#it's just a little longer so it's taking me longer

[khioneee]

zayne hates the way you look in a hospital bed.

the sheets are too white, the room too sterile, and the iv in your arm makes his stomach twist in ways he won’t admit. you look smaller like this.

too still, too quiet. it doesn’t suit you.

‘you should get some rest,’ he says, his voice even, professional. detached, like a doctor should be. but you know better. you always have.

‘you’re here again,’ you murmur, tilting your head just enough to meet his eyes.

he doesn’t answer. instead, he adjusts the blanket over your shoulders, making sure it covers you properly. it’s a useless gesture because the room is warm, and you’re not shivering.

but he does it anyway.

a ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. ‘you should be more careful, doctor,’ you tease, voice quiet but laced with something familiar, something warm. ‘the others might think i’m your favorite patient.’

he should roll his eyes. scoff. say something sarcastic like he always does. but this time, he doesn’t. instead, he just shakes his head, something unreadable passing through his gaze before he looks away.

for a second, you swear he almost says something. but then he pulls back, his hand leaving your blanket, his presence retreating ever so slightly.

you let it go.

it’s late when he comes back. the overhead lights are dimmed, the quiet hum of machines the only thing filling the room. you’re half-asleep when you hear the soft click of the door, but even in the haze of exhaustion, you know it’s him. you always do.

‘you should go home, zayne,’ you mumble, voice thick with sleep. ‘get some rest.’

‘i was.’ his voice is quiet, careful. ‘didn’t feel right.’

‘you care for me too much.’

‘nonsense,’ he said instead. ‘there’s only way too much or none at all.’

you force your eyes open, blinking up at him. he’s standing at the foot of your bed, hands in his pockets, his coat slightly wrinkled like he’s been running on autopilot all day.

‘zayne—’

‘you said something earlier,’ he interrupts, and there’s something in his tone—hesitation, maybe. or something heavier. ‘about being my favorite patient.’

you let out a tired huff of laughter. ‘what, did it offend you? i can take it back.’

he exhales sharply through his nose, not quite a laugh, but not quite nothing. then, after a beat, he moves closer, just enough for his voice to drop into something barely above a whisper.

‘you’re my most important patient.’

the words settle between you, sinking into the space where exhaustion lingers, where unspoken things have always gone unsaid.

you study him, taking in the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers flex at his sides like he’s resisting the urge to reach for you.

‘yeah?’ you murmur, softer this time.

his gaze flickers to yours, steady and certain. ‘yeah.’

you don’t say anything after that. but you don’t need to.

instead, your eyes drift to the chair beside your bed. ‘you’re staying, aren’t you?’

he doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. with a quiet sigh, he lowers himself into the chair, shifting slightly to get comfortable. not that he ever will. the chair is stiff, unforgiving, and he’s been running on too little sleep for too many days.

but he doesn’t complain. he never does.

you watch him for a moment longer, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyes linger on you even as he leans back.

‘go to sleep,’ he murmurs, closing his eyes. ‘doctor’s orders.’

you want to argue, to tell him he should be the one sleeping somewhere comfortable, but the weight of exhaustion is already pulling you under. the last thing you see before you drift off is zayne, slouched in that uncomfortable chair, his breathing steady, his presence unwavering.

and for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel alone.

because you never knew it. never realized it.

but zayne became a doctor for you.

when you were little and scraped your knee, he was the one who pressed plasters to your skin, his hands careful, his touch gentle. when you sniffled from the sting, he’d ruffle your hair and say, ‘there. all better.’

when you climbed trees too high and got stuck, it was zayne who came running, scolding you under his breath as he helped you back down. and when you fell, because you always fell, he was the one who knelt beside you, wiping the dirt from your palms before you even had the chance to cry.

when you got sick, he was the one who snuck into your house with soup he swore wasn’t that bad, sitting by your bed even when you told him to go home. he would press the back of his hand against your forehead like he had seen adults do, frowning like he could will the fever away just by staying close.

when you started training to be a hunter, he was the one who patched you up after every battle, every wound, every brush with death.

he never once told you to quit, but every time he stitched a cut or wrapped a bandage around your wrist, his hands would linger, as if memorizing every scar.

and now, when the world threatens to break you, he’s still here.

still taking care of you. still choosing to stay.

you wake up hours later, the room still cloaked in soft, early-morning silence. the first thing you notice is the warmth around your wrist.

zayne.

he’s asleep in the chair, his head tilted slightly, dark circles visible beneath his eyes. his hand is wrapped around your wrist, fingers loose but still holding on, like he fell asleep taking your pulse.

like he needed proof that you were still here.

still breathing.

you shift slightly, just enough to tighten your fingers around his. he stirs for only a second but doesn’t let go.

and neither do you.

[bunny-jpeg]

john price would trap you with a baby. no questions asked. he knew the years were catching up to him. he knew that wouldn't be much longer before he couldn't pass on the price genes.

he felt bad when he masturbated, felt like he was wasting his boys. spurts of hot cum down his large shaft wishing that it was inside a pretty little things smaller cunt. his hand was too rough even with lubrication. he needed something with supple flesh that he could sink his teeth into and a wet pussy to stuff full. he wanted to feel himself impregnating someone.

that was where you came in.

you felt amazing, sex with you was something else. the way you were like a bunny when you rode his cock. you bounced on him, not slowing down until he wrung at least three orgasms out of you. he found it endearing that you could take him. and while cowgirl was fun and missionary felt classic.

if price wanted to get you pregnant then, he knew that doggy style would be the best course of action. sadly, that position was a little more difficult given your size difference. price the bear and his little cub, those weren't just terms of endearment. he was burly, hairy, but you were so much shorter that he couldn't easily slip into you. but things could always be modified.

he smothered you under him as you laid on the bed with your legs spread and price was on top of you with his cock invading your slick entrance. the feeling was different and the weight on top of you only added to the pleasure.

his mind was focused, as he worked himself into you. he slid in easily, little resistance from you. your pussy was greedy for him, not that price could blame you. you were just so perfect for him. he shaped you into the perfect thing for him. you were his angel, the sweetest fruit, the woman he wanted to carry his child. if you liked it or not.

thoughts of you dark puffy nipples, the waddle in your step, the complaints of back pain. how your body changed because of him, he marked you in a way that no other man could. price boys grew strong and were a handful both in the womb and out. hungry boys too, but price would happily massage your fat tits to make sure there was more than enough milk for his boys. might have a little taste himself, see what all the fuss was. the heavy milk on his tongue as he fucked his pretty wife.

no need to go out and find a job. price's got enough to make sure that your wallet and your womb were packed full. no need to worry your little head, just make sure the babies are taken care of and price will do all the thinking in the relationship. he knew your dream was to see your diploma on the wall, but he thought that a family photo would be much better.

hard to complete your degree when your pregnant belly doesn't fit in the lecture hall seat or it was feeding time for john jr. there was nowhere for you to nurse his hefty son and you'd in the end miss too much class because price would be keeping you at home to start on the next one.

"that's it, doll. that's my girl. she suckin' me right in. she know what she wants and she's takin' it. made just for, huh, petal?" he growled as he pressed into you further, his cock didn't slip out. he fucked you feverishly.

he felt you tremble as you came not once, but twice, back to back. price continued to fuck you, ruin your pretty little folds and let him feel as much as he could of your sweet sex. you felt amazing, only pussy price would want. he fucked you roughly with his hands pressed into the covers on either side of your head. you were too blissed out by the time he finished inside of you that you didn't even ask for him to pull out.

a good wife took every drop.

he soon after pulled his cock out, the sight of his cum sticking to your slick pussy lips with most of his seed inside of you. made his cock peek at attention once more. "there she is." he purred, "messy girl." he tipped your hips up and held them in his large hands. he dipped between your legs and played with your pussy. something to distract you while his cum slid into the back of your pussy.

now be good, and get pregnant <3

a/n: i don't know what came over me... i'm sorry

[valentinedrifter]

Moments with Karina: The Park

male reader x Yu Jimin/Karina

~6.9k words

A/N: Noob writer making stories. Enjoy.

“So how does air taste like?”

“Funny, you should try it out for yourself.”

“You seemed like you were enjoying it.”

—

You weren’t exactly sure how it got to this point.

Meeting a K-pop idol wasn’t exactly on your bucket list, but here we are, with a K-pop idol, a pretty famous one at that, in the middle of the night, in an empty park, with her laughing and dragging you around like she wasn’t a famous K-pop idol.

It doesn’t help that she’s wearing a pretty explicit outfit. The top alone was driving you crazy. So much so that you just want to pin her down the nearest tree-wall-whatever and show her how much she’s affecting you by simply existing.

The dumbest thing? You didn’t even know she was a K-pop idol till she told you.

So how did you let it get to this point?

Well, it kinda started at a convenience store.

You got off work pretty late, your boss telling you to do a bit of overtime for a bridge call he wanted you to attend because someone decided to mess up a couple of accounts, on a Friday of all days. But you, not wanting to lose your work visa because you didn’t suck up to your boss and potentially lose your job, stayed.

I mean, you’ll still get paid regardless, but it sucks having to leave the office five hours later than you wanted to be.

So here you are, coming into the nearest convenience store to your apartment, still in your work clothes that you got from the discount stores you occasionally visit because if it fits and it looks good on you plus it’s cheap, then that’s good enough for you.

You round the corner to the food aisle to get whatever stops your stomach from being hangry with how you decided to work five more extra hours. But you remember that those five extra hours translates to more money so you think that your stomach will be fine, especially when you see a bento box that has tempura, some sushi, and a salad of some kind. Wasn’t your favorite meal but-

“Food’s still food.” You shrug, grab it, and head off to the drinks aisle for your favorite peach drink.

Then you see her.

At first glance she was pretty unassuming. With her back turned she looked like a regular old nobody like you that also wanted to buy a drink, so you thought that there’ll be no problem just going up next to her and opening up the beverage cooler to get your peach drink.

But she turns to face you when grab your drink, and by God was she beautiful. So much so that your brain short circuited and forgot that you were supposed to get your drink. And when she smiles, you’ve lagged out-

“You okay there?” She asks, and her voice sounds divine, unreal even. But she is, and she’s looking at you with a teasing glint in her eye and a slight smirk in her face as you come back to reality, shake your head a bit, and give a shaky laugh.

“Sorry, just a little tired from work.” You know it’s a very shitty excuse because you totally weren’t enchanted with her smile, but you did spend close to 15 hours in the office today. Although she doesn’t know that of course.

You quickly grab your drink and attempt to close the cooler, but she squeezes in between the door and your hand to grab the same drink you did, and straightens to give you another one of her smiles.

“Thanks for helping me choose my drink.” She says, like you two weren’t complete strangers and walks away to the counter, and you’re left shaking your head and trailing behind her after closing the cooler.

It takes you a teeny bit longer than her to pay but that also lets you subtly check her out and you swear she knows, because she saunters away with a little sway in her hips that just…fuck.

And when she sits down next to an empty table with a conveniently placed empty chair and looks at you, gives you a knowing smile, and pats the table while she goes about opening her drink, she definitely knows.

And so here you are, sitting across this beautiful stranger in the middle of the night while trying your best to focus at your bento box, which you begin munching down to avoid thinking about the fact that she wanted to sit next to a complete nobody who just so happens to be you while she takes a sip on her own drink, taking glances at you with a glint in her eye that makes you uneasy in a weirdly good way.

For the next few minutes, it was pretty silent between the both of you, you focused on your food and her scrolling on her phone, drink halfway empty. It wasn’t until you took a sip of your own drink that the silence gave way to conversation.

“You always ask strangers to sit next to you at convenience stores?” You begin, and she chuckles.

“You would be the first.” A sip of her drink.

“Then why ask me?” A stab of a fork hitting sushi.

“Because you looked like you needed company.” A ringtone plays out of her phone.

And that made you stop midway into having food into your mouth, placing down said food to give her a stare that screamed ‘doubt’.

“What, you a therapist now?” Your eyebrow raises, and your mouth goes upwards.

“Maybe, should I start asking for payment?” She side-eyes, and her mouth goes upwards.

“Depends, what kinda payment do you accept, miss…?” You ask, and she turns to face you.

“Jimin.” She leans towards you.

“And I accept payment in gossip, mister…?” She grins, a palm on her cheek.

You tell her your name, she repeats it, and you’ve never wanted to hear your name spoken out loud like that again so much your brain is activating neurons.

“Well then!” She claps her hands. “Start talking.” She beams, and that might actually get you killed.

—

You didn’t know how long you spent with Jimin talking, ranting, venting, everything. You just know that being with her felt nice.

Like it was okay just talking about anything with her.

You tell her about taking overtime just to make sure your boss and your boss’ boss is happy, she laughs and tells you that she’s doing overtime because she’s “in demand” at her job and she doesn’t get enough sleep.

You say that you work as an analyst at an electronics company and she says that she’s a model for a couple of brands out there that are too expensive for you to buy, let alone look at.

You’re annoyed that you lost your last 50/50 at the latest banner on this popular gacha game, having to angry pull another 70 or so tickets just to get your favorite purple-haired amnesiac and she brags that she’s “a little over 11,000” levels at some connect 3 game, showing you the game on her phone that clearly says “11,552” on the bottom right of the screen.

You two keep this back and forth until you realize that you’ve been taking sips out of an empty bottle for the last couple of minutes, and you hear a sweet little giggle that just sounds so fucking cu-

Stop.

You embarrassingly take a glance at her, and she’s grinning ear to ear. “And now he notices.” She brings up her own empty bottle of peach and dangles it in front of you. “So how does air taste like?”

“Funny.” You stand up, grumbling as you start to clean up your mess at the table. “You should try it out for yourself.” You tap her bottle as you stand up and head to the garbage can.

“Wanted your opinion on it Mister Analyst, you seemed like you were enjoying it.” she follows you to the garbage and throws it out her bottle as you soon follow.

“Peachy.” You step outside. “Really peachy.”

She bumps your shoulder with her own and smiles. “I’ll be sure to have a go at it next time.” She whips out her phone and hands it to you. “You should give me your number, just so we can compare notes when I try drinking air.”

You smile back. “Very smooth Jimin, sure it’s not because you want me to start playing that game of yours?” you hand it back to her after putting your number with your name as the contact, which she quickly changes to ‘Mister Analyst’ with a nerdy emoji.

“Totally because I don’t want you to start playing, no.” She’s laughing as she rings your number, and your phone lights up with hers. You were about to save it until she grabs your phone and starts typing away, probably saving her number for you and hands it back to you with the words ‘Jimin’ with a heart looking right back at you.

You ain’t gonna lie, but that made your heart skip a beat for a second.

“Nice heart.” Placing your phone back to your pocket, you look back at her smiling at you, hands behind her back which really accentuates her…chest.

That white top really was doing wonders for her. Doesn’t help that she unbuttoned one of her shoulder straps because it was a part of some fashion trend or whatever. You weren’t really listening on that part because, well, tits.

“Still up for a walk?” She tilts her head, smiling at you when she’s totally not shoving her tits in your face.

“Don’t you have curfew, Miss Model?” You notice it’s close to midnight.

“I told manager-unnie to pick me up at the park close by.” She points her thumb towards your right. “Be a gentleman and take me there, why don’t you?”

Before you could answer, she’s already walking like you agreed. You shake your head, still in disbelief that she could trust someone she’s met no more than an hour, maybe two, so easily,  before catching up.

“You trust me that much to walk you to a park?” You ask, finally wanting to get the answer to the conundrum that is Jimin.

She slows down her walk to look at you. An intense gaze that pierced straight into yours. And Jimin smiles, softly, “Yeah.” And moves on, pretending that nothing happened, like something didn’t change between the two of you, and she mutters something that you couldn’t pick up. 

“You treat me as just Jimin.”

—

You two continue your banter all the way to the park, her talks about her work increasing in number as you found out that she wants to break into the acting industry, be more than just a face in a billboard, more than just someone part of a group, which sounded odd considering she’s a model and models usually work alone, but you let her continue on, letting her air out her frustrations and you unknowingly becoming her outlet.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love them like they’re my family.” Them being her co-workers, you think. “It’s just the job that’s tiring sometimes, you know?” You both continue your stroll, finally reaching the park, trees illuminated by all the lights making it feel peaceful. “Having to always keep up with appearances, having to do what the higher ups say,” She rambles on, taking a seat at a nearby bench, this tired look on her face like it’s her first time being able to say all these things.

“Sometimes, a girl’s gotta do her own thing.” She finishes, as you take up the spot next to her and lean back, taking in the lights, the trees, her face-

You blink. “And this is part of a girl doing her own thing?” Your hand stretches out to relax on the bench. “Talking to strangers, dragging them to a park?”

“First of all, you’re no longer a stranger. You’re Mister Analyst now.” She shoots back. “Second, you agreed to take me here, like a gentleman should.” And the swoon that she makes looks so fake you roll your eyes.

“Right.” You draw it out just enough to let her know that you’re smiling. “I should get paid for this.” You say it as an offhand comment, and she makes an exaggerated gasp.

“You totally should!” She stands up, and starts making small poses as if she’s in a photoshoot. “But you gotta take pics first!”

And so your impromptu life as a photographer begins, using your phone-

“Why is it my phone exactly? Your phone’s better.”

“Because it’s your job to take pictures of me, so you have to use your phone.”

Using your phone as the camera and her as the object of its obsession, you two begin taking pictures all over the park, starting off with a simple head tilt behind some trees, making her hair move just right to highlight her face, and she gives this stare that makes your heart stop for a second and you start-.

Click.

She leans to the left, making one of her legs go slightly up in the air and gives a shy smile.

Click.

She stretches her hands and makes a cute little face that makes you wanna pinch her chee-

Click.

She steps up to the road and turns around to face you, readying herself up by fixing her hair before-

Click.

She hurries back to you, screaming “Yah!” before snatching your phone and skipping away, like it’s her turn to take a picture.

Click.

She stops and hands your phone back to you. “Take it properly this time.” She smiles, and you’ll never get tired of that look on her face before you put your phone up and just-

Click.

She laughs, so carefree, and takes your hand before taking you away to another area of the park, going up a pedestrian crossing before she stops and leans on the railway, giving another smile that lights up the area around her and-

Click.

You two reach the top of the bridge, and she leans forward, staring to the left so you can-

Click.

The both of you walk to the other side, smiling and laughing and having fun like it’s just the two of you left in the world before she leans back on the railing and gives you another look, her white top’s design now prominently seen in the lens of your phone.

The bra that is ever-so-slightly obvious underneath those words on her top, telling you to Send Nudes.

Click.

You feel things shifting between the two of you, a couple lines crossed that ring a few alarm bells in your mind but at the same time, it makes you feel happy, content, making it feel so easy to forget all your problems and just live in the moment with Jimin. 

And she feels it too, when you notice that her stares linger a little bit more than they should whenever you take a picture, or when her hands take a second longer before she lets you go. But no words are said, no more lines to be crossed right now when you both want some time away from responsibilities and relax for a couple of hours.

And that is how you got to this point.

“You okay there?” She’s right in front of you now, waving her hand across your face. A flicker of amusement passes by her eyes as she gives you a giggle. “You looked pretty focused on those pictures. Still can’t believe I’m that beautiful?”

You let out an embarrassed chuckle, glazing back down at your phone’s gallery, pictures of Jimin front and center, before your eyes go back right at her face which you gently give her forehead a flick. “Your ego’s showing, Miss Model.” 

You hear a cute yelp. “Because that’s the same look you gave me back at the store!”

“What look?” You hand her your phone, one of her pictures on the screen, silently asking her to review your creations that were about this beautiful woman named Jimin.

“The look that made me feel like I’m the only thing that matters right now.” She starts scrolling through the pictures while you’re still processing what she just said, jaw a little dropped, chest pounding a bit more, mind rizzed up by Jimin and she’s just there, smiling at her own pictures as though she didn’t just cross another one of those invisible lines.

You blurt something out along the lines of “Maybe you are, Jimin” and her finger stops mid-scroll to focus on you, eyes looking straight into yours, as if she was peering into your soul. 

“I never did tell you who I am, did I?” Her look on you softens, yet still searching for something that you can’t quite describe.

“Does it matter?” Your brows furrow. “You could be Jimin, Miss Model, whoever.” A smile crosses your lips. “All of that just makes you…you, and I think I’d like to know more about all of you, whoever that is.”

And now it’s her turn to have her jaw a little dropped, eyes still soft as she lets out a little laugh. “You say that to all the strangers you meet?”

“Nah, just the ones that make me follow them to a park in the middle of the night and call me ‘Mister Analyst’.” Air quotes are made with a smirk. “So lay it on me, Miss Model.”

She returns with a smile, a real one, and opens her mouth to say-

“Karina. Æspa’s Karina.” She gives a little bow. “Nice to meet you.” And she straightens up, like she’s suddenly become this ‘Karina’ in a split second, her real persona hidden underneath a layer of sophistication and grace, and yet, all you see is Jimin.

Wait. You’ve heard that word before.

“Dude, have you listened to the new song Æspa released?” One of your coworkers suddenly comes up to you while you’re busy fixing up last minute data errors on an excel sheet because somebody decided to use the wrong formula again.

You glance back at him. “What the fuck is an Æspa?” You weren’t really familiar with K-Pop, too focused on adjusting to Korea and all its nuances like actually speaking the language which took you almost 4 months to be somewhat fluent in it.

Eyes widen. “You don’t know who they are?” Suddenly a phone comes out of a pocket and fingers frantically start tapping. “You seriously gotta start listening to K-Pop, you’re missing out!”

And in the next few seconds you hear this synthy, dark, mesmerizing tune and-

“Yeah, yeah” A pause. “I’m the drama” It drags out before-

“Where the hell are those reports?” Your head snaps back to the monitor, quickly getting your head back to the task at hand-

You blink.

She’s still eyeing you, softness replaced with a weary guard, afraid that you’d look at her in a different light until-

“Huh.” You shrug. “One of my friends would freak out if he saw you.” You tease, and reach your hand out. “So how are they? Up to your standards?” 

Then she blinks, and a laugh comes out of her mouth, disbelief written on her face. “Seriously? That’s it?” She’s shaking her head now. “I tell you that I’m this-” Her hands are flailing “-this K-Pop idol and you’re not even surprised?”

You give her another shrug. “I don’t listen to K-Pop, I listen to EDM.” You take the phone out of her hands and show her the last piece of music you were listening to, Lost in Mumbai by Apashe.

She gives you this exasperated stare when she grabs your phone and starts scrolling down your playlist, laser focused on all the song names and sure enough, it’s full of EDM, House, and the occasional Phonk.

“The only thing close to K-Pop here is K/DA.” Her arms are slump, defeated. “How have you not heard of us?” Another shake of the head. “No, how have you not heard of K-Pop when you’re literally in South Korea?”

“Too busy learning hangul and surviving the corporate world I guess?” You don’t really have a defense to that, since you’ve been in Korea for almost six months now and you somehow still managed to avoid K-Pop.

Can’t say you’ve avoided PC Bangs or Manhwas though.

“I told you, I want to know more about you, whoever that is.” You tilt your head. “Karina’s just another part of you that I’d like to figure out.” You lean closer to her, eyes drawn to your phone and your fingers tapping back to your gallery, where a picture of her leaning on a railway is center stage. “Seriously, how are the pics? Good enough for an idol?”

She lets out a huff, still not believing that this is happening to her right now, but her raven eyes showing a hint of something else now. Adoration, warmth, lov-“Yeah.” Her voice was low. “They were great.” But Jimin wasn’t looking at the pictures anymore, she was looking at you.

She takes a hand and brushes it over to your cheek, guiding your face up to hers and you feel her breasts press into your chest before she shifts, her lips brushing against yours in a soft kiss, her hand caressing your jawline as you slowly reciprocate.

And she pulls away, just enough for you to feel her breath on your face, and your mind is reeling when she says-

“I think I want to know more about you too.”

—

She takes you away to a darker area of the park, hidden from prying eyes with your hand on her hip and another on her cheek as you push forward, your mouth connecting with Jimin’s, lost in yourselves. She has both hands looped around your neck, kisses deepening, light moans in the air.

You didn’t know how long you two stayed like that, enjoying being with one another, but when she pulls away you’re both breathing heavily, lips burned from all the action as you let out a chuckle.

“Sure you should be doing this?” Your thumb, still on her cheek, starts to move to brush her red face. “Gonna be a hell of a scandal if we get caught.”

“I don’t care.” She bites her lip. “A girl’s gotta do her own thing.” She repeats what she told you earlier, and her eyes look back at yours.

“And I…” Her heart laid bare to you. ”I trust you.” Those three words carried so much weight, and the lines you were crossing began to blur into something more.

You didn’t have to say it back, not when you look at her like she’s your world, not when she already knows. So you do the next best thing you could have.

“Remember when you decided to play therapist earlier?” You start, and in an instant you spin her around, back facing you as you whisper. “Let me take care of you this time.” 

The gasp that comes out of her mouth sounded angelic when you start kissing her neck so tenderly, the little sighs that come out of her mouth as you pepper small kisses, the breathy moan when she says not to leave marks on her neck as you smile under all those pecks on her neck, her jaw, her cheek, and you’re right back to where you started when her lips are already parted, arousal in her eyes as your mouths connect once more.

She brings a hand up to your cheek, another to your hand that was resting on her hip, and starts bringing it lower, deeper, into her jumpsuit that you could just pull down and she’d fucking let you.

It wasn’t until you felt your hand stop at her safety shorts where you separated from her. Her hand still resting on your cheek, eyes darker than what they were used to, lips wet as she takes deep breaths. 

“Last chance to back out.” You didn’t know if you were asking her or yourself, because you both knew that this was a really bad idea. “Your manager might be close by.” Another excuse to stop this, to go back to running around the park taking pictures and pretending that there’s nothing happening between the two of you.

But when Jimin gives you this dangerous little smirk, like she knows what you’re trying to do, she’s already all in. Especially when she takes your other hand and brings it up to one of her breasts, still covered in that white top that you know that there’s no chance in hell she’s stopping.

“Honey.” Your brain blanks out when she whispers. “Stop talking and start touching.”

Now, all bets are off.

You give her breast a rough squeeze, her back arching, your cock throbbing at the way she starts to grind against you. You quickly leave the softness of her chest to steady her hips, stopping her, making her whine, until you pull her top and bra up in one go, exposing her tits to the cold air and you go back to groping all of that soft, firm flesh of hers. You tug at one of her buds, flicking it, rolling it, before you stop to gently slap her boobs, making them jiggle in front of you.

She lets out a soft whimper, grinding against the hand on her shorts instead and your hands starts moving, upwards to the edge of her shorts, slipping inside them, feeling her wet and hot and fucking gorgeous when you pull her panties aside and start to slowly circle around her clit, making her eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent scream, head leaning back towards you.

And once you bring a finger inside her, and she starts to break.

You were evil with her, when you’re pumping your finger so slowly yet playing with her tits so roughly or when you added another finger inside her tight pussy, upping your pace at the way you go in and out of her while gently massaging her tits and it was driving her absolutely insane.

“Please.” She’s biting her lip to stop herself from moaning out loud. “Don’t tease me.” She’s begging now, face pointed towards you, eyes wide as you let out a chuckle.

“Fast or slow, Ji?” You’re still teasing, fingers no longer moving inside her cunt and your other hand resting on one of her breasts.

She kisses you, raw, desperate, biting your lips with hers, and only a word is uttered.

“Rough.”

And your fingers start to push and pull inside of her, another thumbing her clit and she’s crying out, one of her hands quickly going up to her mouth to silence herself while one of yours continue to abuse her tits, slapping them harder now, leaving reddish marks on her perfect skin.

You don’t realize that she’s been cupping the tent in your pants for a while now when you’ve been so focused on Jimin that you move back just enough to let her unzip your pants to fish out your length.

“Dirty little girl, aren’t you?” Your mouth starts moving on its own. “Want my cock that bad?” She nods, her hand moving. 

“You know you’ll be mine after this, right?” You bite her ear, and she moans, eyes closed, pleasure overriding her brain.

“Yours.” She says it like it's a fact, set in stone somewhere, and her eyes are wide now, full of this fondness towards you. “Yours now. Always yours.”

And she finally exposes your cock, she takes a hold of it, stroking it slowly, memorizing what it feels like. She was being so good with your length and yet you’re still punishing in your pace, a hand on her hip to keep her in place while your fingers are pumping so fast inside her pussy her knees are starting to give out.

The hand on her hip snaps up to her chin, forcing her to look at you, forcing her to let go of your shaft to hold on to you because she’s so close to getting ruined.

“Close?” You can hear the nods coming from her, the air a cacophony of moans, squelches, cries-

“Please, please, please-” She’s begging even more now. “Let me cum, fuck I need to cum-”

And when you put a third finger in, she’s ascending.

You’re slowing down now, letting her bask in her high, helping her stand straight as she cums, her chest shaking, legs turning to jelly, and you’re still there. Whispering all the  things that drive her mad.

“Let yourself go now baby, there you go.” She sighs, hands on your wrists.

“Yes-” She drags it out, leaning her entire body to you, chest heaving.

“Such a good girl for me, cumming all over my fingers like that.” Your fingers pull out and you start lazily circling her clit, making her let out a shaky laugh. 

“Stop, Stop-” She pulls your hand up from her core and up to her face, where she takes one of your fingers, still wet from her, and she starts to suck.

She’s enjoying it, eyes closed, tasting your fingers, tasting herself, letting out these dirty moans that you can feel in your hand. She doesn’t stop, not until every last one of your fingers are clean from her mess, sucking them, licking them, worshipping them. All the while one of her hands come back to your cock, her hand rolling into your length and a thumb at the tip and she starts to run it down slowly, and you let out a small sigh, like you’re finally getting relief.

She lets go of your fingers, eyes fluttering open to gaze at you, and the only thing she says before kissing you is-

“Mine.” 

Her hand is still jerking you off, twisting, soft, slow, fast, fuck, and she’s moving, facing you, giving out kisses from your lips downward, to your jaw, your neck, until she squats down, eyeing your cock for the first time, and the look she gives you sends a shiver down your spine.

A hand on your thigh, still clothed with your pants, and another still holding onto your dick while she nuzzles up to it, rubbing it against her face while she lets out these sighs that makes it throb harder, until she rests it on her face, and she speaks these utterly filthy words-

“Honey, can I suck your cock?” She’s still asking for permission, still being the good girl that she is, and all you do is take a hold of your cock, slap it a few times on her cheeks, on her lips before-

“Anything for you, Ji.” And her face lights up, her eyes locked onto yours, her head moving forward to give your tip a kiss, then another, and another, until she’s smothering your cock with kisses which makes you jerk your hips forward, hands on her hair and now you’re the one begging.

She’s grinning, enjoying what she’s doing to you, and gives you a small reprieve when her tongue stretches out to have a taste of you, and your head leans back at the sensation.

She’s licking everywhere, starting from the base, slowly sliding it up your length, swirling around your cockhead to get all the precum that’s been leaking out, and she goes back down to start it all over again.

She’s not trying to edge you so much as she is worshipping you, every inch of your cock lathered in her spit and all you can do is moan her name out.

And then she parts her lips and takes your cock into the her hot, wet mouth is when your mind blanks out and you’re gone-

“Fuck, Jimin-” Even now she’s smiling, your cock in her mouth as she hollows her cheeks, bobbing her head on your length slowly, savoring your taste like it’s going to be the last time she’ll ever have it, and she’s loving it.

Slurps are all you hear, her tongue flicking over and under your cock as she takes in more of you, one of her hands holding the base, moving in tandem with her mouth as she gives you this amazing blowjob that’s making your knees shake.

Then she puts both her hands on your thighs and slides down even more to take your entire length down her throat, her mouth in contact with your clothed pelvis and you feel her gag and pull back.

She’s still stroking your length, full of her drool like her chin is now, while she’s recovering from taking all of you, licking her lips from all the precum and all the strings of spit and she’s staring-”Am I doing good honey?”

“Fuck, you’re doing so well Ji-” A hand goes down to cup one of her tits, and you squeeze while she smacks your cock against her face before taking it all in once more.

She’s going faster now, sloppier, trying different things like moving her head to the side so your cock hits the inside of her cheek, or when she tries to throat your cock all the way back while she’s humming that makes your entire body feel the vibrations.

And everytime, her tongue is always moving, always getting a lick here and there, always twirling around your tip when she pulls back, always trying to get a taste of your balls when she takes your entire length down her throat.

You’re trying your damn best to hold back from cumming, to get more out of this moment with Jimin because you don’t know if you’ll ever experience this again until she takes your cock out of her mouth, tongue sliding over the side, and and it’s like she knows because-

“You know you can cum whenever, right?” Her tongue slides up the other side. “It’s not like this’ll be the last time, honey.” And she stops, resting your cock back on her face again and gives you this look of adoration or devotion or both-

“After all, I’m yours, aren’t I?”

And all self-control goes out the window when your hands get on her hair, forcing her on your length, pushing and pulling and she’s staring at you, letting you use her to get off.

Hands braced onto your thighs, lips wrapped around your cock, tongue moving under your length as you start getting rougher, thrusting your hips faster until-

“Shit, Jimin, cumming-” Hands still holding on to her hair as she pulls her head back all the way out except for the tip, her hand pumping so fast and her tongue still fucking twirling as the first spurts of your cum spilling right into her mouth, her tongue suddenly stopping to lay flat to catch all of it as she drains you of your load, eyes watching you go positively braindead from the pleasure that is Jimin, Karina, Her.

Just as when your orgasm was about to end, she takes your tip out of her mouth and lets the last of your cum land onto her face, messy little streaks on her cheeks, across her nose, and her mouth opens to show you all the cum she’s collected from you.

There’s an idea somewhere, at the back of your mind, something downright outrageous that would definitely get you both in even more trouble and yet, your hand is already moving on its own to collect your phone from your pocket, opening up your camera to-

A red dot starts to blink on your screen.

She’s still smiling against all the cum on her face, still smiling when she widens her mouth to give you a better view of the cum she wrung out of you, still smiling when she gargles it, relishing it, and she’s still smiling when she swallows it.

Her mouth opens one last time to show you well she did it too, and you’re brushing your thumb on a strand on her cheek, bringing it up to her lips to feed her more of your cum, and she’s gladly taking more.

“So good for me.” You keep giving her the strays that are left on her face, helping her clean herself up from your filth and as soon as she’s gotten all of it, she’s licking her lips, still looking at your phone and she winks.

The red dot stops.

You put your phone down, falling back into your pocket as she stands up and gives you a little peck, that smile still etched onto her face, your hands gravitating towards her tits, red from all the slaps you’ve given them and riddled with all the spit she’s let loose from sucking your cock, and you grab them like their yours.

“Thanks for all the cum honey.” 

Her phone lights up and a ringtone blares out.

—

You both cleaned up fairly quickly, well, mostly her considering you fucked her with your fingers and came on her mouth-

“I’m seriously gonna need a change of panties when I get home.”

“Hey, you’re the one that wanted to do it in a park.”

She laughs, smacks your shoulder before spinning around to walk back to the main area of the park, and you’re shaking your head in amusement before catching up to her.

She’s still walking when she suddenly turns her head and-”Take another picture.”

And your life as a photographer continues on. Your phone on the ready, she has her hands on her hips and her head’s slightly towards you with a small smile for you to just-

Click.

“Thanks honey.” She gives this little whirl with this grin that just melts your heart-

“Karina!” Footsteps accompany the shout, and you turn and see this woman in all black running out from a car and stops- “Where have you been?!”

“With a friend, unnie.” And Jimin’s acting like she’s done nothing wrong, as if it wasn’t way past midnight and she’s just nudging your shoulder. “Say hi to manager-unnie.”

You give this timid wave and she’s ignoring you, too focused on Jimin-Karina to care about some nobody that was you. “We need to get back to your dorm, Karina. You still  have an early day tomorrow and it’s almost two in the morning! Do you know how-”

You stopped listening to give Jimin a glance and she’s back to being Karina with all the responsibilities that she wants to ignore coming back down on her, a smile that didn’t really come up to her eyes and a nod that felt too practiced when she’s being scolded for being up this late at night-

“And you.” Her manager points a finger at you, looking like she’s ready to give you a scolding before she lets out a tired groan. “Thank you for keeping an eye on her, she’s been a handful these last couple of months.”

Oh, she’s a handful alright-

Give a polite smile and tell her it’s no issue, and her manager’s back to ignoring you again for Karina who’s giving you a wave and a call me gesture as she’s heading into the car, yelling “See you later Mister Analyst!” before she’s taken away, returning to her modeling gigs and singing acts and you’re back to being an analyst that looks at numbers for a living.

Your brain was still processing all of the things you’ve just done with Jimin that you don’t notice that you’re already at the front door of your apartment. 

The door opens and closes and you’re wrecked on the bed, where you see a couple of text messages from her.

“Thanks for listening, I enjoyed tonight.” 

“And don’t forget to send the pics!” A heart emoji at the end.

“Here you are, Ji. I expect my payment in full.”  A few money emojis.

A laughing emoji. “I’ll treat you to coffee next time we meet”

“Oh so there is a next time?”

“There is now” A winky face.

“Lemme know when you’re free and I’ll take you to my fav cafe”

“Can’t wait!”

“And you forgot to send the video, honey” Three winky faces.

A laugh rings out of your apartment.

—

The weekend blurs by, having done nothing but have conversations with Jimin on the phone and look up who she is as Karina and you’re back to your life in the office, looking at numbers, suggesting actions, and pretending that you’re listening to company gossip.

Until you hear the words ‘Karina’s post’ and suddenly, you don't want to pretend anymore.

“What about Karina?” You couldn’t help yourself, and the words are already out loud before the same coworker who’s been telling you to start listening to K-Pop shoves his phone into your face to see your pictures in her Instagram with the caption-

‘To Mister Analyst’

The guy’s freaking out, asking everybody in the near vicinity who’s ‘Mister Analyst’ and ‘Is she dating someone’ and you’re sitting on your chair recording a short video of him before you open up your messages and-

“You see what you’ve done” The video attached.

“Absolutely mental”

An emoji of a hand over its mouth. “Like you’re not enjoying it”

A chuckle. “I’m more worried about you and your career with that post”

“Unnie’ll handle it, she always does”

“You still up for that cafe on Friday?”

And she’s already changing the topic, like this wasn’t a big deal, and here you are, smiling through the chaos, both in your office where your boss is trying to wrangle your friend back from causing more trouble for himself, and in the chaotic combinations of personas that is Jimin.

“Yeah. Pick you up at the park?”

“Can’t wait honey”

[nitadllyss]

The wrong pill.

Plot: Han takes a pill for his training, not realizing it’s viagra—let alone on the day he was going to see you.

Genre:smut, nsfw, Erotic Romance, PWP.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, use of Viagra, sex under its influence, oral sex (m!receiving), no condom use, semen, penetration (m/f), praise, etc.

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

Han had been fighting hard with the staff to be able to show off his body and tattoos. For this reason, he was preparing physically with great dedication. He never skipped a day at the gym, and it was obvious how much more muscular he had gotten.

He was now getting ready to train with Changbin. They were at his house, since Han had stayed over the night before; it had been too late for him to return home. To prepare his pre-workout shake, he used Changbin's stuff.

"Where do you have the creatine?" Han asked while rummaging through the drawer where Changbin kept his supplements.

"They are the transparent capsules" Changbin answered, focused on making his own pre-workout shake.

Han took his shake followed by the corresponding pills.

Everything was going well during the training. He was really satisfied with the results he was getting. For him, gaining muscle was easier, so in a short time he could already notice a noticeable difference.

As he was training, his alarm went off to remind him to take his intra-workout pill. He was committed to getting good and fast results, so he never missed a dose of vitamins or supplements.

“Hey, Bin, do you have any intra-workout pills?” Han asked, a little worried when he realized he hadn’t brought any.

“I think there’s L-Carnitine in my bag. Check it out and take one,” Changbin said, pointing to his gym bag.

Han walked over, opened the bag, and saw a mess of pills. Changbin definitely needed to be more organized. He assumed it was one of the white capsules, so he wasn’t too careful when taking one.

About 40 minutes later, after finishing his workout, he headed home. He was excited because he would see you today. They were having a sleepover. They weren’t a couple or anything, just best friends… although Han had been in love with you forever.

As he arrived, he started to feel strange. He was sweatier than usual, and as he looked in the mirror, he noticed his neck and ears were red. He brushed it off and went to take a shower, making sure he looked good for when you arrived.

After getting ready, however, he noticed that his face was still red, his heart was racing, and most worryingly… he had an erection. And it wasn't a regular one.

He didn't understand why, but his erection was strong and persistent.

Just as he was trying to do something to disguise it, he heard a knock on the door. He felt a chill in his chest and his nervousness increased.

When he opened it, there you were, looking cute and radiant as always. But something was different. He no longer noticed how pretty your makeup or hair looked. He could only focus his attention on how your breasts stood out under the neckline of your blouse and how juicy your thighs looked under your skirt.

"Hey!" you greeted, smiling, and went over to hug him, like you always did.

"Hey, babe" he replied playfully, using the nickname he used to call you.

You smiled at him and walked into his house.

"I'm sorry if I look all dressed up, I just got back from an outing with friends. Could you lend me some comfortable clothes to sleep in?"

He felt his erection throb as he heard that. Just imagining you in his clothes was driving him crazy.

"Ah… yeah, yeah, I'll be right back," he stammered, hurrying to his room. He looked for one of his shirts and, upon returning, handed it to you.

You changed without a problem, leaving you only with the shorts that you were wearing under your skirt.

"Thanks, Ji," you said, turning around to show him how his clothes looked on you.

Was he drooling? He wasn't sure, but he was literally mesmerized by the way your breasts were poking out from under his shirt. He was going to lose control.

"Come on, let's find the movie," you said, sitting next to him on the couch and resting your head on his shoulder as he browsed through the options.

You picked a horror movie, his favorites. Han hoped it would distract him from you, but every time you freaked out and came closer, his erection throbbed harder. It had even started to hurt.

After a while, you went to the bathroom. When you came back, you froze.

Han was on the couch, rubbing the bulge in his pants, panting softly.

"Ha-Han?" you asked, approaching him cautiously. It was then that you noticed the wet spot on his clothes.

"Mmh… I'm s-sorry…" he mumbled, throwing his head back, unable to keep his hands away from his crotch.

"Han, wtf?", you said, a bit embarrassed, not fully understanding the situation.

"Please don't be mad… I don't know what's wrong with me, but it hurts so much…" he whispered with his eyes closed, wishing the earth would swallow him up.

Just then his cell phone rang. It was Changbin.

"Bro, I think you took one of my viagra pills. That, or one went missing… I hope it doesn't cause you too much trouble."

"Are you kidding me?" Han almost screamed. "Why the hell would you have that in your bag? Ahg, it would kill you!" He hung up the call, frustrated.

Now everything made sense. At least for him.

You, on the other hand, were still standing in front of him, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Han looked up and let out a gasp as he watched you fix your eyes on his erection. His face flushed with embarrassment and he quickly placed a cushion on his lap.

"I'm so sorry..." he whispered, feeling like crying from both the shame and the pain in his pants.

"Don't worry... I'll leave so you can, uh... fix that..." you said, looking away, your cheeks flushing.

"Please... stay..." he asked almost in a plea.

You hesitated for a second, but seeing him like this, you couldn't help but feel a little sorry. And what was worse... you felt the wetness in your underwear since you noticed his bulge.

Han grunted as he felt you approach and pressed the cushion harder against himself.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, curious. You didn’t know if his gasps were from pain or pleasure.

“A lot…” he closed his eyes, rubbing himself more desperately.

You bit your lip. You hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Would you...want me to help you?"

Han felt his breath hitch.

“You don’t have to… I don’t want you to be uncomfortable…” but his hips contradicted his words. Not to mention the way his cock thrashed around in his pants.

But instead of answering, you placed a hand on top of his and pulled the cushion off his lap.

“I want to do it,” you whispered before leaning in and devouring his lips.

You could feel him holding back in the kiss, making hesitant movements, so you went deeper, mixing your tongues and sitting on top of his lap.

He couldn't help but growl into your mouth, the firmness with which he held your hips applying pressure having that slight relief that at the same time made him thirsty for more.

They got lost in the messy kiss, Han was already more confident and in control of the situation. As he pulled away he bit your lower lip in an attempt to chase you.

"Han~" you began to move your hips in circles, enjoying how his body reacted, feeling him so firm under you.

Han was so lost, he felt very high.

He was drowning in your neck, licking and biting every trace of visible skin.

"Han wait" you pulled away from the addictive sensation of his hot and wet tongue on your skin.

"Do you want to stop?" He said a little worried and disappointed, leaving a little space.

"No, I just want to make you feel good" you smiled and gave him a chaste kiss leaving him stunned.

You climbed off his lap and knelt in front of him.

You gave his thigh a caress before pulling down his fly. Seeing the wet spot on his underwear made your mouth water. You gave his clothed cock a kiss and then a lick.

Han's hands clenching the couch, his white knuckles trying not to fuck your mouth madly.

You pulled his underwear down along with his pants to his ankles and felt the saliva pooling in your mouth.

His tanned cock with its red head very sensitive. It was shiny from the precum that bathed it excessively.

With your thumb you touched the slit of his head probing a little. You smiled at the gasps from him.

"Ahh~ Y/N don't play" he clenched his jaw a bit desperately.

You gave him a kitten lick along his length and then swirled around his tip, you felt that with so little he was close to his release.

You started jerking him off with your hands, mixing your licks and squeezes.

Han was literally struggling not to cum and that started to bother you. You took him in your mouth, sucking lightly and making a mess of saliva and his fluids.

“You look so cute like this,” he said, totally pleased by the way your chin was disgustingly dripping with saliva. His duality made you clench your legs, minutes ago he was all whiny begging like a bitch and the tone he let out was so different.

You let out a moan and took him deeper, making yourself gag.

"Mmh you like being good for me? I'm sure you were drooling seeing me hard" he put a hand on your head, gathering your hair in a handful.

You rolled your eyes and moaned again, not quite understanding if it was his tone that caused it or the simple fact of being him.

"You feel so fucking good, you have a very skilled little mouth" he threw his head back growling at your gasps.

Determined to make him cum you forced your poor throat accompanying with your hands squeezing and massaging his balls.

You felt his cock move in your mouth.

"Mmh Y/N w-wait" he tried to stop your movements, but you only stood firmer, watching him stagger was everything.

Out of instinct he pressed your head towards him, betrayed by his pleasure seeking body.

Then after a few more seconds he cum in your mouth with many thick loads straight to your throat.

The growl followed by a pornographic moan was beautiful. He threw his head back and let go of your head.

"Was it good?" You said smiling licking your cum stained corners.

"It was literally amazing" he smirked and covering his eyes with his arm.

"Thanks Y/N" he said looking at you and caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You snuggled into his hand lovingly until you saw him frown.

"What? You're still hard? How is that possible" you said stunned, he was still rock hard AFTER CUMMING.

"It's not really something I can help" he grimaced.

"It's a good thing" you said standing up.

"Hmm?" Han said confused looking at you.

"It would really be a shame if you left me wanting to fuck, I really appreciate that pill" you said biting your lip and pulling down your shorts along with your underwear.

Han followed your movements attentively, as if he was bewitched by your charm. Seeing your underwear on the floor he let out a gasp at the visible stain of arousal you had left.

"You're needy aren't you?" He smiled shamelessly as if it wasn't his cock that had been erect for over an hour.

He took off his shirt showing his tattoos, you had already seen them, but seeing them together with his needy cock is something different.

You followed his steps and undressed completely, he stretched out his hand, in a quick movement he left you on your knees on the couch, your face against the couch and your ass completely exposed to his mercy.

"I promise that after this I will take the time to adore you as you deserve" he said in your ear followed by a kiss on your cheek.

You felt your heart flutter.

"But now I'm going to use you however I want" he ran his tongue disgustingly across your cheek, dirtyly erasing the tender kiss he had left.

He took your moan as consent and positioned himself behind you.

"So cute, willing to help me even if she has to give me her body" he smacked your ass with his hard cock making you gasp. He bit his lip to stop himself from moaning.

He spit on your entrance and without preparation pushed the tip in stretching you deliciously.

You both let out a gasp, the desire that was there making the pleasure double.

"You're so tight" he pushed himself in a little further and you could only moan begging for him to bottom out.

When he reached his base you arched your back and threw your head back.

"You're being so good for me" he began to give slow but deep thrusts.

"You don't know how many times I masturbated imagining having you like this for me" he growled.

In response you moaned and clenched around him.

He put his hand on your head pushing hard against the couch and began to penetrate you faster and harder.

You just moaned with each thrust totally lost in the way you felt every inch of his cock in your insides, the pain of his grip on your head making it even more pleasurable. You were completely at his mercy.

He put his other hand on your hip, helping him thrust more violently, moaning and grunting at how close his climax felt.

And before he had a chance to pull out of you, he cum deeply.

Feeling his hot cum fill you and his grunt you joined him in the climax moaning and clenching yourself choking his member against your rubbery walls now painted white.

You were so exhausted you could only gasp waiting for him to pull out.

He was still buried deep appreciating the warmth of your shared orgasms.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't want to..." he said, still without leaving you.

It's like his brain works, but his body has control.

"Calm down, actually, I liked it" you said trying to get over the climb.

He withdrew from you slowly, making you feel every inch you were losing. When he pulled out completely he admired your stretched entrance dripping with your mixed fluids.

"Are you okay?" He came back to reality and approached your face to check.

" It was so good" you said smiling and a bit sleepy "so you masturbated thinking about me? That's interesting" you laughed mockingly.

"Shut up, there's no need to repeat that" he was blushing as if you hadn't fucked two minutes ago.

You lay down and looked at him a little worried about what would happen to you after that.

"Can we leave that talk for later?" Literally as if he had read your thoughts.

"What needs to be done now?" You said, not understanding why he was putting off the talk.

You then saw him turn bright red and look down at his cock. He was hard again.

This was going to be a long sleepover.

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

English is not my first language, so if you see a mistake, please let me know 🙏🏻.

I need more practice writing smuts :((

I have several Chan fics waiting to be reviewed before posting 🤭.

If you have any requests, send them💞.

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤSWEET BUNNYㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Yandere Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How would they be with a timid and shy darling?

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.

☆⁠ NOTE : Request by anon ♡ English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

Bruce never saw himself as possessive. He saw himself as cautious, reasonable, and responsible. But when it came to you, it was different. You’re the softest thing in his life, a delicate presence that soothes the storm within him. Your shy nature makes you easy to shelter, easy to protect. You don’t argue when he keeps you close, don’t push when he subtly alters your life to fit his vision of safety.

You needed him. It was obvious.

How easy it is for you to let him take care of everything. How naturally you let him lead you through crowds, shielding you from eyes that linger too long. How your voice wavers when you say his name, like you’re unsure you’re allowed to. You are. You’re allowed to do anything with him. But no one else. And that’s the problem. Because he notices the way people don’t hesitate to approach you, knowing you won’t push them away. That man at the gala who leaned too close. The colleague who placed a hand on your shoulder. The waiter who smiled too much. He finds your timidity utterly enchanting. The way you hesitate before speaking, the way your gaze flits downward when he holds your chin, how you stammer under his scrutiny—it feeds something deep inside him. You need him, even if you don’t realize it yet. Bruce never gets frustrated with your shyness. If anything, he finds it ideal. You aren’t reckless. You aren’t difficult. You’re perfectly moldable. His perfect little doll. You don’t have to worry about the outside world anymore. Gotham is dangerous. Men look at you too long, the world is too harsh, and Bruce knows what’s best for you. He’s a provider by nature, and now you belong to him, his fragile little thing. You won’t even notice when your life shrinks—how he’s always there, subtly guiding you into dependency. He’s a master at making his control feel natural. It’s for your own good, sweetheart.

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

Dick is obsessive in the purest sense. He’s everywhere—hovering, smothering, watching. He doesn’t just want to own you; he wants to drown in you, breathe you. You’re so shy, so quiet—and it drives him crazy. Every time you flinch under his overwhelming affection, every time your voice dies in your throat because he’s just too much, he melts. "Aw, sweetheart, don’t be shy. It’s just me." But he loves it. He loves how you tremble when he hugs you too tight, how your voice wavers when you try to refuse him. It makes him feel powerful—knowing he’s the only one who gets to see these pieces of you. At first, he tries to ease you into his intensity. But the longer he’s around you, the more agitated he becomes. Why are you still flinching? Why do you shy away when he’s the safest place you could ever be? The frustration isn’t with you. It’s with the world. Did someone teach you to be afraid? Who hurt you? He wants to rip them apart. He wants to keep you forever. So, he keeps pushing. The cuddles become longer. The touches linger. The kisses are too frequent, too intimate, but he brushes off your hesitance. "Come on, angel, don’t be like that. I just wanna be close." And when you still shy away? When you still look uncertain even after everything? He just pulls you tighter, cooing into your ear. "You’ll get used to me, baby. You’ll see."

— JASON TODD ⋆

At first, your timid nature makes him incredibly soft with you. You’re so meek, so gentle—and that means you need someone to keep you safe, right? You need someone who won’t let the world chew you up. Jason adores your shyness. The way you shrink under his gaze, the way you hesitate before speaking—it makes him feel needed. But as time passes, his patience wears thin. Why won’t you trust him? Why do you still tense when he holds you? He’s here to protect you, damn it. He’d kill for you. The worst part? You’re so sweet that you don’t even fight back. Your soft apologies, your nervous glances—they’re infuriating. He doesn’t want your fear, he wants your adoration. But Jason is impatient. And when you keep shying away, keep hesitating—he starts getting rougher. Not in a way that hurts, never that. But his hands linger longer, his grip tightens, his voice drops into something more desperate. "Stop bein’ so scared of me, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you." He doesn’t realize how terrifying he can be. How his sheer size, his intensity, can make your heart race in a way that isn’t just flustered affection. But he doesn’t want you to be afraid. He just wants you to be his, to love him. So he softens again. He makes up for his outbursts. He coaxes you into his arms, murmuring apologies against your skin. "I just want you to feel safe, doll. You are safe. Just let me take care of you." He’ll never let go.

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

Damian sees your shyness as a flaw—a weakness in need of fixing. You’re too soft for this world, too easily pushed aside, and he simply cannot allow it. At first, he tolerates it. He even finds it charming. The way you lower your gaze, the way your voice barely rises above a whisper—it’s a novelty. He enjoys watching you struggle for words, enjoys the way you shrink in his presence. But soon, it frustrates him. "You must learn to speak when addressed, beloved. Do not make me repeat myself." He doesn’t understand why you hesitate, why you fear expressing yourself. And it makes him mad. Not at you, never at you—but at the world that made you this way. So, he takes control. He begins teaching you. He holds your chin between gloved fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. He corrects you when you stammer, urges you to speak up when your voice wavers. "Again. Say it again—this time, with confidence." But he adores how pliant you are. The way you listen, the way you try to please him—it soothes something primal inside him. He’s training you, molding you into something worthy of standing beside him. And yet… there’s a part of him that likes the way you tremble when he raises his voice. The way your breath catches when he leans in too close. The way your small hands clutch at his sleeves when he pulls you in. Perhaps… you don’t need fixing after all. Perhaps you just need him to be the voice you lack. "Very well, my love. If you refuse to speak, I will simply do it for you." And from then on, Damian owns every decision you make.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, repost or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[transmaverique]

[img id

screenshots of a portion of the linked work. reads as follows:

“I hated that essay,” he says to me, “about femmes who care for you when you travel; I really hated it.” And when I ask why he tells me that he thinks it sounds like all butches should be soothed by femmes, and vice versa; he says, “Why would those femmes have assumed that you were a butch who liked femmes?” He says, “Maybe you’re a faggot butch, did they even consider that?” He says, “I know you’re not just for femmes.”

That’s what he says, but I know what he’s thinking. And even though I know how dangerous it is to assume I know what someone is thinking, I know this butch maybe as well as I know myself, and he’s thinking, “Fuck you, for having it easy even in being queer. Fuck you for going along on your happy little way to San Francisco and finding a bunch of femmes who see you as a big stud-duck butch and just want to pour themselves through your fingers. It’s just as hard to be a faggot butch as it is to be any kind of fag.”

There’s all that masculinity to consider when you want to rub up against someone, like that old joke about porcupines:

How do porcupines mate? Very carefully.

He’s saying, “I want to show up at brunch someplace and assume that anyone who I want to flirt with will want to flirt back, and will do it, will want to, without fear of recrimination from hir community. I want you to put something in that book of yours for me. I am a butch whose identity, sexual or otherwise, has nothing to do with femmes. They are not my natural partners in this gender crime the way they are yours. I wake and sleep in the arms of butches like me, butches who understand a whole host of things about my life, my world, the way I see things, the way things affect me that no one else could understand. Write about us. Write that we have sweet, hot sex in which no one has to put on a pair of panties, or take them off; write about how good it feels when ze fucks me hard, so hard. Write about how it feels to fall asleep with the weight of a butch on you, one tattooed arm and one furry leg pinning you down and grounding you in your sleep.

“Write about all the ways in which butches care for each other, comfort each other. Write about how we understand all the shit that comes in the world for our partners and salve it as best we can, about how I have all the more respect for hir because of all I know it takes to survive as a butch.

“Write about how, as soon as butches were no longer the scourge of dykedom for aping masculinity, or whatever that baloney was, it became faggot butches who were scorned and derided. Everyone understands butch/femme because it seems familiar, like Ozzie and Harriet but with better hair and more pussy. Everyone understands femme on femme, even though you don’t see it all that often cause it doesn’t read queer, you know, but it’s in the first images of ‘lesbian love’ most of us see, in porn or on television. Two longhaired pretty girls smooching in a daring fashion wherever they happen to be. No one’s threatened by that, not the dykes, not the men, nobody, but if I want to kiss my butch anywhere, I’d better be damn sure of my audience, or better yet, be sure we don’t have one.

“I can be a butch without opening doors for girls,” he’s saying. “I can do it even if I follow while dancing, I can do it without spending my Saturday afternoons as a femme’s shopping bottom at the mall and do. I am. I am honorable, I take good care of the people I love as well as I possibly can; I watch out for my community. I have a butch heart full of love that I can express when I feel safe enough; I walk in the world resisting gender norms and transgressing gender rules, transcending them. I am fixing whatever I can, whenever I can, and I laugh, and play, and let the spaces in my masculinity show, just like you, just like every butch. I get all slicked up for a date in a suit and tie and I pick up my date, also in a suit and tie, and we just open the door if we get to it first and we take turns paying, and it doesn’t make me less a butch. It doesn’t make me less of anything. It doesn’t mean that I don’t think femmes are swell, I surely do, but they are not my salvation when I travel, they are not the North of my heart’s compass. That’s butches for me, and I will always go a little weak when I see someone who looks scared and hardened and delighted and ashamed and proud—proud, just like me.

“You’re writing a book? Of course, I’m glad, but don’t chicken out. Don’t write a book that speaks so many volumes about your adoration for femmes that it leaves out the ways in which I know you cherish butches too. Yes, not the same way as you cherish femmes, entirely differently, butches and femmes are different creatures, sure, but I don’t just mean how glad you are and always will be to have butch brothers, a butch tribe. I mean, make sure you don’t forget to mention that you put butches on their knees in front of you and enjoy them, that you kneel down too, that you sit sometimes stunned by how much you want to lick a buzz cut or a hot tattoo, that you know what a great grace it is to fall asleep next to a butch’s heart and muscle and skin and ink and fur, that you understand how wonderful it can be to feel butch arms around you. Make sure you mention me, make sure you give me and my lovers and my life the same benefit of some of your words, make sure you don’t write another book that leaves us on the cutting-room floor. Give us a place on the landscape, help us become visible. Say this: Say that when butches love butches they hold lightning between them, but that as much as it burns it also illuminates. That it’s the sweetest burn I’ve ever known in my life of searing pain, that it keeps me from feeling the flames of the world’s hate licking the soles of my boots, that I hold it in my heart and it fuels me every day. Say that it shows me things I could never see any other way, that without it I would grow cold and die. Say that there is nothing else I would rather be.”

/end id]

butch is a noun, s. bear bergman 2006

[l0vergirlwrites]

hidden talents ; spencer reid

synopsis: during a cozy night in with spencer, you both reveal your hidden talents to one another.

warnings: established relationship with fem!reader, silly hidden talents, so much fluff i could die, kissing & sweet touches, season 6 spencer in mind lowkey

note: i wrote this while listening to ‘north’ by clairo!

another note: i promise i’m working on the requests in my asks box! just taking longer than normal (reminder that requests are open!)

it had been a particularly cold day for the east coast, the arctic mass of freezing air drifted all the way into the apartment in dc where spencer & you reside, freshly showered under warm streams of water, dressed in pyjamas under a few extra blankets for good measure.

nights like this were rare—uninterrupted moments shared with just him & you, his left hand caressing one of your thighs under the blankets while his right one held a special cover version of steinbeck’s east of eden in his lap.

you were busy drawing patterns into the fuzz of the top blanket, right cheek pressed into spencer’s left arm as you drew leaves, flowers, & swirly symbols, watching the blanket leave shiny remnants of your artwork. a tv show you had started binging played softly on the medium sized tv spencer mounted on the wall last month, but you were growing bored.

“do you have any hidden talents?” you randomly asked once you lowered the tv’s volume more, placing the remote back on the nightstand before turning to spencer.

he gave you a quirked brow under his glasses, sliding his bookmark to where he left off before shutting the hardcover. “i don’t know. does having three phd’s & an affinity for magic tricks count?”

with a shake of your head & a chuckle, your right hand propped your head up on the pillows, free hand rubbing spencer’s bicep in a cruelly sweet way.

“people—including me—already know those things, silly” you pointed out, gasping when he squeezed your thigh in a funny spot. it didn’t hurt, just made you smile wider.

“c’mon, there has to be something you’ve kept hidden under your sleeve” you pleaded, tummy turning when spencer looked at you with those puppy dog eyes of his.

you were swooning hard.

but he’d argue that he was swooning harder.

“let me think…” he pouted his lips in thought, genuinely wracking his brain for something to appease you.

“i can talk with my mouth closed” he blurted, turning back to you & seeing your intrigued gaze.

“like jessie j?”.

“yes, like jessie j”.

“show me!” you demanded with excitement, sitting up a little straighter for the big reveal.

closing his mouth, you watched spencer say a few sentences with his mouth completely closed, his lips shut tight like they were glued together. the face he was making was silly & cute, & you were genuinely shocked at how clear you could hear him talking.

clapping lightly with delight, you scooted closer to him (as if you weren’t already tucked into his side like a magnet), cheering him on for his cool talent.

“how have you kept this hidden from me for five years? five whole years?!” you teased, seeing the effect you had on him live when his neck & cheeks grew pink & hot.

ducking his head, spencer shrugged. “it never came up”.

“you’re forgiven” you kissed spencer’s cheek, kissing it again when he leaned closer for another. you’d give him all the kisses in the world anyways.

“so, what about you? what’s your hidden talent?” he squeezed your thigh again, ready for you to reciprocate with something exciting.

“i can make a trumpet sound with my mouth”.

“really?”.

“you don’t believe me?” you faked surprised hurt.

“i’ll believe it when i see it, sweetheart” he teased, his chest tightening when you scrunched your nose a little with a smile.

that action always made him swoon somehow.

“okay, okay,” you rubbed his bicep again, preparing yourself. “but don’t look at me at first, or else i’ll start laughing & ruin it. please”.

at least you were polite.

with eyes closed, spencer patiently waited, & when he heard the trumpet like sound come from your lips, his eyes automatically opened in intrigue. because how did it sound at least sixty-percent like the real thing?

you proudly trumpeted the tune of ella fitzgerald’s song ‘at last’, some notes were off key but the heart was there. & spencer was amazed.

“that sure beats my talent by a long shot” he clapped too, laughing when you cupped your hurting cheeks. smiling too much hurt in the best way.

“you should do that at parties sometime” he teased lovingly, pulling you to his chest so he could feel your laugh vibrate through his skin.

lifting your head back up after a moment, feeling his hand drift through your hair, you played squinted. “you think you’re so funny, spence…”.

the look in his eyes was all gentle, the lamp light beside him casting a little honey glow to them. “you’ve always said you loved my jokes”.

you sighed, letting your face fall back to the cotton pyjama shirt he wore, unable to hide the fuzziness growing inside you. “i do”.

his looks were killer, sending your body into a frenzy of love & jittery emotions—the good type of jittery.

“are you too tired to read me some steinbeck?” you asked after a moment of content silence, his hands musing your hair while one of yours drew patterns onto the crook of his neck.

“never” he replied happily, letting yourself get comfortable on his chest before reaching for the book on the nightstand.

“wait”.

before spencer could grab it, your lips meshed with his, eyes shutting immediately as his hands cupped your cheeks, falling down the hedge maze of your touch before pulling away, his lips pressing two kisses on each cheek good measure.

“i’m never gonna get tired of that” you murmured as you got comfortable again, lips tingling from mingling with his. you’ve kissed spencer millions of times by now, but every kiss feels like the first—addictively sweet.

spencer clearly felt the same, because he couldn’t help but peck a few kisses to your forehead before opening the book to pick up where he left off.

his murmur of “me either” confirmed it too.

[cumironi]

BROOO????

featuring. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna

sum. bro? broooo? right, call your boyfriend with bro and see how their reaction goes. it’s either you get bullied or . . . . bullied? maybe, how about you just find out?

warning. established relationship! jjk men, fluff, crack, suggestive word/tone, teasing, petname(s), pervert! gojo, non-curse! sukuna, sp!nk.

#GOJO SATORU

you leaned against the railing of the training ground, arms crossed as your students trained their asses off. it was a usual day—your morning started with a little… distraction in gojo’s teacher’s room before class, where he had you pressed against his desk, lips molding against yours in a slow, teasing kiss that left you breathless. he was always such a tease, hands ghosting over your waist, tugging you closer, only to pull away with that smug grin of his.

but now, hours had passed, and you hadn’t seen him since.

you let out a quiet sigh, your eyes flickering across the training ground—not really watching your students, more so scanning the area for a certain white-haired menace. where the hell was he? usually, he’d find an excuse to bother you by now, whether it was sneaking into your class, interrupting your lectures with ridiculous questions, or simply appearing out of nowhere just to remind everyone that you were his.

but today? nothing.

your foot tapped against the ground impatiently.

“sensei?”

you snapped out of your thoughts, turning your gaze to one of your students, who was sweating from their training. “huh?”

“you weren’t even watching, were you?” they accused, panting.

you scoffed. “of course, i was.” you weren’t.

after what felt like an eternity of standing around, watching your students struggle through their training session, you finally dismissed them. the moment the last one left, you let out a sigh, dragging your feet down the wooden hallway, exhaustion weighing on your limbs. your body moved on autopilot, your mind still mildly irritated at the fact that gojo had been missing all damn day.

rounding a corner, you finally spotted him.

there he was, casually strolling toward you like he hadn’t been MIA for hours. still in his uniform, broad shoulders stretching the fabric just enough to make it unfair, his blindfold firmly in place. that same damn smugness clung to him like a second skin, a smirk already forming as he saw you.

you rolled your eyes. “bro.”

his smirk instantly vanished.

“bro?” he repeated, stopping in his tracks like you had just stabbed him in the chest. his brows furrowed beneath his blindfold, his lips pulling into an actual frown.

“bro? seriously?” his voice dripped with disbelief. “what happened to ‘babe’ or ‘love’ or even ‘annoying menace’—but bro?”

you shrugged, enjoying how genuinely offended he sounded. “i call you ‘bro’ one time and you lose your mind?”

his frown deepened. not only was he offended, but he was also deeply wounded by your choice of words. “one time?” he scoffs, crossing his arms defiantly.

“one time?” he repeats, as if the mere thought of using a term of endearment is unfathomable to him. “you literally just called me ‘bro’ and it feels like an insult after everything we went through. i’m the one who gets you coffee in the morning, the one who stays up watching you fall asleep, the one who listens to your rants about your students—and what do i get in return?”

you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to respond as you walked past him, but just to piss him off, you muttered, “bro.”

his jaw dropped.

“again?” he spluttered, spinning around to face you like you had just committed the ultimate betrayal. “again?!” you didn’t stop, didn’t even acknowledge the way he dramatically clutched his chest like he’d been physically wounded. you could feel his glare burning into your back as you kept walking.

“you do realize you’re breaking my heart right now, right?” he mumbled, taking a few large steps after you, trying to keep up with your longer stride.

“my heart!” he continued, his expression turning from annoyance to pure distress. “my poor, fragile, romantic heart is crumbling with every ‘bro’ that escapes your lips.”

you just rolled your eyes again, slowing your pace for a moment to listen to his dramatic whining. his expression grew even more pitiful as he took in your indifference.

“not even a little sympathy? a single ounce of empathy for the pain you're causing me?” the dramatic flair in his voice was undeniable. “i pour my heart into every ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love’ i send your way, and you respond with a cold, emotionless ‘bro’? it’s like you don’t even care.”

you chuckled at his dramatic flair, watching as he took your arms and wrapped them around his waist, effectively trapping you against him. before you could protest, he curled his own arms around your body, pulling you in close.

then, without hesitation, he leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your cheek. “i missed you,” he mumbled, voice softer now, the teasing edge fading just slightly.

you hummed, your fingers absentmindedly grazing over the fabric of his uniform jacket. you tilted your head up, meeting his hidden gaze through his blindfold, lips curling into a smirk.

“really bro?” you asked, your tone teasing, playful.

despite the banter, your touch sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he found himself leaning into your touch, his grip on you tightening.

he rolled his eyes, though the effect was ruined by the way his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. “oh, for God’s sake, will you stop that?” he huffed, averting his gaze. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

you just chuckled, enjoying every second of having him wrapped around your little finger. “you love it,” you retorted, a sly grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

the pink in his cheeks deepened at your words, the truth in them a bitter pill to swallow. “don’t flatter yourself,” he mumbled, feigning nonchalance. “i just tolerate you, that’s all.”

he tried to sound casual, but his grip on you gave him away—he tightened his hold, his body practically molding against yours like they were two puzzle pieces fitting together.

you frowned, your hands reaching up without hesitation, fingers hooking under the edge of his blindfold. before he could react, you pushed it up over his head, revealing those twinkling blue eyes that always held a mischievous glint.

his gaze met yours, amusement flickering across his features.

and then, without a shred of mercy, you deadpanned—

“bro.”

gojo’s entire expression shattered.

“are you serious right now?” he sputtered, his voice rising in disbelief. “i just— we just— you’re ruining the moment!”

his hands dramatically flew to his chest like you had stabbed him right through the heart. “my love, my darling, my light, and this is how you treat me?”

you just shrugged. “what? it felt appropriate.”

“appropriate?” his voice cracked. “you just looked into my soul and hit me with a ‘bro’ like i’m one of your students?”

his grip on your waist tightened, as if trying to shake the disrespect out of you. “take it back,” he demanded, his lips dangerously close to yours now, his tone low and warning. “right now.”

you tilted your head, pretending to think. “hmm... nah.”

his eye twitched. “alright, that’s it.”

before you could react, he scooped you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. “bro?!” you gasped, kicking your legs as he started walking.

“oh, now you care?” he scoffed. “too late. you’ve lost boyfriend privileges. i’m not putting you down until you apologize properly.”

#GETO SUGURU

geto was the picture of peace, sitting in the living room with a book in hand, his long fingers idly turning the pages as he sipped his tea. the warm glow of the lamp beside him cast soft shadows over his face, his expression calm and utterly relaxed. it was one of those rare, quiet moments where he could just exist without gojo’s antics or your teasing.

until you ruined it.

without warning, you flopped down beside him, jostling his arm slightly as you leaned in, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“whatchu reading, bro?”

his fingers twitched against the book cover.

his peaceful moment? shattered.

slowly, he turned his head, dark eyes narrowing as he stared at you, unamused. “did you just—”

“bro,” you repeated, grinning as you nuzzled against his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

geto inhaled sharply through his nose, closing his book with an exaggerated amount of patience. he placed it down on the coffee table beside his tea, his movements slow, deliberate.

“do you have a death wish?” he finally asked, his voice eerily calm.

you hummed, acting like you didn’t hear the warning in his tone. “nah, just curious. what’s got you so focused, bro?”

his eye twitched.

without another word, he reached up and flicked your forehead. not too hard, but enough to make you recoil with a small yelp.

“ow—”

“that’s what you get,” he muttered, picking his book back up. but his lips twitched, betraying the faintest hint of amusement.

you rubbed your forehead with a pout, but instead of leaving, you just leaned against him harder, slumping your full weight onto his side.

“you’re so mean, bro.”

geto let out another long sigh, his shoulders slumping as you leaned your full weight against him, effectively trapping him. he glanced down at you, his expression somewhere between annoyance and resignation.

“i was reading. until a certain pest decided to invade my personal space,” he grumbled, trying to continue reading, his book held awkwardly around you clinging to his arm. he rolled his eyes, his fingers tightening around the spine of the book in his hand. you were like a barnacle, determined to stick to him like glue. “can i not have five minutes of peace without you bothering me?” he grumbled, his irritation clear. he tried to shrug you off, attempting to read his book again, but you just clung to him tighter. you chuckled at his response, clearly unconcerned with his growing irritation. you shifted your position, snuggling closer against his side, your head resting on his shoulder once more.

geto let out a low growl, his hand hovering over his book, momentarily torn between swatting you away and attempting to read. he finally huffed, dropping his book entirely and shooting you a glare. “is there a reason why you’re clinging to me like a barnacle? or do you just enjoy being a nuisance?”

you hummed in response, the vibration of your voice barely muffled against his shoulder. “i miss my bro.” before he could process your words, you tilted your head slightly and pressed a quick, playful kiss against his cheek, the warmth of your lips lingering for just a second before you pulled away with a grin.

geto roll his eyes yet his arm snake around your waist. you quick kiss against his cheek left him momentarily baffled, his brain short-circuiting for a moment. he barely registered his own arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer without his conscious permission.

he tried to scoff, to play it off as a reflex, but the way his fingers tightened slightly around your side betrayed his true thoughts. “you’re insufferable,” he muttered, no real venom in his voice. beneath his irritation, there was a hint of fondness in his eyes as he looked at you, his grip around your waist still firm. he wanted to be annoyed, wanted to push you away and reclaim his personal space, but the feeling of your body pressed against his was oddly comforting while you just gave him your stupidly cute and sweet smile.

he let out a sigh, resigning himself to his fate. “seriously, is being annoying your only personality trait?” he inquired, a hint of dry amusement in his voice. you let out a loud, exaggerated groan, pulling your head away from his shoulder to glare at him. your lips twisted into a pout, eyes narrowing like you were deeply offended by his words. for a moment, you just stared at him in silence, letting the tension build.

then, without warning, you grabbed his face with both hands and aggressively planted a loud, obnoxious kiss on his cheek, making a dramatic smooching sound as you did.

“i love you, bro.”

geto physically flinched. “for the love of—”

before he could fully react, you wrapped your arms tighter around him, pulling him into a death grip that left no room for escape. his book nearly tumbled out of his lap as you all but crushed yourself against him, your head immediately finding its way back to his shoulder. your sudden, dramatic display of affection caught him off guard, leaving him momentarily stunned and barely had a chance to protest.

he tried to maintain some level of composure, but his attempts at irritation were growing weaker. he grumbled under his breath, feigning annoyance as he awkwardly patted your back.

“you are the most insufferable— why are you—” he sputtered, his brain struggling to form a coherent sentence as you held him hostage in your embrace.

#NANAMI KENTO

the sound of sizzling filled the kitchen as you stirred the pan, the rich aroma of dinner wafting through the air. the evening was peaceful, the soft hum of the overhead fan blending with the occasional clatter of kitchen utensils. you had already prepared a small plate of snacks to hold you over until dinner was ready, setting it on the counter absentmindedly.

just as you reached for a seasoning jar, you heard the quiet shuffle of footsteps approaching. the scent of freshly showered skin and warm soap filled the space before a large hand reached over, casually plucking a piece from the snack plate. “you should really eat properly instead of snacking before dinner, love,” nanami remarked, his voice smooth yet firm, though there was a trace of warmth in it.

you turned to look at him, and your eyes landed on the sight before you—nanami standing there in nothing but a pair of loose shorts, his damp hair slightly tousled, a towel draped over his shoulders. the dim kitchen lighting made the water droplets on his skin glisten, emphasizing the sharp lines of his toned physique.

your gaze flickered up to his face, and without much thought, you let out a nonchalant, “bro.”

nanami froze mid-chew.

the air in the kitchen seemed to shift. the man, who always carried himself with unwavering confidence, suddenly looked… unsettled. his brow furrowed slightly, his chewing slowed, and his grip on the towel around his neck unconsciously tightened.

“...what?” he asked, his tone calm, but there was something almost fragile about it.

you turned back to your cooking, oblivious to the internal crisis unraveling beside you. “i said, bro.”

nanami blinked. his heart started to race, a creeping anxiety settling in his chest. his mind spiraled almost immediately—had he done something wrong? were you upset? had he missed something important? no, that couldn't be. just this morning, you had kissed him goodbye, calling him “love” like you always did.

but now? now he was bro?

he swallowed the bite of food, but it suddenly felt dry in his throat. “did… did i do something?” his voice was quieter now, laced with hesitation.

you finally turned to look at him again, noticing the tense way he was holding himself—the crease in his forehead, the slight downturn of his lips. nanami kento, the most unshakable man you knew, looked nervous.

you raised an eyebrow. “huh?”

he exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. “you always call me something else. sweetheart. darling. love.” he hesitated, then muttered, almost painfully, “but bro?”

your lips twitched. oh. oh, this was gold.

leaning closer, you rested your elbow on the counter, tilting your head at him. “so? what’s wrong with bro, bro?”

nanami visibly flinched.

his jaw clenched, his grip on the towel tightening even further. “please stop.”

you grinned, thoroughly enjoying this rare moment of seeing him slightly rattled. “aw, come on. don’t be dramatic, bro.”

he inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, trying���desperately—to maintain his composure. his ears were faintly red now, and you could practically see the way he was restraining himself from launching into a speech about respect and proper terms of endearment between engaged couples.

finally, after a long pause, he muttered under his breath, “this is worse than gojo.”

that made you burst into laughter.

and despite his suffering, despite the distress in his heart, the sound of your laughter eased some of his tension.

but still—“just call me darling again, please.”

#TOJI FUSHIGURO

the soft glow of the tv flickered across the dimly lit apartment as you lay sprawled on the couch, halfheartedly watching some mind-numbing reality show. the overly dramatic arguments and fake sob stories were more background noise than actual entertainment, but you were too lazy to find something better.

just as you were contemplating whether to switch to another show or accept your fate of watching people embarrass themselves on national television, the door swung open with a casual creak.

toji.

he strolled in like he owned the place, which, to be fair, he acted like he did despite having zero claim to your apartment. his heavy footsteps echoed against the floor as he entered, hands stuffed into the pockets of his dark sweatpants, his hoodie slightly loose over his broad frame. his expression was unreadable—bored, maybe a little mischievous, definitely up to no good.

you barely spared him a glance, lazily tilting your head in his direction. “bro.”

toji stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow. “bro?”

before you could process the look on his face, he moved.

you didn’t even have time to react before all of toji fushiguro—the human brick wall, the walking mountain of muscle, the absolute menace of a man—came crashing down on top of you.

“bro, what the fuck—”

your words were immediately cut off by the sheer weight of him pressing you deeper into the couch, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

“jesus fucking christ—” you wheezed, arms flailing as you struggled under his insane bulk. his entire body was just there, a solid mass of unnecessary muscle crushing you into the cushions. you swore you could feel your ribs creaking.

toji, the absolute asshole that he was, let out a slow, exaggerated sigh, completely relaxing his entire body on top of you, going boneless.

all of his weight. every last pound of him. just sinking onto you.

“toji, get the fuck off!” you gritted out, trying to push against his shoulders. it was like trying to shove a boulder.

he hummed, as if deep in thought. “nah.”

“toji.”

“hm?”

“i can’t fucking breathe, bro.”

“damn. that’s crazy.”

the audacity.

you growled, thrashing as much as you could, but he just chuckled against your hair, zero intention of moving. in fact, the more you struggled, the more he settled in, like he was perfectly content to use your body as his personal mattress.

“y’know,” he mused, arms lazily wrapping around you, “this couch ain’t bad. kinda comfy. but you? even better.”

“you’re a fucking menace.”

he grinned, resting his chin on the top of your head. “yeah, yeah. keep talking, bro.”

you let out a suffering groan, limbs going limp in defeat. this was your life now. “so, whatcha doing?” toji drawled, his voice low and deep in your ear. he hadn’t moved off of you, his weight still pinning you to the couch like a human blanket.

you were too exhausted to protest anymore, your body aching from the pressure. “watching tv,” you grumbled, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

he hummed, the rumble in his chest making your body vibrate. “looks boring,” he muttered, reaching for the remote. with one hand, he flicked through the channels, his other arm still securely around your waist.

you rolled your eyes, too drained to fight him off any longer. he shifted slightly, pressing his head against yours until your cheeks were practically glued together, his warmth seeping into your skin as you two watch the tv.

with a tired sigh, you let yourself sink further into the couch, resigning to your fate. “you’re boring, bro,” you grumbled, voice tinged with playful irritation.

“ah, ah, ah,” he scolded, his breath ghosting over your cheek. “careful, bro, your smart mouth's gonna get you in trouble.”

he didn’t sound particularly menacing, but the slight hint of a warning in his voice was still tangible and you didn’t bother to respond. you could feel him grinning against your cheek, his fingers absently drawing lazy circles over your hip. his broad form practically enveloping yours, his heat seeping into your body and making you feel oddly sleepy.

he had finally found a movie to put on— something stupid that neither of you were really paying attention to. “you’re comfy, bro,” he muttered, his voice low with a slight hint of exhaustion. his hold on you tightened, pulling you just a little bit closer against him.

you grumbled, lifting a weak hand to swat at his arm in protest. “stop calling me bro,” you mumbled, your voice slightly muffled against his cheek.

toji only chuckled, entirely unfazed by your feeble attempt at resistance. “what’s wrong, bro? doesn’t feel so good when it’s thrown back at ya?” he teased, his grip on you tightening as if to make sure you couldn't escape.

you sighed, rolling your eyes but making no real effort to move away. “you’re insufferable.”

“yeah, yeah,” he muttered, lazily patting your hip. “but you’re still not movin’.”

#RYOMEN SUKUNA

you arrived at sukuna’s apartment after class, kicking the door shut behind you as you dropped your bag carelessly onto the floor. stepping into his dimly lit bedroom, you found him sprawled out on his bed, clad in nothing but a pair of boxers, eyes glued to his phone.

without hesitation, you climbed onto the bed, flopping down beside him and draping yourself over his warm, solid frame. “i miss you, bro. you’re so comfortable,” you sighed dramatically, nuzzling against him like he was a human-sized pillow.

sukuna’s fingers froze mid-scroll. his eye twitched. slowly, he turned his head to glare at you. “what the fuck did you just call me?”

sukuna’s eye twitched again, and his grip on his phone tightened like he was seconds away from crushing it. “bro?” he repeated, his voice flat, dangerously unimpressed. you bit back a grin, fully aware of what you were doing. “yeah, bro,” you said innocently, snuggling in closer, your arms wrapping around his waist. “you’re warm. good for cuddling.”

his nostrils flared. “i am not your bro.”

“you kinda are,” you mused, resting your head against his chest. his skin was hot under your cheek, his heartbeat steady but just a little faster than usual. “bro? really?” sukuna growled under his breath, his annoyance obvious in his tone. but it was difficult for him to stay mad when you were snuggling up against him so comfortably, using his chest as a pillow.

“i swear to god, if i ever hear that word come out of your mouth again, i will murder you,” he threatened, but his hand was already gravitating towards your back, fingers splaying over your spine, tracing a lazy pattern on your skin.

you hummed in response, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers absentmindedly traced up and down his bare stomach, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath your touch.

“bro, you’re mean,” you mumbled, your voice soft with drowsiness.

sukuna let out a sharp exhale, his grip on your waist tightening. “what did i just say?” he muttered, glaring down at you, but his voice lacked any real bite.

your hand continued its slow, lazy movements, your fingertips ghosting over his skin, sending small sparks of warmth through his body. he clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the way his stomach tensed beneath your touch.

“you really testing me today, huh?” he muttered, his fingers pressing into your back just a little harder, like he was debating whether to push you away or pull you closer. you only hummed again, completely unbothered, snuggling in deeper against his chest. “shhh, i’m trying to sleep, bro.”

your hum of contentment barely had time to settle before sukuna moved, his patience snapping like a brittle thread. in a blink, he had you flipped over, your stomach pressed against his thighs, hips raised in the air as his large hand settled firmly on your lower back.

“what the fuck—” you started, twisting to look over your shoulder, only to be met with his wicked grin.

“i warned you.” his voice was slow, deliberate, his palm smoothing over the curve of your hip before trailing down to your thigh. “but you just love pushing your luck, don’t you?”

you swallowed, heat rushing up your neck as you tried to move, but his grip was firm, keeping you exactly where he wanted. his fingers trailed lazily over your skin, a teasing contrast to the sharpness in his tone.

“say ‘bro’ one more time.” sukuna dared, voice dripping with amusement as he leaned down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “see what happens.” your breath caught in your throat as he spoke, a thrill shooting down your spine as you felt the weight of his body over yours. his fingers continued their slow, taunting path over your thigh, inching higher with an excruciating slowness.

“are you gonna behave now?” sukuna’s voice was a low, rough purr, his breath warm against your neck. his fingers were just barely ghosting over your skin now, so close to the edge of your skirt you thought you’d go insane. “or are you gonna keep being a smartass?” his hand suddenly grabbed your chin, tilting your head back to look at him.

you huffed dramatically, rolling your eyes even as heat burned at the back of your neck. “it’s just ‘bro,’” you grumbled, shifting slightly against his lap.

his grip on your chin tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make your breath hitch. his eyes darkened, amusement flickering through the crimson depths as his smirk stretched wider. “just ‘bro,’ huh?” he echoed, tilting his head like he was truly considering your words.

then, without warning, he flip your skirt up and his palm came down on your ass—a sharp, stinging slap that had you jolting forward against his thighs.

“wanna say that again?” sukuna drawled, his hand lazily rubbing over the spot he just smacked, his touch infuriatingly gentle in contrast. “or do i need to remind you how to address me properly?”

sukuna chuckled as your hips rocked back reflexively from the sting. he knew exactly how to push your buttons, and the way you squirmed in his lap, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, was like catnip to him.

he ran his palm slowly over the spot again, his fingers trailing over the skin just under the hem of your boxers. “you know,” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement, “i’ve gotten pretty good at teaching lessons lately.”

his other hand moved to your hip, gripping you tightly as he continued speaking. “think you could learn how to behave if i gave you a few more lessons?” he finished, his hand sliding lower, fingers tracing the seam of your boxers. his touch was almost tentative, a stark contrast to the rough treatment from before, and it left your breath hitching, your heart thumping almost painfully.

his grip tightened as you squirmed again, his fingers digging into your hip in a silent warning to keep still. his knee shifted, nudging between your legs, pressing your thighs against his. he was so close to your core, his breath warm and steady against your exposed ear.

“maybe i should be less gentle,” sukuna murmured, his lips right at your ear. “you’re not taking my lesson very seriously.”

his hand came down again, another sharp slap against your skin. not hard enough to really hurt, but hard enough to make you gasp.

[yourmidnightlover]

grumpy!bucky x sunshine!reader where sunshine reader turns out to be the dominant one in bed

this is just filth.

warnings: handjob, dirty talk? (reader)

bucky never expected this from you. from your sweet, innocent smile. the way you giggle, even at steve’s jokes that are never really that funny. there was no way he could guess that you would be taking him apart like a damn lincoln log set.

“does that feel good, jamie?” you tease him as you work his cock. you knew the effect you were having on him

sitting on the couch in his apartment - a couch you insisted that he get so you could comfortably cuddle while watching movies together - you poised on his lap, just on the edge of his thighs. what had started as a makeout session has now turned into something much more heated.

having been together for nearly 4 months and still not done the deed, mostly because bucky didn’t want to make it seem like that’s the only thing he wanted you for, bucky was pleasantly surprised when his sweet innocent girlfriend was suddenly taking charge of him.

you were pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck, your hand pressed to his still clothed cock. his hands were roaming from your waist to your back to the back of your head, wanting to touch all of you, feel all of you.

“so-oh shit,” bucky nearly fucking whimpers. this strong, beefy super soldier, turning into putty in your small hands.

the team was so fooled. you would bake cookies for them every week. on missions, you never dared to say a single swear word - something steve has come to respect. always wearing the most innocent, frilly little sundresses when you can. and here you are, whispering the dirtiest things in bucky’s ear.

“so hard for me already, baby,” you whisper in his ear, his hips bucking up to press harder against your hand. “and already so eager, too.” you giggle. you fucking giggle.

“please?” he begs. “god, please, sweets,” he whispers oh-so-needy, his hips still rutting into your hand.

“please what?” you take your hand away from his cock. “use your words like a big boy.”

he lets out a frustrated huff as he throws his head back, his hands settling on your waist and gripping you for dear life.

“please touch me?” he asks. “please touch me, please?” his desperation is palpable as his chest rises and falls.

“… here?” you ask, your hands gripping his broad shoulders firmly. he shakes his head. “how about… here?” you move your hands to his hair, gently yanking on his longer locks.

“fuck,” he moans as his head is tilted up, your lips connecting with his neck and leaving the prettiest marks he swears he’s ever seen. he can’t even complain, so lost in your touch, grateful for whatever you were willing to give him.

“or…” you continue to kiss his neck as you trail your hands down to the front of his sweatpants. he lifts his hips to help you push the waistband down. “here,” your hands finally connect with his member, your touch so gentle he wouldn’t even be able to tell if he weren’t so hyper aware of you right now.

he whimpers at the feather-light touch. “yes,” he nods eagerly. “right there, please?” he opens his eyes, looking down to see your small hand wrapped around his member. truth be told, the sight is better than he’s imagined - which he has… a lot.

“so polite for me,” you praise him and his hips rut into your touch. “there we go, baby,” you firmly wrap your hand around him, moving your hands up and down teasingly slow. you give him this smirk, making sure he knew what you were doing.

he moans for you, a debouched, wanton moan. a sound that he’s never elicited in his overextended life on earth. yet, you brought it out of him. he rests his forehead against yours, his hands still gripping your waist but now traveling to your hips. to rest there comfortably.

your hand picks up the pace, gripping him a bit tighter as you sweep your thumb over his leaky tip. “suck a pretty cock, jamie,” you say as you look down. “all mine.”

“yours,” he mimics your words. “all yours, sweets. forever.” he assures you - not that you ever had any doubts.

you pick up the pace, working your hand over his a bit quicker as his breaths come in shorter. his eyes shut as your foreheads remain together; he’s getting close. “so pretty like this,” you praise him. “coming undone for me. being such a good fucking boy, too.” his hips buck up again at the praise, he’s teetering right on the edge, just needing one more push. “finish for me, baby. cum all over my hand. make a dirty fucking mess for me, jamie.”

and he’s gone. his jaw drops as his hips work up to meet your hand, a cry of your name leaving his lips as his come spills from his pretty cock. his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer as you work him through his high.

he swears your the best things that’s ever happened to him. it’s not just this - no. it’s your sweet voice cooing to him when he wakes up from a nightmare when you decide to sleep over. it’s you cooking his favorite meal ‘just because.’ it’s just you, dammit. everything about you made him want to hold you close in his arms and never let you go. he wanted to protect you and guard you with his life. he wanted to marry you - fuck. yeah, yeah. he did want to marry you. he wanted you to have his kids, too. this life-altering realization coming just as he… quite ironic, isn’t it?

[marlynnofmany]

When my official performance is done, the children are still fascinated, and the adults are clearly pretending not to be. Instead of making a dramatic exit or being deliberately boring so they lose interest, I indulge them a bit longer by asking for a drink of water.

I hear the children whispering about it as an adult produces a full glass with a flourish. I guess privately that this was simply teleported from the kitchen, but I accept it with gratitude as if it were the highest quality magicrystal.

With an older set of children, I might have explained the science behind the water, comparing it to their own biology. But these are littles, and I haven't been hired to give lessons, so I simply drink it.

That involves unhinging my jaw and pouring it directly down my throat, which is entertainment enough.

The children make all manner of excited noises. I hand the glass back with polite gratitude, then begin packing up my null stones. By tossing them from one hand to another, then into my bag, of course.

A startled croak from the pond proves to be the frogwing taking to the sky. The kids exclaim about that too. Their eyes aren't as good as mine. They don't see what the frogwing is escaping from. They haven't started screaming yet.

Then the hex eater scuttles into the open and tackles an illusory fairy, and oh, now there is screaming.

Adults are herding the children inside — it won't bite you if you keep your distance; it's just after the magic — while other adults are panicking and calling professionals and casting more magic to lure it away from the house.

The dull black insect the size of a human shoe finishes eating the illusion, and turns toward the beacon of magical energy that is the birthday cake. The glowing, glittering, rainbow of flavors that is surely the envy of all the neighborhood children. An irresistible meal for the land's most notorious pest. If it isn't stopped before gobbling up all the magic on that table, it will turn its sights toward the house, and all the structural enchantments therein.

Adults try magical lightning and other nonsense, though they must know better. It rolls right off. Hex eater carapace is one ingredient in the local variety of null stones.

These creatures are absolute bastards in the wand factory, and there is only one good way to stop them.

While the flock of humans panics around me, I step forward and pitch a null stone with enough force to crush the hex eater into the ground and leave an antimagic crater.

The humans are quiet for just a heartbeat, enough time for me to listen for other scuttling feet and hear none, then the cacophony returns. This time it's amazement, relief, and gratitude.

While they gather around to thank me and shake every hand I've got, I privately add a section on pest control to my resume.

When normal people throw a birthday party for their child, they call in a magician. When magicians throw a birthday party for their child, they call you.

[neovillains]

like a pornstar : gojo satoru ─── click the star for supplemental visuals ( a p!rn link )

amateur pornstar!gojo that makes it big with solo videos on onlyfans. him masturbating on camera, whether it was using a fleshlight or jerking himself off with his fist ( ★ ). he was faceless and it really called in a good fanbase from the start. his viewers loved the mystery, the allure of it all. (they also liked his pretty cock and long it is.)

the more his fanbase grew, the more platforms he continued to build himself on. tiktok, he posted faceless thirst traps and shirtless videos. teasing plenty of women and men with the outline of v-line and strikingly white happy trail. shower videos where water was streaming down his back, he had 5.4 millions likes on one particular one where he nearly flashed people at the last second. (he doesn't understand how the video hasn't been taken down yet.) the popular social media platform only made him bigger.

his instagram comments are all filled with thirsts. and while it's a more mundane approach there, giving people flashes inside his personal life, he has everyone imagining what a future with him would be like.

until he starts bringing someone on camera with him.

no one thinks anything of it yet until they start seeing your face on a regular basis. slowly are his videos no longer solo ones and the title of them always seem to involve you somehow. tiktok videos start including you, you plastering kisses down his neck in the shower, and your bare back is being shown in his get ready with me videos.

you're tagged in each and every one of his videos, and while people would love to hate on you. they can't (because they realize the repercussions is getting blocked by pornstar!gojo himself). they realize that their favorite pornstar is very serious about this relationship and this is not some sort of project. and fuck, the couple videos are so fucking hot ( ★ ).

amateur pornstar!gojo is so serious about you. every thrust inside your aching pussy is laced with love, enjoying the way you cry and mewl around him ( ★ ). and while the envy is still there, it's overwritten with their lust as they can't help but get off to it. even though they can't see your face either, you just seem to be the prettiest person taking amateur pornstar!gojo's cock.

and when one picture is posted one night, it has fans in an uproar. your left ring finger adorned in a simple band and stone that looks so good against your skin tone. when they slide to the next image, it's you and him your wedding attire. the last picture of him laying in between your legs, his back marked up in red as the silk, baby blue sheets cover his bottom half, the internet cries over the events.

later that same evening, a video is posted on twitter. a little snippet of him kissing your sweet pussy and on pornhub and onlyfans, his last video titled, goodbye ( ★ ).

people are disappointed that they've never gotten a face reveal from either one of you.

( subscriptions. ) @r0ckst4rjk @blcknebula @tojirin @clqxuds @dreamingoftomorroww @s-1-xx @lotuslovers @mutsu422 @twinky-wink @levkuna @des-todoroki @for-hearthand-home @nanasukii28 @paintingchoso @strawberriesrule @w2twoo @stargirl-mayaa @ratedrrrr @gojoswaterbottle @princess-vibes25 @ravenbc @inzanekillian @saik-k @sukunaspillow @serendippindots @iveivory @explodingkittensss

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 37 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley delivers some news that has him smiling. While you're exhausted from your pregnancy hormones, you can't seem to get enough of your husband. And he can't get enough of Rose's first Halloween.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, smut, lactation kink

Length: 3300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley didn't want to admit why he couldn't stop smiling on his way to work early the next day. Part of the reason was you, of course. And Rose. And the upcoming Nugget. But a major reason for the grin on his face was the fact that Indigo was about to be grounded for the foreseeable future.

Unsure whether or not he should be the one to inform her about it, Bradley had texted Maverick while you were curled up in bed with him last night. But Mav was detained longer than expected in Lemoore, so it was up to Bradley. And he kind of couldn't wait to break the news to Indigo. When he told you that, you gave him one hell of a blowjob and then fell asleep with your cheek on his shoulder.

For some reason, Indigo's aircraft was about to undergo an inspection along with a communications update. Bradley knew inspections were time consuming. He'd been put through one back in Virginia with the Atlantic Fleet. They weren't for the weak of heart, because all your peers took to the air every day while you waited. And waited. And fucking waited until it felt like your spirit would break. There was nothing quite like missing out on the thrill of flying while everyone else got to do it.

This was why Bradley had to wipe the grin from his face as he strolled down the hallway toward his office. Indigo would not only be grounded, she wouldn't even be allowed to attend any lectures as part of the process. He wouldn't have to constantly see her while the harassment report was being handled. Bradley knew you were responsible for this, at least in part, and he couldn't stop kissing you for it. 

"God, I love my wife," he murmured, adjusting the wedding photo on his desk and sitting down to print his lecture notes. Once he had everything in order, he clipped his pages together, grabbed a cup of coffee, and went to his classroom.

As he waited outside the door, Bradley got the chance to greet every officer arriving for class. While he gave Spice a bit of a wide berth, the others were always courteous and respectful on the ground and in the air. The last few aviators trickled into the room, and now Bradley had to watch Indigo strut down the hallway, her black hair pulled into a tight bun, blue eyes flashing. She never took her eyes off him, and she didn't stop until she was just a little too close for comfort.

"Sir," she greeted with a smug smile. He wanted to roll his eyes, but he needed to remain professional. Hadn't he made it clear she wasn't going to get anywhere with him? He was still fighting a grin of his own, ready to deliver the news that would ruin her day, but she licked her lips and laughed. "How's your perfect wife doing? Think she'd believe you over me?"

The urge to smile vanished. Bradley's heart beat an angry rhythm as something precariously close to rage filled his veins. Indigo was threatening him and you, because she had no idea you'd been tucked behind his office door the other day. There was no reason to take the bait. He wanted to blow up again, but he tamped it down.

When she turned on her heel to enter the classroom, Bradley shook his head. "Not today, Lieutenant Jeffries. You and your aircraft have officially been grounded."

The look on her face was reward enough, but listening to her sputtering was also fun for him. "What? What are you talking about? This is ridiculous." She pointed angrily at him, eyes narrowed. "You can't do this. Why do you think you can just do this to me?"

"You'll address me as Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," he snapped, trying not to smile. "And instead of pointing at me, perhaps next time you'll remember to salute instead." She stood completely still before him, all traces of her anger gone.

"I want to know why."

Bradley backed into the classroom, his hand on the doorknob as he shrugged at her. "You'd have to ask someone a lot smarter than me that question." The door slammed in her face, and Bradley turned to the remaining officers with a bright smile. "Good morning, aviators. Let's get started."

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

You were exhausted, and your jaw was kind of sore from last night's vigorous blowjob as you walked into your lab after dropping Rose off at daycare. "Ow," you whispered, rubbing your chin as you took a seat. Any minute now, Bradley would be breaking the wonderful news to Indigo that she was currently obsolete. You giggled. You ruined her day, and you got to suck Bradley off. It was a win/win.

"You know better than to grin like that," Cat said, walking past you to her workspace. "Not when I'm the one pulling all the weight around here."

You wanted to insist that you were pulling plenty of weight as the baby thumped on your bladder, but you decided against it. "Should I start addressing you as Queen Cat?"

She laughed and turned on her computer. "Lieutenant Commander will suffice. Now let me get everything in order to start my investigation of aircraft number 156682 200. I can't wait to interview the pilot."

"Oh," you gasped. "You're interviewing her today?"

"I'm starting everything today. Including the actual Super Hornet code update. When we get some results, we can analyze the data together."

"Yeah," you replied, still caught up on Cat meeting up with Indigo at some point today. "I hope she doesn't give you a hard time. I still feel guilty, like this is going to eat up all your time. I don't mind carrying more weight in the lab. You know that, right? Like I can take some of your work-"

"First of all," Cat said, cutting you off, "she will not give me a hard time. I'll do everything by the book, but I can guarantee she'll hate me more than I hate her. And that's saying something. I can't wait to see this little piece of shit who thinks she's entitled to your husband."

"But-"

"And second, I'll let you know if I need help staying afloat, but for now, just concentrate on your forty hours while the baby grows."

"I still feel bad!" you finally said.

Cat didn't answer you for a while as she typed away and printed what she needed. You thought the conversation was over until she stood and started for the door. "You could always name the baby Catherine," she said with a wink before disappearing into the hallway.

You tried to focus on your computer screen, but you were a bit shaken by the sudden realization that unlike last time with Rose, you and Bradley hadn't discussed baby names. There were several you were fond of, and you opened a new document to type them out. All of them sounded good with Bradshaw, and you sighed.

"Maybe he should just pick again." 

You read through the list, ranking them in your approximate preferred order before adding more. You'd messed around with it so much, you were shocked when you realized it was lunchtime. "Let's go see Daddy," you told your belly.

You were ravenous, but if you gained another pound, you'd be in the maternity tent for sure. But it was unavoidable. Especially with how good the burrito bowls smelled. You were just reaching for a tray in the cafeteria when a moan escaped your lips the same time Bradley wrapped his arm around you.

"Oh, I know that sound," he whispered. "Here? Right now?" You turned to look at his excited smirk. "I mean, I guess we could go up to your office as long as we make it quick."

"Bradley," you laughed. "I was moaning for the burrito bowls."

Now he looked less thrilled. "Oh. Well, they do smell good."

Your stomach was growling uncontrollably now as you handed him a tray. "You know I'd usually pick a quickie," you whispered, gathering your lunch, "but the baby really, really wants this."

"Feed the Nugget," he replied, sticking close by your side as you looked for a table. "I just don't want to run into Indigo," he muttered, head on a swivel. "She is pissed at me, and I'm sick of looking at her."

When you sat down, you asked, "So you broke the news of the grounding?" You felt giddy inside knowing she was having a bad day after she'd given you so many.

"Yeah," Bradley grunted, taking a huge bite of his lunch. "She didn't take it well."

You clapped your hands quietly. "I doubt she's even going to have time to eat lunch. Cat's interviewing her and beginning her aircraft inspection."

"So you're giving me details now?"

You froze as you coated your food with hot sauce. "The less you know the better."

He shook his head and inhaled more food. "I'm just looking forward to taking Rosie trick-or-treating tomorrow. Should I stop and get candy on my way home?"

"Tomorrow's Halloween!" you gasped. "I completely lost track of time. Usually I plan a party and have everyone over!"

Bradley waved you off. "I just want it to be us this time. Rose's costume should arrive today or tomorrow morning. We can show her off to the neighbors and walk down to your parents' new house."

You squealed softly. In a few short weeks, your mom and dad would be moving from Maryland into the cutest coastal cottage in your neighborhood. "Okay, you're right. That sounds perfect. Stop for candy on the way home. And don't open it! You always get into it early and eat half."

Bradley stacked your empty tray with his. "So... about that quickie. I've got like thirty-five minutes until I need to be in the classroom..." His pupils were wide, and his leg was restless under the table. Knowing he wanted you made everything easier.

"I have a meeting with Bickel," you whispered, wrapping your legs around his. "Let's wait until tonight when it doesn't have to be quick."

"Jesus," he grunted, gaze sinking to your chest, knowing you'd make it worth the wait. "Yeah, okay. A little milk to go with the Halloween candy sounds good."

"I told you not to open it early!"

He scoffed as he stood. "I'm never not going to open the Halloween candy early. That's just a fact, Baby Girl." 

After he walked you to the elevators, he kissed you and then knelt to kiss your belly before disappearing into the sunlight. Even after your meeting and emptying out your email inbox, Cat still wasn't back. You didn't see her again until nearly the end of the day when she strolled back into the lab.

"What's up?" you asked, endlessly curious about what was going on with Indigo. Cat was giving you a look that left you feeling unsettled. "What? Tell me."

She sighed and sank into her seat. "First of all, Jeffries is a piece of work. She thinks she's hot shit, and I don't understand how you haven't run her over with Bradley's fancy Bronco by now. But..."

"What?!"

"Well, as I finished up my preliminary checks, she looked me right in the eye and asked if I work with you."

Your stomach lurched. "She did?"

Cat nodded. "Yes. She asked me if I work with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw's wife."

You felt uneasy. "What did you say?"

"I ignored her. But I'd already been ignoring plenty of her mouthing off, so whatever. It doesn't matter."

But it did matter to you. In all of your scheming, you'd almost forgotten that Indigo was still going to be lurking around North Island, ready to try to make your life harder. Ready to corner Bradley again. The fucking Navy needed to sort out his complaints against her faster. But at least you were under Indigo's skin. The thought almost felt good.

When you got home with Rose, you saw a text from Bradley.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3<3<3: don't make dinner, i'll bring food home

"Daddy's giving us more time to play," you whispered to your daughter who clearly wanted to be fed by the way she was clinging to you. "Let's go sit on the swing."

You nursed her on the enormous playset in your yard that Bradley just had to have, then you swung with her. When you started to burp her, your husband showed up, still in his uniform, looking hot as hell with his hands full of bags of candy.

His aviators were low on his nose, and he peered over them when he said, "I bought more than enough, Sweetheart. Now you can't complain when I start eating it after dinner." He dropped the candy on the patio table and made a beeline for you. "Let me burp the Nugget."

He alternated between kissing your forehead and Rose's as you slowly swung back and forth while he burped her. Somehow he just kept looking sexier as he bounced her in his arms, making her giggle.

"Keep your uniform on," you told him, letting your eyes slip to his bicep where his tattoos peeked out. "I want you in your uniform later."

"Yes, ma'am," he grunted, kissing your lips, making you gasp.

"You taste like chocolate! You already got into the candy!"

He winced, nudging his sunglasses all the way up his nose. "In my defense, there were Reese's Cups!" When he changed the subject, you didn't stop him. "Come inside and look at the Halloween costumes before we eat dinner."

Bradley outdid himself in every way. There were costumes for all three of you, and yours was stretchy enough to fit over your belly. The dinner he picked up was delicious, and after he read the book about the Silly Goose, he got Rose ready for bed.

But just the sound of his voice was turning you on. And you weren't even mad that he kept eating the candy. Your brain and your body felt fuzzy as you realized your hormones were completely out of control. When he walked into the bedroom, still in his khaki uniform, you squeezed your thighs together and whimpered.

"Am I allowed to get excited now, or are you still vibing with the burrito bowl?" he rasped with a smile.

"I am horny as hell," you whispered, quickly undressing as his eyes went wide. Maybe a quickie at lunchtime would have taken the edge off, because this was wild. You swore you could smell your husband from across the room, and when his big hand rested on his thick cock through his pants, you ran to him.

You were completely naked while he was fully dressed, and he cupped your breasts in his hands with an appreciative sound. "You were so right about the quickie. Now I can take my time." One hand ended up on your butt, guiding you to face the wall where you braced your hands. Bradley nudged your legs apart, his uniform scratching along your skin deliciously.

"Keep talking," you begged as the sound of him unzipping his pants met your ears. "Keep talking to me, Roo."

His insignia pins rubbed the back of your shoulder and his mustache found your ear. "Oh, you really need this, huh?" 

You jerked your head in a nod as his cock throbbed against your lower back. "I really do. Keep talking."

He guided himself to your entrance, pushing just the tip where you wanted him most before his hands slid around to your belly. "You want me to keep talking?" he murmured, going deeper and deeper, lips teasing your ear. "I could talk about how much I love you all night."

"Bradley," you whined, arching your back as he bottomed out.

"I love the way you say my name. And I love the way you can't get enough of my cock."

It was like listening to sweet and depraved poetry as his thighs slapped against yours. He kept going with his thrusts and his words, stroking your breasts which began to leak milk. But then he crooned about how much he loved that, too. Nothing was off limits as your head tipped back against his shoulder, kissing his tattoos.

His gruff breaths and shortening strokes let you know he was close, and when his fingers, wet with your milk, met your clit, you closed your eyes and focused on the pleasure as he said, "I love you, Sweetheart. I love you so fucking much."

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

Bradley cradled Rose in his arms, making a fuss over her. "My little Nugget," he chuckled, kissing her face around her fuzzy costume. Everything was set. What was left of the candy he hadn't eaten was in a bowl on the porch, and he had squeezed into his own costume.

"What about Tramp?" you called from the bedroom. "Should we leave him here so he thinks he's guarding the house from the trick-or-treaters?"

"Yeah," laughed Bradley. "Let him howl all night. He'll sleep all day tomorrow." You appeared in your costume which made Bradley smile. "You look cute as a pregnant bottle of hot sauce."

When you rubbed your belly, he wished he could feel the baby himself. After hours cradling you against him in bed last night, trying every position, he still couldn't feel her.

"I feel cute," you replied, doing a little wiggle dance around the kitchen, tossing a treat to Tramp. "And together we make the perfect meal."

"A meal you can't have right now," Bradley interjected, adjusting his beer bottle costume while the dinosaur chicken nugget squirmed against him.

"I can have dinosaur chicken nuggets and hot sauce, just not the beer," you replied, kissing Rose. "She looks so cute in this thing. I still can't believe you found it online."

"My little Dino Nugget," Bradley whispered. "Can you help me put the carrier on so we can go?"

"The carrier?" you repeated, brow creased. "Why don't we just take the stroller?"

Bradley rolled his eyes dramatically. "For the hundredth time, I don't like the stroller when I can just carry her instead. The stroller is bulky, and I don't even get to play with her when I'm pushing it. I don't know why they exist."

You bit your lip. "You're adorable, Roo."

When you turned to get the carrier, the image of Indigo randomly flashed through his mind. Things had been so nice the past few days, it was like he'd forgotten about the terrible weeks before this. Which he couldn't do. He knew he had to remember how much you were hurting so he didn't fuck up again. But right now, he wanted to enjoy Rose's first Halloween to its fullest.

"Can you still tell what her costume is?" Bradley asked as he fastened his daughter in place against his chest. "Shit. If we have to use the stroller, I'll be so pissed."

"Stop swearing in front of the baby," you scolded, feeding Tramp another treat. "I can very clearly tell she's a dinosaur chicken nugget. And a cute one at that."

"Excellent." Bradley fluffed up her costume and turned to the door. "Don't knock over the candy bowl."

You and he both stepped over it. "I'm shocked there was any candy left to put in the bowl," you told him with a playful glare.

"Listen, Baby Girl," he said, reaching for your hand. "You play your cards right, and you'll be my sweet treat later."

"It's annoying to me that I like the way that sounds."

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

We've got plenty more of Indigo coming in the next chapter. Want to know the names BG saved for the baby? Should I just go ahead and put up a baby names poll? Thanks for reading.

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

@bethabear12

@halo-mystic

@sherlockstrangewolf

@theamuz

@khaylin27

@glenpowellluver

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ “we could get a bit more risky if you’d like”

୨ৎ pairing: boyfriend!seunghyun x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! suggestive! perfect mix of heart warming, sweet, and spicy!

୨ৎ summary: seunghyun’s always been the type to tease, be affectionate, and act cute with you not caring who sees or hears. sometimes it becomes a bit too much and that’s when your shyness hits an all time high and your forced to playfully push him away but.. he never budges. this is seunghyun we’re talking about.

୨ৎ from myeong: hello!! so happy to be taking this request of course! anything for sweet seunghyun 🥹 I hope you enjoy this!! x

seunghyun stands in front of the crowd giving a small speech about how excited, delighted, and satisfied he is with all the squid game love. your glossed lips curl up into a gentle smile watching him turn into a man that you’ve always dreamed of seeing, a man that is much happier, confident, and comfortable being himself. it took many years of hardship and a tight bond you both had to get him to this point but it was well worth it. marriage wasn’t something that was constantly on your mind but the thought of marrying him and giving him a child sounded like a life you could definitely start living. as seunghyun finished up the speech he bowed and made his way over to you his arms immediately wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his chest like he loved doing so much. shocked? just a little bit. being on the much shyer side had always gotten in the way of his pda but he found it insanely adorable and that’s why he continued such pda just to see your cute expression every time he’d kiss, touch, or grab you.

“I’m so proud of you.” the whisper sweetly leaves your lips and you press a gentle but quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away completely—or at least tried too before his strong grip pulled you back into him, “where’s my girl goin’ hm? not leaving me so fast.” his deep voice always sent chills down your spine and thankfully the crowd around you weren’t too focused on the scene that played out in front of them. slipping your hand around his much warmer one and pulling him towards the table you both sat at before he was called up to speak, seunghyun stopped you before you could sit back down with a evident smirk across his thin lips. “what—” not being able to finish when he pulled you into his lap letting his hands find your waist rubbing at the thin fabric of your sundress he picked out for you to wear. “I think it’s only fair that everyone here knows we’re together.” a light chuckle left him and you playfully rolled your eyes, “don’t you agree? I mean.. we could get a bit more risky if you’d like.” and with that his lips found the back of your neck placing a few open mouthed kisses to the soft skin before pulling away and blowing on the area, “seunghyun! people can see us..” a giggle left your lips despite trying to sound irritated at his behavior, he knew that you loved it.

“this dress looks so good on you..” and just as you were about to reply to him lee jungjae walked up and took a seat in front of you both only causing warmth to rush through your entire body—just a bit embarrassed by how you had been sitting on your boyfriend’s lap at an event. slowly seunghyun started to speak with him about how difficult filming for this season was for the both of them, finding yourself playing with his long fingers that had been wrapped around your waist tapping in a gentle manner. although he had been doing so much better the anxiety still took over at times and with you here it was a way to calm himself down and know that things were perfectly safe and sound.

another man walked up and grabbed the attention of jungjae which meant seunghyun was no longer interested in their conversation and his head turned to you, leaning in to press his lips against your own. this had been the most affectionate he’s ever been in public and you couldn’t wrap your head around why. “is everything okay?” you asked quietly before his lips pressed against yours again in a almost possessive way. “mhm, always.” his reply was short and sweet because he wasn’t finished with you just yet large hands finding the top of your bare thighs and giving them each a squeeze. at this point it felt like it was just you two here until you heard the familiar voice of lee byunghun and immediately stood from his lap, bowing to the older man in front of you. “I see he can’t keep his hands off you.” byunghun chuckled enjoying how much in love seunghyun was with you and you turned to give him a playful glare before sitting down in your own seat although it didn’t take seunghyun long to take ahold of your hand and pull it towards his lips pressing a few kisses to each finger. “you’re being so affectionate, why? I’m not complaining but.. people have been looking at us for a few minutes now.” a deep chuckle left his chest and he took the time to look around at said people who were supposedly staring at you both.

“who cares, my love. can’t a man be in love with his gorgeous girl and show intimacy, hm? it’s not like we’re having sex on the table.” and you reached over to slap at his chest not believing the words that just came from his lips, especially with byunghun right in front of you two. seunghyun shrugged his broad shoulders before standing up and pulling you up along with him, “why don’t we go dance? or maybe we can take a short bathroom break? and no we won’t be using the bathroom.” an annoyed groan left your lips and he pulled your back towards his chest letting his arms wrap around your waist, “oh hush. I know you enjoy this too much.” his voice against your ear made your knees weak and you slowly nodded your head not wanting to nod at all and agree with him but that would be lying.

[btsugarush]

I'd Hate To Say it | pjm (teaser)

summary: when you return home from studying abroad, you come to find your former best friend, jimin, has made drastic changes to his life that could put him in danger or behind bars forever.

pairings: drug dealer jimin x fireader.

warnings: smut, violence, fluff, blood and gore, ex best friend jimin, gang member!jimin, tattooed/pierced!jimin, long hair!jimin, use of guns/knives, mentions of self harm, mentions of abuse, alcohol abuse, drugs, drug addiction, angst, murder, strong language, 18+, minors dni.

word count: 796

author’s note: yes yes, I’m getting back into my writing and I’ve finally posted at least the teaser to this fic lol.

Your heart beats heavily against your chest as you finally hear Jimin’s door unlock, the brunette appearing on the other side as it opens. He looks uninterested to see you, an annoyed expression on his face. “What’re you doing here, y/n?” He says dryly. You take a deep breath before you speak. “Is it true?” You ask softly.

Jimin leans against his door frame, a raised eyebrow as he waits for you to explain what you mean, but you don’t. “Is what true?” He urges you to go on. “What everyone is saying… that you– that you have something to do with that boy getting murdered.”

Jimin squints before his dark orbs survey the hallway to make sure no one is around. It was almost like he thought you were setting him up, but regardless of your estranged friendship, he still knew you better than that. Once he made sure the coast was clear, he pulled you by your arm inside his apartment and slammed the door closed. “What’s everyone saying?” He questions.

“That you, along with your little gang associates, had something to do with that shooting that happened in Busan last night.” Jimin scoffs, letting go of your arm. The brunette walks around you, running his fingers through his hair in distress. His back is turned towards you, and he stands in silence for a moment before turning to face you.

“Do you believe them?”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t. It was time to face the painful truth; Jimin was no longer that sweet boy you used to know. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Jimin. I mean… since I’ve been back I’ve barely recognized you. You’ve been into a lot of reckless shit, and now you have murder attached to your name? It doesn’t seem too far-fetched anymore.”

Jimin scowled at your insinuation. “Then I guess you got it all figured out, don’t you? Just call the cops now if you’re so sure, y/n.” He pulls his cell from his pocket, reaching out for you to take it. “Go on, take it.” He beckons. You shake your head, refusing the phone. “I didn’t come here to prosecute you, Jimin.” You speak softly. “I came here hoping that it wasn’t you… but I can read you like a book still, and I know you had something to do with it.”

The brunette makes a ‘tsk’ sound. “So what if I did, y/n? Are you gonna rat on me?” He takes a step closer to you, the look in his eyes intimidating; but no matter how hard he tried to instill fear into you, he was still Jimin. “No… but you should turn yourself in. I don’t wanna see you go down like this, Mochi.” You utter the nickname you used to call him when you were kids.

This softens the brunette for a mere moment before he finds himself enraged. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking call me that. Don’t you fuckin’ pretend to give a shit about me. Not after you left me behind.” He grits his teeth, pointing his ringed finger in your face.

“I never left you behind,” you push his finger away, glaring at him. “I had goals, dreams to achieve. I couldn’t be stuck in this dead end life like–”

“Like me?” He cut you off. “Say it, y/n. Say like me.” He pushes. You shake your head, taking a step back from the brunette. “I’d hate to say it, but you’re a lost cause. I should’ve never come here. If you wanna ruin your life forever, that’s fine by me. I’m done caring.” You turn to exit, but Jimin isn’t done guilting you. “You never did.”

This finally boils your blood, and you whip around to face him. “I’m not the one that stopped reaching out, you did!” You remind him. You were tired of being the one to blame for your fallen friendship with Jimin. The phone worked both ways, and he was the one that stopped answering your calls, and calling altogether. “I am tired of being blamed, I am tired of your coldness towards me. I don’t know what the hell you wanted from me!”

“I wanted you to stay!” He snaps. “But you left and I was all alone! I needed you, y/n. I needed you and you fuckin’ left me…” his voice cracks, and for the first time since you’ve been back you see a glimpse of the old Jimin in his eyes. Soft. Innocent. Lost. “I… I don’t know what to say…” your voice is gentle. Jimin finds his composure, shaking his head. “I don’t need you to say shit,” he spat. “You wanna know if I killed that kid? Yeah. I did it.”

[roguishcat]

Fangs and Cheeks

Summary: Astarion is an ass man.

Excerpt:

“I don’t expect any physical intimacy. I love what we have. I love you,” you said truthfully. “But um… You being lost in the moment, being so feral about it… It felt nice.”

“My rutting against your ass like a hormonal hound would with a bitch in heat? I’m sure it was a magical moment,” he quipped sarcastically.

Word count: 4.3k

Rating: Exlicit (MNDI)

Tags: Dry humping, PinV sex, orgasm denial, Reader being a bit of a brat, brat taming (if you squint), Reader having a danger kink, Reader denying that she has a danger kink, oral (female receiving), soft dom Astarion, smut and fluff, Astarion is loved, smug Astarion

A/N: Please tell me if you notice typos and mistakes. ❤️ Constructive criticism is appreciated. Comments are always loved! ❤️

(dividers by @saradika)

Once you and Astarion were in what you would call a ‘proper relationship’, you quickly discovered that he was a very tactile person. Astarion hated being touched out of the blue, grimacing and stiffening if anyone got too near for his liking. Yet, he was rather partial to keeping his hands on you. He was especially fond of your derrière, making sure that it received plenty of attention from him.

In hindsight, it's been this way ever since you first slept together. An occasional brush here and there. His hand on the small of your back moving further south than was necessary. The little squeeze that could be nothing but your imagination. Just you being hopeful and wanting your feelings to be reciprocated. Because you were under no illusion that your romp was nothing but that.

Astarion was gorgeous, ethereal, and intoxicating. All sharp lines and velvety words. Words which time and time again affected you in a way that you'd not thought possible until you met him.

And you? As much as you wanted there to be more to your trysts, you were painfully aware of the fact that you were conveniently there at a time when he felt like blowing off some steam. 

Yet, as you fought your way through the Shadow-Cursed Lands, shared victories and supported each other through the horrors that awaited around every corner, you felt a change. Like something between you shifted just enough for Astarion to start looking at you in a way that had your heart fluttering like a caged bird.

His touches became softer. He lingered. Held you closer, spent more time with you than necessary. Instead of drinking from you when you were asleep, Astarion would find an excuse to be in your tent whilst you were still awake, as if wanting to hear you ask again and again if he was in the mood for a nibble.

Astarion started sharing more of himself with you, telling you of what he had been through over the past two centuries. And you realised that perhaps to Astarion you being there for him, standing up for him, seeing him as a person, was novel and very welcome.

When Astarion confessed, nervously telling you of his deception, his guilty conscience not allowing him to take advantage of your affection for him any longer, you assured him that being with him was enough.

More than enough.

With you agreeing to abstain until he felt ready to resume the sexual part of your relationship, Astarion seemed to come to enjoy just being with you, exploring intimacy that other forms of touch brought.

You felt giddy every time you asked for a kiss and Astarion agreed most enthusiastically. Kissing you deeply, both his hands squeezing your butt tightly, kneading the soft flesh in a way that had you both moaning into the kiss.

Lae’zel would roll her eyes and march past you with a huff, muttering something unsavoury under her breath about istiks and their peculiar mating rituals. Her words would go completely ignored.

Shadowheart would smirk and pretend to be annoyed, remarking that if they were to be subjected to seeing you be all over each other, at least some change in repertoire would be nice.

Gale would suggest that for the sake of the others he would be more than happy to teach you to cast Silence.

You were not really sure why everyone assumed that you and Astarion were doing more than share each other’s space. It never went past kissing. And perhaps a little under the shirt action. Just as you agreed, you gave Astarion space and time to figure out what he was comfortable with. The two of you would hold hands, cuddle up to each other, share heated looks and sweetest kisses that made your toes curl. And without fail Astarion’s hands would eventually be touching, patting, squeezing, playfully slapping, or pinching your ass.

So, it really was not that much of a surprise when you woke up one fine morning with Astarion rutting against your clothed backside. Now, whilst you had no issue with your vampire enjoying himself, having explicitly stated to him on several occasions that you were game for whatever he would come up with, you were not entirely sure what to do now.

Should you just stay still? Judging by how his pace was picking up and the way his gentle grunts were becoming more audible by the second, Astarion would be done soon. He was clearly so lost in the moment and eager to chase his release that he didn’t even pick up on the change in your heartbeat.

Most of the time you slept like a log. It would take wildebeest stampeding past your tent for you to stir. Which is probably why Astarion, having made plenty of quips and jokes about your almost impressive ability to fall asleep in any place as soon as your head touched the bedroll, was not being particularly careful about being quiet.

Yes, staying still was probably best. If you were entirely honest, Astarion wanting you so desperately was doing wonders for your confidence. And the moans and muffled grunts, his cool fingers on your hips, soft curls tickling the back of your neck, got you hot and bothered in seconds. You two weren’t intimate in... a while. And whilst this was not exactly how you thought you would next be intimate, you'd take it.

And then you felt your nose itch. What started as a just little itch that had you scrunching you nose in annoyance was becoming worse by the second. Oh, hells! You were going to sneeze!

You tried to turn your head ever so discreetly to the side and rub your nose against the bedroll. Surprisingly enough, even you moving got absolutely zero reaction from Astarion. And this would be the end of your predicament if you were anyone but the unluckiest woman in all the realms.

Your violent sneeze was like a clap of thunder on a still night.

As you blinked your watery, bleary eyes, you realised that Astarion stopped, the fingers gripping your hips no longer there. You gulped, not really sure what to do now that it was abundantly clear to the both of you that you were very awake and very aware of what was happening moments ago.

“Do you want to tal-”

“I’d rather not,” he interjected quickly, and you felt him moving away from you.

Panicking, you grabbed onto his sleeve, making him still.

“Are you really so adamant on prolonging this unbearable moment?” Astarion asked tersely, making you wince. Yet your fingers did not lose their vice-like grip on the fabric.

“Or do you want to tell me all about what you think of my disgusting, despicable behaviour?”

“I- I don’t think it was disgusting,” you cleared your throat, a blush blooming on your skin. “Not even a little.”

“I was kind of… into it,” you admitted with some reluctance. Because what kind of person did that make you? A very sexually frustrated one, that’s for sure and certain.

“Oh?” you heard the lilt in his voice as he lowered himself back onto the bedroll, settling beside you but not quite close enough for him to touch your back. Realising that you were still holding onto his sleeve, you let go, his arm moving out of your line of sight as soon as your fingers were no longer holding on.

“Why?”

The question caught you off-guard. You didn’t really want to tell him the truth. How embarrassing to admit that you would jump through hoops for his attention, even after him telling you explicitly that you were ‘well and truly taken’.

“Do I have to answer that?”

“No. But I would prefer it if you did, my sweet.”

The endearment made you relax a little. Picking up on it, Astarion drew your body closer, one hand settling back on your hip. You shivered as you felt that he was hard still.

Reigning in your raging libido, you reminded yourself that you were not to jump his bones and were to remain a perfectly well-functioning adult about this. You’d tell Astarion what you felt without giving yourself away so much that he’d feel pressured into anything.

“I don’t expect any physical intimacy. I love what we have. I love you,” you said truthfully. “But um… You being lost in the moment, being so feral about it… It felt nice.”

“My rutting against your ass like a hormonal hound would with a bitch in heat? I’m sure it was a magical moment,” he quipped sarcastically.

“Oh, you don’t have to make it sound that hot,” you laughed and put your hand on top of his cool fingers, running your fingers along his knuckles in soothing, comforting strokes.

“What I mean, it felt good to be desired, wanted by you.”

Your awkward confession and gentle touch got him to relax a little, you could feel it when he put his chin on your shoulder. You could also feel something else that you would very much wanted to press into. On top of. Around. You were not picky.

But you stayed very still. And that was pure, sweet torture.

“Make no mistake, I want you constantly.” Astarion’s cool breath tickled your skin and set it ablaze. “If it were up to me, there would be far less adventuring and helping out those pesky refugees, and far more time spent feverishly enjoying each other.”

He sighed and kissed your exposed shoulder. You grasped onto whatever restraint you had and pressed your lips together.

“But it seems that it is not up to me,” he went on. “So, when my trance was interrupted by you moaning my name in your sleep, I felt a stir. And I just- just went for it. I don’t know what I was thinking. I doubt that I was thinking at all. Not with you making those delicious sounds and you being so close. I apologise.”

“Astarion. I love you. And I did tell you on more than one occasion that I’d be happy to try anything. Consider this as us trying something new.”

“What happens now?” Astarion murmured.

“What do you want to happen?”

You didn’t get a reply. Licking your lips, you decided that perhaps a gentle suggestion would not hurt. Astarion knew that he could say no. That you would never hold it against him.

“If you like, we can pick up where you left off.”

“Meaning?”

Well, it definitely wasn’t a ‘no’. There was a distinct huskiness to his voice that made you feel that perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing to tell him exactly what you thought.

“I think that you should finish what you started.”

“Tsk, naughty. Who knew that you would be into something like that?”

“Who knew that you were so into my ass?”

He snorted and muttered something that sounded like ‘not yet’.

“Dearest, have you seen how leather lovingly cradles it? Nothing is left to the imagination. I can scarcely tear my eyes away long enough to fight whatever horror is sent after us!”

He was moving again and you bit your lip to stifle your moan, wondering if you could angle your body to get friction where you most needed it.

Astarion noticed. Of course he did.

With a breathy chuckle, you felt his fingers move fabric aside, sliding into your underwear.

“Allow me,” he grunted into your ear.

“Such a gentleman,” you sighed, spreading yourself a little wider to give him more to work with.

“Of course! How callous would it be to leave a lady… wanting,” he punctuated the last word with a thrust of his hips. “Although, one cannot help but wonder, what were you dreaming about that had you moaning my name, hm?”

“What was I doing to you, dearest?” Astarion asked and moved his clothed erection against the swell of your ass, his fingers circling your clit with light, unhurried movements. You bit your lip harder, not wanting to alert the whole camp to what was going on. Astarion adored the blush that overwhelmed your skin.

“Oh? Don't feel like talking right now? How about I guess. Let me see… was I gentle? Did I whisper sweet nothings into your ear as I took you slowly?” Astarion teased, lifting himself a little off the bedroll so he could see your face better.

Hm. No change in your heartbeat, no spike in arousal. Clearly, that wasn’t it.

“No,” you confirmed his suspicions, “you were not.”

“Naughty,” he clicked his tongue and gave a pleased chuckle. "How absolutely delightful.”

Astarion’s thrusts took on a different rhythm to match the increasing speed of his fingers working you.

“So, I was rough, wasn’t I?” He pressed a fang against the hot skin of your neck, biting down on sensitive flesh without breaking skin.

“Yes,” you squirmed and pushed back, making his eyes slam shut. You shivered as a strained groan tore itself from his lips.

"Fuck," he hissed, releasing your neck to put his lips on a pulse point.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Must have slipped," you said grinding yourself against the bulge beneath the leather. Because you were past the point of reasoning and definitely way past having any restraint. Astarion spoke of not wanting to be treated like he was made of porcelain. Perhaps pushing back just a little would be exactly the right way to show that you weren’t walking on eggshells around him.

Astarion’s ruby eyes narrowed dangerously, yet a smile curled his lips.

"Do you really think you can play me so easily?"

"Oh, no. I would never!" Your gasp was so theatrical it made him bark a delighted laugh.

"Ha! Trying to outplay me, dearest? Well, it is not going to be that simple.” Astarion purred and tilted your head, so you'd look him in the eyes. The expression on his face was as arrogant as it was tantalisingly attractive.  “I am always the one in charge when it comes to playtime, you'd do well to remember that, my sweet."

He nipped your shoulder blade, humming in satisfaction at the shiver this elicited.

"If I recall correctly, you were in the middle of telling me your dream."

Ah, yes. You did remember that he wanted you to talk. Talk whilst he was overwhelming you with sensations, his nearness, his scent, just his everything. Sure. You could probably manage to string some words together.

“You were rough.”

“We’ve already established that.”

 And perhaps to another, more merciful being, that would be enough to let you off the hook. Astarion was hardly known for being merciful.

His fingers slowed down, making you thrust your hips forward. Astarion clicked his tongue and nipped the exposed skin of your shoulder, “Go on, dearest.” 

“It was after a battle, you were still in your armour.”

“I’m glad that I am such a consummate lover I needn’t even strip.”

“Sex dreams don’t have to make sense, alright?”

“No, dear,” he chuckled. “I’m so very sorry, do continue.”

“There isn’t that much more to it. I woke up before we actually… well. But um-”

Oh, you might just as well go for it. Astarion knew full well that he was intoxicatingly handsome. What he didn’t know was when exactly you found him most attractive.

"I- I enjoy seeing you fight."

“Would that be a dander kink, per chance? Do you want me to take you in the middle of a battlefield? Or should I feel worried over your throwing looks at others, hm?”

"No, it’s you. Every move so precise and purposeful. Your muscles straining, metal singing against metal. You are beautiful, and sensual, and confident, and powerful."

“Go on,” he whispered with a quietness that was at odds with the possessive way he griped you. You felt Astarion grind against you. Slowly, indulgently. The hand not working you moving from your hip to your ass to give it a tight squeeze that would definitely leave a mark.

"I see you and I marvel at your tenacity, the stubborn set of your jaw as you refuse to give in. Your curls tainted red, your eyes set on your target as you strike with cruel precision."

“My, my, who knew you were harbouring such fantasies. Such deviousness under that sweet façade. Only you could care for such a monstrosity.”

“No,” you cut him off sharply. “You are not a monster.”

You licked your lips as you thought of how to make him understand.

“You are many things. My friend, my confidant, my lover, my protector. I’ve never had that before you. I trust you. And that-,” you whimpered, eyelashes fluttering, a tear rolling down a heated cheek.

“Yes?”

“And that makes me want you even more,” you admitted as you saw stars, Astarion’s fingers not breaking their rhythm, sending a wave after wave of pleasure rippling though your body. Finally, his hand stilled.

You panted, turning your head enough to the side to rest your cheek against his cool one. Closing your eyes, you let your body sag against his.

“I take it you enjoy dangerous things, darling?” Astarion whispered into your hair.

“Most pretty things are,” you forced out between breaths. “And you are the prettiest, handsomest rogue I’ve ever seen.”

"Love?" Astarion shifted and moved, and you felt his fangs graze the sensitive flesh of your neck.

"Yes."

Please.

He bit down to take long, greedy gulps, both his hands clutching you to his chest. Having been told that he could taste how you felt made you wonder, what secrets was your blood revealing? What sensations he drew into his own body from yours with every gulp?

"Clothes off. Now.” Astarion ripped himself away from you, not wanting to overindulge and leave you weak.

"But why? I thought you wanted-"

"Love, I don't always know what I want. But this is one of those times when I do."

Suddenly, Astarion was gone, making you whine in protest.

“Underwear off,” he commanded whilst fumbling with his clothes, his voice raspy because of the emotions he was struggling to contain.

You were more than ready for this. But you were feeling cheeky. So, with a smirk, you lifted yourself off the bedroll until your lips were an inch from his, your warm breath on his cool skin.

"A lady likes to be asked."

He gritted his teeth but relented. "Please, love."

"Tsk, don't pout, Star. Was it really so hard?"

"No. But this is,” he snatched your hand and put it on his length, giving himself a few strokes with his fingers clenched tightly around yours. “So be good and do as I say. Off."

You felt a shiver dance down your spine as he called you a good girl. He was playing dirty, and he knew it. This time you obeyed almost instantly, fingers shaking as you took off your smallclothes.

As soon as you discarded them, Astarion was behind you again, naked from the waist down. You turned your head to look over your shoulder, taking in his face.

Desire, need, lust.

He stared at you like he was desperate to have you. Perhaps in a way he was. You gulped, feeling giddy and excited, and also very pleased with yourself for choosing to wear a cotton slip to bed.

Angling your arm a little awkwardly, you reached for Astarion and your thumb flicked over the sensitive tip, making you gasp when his hips surged forward.

“Touch me again,” he ordered when your hand began to leave him.

“But I-I want to feel you inside.”

“Soon. Good girls who wait get fucked best, didn’t anyone tell you that?” Astarion taunted, though he knew that he was the one suffering.

His mind was clear, he was present, his eyes on the face of the one who loved him so tenderly and fiercely. He wanted to fuck you into the bedroll right there and then more than anything in his life. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to have a little fun with your first.

“Touch me, I know you want to.”

Perhaps you did, but that was beside the point.

“I need you, Astarion. Please.”

“Soon. Get to it, love.”

No matter how much he willed himself to stay still, Astarion’s hips jumped as your hand went up and down his length, moving to cup his balls and caress them with gentleness that had Astarion cursing himself for not just giving in.

“Astarion,” you whined, not quite recognising your own voice.

“Fine.” One arm wrapped around your waist, he pushed you back down against the bedroll. “Since you ask so nicely, I will indulge you.”

You were going to snap at him, but then whatever what you were going to say turned into whimper when you felt the tip of his dick rub against your entrance. You were still sensitive, and a shiver ran through your body at the slightest contact.

He gave a few shallow fucks before finally, finally giving you what you wanted.

Astarion dropped his head onto your shoulder as his hips began to grind and roll. His cock slid deeper, flexed against inner walls. He pulled out, slamming back into you and enjoying every soft hitch in your breath.

“You’re so tight. Fuck,” Astarion groaned out, nestling into your neck as he picked up pace.  “I won’t stop anymore, love. I can’t stop,” he admitted huskily. He no longer had the strength to control himself.

Astarion parted your legs to give himself better access and tore at the cloth still covering your body, the fabric tearing under his rough treatment to expose one of your breasts.

“Astarion!” Your protest turned into a whine.

“I’ll buy you a new one. I will buy ten,” he chuckled darkly and kissed your back.

“I’ll make sure to remind you,” you hissed and moaned, feeling a hand cup your breast and move to roll a nipple between long, dexterous fingers.

You were so, so close. It was maddening how well this man knew exactly where to touch you.

And then his hand was gone and you felt Astarion withdraw abruptly, leaving you concerned and panicking.

Was this too much? Was he- Oh! Oh.

Whatever thought you were about to have next died a swift death as Astarion’s tongue flicked between your folds, your throaty, desperate moan encouraging him to continue.

His tongue thrust forward, and then again, and again and-

“Astarion,” you half-sobbed, face falling forward. You held the pillow against your mouth to try to silence whatever obscene sounds you were about to make.

Legs shaking, fingers gripping the pillow so hard that your knuckles turned white, your second orgasm hit you hard, Astarion not stopping until he saw that you were finished.

Rising a little on shaking hands, you took a few steadying breaths.

“What happened to ‘I can’t stop’,” you managed.

“I slipped.”

You gave an inelegant snort and turned weakly to face him, legs and arms trembling. Astarion grinned at you cheekily, finding that he rather enjoyed how much of a mess you were. Hair mussed, clothes torn beyond repair, the red imprint from where you pressed the pillow into your skin, and the way you could barely hold yourself up.

He did all that. And he was not even done with you.

Astarion lay down onto the bedroll, pulling you down beside him, hands snaking round your middle and holding you close.

"I want that, you know," you felt him exhale. "I want to be the man you see," Astarion whispered, face hidden in your hair, as he entered you with utmost gentleness. Pausing briefly he just lay next to you and enjoyed the sound of your still ragged breath, the rapid heartbeat, the warmth of your skin. You felt on hand trace patterns on your waist as it moved down, settling on the swell of your hip.

And then Astarion was moving again. Slow, so toe-curlingly slow at first. Then a touch faster, settling into a rhythm.

"You already are. You are strong.”

“Yes.”

He was speeding up, this time ready for his own release.

“You are free."

He moaned and whimpered, hips stuttering, thrust turning desperate.

"I love the man that you are."

He bit down on your shoulder and you winced as fangs peirced skin, rivulets of blood staining what was left of the cloth that barely covered you.

"I love you, Astarion."

He thrust once, twice and then again and- oh. Astarion fucked you through his orgasm and then more still, until he felt himself grow soft, his spend trickling down between your bodies.

He drew in a breath he didn’t need and shuddered as the last wave of pleasure coursed through his body.

"That was amazing," you lifted his hand to your lips to kiss his knuckles.

“Well you have to say that now, after you had your way with me so thoroughly,” he said with an air of a virgin defiled by a rake.

“Are you saying that it was me that seduced you?” You turned your head to see him grin.

The nerve of that man!

“As if you didn’t know what you were doing to me when you wore that,” he pointed a finger what used to be your sleepwear, “to bed.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you huffed.

“Perhaps then I should give you-”

“Will you two fuckers stop fucking already, it’s too early for all this!” Karlach bellowed from her tent.

“Gale?” Shadowheart groaned in dismay, probably wishing she put her tent up further away from Astarion's.

“On it.”

“Did he just cast Silence on us?” Astarion heard your voice in his mind.

“I believe we were a little too loud.” The elf wiggled his eyebrows at you as you felt him make use of the tadpole.

“This is mortifying,” you groaned and tried to hide your face behind your hands.

“Well, if they needed their beauty sleep, should have told the wizard to cast the spell earlier,” Astarion shrugged, looking completely unapologetic, and slapped your ass, delighting in your surprised squeak. “Besides, we can be as loud as we want now.”

“You are kidding, right?”

“I do not kid.”

“Astarion! No!”

“Yes.”

He rolled you onto your back and started kissing from your collarbones down to your breasts.

“No,” your voice had a little less conviction, weak hands pushing back silvery curls and tracing the tips of his ears .

“Yes.” Astarion lifted his head for a moment, ruby eyes filled with adoration, only to continue his descent.

“Oh, fine,” you gave a happy sigh, feeling him hum against your skin in approval.

You knew that you should probably feel chastened now that you knew you cost your companions precious hours of sleep, but you felt floaty and content, and far too well-fucked to feel too guilty. You would deal with the inevitable looks and comments later.  And then Astarion did that thing you liked with his tongue and you did not give anyone another thought for quite a while.

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[leona-hawthorne]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a birthday gift ; for the sweetest witch… ༯

a little present to @nottswitch and also a little for myself because we share the same birthday! this was supposed to be fluffy and then i realized you would enjoy nasty smut a lot more <3 wrote it for theo and everything cuz he’s your fav, happy birthday kira!! ♡︎

warnings ; 18+ mdni, fem!reader x theodore nott, oral f!receiving, praise, overstim

₊⊹ navigation ; m.list

theodore’s gaze is intense as you step into his dorm, the soft glow from a few scattered lamps casting shadows on the walls. the noise of the party you just left still lingers in the back of your mind, but now all you want is him. he’d left only a little earlier than you did, and now he's lounging on the couch, his eyes dark with mischief, the corners of his lips quirking up just enough to make your pulse race.

“finally here, huh?” he drawls in that slow, smooth voice of his, eyes sweeping over your outfit as his gaze lingers longer than usual on the curve of your hips. “thought i’d never get you alone tonight.”

you laugh softly, stepping closer to him, your cheeks flushing under the heat of his attention. “well, i couldn’t leave my own party too early. birthday girl deserves a little attention too,” you tease, though you can already feel your heart pounding with the tension between you two.

he raises an eyebrow, that signature smirk curling at the edge of his lips. “oh, you’re the birthday girl, huh? well, i guess that means i’m in the mood to spoil you a bit, sweetheart.”

you shiver at the way he says it, your breath catching when you catch sight of the gift bags and the carefully arranged candles behind him. “you didn’t have to get me anything,” you say, voice soft, not really expecting him to answer.

but of course, he does. “yeah, i did,” he responds with that low chuckle, eyes never leaving yours as he stands up and steps closer. his fingers trace lightly over your arm as he moves, and you swear you feel a pulse of heat where his fingers graze. “happy birthday, princess.”

his lips brush over your ear, sending a jolt of warmth straight to your core. “open your presents first,” he adds, almost gently, as if this were some sort of normal moment. but you know the underlying intensity of this—his eyes darken slightly, giving away the hunger beneath that cool, collected exterior.

you glance at the presents, feeling the urge to push them aside. "can we skip this part? i’m… i’m not really in the mood for presents right now," you admit, feeling bold as your fingers creep up to the collar of his shirt, tugging him toward you.

“mhm,” he hums, leaning in, his lips hovering near your neck. “is that so?” his voice is warm, teasing, but you know better than to think he’s not already on the same page as you. “then why don’t you tell me what you really want for your birthday?”

“you,” you breathe, and the moment the word leaves your lips, he’s pulling you into him.

before you can blink, he’s leading you to the edge of the couch, his hands expertly pushing your dress up over your thighs. he pauses for a moment, his eyes scanning you with a lazy, hungry look before his hands slide down to your panties. with a flick of his fingers, they’re gone, discarded onto the floor. you barely register the movement before his mouth is on you—hot, wet, and insistent. your body tenses at the immediate pressure, his tongue flicking over your clit in teasing circles. you gasp, fingers tightening in his hair as he works his magic, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

he takes his time, savoring the taste of you, every movement slow and deliberate. “you look so fucking good,” he mutters between kisses, one hand grabbing your hip and pulling you closer as if he can't get enough of you. “you’re my favourite thing, you know that?”

you moan in response, trying to control the growing wave of pleasure, but it’s no use. his tongue flicks over you in just the right way, and you’re already close, the tension in your body coiling tighter and tighter. “theo, i—oh god,” you choke out, your body arching up to meet him.

“come on, birthday girl, let go,” he urges, his voice low and thick with desire. “i’ve got you, sweetheart.”

he flicks his tongue over your clit one last time, just hard enough to send you over the edge, and you gasp, fingers digging into the back of his head as you come hard, your legs trembling beneath him. he doesn’t stop, though—his pace quickens, sucking harder as he overstimulates you, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you’re practically begging him to stop.

he doesn’t listen to your pleas. instead, he keeps going, tongue relentless against your sensitive skin, coaxing another orgasm out of you despite the tremors in your body. “god, look at you,” he groans, barely pulling away to catch his breath. “so fucking perfect for me.”

you’re barely holding it together at this point, feeling like you’re on the edge of breaking as he moves back in again. he keeps you on the edge, making sure that each flick of his tongue makes you scream his name, your hands gripping the couch cushion beside you for support.

you can feel your body aching from the overstimulation, but all he does is grin, his eyes dark with hunger. “happy birthday, baby. again,” he whispers, pulling away for just a moment to make sure you’re catching your breath. his lips are swollen from kissing you so much, and his eyes gleam with dark satisfaction.

“how about you open your presents now?” he suggests, voice rough and hoarse.

you smirk, still panting from your orgasms, and raise an eyebrow. “are they going to compare to what you just gave me?”

theodore chuckles darkly, a wicked glint in his eye. “oh, well i don’t know about that. but i do know i’m gonna make this birthday one to remember.”