minutes of my time.

The warmth I felt just minutes ago fades as I turn, heading down toward the underground jail, where shadows and silence reign. My shadows coil tighter around me, sharper, attuned to the work at hand as I descend into the dim halls of the dungeon.

The heavy door creaks open, and I step inside to find the prisoner chained to a chair, his gaze faltering as he meets mine. He tries to summon some defiance, but I can see the fear flicker beneath it, his breaths shallow as my shadows drift closer, surrounding him in darkness. This won’t take long.

I approach him slowly, letting each step echo off the stone walls. Leaning forward, I let my voice drop to a low, controlled murmur, knowing how much more effective a whisper can be. “Let's make this quick. Tell me everything you know"

I didn't have to elaborate on what I meant by everything. He knew what I was here for and I would get it one way or another.

He’s silent at first, eyes darting, and I can see him calculating his options. But there’s no fight in him, not against what he senses I’m capable of. My shadows close in, tightening like a noose around him, each word I speak dripping with cold intent.

After a slow drag of my dagger down the column of his neck the information begins to spill out, fast and frantic. I listen carefully, never blinking, absorbing each detail.

No need for lost blood; I extract every piece with surgical precision, each question laced with the promise of what could happen if he resists. Soon, he’s left shuddering, broken, and silent.

I silently thank the cauldron he didn't make this difficult otherwise I would have to clean up before getting to my wife and the thought of keeping her waiting was not something I enjoyed.

Before I leave, I pause, tilting my head as I look down at him with one last, almost casual question. “Pick a colour.”

His face twists in confusion, fear giving way to bewilderment. “Uh… blue,” he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper.

I give him a curt nod, acknowledging his choice before I turn and leave him to the shadows that linger. As I step into the fresh air aboveground, I make my way to a small shop, selecting a container of bright blue icing, a flash of colour that feels strange against the cold efficiency of what I’ve just done.

When I arrive home, I find her at the counter, surrounded by stacks of sweet heaven. She lights up as she sees me, her eyes crinkling with happiness. "Az! Thank you my love" she says, taking the container and pressing a warm kiss to my cheek.

I'd be lying if i said I didn't melt.

But then she pauses, glancing at me, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze. “What took so long?”

I shake my head, not wanting her to worry “You don’t need to worry” I murmur, my voice gentle. “Rhys just needed something done”

She watches me closely, as if weighing my words, a knowing look in her eyes. But she doesn’t press. Instead, she smiles softly, letting her fingers brush over mine as she returns to her cupcakes.

I linger there, watching her work, feeling the lightness return to my chest as I settle back into the life we share. She doesn’t push, and I’m grateful.

With her I feel like life is worth living.

note: should have azriel year tbh

[dreamauri]

hii! if ur okay with it, could i request a smut for sub!lando where he gets all whiny and soo loud before he cums that we always have to slap a hand over his mouth. maybe he gets a bit upset because he knows he can’t help it but we think it’s cute regardless

♪ — 𝗞𝗘𝗘𝗣 𝗤𝗨𝗜𝗘𝗧 lando norris x girlfriend! reader (smut) fic summary . . . lando has always been loud in bed—whiny, desperate, completely incapable of keeping quiet when he’s falling apart. and, similarly to every other time you’ve had to clamp a hand over his mouth, he gets a little pouty about it after (961 words)

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )

CONTENT WARNING — ( +18 MDNI, smut, sub! lando, dom! reader, p n v sex, overstim if you squint, hand-over-mouth, whining a lot from lando, mild embarrassment)

The elevator ride up to your hotel room is unbearable.

Lando is pressed against the mirrored wall, looking at you with blown-wide eyes, the faintest hint of a pout on his lips. His fingers twitch at his sides, like he wants to touch you but knows better than to make the first move. He’s already restless, shifting from foot to foot, as if every second not spent under your touch is physically painful.

It’s adorable.

It’s infuriating.

Because he has no idea how worked up you are too.

When the doors slide open, Lando nearly trips over himself trying to follow you to the room. The moment the door clicks shut, he’s on you, hands grabbing at your hips, mouth slanting over yours in a rushed, needy kiss. His breath is uneven, and when you tug at the hem of his shirt, he lets out a soft, breathy whimper that goes straight to your core.

“Eager, are we?” you tease, dragging your nails lightly down his chest when you pull his shirt off.

Lando’s face burns. “Shut up.”

But the effect is ruined when you press your lips to his collarbone, kissing down, down, down until he shudders under the attention. His hands find your hips again, fingers pressing in, not to take control but to ground himself.

“You’re so cute when you’re impatient,” you murmur against his skin, delighting in the way his breath hitches.

You make quick work of his belt, tugging his pants down, grinning when his cock strains against his briefs. He’s already so worked up, shifting on his feet, whining softly when you rub your palm over him through the fabric.

“Please,” Lando breathes, resting his forehead against yours. His voice is high and needy, a touch of frustration there, like he knows he’s embarrassing himself but can’t help it.

Your heart squeezes at how utterly desperate he is for you.

“Say it properly.”

Lando groans, but he obeys. “Please, can we—fuck, I need you so bad.”

That’s all you needed to hear.

You shove his underwear down, pushing him onto the bed, stripping off your own clothes as you go. Lando’s pupils are huge as he watches you climb onto him, straddling his hips. His fingers dig into your thighs, and when you lean down to kiss him, he lets out the sweetest little whimper.

“You’re so sensitive, baby,” you murmur against his lips, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone.

His blush deepens, and he makes a tiny, frustrated sound in the back of his throat. “I can’t help it.”

“I know.” You kiss down his chest, trailing your tongue over his skin, feeling the way his body trembles beneath you. His grip tightens on your hips as he shifts beneath you, unconsciously rutting up. “I love how responsive you are.”

Lando makes a wrecked noise at that, his hips stuttering as you move lower, pressing kisses along his stomach. “You’re— fuck, you’re so mean.”

You laugh, delighted, before reaching down and wrapping your hand around his shaft. The sound Lando makes is obscene, a breathy, high-pitched moan as he bucks into your grip. He’s so needy, his whole body tense with anticipation.

When you finally sink down onto him, his head falls back against the pillows, a long, drawn-out moan slipping from his lips. His hands grip your hips, and his breathing is erratic as he watches you move, completely at your mercy.

“You feel so good,” Lando whines, his voice trembling.

You grab his hands, threading your fingers through his, pinning them beside his head. His pupils are completely blown, his breath coming in short, needy gasps as you set a slow, teasing pace. He squirms beneath you, his whimpers getting higher and louder with every movement.

“Keep quiet for me, baby,” you whisper, covering his mouth with your hand when his moans get too loud.

Lando practically melts, hips stuttering up as he lets out a desperate sound from the back of his throat. His eyes flutter shut, his whole body trembling beneath you as you keep moving, keep pulling those beautiful, broken noises from him.

It’s adorable.

It’s also a problem.

Because he’s a screamer, and while you love hearing the pretty sounds he makes, the walls aren’t exactly soundproof. Lando’s always been loud—whiny, desperate, completely unable to hold himself back when he’s unraveling beneath you.

He’s flushed from his chest up to his ears, face pressed back into the pillow. Every little thrust of your hips pulls another wrecked sound from his throat, high-pitched and needy, and you know it’s only getting worse.

"Baby," you warn, hand smoothing down his heaving chest. He shakes his head against the pillow, already panting, already teetering.

"I c-can’t," he stutters, voice breaking as he fists the sheets even tighter. "I c-can't help it—"

Oh, you know.

And just as expected, when you roll your hips just right, he nearly sobs—loud, shameless, enough that you have to slap a hand over his mouth before he gets the whole damn hotel involved.

Lando whimpers beneath your palm, eyes squeezed shut, hips stuttering as he bucks up into you. He’s gone, completely wrecked, muscles trembling as he lets himself go.

When he finally comes down, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from where he’s been biting at them, he looks at you with a little pout—half-dazed, half-embarrassed.

“I—” He hesitates. “I hate how loud I get.”

Your heart squeezes. You kiss his forehead, his nose, his lips, whispering against his mouth, “I don’t.”

Lando’s cheeks burn deeper, but he can’t hide the little smile tugging at his lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re adorable.”

Lando groans, burying his face in your neck, but the way his arms wrap around you tightly tells you everything you need to know.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Family Vacation

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut!

You and Lando have been dating for half a year now and the time has finally come to meet his family. You've been putting off that obligation as long as you could, but Lando was too eager for you to meet them given the fact that he fell hard for you. Lando never introduced any of his previous girlfriends to his parents because he never felt that something with any of them to take that step.

But when it comes to you.. He never had a doubt in his mind. You may not have been his first girlfriend, but you were the first one he was sure of.

And so as soon as Lando had a week off from racing, he took it upon himself to organize a family vacation. You hesitated at first because you were racking your brains about whether they would like you, what topics you'd talk about, what if you say something wrong in front of them and similar things to which Lando just laughed sweetly.

It took him two days to convince you that everything will be fine, that you don't need to worry about anything because he will be by your side all the time and won't leave you alone at any moment.

You trusted him and you felt safe next to him and you also knew that you were probably worrying for no reason so soon five days in a hotel in Mallorca with his family didn't sound so bad anymore.

And it wasn't bad at all. Already after the first day spent with them you felt more than accepted. Everyone loved you immediately. Lando didn't let go of your hand as he had promised, but when he saw you chatting alone on the beach with his mom, he beamed.

In the sun on the beach and in good company, the days were passing quickly. You were all together at the beach and at family dinners every day. You and Lando didn't have much time for yourself, but that wasn't the goal of this trip anyway, so you weren't complaining.

But Lando though.. Towards the end of the vacation he started to get impatient. Too eager for you. You hadn't seen each other for two weeks before this and it was getting too much for him to not feel you for that long.

You were loud and clear about no sex while his family is with you even though you were in the hotel, but still you didn't feel comfortable and you weren't gonna risk getting yourself into any awkward situations.

But Lando was tempted.

"Lan can you put lotion on my back please?" You asked after getting out of shower and drying yourself off.

"Sure, come here."

You got sunburned after lying on the beach all day. Your skin was really red so after showering you put on your bikini again to let your skin breathe and absorb the lotion.

Lando was sitting out on the balcony that had a nice lounge set with a sofa, coffee table and a chair. You found him sitting on the sofa and scrolling through his phone. You sat down beside him turning him your back and moving your hair out of the way so he can rub the lotion all over your back.

"Fuck baby, you're so red" He says looking at your burning skin.

"I know, it's really bad" You sigh.

"Does it hurt you?" He asks gently pressing his hand against your skin watching as the white print remains when he removes it.

"Yeah.."

He scoots closer to you and squeezes the lotion into his palm and slowly begins to spread it all over your skin. As the cold cream hits your hot skin, you let out a long low moan in satisfaction. It comes as the music to Lando's ears making him gulp burning his eyes into your back as his hands moved in circular motions.

"Feels good?" He asks.

"Mhm..so good" You let out another moan completely oblivious to the fact that it made his blood rush down to his cock.

His fingers found the strings of your bikini top as he slowly untied them letting them fall down to your sides.

"What are you doing?" You chuckle putting your hand over your boobs to keep the bikini on while the other hand keeps holding your hair up.

"Just making sure I get the lotion everywhere" He smirks attaching his lips to your perfectly exposed neck as his hands move to your front side under your bikini top.

"Lan, stop.." You whisper leaning back into him letting your head rest on his shoulder as he keeps squeezing your boobs.

"I can't" He murmurs before lightly biting your neck. "I've been hard all day watching you in that tiny bikini." His hand slowly trails down your stomach sneaking inside your bikini bottoms while his other hand remains up playing with your nipple. "Can't take it anymore."

"I c-can literally hear your parents t-talking.." You barely manage to get the sentence out trying to warn him that your balcony is next to theirs, but Lando ignores your concern.

"I know you want it, I can feel how wet you are" He says pulling you closer to him as his fingers glide over your wet folds. "You just gotta be quiet, baby"

You wanted to resist him, but you just couldn't bring yourself to. It's been more than two weeks, way too long, since the last time he made you cum and you craved it as much as he did. So when Lando asked "you gonna be quiet for me?" you found yourself nodding carelessly and eagerly.

"That's my good girl" He says quietly kissing your shoulder. You swallow a moan as he attaches his finger to your aroused clit that was aching for pressure.

"You like it when I touch you there?" The profanities that he was whispering into your ear while he was doing such dirty things to you out here on the balcony, where anybody could hear you and see you, turned you on like never before. You nodded at his question unable to open your eyes knowing that if you had tried to speak, you wouldn't have been able to cover your loud moans.

"Did you touch yourself while I was gone?" He asks again slipping two of his fingers inside you making your hips grind against them.

"Fuck, Lando.." You whine gripping on his hand that was fingering you.

"Did you?" Your cheeks flushed at his question. No matter how horny you were, you were still too shy to admit that you touched yourself to the thought of him almost every night. "Don't get shy on me now, baby. I won't let you cum if you don't answer me." He teased.

"I did" You whimper biting your lip.

"Was it as good as when I do it?"

"N-no. Your fingers feel much better."

"I know, baby, I know" He groans at your confession adding the third finger in and quickening his pace in and out of you determined to have you make a mess on them.

"I can feel you clenching already. Missed my touch that much?"

"Yeah, uh-I'm-ah-" He didn't even need any warning from you that you were about to cum. He knew it when he felt your body tremble so he put his hand over your mouth as you turned into a hot mess under his touch finishing all over his fingers.

He calmed you down by leaving lazy kisses all over your neck down to your shoulder. When your breathing became steady and controlled again, you finally turned around to face him.

He put his hand against your cheek looking at you with parted lips as his thumb slid over your bottom lip. His other hand palmed the bulge that was popping out through his shorts.

"You gonna be a good girl and spread your legs for me?" He asked untying your bikini and completely removing it from your body.

"Make yourself comfortable" You smirked giving him a quick kiss before standing up between his legs. He remained sitting when he pulled down his shorts closely following your every move. Before you were about to settle down on his cock between his legs he stopped you turning you around so that your crotch was aligned with his face.

"Wanna taste you" Your fingers tangled into his hair as his tongue worked over your slit collecting your juices and swallowing it only to have him spit out his saliva against your pussy. You moaned as you felt drips of it sliding down your thighs.

"Fuck, can't get enough of you" He sighed gritting his teeth.

You turned around again and crouched down holding onto his thighs. His eyes rolled back in his head as you sunk down on him. His hand rested on your lower back, his eyes locked on his favorite view - you bouncing up and down on him.

"Taking me so well..fuck" He says moving his hands to your hips and slowing you down. You slowed down your movements then stopped moving completely. You started squirming on him so you could feel him deep inside you before restoring the fast pace.

He was groaning, cursing quietly under his breath as you worked your hips against him. It took you by surprise when he abruptly pulled his cock out of you.

"Ahh, fuck, baby" He sighed pressing his cock against your butt and smearing the precum that was leaking from his tip against you ass cheek. "gonna make me cum early"

"Lan, put it back inside me" When you went back to your previous actions, he was already on the edge. He tried to stop you again, but you didn't let him instead you kept going urging him "fill me up, Lan"

"Baby, fuck, I'm gonna cum, oh fuck.." His voice quivered before shooting his load inside you. You kept riding him through his orgasm making his head fall back against the sofa as his hands gripped your hips tighter making you wince a little.

As you stood up, he watched as his cum ran down your thighs. He sucked in a harsh breath at the sight that almost made him hard again.

"Come here" He said pulling you down to him. You sat beside him and put your legs over his lap. He put his arm around you and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "You did so good" He said and you blushed a little.

"I love you, baby" He whispered before lifting you up into his arms and taking you into the bedroom.

[quackfallbackhq]

Please give us some Sinister mark or Mohawk mark, I love crazy bratty boys 🙏

Brat Tamer Edition

Here since I was feeling generous I give you some NSFW headcanons of Sinister Mark and Mohawk Mark with a top male reader who knows exactly how to put their bratty attitudes in their place.

Sinister Mark

Sinister Mark has a cocky smirk, an arrogant stance, and a tendency to bite off more than he can chew—especially with you. He talks big, acts like he's untouchable, but the moment you put him in his place? He’s all fire and frustration, pushing back just so you’ll push harder.

He’s aggressive in the bedroom—at least, that’s what he thinks. But the second you overpower him, gripping his wrists and pinning him down, his whole demeanor shifts. That arrogance turns into labored breathing, body twitching under your control.

“F-Fuck off, I don’t—” The words die in his throat when you push deeper, drag your nails down his skin, and make him take it. The way his body clenches around you betrays how much he loves being dominated, even if he refuses to say it.

Overstimulation absolutely ruins him. He swears he can keep up, that he won’t break, but after the fourth orgasm—his body trembling, overstimulated to the point of tears—he’s nothing but a whimpering mess.

When he gets bratty? You just drag the night on longer. Making him beg, making him admit how much he likes it, how much he needs you. And when you finally let him rest? His throat is raw from groaning, his body sore, and he swears he’s going to get back at you… just not yet.

Mohawk Mark

Mohawk Mark is an asshole—plain and simple. He’s got a sharp tongue, talks shit even when he’s on his knees, and grins like he dares you to do something about it. Spoiler.. You do.

He likes to act like he’s too good for you, like he’s the one in control, but the second you flip him over and drag him into your pace? His cocky words turn into gasping moans, hands clawing at the sheets as his body betrays him.

“Y-Yeah, you think—ah, fuck—y-you think this is gonna break me?” He laughs, but his voice cracks. His legs are shaking, body hypersensitive as you keep going, making him feel every inch of pleasure he swore he could handle.

Mohawk Mark lives for edging games. He gets bratty just to piss you off, just so you’ll hold him down and deny him until he’s begging—until he’s sobbing for release, legs twitching, his punk-ass attitude shattered.

By the time you’re done with him, he’s completely spent, half-conscious, and barely able to throw out one last smug, “T-That all you got?”—only for his whole body to jolt when you grab him again, whispering, "You sure you wanna test me?"

Bonus: Neither of them ever learn their lesson. They’ll still talk back, still push your buttons, just to see how long they last before you completely wreck them again.

[qivrae]

too close for comfort - nsfw

spencer reid x afab!reader

a/n: just a lil blurb— trying to be quiet with the team around you (no pnv)

It’s always the worst motels when the cases go too long. This one’s got buzzing lights and a TV remote that barely works and they somehow crammed four beds into a room that’s really meant for two. You were the last one in, which meant the dreaded pull-out couch. You didn’t mind, you’d spent a few nights in worse but the second Spencer in behind you with his go-bag, you knew. Of course it’d be him. Morgan and Hotch were already passed out. JJ and Emily had staked out the last real bed. So now it’s just you and him, pressed together on a mattress thinner than your patience and you can feel every inch of him against you. Chest to back. Arm draped over your waist. Nose buried against your neck.

He’s warm. He’s twitchy. And he hasn’t stopped squirming since the lights went out. “Spence,” you whisper, barely above the hum of the AC. “You good?”His breath catches against your skin. “Yeah,” he says quickly, too quickly. “Sorry, I just… you’re really soft.” You can’t help the quiet laugh that escapes. “That a compliment or an excuse?”Silence. “Both?” It’s not what he says, it’s the way he says it. A little breathy. A little embarrassed. Like his brain’s moving faster than his mouth and he knows it. His hand shifts a little on your waist, fingers spreading out like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you. “Spencer…”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again but he doesn’t move away. Doesn’t pull back. His hips press forward just the slightest bit and that’s when you feel it. The slow roll of him against your ass, nothing but too-thin sweats between you and his breath stutters out against your shoulder like he knows he shouldn’t be doing this. “You’re hard,” you whisper, not even teasing—just a fact. “I know,” he groans softly. “I’ve been trying not to move but you—you’re making it impossible. I can’t—” You shift back into him gently, giving him the tiniest bit of pressure. He gasps. “You want to?” you ask. “Like this?” He nods against your neck and when he remembers you can’t see him, he breathes “Please.” You hum, lips curling slightly. “Just be quiet. You’re gonna wake the others…” That’s all it takes. His hips stutter forward again, this time firmer and slower. You feel the way he tries to pace himself, like he’s calculating the friction and pressure and angles in his head but it’s all failing because his brain’s mush right now. You can hear it in his breath, feel it in his grip—tightening around your waist, then smoothing down to your thigh.“God, I’m sorry. I know this is—mmph—stupid,” he mumbles. “I just need it, I’ve needed it all night. I couldn’t stop thinking about you in this little t-shirt and how warm you are and—fuck, I’m not gonna last, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you whisper, voice soft but solid. “You’re okay. Just keep going. You feel good.” He moans into your neck, trying to swallow it down halfway through, like he knows one sound too loud might get you both killed by a grumpy Morgan or Emily. The thought almost makes you laugh but then he ruts forward a little too hard and it punches the air right out of you. His hand finds yours where it’s fisted in the sheets. Fingers lacing. Holding tight.“I’m close,” he whispers, frantic now. “Please, can I? I need to— oh god.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Let go.” He chokes on a sound. You feel him shake against you, feel the way his hips stutter and then press flush as he gasps, going still for a second—then stiller. You just lie there for a second, listening to his breathing even out, heart still hammering through his chest.“…That was so embarrassing,” he mumbles into your shoulder. You smile.“Maybe a little,” you tease. “But you came so fast, I doubt anyone noticed.”His laugh is muffled and mortified. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“…No, I really don’t.” You lean back into him and squeeze his hand. He’s still hard, even after and you know he probably won’t stop thinking about this all night. But you’re okay like this—quiet, hidden in the dark, sticky and tangled and slightly wrong in the best kind of way. You’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.

[youthguk]

Entropy: Collapse (Finale) | jjk (m)

College AU | Fuckboy Jungkook x Physics Student Y/N 

“The universe tends toward chaos.”

You said it was just sex. But gravity doesn’t stop pulling — and entropy always ends in collapse.

genre: smut, college AU, fuckboy!jungkook, explicit sexual content, strong language

Wc: 10k

part 1 here (!!!) your feedback means the world to me. 🖤

You’ve spent the past four hours staring at the same simulation code, and the red blinking cursor feels more like a threat than a prompt. Your desk lamp is the only light on in the room, casting long shadows over textbooks, half-drunk tea, and the wrinkled copy of your research grant application — still unsigned, still mocking you with possibility.

It's one forty-seven a.m., the kind of hour that strips everything quiet, even your thoughts. The sky outside is the color of unfinished ink, and the campus streets below are empty. No movement. No noise. Just the occasional flicker of a hallway light going out down the corridor — dormitory entropy, in real time.

You rub your eyes and stretch your neck, but nothing shifts. Not the physics paper. Not the persistent heat blooming in your stomach. Not the memory of how his voice rasped when he told you to open wider. Five days have passed since Jeon Jungkook's last text.

Well — not since you left him hard in the TA room, lips bitten raw and pants around his thighs, after whispering “Don’t think this means anything.”

Your phone lights up with his name again - no message this time. He's already sent plenty that you've left unanswered, filling your notifications with desperate attempts at connection.

Something tugs at you, an invisible force as real as gravity. Your hand moves toward the phone with the careful slowness of someone trying not to startle fate. Each moment feels weighted with possibility, with the kind of weakness that threatens to become something more significant.

Without responding to his messages, you press call. The phone rings twice before his sleep-rough voice answers, "...Y/N?"

That sound - deep, warm, familiar in the worst way - hits you like a collapsing wave. You lean back, eyes closed, phone pressed to your ear. "Are you alone?"

A pause. "Yeah."

Your voice softens instinctively. "I'm in bed."

Through the speaker, sheets rustle. "Are you okay?"

"I can't stop thinking about that night."

His exhale trembles. "Baby..." The word slips past his pride. "I've been going crazy."

You wish you could stop, wish you could call this a mistake, but the moment has already consumed you. "I've been touching myself."

A guttural groan tears from his chest. You picture his hand flying beneath the sheets, his cock hardening as your thighs press together. "Fuck," he rasps. "Tell me what you're doing. Please—"

The leather chair squeaks as you shift, fingers trailing over your sleep shorts. "My hand's already there. I'm so wet, Jungkook."

His moan fills the line. "Are you rubbing your clit?"

"Mhm..."

"Slow?"

"Not slow enough."

His rhythm becomes clear through the phone - his ragged breathing, rustling fabric, the unmistakable sound of him stroking himself. You picture his tattooed hand wrapped tight around his cock, eyes closed, lips parted.

"Fuck, I wish I was there. I'd spread you open, use my mouth until you begged."

"I don't beg."

"You did," he growls. "You do."

Your breath catches as your fingers quicken, hips rolling toward something forbidden. "You'd fuck me slow first, wouldn't you? Just to tease."

His groan sounds pained. "Yes. God, yes. I'd make you come on my cock until you forget your name."

"Too late."

His laugh comes broken, winded. "God, you're unreal."

Your soft moan makes his rhythm falter. "Don't stop," he gasps. "Please, baby—talk to me—don't stop—"

You let him drown in your breathing, in the slick sounds of your movements, let him believe you're about to unravel. Then you pull away, letting silence fill the void.

"Y/N?" His voice comes breathless.

"I have to go," you whisper. "Goodnight."

"Wait—"

The call ends before he can finish. You stare at the dark screen, pulse still hammering between your legs, throat dry and cheeks burning. Somewhere in his room, he's still hard, still aching, still alone.

Without smiling, you let your head fall back and whisper to the ceiling, "Thermodynamics never warned me about this kind of heat."

The phone is face-down on the desk now, like it’s guilty. Your hand is still sticky with want. Your heart still beats faster than it should. But the room is quiet again — painfully, cruelly quiet. As if nothing just happened. As if you didn’t just break your own rules for the fifth time in two weeks.

You don’t move. You just sit in the stillness, surrounded by half-solved equations and the low hum of your old desk lamp. Your body is flushed and your mind is disgustingly awake.

The post-call static crackles louder than it should in your ears. What the hell are you doing? This wasn’t supposed to be anything.

Jeon Jungkook was entropy incarnate — hot and careless and untouchable. A beautiful disaster contained in perfect muscle memory. A reputation in motion. You were supposed to observe him like any other chaotic system: from a distance, with your hands behind your back and your lab coat on.

But now? Now you’re one of his goddamn data points. You swipe your tongue across your lips, still tasting the desperation in your own voice. He sounded wrecked. And the worst part? You liked it.

You liked knowing you could pull him apart with a few words. You liked the way his breath shook when he said your name. You liked the way you made him beg, even when you were the one unraveling.

The thrill of power over him was intoxicating, but that only made it worse. Your control slipped too easily when his voice came through the line - low and desperate, cock in hand, saying things that made your breath catch. He spoke like you were his whole universe, the only constant worth orbiting, and that terrified you.

With guilt tightening your spine, you push back from the desk and stand. This is exactly why you don't let yourself get attached. This is why you insisted it was nothing more than sex.

Because you can’t afford to lose focus. Not now. Not when you’re a finalist for the CERN summer rotation, when your advisor just asked for your draft proposal, when your whole future has to be measured in unit conversions and GPA decimals. And Jungkook? He doesn’t fit into the equation. He’s not a constant. He’s not a vector. He’s not even a variable. He’s the error term — the chaotic, unpredictable, heat-inducing mistake that corrupts the entire model. The kind of anomaly your professors warned you about.

And still, the memory of his moan echoes in your mind - that raw, strangled "baby" when you confessed your hand was between your thighs. Your knees buckle and you collapse face-down into your pillow, groaning into cotton.

You make the same promises you always do: You'll delete his number tomorrow. You'll end it properly next time. You'll mean it when you say it's over.

Because you are not a girl who gets off to old mistakes. And even thought entropy is inevitable — collapse is still a choice.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

The campus courtyard is flooded with late-morning sunlight, the kind that turns everything golden and too warm, like the world’s trying to trick you into slowing down. You don’t. Your sneakers hit pavement with the same clipped rhythm they always do — fast, focused, efficient. A girl with a purpose.

There’s a coffee cup in one hand, a folder clutched to your chest, and your headphones are in — not for music, just for armor. Physics department office hours, then lab, then TA prep. No room for detours. No reason to look anywhere but straight ahead.

And yet, something catches your attention - his laugh. That low, boyish sound you've memorized despite yourself. Your steps falter slightly as your eyes find him: Jeon Jungkook.

Back leaned casually against the stone column outside the business department, one ankle crossed over the other, sleeves rolled up to his elbows like the heat doesn’t dare touch him. Two girls are perched far too close on either side of him, their voices high and coy, like everything they say is an invitation. One twirls a strand of hair around her finger. The other leans in, whispering something near his ear.

His smile is polite but distracted - his eyes are fixed solely on you. The moment your gazes meet, you freeze, blood rushing through your veins as your mouth fills with the bitter taste of caffeine and regret. He's not doing anything extraordinary, just standing there, yet the air seems to bend around him like he's become the center of gravity itself.

The sunlight catches him perfectly - illuminating his golden skin, the intricate tattoos peeking from beneath his shirt cuff, the silver ring glinting as he absently brushes hair from his face. You despise how vividly you remember those fingers against your skin, how he's the only one who's ever made you come undone with just his voice through a phone, making you feel completely his.

When his expression shifts into a subtle frown, hurt evident in the slight crease of his brow, you immediately drop your gaze. Without hesitation, you continue walking, shoulders squared and headphones suddenly deafening despite their silence. Behind you, Jungkook pushes away from the column, his eyes tracking your retreat until you vanish behind the admin building.

The girl beside him notices, nudging his arm with a pout. "Who's that? She looked... intense."

He doesn't answer, because only one thought consumes him: She saw me. And looked away like I never happened.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

The seminar room smells like chalk dust, overripe fruit from someone’s lunchbox, and too many minds running on too little sleep. Fluorescent lights hum overhead. Your pen taps lightly against your knee, bouncing in rhythm with the low buzz of voices filling the space before the professor arrives.

You’re early. As always. You’ve got your notes laid out like a defense line: printed equations, a crisp copy of the grant rubric, your half-drafted proposal for the summer placement. It’s the kind of prep that should settle your nerves, that should root you in facts and numbers and control.

But exhaustion weighs heavy, and your mind wanders to dangerous territory - his voice still echoing in your ears. Please, baby—talk to me—don't stop

Behind you, two girls slip into their seats, their laughter cutting through your thoughts.

"God, he's such a slut," one says, voice dripping with disdain.

"Who?" her friend asks absently.

"Jeon Jungkook. I swear if I see him flirting with another freshman outside the business library again..."

"He doesn't even try," the other scoffs. "Girls just throw themselves at him like they want their lives ruined."

Their gossip continues - something about a chemistry student with green hair, an economics major who fell off a table. Their words blur together as you stare at your notes, at the clean columns of formulas. ΔS = ΔQ/T. Entropy as heat divided by temperature. Order, motion, equations - these should be your constants.

But your stomach twists as memories flood back unbidden: your knees on his bedroom floor two weeks ago, his fingers teasing you under a library table while Newton's third law lay forgotten, his name on your lips just last night as aftershocks rippled through you.

They don't know. They shouldn't know. This was meant to be meaningless - for both of you. You were supposed to be different, just an anomaly in his system, a temporary spike in temperature. Yet here you are, his touch branded into your skin, his name still burning on your tongue.

When the professor walks in, you force yourself to focus on the equations before you, ignoring how your throat constricts and your hand trembles around your pen.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

The air outside the lab building is heavy with spring. Not fresh — just close. Like something’s about to happen, but hasn’t yet. The sky’s turned white with too much light, and your skin feels a few degrees too warm as you step outside, research proposal folder pressed tight to your chest.

You need coffee. You need silence. You need distance from the way your body still pulses whenever you remember his voice on the phone.

Your heart stops when you spot him on the ledge near the back entrance. Jungkook lounges there with deceptive casualness - one foot propped on the low wall, black ball cap shadowing his face, fingers toying with his hoodie drawstrings. Though his posture seems relaxed, you know he's been waiting. Your stomach sinks as reality settles in.

A futile glance over your shoulder confirms this isn't your imagination. His eyes lock onto yours, and there's no escape.

And for a split second, his face breaks open like light through cloud cover — too fast, too warm. He stands up.

“Y/N.”

You continue walking, but he matches your stride, undeterred.

Keeping your eyes fixed ahead, you barely acknowledge his soft "hey" with a slight nod.

“Didn’t think I’d see you outside a textbook this week.”

You huff out a dry sound that might pass for a laugh. “I’m busy.”

He falls into step beside you. His hands are in his hoodie pockets. You can feel the heat coming off him like a small sun — too close, too real.

“You always say that,” he says, trying to joke. “Even when you’re coming on my—”

“Don’t.” The words come out too fast, too sharp. He falls silent as they continue walking, the tension between them thick enough to slice through.

When he finally speaks again, his voice is lower, gentler: "Hey... about the other night..."

You pause mid-step, refusing to meet his gaze. "There is no other night," you say coldly. "There was nothing."

He flinches as if struck, and you continue walking, leaving him behind.

And before he can recover enough to respond, you’ve already pushed through the glass doors of the research wing and disappeared into the building.

Behind you, Jungkook stands frozen in the courtyard, lips parted, jaw tightening.

He watches the door for a full ten seconds before muttering to no one, “…yeah. Fucking nothing.”

You don't stop walking until you're inside the stairwell, out of sight, out of breath.

Your fingers are white-knuckled around the folder. You hate that your hands are shaking. You hate that your heart is doing that thing again — the stuttering thing, like you just sprinted across a field when all you did was stand in his shadow for sixty seconds.

There was nothing. The words left your mouth with practiced ease, rehearsed like a formula you'd memorized. They should have felt precise and clinical - a clean incision to excise what had grown between you. Instead, the declaration burned like touching a live wire, leaving aftershocks that refused to fade.

The cool wall against your back offered little comfort as you tried to steady your breathing. His appearance had shattered your careful equations - that smile that hinted at shared secrets, that look that suggested you still held meaning. You'd convinced yourself he was forgettable, reduced him to simple physics: just impulse, just friction. But one glance was enough to resurrect every memory of his touch, every place his mouth had mapped your skin.

What twisted deepest was the hope in his eyes - that earnest belief that you might want conversation, that you hadn't truly relegated him to past tense. You pressed your knuckles to your lips, drinking in oxygen like it could douse the ember in your chest. You'd told him there was nothing, but your body betrayed you with every quickened heartbeat, every nerve ending crying out for more.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

The third floor of the physics library holds a particular kind of silence - tense and punishing, where even the slightest sound draws sharp glares from focused grad students and ambitious TAs. Usually, this atmosphere helps clear your mind, but today the quiet only amplifies your thoughts.

From your favorite corner cubicle, you stare at your open laptop and notebook, equations sprawling across the pages in messy trails. The grant deadline looms just three days away, but instead of focusing on formulas, your mind keeps drifting to Jungkook's expression when you dismissed what was between you - not angry or smug, just wounded in a way that makes your chest ache.

You shift in your seat, grateful for the comfort of your loose sweater and short black skirt, hair clipped back carelessly. Relief should come easily after ending things, but your body betrays you - thighs pressed together, fingers twitching with muscle memory of threading through his hair.

The soft scrape of a chair breaks your reverie. An iced Americano appears at your elbow, condensation beading on the plastic, and your breath catches as Jungkook settles across from you uninvited. He's wearing a hoodie and black cap, a light sheen of sweat suggesting he rushed here. When his eyes meet yours, the silence between you grows thick with unspoken words.

He just nods once toward the drink. “You look like you needed it.”

Your jaw tightens. “Don’t.”

He raises his palms, surrendering. “Just being nice.”

You remain silent, knowing you should tell him to leave but finding yourself unable to form the words. Returning to your notes proves futile as the numbers blur together, his presence impossible to ignore. His leg brushes against yours under the table once, then again. Though you shift away slightly, you don't completely break the contact.

He leans in, his voice low, soft as static. “You don’t have to say anything.”

You blink slowly. “Then why are you here?”

He shrugs, lips curling into something unreadable. “You’re the only person who’s ever made me come from a phone call.”

Heat floods your cheeks. “I was alone.”

“You didn’t sound alone.”

You glance at him, sharply. But he’s not teasing. His gaze drops to your lips.

“I keep thinking about the way you sounded. Like you were trying not to moan.”

His voice dips lower. “Like you wanted me to beg.”

Your mouth is dry. “That’s not—”

His hand moves beneath the table, landing on your knee with deliberate intent. You freeze as he speaks in a low, steady voice: "Tell me to stop and I will." His fingers trace upward along your thigh in a slow caress, and though you know you should stop him, the words catch in your throat. His touch continues its path until he reaches the heat between your legs, pausing just shy of where you need him most. You can feel the warmth of his skin hovering there like a promise, and your body betrays you - already wet, wanting, yearning for more.

“I knew it,” Jungkook whispers, so quiet you almost don’t hear him. “I fucking knew it.”

Then he touches you. A single stroke through your folds — not too hard, not too soft — just enough pressure to make your back lift a half inch from your chair. You suck in a breath. Sharp. Audible.He doesn’t stop.

His fingers slide through your slick again, this time slower, almost reverent, parting your folds like he’s learning them from scratch. His middle finger circles your clit, not quite touching it directly — just close enough to make your thighs tremble.

“You shaved for me?” he murmurs, voice low and filthy. “Came to study like this?”

Words fail you, conscious thought evaporating at his touch. Because just then, he pushes two fingers inside you. You bite your fist, hard.

The stretch is immediate. The way his fingers hook — upward, firm, unrelenting — makes your eyes roll back. You clench around him, wet and hot and embarrassingly ready, and he groans low under his breath like he feels it in his spine.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He starts moving — slow at first. A careful pump. Testing. Feeling how you open for him. His thumb brushes your clit, and your thighs jerk again. The table shakes slightly. You dig your heel into the floor to ground yourself, but it’s useless. He has you.

Every curl of his fingers finds that same spot inside you — the one that makes your knees want to give out.

Every stroke deeper makes your walls flutter. And every second your body stays silent is a war.

“Good girl,” he breathes. “Taking my fingers so well. So fucking good.”

You glance at the students two rows away — hunched over laptops, lost in problem sets. They have no idea you’re being finger-fucked within arm’s reach. That he’s curling his fingers just right. That his thumb is pressed to your clit now in slow, deliberate circles. That you’re already starting to twitch, to break.

“Keep your eyes open,” he whispers. “I want you to see how good I make you feel.”

You try with every ounce of willpower you possess. But when he leans across the table and growls “Come for me like this — right now — let them sit and fucking listen if you can't stay quiet,” you lose it.

Your orgasm shatters through you with the force of a detonation, your body pulsing desperately around his fingers as your hips buck forward. Stifling a moan, you bite down hard on your hand, stars exploding behind your eyes as waves of pleasure leave you trembling and wrecked. His fingers slow their torturous pace before slipping free, leaving you clenching around empty air, your skin feverish and oversensitive. When you finally manage to look up, you find him watching you intently as he slowly licks his fingers clean.

And before he can speak — before he can smirk or tease or reach for your hand — you’re already standing, already shoving your notebook back in your bag.

Wordlessly, you brush past his chair, pausing only to whisper close to his ear, "Don't follow me next time." Before he can respond, you slip away, leaving nothing but the ghost of your breath against his skin.

Jungkook remains in the sterile silence of the library, his chest heaving and body aching with need. Beyond the physical desire, something deeper and unfamiliar takes root in his chest - a feeling he can't name or shake.

The journey down the stairs passes in a haze, your legs unsteady and skin electric with lingering sensation. Your skirt clings damply, and every breath carries the taste of what just happened - salt and secrets, wild and unspoken.

The bright afternoon sun assaults your senses as you exit the building, the glare through the glass awning making your eyes water. Your heart still pounds an erratic rhythm as you stride forward, refusing to look back. You don't need to - you can feel his gaze following you from the third-floor window, heavy and inevitable as gravity itself, weighted with something that feels dangerously close to guilt.

By the time you make it to the research building, your pulse has evened out — mostly. You’ve redone your lip gloss. Pulled your hair down to hide your flushed neck. Smoothed the back of your skirt at least twice.

No one would suspect what had happened in that silent library just minutes ago, but the memory burns fresh in your mind. You climb the stairs rapidly, attempting to focus on anything else - trying to reclaim your identity as the dedicated student who lives for equations and late nights of study.

Your advisor stands outside his office, leaning against the doorframe with a coffee mug bearing "I Void Warranties." After exchanging greetings, you follow him into his paper-strewn office clutching your proposal folder like a shield.

"I read your draft," he says, thumbing through the pages. "The structure and math are solid. Your quantum modeling section exceeds expectations. If you complete the final sections this week, I'll submit it early to the CERN summer board."

Your breath catches at the mention of CERN - the pinnacle, the dream, your escape route. You manage a quiet thanks as he continues.

"Remember, you're competing with grad students," he adds, pausing to sip his coffee. "Stay focused. Don't lose momentum now - especially not for a boy, no matter how good he looks in sweatpants."

Your spine stiffens at the casual observation. Though he delivers it like light banter, the implication makes your ears burn. You respond with a quick "Understood" before taking your folder and retreating to the hallway.

Outside, the ambient noise feels overwhelming - footsteps, vending machines, the persistent hum of academic ambition. As you press your hand to your chest, the reality crystallizes: Jungkook represents entropy while this grant embodies order. The math should be simple, with order emerging victorious - shouldn't it?

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

There’s something almost sacred about an empty hallway just past four p.m. — the way footsteps echo too loud, the way the scent of old paper and aging floor polish settles like a hush over everything. The way the fading afternoon light slices through the tall windows in strips, dust motes dancing like particles suspended in time. You’re alone in the TA room.

The door’s cracked open. Your laptop hums softly beside the thick stack of lab reports you haven’t graded. You’ve half-forgotten what time it is. The world feels far away — a distant thing made of unread emails and unreadier feelings. The hum of fluorescent lights above your head offers the only company.

The soft click of the door opening makes you freeze. You look up to see Jeon Jungkook standing in the doorway, his presence filling the room with an unspoken tension. His footsteps echo as he moves closer, each step weighted with purpose.

You don’t look up at first. You can’t. Because the second you do, the second you see the way his sweatshirt hangs off his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens as he closes the door behind him — you know this whole room is about to become a physics problem you can’t solve.

“I need help,” he says, casual, soft, like he’s reciting a line from memory.

You finally meet his eyes. “Wrong department.”

He exhales a laugh — just air, no humor. “I know.”

You glance past him toward the hallway, toward the closing door. The click echoes too loud in the silence. You straighten in your chair, fingers curling loosely around your pen. “If someone sees you here...”

“They won’t.”

Silence hangs between you, the air thick with tension as he moves closer, each deliberate step echoing in the quiet room.

“I’ve been trying to leave you alone,” he murmurs, voice pitched low, head tilted like he’s trying to read your expression. “I really fucking have.”

“Try harder.”

His lips twitch at the edge. “You don’t want that.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

He nods slowly. “No,” he says. “But I know how you sound when I’m inside you.”

Your breath catches. Your thighs press together instinctively. The chair creaks beneath you, traitorous. You stand before you know why. Maybe to put distance. Maybe to make it worse.

“I told you,” you say, not quite steady, “this isn’t anything.”

He steps into your space so slowly it feels like a drug — all heat and closeness and scent. His fingers reach out, grazing the hem of your sleeve.

“But you keep letting me in,” he says, and this time there’s no teasing. Just tension. Raw and real. “You keep looking at me like this means nothing, then moaning like it’s the only thing that’s ever made you feel alive.”

You look up at him sharply. And that’s when it breaks. His hand catches the side of your jaw as his mouth crashes into yours, and there’s no slowness now, no subtlety. His other hand is already at your waist, pulling you in, gripping you like he’s waited years for this. Your folders scatter to the floor behind you, pages fluttering like panicked wings.

He pushes you against the door — not hard, but firm, solid. You gasp into his mouth, and he takes the sound like it belongs to him.

“You want me to stop?” he asks, lips brushing yours, breath hot, chest pressed to yours like he’s daring you to lie.

Your silence answers for you, and without another word, he sinks to his knees. Hands sliding up your skirt, mouth already open against your thigh, biting gently as he drags your underwear down — not teasing this time, not patient. His fingers dig into your ass as he pulls you closer, lips ghosting up your inner thigh, nose brushing your skin.

And when his mouth finds you — hot, wet, already aching — you nearly scream. He licks you slow and deep, like he’s memorizing every inch. Tongue flattened, circling your clit, then sucking it softly until your knees buckle. You press your palms against the door behind you to stay upright. He groans into you, like the taste of you is something that hurts. His tongue works faster. You’re panting now, trying to stay quiet, trying not to grind against his mouth — and failing.

“Jungkook...” you whisper, broken, breathless.

He hums in response, lips wrapping around your clit again, two fingers suddenly sliding inside you. The stretch, the fullness, the sound of your wetness filling the room — it all hits at once.

You bite down hard on your knuckle as your legs tremble beneath you, feeling the heat of tension radiating through the wood at your back. The familiar tightness builds deep inside as he senses your approaching release.

“Come on,” he growls, lips slick against your cunt. “Come for me. Right fucking now.”

And when it hits, your world dissolves into pure sensation. The force of your release ripples through you like an inverted gravitational pull, your body writhing against the wall as waves of pleasure crash over you. Through the haze of your climax, you're dimly aware of your thighs clenching around his head, your desperate gasps for air echoing in the empty room.

He continues his relentless attention until your breathless pleas finally make him stop. When he pulls away, his face is slick with evidence of your pleasure, his swollen lips curved into satisfaction as he takes in your thoroughly debauched state.

Before he can speak or reach for you, your mind snaps back to reality and the words are already forming on your tongue.

“This doesn’t change anything.”

He flinches, barely. Straightens slowly, chest still heaving.

“I’m busy,” you say again, voice steadier now, cooler. “You should go.”

Jungkook doesn’t move. He just stares at you, jaw tight, chest rising and falling beneath his hoodie, the look in his eyes something molten and close to violent. Not dangerous. But on edge. Like he’s been keeping something down and you just dared him to let it loose.

He takes one step closer and you don’t back away.

“You really want me to go?” he asks, voice too calm, too soft, too furious. “After everything?”

“Yes.”

Another step. Close now. You can smell yourself on him. and it makes your knees lock.

“After the fucking library? After this?” He gestures downward, voice rising. “After you came on my face and still had the audacity to look me in the eye and pretend it meant nothing?”

You straighten your spine. “It doesn’t.”

His face hardens. “You’re such a liar.”

“I told you what this was.”

“No,” he growls, “you told me what it wasn’t.”

The air shifts. You feel it happen — the weight of the silence that follows. Heavy. Stifling. The kind that carries consequence.

Then his movements shift - he takes hold of your wrist with a grip that's firm yet gentle, his touch deliberate and sure. You shove him back instinctively, but he catches you again, faster this time. Presses you to the door — hard, body flush to yours, arm braced beside your head.

His mouth is just inches from yours. His eyes burn like he’s standing at the center of a star.

“You want me to stop?” he asks again, voice low, cracking at the edges. “Tell me to stop.”

You don’t, instead, you tilt your chin higher and whisper, “Make it quick.”

Without hesitation, his hand finds its way between your thighs as he shifts your panties aside. His hardened length presses against your slick entrance, drawing simultaneous sounds of pleasure from both of you - your sharp gasp mingling with his deep groan.

“No time,” he mutters, lining himself up. “No teasing. I need to be inside you now.”

And then he’s pushing in. You cry out — soft, sharp — your fingers digging into his hoodie as he fills you in one deep, unrelenting stroke. He’s thick, hot, and you’re still too wet from before. Your walls clench around him instantly.

“Fuck,” he growls into your neck. “You feel—so—fucking—good.”

You whimper, nails catching the fabric on his back.

He starts to move — slow only for the first two thrusts, then fast, desperate, furious — hips slamming into you with a rhythm that’s more like punishment than pleasure, but it still makes your toes curl. The door rattles. The room fills with breath and skin and the slap of his body against yours. Your head hits the wood behind you as he thrusts harder, deeper, fucking into you like he’s trying to leave his shape inside you.

“Tell me it’s nothing now,” he spits, voice hot in your ear. You moan.

“Say it,” he growls, hand gripping your thigh, hiking it up higher. “Say it while I’m fucking you so deep you can’t think straight.”

You can’t speak. You’re too full. Too gone. Your fingers claw for purchase as he pounds into you again and again, the pressure building fast, filthy, sharp. Every thrust pushes the breath from your lungs, and every time he slams in deeper, your walls tighten helplessly around him.

“God, you’re so wet,” he gasps. “So fucking tight. You were waiting for this, weren’t you?”

You shake your head — a weak denial. He grabs your face with one hand, turning your mouth to his.

“You’re mine when you come,” he whispers. “No lies. No running.”

And then his fingers slip between your bodies to find your clit.

You shatter in seconds.

The orgasm rips through you — fast, brutal, silent but screaming in every nerve. Your body arches, clenches, legs shaking as he fucks you through it, still chasing his own. It only takes three more thrusts before he groans and stills, cock pulsing deep inside the condom, forehead pressed to yours. The silence after is deafening.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as his arms cage you in, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric between you. When you finally open your eyes, you find him already watching - no smile, no smirk, just an intense gaze that makes your chest tighten. For a fleeting moment, everything feels weighted with possibility.

The silence stretches between you as he slowly withdraws, his movements careful and deliberate. His fingers trace delicate patterns at your waist, like he's memorizing the curve of you, and his breath fans hot against your neck. When he finally breaks the quiet, his voice is barely above a whisper, but carries a gravity that makes your pulse skip.

“You’re more than this,” Jungkook says. “Why do you keep acting like I’m not supposed to see that?”

You blink, stunned by the softness in his voice. By the truth in it. He looks at you — really looks at you — and there’s no arrogance left, no cocky smirk, no boyish charm to hide behind. Just eyes that burn too bright and too honest, like he’s tired of pretending this is all it is.

Something inside you fractures at his words. No one has ever spoken to you with such certainty, touched you as though you were irreplaceable. Not even him, until this moment.

Yet you can't afford to let him in - not when you've finally built something stable, something that won't crumble under the weight of feelings over logic.

With practiced ease, you retreat behind your walls. As you smooth your sweater and adjust your skirt, you keep your gaze fixed anywhere but his face, methodically erasing any evidence that his touch had left you trembling just moments ago.

"I have work," you say flatly, turning away. "And you need to go."

His brows pull tight as he whispers your name, but you cut him off.

"You got what you wanted."

"I didn't come here for sex," he says, voice strained. "I came here to see you."

You grab your folder from the floor, each movement deliberate and distant. "Well, now you have."

Before he can say anything else - before he can make you stay or tell you something you're not ready to hear - you slip past him and out the door, leaving him alone in a room that still echoes with everything left unsaid.

His texts light up your screen, but you can't bring yourself to open them. Three messages in total - two from last night, one this afternoon. Each notification feels like a weight on your chest.

Deep down, you already know what they say. His words echo in your mind without needing to read them: "hey, you okay?" followed by "can we talk?" and finally, "just tell me what's going on, please." The familiar cadence of his concern makes your heart ache.

You've repeated the mantra countless times - that you're done, that letting him in again would only lead to more heartache. Yet when the knock echoes through your building, your body betrays you. Despite every logical reason to stay put, your feet carry you downstairs, drawn to him like gravity refusing to let go.

He waits outside, hood drawn and hat low, hands tucked in his pockets as if trying to make himself invisible in the daylight. When you step out and close the door behind you, the sharp morning air fills your lungs.

His posture straightens at the sight of you, but his expression remains solemn. "You've been ignoring me."

You cross your arms tight against your chest, offering a noncommittal shrug. "I've been busy."

His jaw tightens as he studies you. "I needed to see you."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know what we're doing anymore."

"There's no 'we,' Jungkook."

He draws a careful breath. "You've said that before."

"Because it's true." Your voice wavers despite your resolve.

"You claimed there was nothing between us," he says, "yet you kept coming back."

"It was just sex."

The words strike him visibly, making him flinch. You force yourself to look away, focusing on the empty street while he shakes his head. "You're lying."

A bitter smile crosses your lips. "So what if I am?"

His eyes meet yours, filled with a desperate kind of hope that's beginning to fade. "Then prove it. Look me in the eye and tell me I meant nothing."

You face him, mouth parting to speak, but the words die in your throat. The truth is, you can't bring yourself to be that cruel.

The silence stretches between you like a thread about to snap. Finally, you break his gaze. "I don't have time for this. I have a future to think about."

He accepts this like a final verdict, nodding once. "Then I won't bother you again."

As he walks to the curb without looking back, you remain frozen on the steps, heart caught in your throat. You try to convince yourself this is what you wanted, even as you watch the one person who truly saw you walk away.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

The bass vibrates through the off-campus house, each beat sinking into your ribs like a reminder of something long forgotten. You wonder, not for the first time tonight, why you let your friend drag you to this party where you clearly don't belong.

The scene feels foreign now - dim lights casting shadows, sharp laughter cutting through stale air, and hallways thick with the scent of vodka and poor choices. You lean against the kitchen counter, nursing a sour drink, dodging the occasional stumbling partygoer.

Despite telling yourself you'll leave within an hour, your eyes keep searching the room. And there he is - Jungkook, lounging in the corner couch with casual grace, his hoodie unzipped and a restrained laugh playing at his lips. It's nothing like the unguarded joy you remember from more intimate moments.

But he's not alone. A blonde in a short skirt presses against his side, her fingers trailing his arm with practiced familiarity as she whispers against his jaw. The sight makes your chest constrict. He neither welcomes nor rejects her attention, remaining perfectly still as she continues her advances.

Your grip tightens around your cup while someone - your friend, probably - says something you can't process. Heat rises behind your eyes as you watch this scene unfold, jealousy coursing through you despite having no right to feel it. After all, you were the one who insisted there was nothing between you.

The girl moves closer, her fingers now skimming his necklace with clear intent. But then he turns his head and catches your gaze across the room. Everything freezes - her voice fading to background noise as his eyes lock with yours, intense and unreadable.

You want to look away but can't, knowing exactly what he sees: you in your tight black dress, perfect lipstick masking hollow eyes, jealousy written in every line of your body. After three endless seconds, you break first - turning sharply and walking out into the spring night that smells of cigarettes and missed chances.

When his footsteps follow you onto the porch moments later, you cross your arms tighter and whisper to yourself: "Don't be stupid. Don't turn around. Don't let him be the thing you'll regret."

When he says your name behind you - just once, soft and broken - you already know this night will undo you again.

The cold night air wraps around you as you stand at the edge of the porch, arms crossed tightly against your chest. From here, the party's music feels distant, muffled like memories you're trying to forget. The street beyond the lawn stretches dark and empty, while you remain fixed in place, caught between staying and leaving.

The door opens behind you, followed by his footsteps and then his breath. You stay facing forward as he hovers there, the space between you charged with everything left unsaid.

"I wasn't going to kiss her," he says quietly.

"I didn't ask."

"You didn't have to."

You close your eyes, letting silence settle between you before he speaks again.

"She doesn't matter," he says softly. "None of them do."

A bitter laugh escapes you - not because you doubt him, but because it would be easier if you did. "I'm sure they'd be thrilled to hear that."

His voice comes rougher now, raw with honesty. "I didn't even want to be here tonight."

"Then why come?"

"Because I knew you might be."

Something in his words makes you turn. The porch light traces silver along his features - his messy hair, the sharp line of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes that makes your breath catch.

"You think showing up changes anything?" you ask.

"I don't want to change things," he says. "I just want you to stop running."

"Running?" The word comes out hollow.

"Yes." He steps closer, voice dropping low. "You come to me like you need me, then leave like we're strangers."

Your chest tightens. "It was just sex."

"No." His eyes narrow, voice sharp with frustration. "Say it like you mean it."

You stay silent as he continues, moving closer still. "You say that, but you look at me like I've broken something. Like you hate me for making you feel."

"I don't hate you."

"But you don't trust me either."

The truth of it makes your heart pound as he softens, vulnerability bleeding through. "I'm not asking for forever. Just... a chance. I want you to try."

"You don't understand."

"Then help me."

You look down, fingers twisting in your dress as the words you've been holding back finally spill out. "I'm leaving. I got the grant."

His expression shifts subtly - not shock or anger, but a careful kind of hurt. "When?"

"End of term. Three months of research abroad."

"You weren't going to tell me."

"What would it change?"

"I don't know," he says quietly. "Maybe I wouldn't have wasted time trying to hold onto something that was always leaving."

His words sting more than you expected. When your eyes meet his again, the world seems to pause, holding its breath.

"It wasn't supposed to be anything," you whisper.

"Then why are you still here?"

You have no answer, but he isn't finished. Drawing closer until you can feel his warmth, he speaks again, voice raw with emotion. "If this was just sex, why do I still taste you every time I close my eyes? Why do I check my phone constantly for a name I know won't appear?"

"I've been with others," he continues, "but never like this. Never feeling like I'm losing something I never had the right to claim."

The silence that follows feels heavy with possibility. You want to tell him so many things - not to wait, that he deserves better, that you're terrified. Instead, you whisper, "You shouldn't want me."

"Then stop making me."

His words hang between you like static, making everything else fade away. When he looks away and runs a hand through his hair, the gesture betrays his vulnerability. The quiet between you has transformed from tense to aching, filled with unspoken pleas.

"Let me go with you."

The words stop your breath. "What?"

"I mean it." His voice grows gentle but determined. "Wherever this grant takes you - I don't care. I'll follow."

"You can't just-"

"Why not?"

"Because it's not realistic," you say. "This is my work, my life. Not a vacation."

"I'm not trying to make it one."

His gaze holds steady, all pretense gone. "I'll figure it out. Find something short-term, take time off. Get a place nearby."

"You can't be serious."

"I've never meant anything more."

Looking at him now, you see past the facade - beyond the cocky student who once teased you under library desks, beyond the reputation that follows him through whispered conversations. This is him stripped bare, offering something no one else has: the promise that you're worth chasing, worth disrupting a life for, worth not having to face everything alone.

"I can't promise anything," you whisper.

"I'm not asking for promises. Just a chance."

As your arms finally fall to your sides, the tension shifts but doesn't break. He moves closer, voice soft and intimate. "I don't want to be your distraction. I want to be the reason you don't carry everything alone."

You close your eyes, the desire to say yes burning in your throat. But when you look at him again, all you can manage is, "I need to think."

He nods, understanding. "Okay. Think."

Then he steps away and leaves you standing there, your heart beating out of rhythm as the universe seems to tilt on its axis. For the first time, you're not sure if running is what you want anymore.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

There's a hidden principle in thermodynamics that textbooks rarely mention: systems naturally resist equilibrium, fighting against stillness until the very end. Like heat dispersing through space and time, energy spreads itself thin across moments and people until everything settles into quiet calm.

But what happens when the natural order breaks? When something you're meant to release keeps drawing you back in - like gravity with too much memory, like a particle defying probability?

Jungkook is exactly that - a force of chaos and warmth, disrupting every calculated decision. He collapses your carefully constructed equations, making you realize that entropy isn't about disorder at all. It's about surrender, about letting go of control and allowing yourself to drift toward the heat that's always been there, waiting.

So this time, you’re not fighting it anymore. Every calculation, every logical path leads to him. And instead of running, you’re finally walking toward what you've been trying to deny all along.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

The campus has quieted into hushed twilight when you arrive at his door, the usual bustle of footsteps and laughter faded to memory. Your heart beats steady and low like background radiation as you stand there, fingers curled at your sides - not urgent or frantic, just persistent.

Neither of you has reached out since that moment on the porch, since you said you needed time to think. But in the silence between then and now, your mind has done nothing but circle back to him, again and again.

When you finally knock - just once, soft - and hear movement inside, you know with certainty that you're not here for closure. You're here for him.

The door opens to reveal Jungkook looking beautifully disheveled - hoodie inside out, chain visible, hair mussed as if he's been running his fingers through it endlessly. But it's his eyes that catch you - they come alive the moment they find yours, filled with recognition and something deeper.

No words pass between you as you step into his apartment. The door closes softly behind you, and you're enveloped by warmth - his cologne lingering on the couch fabric, an open book abandoned spine-up on the table, another hoodie draped over a chair. Everything speaks of waiting, of anticipation.

When you turn to face him, his gaze is both cautious and hopeful in the dim light. The silence stretches between you, heavy with possibility, until you finally bridge the gap - reaching for him with steady hands and certain heart.

You don’t say anything when your hand curls into his hoodie, pulling him forward. You don’t explain when your mouth finds his — soft, slow, shy. He gasps like he wasn’t sure you’d really come. And then he kisses you back.

And suddenly nothing matters but the way his hands cradle your face like it’s fragile, like he can’t believe you’re real. The way he breathes your name between kisses, reverent and raw. The way you slide your hands beneath his sweatshirt and find warmth, skin, muscle — him.

When your clothes hit the floor, it’s not frantic. It’s intentional. His fingers pull your shirt over your head like he’s memorizing the shape of you. His lips brush your shoulder, your collarbone, the valley between your breasts. He whispers something — too low to catch — but it sounds like finally.

You fall into his bed and he follows. When you wrap your legs around his waist, it’s not for leverage. It’s to keep him close. When he sinks into you, slow and warm and so deep you forget how to breathe, it doesn’t feel like friction — it feels like home.

He’s careful at first. One hand gripping your hip, the other splayed across your lower back as if to shield you from the world while he pushes in, inch by inch, holding his breath like your body is holy.

“Fuck,” he whispers, jaw tight. “You’re so warm… baby, you’re perfect.”

You let your head fall back, lips parting in a soft gasp when he bottoms out. He stays there, not moving, just breathing — buried so deep inside you it feels like he could disappear there, if you let him. And you would. When he starts to move, it’s unhurried — slow, deliberate strokes that drag against every nerve ending, make you arch your back into him, make your thighs shake.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmurs, voice low and thick with restraint, as though he’s trying to hold back from letting go too fast. “I need to hear you.”

You meet his eyes, dazed and already drunk off the stretch, the pace, the way he’s looking at you like nothing else has ever mattered.

“You feel…” you start, and the words melt in your throat. You don’t want to say “good.” That’s not enough. Not nearlyenough.

“You feel like I finally exhaled.”

He groans, and it sounds broken, like you cracked something inside him that he didn’t know was still fragile. His thrusts deepen. Not faster or harder.

Just… more. More skin. More closeness. His chest flush against yours, lips dragging across your cheek before his mouth finds the corner of yours.

He doesn’t kiss you, not right away. He nuzzles. Soft. Slow. Like he’s trying to memorize your breath. And then, finally, he kisses you — not possessive, not filthy, but aching. A mouth pressed to yours like a secret, like the beginning of a confession, like if he could live in the space where your lips meet, he would.

You moan into it, hips rolling to meet his. His hand moves to your breast, fingers circling your nipple with the lightest brush, and when you whimper, he does it again — soft, slow, coaxing your body to bloom for him like it never has for anyone else.

Your voice is almost too breathless to be heard.

“Don’t stop.”

“I couldn’t if I tried.”

You wrap your arms around his back, press your palm between his shoulder blades, hold him like you’re afraid this is all a dream.

He starts to move faster then — a new rhythm building, deeper now, hungrier, but still sweet, still controlled. Each thrust pulls a sound from your throat, quiet, high, desperate. Your nails rake softly down his spine and he hisses at the contact, fucking you harder for a beat before slowing again.

“God,” he pants, forehead to yours, “you take me so well—always. Fuck, I missed you.”

You clench around him and he notices.

“Ohhh,” he moans, voice guttural, “you like that?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Say it again. Let me hear you.”

You arch into him, voice softer than a whisper. “I missed you too.”

His pace stutters. Something in him gives way. And suddenly, he’s grabbing your hand — the one beside your head — lacing his fingers through yours like he can’t bear to come without holding you.

“I’m close,” he warns, and it sounds like an apology.

“Me too,” you whisper. “Don’t stop. Please—don’t stop.”

He moves faster then. His hips slap against yours. Sweat beads at his temples. His thrusts grow sloppy, raw, needy. Your legs lock around him. You feel it building — low and sharp and inevitable.

Your climax rushes up from your spine and down your thighs, spreading like a slow, golden shatter. You cry out softly, clutching him, your whole body arching into his as you pulse around him, wave after wave rolling through you.

He breaks a second later, burying his face in your neck with a sharp groan as he spills into the condom. His body trembles above yours like a string pulled too tight while you whisper his name into his shoulder until he stills. He stays there, holding you close, neither of you wanting to break the connection.

When he finally lifts his head to kiss you — soft and unhurried and achingly tender — it feels less like an ending and more like the beginning of whatever comes next. The moment calls for words, but you let your body soften against his instead, finding comfort in the silence between you. For the first time, that silence feels full. Not empty. Not scared. Just real.

.

.🖤

taglist: @joansie9 @mgstudyingrocks @existentialzaddy @revolutionbreez @lyb3124 @parkinglot-nights @bhonbhon

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DPxDC Nobody Knows Au Pt 3

Parts 1 and 2

They both fall silent and stare. 

That's an answer to one of many questions they've been asking themselves for years, isn't it?

Their best friend disappeared, and it wasn't abduction or murder. It was an escape.

“You guys don't have contact with Jack and Maddie, do you?”

Tucker swears there's a record scratch in his brain.

Sam gapes. “You mean your parents?”

Danny smiles, small, grim and humorless. “Jack and Maddie.”

Jesus Christ.

Sam glances over at Tucker and they exchange a look. Tucker knows they've been feeling a shared guilt for a long time, feeling like they didn't do enough. They had suspicions about something fucked going on in Danny's home life since the beginning of freshman year, but they never blew the whistle about it.

Rationally they know it wasn't their responsibility. All of Amity had suspicions - someone should have called CPS, and it shouldn't have been a couple of kids. A goddamn adult should have stepped up.

It doesn't keep either of them from feeling like they failed their childhood best friend.

“Considering I've spent the last four years suspecting they killed you and chucked your body into the portal to hide it? Hell fucking no, Danny,” Sam asserts.

The set of Danny's shoulders relaxes significantly. “Good,” he breathes. “Good. Please keep it that way.”

“What the fuck was going on in that house, man?” Tucker asks, a little sick to his stomach. He knows right away he shouldn't have asked.

Danny's expression shutters into something polite and pleasant to hide discomfort, and he immediately starts ‘casually’ gathering his papers and computer into his bag.

“Listen, I'm really happy to see you guys - seriously. I really should get going though, I-”

Sam reaches out and snatches him by the scruff of his shirt before he can even stand up all the way, yanking him back down into his chair.

His dumbfounded expression makes Tucker snort a laugh, so familiar and puppy-like. Danny is still all big blue eyes and nearly visible question marks when taken off guard. Tucker missed that face.

“You're not going anywhere until we get your phone number,” Sam argues, not a hint of wiggle room in her face or tone. “We'll get lunch or something, all three of us. Go to the mall. We're living in the same city, you know I'll hunt you down.”

When Danny hesitates, her face and tone melt into something softer.

“Please, Danny. We miss you.”

Danny melts a little, sighing and smiling. “...yeah. Yeah, I missed you too. I've missed you guys so much.”

“So?” Sam prompts, holding her hand out.

Danny huffs a little laughing breath and fishes around in his pocket, unlocking his phone and plopping it into her hand. 

His nails are black and green. Gradient.

Tucker doesn't know much about nails, but he knows there's a difference when Sam paints them and when she splurges for acrylics.

“Are those professionally done?” he asks, bemused. Danny had never expressed an interest in that kind of thing as a kid. It's kind of cool to see signs that he's, like…growing into himself.

Danny shrugs, and it feels good to see that he doesn't even seem to consider Tucker might give a shit in a bad way.

“I'm on my hot girl shit,” he deadpans, and Sam nearly drops his phone with the force of her startled laugh.

Tucker snorts. “Oh, well about time.”

“Hey!” Danny protests, offense fake and eyes dancing. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! You had a glow up is all.”

Danny snickers and kicks him gently under the table.

“Okay, dick.”

It's like they never parted at all for a moment.

“Here, Mr. Hot Girl Shit,” Sam says, handing Danny his phone back. “I put our numbers in and sent a text in a group chat so you can't forget to reach out. I'm serious, Danny. We missed you, don't disappear. It was scary enough the first time.”

Danny grimaces, at least looking genuinely apologetic. “I know. I'm sorry. I really do need to get going today, though. I've got an appointment.”

“What kind of appointment?” Tucker asks.

The grin Danny gives him is mischievous and has a few teeth sharper than he remembers there being. 

He breezes past them and out the door with an impish response of, “Hide and seek with furries.”

Part 4

Masterpost

[run2ikeu]

confessions to make ; lee heeseung

college student!hee x college student!reader

word count : 2k

synopsis: you and heeseung are aware of the tension that lies between the two of you, it’s just a matter of acting on it. although it’s unspoken, you should know better than to let people touch what’s his.

authors note: hiii guys this is like my first fic in YEARS .. i haven’t written anything in so long so please be kind to me heh. this is also my first enha centered fic so yayyy. feedback is appreciated !

warnings!: smut (mdni), basically no plot, mild aftercare, jake sim mention (he’s too fine not to be a warning)

There’s something different about the way he looks at you. You’ve seen Heeseung interact with your shared friends, classmates and even strangers on the street. That's just who he is; a socialite. There’s something different about him with you, though

You thought you were imagining all of it at first. The lingering touches, whispers and secrets shared as you hangout with your friends, and the burning sensation of his eyes on you. ‘He’s like this with everyone’ you tell yourself, but you don’t know if that’s true. Your movements are always so calculated under his gaze, you liked knowing that he was watching. You were drawn to him, and he seemed to be drawn to you.

It was like he had an unspoken ownership over you. Watching you, stopping guys from getting too close. He knew what they wanted, because he wanted it too. Never going further than a hand on your thigh or a label more than ‘close friends’, you weren’t sure how he really felt about you.

You begin to let your thoughts drift, imagining those same eyes staring at you as you’re laying below him while he-

“Y/nnnnnnnnnn” Loud as ever, Jungwon snaps you out of your daydream. An exaggerated sigh of your name leaving his lips.

“Y/n, Are you even listening to me?” he sighs, “I’m sorry Won, I’m just thinking about this uh- presentation I have to do?” your face begins to heat up. You’re lying, and not very well at that.

“I’m not stupid y/n. You’re thinking about Heeseung, aren’t you?” he smiles at you, tilting his head. Jungwon is the only person who knows about your weird relationship with Heeseung, and he continues to tease you about it. Making you question why you told him about it in the first place.

“Wh- uh No?” you avoid eye contact. Your eyes drift to the rows of bookshelves, pretending to be interested in the genre sections to avoid embarrassment.

“You’re an awful liar,” he laughs, “Anyway, as I was saying before you tuned me out, there’s a party tonight. Sunoo and I were thinking of going, do you wanna come?” He begins packing up his books. He looks up at you expectantly, “Jake Sim is hosting, you know him right?”

You sigh, you hate parties. “I- I don’t know Won. I don’t really do well at parties and Jake and I aren’t really friends so I feel like it’d be kind of-”

“Heeseung will be there.” He cuts you off suddenly.

You stop, “So what time are you picking me up?” Jungwon smiles.

Immediately after your arrival, Jungwon and Sunoo left you to join a game of beer pong, leaving you in the living room by yourself. That’s when you saw him- saw them. Heeseung and some girl, they’re dancing. She has her arms around his neck and has his arms around her waist. Suddenly you feel stupid for how much time you spent getting ready and you realize how sober you are.

That’s how you ended up here, pushed up against the counter of Jake Sims' kitchen.

Jake’s sweet, he really is, but you just need a distraction. Although you spent hours getting ready with Heeseung in mind, you’re realizing how absolutely breathtaking Jake is up close.

“Fuck, you look so good tonight. Don’t think I can handle it,” Jake rasps, his breath warm on your neck and reeking of alcohol. The music is blaring in your ears and you feel your heart begin to beat faster.

“Don’t think you can handle me?” you whisper in his ear, a rush of confidence taking over.

Jake chuckles, he begins kissing a trail from your collarbone to your earlobe. He licks the shell of your ear, his breathing heavy and hot. He moves his lips to your jaw, sucking and kissing you as he begins to grind into you.

That’s when you feel it. You open your eyes, nearly against your own will, and you see him. The burning sensation of his eyes on you suddenly washing away your confidence. He looks angry. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are different. The admiration that’s normally directed your way is replaced by repulsion.

You suddenly push Jake off of you. Feeling overwhelmed, you rush upstairs in search of a bathroom.

“Y-Y/n I- fuck. Where are you going?!” He attempts to follow, but you’re gone before he knows it.

You need to breathe. The heat is consuming you and suddenly the clothes on your body are heavy. You stare in the mirror, “What the fuck just happened?”, you whisper.

The doorknob begins to shake. You open it and attempt to exit, “Sorry, you can-” suddenly you’re being pushed back in and you're moved to sit on the counter.

It’s Heeseung.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he’s pissed. “I’m not there and suddenly you’re basically fucking Jake in front of everyone?”. His stare is piercing, awaiting your response.

“I- I wasn’t fucking anyone. And what are you? My dad?” you scoff, rolling your eyes and looking away from him, “plus it's not like we’re dating or anything Heeseung, you don’t own me. And I.. I saw you with that girl so just f-fuck off” Your mind is cloudy and you feel anxious under his gaze.

Immediately he grabs your jaw, seeing a mark left by Jake. ‘Disgusting’, he thinks. “What? We were just dancing. Bold of you to be upset with me when Jake Sim was grinding on you for the world to see.” he moves to whisper in your ear, “I don’t like people touching what's mine. You’re mine, Y/n.” He pulls back, looking in your eyes for a moment. Before you can respond, he smashes his lips onto yours and you melt into the kiss.

The softness of it contrasts his rough grip on your jaw. His hand moves to the back of your head and the other moves to your chest. He stops and pulls back, “Do you want this? Do want me, Y/n?” You nod immediately, but that isn’t enough for him.

“Say it, say you want me to fuck you right here.” He moves both his hands to your waist and you panic, “I-I want you to fuck me, Heeseung.. Please” your face heats up even more, if that was possible. You feel small under his gaze. He smiles and pulls you into another kiss. You moan into it and he trails his hands down to your shorts, unbuttoning them and lifting you up a bit to pull them down harshly.

His hand cups your heat, feeling how wet you are. He breaks the kiss, “This for me, or did Jake get you this wet?” his breathing is heavy and he moves to bite your neck.

You whimper, “You- all you Heeseung, fuck, please.” You feel him smile on your neck, “Please what, baby? Use your words.”

“Touch me, please seung. Don’t be mean.” You attempt to grind into his hand and he smiles at your neediness.

“Whatever my girl wants, she gets” he says proudly, moving back and pulling your panties down.

He uses two fingers to spread your pussy open and his free hand to push your legs apart, admiring the wetness. He plunges a finger in, the stretch feeling almost foreign. You moan loudly, inspiring him to add a second. Immediately, his pace is relentless. His fingers are long, reaching places you’ve never explored. He moves his thumb to rub your clit and he continues his assault on your neck.

“Want you covered in my marks only. You’re only mine.” You breathlessly nod, you feel a tightening sensation in your core. Your moans get louder and he can tell you’re close.

Then suddenly, he stills his fingers and pulls his head back to stare at you.

You feel tears forming and your whole body burns again, “S-seung, why did you stop, please?” You whimper, attempting to grind your hips closer to his fingers that are now hovering over your core.

“Say you’re mine right now or I’ll leave you here like this. I’ll go fuck that bitch I was dancing with, I’m sure she knows how to listen.” His eyes are cold and he’s fighting back a smirk.

“I’m y-yours seung, please, I’ve always been yours,” you’re breathing heavily and whimpering in between your words, the sight is almost pathetic. At your words, he shoves his fingers back inside your dripping heat and your moans echo off the walls of the small bathroom. “Don’t want Jake, just you Hee- fuck- just y- you” Heeseung smirks and quickens his pace.

“That’s right, this pussys mine too, isn’t it?” You begin nodding aggressively, the heat in your lower belly is rising.

You’ve never seen Heeseung so jealous and possessive before, the sight turns you on even more.

He moves to kiss you again. It’s sloppy and a clashing of teeth and tongue, your mind is running wild and you feel the band in your stomach about to snap. “Close Heeseung, so close, please” The words come out rushed, in fear he might stop again.

He continues fingering you and uses his other hand to make quick work of his belt and jeans. “Hold it for me baby, want you to come on my cock,” He pulls down his boxers and you look down, ‘hes huge’ you think to yourself. You begin to wonder how it's supposed to fit.

He smirks at you knowingly, “It’ll fit, sweetheart. I’ll make it fit.” He takes his fingers out of you and uses the wetness from your core to lubricate his aching cock. “Fuck”, he moans, jerking himself off in preparation for your pussy.

He rubs the tip on your clit and you shudder. He moves his tip to your hole and begins pushing it in slowly, the stretch of his fingers were nothing compared to his cock. “Fuck, how’re you still so fucking tight?” he moans, pushing himself all the way in.

You feel your climax approaching almost instantly, your body feeling sensitive. You cling onto his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself and he pulls you closer, kissing your neck and finding a sensitive spot behind your ear.

“I-I’m gonna cum Hee, please I’m- Oh fuck” your head falls back and you feel yourself let go.

“Yeah that's right,” his thrusts become harder, the sound of slapping and your squelching pussy drowning out the sound of the music. “Let go baby, fuck, you feel so good” He fucks you through it and brings his thumb down to rub your clit. You come down from your high and your body is beyond sensitive, “Too much seung,” you whimper. Your head falls to rest on his chest.

“Just a little more baby, be good for me.” His thrusts are slow but hard, making your sensitive body jolt. He finally releases, pulling out to cum on your thigh.

He kisses your head, his breathing heavy and laboured. He pulls his jeans up and moves away to opens the top drawer, finding a face cloth. He turns on the sink to get it wet and he moves to clean you up. It’s silent, but it’s comfortable. He kneels on the floor, spreading your thighs slowly to clean the remnants of the events. It feels as if you’ve done this with him a million times.

He finally speaks up, “I’m sorry if i was too rough,” He looks up, looking at the marks he left on your neck. He feels a sense of pride, but he does feel a bit guilty. “I’ll be more gentle next time, and next time won’t be in Jake Sims' bathroom. I promise” you smile as he finishes wiping you off.

“Next time?” you look down at him, your smile widening.

“What? Did you think I was joking when I said you were mine?” he scoffs, almost offended.

He moves you off the counter and helps retrieve your panties and shorts. “Well, are you gonna ask me out on a date?” you button your shorts, avoiding his eyes.

He stands and lifts up your chin to look at him. “Y/n, will you please let me take you on a date?” he smiles, bringing both his hands to your waist.

“Of course,” you bring your hands to cup his face and kiss him slowly.

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

pretty please do a tiktok trend fic with jaehyun with the trend of girlfriends telling their bfs they wanna go home or don’t wanna sleep over pretty pretty please !!!!!!!!!!!!!

wow 3 prettys... good job, here you go!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ I don't want to spend the night ⋆⭒˚.⋆

(cw: f!reader, profanity)

At the beginning of your relationship, leaving the frat house was easy. Fratboy!Jaehyun was still too cocky yet too shy to admit that he wanted you there, that he wanted you to stay, that he wanted you around.

Now? Now, leaving was nearly impossible. If you planned to spend the night, he was like an excited puppy, never letting you out of his hold, always trailing behind you, never letting you out of his sight. If you were brushing your teeth, then he was too. If you were changing into you pajamas, he was helping you. If you were on your phone in bed, then he was laying on top of you and watching what you were watching.

If you weren't staying the night... well, let's be clear. If you were at the frat house and not spending the night, then Jaehyun was going to make sure you spent the night. He would trap you beneath him while he slept, he would hide your shoes, he would get down on his knees and beg with tears in his eyes until you agreed. The only way you could get out of spending the night was to simply not go to the frat house or be gone before 7pm.

Tonight was one of the nights you were staying over, but that didn't mean you couldn't have fun right?

You let out a long, fake, exasperated sigh. Jaehyun's eyes flickered up to meet yours from where he laid on your chest, "what's wrong, Sweetheart?"

You break eye contact, biting your bottom lip, "I think I'm gonna go home."

Immediately Jaehyun was sitting up, his eyes wide with confusion, "why? What's wrong? I thought you were spending the night."

You sigh, "I think I just want to be in my own bed for tonight."

"Okay, then let's go sleep in your bed," he offers quickly.

"No," you drawl out, "I want to be in my own bed alone."

"We can be alone together!"

"I want to be alone by myself..." you say while trying to hide a smile.

"You can't go though, you're in you pajamas and it's cold. Just tell me why you don't want to be here. With me," Jaehyun begs with a pout.

"It's just that there's too much testosterone in the house and it's killing my vibe tonight. I'm sorry, baby," you coo, trying to slip out of bed.

He groans loudly, flopping onto his side and turning away from you, "if you hate me you can just say that. Seriously, ease my pain and just be honest. It might just hurt less if you fucking kill me."

You break then, laughing as you crawl across the bed and wrap your arms around him, "you're such a baby. I was joking!"

He places one hand over yours, "that was mean. I thought you didn't want to be my girlfriend anymore."

You laugh rings out and he finds that his pouty exterior is hard to keep up when you're making his favorite sound. You press a long kiss to his cheek, "I want to be your girlfriend until I become your fiancee and then become your wife."

His heart skips a beat, "that was sweet, but you still owe me. You're big spoon tonight."

"Of course, my love."

[1800dojaejung]

Strawberry Sunday (YJH & KMG)

->Summary: When your best friend is away, you and Jeonghan always find time to play. This time he invites his friend to play along and things get a little messy - in the literal sense. ->Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan & Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader ->Genres/Tropes/AUs: Smut, best friend’s brother, fuckbuddies (is this a trope???) non!idol au, pwp ->Rating: 18+ MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED ->Words: 8.4k | ->Warnings/Content: profanity, threesome, dirty talk, oral (m & f receiving), handjob, unprotected sex, fingering, food play, nipple/boob play, begging, praise, teasing, cum play/body painting, biting/marking, pet names (sweetheart, baby, good girl, babydoll) and I think that's it 😮‍💨 ->Note: Written for the secret cupid event hosted by @ddeonghwa-s! Hiiiii @gyuhanniescarat, it's meeee I'm your cupid!! 🩷 Please enjoy this fresh freak nasty filth I’ve whipped up for you!! 👩🏽‍🍳💋 (and tbh for myslf too bc as a ShuaHannieGyu girly I very much enjoyed creating this hehe)

Thank you 37432987414 billion times to @shadowkoo for the perfect banner!!!! I'm still so obsessed with it! And thank you to my love @soongyeopsal for always being my favorite beta 🥰

The weekend. Easygoing Saturdays and lazy Sundays: the perfect way to end a stressful, fast-paced week.

You're halfway through your weekend and feeling wonderfully relaxed. On Saturday, you did some light cleaning that you were behind on and leisurely, at your own pace, ran a few errands, but most of the day was spent in your apartment, curled up on the couch with a book in hand.

Sundays are for sleeping in and when you do finally wake up, you take a long shower, complete with your favorite candles and a lo-fi mix as you scrub and relax under the warm spray. Once you’re in your comfiest lounge clothes and have taken the time to whip up a yummy brunch, you settle in on your couch, remote in hand. There are a number of dramas that are overdue for your attention, so you decide to pick one at random and get lost in it.

And you do manage to get lost in your show, cozy blanket, and your couch. Your brunch has been eaten and your eyes start to droop shut as you feel a midday nap coming on.

This is interrupted when you hear the chime of your phone from somewhere in your blanket cocoon.When you manage to fish it out, you see an incoming call from your best friend.

“Hey, Soo, what’s up?”

“Y/n! Please lend me your baking skills!” She sounds desperate and it makes you nervous.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Sooyoung sighs heavily over the line, the sound of the phone shifting is almost too loud and you have to ​​pull yours away from your ear a little bit.

“Are you busy? Can you come over? I’m trying to make cupcakes for Hyoseob for Valentine’s day, you know, but I fucked up the recipe because you know baking isn’t really my thing and now I’m panicking and don’t know if I’ll get them done by tomorrow and could really use someone who knows what the hell they’re doing in here, please?”

A small laugh leaves you at your best friend’s frazzled speech and you can hear the pout in her voice.You glance around you, taking in one more view of your lazy Sunday setup, before turning off the TV.

“Of course, I’ll get dressed and come over.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much, Y/n! I love you so much, thank you, thank you!!”

“Love you too. See you in a few.”

Once you hang up you sigh. You do enjoy baking and you always love spending time with Sooyoung so helping her won’t hurt. It’s not really the plan you had for today, but it could be worse, so you won’t complain. Not too much at least.

At least the drive to Sooyoung’s isn’t long and there wasn’t much traffic on the road which you’re grateful for. You get to the small house she shares with her brother and it only takes one knock to have her swinging the door open.

“Thank god, come in!” She grabs your arm, giving you enough time to at least take off your shoes, and parades you into the kitchen. As you pass the hallway, you can hear voices and the sound of a TV in the distance.

“Is Jeonghan here?” you ask, trying to sound casual. You do a great job at not making any indication that you’re actually hopeful that her older brother is here.

Yoon Jeonghan is the prettiest man you’ve ever had the pleasure of being around. And as of two months ago, he’s also the prettiest man who you’ve been lucky enough to have pleasured you.

It wasn’t on purpose, you always remind yourself. You just so happened to be over, drinking with Sooyoung and her brother as you all hung out on a Saturday night. Sooyoung drank a little too much and passed out. You and Jeonghan did your best to take her to her room and tuck her in.

Honestly, after that you’re not even sure how it happened, but you ended up riding Jeonghan on his bed and he gave you what you still think was quite possibly the best orgasm you’ve ever experienced in your life.

Since then, you and he have hooked up secretly here and there when given the chance, but nothing serious has come of it. He just has a pretty dick and knows how to fuck so who are you to say no when he offers?

“Oh, yeah sorry. He and Mingyu are here, unfortunately. Mingyu stayed over last night and wouldn’t you know, neither of them helped me at all!”

“Well, Jeonghan doesn’t really belong in the kitchen,” you joke. You also hide how you nearly choke on your spit when she mentions Mingyu’s name. You don’t know him that well, but he’s around enough that you can easily remember what he looks like (gorgeous) and how he’s built (like a greek god).

“Yeah, but Mingyu does! Remember he made that cake for my birthday last year! And the food he made at our housewarming. But when I asked, Jeonghan said ‘no they’re busy’ and dragged him away. They’ve been in his room all day doing whatever it is men do.” Sooyoung scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, that’s fine because now my bestie is here and is a better baker than all of us combined!”

You smile, genuinely appreciating the compliment, but also taking in the state of the kitchen. It’s a good size with a decent amount of counter space and great natural lighting. Said counter space now, though, is covered in ingredients and bowls and even some sprinkles and sugar and flour.

“So uh, what was the plan in here?” you ask, doing a slow lap around the room and eyeing two bowls of what looks like batter and fluffy, pink icing.

“Okay, so I wanted to make a batch of strawberry and a batch of chocolate cupcakes for Hyo, but then I burnt the chocolate cakes so those are a dud, and I ran out of sugar for the strawberry cupcakes and the chocolate frosting. I’ve been at this since I woke up at like 9 and all I have to show for it is a burnt tray and this mess you can see. The only thing I think I did right was the strawberry frosting.” She gestures to the bowl closest to you. You grab a spoon from the drawer and dip into the frosting, taking a small amount.

“Mmm. This is good.”

“Thank you! But now, I have to go to the store and get the missing ingredients and then try this again which is why I called you because if I go and get what I need and screw it up again, I think I’m going to have a full meltdown and cancel Valentine’s day.” Sooyoung lets out a huff, shoulders deflating as she sniffs.

You toss the spoon in the sink and rush over to hug your friend. You push away your thirsty thoughts for her brother and his friend and focus on her.

“Hey, it’s okay, girl! I’m here now, okay? I’ll help you tidy up, we’ll go over the ingredients you have left, make a list for the store, and get a game plan going okay? I’m here to help.”

With wide, shining eyes, Sooyoung pulls back and pouts at you. “You promise?”

“Of course! I got you.”

The brunette girl smiles at you, sniffling once more and then she lets you direct her to where to start.

It doesn’t take long to tidy up and get everything ready to start baking again. You toss the unfortunate batch of burnt chocolate cupcakes and place plastic wrap over the bowl of strawberry frosting, setting it aside since it’s the only success so far.

You help Sooyoung with the list of things she needs to grab for the chocolate cupcakes plus some extra ingredients just in case. After tidying up, you find out she has just enough of everything else for you to start the batter for the strawberry cupcakes while she’s gone.

“I shouldn’t take too long! I know the store closest to us is closed on Sundays, but there’s one like twenty minutes away so I should be back when the cupcakes are at least in the oven!”

You’re making sure you have everything in front of you that you need to prepare the batter so you nod, agreeing with her and saying goodbye. Once Sooyoung is gone, your borrowed apron is tied, you play some music on your phone, humming along, lost in your own baking world.

“If I had known there’d be a cute girl in my kitchen, I would’ve come out here to help a while ago.”

Jeonghan’s voice from the doorway makes you jump. You’d just added together the wet and dry ingredients and the sudden intrusion nearly makes you jump out of your skin.

You offer a wave as he and Mingyu file into the kitchen with Jeonghan coming to stand behind you.

“Well, your sister needed help and you didn’t come to offer a hand.” You hum, feeling Jeonghan’s hand ghosting over your hips and thighs.

“Yeah, but I’d much rather help you.”

“But what if I don’t need any help?” you shoot back, glancing over your other shoulder, seeing Mingyu hovering over the bowl of strawberry frosting on the kitchen island.

“Hmm, well I don’t know about that… It looks like you might need some help here.” As he speaks, his nimble fingers trail to the front of your jeans, ghosting over your covered crotch.

“Jeonghan,” you warn, “I have to get this batter in the oven while Sooyoung is gone. She’s gonna expect them to be baking.”

Normally, Jeonghan’s silky soft voice and skilled hands has your clothes off of you in no time. You and he had fallen into an unspoken kind-of friends with benefits thing. You don’t really talk for leisure over the phone or anything, save for a few flirty texts sometimes when you post something he likes online, but most of your communication is in person when you’re with Sooyoung or with each other’s tongues in your mouths when it’s just the two of you.

Sooyoung doesn’t know that you’ve been fucking her brother for the last two months, mostly because you don’t know how to even approach the subject. Plus, it’s just casual fun that you and Jeonghan have. It’s not like you’re dating or anything.

That’s not to say you wouldn’t date Jeonghan, but that’s an entirely other conversation to be had and feelings to unearth that you’d prefer to stay buried until that’s something you have the energy to dive into. For now, casually fucking him whenever you can will suffice.

“Hey, I’m not stopping you. Keep doing what you’re doing.” His voice is low, a smirk quirking at the corners as he places feather light kisses on your neck. His hands land on your hips, lightly squeezing as he brings the front of his body flush with you.

As best as you can, you finish adding everything to the bowl, grabbing the whisk a few inches away from you and starting to combine all of the ingredients. It proves to be more difficult than you thought when Jeonghan starts nibbling at the skin at the base of your neck, pulling your sweater collar aside to get to it.

A soft, breathy sound slips out of you when he bites down, the bowl almost falling out of your hand as you tilt it to get a better angle. Luckily it doesn’t, but you do spill some of the batter on the counter.

“Oops. You better be careful not to make a mess, sweetheart.”

He’s playing so dirty by dropping a pet name, and it immediately has your stomach clenching. Jeonghan reaches over you, his finger scooping up the splattered batter. He brings it up to your lips, waiting.

He doesn’t have to wait long, your mouth opening and the digit eagerly dipping inside, landing on your tongue. You close your lips and suck, eyes slipping closed both at the taste and the gesture itself.

“Good girl,” Jeonghan whispers and it takes everything in you not to turn and fall to your knees in front of him right then.

You and Jeonghan are lost in each other, you still lightly suckling on his finger while he peppers the side of your neck with kisses again.

“Um,” a third voice clears from behind you both and your eyes shoot open, letting go of Jeonghan’s finger. You had completely forgotten that Mingyu was less than a foot away.

You straighten up, focusing on the task at hand again, whisking the sweet concoction and trying to calm your wild heartbeat.

Jeonghan turns to Mingyu with an eyebrow raised, both hands resting on your hips. “What’s up?”

Mingyu lets out a nervous chuckle, hand moving up to push back his dark locks. “I mean… Bro, I’m standing right here.”

“So?” Jeonghan challenges. “What’s a little fun amongst friends? I’m always down for fun. What about you baby, do you like to have fun?” The latter part is for you, your eyes darting over your shoulder to Jeonghan, to Mingyu, then back to Jeonghan.

Is…is he saying what you think he's saying? Is he proposing you hook up with him and Mingyu? You don’t want to say it out loud, scared you’re reading the room incorrectly. You hold Jeonghan’s gaze for a few seconds, his smile softening just a little and eyes twinkling as he blinks.

“Y-yeah. I like to have fun.”

“See!” Jeonghan immediately says, reaching out to pinch your waist. “Baby is always so nice to me and she’ll also be nice to my friend.” A shiver runs through you at his words and it takes real work and concentration to focus on making sure you don’t fling cupcake batter all over.

Jeonghan uses the beat of silence in the room and your concentration on your work as an opportunity.

Soft hands are back at your waist, rubbing and squeezing lightly before his fingers practically dance to the front of your jeans. He plays with your zipper for a few seconds before pulling the metal down and easily undoing the button.

You can’t help the way your breath catches in your throat when he slips his hand into your pants, fingers immediately finding your covered clit. A squeak comes out of you as Jeonghan applies light, casual pressure, humming in satisfaction. Your mixing is paused as you close your eyes, relishing in the slow, meticulous circles he makes.

“Make sure you concentrate, sweetheart. Didn’t you say you have to finish this by the time my sister comes back?” His tone is teasing and he chuckles at the way you flinch when he reminds you that you’re on a timer.

It takes all of your resolve, but you do hone in on the bowl in front of you, finally deeming it smooth enough to be baked.

Jeonghan’s fingers stay pressed on the outside of your underwear, but he gives you enough room to reach over to grab at the cupcake pans that have been greased and sat waiting nearby.

Mingyu is now standing closer than before, not close enough to touch, but close enough that his eyes can see where Jeonghan’s hand is.

With shaking hands, you begin pouring the batter into the cupcake slots. It’s truly a feat as his fingers are still working at you. The task suddenly becomes almost impossible when said fingers finally slip into your panties, slender digits rubbing against your already wet folds.

A yelp comes from you which makes Jeonghan coo at you. “Look at you, baby. Already wet just from some teasing.”

“I - it’s your fault,” you manage to sigh out, faux annoyance in your words which Jeonghan already knows is a front.

“Not my fault you want my fingers inside you so bad. That is what you want, isn’t it?” His lips ghost over your neck again and you feel him hover so close to your entrance, but not actually making a move to enter you.

“Fuck, you know it is, Hannie.”

Jeonghan grins ear to ear - you only bring out his nickname when he’s making you feel good.

“Wanna hear you say it, baby.” The tip of his finger is right there - all he needs to do is crook his finger and he’ll push his way into your hole.

“Hannie,” you beg, “please, please, please put your fingers in me? I need you,” The words are breathy and your hands have stopped working, gripping the half empty bowl as you await his next move.

“Since you used your manners and said please, I suppose I can. Just make sure you finish your batter,” his hair tickles your neck as he leans down to kiss your neck again and he finally slips a finger into your pussy.

“A-ahhh!” You let out a breathy moan as he finally gives you what you want, immediately pulling you closer to his chest while you pour the batter, every single inch of your brain struggling not to fuck it up.

When you finally get the cupcake pan filled, Jeonghan has slipped two fingers into your cunt, his fingers working you slowly, the sounds of your own wetness mixes with the music you still have playing on your phone in the background.

“Hannie,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering closed as he finds your g-spot, massaging it with gentle strokes.

“Yes, baby?”

“I - the oven. I need to p-put these in,” the sentence is a struggle and Jeonghan chuckles, loving the way you go almost braindead when he’s touching you.

Jeonghan slips his fingers out of you and you whimper at the loss. He finally backs away, allowing you room to open the oven. Everything is quiet save for your music and your rapid breathing.

Once the mini cakes are in, the timer is set, and oven mitts are placed aside, Jeonghan strikes.

He spins you around, letting your ass hit the counter as he cups your face and leans in to kiss you finally. Soft lips work expertly over yours, drawing little sighs out of you. Jeonghan’s an excellent kisser, in addition to an amazing lay, so kissing him always sets your body alight. His hands eventually drift from your face, one inching up to the back of your neck to wrap around the base while the other slips down and behind you to grab a handful of your ass, pulling your body flush against his. You can already feel his half-hard erection poking against you and you clench your thighs together.

You and Jeonghan make out sloppily, the kiss nothing but teeth and tongue and little noises you both make. Eventually, he pulls away, both of you panting. He turns his head and gestures for Mingyu to come closer.

You shamelessly eye the very tall and very wide man that approaches. His black long-sleeved shirt hugs his chest in a sinful way and his loose fitting pants do very little to hide his obvious arousal.

“Mingyu already knows that we sometimes like to spend time together. I figured that since we’re all here and we have a little time, you can show him just how good you can be. I think you want to anyway.” Jeonghan pulls you away from the counter and maneuvers you into Mingyu’s surprised hold.

His arms wrap around your middle, loosely hanging there but making no move to let you go. Your hands land on his chest and you can’t hold back from squeezing the firm muscle underneath. He blinks down at you, eyes boring into yours in mild shock. He effortlessly recovers from his shock of suddenly having you in his hold, a smirk replacing the ‘o’ shape his mouth had taken.

“I’d love to actually,” you whisper out finally, gulping audibly when you finally catch a whiff of Mingyu’s warm cologne. “But your sister is only going to the store for a few things so we don’t have time.”

As if forgetting that you’re only this close because of her absence, Jeonghan pauses next to you, and feels the pockets of his sweats for his phone.

“Damn, I think I left my phone in my room. What time is it?”

“Check my phone,” you jerk your head towards the counter, directing him to where your phone lays charging a few inches away. You’re still leaning against Mingyu’s firm chest as the man rubs circles into your lower back that have your knees feeling like jelly at just how warm and gentle and big his hands are.

Your eyes are staring at his lips as he looks between yours and your eyes. It’s clear you’re both wanting to do something but are waiting for an update on the timing you have.

“Well will you look at that,” Jeonghan starts as he looks at your phone. He brings it to you, showing you a notification on your lock screen from Sooyoung. The words start with ‘I fucking hate traffic…”

Reluctantly you move one hand from Mingyu’s chest to take your phone and unlock it.

Sure enough, when you get to the messages, there’s a few texts from Sooyoung, complaining about traffic and an accident that’s taking so long she hasn’t even made it halfway to the store yet.

You send a few texts back and forth and she says she isn’t sure how long it’ll take to get there and back now, but she’s not going to give up. You reply that the cupcakes are in the oven now so everything is still on track and encourage her not to let the traffic win. You remind her of her boyfriend whom she’s doing all this for and how happy he’ll be to receive handmade edible gifts from her. You think it’ll give you enough time.

You make sure your ringer is turned on and tell her to update you along her journey and she agrees. Handing your phone back to Jeonghan, you fill him and Mingyu in on Sooyoung’s current location and the status of the trip.

“So…what does she think, she’ll take more than half an hour?” Mingyu speaks up, finally uttering more than a few words.

“Probably,” you guess, both hands now back, firmly planted on the man.

“If you ask me, I think that’s enough time for some fun,” Jeonghan offers, fingers playing with the tie on the back of your apron.

“I think you’re right,” you agree. It’s all you need to say before both men start to move.

Mingyu finally leans down and captures your lips in a rough kiss. His tongue immediately darts out, licking at your lips, begging for entrance. You allow him in, his tongue plunging into your mouth to taste every part of you.

Behind you, Jeonghan manages to untie your apron as his hands move to the waistband of your jeans and easily slide them down your legs. His fingers, a little cold, trace the front of your panties before he’s yanking those down too and helping you step out of them. Your body jumps at the sensation of being exposed like this, but Mingyu moves from your lips to your neck and that’s what your attention is diverted to.

Jeonghan’s hands caress your ass, kneading and handling your cheeks slowly but roughly.

“Sorry, Gyu, but I need to see her,” he warns before pulling you away from Mingyu and turning you so you can lean your upper body on the counter.

You let out a yelp at both the sudden turn and at the fact that you’re bent over the kitchen counter, naked ass and cunt on full display for them.

“Fuck,” Mingyu hisses before you feel a hand land a surprising smack on your ass.

“Right? She’s already fucking glistening, isn’t she,” Jeonghan agrees and you can’t help the embarrassment that heats up your spine, knowing your wetness is evident and being observed. There’s a moment of shuffling before you feel soft hands on you again, pushing apart your legs more. “Can you make room for me, sweetheart? Gotta show Gyu how good you look.” Of course you oblige, opening as wide as is comfortable and resting more on the counter.

“Just like that,” Jeonghan praises before he goes in, sinking two fingers back into you, a small, but audible whoosh of air is heard from both men.

Jeonghan, having been between your legs numerous times at this point, knows exactly where to apply pressure and the angle to piston his fingers to have you a moaning mess in his hands.

“Mmph, fuck, Jeonghan!” You can’t help the yell of his name, your knees shaking as he fucks you faster with his fingers. His other hand brushes upward, over your ass and up your spine until it wraps around the back of your neck. He applies the lightest of pressure to the sides of your neck then pushes you down, making your ass poke out more to make his actions more visible to himself and Mingyu.

“Fucking hell,” Mingyu breathes from next to you. When you can manage to lift your head and turn, your drooping eyes see him, hand shoved into his pants, pumping back and forth under the fabric.

Biting your lip, you manage to gesture him over to you with the flick of your hand. Mingyu doesn’t need to be told twice as he scurries next to you, within arm’s length. It’s not the easiest position, but you manage to reach out and shove your hand into his pants. You immediately find his generous length and you wrap your hand around it, squeezing a few times before jerking him off. You worry that your pace is too slow, but the way that Mingyu’s head falls back has you rethinking that. He lets out a low groan as you work him, one hand resting on the counter and the other reaching up to grasp at his own hair.

You marvel at him, this tall, hot man that’s scrunching up his face and biting his lip because of the way your hand moves over his dick.

Wanting to redirect your attention back to him, Jeonghan picks up the pace and eases a third finger into you, his other hand finally snaking around you to press hard against your swollen clit.

“Ah-ah! J-Jeonghan, please.”

“Hmmm?” he hums, already knowing what you want.

“Faster, please. ‘M gonna cum!” He makes a noise of acknowledgement and the movements on your bundle of nerves become harder.

“I guess I’ll let you cum. You’ve been good so far, especially helping Mingyu out with his problem.” His words sound sweet, but you also know if this was just you and him and you had more time, he’d still be teasing you until you cry. That’s not the case now though, as Jeonghan takes a moment to readjust the angle of his hand before he’s driving his fingers in and out of you with all of his force while his other hand still busies itself with your swollen clit.

Your grip on Mingyu’s dick falters, your eyes fluttering closed again as Jeonghan works to push you closer to the edge. Without missing a beat, Mingyu’s hand rests over yours, guiding you up and down his length which seems just as good as you doing it on your own.

Mingyu’s moans match yours in frequency, both high pitched and breathy. “J-Jeonghan, just like that, shit! Fuck!” When you finally cum, your face rests against the tile, yelps echoing in your own ears. Mingyu lets your hand go to allow you to grip the counter top, trying to keep your balance.

Jeonghan, being who he usually is when you’re together, doesn’t immediately let up his actions, fingers still tapping at your sensitive bud a few more times before you’re whining even more and attempting to close your legs.

With a snicker, he finally pulls back, sighing loudly as he dramatically licks his fingers.

“So fucking good as always.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu quips, his eyes locked in on your swollen folds, wet with your release.

“Yeah, you should have a taste too, Gyu.”

You don’t even get a chance to ask the time or check your phone, which is what you thought about doing first, because Mingyu’s got your hips in his grasp and turns you around. Your wide eyes stare at him and you think that he has to look just as ruined as you feel.

“Would you mind if I get a taste of you, babydoll?” Something about the way the pet name rolls off Mingyu’s tongue sends a whole other sensation rocketing through you.

You breathe out a ‘yes,’ and Mingyu immediately uses his strength to lift you quickly from around your waist.

“Mingyu!” you squeal, arms wrapping around his neck as he carries you to the kitchen island and places you down as if you weigh nothing. He winks at you before he’s sliding down to his knees and opening your thighs.

He lets out a low whistle which you want to ask the meaning of, but you don’t get a chance as he surges forward, wrapping his lips around your still sensitive clit.

He suckles the nub a few times as you whine above him before diving his tongue into your entrance. He wastes no time eating you out more frantically than you think even Jeonghan has. Within no time you’re a moaning mess, head rolling back and body both trying to run from his talented mouth and trying to push yourself closer. He keeps his hands positioned on your thighs, gripping you so that even when you try and flinch away, he can still direct you back to his mouth.

He makes small grunts from below you, some of satisfaction, but most are just from getting lost in you: sounds of pleasure as his tongue darts in and out of your entrance, his lips latched onto your lower ones. It feels as though he’s got his entire face buried between your legs, his mouth damn near enveloping your entire pussy. His tongue is stiff as it darts in and out of you, rubbing against your walls and licking every inch of you that he possibly can.

Your eyes are closed, but you still hear the soft sound of Jeonghan’s footsteps moving closer. “Fuck, baby I didn’t know how hot it’d be to see you get eaten out. Wish I had my phone right now to remember this.”

Somewhere in your foggy brain, you register his words and glare at him. Or at least you think it’s a glare - it’s hard to tell when you can barely keep your eyes open.

Either way, the older man gets the intention, chuckling and raising his hands. “Yeah, yeah I won’t.” His eyes sweep over your body, leaning forward to ease the apron from around your head, followed by your sweater and your bra.

Sitting completely naked on your best friend’s kitchen counter is the last place you thought you’d be today, yet here you are. Mingyu’s grunts between your legs can be felt through every part of your body, your next orgasm on the horizon.

“M - Mingyu! Fuck, ‘m gonna cum again!”

The man clearly hears you, making a sound of acknowledgement before his tongue moves up to suck hard on your clit. Two thick fingers slip easily into your twitching hole, moving fast and in time with his wild tongue.

Jeonghan grunts at the sight, his own pants now at his knees as he fists his cock, watching your body twitch and jerk. His eyes lock onto your tits, nipples hard and inviting and he almost leans forward to capture one in his mouth when his eyes suddenly dart to the bowl of frosting not too far from you all.

He’s reaching for it and taking the plastic off. He at least has enough decorum to grab a big spoon from a nearby drawer, scooping a hearty amount out. He takes a small dollop on one finger and reaches forward to smear it over one of your nipples.

The sensation catches you off guard as your eyes fly open to look, being met with Jeonghan’s almost cat-like grin. You don’t even get a chance to question his actions or scold him for dipping into the frosting before he’s leaning in, tongue lazily circling your areola and gingerly scraping his teeth over your nipple.

A single suckle follows and that’s all it takes for you to lock your thighs around Mingyu’s head, arching your back and letting out a long moan as you cum suddenly. Your eyes cross as the pleasure washes over you, letting yourself slump backwards on the counter, head hanging off as Mingyu snuffles against your skin and laps at your folds, cleaning up your release.

“Fucking shit,” Mingyu huffs when he finally decides to come up for air. “That was so fucking hot, you’re so fucking hot. And you taste amazing.”

You wheeze out a thanks, Jeonghan’s laugh ringing in your ears is the most evil yet sexiest thing you hear over your own breathing.

“Speaking of taste…” he trails off and doesn’t say anything else before you feel him on your other nipple and you jolt, head raising to look at him. He swirls another dollop of frosting on you, gesturing to Mingyu. The taller man doesn’t even question it as he leans down to pop your tit into his mouth.

“Oh!” you gasp as his tongue swirls around your nipple, moving round in a circle before sucking. Even when the frosting is gone, he stays latched to your chest and you’re squirming underneath him. Jeonghan attaches his mouth to your other side, smearing frosting from your nipple and up your breast, all the way to your collarbone. His tongue cleans up your nipple before his tongue is licking up, up, up to clean the sticky sugar off of you.

Mingyu sits up, letting go of your tit with a wet pop and reaches to grab the spoon of frosting from Jeonghan. He takes a glob and you watch as he draws a shape on your chest and sternum, mind too scrambled from Jeonghan’s licks to tell what it is. When Mingyu is satisfied with what he’s done, he gives you a once over with wide, blown out eyes and then his hungry mouth is on your skin again, cleaning up the mess he made on you slowly and deliberately. He makes sure his teeth scrape every inch of sensitive skin on you as he goes, ending right back at your swollen nipple.

You’re nothing but pants and cries and whimpers as both men do more of the same. Taking turns covering your chest in frosting then licking it off.

Between the heat of the oven and the heat of their mouths and hands that grip your thighs and hips, you’re feeling dizzy and are convinced you’re now dripping onto the tile underneath your body.

Somewhere in the distance you hear your phone ding, eyes snapping open at the possibility that it’s Sooyoung.

“My phone!” You squeak out, wriggling under their holds.

Jeonghan releases your abused skin, heavy lidded eyes look you over before he quickly turns to grab your phone.

“Looks like my sister is at the store. Says she shouldn’t take long and that the accident was clearing up as she finally made it through so she should be home pretty soon.”

Jeonghan reacts to his sister’s message with a thumbs up and rejoins you and his friend.

“Please, need you, one of you, both of you, just someone,” you plead to them. Between your desire to be fucked and the fact that the countdown is on until your best friend will be coming home, you don’t care who does it as long as one of them gets inside you.

“Normally, I’d make you beg for me more and make you wait, but we are in a time crunch,” Jeonghan agrees, looking over your trembling form. “Where do you want us?”

“Don’t care,” you sigh out when Mingyu finally pulls his puffy lips off of you.

He and Jeonghan share a look, clearly deciding who will go where. Just knowing that the two men are having a silent conversation as to which one of them will do what to your body has your thighs rubbing together in clear anticipation. Jeonghan glances at you, smirking at your movements before he’s moving around the island, laying your head back to hang off of it again.

“Here’s what we’ll do, Mingyu will stuff that needy pussy of yours since he’s my guest. Think you can handle sucking me off while he does?”

“Fuck, yes,” you nod eagerly the best you can from your angle, senses tingling at the idea of a new position you’ve never done. “Need something under my neck though,” Jeonghan leaves your side for a moment to grab what looks like his sweatpants. He rolls the fabric up and places it under your head and shoulders for support. Jeongha’s hands caress your face and shoulders, watching as Mingyu gets into position between your legs.

Knowing time is of the essence at this point, strong hands run down your thighs, settling behind your knees to spread them more. You soon fill the blunt, large tip of Mingyu’s dick nudge your entrance and you shudder.

He rubs the bulbous head against your folds, nudging your clit once before slathering himself in your juices and bringing it back to your entrance.

“Ready, babydoll?” he asks, readjusting his hold on the back of your knees.

“Yes, please!” The words barely leave your mouth before Mingyu is pushing in, inch by girthy inch, stretching you slowly as he goes.

“Shit, you’re still so tight,” he mumbles through gritted teeth as he goes slower and slower until he’s finally nestled between your silky walls and his pelvis is almost flush with the back of your thighs.

“She always is, no matter how many times I get her to cum for me,” Jeonghan marvels, eyes locked on where you and Mingyu are joined. He watches as Mingyu pulls back, cock sliding almost all the way out before slamming his hips, pushing a true scream out of your pretty lips. His friend wastes no time in building a fast-pace, sending your body jerking back and forth on the counter so hard, your hands raise above your head for something to find purchase on.

That something turns out to be Jeonghan’s thighs as he moves closer into your space. He helps you ease your head back until it drops back off the edge and he’s standing right in front of your face.

“Open up for me, sweetheart,” he coos down at you and you do as he says, mouth falling open in a loud moan as Mingyu’s cock hits a spot deep inside of you. Jeonghan’s dick, long, curved, and as pretty as the rest of him, eases into your mouth.

Mingyu slows down enough for Jeonghan to comfortably settle in your mouth, giving a few short thrusts. Both men curse under their breaths when they listen to the gagging sound that comes out of you as Jeonghan’s length hits the back of your throat.

“Tap my thigh twice if it’s too much, okay baby?” Jeonghan says to you and you tap his thigh once to let him know you heard him. “Good girl. Gonna fuck this pretty little mouth now, okay?” Your response is muffled, but it's affirmative and that’s all Jeonghan needs to begin moving his hips, the tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat again and again with slow, languid thrusts. The deliberate pace allows you to steady your breathing and shut your eyes to concentrate on taking him.

Soon enough, his thrusts are faster and Mingyu takes this as his cue to resume his movements as well. He doesn’t start as frantic as he did when he first slid into you, but his thrusts are so deep, you can also feel him in your chest. His dick is as big as the rest of him and you’re made aware of that as he stretches every inch of your walls to mold around him.

As soon as both men hear your whines around Jeongha’s length, they look at each other, nodding with a silent understanding of how they’ll fuck you together.

Mingyu’s pace goes from casual to anything but as he begins to drive his hips into yours again. His fingers dig into your hips as he fucks you, keeping you pinned in place as he does to keep you from sliding from the force.

Jeonghan’s gentle hands rest on either side of your head, stroking your cheeks carefully as he fucks your mouth, eyes falling closed as he does.

Your body feels like it’s on fire with both the sensation of your pussy and your mouth being used by both men. Your eyes stay wrenched closed tightly as you seesaw between them, back and forth, back and forth. Your ears can only pick up the wet squelches of your spit around Jeonghan’s cock and the sharp slap of Mingyu’s muscular thighs hitting the back of yours. He still has your legs up and open, pressing himself into you as far as he physically can.

“Fuck, your mouth is fucking heaven, baby,” Jeonghan grunts as he drives his dick back and forth between your lips. He watches the drool pool around your mouth and drip down your face. He thinks he sees tears prick at your lash line too and the sight is nearly enough to have him explode right on the spot, but he holds back, wanting you to cum first.

Mingyu lets out a string of curses as he buries himself deeper, eyes fixated on the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in you, covered in a white ring of both of your juices. His eyes slide over to the bowl of frosting, still sitting on the counter and he reaches over, scooping more out to rub on your chest again. His pace falters a little as he leans over your body to lick you clean again and you let out a long, drawn out moan around Jeonghan as his red hot tongue licks fire across your sensitive skin.

Jeonghan follows his lead, but instead of covering you in the pink, sticky sweetness, he pulls his dick out of your mouth and smears it on your lips and down his dick instead.

“Baby didn’t get to taste it,” he murmurs so low that it sounds as if he’s almost talking to himself. When he slides himself back into your mouth, the sugary sweet flavor mixes with the heavy, salty taste of his precum and you excitedly accept as he plunges all the way down your throat. You relax and relish in the broken, almost desperate cry that he lets out when you swallow around him. “Shit! Just like that, sweetheart. You’re so fucking good to me,” You preen under the praise and do it again, only getting sidetracked up when Mingyu snaps his hips particularly hard as the same time that he bites down on one of your nipples.

A choked squeal is heard around Jeonghan’s length and both men feel their ends fast approaching.

“Fucking hell, babydoll. You close?” Mingyu asks against your sticky skin, biting and sucking at any of you that he can get his mouth on.

“Mmhmm!” you attempt to answer, which you can before Jeonghan’s dick is obstructing your airway again.

They hear you, though, and both reach out to make you cum first. Mingyu’s fingers toy with your clit, the pad of his thumb digging in to rub harsh circles as Jeonghan’s hot digits wrap around one of your nipples, tugging and pinching.

Your body jumps at the dual sensations, the feelings quickly becoming too much when paired with the sheer fullness you feel on both ends and in every fiber of your being. You feel yourself start to twitch harder, your hands still on Jeonghan’s thighs gripping him tighter as your nails dig into his skin. He hisses above you, all of you hearing the ding from your phone across the room which can only mean Sooyoung is on her way home.

The thought only lingers for a moment before Mingyu gives you a thrust that is just the perfect amount of pressure against your sensitive walls to have your back arching, a yell of what sounds like his name garbles out of you around Jeonghan’s length. The vibrations from your sounds are like a switch for Jeonghan, his body reacting immediately to yours and the way you swallow him almost all the way down as you cry out and cum.

He snaps his hips once more before he’s releasing, cumming down your throat then pulling out, some of his release spurting onto your lips, chin, and neck. You don’t even seem to notice, your eyes open but your attention elsewhere as Mingyu continues bullying his cock into your hypersensitive pussy.

Mingyu cums last, pulling out of your messy folds with a whine. He strokes himself once, twice, and then he’s cumming hard, his release spurting onto your thighs, painting your sweaty skin in white warmth.

The three of you slump in silence, breathing heavily as you clear your heads and get a grip. You feel something prodding your leg and with a heavy head, you manage to lift far enough to see Mingyu rubbing his softening length in the mess he made on your thigh. Clearing your throat to get his attention, he snaps his eyes up to you and stops, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he coughs. “It’s just…that was so fucking hot,” he repeats again and you can’t help but nod.

“Yeah,” you croak, making both of the men snicker at you. You reach a hand back weakly to swat at Jeonghan who dodges your half-assed attack.

“Here, let's get you cleaned up while we have time,” he says, glancing at the timer above the oven. Your cupcakes have ten minutes left and if he had to estimate, it would take that time plus a little longer before his sister gets home. He and Mingyu both help you sit up with Mingyu grabbing your hands to pull and Jeonghan cradling your head and neck to lift you up. Your joints groan in protest, but you manage to sit up.

Jeonghan moves to grab a paper towel, wetting it with warm water before he’s in front of you, wiping his drying spunk off of your face. Mingyu does the same, and cleans up what’s dried on your thigh.

“Ugh, I feel like I have to take a shower,” you sigh, aware of the uncomfortable sensation on the rest of your skin. Dried spit from both men along with remnants of the now useless pink frosting still smatter over you and you crinkle your nose.

“If you want, you can take a shower and I’ll keep an eye on the oven,” Jeonghan offers as he and Mingyu help you stand on shaky legs. The two of them gather their pants and your clothes as you lean against the counter slowly regaining strength in your body.

“Taking a random shower doesn’t seem suspicious to you?” you question, raising an eyebrow as you gesture to your phone, which Mingyu grabs to hand to you.

“If Sooyoung gets home, we can just say you got stuff on your clothes and you had to shower. I have extra clothes on me you can wear when you get out.” Mingyu offers.

“Yeah, and we’ll even throw your clothes in the washer real quick and she’ll never know!” Jeonghan looks around the kitchen before grabbing the now infamous bowl of strawberry frosting. He stares at it hard before eyeing the kitchen floor and tossing the bowl with enough force to shatter when it hits the floor.

“Jeonghan, what the fuck?!” you scream, flinching at the sound of glass breaking.

“I’ll tell her I knocked the bowl over, it broke, got all over you and now you’re showering. Plus, the frosting was dirty anyway now,” he shrugs, a smile playing on the corners of his lips. Part of you is annoyed at the prospect of having to put more work in to recreate the frosting which was the only part of the whole baking process that turned out successful. “When you’re out, Gyu and I will even help you guys so you’re done quicker.” At his suggestion, you quirk an eyebrow at him. “Okay, well mostly Gyu will help, but I’ll help clean up and do little shit or whatever, okay?”

“Deal,” you decide finally, glancing at your phone. Sooyoung will likely be more than halfway home at this point so you don’t have time to think of another plan.

The three of you split up then. You head for the bathroom to shower while Mingyu starts to clean up the bowl and the frosting from the floor. Jeonghan takes your clothes to the washing machine to start the load, then grabs some clothes from Mingyu’s overnight bag in his room for you to change into.

By the time you’re clean, washed, and in Mingyu’s oversized shorts and t-shirt, you can hear Sooyoung in the kitchen.

When you round the corner into the kitchen, three sets of eyes fix on you and Sooyoung rushes over to you. “Y/n, are you okay?! These two morons told me what they did!”

“Yeah, I’m okay. No injuries to report.” You give her a small smile, ignoring the wiggle of Jeonghan’s eyebrows behind her.

“Good. I feel so bad. If you want you don’t have to help anymore. I’ve already taken up your Sunday and forced you over here to work for free and now my idiot brother has ruined your clothes.”

“I’m literally right here,” Jeoghan reminds his sister as he finishes laying out the groceries she brought home.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Sooyoung grumps, rolling her eyes.

“No, really it’s okay. I’m happy to help and besides, you didn’t ruin my Sunday at all, I promise!” She has no idea how true that statement is, but you manage to reassure her and she eventually nods, believing you, but still saying you can leave at any time.

You set to work helping her begin the batch of chocolate cupcakes as she works on making more strawberry frosting. You truly don’t mind helping, especially if that means you get to share sneaky glances and secret touches with Jeonghan. Today has been anything but a lazy Sunday, but you can’t say you mind too much.