#it needs to be a cup with a handle please

[mwphisto]

Simple things that turn LnDs men on~

Including: Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, and Caleb x reader. Reader is implied female but most can be interpreted however you please!

Warning, this post is 18+! Some lighter smut since my brain cannot handle anything else atm (I’m graduating university in 3 weeks)

Shifting banner from @cafekitsune <3

Xavier

Cuddling with you, seeing you sleepy and warm and soft in his embrace, under his blankets, in his bed. He can’t help it, you’re just so perfect, so sweet in this state. His hands can’t help but wander, sliding over your soft tummy, your thighs, eventually landing to cup your chest. His nose nuzzles into the crown of your head, inhaling your shampoo, and the next thing he knows? His hips are swiveling softly into the plush of your ass.

When you get mad. He’s not capable of explaining why his body has the reaction it does. Other than the plain statement of “you’re hot when you’re mad.” Which isn’t a lie, Xavier finds you so hot when you’re angry. Seeing you so passionate about something that it gets your blood boiling? He’s thinking of ways to get you to cool down. How easily he could switch the downward tilt of your brows into something far more… relaxed… pleased… blissed out…

Sitting on his lap is a definite way to get his attention. Xavier can get a bit lost in his hobbies, whether it be reading or scrolling articles on his phone. Sometimes the call of his name doesn’t snap him out of his trance. But you know what does? Settling your pretty self on his muscular legs, a smile on your lips, your hands cupping his cheeks and guiding him up towards your glittery eyes. The weight of you on him, the warmth, the surprise of his train of thought being interrupted, all of it has his heart rate spiking. Until all he can see, hear, and feel is you.

Rafayel

Matching his energy can totally catch the artist off guard — the absolute best way. To be blunt, you’re able to match his freak so well he can’t help but get turned on at how in sync the two of you are. His beautiful bride, perfect in every way. When you two are so effortlessly on the same page, he finds himself struggling to keep his composure. Luckily for him, you always seem to know what he’s thinking without him so much as saying a word.

Willingly being his muse just might send Raf into a coma. Seeing you sprawled over his couch, barely dressed so he can do some anatomy sketches has him shifting uncomfortably on his stool. Your sweet smile, delicate and skilled hands, the way you whisper his name while he scribbles on his paper with a rosy blush on his cheeks. You’re just so effortlessly beautiful it drives him insane.

Noticing the smallest details about him will get his head spinning. Rafayel harbors a lot of mixed emotions regarding his past and he loves you wholeheartedly but sometimes he just can’t… let go. When you take the time to get to know him — or as much as he’s willing to give you — and you actually pick up on things that go unsaid? His head is spinning, his heart pounding, the seal on his chest burning brightly. He wants to devote himself to you, it’s just part of his nature at this point. Eventually, he’ll work through it all and give into what he needs most…

Zayne

Your laughter sends his heart into a nose dive. He’s never been one for jokes, his dry humor often carrying him through. But when he says something that genuinely has you belly laughing, his name a sweet melody on your lips as you try and contain your giggles? He’s shifting his legs to hide the growing tension between his legs. You look at him with such adoration, so sweet and delicate, he has to reign himself in before frost creeps up his neck.

Giving him your full attention when he begins to ramble about nerdy medical things definitely causes the surgeon to lose his train of thought. You may not understand the scientific terms he’s using, and you may feel a bit bad when he has to explain them again with simpler terminology, but your attention is undivided regardless. And Zayne notices, of course he does. His heart is pounding as he rattles off all of his fascinations — such as new research he’s compiled about neonatal heart defects. You’re so engaged with him, nodding along and even asking him some questions. He’s fighting the urge to kiss you senseless. After a long day you’re so willing to listen to him ramble on about his research? He’s going to marry you, and fuck you senseless for being such a good girl.

Taking care of him, such as shaving his face or washing his hair will have Zayne be putty in your hands. He does so much for others, puts so much care and effort into making their lives better. It’s only right that you step up and do the same for Dr. Zayne. Though, bless him, he didn’t expect you to straddle his lap and shave him with a straight razor. Didn’t expect to be engulfed by the sent of your perfume as you settle your weight on his legs and glide the razor over his skin. It’s intimate, the proximity of your bodies is close enough to generate some warmth. He’ll lose it before you’re able finish one side of his unshaven cheek.

Sylus

Skinship with the leader of Onychinus is pretty special. Sylus savors every second of it, given that your hands rarely touch him outside of holding his waist when on his bike. The feeling of your fingers on his cheeks, your legs caging his as you sit together on the couch, your fingers intertwining with his. He’s a goner, so touch starved it’s nearly pitiful. He’s always been a man of composure, but god dammit you’re just so soft compared to him. You’re so warm and smell so good and you’re just so… you’re so sparing with your touches. As if you’re hesitant, not sure if he’d want your hands on him in the first place. Drives him so insane, he craves to hold you close but doesn’t want to push you before you’re ready.

Seeing you wear clothes he picked out for you has Sylus adjusting his collar and inhaling deep through his nose. His mark is on you, even if it’s not on your skin, you’re dressed so beautifully. You match him, compliment him perfectly. You look so breathtaking he has to mentally pat himself on the back for having such damn good taste. Seeing you feel yourself in what he’s picked does wonders for his already big ego. Seeing you twirl and smile as you admire yourself in the dress, the skirt, the pants, the shirt, whatever he’s picked out for you for the occasion. It gives him a sense of pride, like he’s done good, and it’s a genuine plus that you look so goddamn perfect in every outfit.

Kissing his knuckles nearly sends him over the edge one night. You had finished cleaning some wounds while his evol recharged and sealed the deal with a gingerly placed kiss on his battered knuckles. Sylus nearly sees stars because of it, such an overwhelming surge of possessiveness and heat flooding his weary veins that he nearly pops a hard-on then and there on the floor.

Caleb

Stealing his clothing is something you’ve always done. Something about it being comfier, softer, smelling like him. God he doesn’t even care for the reason, he just knows you look so divine in his shirt, his boxers, his hoodie. So cute and small compared to him, marked as his for anyone who has the gracious opportunity to see you in such a state. He guesses it’s only fair you steal his clothes, since he has a small — but growing — collection of your panties—

Relying on him 100% would put Caleb on cloud nine. Giving up your tough guy act and simply putting all of your needs on him would have him struggling to keep his composure long enough to actually see the tasks through. Could be something as simple as asking him to cut up some fruit for you, could be as complicated as giving your bike a tuneup. Regardless, Caleb is blissed out and glossy-eyed as he shows his love for you in his favorite fashion.

Slipping into his bed in the middle of the night has been something you’ve done since childhood. Bad dream, can’t sleep, anxious or stressed, Caleb’s arms have always been your biggest comfort. He waits for it, waits for the creak of his door and your quiet whisper of permission. He craves the dip of his mattress, the weight and warmth of your body next to his under his sheets. He has to be mindful of where his hips land on you, purely out of fear that you might feel something you’re not supposed to just yet.

[sqgeism]

On a roll with the Anaxa fics! (i love him so much i cant even)

so, a bit specific; sometimes i bottle up emotions and get so anxious i might even get physically sick from it. what would phainon and anaxa do for reader when that happens? +anyone else you like

Thank you for reading. Don't do if this crosses boundaries

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | anaxa and phainon (seperate) x gender neutral reader

love mail — hellooo anonnie!! thank u i try my best w him and the others ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ i hope you're alright!! i hope this request is up to standard and u enjoy also erm anaxa's is more nausea n stuff.. phainon is like. actual sickness. like you're unwell.. sick and stuff... sorry i wasn't sure so i did both ゜゜(´O｀)°゜

long before you got into a relationship, you understood how to handle yourself when your stomach began to churn in nausea. your own steps to stop it, or to recover afterwards.

anaxa watches as you fidget quietly, today was another experiment regarding his pursuit for knowledge- but it involved something physically violent for him. he knows you're more morally intact than him, more human, but he's not going to act above those feelings. he cares for you, even if it's hard to see upon first glance.

"sorry." you see him staring, and force yourself to hold it together. but anaxa isn't having it.

he puts away whatever he was focused on, but the confrontation makes it worse. you don't wanna ruin his experiment, so you abruptly stand. "please excuse me. don't wait, just continue."

he blinks as you walk off, out of his lab and back to the hallways. it doesn't take long for him to follow, noticing how you frantically down a cup of water.

anaxa puts two and two together. he's not stupid, he knows your habits, he knows you.

before you can even reach out to the cabinets, he's already opening them and reaching for crackers that you leave for moments like this. he pops a bag and passes a cracker to you, his expression stern but caring. "i noticed these help you, please, eat it slowly."

once his hands are free, anaxa opens the kitchen window to let in fresh air. then you notice, that he's noticed. he knows how to help, he's learned how to help, and you've never realized it before. "is there anything else you need?" the utter concern snaps you out of your daze, and anaxa's suddenly looming over you now, his knuckles brush against your cheek and his eye is fixed on your face. studying you for any more signs of discomfort.

"i won't be continuing with the experiment today," he sees how your face shifts and shakes his head. "don't worry, i'll find something else to do. i'm realizing now that my experiment has too many risks, yet the only one i care about is the one that tells me that you'll be upset with me."

the sage brings you into his arms, having you close as he buries himself in your hair. "please, never be upset with me."

phainon doesn't want to scold you, but he really wants to. though you don't need that right now, especially with the fact you've had such a shit week and the fact you're bedridden.

he's cuddling you while you rest, listening to you snore as he's behind you, your head on his bicep and legs tangled together. he'd say it would make it hard to leave, but he has no plans to. so he doesn't care.

you two often had conversations about how you handle emotions. you were still navigating that realm of your relationship after being an independent person for so long, and phainon understood that it would take time.. but moments like this made him worry. had his heart aching, wishing he could do more.

he wasn't able to catch on that you were bottling it up either, you were good, he'll give you that. but you could've gone to him, he knows you don't want to be a bother but he prays that you'd 'bother' him. that you'd choose to focus your attention on him, for anything. because he'll be there, aeon forbid he's halfway across the universe cause he'll do anything to go back home, to you.

"i wish you'd trust me more." he knows you're sleeping, but he doesn't mind. he hopes that these words reach you while you're at least at peace. "i'd never force you to, i promise. but it really does something to me whenever this happens and i feel powerless to help." phainon chuckles in a way that's completely robbed of any humor. "i'm a chrysos heir, for aeon's sake. i can handle whatever outburst you throw at me that you'll think i'll be upset over."

his hand ghosts over your hair, slowly caressing you. "but i'll never be. i'll never be upset, not at you. and not when you're just experiencing stress."

he brings his mouth to your ear, whispering. "i love you. i love you, and you know that. so let me take care of you."

he notices how you shiver slightly.

that's when phainon lets out a genuine laugh, stopping you from squirming away from him.

[leriexoxo]

TRAFFIC JAM

Bff! Jisung x Reader

Tags: aphrodisiac trope, accidental drugging (non-malicious), public setting (car), masturbation, voyeurism, fingering, desperate!reader, panicked but horny!jisung, protected sex, creampie, Smut, Slow Burn, Best Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Drug-Induced Arousal

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: You and your best friend Jisung go to a party. Nothing crazy. Nothing new. Until you take a drink that wasn’t meant for you. It doesn’t hit until you’re in the car on the way home, stuck in traffic, rain pounding on the roof—and suddenly, your body is on fire. Sweating, squirming, overstimulated… and Jisung is right beside you, panicking, blushing, painfully hard, and utterly unequipped to handle what you’re doing in the passenger seat.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jisung was already side-eyeing your outfit when you stepped out of your room. He didn’t say anything—just blinked too many times and tried to fix his expression when you caught him staring.

“Too much?” you asked, doing a little spin.

It was. A tight, black mini-skirt that hugged your hips and rode dangerously high when you walked. Your top was some sheer lacy thing that left little to the imagination. But you were confident. And Jisung was your best friend. He could handle it.

“Just enough,” he croaked, then cleared his throat. “I mean—it’s fine. You look hot. Not that I’m saying that like—ugh, never mind.”

The party was already in full swing when you got there. Red cups, loud music, too many people packed into a too-small house. You got separated for a bit. Some guy from the friend circle handed you a drink—rum and soda, probably. You sipped it without thinking. It was cold, sweet, a little syrupy. A nice buzz settled in after the first few gulps.

By the time Jisung found you again, you were perched on the arm of a couch, giggling too much, legs crossed like a show, your hand on someone’s arm as they talked. But your eyes lit up when you saw him.

“There you are!” You reached for his hoodie sleeve, tugging him down to sit beside you. “I missed you.”

His eyes darted from your bare thigh to your flushed cheeks. “You okay?”

“I’m good,” you said, a little too quickly. “I feel kinda warm, though. Probably just the booze.”

He squinted. “What did you drink?”

You blinked. “Umm… the cup on the counter. I thought it was mine.”

He stiffened. “You sure?”

You shrugged. “Eh. Tasted fine.”

But a little while later, you started getting really warm. Not just drunk-warm—sweaty, tingly, overly sensitive. Every brush of your skin felt like static. Your clothes were suddenly suffocating. You tugged at the lace edge of your top and leaned against Jisung’s side without thinking, cheek pressed to his shoulder like he was your personal AC unit.

“Jesus, you’re burning up,” he muttered, frowning. “You wanna head out?”

You nodded, eyes fluttering. “Please.”

He helped you up with a hand at your waist, and you leaned into it a little too eagerly, like you needed his body to stay upright. Like you needed contact.

The rain had started by the time you made it to his car. Big, heavy drops hitting the windshield as he drove, music low, your body curled in the passenger seat. You rolled the window down just an inch to get cool air, but it didn’t help.

You were sweating. Your thighs were sticky. And deep in your core, something throbbed.

You didn’t know what was happening yet. But you knew one thing:

You were not just drunk.

The rain was steady now. Heavy, rhythmic, blurring the windshield in waves. Wipers swiped back and forth in a lazy beat as Jisung drove, eyes on the road but stealing glances at you every other second.

You had one knee pulled up onto the seat, your skirt hiking even higher in the process. The window was cracked an inch, letting in cool air that barely helped. You pressed your cheek to the glass, trying to regulate your breathing.

“I feel… weird,” you whispered.

Jisung’s fingers tightened on the wheel. “Still?”

“It’s not the alcohol,” you said, voice shaky. “It’s something else. I’m hot—like really hot. Everything feels… sensitive.”

He looked at you again. Longer this time. “Wait—are you okay? What do you mean sensitive?”

You hesitated. Embarrassed. But the pressure between your legs was building, and you were squirming, shifting every few seconds in the seat because nothing was giving you relief.

“My skin’s on fire,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the rain. “Even my thighs—I can feel my heartbeat there.”

His face twisted. “Did someone spike your drink?”

You blinked at him slowly, like your brain was catching up a few steps late. “Maybe,” you breathed. “I don’t know.”

You reached down, pressing the heel of your palm between your thighs—like you could squash the feeling away.

You couldn’t.

Your hips twitched at the contact. A soft, breathy whine slipped from your lips before you could stop it. And Jisung—poor, sweet, repressed Jisung—nearly swerved into the lane divider.

“*Jesus—okay, okay, um—fuck,” he blurted, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel like it personally offended him. “D-Don’t do that. Or do. I mean—shit, I don’t know what I’m saying—”

You moaned again, softer, clenching your thighs as your fingers teased the inside of one. “It hurts. I can’t sit still.”

“I—There’s a traffic jam up ahead,” he stammered. “Accident or something. We’re gonna be stuck for a bit. Can you—like—breathe through it?”

You nodded, but your hand slid further up your thigh, bunching the edge of your skirt. “I can’t,” you whispered. “I need something. I need more.”

You were unraveling—shaking, whining, breath hitching with every wet slide of your fingers.

And beside you, Jisung was gripping the wheel like it was the only thing keeping him from doing something unforgivable.

The traffic hadn’t moved in ten minutes.

Red brake lights glowed against the fogged windshield. The rain kept falling, relentless and loud, turning the car into a little cage of heat and heavy breathing.

Your legs wouldn’t stop shifting. Thighs rubbing. Hands clenched in your lap. But no matter how you moved, it didn’t help—it just made it worse.

“I feel like I’m gonna crawl out of my skin,” you whispered.

Jisung glanced at you, worried. “Is it still happening?”

You nodded, chewing your bottom lip. “It’s getting worse.”

He didn’t say anything. His jaw tightened as his eyes flicked back to the road. But you saw it—the way his fingers twitched on the steering wheel. The way his knee bounced like he couldn’t sit still either.

You tried pressing your thighs together. Hard. But the pressure between your legs was so intense now it was making your stomach clench.

A soft whimper slipped out before you could stop it.

Jisung flinched. His voice cracked. “Are you—are you okay?”

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” you murmured, eyes squeezing shut. “I didn’t mean to drink it. Whatever was in it. I can’t—my body won’t calm down.”

He exhaled, shaky. “Fuck.”

“I keep getting these… spikes. Like waves of heat. And my—” you paused, swallowing thickly. “My body feels so empty. Like I need something.”

You turned away from him, facing the passenger window. The rain was cool against the glass. But it didn’t help. Not enough. You were sweating. Trembling.

And getting wetter by the second.

Your hand slipped down, slow and hesitant, and when your fingers brushed against your inner thigh, your hips jerked.

“Shit—” you gasped, barely above a whisper.

You looked down. Your panties were soaked. Practically see-through. You could feel your heartbeat inside them.

You slid your hand beneath the fabric.

And whimpered.

Jisung made a sound—a quiet, choked noise that he tried (and failed) to smother with the back of his hand.

“Are you—” he cleared his throat. “Are you… touching yourself?”

You couldn’t answer. You didn’t want to say yes. Not to him. But you couldn’t lie either. Your fingers were already sliding through your folds, slow and shaky, collecting slick.

The first circle over your clit made your legs twitch and a broken moan spill from your lips.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

He made a strangled noise. “You’re my best friend.”

“I know.” You closed your eyes. “That’s why I shouldn’t—but I can’t stop. My body won’t listen.”

He groaned, low and tortured. “You’re—fuck, you’re actually doing it. Right next to me.”

You didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Your hand was moving now—steady, tight circles, hips shifting just enough to chase the pressure. The heat was coiling low, tighter and tighter, until it was all you could focus on.

“I can look away,” he whispered, but didn’t.

You moaned again. Higher. Shaky. Embarrassed.

“I’m trying to be quiet,” you said, trembling. “But it feels too good. Everything feels too good.”

He cursed under his breath. His hips shifted again, and you knew—you knew—he was hard. Probably painfully so. His leg was bouncing, his fists clenched on his thighs, and his jaw was so tight it looked like it hurt.

You turned slightly toward him, eyes hazy. “Are you okay?”

His head dropped back against the seat. “No. Not even close.”

The car was fogged with your moans and the smell of your arousal. Every soft sound you made—every shaky breath, every wet shlick of your fingers—it all had Jisung spiraling deeper.

“Why does it feel like this?” you asked, breathless. “It’s like I can’t get enough.”

“You’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind,” he hissed.

Your fingers moved faster. You gasped, moaning his name without thinking.

He jolted.

“You’re saying my name while you—” He cut himself off with a groan, throwing his head back. “Oh my god.”

You whimpered again, head rolling back, eyes fluttering shut. “I can’t stop,” you whispered. “I’m sorry, Sungie.”

He looked at you.

Really looked.

And saw it all.

Your legs spread. Your skirt bunched. Your hand moving frantically between your legs as you arched into your own touch, flushed and wrecked and so, so close.

“I shouldn’t be watching this,” he said, but his voice was hoarse. Hungry.

Your orgasm hit like a wave crashing over you, hips jerking, back arching, mouth falling open in a desperate cry. Your fingers worked you through it, thighs trembling, breath coming in gasps.

Jisung stared.

Frozen… And painfully hard.

—

The car was dead silent except for your breathing.

Heavy. Sticky. Tired.

Your thighs were still trembling.

You tried to fix your skirt, hands unsteady, the fabric clinging to the sweat on your skin. You didn’t dare look at Jisung. Couldn’t.

Not after that.

Not after the sounds you’d made.

Not after the way your fingers had moved.

Not after the way his name had ripped out of you mid-orgasm.

You heard him exhale beside you. A shaky, broken breath.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, still facing the window. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”

His voice was rough. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I do. I—” You winced, pressing your forehead to the glass. “God, it was so embarrassing.”

“It wasn’t,” he said quietly. “It was… it was a lot. But it wasn’t embarrassing.”

You finally looked at him.

His cheeks were flushed. His eyes were wrecked. His jeans still tight around the hard-on he’d been trying to hide for the last ten minutes.

You swallowed. The heat was fading—just a little. You thought maybe it was over. Maybe you could survive the ride home.

But then it came back.

Harder.

Like a flame licking up your spine. Like your nerve endings snapped awake and screamed for more.

You gasped, grabbing the edge of the seat. Your knees pulled in, thighs clenching together, your hips twitching involuntarily. It felt like lightning, sharp and heavy and deep, right between your legs.

“N-no—no, not again—” you whimpered.

Jisung sat up straight. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t—fuck, it’s coming back,” you sobbed. “It’s worse this time. I can’t—I can’t—”

Your hand darted to his sleeve, gripping his shirt in a panic. He turned, saw your eyes—glassy, desperate, pleading.

“Sungie,” you cried out, voice barely holding together. “Please.”

That broke him.

Without a word, he yanked the steering wheel and swerved into the emergency lane. Rain hissed on the pavement. He threw the car into park, hands shaking.

Then silence…

Breathing… Tension so thick you could taste it.

And then he said: “Friends help each other, right?”

You blinked at him.

He was already climbing over the console, into your space, cupping your face with both hands.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered. “Tell me this is too much and I’ll back off. I swear.”

You couldn’t.

Your thighs rubbed together again. “I need something,” you said, voice trembling. “I need you.”

That was it.

He pulled your seat back with a sharp click, his hands already under your skirt, dragging your soaked panties down with a speed that had your breath catching.

“You’ve been suffering for too long,” he muttered, kissing your throat. “You were sitting here—right fucking next to me—touching yourself while I couldn’t do a goddamn thing.”

You gasped, your head tipping back against the seat.

“I couldn’t stop watching,” he groaned, kissing your jaw, your cheek, your shoulder. “You moaned my name and I almost came in my pants. Do you know how insane that is?”

Your legs spread instinctively as he slid between them, one hand stroking your inner thigh, the other cradling your face like he was still in denial this was real.

“Sungie,” you whimpered, writhing against the seat, “please, I can’t—I need your fingers, I need something—”

He didn’t make you wait.

One hand moved between your thighs, his fingertips grazing your soaked folds, and he let out a raw, choked groan.

“Holy shit. You’re still dripping.”

His fingers slipped inside you like they belonged there. You cried out, hands gripping his arms, hips bucking up to meet his touch.

“Oh my god—yes—yes—fuck, right there—”

He moved faster. Deeper. Curling his fingers the same way you had earlier—but better. More controlled. More deliberate. The heel of his palm pressed against your clit with every stroke, dragging a filthy moan from your lips every time.

Your body was on fire.

Your back arched.

And your best friend was fucking you with his fingers in the front seat of his car, rain pouring outside, traffic crawling past behind tinted windows—and none of it felt real.

“You needed this,” he panted against your neck, as if trying to justify himself. “You needed someone to help. So let me. Let me take care of you.”

“Sungie—please, don’t stop—”

“I’m not stopping until you cum on my hand,” he growled. “Not again. Not like that. I want it now—I want to feel it.”

You shattered.

Your orgasm hit so hard you nearly screamed, thighs clamping around his hand, nails digging into his shoulders. He didn’t stop—not for a second—fingers fucking you through it while you rode every pulse and tremor and cry, hips rolling, mouth open, body wrecked.

When it faded, he leaned in close. His forehead pressed to yours.

Both of you were breathing like you’d just sprinted through a storm.

“…We’re still best friends, right?” you whispered.

He laughed—breathy, wrecked, delirious.

“Sure,” he said. “Just best friends who make each other cum in parked cars now.”

—

You were still panting in the passenger seat, your skin warm and glowing, legs spread lazily with your skirt rucked up around your hips. Your panties were somewhere on the floor, forgotten, soaked.

And Jisung…

He hadn’t moved.

He was staring down at you with wide, dazed eyes. His chest was heaving. His hair stuck to his forehead, damp with sweat. And his jeans?

Still on. Still tight. Still miserable.

You reached for his belt.

His hand shot out, catching your wrist. “W-wait—what are you doing?”

You looked up at him through your lashes. “You didn’t cum.”

“I wasn’t supposed to,” he breathed. “This wasn’t—this wasn’t about me.”

You sat up just enough to lean close, lips brushing his cheek, his jaw, the corner of his mouth.

“It is now,” you whispered. “I want you to feel what I felt.”

He shook his head, desperate. “I’ll lose control.”

“Then lose it.”

You pulled his hand between your legs again—still soaked, still throbbing—and moaned softly as your walls clenched at the contact.

“I want you inside me, Jisung.”

His eyes widened. His whole body stiffened.

“I want you to use me,” you whispered against his ear. “Just for a little. I can take it. Please—please, I want to feel you.”

That was the final straw.

He moved so fast it knocked the breath from your lungs.

Your seat went all the way back with a sharp click. His belt hit the floor. His jeans and boxers shoved down just far enough for his cock to spring free—hard, red, glistening at the tip.

And fuck, he was big.

Thick. Desperate. Veins throbbing down the shaft, heavy with need.

He fisted himself once, twice, then leaned over you, bracing a hand beside your head.

“This isn’t gonna be slow,” he warned, his voice hoarse. “I’ve been hard since you said my name back then.”

You nodded. “I don’t want slow.”

His hips snapped forward.

You gasped as the head of his cock slid through your folds—slick from your arousal—and then pressed in, inch by inch, until he was stretching you open.

“Holy shit,” he choked out. “You’re so fucking wet—so tight—I can’t—”

He sank in all the way, and both of you groaned—loud. The car shook slightly under the sudden movement. Rain pounded the roof. His forehead dropped to your shoulder.

“This is insane,” he whispered. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“But it feels good,” you whispered back, kissing the curve of his jaw. “Doesn’t it?”

He lifted his head. Looked at you.

Something broke behind his eyes.

And then he started to move.

Not careful. Not hesitant. Just fucking.

Desperate, hungry thrusts that had your body rocking up the seat, your hands gripping his back, your legs wrapped tight around his waist.

You moaned his name again—and he snapped.

“You don’t get to say that,” he growled, fucking into you harder. “Not like that—not when you’re letting me fuck you in my car.”

“Sungie—ahhh, fuck—it’s so good—”

“Yeah?” he panted. “Is this what you needed?”

You nodded, eyes rolling back as his cock hit deep, angling perfectly inside you.

“This what best friends do now?” he murmured, mouth hot on your neck. “Do we just fuck when we’re frustrated?”

“If it’s like this?” you gasped. “Yes. God, yes.”

He let out a broken moan, hips stuttering. “You’re gonna make me cum so fast.”

“Do it,” you whispered. “Cum inside me. Please.”

His thrusts grew erratic. Rough. The windows were fogged completely now, the air thick with sex, the scent of sweat and skin and need.

You dragged your nails down his back and tightened your legs around him.

“I want to feel it,” you moaned. “Want to feel you fill me up, Sungie.”

He groaned—loud, wrecked—and then he slammed into you one final time, cock pulsing as he spilled inside you, gasping and panting and shaking as he came harder than he ever had in his life.

The second he was done, he collapsed on top of you, forehead pressed to your collarbone.

His voice was muffled when he finally spoke. “We’re so fucked.”

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair.

“But you feel better, right?”

He laughed—hoarse and breathless.

“Yeah,” he said. “Way better.”

—

The traffic was moving again.

Barely. Slowly. But the world had started turning while you were half-naked in the passenger seat of Jisung’s car, legs spread and body full of his cum.

And now… now the silence was unbearable.

You’d pulled your skirt back down.

Tried to sit normal.

Tried not to squirm even though his cum was sticky and warm between your thighs, and every bump in the road made it shift a little more inside you.

Jisung gripped the wheel like it had personally offended him.

His knuckles were white.

You snuck a glance at him. His jaw was clenched. His hair was messy. He had scratches down the back of his neck from where you’d grabbed him—and the mark your mouth left on his collarbone was definitely visible under the collar of his shirt.

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Tried again.

“…Do we talk about it?”

He exhaled through his nose. “What, now?”

You shrank slightly. “I mean. We just—kind of had sex.”

He turned to look at you.

His eyes dragged down your body. Landed on your thighs—still sticky, slightly trembling. He swallowed hard.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Kind of.”

You chewed your lip. “We’re still good though, right?”

He didn’t answer at first.

Then: “Yeah. Of course.”

But his hand reached over.

Landed on your knee.

Squeezed gently.

And didn’t move.

You didn’t say anything about it.

Didn’t say anything when his thumb started brushing little circles into your skin. Or when the heat in your belly started coiling again—not sharp, not desperate this time. Just simmering. Warm.

“You okay?” he asked suddenly.

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You’re quiet. I’m just… I dunno. Making sure you don’t regret it.”

You paused. “Do you?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Then he whispered, “No. Not even a little.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

“But,” he added, voice tighter, “I do regret not getting to see your face when I made you cum like that.”

You turned to him slowly, wide-eyed.

“Jisung—”

“I’m serious,” he said, finally glancing at you again. “It was dark, and I was too far down, and you were pulling my hair so hard I thought I was gonna pass out—”

Your thighs clenched. Visibly.

“—but I still wanted to look up. Just once. Just to see you.”

You squirmed in your seat again.

He smirked. “Still sensitive?”

You crossed your legs. “A little.”

“I could help with that again,” he offered, voice low. “If we weren’t still like, thirty minutes from home.”

You didn’t say anything. Just looked out the window and whispered:

“…What if we didn’t wait that long?”

His hands jerked on the wheel.

He choked. “Don’t fuck with me.”

You turned to him, eyes innocent but voice dripping with heat.

“I mean,” you said softly, “you already came in me once today. Might as well make it a real habit.”

The car swerved slightly before Jisung gripped the wheel tighter and growled, “We are not doing this again on the freeway.”

You giggled. “Fine. Then get us home.”

And God help you both, by the time you stumbled through the door of Jisung’s apartment, your hands were already on each other.

Shoes kicked off. Jackets hitting the floor.

His mouth found yours before the door even clicked shut.

He kissed you like he was starving. Like he couldn’t believe he’d waited this long. Tongue deep, lips bruising, fingers sliding under your shirt, pushing you back step by step until the backs of your knees hit the bed.

He broke the kiss, panting, staring down at you like you were a dream.

“Get on the bed,” he said softly.

You did.

You crawled back until you were sprawled across the pillows, chest rising and falling fast, skirt riding up your thighs again. The room was dim, but the glow of the hallway light still poured in—just enough for him to see everything.

Jisung stood at the edge of the bed, eyes dark, chest rising in heavy, controlled breaths.

“You look so fucking pretty like that.”

You bit your lip, spreading your legs just enough to make him groan.

“I still need you, Sungie.”

He stripped fast—shirt over his head, jeans kicked away, boxers shoved down. His cock was already hard again, flushed and leaking at the tip, twitching when he caught the way your thighs squeezed together.

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you. One hand cradled your face.

“I’m gonna go slow this time,” he murmured. “I want to feel all of you. Every inch.”

You nodded, lips parted. “Please.”

He kissed you again—softer now. Deeper. Like a promise.

His hand slid between your legs, fingers brushing your soaked folds, and he moaned against your mouth.

“You’re still wet,” he whispered. “Still messy from earlier.”

He pushed two fingers in slowly, watching your face.

You gasped, hips rolling. “Fuck. Jisung—”

“I wanna see you fall apart this time,” he breathed, curling his fingers just right. “No distractions. Just you and me.”

You were already whining, eyes fluttering shut—but he caught your chin gently, made you look at him.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he said. “Wanna see you when I make you cum.”

You nodded weakly. “I’ll try. Just—please—don’t stop—”

He didn’t.

When he finally lined up at your entrance, sliding in slow, every inch was torture.

You clung to his arms, gasping into his neck, your body stretching open to take him again.

“So tight,” he hissed. “Fuck, you feel unreal.”

And then he started to move.

Deep, slow thrusts that rocked your body beneath him. He kept his forehead pressed to yours, breathing heavy, lips brushing your mouth every time he pulled back and pushed in again.

You held his face with both hands, moaning softly.

“Feels so good, Sungie.”

“Yeah?” he whispered, fucking into you a little deeper. “You’re taking me so well. You were made for this.”

You whimpered, walls fluttering around him.

“F-for you,” you gasped. “Only you.”

His hips stuttered.

“Say that again.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.

“I want it to be you. I want it to always be you.”

He growled—deep and low—then started thrusting harder. The bed creaked, your moans growing louder with each roll of his hips, each pass over that sweet spot inside you.

“Don’t stop—please—don’t stop—” you cried, nails clawing at his back.

“I’m not,” he panted. “I’m gonna make you cum on my cock. Wanna feel you squeeze me.”

You were so close.

Your hands gripped his hair, eyes locked on his, mouth falling open as the pleasure built like a tidal wave.

“I’m gonna—oh god—Jisung—!”

“Look at me,” he whispered, thrusts sharp and deep. “Look at me when you cum.”

You did.

And the second you locked eyes with him, your body exploded.

You came with a cry, walls clenching so hard around him it dragged a broken moan from his throat.

“Fuck—fuck— I’m gonna—”

He kissed you again, hard and messy, then groaned as he thrust once more and came deep inside you, filling you up with thick, hot pulses, hips grinding as he milked every drop into your still-quivering cunt.

When it was over, he collapsed onto you, both of you gasping, sweaty, tangled in each other.

The room was quiet except for your heartbeats and the soft sounds of your breath.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead.

He didn’t move.

Then, finally, in a soft, dazed voice—

“…We are so doing that again.”

You laughed, breathless. “We’re not just best friends anymore, are we?”

He smiled against your skin.

“Nope,” he whispered. “You’re mine now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: I think at this point ive written a best friends to lovers fic for all the members 😂 i’m so loving it!

I know i enjoyed writing this one but if you did too, give it a like and drop that comment, let me know what you think!!! Reblog too ❤️

[kangshxrtie]

41 . u up?

the second daniela texted that she was outside, you were already out the door since you had been ready the moment she texted back.

"heyy," you greeted as soon as you got into the car, settling into the passenger seat.

daniela didn't respond at first and just looked over at you; squinting like she was still mad, but the corner at her mouth was fighting to stay straight.

"don't think this means i've forgiven you yet," she said, starting the car.

"of course not. this is just... us getting a little sweet treat," you said with a smile, even though you both knew it meant more than that.

"oh, is that what this is?" daniela replied, pulling out of the driveway. "i don't know if a slurpee is enough to make me forgive you. you emotionally bruised me."

you laughed, leaning your head back against the seat. "i missed you."

she didn't respond right away, but you noticed her fingers twitch on the gear shift like she was fighting the urge to reach out.

"i missed you too," she finally muttered, eyes still on the road.

a quiet moment passed, soft and warm, before you broke it with a smile. "so... about that slurpee?"

"i was promised a make-out session," daniela said, glancing at you.

"and i said as soon as i get my slurpee," you grinned.

"i didn't realize this had terms and conditions," she teased.

"it's because i'm your passenger princess, it gives me a reason to act like this" you shot back.

"i could pull over right now," daniela warned.

"let's not crash over a kiss. 7/11's five minutes away," you said, amused.

"fine," she sighed dramatically, finally sliding her hand over to hold yours. "i guess i can wait a couple of minutes."

you looked down at your hands, fingers perfectly laced together, and smiled. "i promise i'll make it worth your while."

"keep talking like that and i will start speeding." daniela glanced over with a smirk.

"no need to risk a speeding ticket over me... unless you're trying to impress me or something," you laughed, squeezing her hand gently.

"please. i impress you just by existing," daniela scoffed.

"okay, confidence," you smirked. "but you're not wrong."

"so you're gonna start being nice to me again now, huh?" she raised an eyebrow at you, clearly trying to hide how flustered that made her.

"i was always nice to you. you were just sulking too hard to notice."

"excuse me?! i was heartbroken! abandoned! replaced by someone named natasha—" daniela pouted.

"oh my god, her name is natty," you laughed, cutting her off.

"whatever. all i know is she got your attention, and i didn't," daniela said, turning into the 7/11 parking lot.

"you've always had my attention; i just didn't know how to deal with it," you looked over at her, more serious now.

"you're lucky you're cute," she said quietly.

"i know," you grinned.

"come on, let's go get your dumb slurpee before i kiss you right here in the parking lot," daniela sighed dramatically but smiled, unbuckling her seatbelt.

"do it then," you said.

"what about my terms and conditions?" daniela asked.

"you can get a little teaser for driving me all the way here," you leaned in slightly, teasing.

that was all it took, daniela leaned over without hesitation, cupping the back of your neck and kissing you like she'd been waiting all week. her lips were warm, her touch gentle but certain, and neither of you seemed in a rush to pull away.

when you finally did, breathless and smiling, you rested your forehead against hers.

"okay, i really want my slurpee now," you said with a grin.

"you're so annoying." daniela gave you a playful side-eye.

"don't worry," you said, already reaching for the door handle. "we'll get back to this soon."

"let's hurry up and get you that slurpee before you drive me insane," daniela said, laughing as she climbed out of the car.

"lead the way then, mi corazón," you winked.

she rolled her eyes, but the blush creeping up her cheeks gave her away. you both walked inside together making a beeline for the slurpee machine.

you grabbed a cup and surveyed your options. "ooh, they have piña colada," you said excitedly, already filling your cup before topping it off with cherry.

"that actually looks kinda good." daniela peeked over your shoulder before grabbing her own cup and copying your mix.

with slurpees in hand, you wandered around the store for a bit, just talking about random things. everything felt easy again like all the tension had melted somewhere between the kiss and the sugar rush.

"oh my god, they have push pops," you said suddenly, peeking into the freezer.

"you want one?" daniela asked.

"kinda," you told her honestly shaking your head with a sheepish smile.

that was all she needed to hear. without a word, she pulled open the freezer door and grabbed two. you smiled as you both walked up to the counter and like she promised, daniela paid for everything.

back in the car, you sat with the windows cracked and music low, just eating your push pops and talking. yours was so frozen it was nearly impossible to push up, and you ended up wrestling with it the whole time, hands cramping up and everything.

"you look like you're fighting for your life right now," daniela kept laughing at you every time you struggled.

"i am," you said dramatically. "this thing is frozen solid. i'm risking my whole wrist just for a bite."

when you finally finished the two of you threw away your wrappings before pulling off. daniela pulled into the empty lot of smut park, the whole place was quiet, dimly lit by a single flickering streetlamp that barely reached the parking area.

"i swear, we always end up here," you said, sipping from your slurpee.

"this is the only place i feel safe parking after ten," daniela said, turning off the engine. "unless you want to make out in a target parking lot."

"...honestly? that sounds fun," you joked.

"next time," she smirked. "this spot's already reserved tonight."

"so..." you said, turning to face her. "i made you a promise earlier"

daniela turned her head slowly, giving you a once-over like she was considering it. "i could, but i'm still emotionally wounded, remember?"

you scoffed. "you literally kissed me first last time. that wound seems pretty healed."

"you call that an apology?" daniela raised a brow.

"i told you i missed you," you said. "that's, like, huge for me. i never tell anybody that."

"fine. i'll let it slide—only because i like you too much" she rolled her eyes but she was clearly fighting a smile.

"wow. romantic," you deadpanned, leaning closer and daniela didn't pull away.

this time, the kiss was softer and less urgent than before. it wasn't about making a point or teasing; it was warm and slow. her hand found your jaw, and your fingers curled around the sleeve of her hoodie.

"i like you, you know," she mumbled, barely audible when you finally pulled away.

"i know," you whispered. "i like you too. a lot."

daniela leaned back in her seat, cheeks flushed and eyes brighter than before. "okay, now what? are we gonna sit here and make out the whole time or...?"

"are you complaining?" you teased, a small smile playing on your lips.

"no," daniela said, her voice softer now. "i just… i didn’t know if you were okay with that."

you tilted your head, eyes locking with hers. "that was literally my whole excuse for asking you to hang out."

daniela laughed under her breath, the tension in her shoulders easing. “well then,” she said, leaning in with that familiar glint in her eyes, “let’s keep doing it.”

and just like that, she kissed you again. no hesitation, no questions, just her lips on yours like that was exactly where they belonged.

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[incognitoleeknow]

Limbo

Synopsis: Minho had everything under control. At least, that's what he liked to portray to those around him. But she saw through it, leaving him with no other choice but to get away from her. The question is, will he be able to resist his urges enough to stay away?  Pairing: Dom!Minho x Fem!Reader Genre: Porn w/o plot, angst Word count: 3.7k

Angst. Semi-established relationship. Mutual pining. Porn without plot. Light BDSM. D/S dynamics. Orgasm control. Edging. Fingering (female receiving). Oral (female receiving). Penetration. Unprotected sex (wrap before you tap). Breath play. Corruption kink. Nicknames like "goddess," "gorgeous," "baby/ babe" & "good girl." Slight degradation. Praise kink. Healthy communication. Aftercare. Third person POV.

A/n: I'm not a native english speaker and I spell like a rake so grammatical errors and spelling errors are bound to be found.

Explicit content, adult themes, suitable for 18+ only.

This is an original work. Do not repost, re-upload or otherwise redistribute.

© April 2025 by IncognitoLeeKnow.

Minho took a deep breath, letting the bitter-sweet scent of the freshly brewed coffee overflow his senses as he brought the cup closer to his face. His muscles relaxed as he released his breath. The late summer breeze provided a feeling of familiarity and comfort as it seeped through the fabric of his white shirt, clinging to his shape. The warm rays of the afternoon sun gently hugged the skin on his arms. 

He despised days like this one. Days that should be relaxing. Days he had set aside to allow himself some peace of mind, to free himself of everyday stress and obligations. Instead, he found himself lost in the sounds in his mind. The overwhelming onslaught of thoughts clouding his senses. Tightly squeezing his chest like a hydraulic press.

His heart ached longingly at the thought of her. Her image, breathtaking and pure, stuck in the back of his mind. She had been the first person to see him for who he truly was. The first to acknowledge his flaws, while still embracing the entirety of his being with the tender touch of a fated lover. Her affection was kind, profound and it downright terrified him. Never before had he felt such a strong connection to another. Nevertheless, her attachment often proved too much for him to handle. Before, he had always managed to come back to his senses, but this time was different. He had promised himself to stay away. Drained by the confusing emotions the outside had brought, he had confined himself to his apartment. 

He didn’t need her, not really. He kept repeating the words over and over in his mind. The security she offered was something he could only ever hope to receive long term, after all.

He took another sip from his cup, letting his body melt into the cushiony pillows of his outdoor lounge chair. His attempt to drown out the ringing in his ears proved futile, leading him to concentrate on the velvety fabric beneath him instead. 

< Bzzt >

The sudden buzz of his phone jolted him out of his new-found comfort. He took a breath through gritted teeth as he swiped down on his phone screen to read the notification. 

[ Missed call: You have 8 missed call(s) from “Goddess.” ]

[ Voicemail: You have 1 missed voicemail(s). ]

“Stupid goddess…” he muttered under his breath, bitterness clinging to his voice like the strongest glue. 

He prepared himself as best he could. Steadying his nerves before pressing on the notification. All sounds were nearly drowned out by the loud thumping of his pulse in his ears. 

“Do not falter, Minho” he reminded himself. 

“Baby? Are you okay? Don’t just shut me out like this. Talk to me. Please? Can't we just talk this out?” 

Her words clear as day through the speaker of his phone. The sound of her voice… just as angelic as he remembered. 

He desired nothing more than to hold her in his arms. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to return her calls, to make it right. But his fear still overpowered him. The risk of hurting her was too great. What if his desires would some day come to hurt her? He couldn't risk it, even though she was willing. 

She had told him multiple times that she could handle it. That she desired nothing more than to be owned by him, used by him. Have him in ways no one ever had before. She trusted him fully, and he trusted her. But what if that wasn’t enough? He didn’t want to figure it out. He needed to cool off, distract himself before his mind became clouded with nothing but impure thoughts of her. 

Turning off the icy-water, Minho felt somewhat relieved for the first time in days. He had hidden himself away in his apartment for a week trying to avoid her. He had spent countless sleepless nights staring at her contact in his phone; resisting the urge to call her. They had gone from calling, texting and meeting each other every day for weeks, just for him to cut all communication as soon as he started feeling that nagging feeling of familiarity. 

Ever the pleasure seeker, the circumstances under which he had met her was no exception. They met each other on a night out. Him out with his boys, her with her girls when their eyes met across the dancefloor. Inebriated lust washed over them faster than the rush of illicit substances as soon as his gaze fell on her. One influenced night of adult fun, resulting in a steady situationship. He supposed the salacious want he felt for her was just that, a mere chemical reaction. A simple biological process…strong enough to awaken the darkest of fantasies. Of course, no one would blame him for it. Not if they had felt the spread of fiery intoxication her big, pleading eyes ignited in his veins whenever she looked at him. In fact, they would grant him a standing ovation for his level of self-restraint, he was sure. 

She knew how to awaken the demon in him … without him ever having to share any of his earthly desires with her. He reckoned the only logical explanation was for her to have been an ancient goddess sent to earth specifically for him. She was made for him; of that he was certain. He wanted to make her happy, protect her from evil, and become a better man for her. Alas, his deep desire to covet her was greater. He needed to claim her, mark her as his own. He craved the corruption of her purity, to make her obsessed with him to the point of others shying away. The mere thought of someone attempting to lay hands on the person he considered to be his most sacred treasure turned his thoughts murderous. He shook himself back to reality.  

He carefully wrapped his towel around his waist, strands of silver still dripping down the frame of his face as he mindlessly stepped into his kitchen to pour himself a glass of golden stress-relief. He grabbed a lowball from the cabinet above him, carefully placing two large cubes of ice in the glass before pouring a double of usquebaugh over them. Minho felt a comforting warmth spread across his chest as he swallowed the first sip of his drink. Smooth notes of white chocolate and roasted coffee beans lingering on his palate. The sound of faint knocking brought him back to reality. 

The door to his apartment opened with a soft click, revealing a half naked Minho to…her, whiskey glass in hand. Her cheeks turning rose at the unexpected state of him. Droplets of crystal left wet trails from the nape of his neck down to his protruding abs, his honey skin prickling at the cold outside his loft. His face, just as surprised as hers. 

They stood frozen, taking in each other’s form for a minute before she finally broke out of her trance. 

“I've been trying to reach you.” she spoke softly, voice low as if trying to not scare him away. 

“I've been busy.” he deadpanned.

A lie. They both knew it. Minho looked at the drink in his hands, her eyes following his gaze as he swirled the liquid in his glass. 

“Look at me, Minho.” 

He shut his eyes, forehead wrinkling with annoyance. He wished for her to disappear. Her presence was unbearable. He hated when she spoke softly to him, hated the way it comforted him. Hated how much it made him want to lean on her, depend on her. He wouldn't. He couldn't. He swore he would never depend on another again. Not after the pain he had been through. 

His life had been a series of burned bridges and betrayals, making him promise himself to never venture into something deeper than the physical connection of two bodies. But she was different. She saw him. She gave him the hope he thought he had given up on years ago. 

“I said, look at me.” 

Her voice was firm. Caring. He could hear the sound of his heartbeat in his ears getting louder. If he did not close the door now, he would not be able to resist her. Her voice was starting to draw him in, he could feel it. Desire slowly started to cloud his senses. His entire body screamed for him to kiss her, hold her close, and steal her away from the world. He wouldn't. He couldn’t.

“Go home, gorgeous. Let’s talk another time.” 

It took everything he had to reject her, to send her back from whence she came. But he was running out of time, and he had to make her leave while he still had some semblance of control over himself. 

With determined eyes, she took a step closer. This prompted Minho to let go of the door as he stumbled to keep the distance between them. The door shut closely behind her as soon as she set foot into his apartment. 

“I know why you’ve been hiding from me” she finally spoke. 

“I haven’t been hiding from you. I’ve been-”

“Busy? Yeah, you keep saying that and yet you always read my texts as soon as I send them, but never reply to me.” 

Minho stared in amazement, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to figure out how she had known. All those nights he had spent reading her messages, fighting his inner demons to not respond when she called out for him. 

“How the hell would you know?”

She let out a deep, exasperated sigh, and pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to calm herself.  

“You have your message read receipts on, babe…” 

Minho stared at her dumbfounded. Amazed that even he could stoop to such a high level of pure stupidity. He managed to pull himself together, trying his best to sound unbothered. “So? I’m not allowed to read the texts of the girl I’m fucking now?” he said, trying to sound nonchalant while a smirk began to creep up the corner of his mouth. 

“Not if you’re not going to have the decency to answer her back.” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Her tone was decisive, almost intimidating. He knew better than to fight her head-on. It always ended with him on his knees anyway, so instead he opted for the only out he could think of. Minho scoffed and downed the last of his drink before turning to top it up. 

He walked straight to the kitchen counter and the uncorked bottle, immediately grabbing it to pour himself another drink. He made sure to take a swig straight from the bottle to summon some strength while he was at it. He had been down this road before. Once she stepped foot inside his flat, he would not be able to resist her. He needed the extra liquid courage. Maybe he could drink himself into a blackout before she came too close again. 

“Minho…” she said as she leaned against the kitchen door, concern apparent in her tone. Her feign affection prodigious. He could not stand another second of her suffocating questioning.

He turned around to face the sink. Too afraid to say something he would regret, instead opting for another sip of the liquid in his hands. 

He stopped dead in his tracks as he felt arms enveloping him, the warmth of her cheek against his back. The force of that nagging familiar feeling made itself known once again. His chest tightened. His heart rate elevated as the grip on the glass in his hands loosened at the flowery scent of her perfume. She held him tight. 

“Is it really that hard to just say it?” 

“Say what?” Minho felt his patience wearing thin. 

“Fine… I’ll say it then you emotionally constipated dork.” 

She let out a hushed sigh, hands freeing Minho of her hold. He turned to look at her, something akin to childish bitterness lacing his features. His eyes softened upon meeting her gaze. She took his hands in hers, rubbing slow, calming circles onto his skin as she spoke. 

“Minho… It’s okay for you to love me.” 

Time stopped. Minho could have sworn he was hallucinating. 

“What?”

“It’s okay for you to love me. You really think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me?”

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m saying I love you too, Minho. I’ve just been waiting for you to realize it yourself.” 

“I don-” 

She put her finger to his lips, effectively shutting him up before his brain could even register the motion. Minho snapped. Unadulterated lust overpowering his senses as he let himself feel the depth of his emotions for the first time in years. He tightly wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body flush to his. He wanted her. Needed her. Wanted to make up for the time they had lost while not talking. 

His lips crashed onto hers, his hand sliding its way up the back of her head grabbing the roots of her hair. He forced her head back, deepening the kiss, while the other hand kept the tight grip around her waist. Using the weight of his body, he pushed her to the bedroom. Not once letting her break the kiss. 

He pressed a hand to her chest, pushing her onto the bed, his body followed closely behind hers. A surprised gasp left her lips as he trapped her with his frame. He scanned the features of her face, looking for any potential sign of hesitancy. She reached her hand up to his face, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. 

“I want this, Minho. I want you.” 

She held his face in her hands as she spoke, pulling him into a reassuring kiss. His hand traveled down her body, her skin left burning in the wake of his touch. She pressed herself up against him as he grabbed the back of her thigh, wrapping her leg around him. He needed her closer. Wanted for them to melt into each other so that nothing would ever separate them again. His hand slid up her back. She arched into him as he unbuckled her bra with the flick of his fingers. 

He pressed his thigh against her. Her core throbbing at the friction he created. His lips teased her neck, gently kissing his way down to her chest. He stiffened her nipple with his wet tongue, drawing circles around it. He teasingly bit it as he let his hand fall between them.

Her hands intertwined with his hair as Minho palmed her, adding that delicious pressure to her clit once more before helping her out of her jeans. Using his digits, he teased her wet folds, gently prodding her entrance. 

“M-Minho…” she moaned, as her temperature rose. 

He lifted his gaze to meet her eyes. Those big, pleading eyes that drove him absolutely fucking insane with desire. He knew what she wanted of him, what she needed. But it didn't matter. He wanted her to say it, wanted her to beg for it. After all, she always was the prettiest when she whined for more. 

“Come on, use your big girl words. Tell me what you need, gorgeous.” 

“I w-want you inside.” she confessed, cheeks flushing at his careful devotion.

“Oh? Lost our manners, have we?” 

His voice dropped a couple of notes, the mocking in his tone apparent as he spoke. 

“I'm sorry. P-please, make me feel good. I want you to t-tease my g-spot with your fingers.” 

Each carefully planned roll of his digits through her folds made her shiver. Her need to feel him inside her, growing with each stroke. She could feel her body burning. 

“Good girl.” he said with that familiar smirk plastered on his face, a subtle scoff escaping as he spoke. 

He kissed her passionately while letting his fingers penetrate her wet heat. He let out a moan as her velvety walls contracted around him. He found her sweet spot almost instantly. He knew her body well after all. 

“F-fuck!” she gasped breathlessly as he began to put pressure on the velvety spot inside her. The long, aggravatingly slow strokes to her sensitive area, clouding her mind. 

She rocked her hips to his rhythm, chasing her high. He propped himself up on his elbow, leaving her lips with the feeling of emptiness. 

“How much?” he asked. 

Presumably a somewhat weird question, had it not been asked between the two of them. She knew exactly what he meant. He was gauging her tolerance, seeing how far he could push without breaking her. She loved that about him. The way he made sure to communicate with her, check in on her even during the most sinful of moments. 

“Easy.”

He gave a slight nod as he removed himself from her, leaving her soaked core feeling empty and needy. He slid down to her middle, carefully placing his head between her voluptuous thighs. He blew gently on her exposed clit, sending shivers down her spine. 

“You tease me too much, babe.” she said, her voice breathless and shaky. 

“Don't act like you don't love it. You know just as well as I do my pretty slut absolutely loves getting her pretty little clit teased.” 

She moaned. His words, the mixture of degradation and praise, made her clench around nothing. He closed his lips around her sensitive knob. Her hands gripped at the roots of his hair as he swirled his tongue against her. She felt that familiar knot forming in her stomach, threatening to become undone for him at any moment. 

Her muscles tightened as he picked up his speed, soft kitten licks pushing her closer and closer to the edge. He put his arms around her waist, holding her firmly in place, preventing her from escaping the pleasure. 

“F-fuck, Minho! I'm gonna-”

“No, you're not.”

He sat back up, watching as her high slowly faded. 

“W-why?” She stammered, frustrated; her legs still left trembling with excitement.  

“Manners, remember?” 

She whined. The torment, a delicious mix of sweet and sour. 

“You're so fucking mean.”

He helped her to her hands and knees, a satisfied smirk mantled to his lips as he let a firm hand push her head into the fluffy pillow. She arched her back for him, giving him full access to her once more. 

“I know, gorgeous. I’m sorry.” he said, tone cold and condescending as he pushed his length inside her. 

He set a steady pace, his hand sneaking down to rub teasing circles onto her clit, his length hitting that blissful spot inside her. He pulled her up, body pressed flush against him, his hand grabbing her neck. He squeezed her throat firmly, adding just enough pressure to release that lofty sensation that made her legs weak. His hips picked up speed as he let his teeth sink into the nape of her neck, his own orgasm looming. 

“Min-Minho, I'm c-close.” she managed, between heavy breaths.

“Not yet. I want to see that pretty face of yours when you cum.” 

He turned her around to lay down on her back. Guiding her legs onto his shoulders, he snapped his hips repeatedly, the new angle allowing him deeper inside her. His silver strands damp and messy above her, his muscles tightening with each thrust. 

“Holy fuck-” 

“Look at me gorgeous.” he said, voice sharp. 

She struggled to hold his gaze. The waves of pleasure his devotion sent clouded her mind, making it barely possible for her to speak. 

“P-please. Can I cum?” she said, her eyes tearfully pleading with him. 

Her begging almost made him cum on the spot. He could feel his dick throb at the sounds of her pleas, unable to hold himself back any further. 

“Fuck! Cum for me, gorgeous.”

He didn't have to tell her twice. Her core tightened. Pure ecstasy coursed through every one of her nerve endings, as her nails dug into his biceps in an effort to keep herself grounded. 

Minho’s own orgasm hit him harder than the pavement after five whiskey sours. He worked them through their highs, pumping himself into her, milking himself of every last drop. 

She sighed, seemingly satisfied as his body fell, exhausted to lay on top of her. She soothingly dragged her nails over the skin on his arms and back as he rested his face in the crook of her neck. He breathed in her scent as they laid in the post orgasmic bliss for what seemed to be an eternity. 

“I missed you.” she finally spoke. 

His eyes snapped open. He could feel the embarrassment hitting him as the memory of his avoidance hit him. Not that he'd ever admit as much. He squeezed her tight before getting up. 

“Why don't you take a shower while I make some food.” 

He grabbed the new set of clothes he had put out earlier before stepping outside to make his way to the kitchen, making sure to kiss her cheek on his way out. She giggled as she followed him with her eyes. 

“He’s such a fucking tsundere.” she thought to herself, amused. 

***

He felt his t-shirt dampen from her freshly washed hair as she embraced him from behind. The scent of his body wash on her, providing a satisfactory feeling in his chest. Her arms wrapped tightly around his abdomen as he stirred the eggs in the pan in front of him. He put his hand on hers, stroking her thumb lovingly with his own. 

“You want to stay the night?” he asked, tone soft. 

“I could stay for life.” 

He turned around to look at her, ears red, heart pounding in his chest. She looked at him, her bright smile almost as pretty as her eyes. Minho felt the warmth from his ears spread to his cheeks. Before she could notice, he turned his attention back to the stove, making himself look busy by over-stirring the eggs. 

“Stupid goddess…” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper. 

She giggled before she threw her arms around him again. 

“You love me~” she teased.

“Yeah… I do.” 

***

Thank you so much for reading my fic. Please let me know if you enjoyed it by reblogging and liking my post. Any feedback is greatly appreciated!

Stay dark my friends.

[50calmadeuce]

EOL - Chapter 6

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know.

The next morning, you were up early, showered, and dressed for the clinic. As you walked downstairs and into the kitchen, your mom glanced over from where she stood at the stove.

"Y/N?" she asked, watching you curiously.

"Where are the solo cups?" you asked, heading straight for the sink.

"Over in the pantry," she said, pointing in the direction.

You walked over, grabbed a cup, and filled it with water.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

You took a sip before answering. "The single bunkhouse will need new bedding," you replied simply, then turned and headed out the back door toward the barn.

As you stormed outside, the weight of Jake's bar tirade churned inside you, each passing thought fueling your anger. The more you replayed it, the more furious you became. You still couldn't believe he had the audacity to do what he did.

Reaching the barn where the single bunkhouse stood, you steeled yourself, pushing the door open in silence.

Jake lay sprawled on his back, still dead asleep. Without hesitation, you took the cup of water and flung it straight at his face.

He jolted awake with a sharp inhale. "What the fuck?!" he sputtered, groaning as his hand shot up to his face—right where your brother's fist had landed. "Damn. Why do I hurt?" His bleary eyes finally landed on you. "Y/N?"

You tossed the cup across the room and then stood over him, arms crossed, your jaw tight. "Yeah, it's me," you said, your tone sharp. "And you hurt because Cole knocked you out last night after you ran your damn mouth. What the fuck, Jake?"

Jake groaned, rubbing his jaw as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. His head throbbed, and the sharp sting on his face only made things worse. "Shit," he muttered, blinking rapidly to clear the fog from his brain. "Cole hit me?"

You let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Yeah, Jake. He did. And I can't say I blame him." Your arms stayed firmly crossed as you glared down at him. "You embarrassed me. You embarrassed yourself. What the hell were you thinking?"

Jake sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet hitting the wooden floor with a dull thud. "I was thinking about how my mother even knew about our baby and I didn't," he admitted, rubbing his temples.

Your jaw tightened, your nails digging into your arms where they were crossed over your chest. "And getting drunk and running your mouth at a bar was your solution to that?"

Jake let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face. "I wasn’t thinking, alright? I was angry. Hurt. And yeah, maybe I handled it like an idiot."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Maybe?"

His eyes snapped up to yours, frustration flaring in them. "Damn it, Y/N. Do you have any idea what it felt like to hear that from my mom that even she knew? To find out that I could've had a child that I never even got the chance to know?" His voice was rough, edged with something raw and unfiltered. "I would've come back. I would've been there. But you never gave me the choice."

Your throat tightened, but you refused to let the emotion break through. "It was only two months, Jake and then I lost the baby. What was I supposed to do, Jake? Send a letter? Call up the Academy and tell them you had a baby on the way? Have you come home and then ruin your dreams because I lost the baby two months later? You left! You were building your future, and I—" You sucked in a sharp breath, forcing yourself to steady. "I made the choice that I thought was best at the time."

Jake shook his head, his jaw clenching. "You didn’t even give me the chance to decide what was best for me."

Silence stretched between you, thick with all the words left unsaid, all the wounds that had festered over time.

Finally, you exhaled, the weight of it all pressing down on you. "You know what, you're right, Jake. I didn't give you that chance because, like I said, I thought I was making the right choice for you. Instead of becoming one of the best Naval Aviators, you could’ve stayed home, become a rancher, and had a wife and child."

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before continuing. "I can’t change the past, Jake. Neither can you. But you sure as hell can stop making things worse in the present."

Jake ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening as he let out a sharp breath. "Damn it, Y/N," he muttered, his voice rough. "You think I would've regretted staying? You think any of that would've mattered more than you—than our child?"

Your chest ached at the raw emotion in his voice, but you shook your head. "I honestly don't know, Jake."

Jake’s expression twisted, as if your words had physically struck him. His hands curled into fists at his sides before he forced them to relax. "You don’t know?" he echoed, disbelief thick in his voice. "Y/N, I would've done anything for you. I still would," he said, his tone raw as he pushed himself to his feet and started toward you.

You swallowed hard against the lump forming in your throat, your pulse quickening with every step he took closer.

Your instinct was to step back, to put space between you, but your feet remained planted, rooted to the ground as Jake closed the distance. His presence was overwhelming, a mix of anger, hurt, and something deeper—something you weren’t sure you were ready to face.

"You think I left because I didn't care?" he continued, his voice rough, barely more than a growl. "You think I wouldn’t have given up everything to stay?" His green eyes burned into yours, searching for something—maybe understanding, maybe forgiveness.

Your breath caught in your throat. "I don’t know what to think, Jake," you admitted, your voice quiet but steady. "All I know is that I was scared. Scared of holding you back, scared of what it would mean if you stayed. I thought I was making the best choice for both of us."

Jake let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "You didn’t give me a damn choice, Y/N. That’s what kills me the most. You decided for both of us—without even asking what I wanted."

The weight of his words settled deep in your chest, guilt gnawing at you. "I know," you whispered. "And I’m sorry, Jake. I really am."

His expression softened just a fraction, but the storm in his eyes remained. His voice was quiet, almost hesitant. "Are you?" he asked.

The question hit you like a slap to the face—not because it was unfair, but because you weren’t sure how to answer it.

"Yes," you said, barely above a whisper. "I’m sorry for everything. For not telling you, for shutting you out, for thinking I was doing the right thing when maybe I wasn’t."

Jake studied you for a long moment, his green eyes searching yours, looking for something—proof, honesty, regret. Whatever he saw made his expression shift, the tension in his shoulders easing, if only slightly.

He exhaled, shaking his head. "You don’t get it, do you?"

Your brows knitted together. "Get what?"

"You still think I would’ve regretted staying," he murmured. "That I would’ve looked at you and our baby and thought, ‘Damn, I should’ve been somewhere else.’ But that’s not who I am, Y/N. You were my future just as much as flying is. I would’ve fought for both."

Your throat tightened. "I didn’t want you to have to fight, Jake."

"But I wanted to," he said, stepping closer. "I still do."

The air between you was thick with emotion, years of hurt and longing converging in this single moment. You wanted to believe him—God, you wanted to—but the fear was still there, lingering beneath the surface.

Jake’s voice softened. "Tell me you don’t feel anything anymore, and I’ll walk away. But if there’s even a chance—just one chance—you want this too, then let me prove it to you."

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. This was it. The moment you had been avoiding, the choice you had been too afraid to make.

And yet, standing here, staring into the eyes of the only man who had ever truly had your heart, you realized maybe—just maybe—you weren’t ready to let him go.

"Say it, Y/N," he pushed, his voice firm yet edged with something almost desperate.

Your breath shuddered as you stared at him, at the raw vulnerability etched into his face. He was giving you an out—one last chance to turn away before you crossed a line you could never uncross.

But did you even want to?

"I—" The word caught in your throat.

Jake’s jaw tensed, his hands balling into fists at his sides as if bracing himself for a blow. "Say it," he repeated, softer this time. "Tell me there’s nothing left. Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll go."

You wanted to. You wanted to tell him to walk away, to make things easier, to stop dredging up the past that had already cost you both so much. But you couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t true.

"I can’t," you whispered.

His breath hitched, and in an instant, he closed the distance between you, his hands coming up to cradle your face. His touch was warm, grounding, like a lifeline pulling you back from the edge.

"You can’t what?" he murmured, his thumbs tracing gentle circles against your skin.

You swallowed hard. "I can’t tell you I don’t feel anything."

A slow, almost disbelieving smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Then don’t," he murmured before his mouth was on yours.

And just like that, the dam broke.

Jake kissed you like he was making up for lost time, like he was trying to rewrite the past with the press of his lips against yours. It wasn’t just desperate—it was deep, consuming, full of everything left unsaid between you.

You melted into him before you could think better of it, your fingers tightening in your hands as he tilted your face up, deepening the kiss. His body pressed against yours, solid and familiar, stirring memories you had tried so hard to bury.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your forehead rested against his. His chest rose and fell heavily, his hands still cradling your face like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

"Tell me this means something," he whispered. "Tell me I’m not the only one who still—" He swallowed hard, his voice breaking.

You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly. "You’re not," you admitted. "You never were."

Jake let out a shuddering breath, relief flashing across his face before he pulled you into him again, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

His arms tightened around you, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek as you rested against his chest. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, caught in the gravity of everything unsaid.

Finally, you pulled back just enough to look up at him. "This doesn’t mean everything is fixed, Jake," you murmured, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. "There’s still a lot we need to figure out."

He nodded, his green eyes searching yours. "I know," he said, his voice quiet but resolute. "I don’t expect this to be easy. I just need to know I’m not in this alone."

You suddenly realized that Jake had slowly backed you up against the wall close to the door, his presence overwhelming, his body close enough to steal the air from your lungs. Your hand instinctively reached for the doorknob, fingers fumbling against the cool metal.

"You’re not," you assured him, your voice steady despite the rapid beat of your heart. "But, Jake, we can't just jump back into this like nothing happened."

Jake’s eyes darkened, his gaze locked onto yours as he braced his hands on either side of you, caging you in. “I know,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “But don’t pretend like you don’t feel this too.”

Your fingers curled around the doorknob, but you made no move to turn it. The heat between you was impossible to ignore, the years of longing, of regret, crackling like a live wire in the narrow space between your bodies.

“I never said I didn’t,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “But we have to be smart about this, Jake. We can’t just—”

His arm rested against the wall behind you as his lips ghosted over yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. “We can’t just what?” he challenged, his green eyes searching yours.

You swallowed hard, trying to summon the logical part of your brain, the part that knew diving headfirst into this would only make things more complicated. But then Jake tilted his head, his nose brushing yours in that achingly familiar way, and every argument you had crumbled beneath the weight of what you wanted.

“Damn it, Jake,” you breathed as your fingers finally found the doorknob. In one swift motion, you turned it, pushed the door open, and ducked beneath his arm, slipping out before he could stop you.

Jake turned sharply as you escaped his hold, his jaw clenching as he watched you put distance between the two of you. “That’s not fair, Y/N,” he said, his voice rough with frustration.

You hesitated just outside the door, gripping the frame as you turned back to face him. “None of this is fair,” you countered, meeting his gaze. “But that doesn’t mean we can just forget everything that’s happened.”

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’m not asking you to forget,” he said. “I’m asking you to stop running.”

Your heart twisted at the way he looked at you—so open, so damn sure. “I’m not running,” you said softly. “I just need to think.”

Jake let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “You’ve had six years to think, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched, the truth of his words hitting you square in the chest. “And look where thinking got us,” you murmured before stepping away, leaving him standing there, still reaching for something neither of you knew how to hold onto.

After your encounter with Jake in the stables, you climbed into your truck and headed to the local diner, hoping a good breakfast might help settle your thoughts.

As you stepped inside, the bell above the door gave a soft jingle, announcing your arrival. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for an open seat.

The familiar scent of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air, a comforting reminder of countless mornings spent in this very diner. You spotted an open booth near the window and made your way over, sliding into the seat with a tired sigh.

A moment later, a cheerful voice broke through your swirling thoughts. "Well, if it isn’t Y/N! Been a while since I’ve seen you around here."

You looked up to find Dawn Jean standing beside your table, notepad in hand and a bright smile on her face.

A small smile tugged at your lips. "Hey, Dawn Jean. Yeah, it’s been a minute."

She nodded knowingly. "Long enough that I almost forgot how you take your coffee. Two cream, two sugar, right?"

"You got it," you confirmed.

"And to eat?" she asked, pen poised above the paper.

"Pancakes sound good," you said, setting the menu aside.

"Coming right up!" Dawn Jean chirped before bouncing off toward the kitchen.

You leaned back against the seat, rubbing a hand over your face. The encounter with Jake still lingered in your mind, every word replaying like a song stuck on repeat.

"You look like you’ve seen a ghost," a familiar voice mused.

Glancing up, you found Aubrey Dalton sliding into the seat across from you, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

"Not a ghost," you muttered, picking up your coffee as Dawn Jean set it down. "Just my past."

Aubrey arched a brow. "Ah. So, you wanna talk about Jake and the bar?"

You grimaced. "I forgot how fast small-town gossip spreads," you replied, shaking your head.

Aubrey chuckled, stirring a packet of sugar into her own coffee. "Please. You know damn well you can’t breathe in this town without someone having an opinion about it." She leaned in slightly, her smirk softening into something more curious. "So? What happened?"

You sighed, staring into the dark liquid in your cup like it held all the answers. "It’s complicated," you admitted.

Aubrey scoffed. "Isn’t it always with you two?"

That made you smile despite yourself. "Yeah, I guess it is."

She took a slow sip of her coffee, studying you over the rim of her mug. "Look, I know you and Jake have history. A lot of history. Hell, everybody in this town still thinks the two of you are meant to end up together."

You swallowed hard, running a finger around the rim of your cup. "Yeah, well, maybe they’re wrong."

Aubrey raised an eyebrow, setting her mug down and leaning back in her seat. "Are they, though? Because if the way you two look at each other says anything, it’s that you’re still tangled up in each other. And I don't think that’s something you can walk away from, no matter how hard you try."

You let out a shaky breath, your gaze drifting out the window for a moment. The weight of everything with Jake—the past, the choices, the mistakes—felt heavier than you'd ever allowed yourself to admit. "It's not that hard," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. "As a matter of fact, I have my own date for the rodeo," you added, looking back at her with a determined smile.

"It's that new veterinarian at the clinic, isn't it?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.

Your eyebrows furrowed. "How did...?"

She grinned, triumphantly. "I knew it!"

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "I didn’t think I was that obvious."

"As soon as we found out you were working at the clinic, we knew, but we questioned it when we saw Jake back in town," she replied, leaning back in her chair with a knowing smile.

You sighed, taking a sip of your coffee. "I didn’t want to make it a thing. Just trying to keep things simple, you know?"

Aubrey raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Simple? With you and Jake both back in town, nothing is ever simple. Trust me, I get it, though. I’m not saying you need to pick one or the other, but you can’t avoid it forever."

You shot her a look. "I’m not trying to avoid anything, Aubrey."

She grinned. "You just keep trying to tell yourself that, Y/N," she replied, taking a sip of her coffee with a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Here you go, Y/N," Dawn Jean said placing your food in front of you.

You just shook your head, letting out a soft chuckle, and turned your attention to your breakfast, trying to focus on anything other than the conversation.

Tags: @tylers-twister-gal @smoothdogsgirl @tgmreader @crashingwavesofeuphoria @lunatygerqueen @illisea @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @untitled-document-95 @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @justwaveandsmile @kmc1989 @fantasyfootballchampion @khouse712 @literal-tv-menace @malindacath @jackiehollanderr

[pandacherryblossoms]

𐙚 Brat Tamer - Stray Kids 𐙚

Request

Genre: Smut MDNI 18+

Warnings: NSFW content, Power play, Teasing, Rough handling, Light choking, Possessiveness, Manipulation, edging, Physical restraint, Dom & Sub themes, Oral references, Slight voyeurism

Bang Chan

You’d been pushing him all night.

Eye rolls. Smirking. Ignoring him when he spoke. Sitting in his lap just to get up again with that innocent look he hated. You wanted to get under his skin. You wanted to see what would happen if you didn’t back down.

And now you were about to find out.

He doesn’t say a word when he corners you in the hallway. Just pins you to the wall with his hand tight around your waist, holding you still like you’re his to manhandle. His eyes are dark, jaw tight, but the smirk on his lips is the worst part.

“Oh, now you’re quiet?” he breathes, eyes dragging down your body like he’s undressing you with his stare. “Wasn’t so shy when you were acting like a spoiled little brat, huh?”

You open your mouth, probably to push back with something smart—but he cuts you off with his hand wrapping lightly around your throat. Just pressure. Just enough to remind you who’s in control.

“Keep playing, baby. I’ll make you regret it.” His voice dips lower, dangerous. “You want me to fuck the attitude out of you? ‘Cause I will. Slowly.”

He leans in, lips brushing your jaw, your neck, just barely skimming skin as he breathes, “I’ll make you beg. I’ll ruin you. I’ll make sure the next time you think about mouthing off, your legs go weak just remembering how I left you shaking.”

Your body tenses, back arching the slightest bit to feel more of him—and he laughs. The sound is cruel, quiet, too pleased.

“You want it that bad?” he teases, palm sliding between your thighs, not nearly where you need him. “Poor thing. Already dripping, and I haven’t even touched you properly.”

You shiver. You hate how much he’s in control.

And just when you think he’s going to snap—finally lose it and give you what you’ve been aching for—

He steps back.

Lets go of you like you’re nothing.

His voice is calm when he says, “Next time you want attention, just ask. No need to act like a brat for it.”

And he walks away.

You’re left breathless. Trembling. So close it hurts.

Lee Know

The night had been full of subtle games—your eyes meeting his across the room, the way you purposefully pressed yourself just a little too close whenever you passed by him. You knew exactly what you were doing, but he wasn’t going to let you get away with it. Not anymore.

As you make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your wrist, pulling you back effortlessly. You’re forced to face him, the intensity in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine.

Minho doesn’t need to say anything. The look on his face says it all. You’ve pushed him too far.

“You think I didn’t notice?” he murmurs, his voice like honey—smooth, dangerous. His grip tightens on your wrist, and he pulls you closer until there’s barely any space between you. The heat of his body makes you ache, but it’s the way his eyes stay on yours that makes you freeze. “You’ve been begging for me to take control all night. Don’t think I didn’t notice you testing me.”

His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing across your lips in a way that’s teasing, yet oh-so-slow, making the anticipation build. Your breath catches as you try to respond, but before you can speak, he leans in—just close enough to make you feel the heat of his breath against your neck.

“You want it so badly, don’t you?” Minho whispers, the words coating your skin, sending a thrill that makes your legs almost give way beneath you. “Want me to remind you who’s in charge here?”

Your body betrays you, a desperate little whimper escaping, but Minho is already stepping back, his hands disappearing before you can react. He looks at you—studying you—as though he’s savoring the moment.

You try to move toward him, your body burning with need, but he only chuckles softly.

“You’re not ready yet,” he says with a smirk, his voice low and taunting. “Not until you learn a little more patience.”

He steps back, walking away slowly, leaving you standing there, desperate, frustrated, and aching, with nothing but the feeling of his absence lingering, and the knowledge that you’re far from finished.

Changbin

You’d been pushing all the right buttons—teasing him with those soft glances, the little smirks that always seemed to rile him up. But Changbin was patient—maybe too patient, letting you have your fun. But you’ve gone too far now.

He pulls you into his chest without warning, the sudden force of it leaving you breathless. His hands grip your waist firmly as he holds you in place, his breath coming fast against your ear.

“You think you can just tease me all night and get away with it?” His voice is rough, no trace of the calm you might expect from him. “You’re testing me. And I don’t take kindly to that.”

You don’t have time to react before he pulls you closer, his body pressing against yours in a way that makes your pulse race. There’s no teasing this time—he’s taking control immediately, and you can feel it in every inch of his body.

Changbin’s grip on your hips tightens, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’ve been a brat. Time for you to earn it.”

He leans in close, his lips brushing just above yours, a taunting proximity that makes your breath hitch. But instead of kissing you, he pulls away, his hand trailing down your body, over your thighs, dangerously close to where you want him most. Just as you think he’s going to touch you, he stops.

“You want more?” he growls, voice dark. “You think I’m going to give it to you just because you’re begging?”

Your frustration bubbles over, and your hips move involuntarily toward him, but it only makes him laugh—low, dark, and knowing. He looks down at you with that cocky smirk that makes your heart race.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, babe,” he says, his lips brushing your ear again. “Next time, I’ll decide how far this goes. And trust me, you’ll be begging for more. But not yet.”

With that, he steps back, leaving you breathless, your body aching for what he almost gave you.

Changbin turns, tossing you one last glance before he walks away, leaving you standing there on the edge of frustration, wondering just how much longer you’ll have to wait.

Hyunjin

It started with a subtle glance—his eyes lingering on you a moment too long, like he was already imagining what he could do to you. You hadn’t expected it, but the tension between you two was undeniable. And now, here you were, sitting beside him in a crowded café, trying to keep things cool, but everything about the way he was looking at you said he wasn’t.

You shift slightly, trying to adjust yourself in the seat, but it only makes things worse. Hyunjin’s eyes flick to your thighs, the way your legs crossed, and then slowly, deliberately, he slides his hand under the table. It brushes against your knee, making your breath hitch.

“Stop moving,” he whispers, just loud enough for you to hear, his fingers inching higher along your leg. “You’re making it so hard to concentrate.”

The light touch sends a jolt through you, and you almost forget where you are, but then you remember the people around you. You look up at him, your eyes wide with sudden realization.

Hyunjin’s lips curl into a smirk. “Worried? Don’t be.” His voice drops to a teasing whisper. “If they only knew what I’m planning to do to you later.”

Your pulse races as his fingers continue their slow path up your leg, just brushing the edge of where you can’t hide your excitement. You try to steady yourself, but he’s too good at this, too good at keeping you on the edge of being discovered.

“You’re so desperate, aren’t you?” he teases, leaning in just enough to make sure no one else can hear. “You can barely sit still. But don’t worry. I’ll make you wait. You’re not getting anything tonight unless you’re good.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, your body aching for the release you know won’t come anytime soon. Hyunjin’s hand moves higher, just barely grazing the waistband of your pants before he stops, his fingers lingering for just a second too long before pulling away completely.

“You’re going to be begging by the time we’re alone,” he whispers, his tone still teasing, but there’s that darker edge beneath it. “But for now, keep your cool. I want everyone to see how hard it is for you.”

You glance around nervously, aware of how visible you’ve become, but when you turn back to Hyunjin, he’s already leaning back in his chair, casually sipping his coffee, as if nothing happened.

You’re left trying to calm your racing heart, the tension between you two unbearable, knowing exactly what’s coming next—and it’s going to make you wish you had never been so impatient in the first place.

Han

You couldn’t help it—Jisung was being extra today. The way he kept looking at you from across the room, that playful smirk on his lips, the way his fingers brushed against your arm every time you were close. It was like he was begging you to act out just so he could punish you for it.

You had no idea what had gotten into him, but you were about to find out. He wasn’t going to let you keep teasing him like this—he was ready for payback.

As you walk down the hallway to your shared room, you’re caught off guard when Jisung pulls you into the nearest bathroom, the door slamming shut behind you. Before you can say anything, he’s already pushing you up against the wall, his body close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin.

“What the hell, Han?” you manage to say, but he cuts you off with a single finger pressed to your lips.

“You’ve been acting like a little brat all day,” he growls, his voice low and controlled. “Now it’s my turn.”

His hands move swiftly, gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. You try to struggle, but he’s too strong. His body presses into yours, and you can feel the undeniable hardness against your stomach.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice how you’ve been teasing me?” he murmurs in your ear, his breath hot and making your skin tingle. “Every little touch, every smile, every glance—this is your fault.”

You swallow, your heart pounding as he leans in even closer, lips brushing your ear. “You’re not getting away that easily,” he says, his voice dark and possessive. “I’ve been patient, but now I’m done. I’m going to make you pay for making me wait.”

Before you can even react, his lips are on yours, kissing you with an intensity that takes your breath away. It’s rough and possessive, like he’s claiming you, marking you. But just as you start to get lost in it, he pulls away.

“You wanted this, right?” Jisung teases, his hand sliding down your body, skimming your side before stopping right above where you want him most. His smirk grows as he sees the frustration building in you. “Beg for it. Maybe then I’ll give it to you.”

He steps back slightly, but his hands remain on your body, hovering just where you need them. You’re desperate now, body aching, but Jisung knows exactly how to keep you right on the edge. He leans in again, this time just whispering into your ear, “You’ll wait. And when I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for me to take you harder.”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the desperate groan threatening to escape, but Jisung just smiles, steps back, and leaves you standing there. The tension in the room is thick, your body trembling with the need for release, but he’s already out the door, leaving you to wonder just how much longer you’ll have to wait before he comes back to finish what he started.

Felix

You could feel the tension building the moment you two locked eyes across the room. Felix had always been playful, always teasing, but tonight there was something different about the way he was looking at you. It was like he was sizing you up, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

The group had just finished their practice, everyone else scattered around, but Felix? He stayed close, watching you like a predator eyeing its prey.

You were talking to some of the others when you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. You could practically feel the heat of him before he said anything.

“Miss me already?” Felix’s voice was light, but there was something more dangerous beneath it. His fingers brushed over your shoulder, just a soft touch, but it made your whole body react, a tingle spreading down your spine.

You turn your head, and his smile is sharp, too knowing. “I think you’ve been a little too bold lately, huh?” he says, voice laced with mischief and something darker. “Do you know how much it’s been driving me crazy?”

Before you can even answer, he pulls you to the side, away from the others. The way he handles you is effortless, making you feel like you don’t have any control in the situation, and honestly, you’re starting to like it.

He leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You’ve been teasing me all day, haven’t you? I can feel it—the way you move, the way you look at me. You think I’m just going to let you get away with it?”

Your pulse quickens as you try to speak, but Felix presses his body into yours, effectively silencing you with his presence. “You want to play with fire?” His voice is low now, and his hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer to him until there’s no space left between you.

The way he looks down at you—eyes dark, lips parted slightly—sends a rush of heat through your entire body. “I’m going to make you regret this,” he warns, his hand slipping lower, brushing against your thigh. “But not until I’ve made you beg for it.”

His fingers trace dangerously close to where you need him most, but he doesn’t touch you there. Not yet. He pulls his hand back, letting the moment hang in the air between you like a threat.

“You think you’re in control?” Felix smirks, pulling away slightly to get a better look at you. “Not anymore. I’m going to make you wait. And when I finally give you what you want? It’s going to feel so much better.”

You bite your lip, the frustration building in your chest, but Felix steps back with a teasing grin on his face. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be back. Just don’t make it too easy for me next time.”

With one last glance, he walks away, leaving you standing there, hot and desperate, knowing you’re only getting a small taste of what’s to come.

Seungmin

You knew you were pushing his buttons this morning, teasing him a little too much, getting under his skin on purpose. Every time he told you to stop, you only pushed harder, your playful attitude making him frustrated but in that endearing way—at least, that’s how it started.

By the time the day had gone on, you could tell Seungmin was getting more and more irritable. He tried to keep his cool, but his patience was wearing thin. You didn’t expect him to confront you about it so soon, but you should’ve known better.

Later, when you two were alone in his room, he didn’t give you the chance to speak. He shut the door behind him, his gaze dark as he locked eyes with you.

“You’ve been a little brat today,” Seungmin says, his voice quiet but stern. “You think you can just tease me and get away with it?”

You smirk, playing it off, but he doesn’t smile. Instead, he steps closer, the air between you thick with tension.

“Stop,” he mutters, his tone a warning, but it’s too late. The teasing had gone too far, and now it was his turn.

Before you can react, he grabs your wrist, pulling you toward the bed. His movements are quick, efficient, and you’re not sure if it’s the playful Seungmin you’re used to, or someone else entirely. He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you in between his legs.

“You’re going to learn a lesson, brat,” he murmurs, his grip tightening around your wrist. “You wanted to push me? Fine. I’m going to make you regret it.”

You try to pull away, but Seungmin doesn’t let you. His eyes flash with that familiar mix of frustration and desire as his other hand moves up to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“I told you to stop this morning,” he says, his voice rougher than usual. “But you wouldn’t listen, so now you’re going to get exactly what you deserve.”

His lips are suddenly on yours, rough and demanding, as though he’s been holding back all day. His kiss is hard, controlled, and you feel him pull you closer, his hands roaming over your body, showing you exactly how much he’s been holding back.

“You wanted attention, didn’t you?” he growls between kisses. “Well, now you’ve got it.”

He pulls away just enough to catch his breath, eyes narrowed in a mix of exasperation and hunger. His hands slide to your waist, his fingers digging into your skin.

“You’re going to learn to be good for me,” he says, voice low. “You think I’m going to let you get away with that? You’re wrong.”

Seungmin’s grip tightens as his other hand moves down your body, teasing just the edges of where you need him, but never quite giving you what you want. The teasing makes your body ache for more, and you can’t stop yourself from whining just a little.

“You’ll have to beg for it,” he says, watching you struggle, a smirk forming on his lips. “And maybe, just maybe, I’ll give you what you want.”

But before you can beg, he leans back, giving you one last teasing smile. “But not yet.”

The frustration is unbearable as he lets you stand there, panting, yearning for more, knowing that Seungmin won’t give you the satisfaction until he decides you’ve had enough time to wait.

I.N

You knew exactly how to push Jeongin’s buttons today. The moment you stepped out in that outfit—a little tighter than usual, a little more revealing—he couldn’t take his eyes off you. His gaze followed you all day, his thoughts clearly fighting between keeping his cool and wanting to do more than just watch you walk by.

You kept it up on purpose, knowing it was getting to him, knowing the effect it had. You’d always had this power over him, and today, you were going to have some fun with it.

When you finally find yourself alone with him in his room, you notice his usual smile is gone. Instead, there’s a look of pure frustration on his face, something dark brewing behind his usually sweet expression.

“You’ve been acting like this all day,” Jeongin starts, voice tight. His eyes rake over your outfit one more time, making it clear that he’s had enough. “I can’t concentrate with you wearing this.”

You smirk, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What do you mean? You’ve been looking at me like this all day, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”

Jeongin takes a step forward, his hands balling into fists at his sides, trying to keep control. “Enjoy it? I’m about to lose my mind, and you think I enjoy being driven crazy by you?”

He steps closer, his breath warm on your face as he looks down at you. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you put this on, didn’t you? You’ve been walking around, flaunting yourself, and I’ve been doing everything in my power to keep my hands off you.”

His voice drops lower, more dangerous now. “But I can’t keep holding back anymore.”

Before you can even react, his hands are on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the way his chest rises and falls with the effort of keeping control. He leans in, lips brushing your ear as he speaks, his voice rougher than usual.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my distance from you all day?” he growls, his hand slipping just below the hem of your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin. “You’ve been flaunting yourself, and I’ve been trying to be good. But you don’t make it easy, do you?”

You feel him press even closer, his body caging you in. “You’ve got no idea how badly I want you right now,” he whispers, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a searing trail behind them. “But I’m not going to make it that easy for you.”

You’re about to speak, but Jeongin pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes. There’s a teasing smirk on his face, and his eyes are filled with something you can’t quite name—desire, frustration, something in between.

“You think I’m going to just give in, don’t you?” he says, voice thick with anticipation. “You’ve been so bratty today, wearing this outfit like you’re begging for me to lose control. But I’m not going to give you what you want so easily.”

He steps back, his hands leaving your body but still lingering just above you, like a silent promise of what’s to come. “You’re going to have to wait for me, just a little longer. I’ll make you regret this, but not yet.”

With one final look, he walks away, leaving you standing there, breathless, craving more, knowing it’s only a matter of time before he comes back to finish what he started.

[the5thorgy]

Itadori x reader but the reader struggles to say no to people and is a major people pleaser? Like they can say no for other people and advocate harshly for other people's rights but when it comes to their own it's almost like they're a pushover? Idk it's just smth that came to my mind bc I saw y'all were asking for asks lol!

learn to say no.

a/n: ty for the request bae 🥹 no cw

It had been a long week for you at Jujutsu High. Between missions, training, and the endless requests from classmates, you felt like you had nothing left to give.

Still, you couldn't help but say yes every time someone asked for something, even when you were completely drained. It was just who you were. You couldn’t help but want to make everyone happy, even if it meant ignoring your own needs.

You sat at a table in the common room, absentmindedly stirring a cup of tea as you tried to focus on the pages of a book, but your thoughts kept wandering. Your phone buzzed on the table, pulling you out of your mind. It was a message from Maki:

“Hey, can you cover my training session tomorrow? I have something to do. Thanks!”

You sighed, already knowing you’d say yes. You didn't want to disappoint her—Maki was your friend, after all. But the thought of adding one more thing to your already packed schedule made your shoulders tighten.

Before you could reply, you heard a voice call your name. "Yo, YN!”

You looked up to find Yuji standing in front of you, his usual grin on his face. He waved energetically.

"Hey, Yuji," you greeted, trying to put on a smile. "What’s up?"

"Not much. Just wondering if you wanted to hang out for a bit," he said, taking a seat across from you. "You’ve been looking a little tense lately. Everything okay?"

You forced your smile to stay in place. "Yeah, just a little busy, you know? I’ve been helping a lot of people lately, and it’s kind of catching up to me."

Yuji tilted his head, his brow furrowing. "Helping people is great and all, but... it looks like you're running yourself into the ground."

You felt a lump form in your throat. He’d noticed. Of course, Yuji would notice. He was observant like that, always aware of how others were feeling. And you? You had a hard time saying no, even when you needed to.

"Yeah, I guess I’ve been doing a lot," you admitted, taking a sip of your tea to hide the nervousness in your voice. "But it’s okay. People need me. I can handle it."

Yuji's smile faltered a little, his gaze softening. "You know, it’s okay to say no sometimes, right?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You could feel your face flush, a familiar wave of guilt washing over you. "I don’t know… I just feel bad when I do. Like if I say no, they’ll think I’m selfish or something."

Yuji sighed, leaning back in his chair as if he had been expecting this. "You’re not selfish, [Y/N]. You’re one of the most selfless people I know. But you don’t have to say yes to everything just to be a good person. You deserve to take care of yourself too."

You bit your lip, trying to keep the emotions at bay. Why was this so hard for you? You were always the one who advocated for others, always the one to stand up for people who couldn’t stand up for themselves. But when it came to you, it was like you couldn't find the strength to put yourself first.

"I know," you muttered. "It’s just… whenever someone asks for help, I don’t know how to say no. It feels like they’ll be disappointed in me."

Yuji leaned forward, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of concern and determination. "You can’t please everyone, [Y/N]. You’re only human. If you keep saying yes to everyone else and never take care of yourself, eventually you’re going to burn out. And I don’t want to see that happen to you."

You swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to surface. Yuji’s words felt like a weight lifting off your chest, but it also felt like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been bottling up until now. You had been running on empty, doing everything for everyone else and leaving nothing for yourself.

"I don’t want to disappoint anyone," you said quietly, your voice cracking slightly. "But I feel like if I don’t help, then they won’t like me anymore."

Yuji shook his head, his expression softening even more. "The people who really care about you won’t care if you say no. They’ll understand. And if someone’s mad because you can’t help them, well... maybe they weren’t the kind of person you should’ve been helping in the first place."

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. For the first time, you realized that you had been living in fear of disappointing people, even at the cost of your own happiness.

It wasn’t just that you were a people pleaser—it was that you didn’t know how to set boundaries, how to say no without feeling like you were letting someone down.

"But how do I start?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "How do I learn to say no when I’ve been saying yes my whole life?"

Yuji gave you a small, reassuring smile. "It’s not easy, but it starts with realizing that you matter too. It’s okay to say no for your own well-being. You don’t need permission from anyone to take care of yourself. And if you ever feel unsure, just remember that I’ve got your back."

You blinked in surprise at his words. He had always been there for you, but hearing him say it like this made your chest tighten in the best possible way. Maybe, just maybe, you could start letting go of the guilt and start putting yourself first for once.

"I’ll try," you said, a little more confidently. "I’ll try to say no when I need to."

Yuji grinned widely, his energy lifting the mood instantly. "That’s the spirit! And if anyone gives you trouble, just send them my way. I’ll help you stand your ground."

You laughed softly, the weight on your chest feeling a little lighter. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as hard as you thought, not with Yuji by your side. He made everything seem possible, even something as difficult as learning to say no.

For the first time in a long while, you felt like it was okay to take a step back, to put your needs above the constant pressure of pleasing everyone around you. And as you spent the rest of the evening with Yuji, talking and laughing, you realized that you didn’t have to do everything on your own.

Saying no was hard, but maybe it was time to start saying yes to yourself.

all rights reserved © the5thorgy. do not copy, translate, or steal any of the works you find on this blog! ฅ ฅ

[mikkomacko]

https://www.tumblr.com/mikkomacko/781824682866409472/lukes-girl-def-has-a-crush-on-nico-but-shes-so

does nico and reader ever find out? does luke ever ask her abt it?

Luke is not bold enough to ask but he does start paying attention and he for sure notices that she gets a little weird around Nico. Like she won’t look at him at all when he’s nearby but if he’s across the room or something, she’ll glance at him for a little too long.

He can’t outright ask her if she has a crush so he’ll probably just be like, “Are you ok with Nico and y/n? Like hanging out with them?”

“Yeah of course I love them!” She insists, “I just, I don’t know. Nico is kinda weird. Like has he ever smiled?”

Which isn’t exactly her admitting anything. It just means she’s noticed.

“Uh yeah,” Luke hesitates, “he does a lot when he’s just talking to y/n. Do you think he’s weird.”

She gives him a nervous look. “Kinda. I don’t know when I first met him it just felt like he was going to interrogate me or something.”

“Oh he’s just like that,” Luke promises, and then because he can’t stand not knowing, he keeps digging. “Nico notices everything. That’s why his face looks like that. He sees it all but he doesn’t want you to know he sees it all, he just wants you to think that. Even though he does.”

“He notices everything?”

“Yup,” Luke confirms, “everything. And if for some reason he missed something, y/n notices it. I think she can read minds, not gonna lie.”

Her face visibly pales. “Luke I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

She takes a deep breath. “Ok please don’t be weird about it but I think Nico is really cute but he scares me a lot and I don’t know how y/n handles that but it drives me crazy!”

Luke is sort of grateful Johnny told him, that way he’s had time to sit with it, doesn’t freak out now that he’s actually hearing it. Because he really likes her, doesn’t want to mess it up being insecure.

“I think she actually likes that he’s scary,” he simply says, “those two are freaks. It’s probably a turn on for her.”

He side eyes her, “And I guess you too.”

“Oh my god,” she groans, face red. “Please don’t tell him, it’s stupid. It’s like you having a crush on Anne Hathaway.”

Which Luke doesn’t think is true because Anne is way out of his league (and area) but he doesn’t care that much.

He does care though that his girlfriend is too nervous to actually be around Nico so he does the unthinkable. He tells you and Nico.

Nico’s hold body goes rigid, nose scrunching up in displeasure.

“Aw that’s so cute!” You coo, cupping Nico’s face in your hands. “That’s why she’s so quiet with you.”

“She’s also scared of you,” Luke says and that makes Nico relax, lips pursing for a moment and he shrugs.

“Good,” he mutters, “then she’ll leave me alone.”

“Nico!” You gasp, “don’t be mean! It’s just a crush.”

He frowns. “I don’t like it. Only you and Johnny are allowed to have a crush on me and even Johnny I’m iffy about.”

“So you don’t know about Jack’s crush on you then?”

Nico’s eyes snap to his. “What?”

Luke freezes. “Nothing. Anyway, could you just be nice to her? A little bit at least. Or at least friendly? She doesn’t know how to act around you.”

Nico narrows his eyes. “Don’t worry Luke, M’not gonna steal your little girlfriend.”

“Don’t scare her away either.”

Nico looks at you and then shrugs, noncommittal. “We’ll see.”

[ikuzeminna]

I need your help with a hypothesis!

For context: My linguistics professor and I got into a discussion after a test she did with us, and I was of the opinion that the reason for the results was different from the one she offered, so she encouraged me to test my theory.

What I need

All you need to do is draw a coffee cup (with a handle, not the disposable stuff) and then answer three questions.

I don't need to see the coffee cup. You can draw it wherever you like; on a piece of paper, digitally, in the sand, on a foggy window. Anything works. It does not have to be good. A doodle is fine.

You have to draw the coffee cup before you see the questions. This is very important. If you decide to help me with this, please doodle the coffee cup before you keep reading.

Assuming you have drawn the coffee cup, I now need you to answer these three questions:

On which side did you draw the handle?

Are you right-handed or left-handed?

Do you primarily write using the Latin alphabet or a different one? (please specify which)

More context

Most people will draw the handle on the right side. My professor says it's because most people are right-handed, so they draw the handle in the direction that would be comfortable for them to pick up.

I said drawing it on the right side just felt more comfortable to my hand and argued it's probably because we write a bunch of letters like that. B, b, D, P, p, R all look like a tiny "handle on the right side" and are all a straight line followed by a round one (so "cup first, handle second," like most people draw cups). The Latin alphabet doesn't have letters like that that face the other way, except maybe d, depending on how you write it, so it makes sense to me that people writing mostly Latin letters would go with the handle on the right side.

Which means that I need to know what Asians, Arabs and Greeks do and if the distribution of left and right sides of handles differs from the Latin alphabet group. Cyrillic seems to favor right, too, though it'd be interesting to see if there are differences.

If there are, my theory is right. Doubly so if there is a sizeable increase in a group whose alphabet has letters that benefit the left side choice.

So feel free to spread this to as many people as you like and put the answers in the comments or the tags of a reblog. The more answers I get, the better I can assess whose theory is better.

Thank you for your help!

[araneitela]

WHICH SYMBOLIC FRUIT ARE YOU?

Cherry. (Man, this is going to need some tag rambling; because while it's what I suspected and it's very fitting in many ways, I need to address one element).

In popular culture, cherries have come to represent sensuality, sex, and seduction. In the cult classic, Twin Peaks, Audrey Horne expresses her sexual expertise by tying a cherry stem with her tongue. "Cherry" is also used to refer to the concept of virginity: why? I don't know to be honest, but here we are. Much like the cherry, you're a sensual person who enjoys all the creature comforts the world offers. You enjoy delicious food, dynamic relationships, passionate lovemaking and stimulating conversation; however, you may also come across a touch vapid or shallow, due to your quickly fading attention when something has served its usefulness to you. To quote some man on tinder: "you're here for a good time, not a long time". You can come across, at times, slightly tart, carrying a bit of a bite to you that not everyone can handle. That’s okay: you’re an acquired taste!

Tagged: @basbousah (Thank you 🩷) Tagging: I don't tend to tag for quizzes easily but this one was actually fun, so let's harass. @immobiliter (how about Furina?) @kushtibokt @genus83 @genius81 @spiderwarden @delusionaid (Wriothesley, or Zhongli— porque no los dos? 🤭) @apocryphis (Topaz) @aventvrina @resolutepath (Elio) @daybreakrising (Blade) @astrxlfinale @kahakera @cygnor @chasersglow @scrtilegii (Jing Yuan)... and anyone else who'd like to do it, say I tagged you because I'd love to see the results!

[partygatorresurrection]

“berretini comes to life!” then kill him?? thanasi??? athanasios??? please????

[maryse127]

I am so nervous about packing tomorrow. I bought so much shit and now I have to somehow fit all of it in my suitcases and bagpacks. In compliance with airline rules which is scary when you dont have a scale :)

[kavehayati]

PLEASE ?! WHAT THE HECK WAS WORK 😭 /pos

[kbwrites]

Heated Waters

synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.

⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it

⚝ wc: 1.9k

“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”

Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”

Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Twice a week, I suppose…”

Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.

“What about you, Higuruma?”

“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.

Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.

“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”

But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.

It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.

But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.

“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.

“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”

Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”

“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”

Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.

Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”

“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.

“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.

“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”

Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”

Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.

“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”

“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”

Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.

“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.

Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.

You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?

You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.

“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.

“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.

Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.

Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.

His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”

“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.

Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.

“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.

“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.

He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.

“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.

“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”

He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.

He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.

You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.

“g-gonna cum!”

“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.

“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.

You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.

You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.

“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.

Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.

His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.

Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.

He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”

[salemwasnteverhere]

How Sylus fucks you when he overstimulates you

A/N: I couldn't resist turning a cold mean man into a slight softie for us :'). If you prefer colder/meaner Sylus then please ignore this post and block me! <3

Tags: Stylus x Reader, reader is not Mc, Fem!Reader, creampie, clit rubbing, praise, use of "sweetie", slight dumbification, sloppy kisses, overstim, slight belly bulge

It was rare for Sylus to be very gentle in bed. Not saying he was aggressive and manhandled you every time, but he wasn't exactly mother Theresa. He usually had a bruising grip on your hips while pounding into you, one hand making it's way to your face, forcing you to watch his face or watch as his cock slid into you.

But then there were the nights where you begged for more, your eyes teary and hips bucking up to antagonize him. He'd give you what you want, slamming his hips back into yours until you fell apart on his cock and your mind practically snapped. He'd be gentle if you asked any night, but it was when you couldn't ask that he did it unprompted.

"There we go, sweetie." He pulled your body against his chest, hand rubbing your back as his thrusts slowed down and he fucked his cum deeper in. He came three times already, his cum dripping down the base of his cock after it leaked from your cunt.

His right hand slid up your back and he rubbed your hair, kissing your head. "A-ah...Sylus..." You buried your face in his chest, legs wrapping around his waist. He groaned slightly when your nails weakly dug into his back, hitting the scratch marks you left the night prior.

"So needy.." he rolled his hips up into you, smirking at your gasp. His cock hit all the right spots like it was made for you. He sped up slightly, watching as your hips bounced up slightly.

You lean back slightly, putting a little space between your chests. "So hot..." Your voice came out as a small whine, your body slick with sweat. Sylus held onto your waist with one hand as the other slid down from your neck, cupping a breast.

Sylus leaned in and blew cold air onto your neck, making you shiver. He smirked and kissed your neck softly, licking the slick skin. His hips moved slightly faster, his skin slapping against yours.

"Fuck...oh God.." you cry out slightly as he pressed your back against the bed, his hand on your waist holding onto the headboard. "Damn it.." he huffed slightly when you squeezed around him, his eyebrows knitting down.

He bottomed out and went all the way to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix. You cry out and turn your head to the side, clawing at a pillow. His balls slapped against your ass with each thrust, the sound mixed in with the already lewd noises of your moans and wet slapping.

You desperately slid your hand down to rub your neglected clit, which earned Sylus slapping your hand away. He pressed his thumb to your clit and rubbed it weakly, his gentle touch making you yearn for more.

"Sylus-"

"You can handle it."

He rubbed harder and your toes curled. Your head fell back and a silent scream left you as you came. Sylus groaned when you squirt on his cock, hips squirming like crazy. He grabbed your hips and forced you as close as possible when he came. His balls tightened and you felt his seed pump into you for the third time that night, making your stomach bulge ever so slightly.

A minute later he pulled out with a wet 'shulp', his cock limp and covered with cum and slick. Your eyes were barely open and your whole body trembled. Sylus picked you up and cradled you to his chest, walking over to the large couch in his room.

"You got the bed dirty. Not like I mind. But I need to fix it first." He sat you down on the couch and covered you up with his coat, smiling when you curled up under it. He kissed your head and put on a robe.

You fell asleep before he could even start.

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Requests are open! :3