#lap loop au

[solefi]

All of you, Always

𓂃𝐧𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭

| 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮

〻(muse.) lee heeseung

〻(wc.) 5.2k

〻(genre.) smut. non idol! au.

〻(cont.) fem! reader. description of female anatomy. unprotected sex. kissing. oral sex (male receiving). cum eating (reader swallows). creampie. overstimulation. praise. switch! heeseung. slightly subby hee. reader wants to please hee. riding. couch sex. soft sex.

They were supposed to go out. Dinner reservations, cute outfits—a normal night like any other couple. Instead, she ends up in her boyfriend’s lap wrapped around his cock. Then again, with the way every one of their dates ends up exactly like this, did they really miss anything?

The door clicks shut softly behind you.

You slip out of your heels at the entryway, leaving them next to Heeseung’s worn sneakers. For a moment, your heart squeezes at the sight: your shoes and his, side by side like they belong together.

Like you belong here.

You let yourself pretend, just for a heartbeat, that this is your shared home. Pretend he’s your husband waiting in the next room, pretend you’re walking into the rest of your life.

‘One day’, you think with a smile.

Your white maxi skirt brushes your ankles as you pad barefoot down the hallway. The fabric hugs your hips and waist, the soft tube top above showing off your shoulders, your belly, your curves—you know he’ll notice. He always does.

You knock softly on the closed studio door, smiling to yourself. A beat later, his voice—warm, a little distracted—floats through.

“Come in, baby.”

You open the door and step inside. The studio is dim, cozy—monitors glowing, fairy lights casting a soft haze over the cluttered space.

Heeseung’s hunched over the mixing board, hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows, brows furrowed in concentration. He turns when he hears you, and when he sees you his whole face lights up.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmurs, voice dropping lower just for you.

You cross the room to him without hesitation, your skirt swishing softly around your legs.

He rises halfway from his chair, meeting you for a kiss — slow, sweet, a lingering brush of lips that feels like sinking into something warm and endless.

His hands skim over your waist, squeezing lightly, like he needs to reassure himself that you’re real.

“Missed you,” he says against your mouth.

“Missed you too, Hee,” you whisper back.

He pulls back just enough to grin at you—soft, a little smug, eyes dipping down to drink you in.

You see the way his gaze catches on the sliver of skin showing between your top and skirt, the way his fingers flex like he’s fighting the urge to touch.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes, almost to himself.

You laugh, cheeks heating, and tap his chest lightly.

“You wanted to show me something?”

“Yeah,” he says, snapping out of his daze. “New track. Just finished it.”

He sits back down and pulls you into his lap without a second thought, one strong arm wrapping around your waist, the other resting lazily on your thigh—his thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles over your skin.

You melt against him, arms looping around his neck, your chest pressed flush to his.

You can feel his heartbeat, quick and steady beneath your palm.

The track starts—a low, throbbing beat, thick with bass and lazy synths.

It’s sexy, smoky, the kind of song that makes your body want to move without thinking. Heat coils low in your stomach instantly. 

You tilt your head, giving him a playful look.

“It’s hot,” you murmur.

Heeseung grins, cocky and shy all at once.

“Made it thinking about you.”

Your stomach flips. You kiss him, just a quick press of lips that isn’t nearly enough, and before you know it, you’re kissing him again.

Slower. Deeper.

Your fingers threading into the messy strands of his hair, tugging gently. Heeseung hums against your mouth, hand squeezing your thigh a little harder.

The beat plays on, slow and grinding, a rhythm that sinks into your bones.

You start to move—tiny shifts of your hips in his lap, not even thinking about it. Just wanting to feel more of him, wanting to give more of yourself.

His breath stutters when you kiss down his jaw, over his stubbled chin, down the column of his throat.

You find the spot just behind his ear you know drives him crazy, and suck lightly at the skin there, your teeth grazing his earlobe.

He shudders beneath you, hips jerking up instinctively.

“Baby,” he groans, voice wrecked already. “You’re playing dirty.”

You smile against his neck, smug and sweet.

His hand moves up, sliding over your skirt, fingertips ghosting over the soft skin of your thigh, your hip, your waist—his touches light and teasing, but filled with a promise you know too well.

“Can’t help it,” you whisper. “You make it so easy.”

Heeseung laughs—low and breathless—and captures your mouth in another kiss, rougher this time, teeth nipping at your lower lip.

You’re dizzy with it—the taste of him, the feel of his body under yours, the sound of his music wrapping around you both like a spell.

Heeseung leans back in his chair slightly, dragging you even closer onto his lap.

You can feel his hardness pressing against your thigh now, hot and demanding through the fabric of his sweats.

“You feel that, pretty girl?” he murmurs against your mouth. “You do that to me.”

His hands trail down your body — tracing the curve of your waist, the soft dip of your exposed belly button and the flare of your hips over the tight fabric of your skirt.

You whimper, grinding down just slightly—enough to make you both gasp. Heeseung growls softly, gripping your hips to hold you still.

“Fuck,” he breathes.“If you keep doing that I’m gonna fuck you right here, baby.”

You blink down at him, pupils blown wide, heart hammering.

“Maybe that’s what I want,” you whisper back.

Heeseung stares at you for a second—like you’ve just undone every bit of his control—and then he’s standing, sweeping you up in his arms so fast you squeal.

One of his arms hooks under your thighs, the other around your back, lifting you off like you weigh nothing. 

The world tilts as he turns, heading toward the back of the studio — toward the worn, familiar couch tucked against the wall. 

The one that’s seen its share of late nights and lazy, heated sessions, and that’s about to witness another.

He sets you down in front of it carefully, but he doesn’t let go. Not even for a second.

His hands roam — reverent, greedy — tracing up your sides, over the curve of your waist, along the bare skin peeking out between your top and skirt.

“God, look at you,” he breathes, voice wrecked.

And then slowly, teasingly, he reaches for the hem of your white tube top.

His fingertips skim up your sides, dragging the fabric higher, baring more and more skin as he goes.

You lift your arms obediently, heart pounding, and Heeseung peels the top off you, tossing it somewhere behind him without a second thought.

His eyes darken immediately.

You’re not wearing a bra, just delicate little silicone pasties covering your nipples—a teasing, playful barrier he hadn’t expected.

Heeseung’s throat works as he swallows hard, chest rising and falling faster.

“Fuck,” he whispers, voice laced with awe. “Baby…”

You smile, slow and mischievous, and reach up, peeling the pasties off one by one—teasing, slow—watching the way his gaze tracks every movement, hungry and helpless.

When your bare breasts are finally exposed to him, Heeseung lets out a heavy, shaky breath, like he’s trying—and failing—to hold himself back.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he mutters, hands finding your waist again, sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing softly over your nipples, pulling a breathy moan from you. Heeseung groans, deep in his chest, thumbs circling, caressing, worshipping.

“My beautiful, perfect girl.” he murmurs.

You arch into his hands instinctively, chasing his touch, and he rewards you with a lazy, heated kiss, tongue teasing yours, slow and filthy.

When he finally moves again, it’s to sink down to his knees in front of you, hands finding the waistband of your skirt.

“Been thinking about this since I saw you,” he admits, voice hoarse. “Peeling this off. Seeing what’s mine.”

He presses a kiss to your belly button, making you both chuckle a little. He drags the skirt down slowly—agonizingly slow—his palms tracing the curves of your hips, your thighs, as he goes.

The skirt falls to the floor in a soft puddle around your ankles.

You stand there now in just a simple pair of white panties—sweet, delicate, almost innocent—and Heeseung visibly twitches in his sweats at the sight of you.

You bite your lip, feeling a wicked thrill pulse through you.

You can see the bulge straining against the fabric of his pants—see how much he wants you, how much he’s holding back for you.

“See what you do to me, pretty girl?” he rasps, running his hands slowly up your calves, your knees, your thighs—every touch a brand, every inch a silent worship.

You reach for him, fingers curling into the front of his hoodie, tugging him closer.

“Show me, Hee,” you whisper.

His eyes flash—dark, dangerous, beautiful—and he surges up, capturing your mouth in a desperate, bruising kiss.

Heeseung’s hands roam everywhere at once—cupping your breasts, gripping your thighs, sliding under your panties to palm the heat between your legs.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he growls against your mouth, fingers teasing your slit,making you gasp and writhe under him.

“All this,” he whispers, dragging his fingers up to rub slow circles against your clit, “just for me?”

“Always,” you whimper, with a dazed smile.

Heeseung smiles and leans in, nipping your jaw lightly.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Heeseung whispers, voice rough and low, his hands warm and possessive, now on your thighs.

But he doesn’t move to undress yet.

No—he stays fully clothed, looming over you, looking down at you like he’s starving.

And you know him well enough to recognize that glint in his eyes—the one that means he wants devour you.

He leads you to sit on the couch and leans in, mouth finding your breast—and for a moment, he just breathes you in, his nose brushing the curve of your skin, his lips ghosting over the soft swell.

Then he kisses you there: open-mouthed, wet, hungry, but not hurried. Never hurried.

Heeseung savors you, dragging his mouth across your breast, tasting every inch, pressing kisses along the delicate slope before finally closing his lips around your nipple.

You gasp, arching up into him instinctively.

His tongue flicks softly at first—light, teasing laps that make you whine—then he sucks harder, pulling your nipple into the hot, wet heat of his mouth, rolling it gently between his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

Your hands fly to his hair, tugging helplessly.

Heeseung hums against your skin—a deep, pleased sound that vibrates through your chest—then moves to your other breast, giving it the same slow, worshipful attention.

He suckles, slow and filthy, hands squeezing your waist, your hips, like he’s trying to ground himself.

“You taste so good everywhere,” he murmurs against you, the vibrations of his voice shooting straight down between your legs.

You can feel your panties sticking to you now, wet and clinging, and you know he feels it too—his hands sliding lower, thumbs brushing just under the waistband teasingly, making you writhe.

Then, without a word, Heeseung drops to his knees again, kneeling between your spread thighs like you’re something holy.

His hands slide up your thigh slowly, thumbs pressing gently into the soft flesh as he takes it and spreads it as he leans in.

And then he kisses you right over the wet fabric of your panties. A gasp rips from your throat, sharp and desperate.

Heeseung groans softly, mouthing at your clothed pussy, his tongue dragging a slow, lazy stripe over the soaked cotton, making sure you feel everything through the thin barrier.

You whimper, hips bucking up into his mouth, but he just holds you down, big hands pressing into your thighs, keeping you still, helpless under his teasing.

“You’re so wet already,” he murmurs against you, breath hot and damp.

“Fuck, baby. You’re dripping through your panties.” You feel him smirk against you—‘cocky bastard’ you think—and then he licks a slow, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your clit, pressing his mouth against the fabric like he wants to taste you through it.

You whimper his name, hips grinding against his mouth desperate for more. Heeseung chuckles—low and sinful—and pulls back just enough to admire the growing wet patch between your legs.

“Look at this,” he murmurs, voice thick with need. “All for me.”

You can barely breathe—barely think—and he’s still fully dressed, still teasing, still completely in control.

You reach for him blindly, tugging at the hem of his hoodie.

“Off,” you plead, lust lacing your words. “Please, Hee… want you.”

Heeseung’s eyes darken even further, and finally, finally, he relents.

“Anything for you, pretty girl,” he says, voice pure filth wrapped in velvet.

He stands up slowly, grabbing the hem of his hoodie and pulling it off in one smooth motion—baring his lean, strong torso to you, the faint lines of his abs flexing as he moves.

You see the thin sheen of sweat on his skin, the flushed heat spreading across his chest.

Next, his sweats—he pushes them down, revealing his cock, thick and flushed, curved up toward his belly, a bead of pre-cum leaking from the tip.

Heeseung stands over you, fully naked now, chest heaving, cock flushed and leaking, and you can’t help it—your mouth waters at the sight of him.

You sit up slowly, feeling the heat between your legs throb with need, but right now, you want him to fall apart first.

Your fingers wrap around the base of his cock—hot, thick, pulsing under your touch—and Heeseung hisses between his teeth, hips jerking slightly.

“Baby…” he groans, voice strained, his hand instinctively finding the back of your head, fingers threading gently into your hair, grounding himself against the overwhelming need clawing through him.

You look up at him through your lashes, catching the wild, glassy look in his dark eyes—and then you lean forward and press a soft, tender kiss to the leaking tip of his cock.

Heeseung shudders violently, a broken sound escaping his throat.

“Fuck, baby—”

You smile and then drag your tongue in a long, slow stripe from the very base of his shaft all the way up to the head, lapping at the bead of pre-cum there like you’re savoring the taste of him.

Heeseung’s fingers tighten in your hair, a ragged breath tearing from his chest.

“God, you’re gonna kill me,” he rasps, hips twitching helplessly.

You hum against him, then part your lips and take him into your mouth—slowly, teasingly, letting the thick head of his cock glide over your tongue, feeling the heavy weight of him stretch your mouth deliciously.

Heeseung groans—a deep, helpless sound that makes you clench around nothing.

He’s trying so hard to stay still, trying so hard not to thrust into your mouth like he’s desperate to.

You take him deeper, inch by inch, feeling the slick, heated slide of his cock over your tongue, down your throat.

Your jaw aches slightly, but you don’t care—you want him, want all of him, want to taste and feel and ruin him.

His hand cradles the back of your head tenderly, thumb stroking the side of your neck, his body trembling under your worship.

“That’s it, babygirl,” he moans, his voice a wrecked, broken thing. “Taking me so good. Ah-!”

You bob your head slowly, building a lazy, messy rhythm, hollowing your cheeks, swirling your tongue around the sensitive underside of his cock every time you pull back.

Drool slips from the corner of your mouth, slicking his shaft, and Heeseung swears under his breath, his hips giving tiny, helpless thrusts he can’t seem to control anymore.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby,” he gasps, warning you, giving you the chance to pull away—but you don’t.

You dig your nails into his thighs. You take him deeper, suck harder—own the way he falls apart for you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Heeseung moans, thighs trembling, and then he’s spilling into your mouth, hot and thick and overwhelming.

You hold him deep, swallowing every drop, feeling him pulse and jerk on your tongue, listening to the desperate, broken sounds he makes as you milk him through it.

When he finally stills, panting like he just ran a marathon, you pull back slightly, opening your mouth wide—showing him his release pooling in your mouth, mixing with your saliva. 

You swirl it with your tongue. Heeseung groans, low and filthy, eyes dark and blown wide with lust and awe.

“Jesus, baby,” he chokes out. “You’re fucking perfect.”

You hold his gaze, smiling around the filthy mess he gave you—and then you swallow, slow and deliberate, throat working visibly.

Heeseung watches you like he’s ready to fall to his knees.

“Come here,” he rasps, grabbing your face in both hands, pulling you up into a messy, hungry kiss—almost like he needs to taste himself on your lips, like he can’t stand another second without you.

The kiss is filthy; wet and open-mouthed and desperate, his tongue tangling with yours, his body shuddering against you.

Heeseung breaks the kiss first—panting against your lips, trembling slightly. His hands roam your body like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, like he needs to touch every inch of you to believe you’re real.

He moves instinctively to guide you back down onto the couch, trying to lay you out beneath him, to worship you like he promised.

But you don’t let him.

You press your palms flat against his chest, feeling the rapid drum of his heart, and gently push.

Heeseung blinks up at you, dazed, confused, completely gone for you.

You don’t say a word.

You just look at him—eyes dark, lips swollen, body humming with power—and he obeys immediately, sinking back onto the couch with a soft, wrecked sound.

You stand up—barefoot, bare-chested, in nothing but those damp, clinging white panties.

His gaze devours you—moving slowly up the length of your legs, your thighs, your hips, your waist, your breasts.

He looks hungry, helpless, wrecked—like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

You turn around slowly—giving him your back—and Heeseung lets out a shaky breath, his hands gripping the edge of the couch like he’s physically restraining himself from grabbing you.

You glance over your shoulder at him—smirking softly—and then hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Teasing.

You peel the fabric down inch by agonizing inch—over the curve of your ass, your thighs, your knees—moving with a lazy, sensual roll of your hips.

Heeseung’s breath hitches sharply behind you.

You can feel his gaze like a physical caress, heavy and searing on your bare skin.

When the panties slip past your knees, you feel a slick, sticky pull and as the panties slide down, a thin, glistening string of slick stretches from your soaked pussy to the fabric.

You hear it—the broken, helpless sound Heeseung makes.

“Fuck,” he chokes out, voice rough and raw. “Baby…”

You glance back again, catching the way his eyes are locked on the obscene sight, his hands now fisted tight against his thighs, his cock twitching visibly, already painfully hard again.

You let the panties fall to the floor, and step out of them gracefully, kicking them aside.

You don’t rush.

You don’t speak.

You just let him watch—let him see everything—the bare, plump curve of your thighs, the perfect curve of your ass, the slick shining between your legs, all for him.

You reach behind yourself—slowly, lazily—and run your fingers along the inside of your thigh, up to the slick heat between your legs, gathering it on your fingertips deliberately.

Heeseung swears again—a filthy, desperate sound—and you hear the faint thud of his head dropping back against the couch, as if the sight of you is too much to survive.

You turn around slowly to face him—naked, wet, radiant in the soft golden light of the studio—and you see him: completely undone. Eyes blown wide, lips parted, chest heaving.

Heeseung looks at you like you’re a goddess, a dream, something he’s too fucked to deserve but too in love to resist.

“Come here, baby,” he rasps, voice so rough it scrapes the air.

You take your time—walking toward him slowly, hips swaying, slick still shining between your thighs—and watch the way his jaw clenches, his fingers twitching like he’s dying to grab you.

But he doesn’t move.

He lets you come to him.

Lets you keep control, because he wants to see what you’ll do next. Because he trusts you completely. And you’re not done driving him crazy yet.

You climb onto his lap slowly, swinging one leg over him, feeling his hands automatically come to rest on your hips like magnets pulled to steel.

Heeseung looks up at you, flushed, breathless, wrecked.

Like you’re something holy.

Like you’re everything.

You settle onto his thighs, feeling the hard, hot weight of his cock pressing against your soaked folds.

His chest rises and falls quickly under you, every muscle in his lean body tight with restraint, with need.

You lean in, pressing your mouth to his in a messy, hungry kiss. It’s not soft, it’s desperate—tongues tangling, teeth clashing, hands grabbing.

You swallow his gasps, he swallows your whimpers.

It’s filthy and beautiful all at once.

While your mouths stay locked, you start to move your hips—slowly grinding your dripping pussy along his cock, slicking him up, teasing both of you with the obscene wet sounds filling the room.

Heeseung groans into your mouth, his hands flexing on your hips as he fights the urge to thrust up into you.

“Baby…” he breathes, voice cracking. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

You keep sliding up and down his length, the heavy weight of him dragging against your clit every time you grind your hips forward, making you gasp into his mouth.

Every pass smears your arousal over his cock, coating him, making him harder, hotter, pulsing between your thighs.

It’s slow torture—for both of you—but you love the way he falls apart under you.

You love how helpless he looks, how beautiful he is when he’s wrecked for you.

Eventually, you pull back from the kiss—panting, both of you dazed and shaking. You catch his bottom lip between your teeth—biting it, tugging it gently—before letting it go with a wet pop.

Heeseung’s eyes flutter closed for a second—like even that small act is enough to destroy him.

You sit up straighter, still grinding lazily, feeling his cock twitch under you.

Then, without breaking eye contact, you reach behind yourself, your fingers wrapping around the slick, hot length of him.

Heeseung’s hips jerk up instinctively, but you press him back down with a hand on his chest, smirking.

“Easy, baby,” you whisper.

Heeseung whines softly—actually whines—and you almost feel bad for how desperate he looks.

Almost.

You line him up with your entrance, the fat, swollen head of his cock pressing against your soaked, aching pussy and you both freeze there for a second, the air thick and electric between you.

You look into his eyes—really look—and see everything: the love, the lust, the devotion, the helpless awe.

And then he whispers.

“I love you,”

His voice rough and raw and so full of everything he is.

It knocks the air from your lungs. The way he says it, like it’s a prayer, like it’s a promise.

You smile, heart splitting wide open, leaning in just enough to press your forehead to his.

“I love you too,” you whisper back.

And then you sink down onto him—slowly, deeply, completely—taking him inside inch by inch, stretching around him, filling yourself with all of him.

You both moan—loud, helpless, raw—clutching at each other like you might fall apart without the connection.

Heeseung’s hands tighten on your hips, but he doesn’t move.

He lets you have this—lets you take him exactly how you want, exactly how you need.

You bottom out, feeling the thick, aching stretch of him seated fully inside you, the way he fits so perfectly it’s almost unbearable.

You stay there for a moment—both of you shaking, gasping, barely holding on—and then you start to move.

Slow.

Lazy.

Sensual.

Grinding your hips in tight circles, rocking up and down on his cock, feeling every thick, delicious drag of him inside you.

Heeseung watches you, completely wrecked and completely in love. He lets you ride him at your own pace, his mouth dropping open in awe every time you sink down onto him again.

“You’re so hot,” he breathes, voice breaking. “So fucking perfect, my love.”

You smile through the haze of heat and pleasure—because he means it. You know he means every single word.

“So you keep saying.”

You ride him slow, deep, deliberate—grinding down onto him with every roll of your hips, taking him deeper than should be possible, making both of you gasp and shudder with every wet, filthy slap of skin on skin.

Heeseung groans beneath you, his head tipping back against the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to breathe through the pleasure.

His hands can’t stay still.

One slides down — grabbing a handful of your ass, fingers sinking into the soft flesh, squeezing like he can’t help himself.

The other moves up — cupping your breast, groping shamelessly, thumb flicking across your nipple, making you whimper.

“God, you feel so good,” he pants, eyes glassy and wild, hips jerking up instinctively every time you grind down onto him.

You lean forward, hands braced on his shoulders, grinding your clit against the hard line of his pelvis with every movement, chasing more friction, more heat.

Heeseung surges up slightly—mouth finding your neck—and he kisses you there, messy and wet and hungry.

His tongue drags sloppily over your throat, mouth sucking at the sensitive skin just below your ear, teeth scraping lightly, leaving tingling trails in his wake.

You shiver violently, gasping, riding him harder without meaning to.

You know what he’s doing—know he’s trying to mark you up again, claim you in the most primal way he knows how.

You feel his mouth linger, sucking harder for just a moment, and you slap his shoulder lightly, breathless.

“Hee,” you gasp, half laughing, half moaning. “Don’t leave too many… You know I hate covering them up.”

Heeseung chuckles—low, filthy and so fucking smug.

But he doesn’t pull away.

Instead, he licks the spot he just sucked—tongue slow and hot against your skin—and murmurs against you:

“You look so beautiful wearing my marks, baby.”

You feel it—the deep throb of want at his words—and you clench around him hard, making him groan into your neck.

“You’re mine,” he whispers against your pulse, voice thick with love and lust and something darker underneath. “Only mine.”

You whimper, riding him faster now, grinding rougher, harder, your thighs starting to tremble with the effort.

The knot in your belly pulls tighter, heat building low and deep, your orgasm coiling inside you like a fuse about to snap.

Heeseung feels the change instantly. The hand playing with your tits slides down until his fingers find your clit.

He rubs tight, fast circles against the swollen bundle of nerves—perfect, relentless pressure—and the sensation is devastating.

You cry out—a raw, broken sound—your body clenching around him so hard he gasps, hips jerking up into you.

“That’s it, baby,” he pants, eyes locked on yours, voice almost frantic. “Cum for me. Wanna feel you squeeze me. Wanna feel you lose it on my cock.”

You grind down harder, chasing the friction, the heat, the desperate need clawing through you.

You’re so close.

You can feel it—your walls fluttering around him, your legs trembling, your mind going white with the overwhelming pleasure building inside you.

Heeseung keeps working your clit, keeps whispering filthy, beautiful things against your skin—and you break.

Your orgasm hits like a tidal wave—huge and devastating.

It starts in your pussy—a sharp, blinding pulse deep inside—and then spreads outward, a fiery flood through your thighs, your belly, your chest, your vision blurring around the edges with the force of it.

You cry out, body seizing, back arching—blinded by pleasure, blinded by him.

Your mind whites out for a moment—but even through the shuddering, searing waves of your orgasm, you’re still aware of him underneath you. 

Still aware of Heeseung’s cock, thick and hot, buried deep inside you. Still aware of his desperate moans, the way his hands clutch at your hips, trying to hold on.

You falter — just for a second — hips stuttering as the pleasure overloads you, but you don’t stop.

You refuse to stop.

You force yourself to keep moving—grinding down onto him, riding him through it, milking him with every slow, trembling roll of your hips, even as your own body shudders uncontrollably.

And then you feel it—feel him chasing you into the abyss.

Heeseung’s cock twitches violently inside you, and his breath breaks apart into guttural, frantic moans.

“Baby,” he gasps—voice shredded, desperate. “Baby, I’m gonna cum—”

You clench around him—deliberately—tightening your pussy around his pulsing length, dragging another helpless, broken groan from him.

You feel him jerk, feel the first thick pulse of his orgasm spill into you, hot and overwhelming, flooding you deep inside.

Heeseung cums hard — hips thrusting up helplessly into you, hands fisting in the meat of your hips, trying to anchor himself as you ride him through it.

You don’t let up.

You keep moving, slow and filthy and relentless, grinding down against him, coaxing every last spurt of cum from his cock.

Milking him dry.

You feel every twitch, every pulse—feel the way he tries to thrust up into you weakly, instinctively—feel the way his body trembles under yours, totally undone.

And you match him—your body clenching when he pulls back, relaxing when he pushes in, drawing him deeper, squeezing around him, refusing to let him go until there’s nothing left to give.

It’s too much—for both of you—the overstimulation bordering on unbearable, pleasure bleeding into pain, into something even deeper, even more raw.

Heeseung’s head falls back against the couch, his throat exposed, mouth open in a silent moan, eyes screwed shut as he rides it out.

You shudder through aftershocks, clinging to his shoulders, both of you shaking, sweating, completely ruined together.

Finally—finally—when his last drop is buried inside you, when your bodies can’t handle a second more—you collapse against his chest, trembling, both of you gasping for breath.

Heeseung wraps his arms around you instantly—holding you so tightly it almost hurts—pressing messy, desperate kisses to your hair, your shoulder, your neck.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, voice still wrecked. “I love you so, so much, my love.”

You nuzzle into him, feeling his cum leak slowly from between your thighs, feeling the messy, beautiful reality of what you just did together.

You smile weakly against his skin, your heart swollen and aching with how much you love him.

You don’t say anything.

You don’t have to.

He knows.

And so you stay there—tangled, trembling, filled—as the room hums softly around you, as the studio lights blur in your vision, as the world narrows down to just you and Heeseung, still breathing each other in.

[wolvietxt]

𝓓ISTANCE.

pairing : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : slightly suggestive, implied age gap, super light barely there angst, implied size diff, fluff, established relationship au, petnames summary : you miss your boyfriend more than anything, even though he’s currently sitting right next to you wc : 1.7k

the apartment felt too big, even with frank sitting just a few feet away. he was at the kitchen table, leaned back in one of the rickety chairs, his broad shoulders and solid frame making the furniture look almost laughably small. he was nursing a beer, gaze trained out the window like there was something out there worth watching.  

but you weren’t looking out the window. you were watching him, the way his forearm flexed when he tipped the bottle to his lips, the way his jaw ticked as he thought about whatever was running through that head of his.  

frank castle, in all his quiet intensity, was here. but for some reason, it felt like he wasn’t, and you hated it more than anything.

“are you all good over there?” you asked, breaking the silence.  

he didn’t turn to look at you, but his lips twitched at the sound of your voice. “yeah, baby, m’fine. just thinkin’.”  

“you’ve been thinking all day,” you mumbled begrudgingly, leaning against the couch and crossing your arms.  

this time, he did glance at you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “what’s wrong?”  

“nothing.” you bit your lip, shifting under his gaze, feeling the pout start to form on your lips. the truth was, you missed him - his touch, his warmth, the way he always made you feel so safe without even trying. but saying that out loud felt silly, especially when he was right there.  

frank, however, didn’t let much slide. “don’t look like nothin’,” he said, setting the bottle down and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “you gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?”  

you hesitated, cheeks warming under his scrutiny. “it’s dumb.”  

“you know i don’t care if it’s dumb, sweetheart,” he said, his tone softening. “what‘s the matter?”  

you huffed, feeling a little ridiculous but knowing he wasn’t going to let it go. “i just… really miss you, i guess.”  

frank frowned, confusion flickering across his face. “miss me? i’m right here.”  

“i know,” you said quickly, looking away, feeling small under the weight of his gaze. “it’s stupid, i know. but it’s like… you’re here, but you’re not really here, you know?”  

he didn’t say anything right away, and the silence made you fidget. finally, he let out a quiet chuckle, the sound low and warm. “c’mere.”  

you blinked, looking back at him. “what?”  

“i said, c’mere,” he repeated, sitting back in his chair and holding out a hand. “if you miss me so much, then come over here, baby.”  

you felt your cheeks heat even more, but you didn’t hesitate. pushing yourself off the couch, you crossed the small space between you and slipped into his lap, your arms looping around his neck instinctively.  

frank’s hands settled on your hips, big and warm and steady, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief at the contact.  

“that better?” he asked, his voice teasing but gentle.  

“a little,” you admitted, resting your head against his shoulder.  

his chest rumbled with a quiet laugh, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “needy little thing, aren’t you?”  

“maybe,” you mumbled, nuzzling closer.  

“it’s cute,” he said, his hands moving up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes. “you’re cute.”  

you tilted your head to look up at him, your heart fluttering at the softness in his gaze. “you think so?”  

“yeah,” he murmured, his lips twitching into a small smile. “damn adorable.”  

you felt a little ridiculous, sitting there in his lap, your arms tight around his neck like you couldn’t get close enough. but it didn’t matter. the way frank’s hands were soothing your back, the way he was looking at you, made everything else disappear. you weren’t aware of the world outside the two of you anymore, just the warmth of his chest beneath your cheek and the steady beat of his heart that you could feel through the thin fabric of his shirt.  

"so you really miss me, huh?" frank's voice was low, a bit rougher than usual, but there was no mocking in it. just something soft, something a little unexpected.  

you nodded, unable to say anything else. your fingers idly traced the line of his jaw, the stubble there a little rough against your touch. you could feel your heart race just being this close to him.  

“that’s cute,” frank murmured, his voice a little softer now as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer. "you know you're all i need, right?"  

“yeah, but you’re still so far away sometimes,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his neck as you settled against him more comfortably, your body fitting into his with an ease that surprised you.  

he tensed for a moment, but it wasn’t from discomfort. he just seemed… caught off guard by your neediness, the way it pulled at something inside him. you could feel his breath hitch when you nuzzled closer, the tip of your nose brushing his collarbone.  

“it’s not far away,” he said softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “just been distracted, sweetheart. i’m here now.”  

you melted a little more at his words, your heart swelling. "i know."  

frank leaned down, pressing his lips against your temple in a gentle kiss that made everything inside you feel light and soft. his large hands moved again, this time running up your back before settling at the back of your neck, fingers gently threading through your hair.  

“you get all soft like this, and i can’t resist,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.  

you laughed, the sound shaky but happy. “i’m not that soft.”  

“yeah, you are,” frank teased, his lips brushing against your jaw now as his fingers lightly massaged your scalp. “so damn cute. don’t know how you do it.”  

“do what?” you asked, your voice a little breathless from the closeness, the heat, the overwhelming affection in the air.  

“make me wanna kiss you all the time,” he said, the words soft but full of meaning. “make me wanna keep you close, make sure no one else gets the chance to take you from me.”  

you bit your lip, your hands sliding up to tug at the collar of his shirt, the movement a little desperate but filled with a need you couldn’t quite hide. “don’t want anyone else. just want you.”  

that made his chest rumble with a soft laugh, but this time, there was something undeniably tender in it. he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he looked at you with that soft intensity you rarely saw.  

“good. ‘cause i’m not lettin’ anyone take you,” he said, his lips curling into a smile.  

you could feel the playful energy crackling between you, even as it was all wrapped in something softer, something more intimate. you weren’t entirely sure how you’d gone from missing him to practically begging for his touch, but it didn’t matter. all that mattered was that he was here, pulling you in even closer, his hands a warm anchor against you.  

“come here,” frank murmured, his lips brushing yours in the faintest of kisses. “let me show you how much i want you too.”  

without waiting for a response, he tilted his head, his mouth capturing yours in a deeper kiss, more forceful than before, but still tender. it felt like an anchor, like a reassurance that this - whatever this was between you - was real.  

you let yourself fall into it, your hands roaming down his chest, feeling the solid muscles beneath his shirt, your fingers tracing the lines of his body like it was the first time you were allowed to touch him.  

his hands slid down your back, his grip tightening just enough to pull you even closer, his body pressing against yours in a way that had your heart skipping a beat.  

“you sure you’re alright?” frank asked against your lips, his voice heavy with desire but still laced with concern.  

“yeah,” you breathed out, your fingers tugging at the waistband of his pants, the simple touch making him exhale sharply. “i’m more than alright now.”  

he smirked against your mouth, pulling back just slightly to look at you. “thought you were just missin’ me, not all... this,” he teased, his voice low, filled with amusement and affection.  

“missed you,” you confirmed, voice thick with the need you could no longer hide. “missed everything. all of you.”  

there was something about the way he looked at you then, like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment. and you didn’t care how needy you seemed, didn’t care about anything other than him.  

frank brushed a lock of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering along your jaw. “you’re somethin’ else,” he muttered, eyes soft as he looked down at you.  

you smiled, finally feeling the weight of his attention in the most perfect way. “only for you, frank.”  

his lips quirked up in that familiar, barely there smile, his hands pulling you in again. “damn right, sweetheart.”  

and just like that, you were lost in him again, caught up in the softness of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, the undeniable need to be close to each other - always.

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[jayparked]

miscommunication - jay's version

PAIRING: best friend jay x female reader WORD COUNT: 3.9k GENRE: crack, smut ; mdni AU: best friends to lovers(finally) WARNINGS: punishment and pain kink, spanking, fingering, rough sex, begging, bondage, brat/brat tamer dynamics, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk, pet names, strong language SNAIL TRAIL: here are jay's texts AND his written part! thank you to @sungbeams for looking over this last minute and thank you to all my tickets in the jayparked's garage discord server💛 to get updates and previews on my work before they get posted, join here(18+)

♡ ot7 texts part one ; part two ; part three ; part four ; part five ; part six ; part seven; part eight ♡ ♡heeseung ; jay ; jake ; sunghoon ; sunoo ; jungwon ; riki♡

It all happened so fast.

One moment you were boldly texting your best friend something you never thought you’d have the courage to say. Thoughts and feelings you’ve been harboring for years finally spilling out, unable to keep any and all doubts about potentially ruining the greatest friendship you’ve ever had at bay. Harboring these feelings for so many years was driving you crazy and you just couldn’t help but test the waters a little bit to see if maybe, just maybe, there was a possibility that he could feel the same way about you.

And now? Said best friend has you bent over his lap, his strong hand massaging and rubbing the swell of your bare ass cheeks before smacking his palm against it.

Another strong smack with his fingers spread apart has you whimpering louder than before, squirming on his lap while your pussy drips with neglected attention. ��Jay…need you to touch me.”

“I don’t think you’re in any sort of position to be making demands,” he says coldly with another harsh hit. Your body lurches forward, eyes stinging with tears, but it’s the way Jay gently rubs at the flesh he just hit that has your heart fluttering in your chest. “You thought it was funny to play with my emotions? Hmm? Think you can just get away with whatever you want to me without any consequences?”

As soon as you open your mouth to answer him he lands another harsh hit to your ass, instantly squeezing your flesh so hard you can feel his nails breaking your skin. A loud gasp forces its way from your mouth along with an embarrassing droplet of drool. Your thighs are shaking, ass stinging from the repeated contact from Jay’s palms and the tears are finally starting to streak down your cheeks. Even still, your clit is pulsating, desperately awaiting some form of contact. 

“I’m sorry!” You finally give in. “Just…Jay please. I need something.”

“Something,” he mocks with a low chuckle, still massaging your bruised flesh, “You were so careless with your words before, why so shy now?”

Brain whirling in a desperate attempt to find some sort of comprehensible words, you glance over your shoulder to Jay’s lap. His black jeans are strained by his hard cock, a prominent tent beautifully on display right before your eyes. You always thought that actions spoke louder than words. So, you do the only sensible thing that comes to mind and pivot your body slightly and put both hands on his belt. 

“What do you think you’re-” Jay groans, cutting himself off when he feels your hands bump against his erection. You’re failing miserably to even get the leather out from his pant loops, let alone even begin to try to undo the stiff button and zipper. Huffing in frustration, you’re about to make some progress when Jay’s fingers curl around your wrist, stopping you completely.

You gulp loudly, braving a quick look up at him only to find his cold gaze already upon you. His jaw is stiff, the muscles flexing with each exhale he lets out through his flared nostrils. 

Jay exhales deeper, biting his tongue between the side of his teeth before speaking. “What do you think you’re doing?” Through gritted teeth the words send chills down your spine. For a moment, you brace yourself for another brutal spanking montage, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Jay patiently awaits your answer, his grip on your wrist only tightening.

“I-...I just-” you stammer pathetically. Jay raises an eyebrow at you and continues to wait. “I need you.”

Even though his dark eyes are narrowing, you see something shift, something so subtle you think you might be making it up – then his free hand is cupping the side of your cheek, gently moving along your cheekbone with his thumb, and it’s undeniably there: endearment.

All too quickly, the moment is gone.

Jay releases your wrist to undo his belt himself, fully removing it from the waist of his jeans. You excitedly lick your lips, watching and waiting for him to free himself so you can finally get a look at what he’s been hiding. But instead of tossing the belt and moving forward, Jay folds the belt in half, giving his palm a testing slap. It isn’t until his devilish smirk appears that you realize what he’s about to do.

“Jay! No! I’m sorry! I-”

Smack!

Warm pain blooms against your ass where the belt landed perfectly across both cheeks. Sharply inhaling, you try your best to keep your body calm, but your thighs are already shaking again, fresh tears threatening to spill as the sting continues to get worse. You’re about to speak, to make another attempt to protest against this harsh treament, but Jay is cruel and times his next hit perfectly. All that comes out of your mouth is a haggard sob, yet you can’t help the way your eyes roll back slightly, your clit still throbbing while you clench around nothing. It’s becoming too much. If you don’t feel any sort of contact soon you might just pass out.

“You’re such a brat,” he growls, leaning down to bite on your right ass cheek while he gropes the other. You cry out again, wondering if you’ll even be able to sit properly after this. Jay moans as you squirm, loving the way you’re whining and knowing you’re feeling so overstimulated and neglected at the same time.

Suddenly, Jay’s moving you off his lap and onto your back at the head of his bed. Body looming over yours, Jay grabs both of your wrists and thrusts them above your head, his face now inches from yours. Chest still moving rapidly with each haggard breath, Jay looks down at you with that focused stare of his, licking his lips slowly. “Hmm…I have an idea.” The belt comes back into your line of sight and for a moment, you’re slightly scared that he might use it on your clit or chest. You wonder what it would feel like, but also shiver with the thought of the continued torture.

Instead, Jay loops the belt strategically around your wrists and the headboard, completely trapping you in place.

“What?” You tug at your restraints, barely getting any slack.

“Since you can’t keep your hands to yourself and you love playing games, I figured this would be a good punishment for you.” Jay’s hands roam about your naked body freely now, savoring every bump and every curve of you. Wiggling your hips, you try to get free, but he has you fully trapped with both his legs on either side of yours.

“But I want to touch you!” You growl out in frustration, bucking your hips up again and forcing Jay to grab you by your hips to keep you steady.

“Who knew you’d be like this? God…” Jay’s hands begin to roam again now that you’ve calmed down slightly, still huffing at him nonetheless. “Has no one properly put you in your place before?” He laughs at your scowl, “I take that as a no…well it’s an honor to be the one to do it. Act like a brat, get punished like a brat. It’s that simple. Next time you can learn how to communicate like a big girl and just tell me you want me like a normal person instead of purposefully trying to get me riled up so I’ll make the first move.” He flicks a finger playfully against your perked nipple, chuckling again when you wince. 

Settling between your legs, Jay places both palms on your angled knees, rubbing them absentmindedly while pushing your legs apart – putting you on display. Just one look at your glistening folds has his head falling back with a groan, “Oh my god, look at you…damn.” Taking two of his fingers, Jay swipes them against your arousal. A long string connects from his fingers to your core, the sight completely lewd and has you shivering. Jay only groans again, moving his fingers up to his mouth before taking a deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut. Then, he opens his eyes and holds eye contact with you before slowly inserting his digits into his mouth, moaning as the sweet taste of you hits his tongue.

“Jay,” you whimper softly, “you’re making me go crazy.”

He scoffs out a laugh, licking his lips generously now that his fingers are back to your knees. Resuming his soft massages, Jay looks at you with dark clouded eyes. “I’m making you crazy? You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me these past few weeks.” He chuckles again, shaking his head before leaning closer, his face now inches from yours, “You’re going crazy? I’ve been going insane.”

A choked moan forces its way out of your throat because at the exact time he says ‘insane’ he ruts his clothed cock right over your core; the pressure sends an electric shock of pleasure throughout your body, finally feeling contact on your bundle of nerves after being neglected for so long. You desperately want to reach out and cling to his biceps, to dig your fingernails into his skin and finally tear those clothes off of him, but his belt still digs into your wrists. After a moment, you realize something that has you biting down on your bottom lip to suppress your smirk: your fists have been clenched this whole time. 

While Jay is distracted with rutting himself against you, you manage to slip your hands out of your restraints. Before Jay can even notice, your hands are pushing against his chest, knocking him onto his back with your legs now straddling on either side of his hips. You can’t stop the smirk from growing on your face, knowing it’ll only agitate Jay more.

You watch as his confused expression turns aghast. Jay lets out a warning chuckle, closely resembling a scoff as he’s shaking his head back and forth in disbelief. Misleadingly gentle, his hands come up to grab your hips, thumbs tracing over your curves. He takes a moment, eyes roaming unabashedly over your bare body. Adoration is clear in his gaze, but there’s a dark mix of something more, something hungry hiding behind his deep brown eyes.

It feels like you can finally relax, letting your hands roam over his toned chest without worrying about keeping him in place. 

But as soon as you lower your hips and attempt to grind on him, something shifts.

The grip Jay has on your hips tightens and soon enough, you’re laying on your back gasping for breath while he stares down at you. It’s his turn to smirk, proud at how easily he tricked you into thinking you had any sort of control.

“Cute,” he murmurs, dipping his head low to kiss along your jawline, “but not gonna happen.”

With a quick nip at your neck, Jay sits back and rolls you onto your stomach. Your heart is beating so loudly in your ears that you miss his instructions, resulting in another harsh smack against your ass.

“There’s no way a few spankings has you this out of it,” Jay murmurs, “I said put your hands behind your back.” When you don’t immediately do as you're told, Jay grunts and moves your hands to your back on his own. A cold, thick material presses around your wrists that you can only assume is the belt again. 

“Maybe this will teach you to keep your hands to yourself,” he grumbles, cinching the belt so tight around your wrists that you let out a muffled whimper.

Satisfied with his work, Jay leans back, his hands wandering over the expanse of your back down to the swell of your bruised ass before traveling back up again. It’s a simple touch, almost like a massage, yet the action has your breathing quickening, heart racing, and limbs restless as he, yet again, pushes your senses to their limit. Feeling his hands on your bare skin everywhere except where you need him most is torturous, your mind buzzing with the urge to throw a fit until you finally get what you want.

But that’s exactly what he’s hoping for.

You close your eyes and inhale slowly through your nose, exhaling only when you start to feel dizzy. Trying to keep your composure in this situation is one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do, but your pride is on the line, knowing that if you beg for Jay too eagerly you’ll never hear the end of it.

Lucky for you, Jay isn’t feeling very patient anymore.

Excitement bubbles too quickly in your chest when you hear the sound of his zipper. Craning your neck to try to get a look at him, you’re met with Jay’s growing smirk, hands now moving slower knowing you’re watching him. A low whimper escapes your lips, Jay’s eyes softening with weak fondness.

“Just be patient. I’m not trying to rush this,” Jay murmurs, his smile soft and genuine. It makes your heart flutter, seeing him like this especially after he just spent so long punishing you for teasing him for so long.

Finally, finally, you feel two of his fingers sliding between your folds. An embarrassingly loud moan leaves your lips, making you bite down on your lip hard to try to control yourself. But Jay just chuckles behind you, loving the way your body twitches from no longer being ignored. He sighs longingly, collecting your slick slowly between his fingers, teasing around your clit as he does so. All you can do is keep whimpering, still holding onto what little sanity you have left. You refuse to beg, refuse to apologize for what you’ve done to get yourself in this position.

Much to your surprise (and gratitude), it seems Jay has also forgotten about his plan to make you beg and plead for forgiveness with the way his fingers slowly push into your hole. Curling his fingers slowly, Jay groans quietly. You almost missed it, too distracted with the relief he’s coaxing out of you.

It doesn’t take long for the squelching sounds to fill the room, your arousal quickly coating Jay’s fingers while he diligently curls inside you. His pace is slow but consistent, easily keeping you in a state of bliss while still eager for more.

“Fuck,” Jay groans, “you’re shaking, baby. You need me this bad?”

All you can muster is a pathetic whimper, trying to sneakily move your hips to fuck yourself more on his fingers. You should have known better, though. Nothing gets past Jay, afterall.

With his free hand, Jay brings it down on your left asscheek, kneading your flesh after the abrupt hit. “So impatient. You could have had me all this time if you had only asked.”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” you whimper again, sighing contently when Jay’s finger brushes against your clit.

“And look where that got you; all pent up and being punished for your childish decisions. But don’t worry, my baby, I’m a patient man and will show you how to behave.” He kisses the spot between your shoulder blades, chills erupting throughout your skin while somehow leaving a burning feeling in his absence.

You try to move your head to the side so you can see him – needing eye contact before saying what you want to say. “Jay–,” Hair falls in your face, cutting off your train of thought. You groan before trying to blow it away with no luck. Chuckling fondly, Jay removes his fingers from your cunt and leans forward, taking his untainted hand to move the disarray strands from your face. Time slows for a moment when you finally see him and it feels like the universe has finally aligned in your favor. You forget all about the fact that your hands are restrained behind your back and your ass is throbbing with pain, but none of it matters because you’re here with him after all this time.

“I really like you, Jay.” 

He playfully rolls his eyes, blinking rapidly while biting his lip. The laugh he lets out is nervously joyful, his eyes softening despite his attempts to appear nonchalant. It feels so good to finally say the words out loud, confessing what’s been weighing on your heart for so long now.

“Well,” Jay says slowly, leaning closer to your face, “if it isn’t obvious…I really like you too, Y/n.” He leans in more, connecting your lips together despite the awkward angle. And it feels like the best kiss you could possibly have in a moment like this. Jay’s lips fit against yours perfectly, so soft, so comforting, so right.

When you finally pull apart, you watch as Jay’s gaze goes from warm and soft, to shadowed and devious. Your heart rate quickens, but before you have a chance to form a coherent thought, Jay sits up and is removing his shirt, barely within your peripheral view.

“I can’t wait any longer.” Jay’s words send a wave of excitement down to your core. You hear his clothes drop to the floor and you desperately want a view of him in all his naked glory. The feeling of something prodding at your hole jolts your system, completely unprepared for the intrusion. Jay’s hands grab your waist gently, repositioning your body to the angle he needs you in. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of Jay’s cock inside of you. Every curve, every vein is everything you need and more.

“Oh my god,” Jay swears, bottoming out in you, “you feel so perfect. This pussy was made for me.” A sharp smack on your ass has you yelping, completely caught off guard. “Why would you keep this from me for so long?” 

“I told you-”

Smack. The skin on your butt feels bruisingly hot, the sting so deep in your skin unlike anything you've ever felt before. And it feels so fucking good.

“Don’t talk back to me. Apologize. Tell me how sorry you are for keeping this pussy from me.” Him not moving and just sitting inside you is driving you crazy and you’ve had enough; no more holding onto your pride or sanity. You’re ready to lose it all and give anything you have as long as Jay asks for it.

“I’m sorry! Jay, please I’m sorry. I should have told you how I felt sooner.”

“Good fucking girl,” Jay growls and starts pistoning himself in and out of you, his grip tightening on your hips as he guides you into a perfect rhythm with his thrusts. You become a moaning mess, Jay’s pace unrelenting as he finally lets go of his control. The way his cock feels inside of you is a type of ecstacy you would never be able to conjure up in your wildest dreams.

“Oh, fuck!” You scream out when you feel the tip of Jay’s cock hitting the perfect spot. Even though he just started moving, it almost feels overstimulating. All the build up and teasing from before crashes over you in a drowning wave and all you can think about is how good he feels inside of you. He continues to set a steady pace, not faltering for even a moment when he leans down to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and out of your face. Your stomach flips at the small act of intimacy during such lewd and aggressive acts of sex.

It doesn’t take long before the knot in your stomach tightens to an unbearable depth. No one has ever made you get even close to an orgasm this quickly, let alone make you a blubbering mess underneath them. The way Jay handles your body…it’s like he’s known all along how you’ve needed to be handled. Maybe it’s the years of friendship coming into play, but the way your bodies connect and respond to one another feels natural, like it was meant to happen. There’s moments where you even catch yourself forgetting that this is the first time you’re having sex with him instead of the hundredth. But that will surely come in the future.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Jay coaxes you through your high, still languidly thrusting into you while you gasp beneath him, body shuddering and quivering from how hard your orgasm hit.

Once you regain some sort of composure, Jay flips you onto your back, your restrained hands digging into your spine. Tears are streaming down your face from everything: the overstimulation, the foreplay, the buildup, the orgasm. When Jay sees your tear stained face, his body stutters. He was just about to insert himself back into you when he sees what a mess he’s made of you. Before he can even insert the tip of his cock back inside you, hand still grasping his own base, he’s coming undone. Spurts of white cum hit all over your body from your chest to your stomach and down to your thighs. Jay’s groan has your heart beating even faster than before as you watch him lose himself at the sight of you, a sense of pride blooming in your chest at the fact that he came so hard just from looking at you.

“Fuck…that’s never happened to me before,” he’s breathing hard, trying to regain his calm demeanor to no avail, “just seeing you like that…I don’t know what came over me.”

“I know what came over me…” you mutter. Jay looks at you for a moment before bursting out in a fit of laughter, you following closely behind. Falling beside you, Jay tucks his head into the crook of your neck, molding his body against yours as your mutual laughter dies down. 

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, leaving a featherlight kiss to your neck before sitting up and freeing your wrists from the constraints of his belt. He tosses the belt aside and goes back to massage your wrists gently, looking into your eyes to make sure you’re feeling okay. You nod your head, whispering a quiet “thank you” before he stands up. Stretching, you get a chance to admire the muscles of his back and the way he stands so tall and steady. Something about it is reassuring and you can’t quite place your finger on it, but you know it’s a sight you’ll never get used to.

Disappearing into your bathroom, you hear the sound of running water and cabinet doors being opened and closed. Before long, Jay is in front of you again. Instead of handing you a bundled up wad of toilet paper like other guys have done in the past, Jay presses a warm washcloth against your skin, cleaning up the mess he left behind on your body. The warmth feels soothing, making you sigh and close your eyes as you let him take care of you. 

“Don’t fall asleep yet.”

You groan and roll onto your side facing him with your eyes still closed, “Why? You fucked me so hard I nearly passed out.”

“Because…” the sultry low tone of his voice has your eyes snapping open. Right in front of your face is Jay’s cock, fully erect with new beads of precum dribbling from his slit. Giving a light smack to your cheek with the tip of his dick, Jay chuckles seeing your widened eyes, “we’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for. And we’re just getting started.”

♡ pls like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! ♡ masterlist ♡ all rights reserved jayparked 04/11/25 do not copy, repost, or translate. if you're inspired to create something similar to my work, please credit me

[jinxvex]

Hiiiii! I love your work! Do you think you could do Vi x reader hcs where the reader is like very day-dreamy? Like head stuck in the clouds a lot? Tysm <33

♱ gf!vi x daydreamy gf!reader ♱

hey!! so excited to put something out 4 violet!!

you could interpret this as a modern!au or arcane!u 😌

cw: sfw & nsfw, dom!vi + sub!r, wholesome at the beginning, vi is an amazing and understanding gf, vi is v flirty, teasing, dirty talk, mild choking/slapping, possessiveness, dumbification, degradation/praise, vi's a bit condescending, etc!!

+ strap usage, she eats you out + uses her fingers!!

♱ vi LOVES the fact that you’re so daydreamy and always in your own world. she appreciates your uniqueness + the way your mind works!

♱ vi thinks you’re so adorable when you slowly trail off in the middle of speaking to her—the vibrant imagery, thoughts, and inner workings of your mind too overwhelming for you to handle! she lets you look off into the distance for a bit before you’re quickly scrambling to apologize for getting lost in your own head (again lol)!!

♱ she’s quick to shut down your apology with a, “nah, babe it‘s okay. take your time, yeah?” + “you in your own head again, huh?” (EVERY SINGLE TIME!)

♱ after boxing/the gym, she often comes home to your shared apartment to you blasting music through your headphones. you’re bopping your head and bouncing your leg at your desk. lost in how the music speaks to you and flows through your veins like a constant electric current. you don’t hear or even notice her until she comes up behind you, wraps her arms around your shoulders, and nuzzles her head into your neck, “whatcha doin’, pretty? what’re you listening to?” + “love comin’ home to you all happy and shit—makes my day sweetheart.”

♱ in public, when you’re walking together, holding hands, and enjoying each other's company in silence, you can’t help but get in your head! your brain buzzing with thoughts about how nice vi’s hand feels in yours and how nice they feel in… other places… all of a sudden, you’re not paying attention to where you’re going and she gets a little stern with you. before you run into anyone or anything she’s telling you to, “watch where you’re goin’, hmm?” + “careful, babe. don’t want you gettin’ hurt now, do we?”

♱ when you're upset, whether it be because you're self-conscious about something or having other negative thoughts, you get sort of locked in your own mind--endless flashes of darkness encompassing your headspace. when this happens she's whispering comforting praises into your ear, "it's okay, princess. 'm here. not goin' anywhere." and she's pulling you into her chest to tell you to, "listen to my heartbeat, come back to me." + "hey. hey, look at me, baby."

♱ vi nudges your cheek with her fingers to get your attention when your attention has strayed away from her, "talkin' to you, babe."

♱ she totally notices when you’re fantasizing about her.

WHAT!! who said that?! 🤭

nsfw incoming...

♱ you and vi love to partake in your separate hobbies while in each other’s presence so when she’s cooking, writing, or boxing in the corner(?), you’re almost always on the other side of the room reading a book. she knows the books you read get a little dirty. when she glances at you from across the room she isn’t surprised to see you staring off into the distance (again) with your book loosely resting in your lap. you’re biting your lip and pressing your thighs together. she smirks knowingly and stops what she’s doing to walk over to you, “what’s got you thinkin’, baby?” + “wanna show me what’s got you so worked up?”

♱ she won’t stop teasing you until you’re reading her the sentence that threw you in for a loop—thinking of her hands and mouth pleasuring you. images of her muscles rippling against your skin as she fucks you into the mattress with her strap momentarily stunning you.

♱ your daydream does become a reality when she's doing just that. minutes later. she's forcing you to make eye contact with her, to give her your full attention and focus when she has you in missionary with your legs propped up on her shoulders. her pace is brutal, plunging her strap deep into your cunt with her hand wrapped around your neck; choking you and holding your head in place so you can't look away.

♱ she's a sucker for dirty talk so you know she's all up in your ear like: "fuck, baby. yeahhh, yeah. look at me when you take this dick, pretty girl." + "don't want you goin' off in your own head when i'm fucking you, need you to see exactlyy how i'm treating this fuckin' pussy."

♱ she will NOT let you cum until she knows for sure that you aren't thinking of anything except for her—she wants your brain to be mush by the time she's done with you. she wants you to let go, fall, and trust that she'll catch you. take care of you.

♱ she's not afraid to rough you up a little if you aren't listening. she'd tap your cheek and tighten her grip on your throat as she stuffs you even fuller; as deep as she can go, "*thrust* look. *thrust* at. *thrust* me." she's drilling you now, "c'mon, babe, can't you follow a simple direction? or are you too cockdrunk to function?" + "yep, thaaat's it, baby."

♱ vi also enjoys eating you out from the back while she shoves her middle and ring finger into your sopping wet cunt. as she eats you out like it's her last meal on earth, tongue zigzagging and sloppily mouthing at your heat, her fingers are curling up against your g-spot. she knows your brain thinks nothing but her because of every whimper, moan, and chant. "yes, yes, fuck yes! right thereee, vi. fuuuck" you're practically screaming at the top of your lungs. not long after she's pulling her mouth off of you and rising up to lean over your back and dig her fingers deeper inside, "there, huh? that's what she needs, isn't it? pussy's swallowing my fingers whole. greedy girl."

feel free to send more reqs about vi!! love her real bad 🤠

[bernardsbendystraws]

ೃ࿔*:･ Snow .ᐟ Reader x FWB.ᐟ Matt

Matt wants to be your boyfriend.

⚠︎ crying, angst, fluff, mentions of smut, BITCH BUCKLE UP GET STRAPPED IN

[ Can be standalone. Previous - P1 P2 P3 ] → au masterlist

“I really liked today.” Your words looped in Matt’s mind for days at this point, the slight hum of your voice echoing in every corner of his thoughts. 

You liked it. The day he got to be your temporary boyfriend, you really liked it—enough to be vocal about it. He’s going insane. Right now his hands are combing through your hair, your head in his lap as you lay horizontally on his living room couch. 

You two haven’t had sex in a while, a longer stretch of abstinence than usual—but you’ve still been hanging out. In fact, you two have been hanging out more, enough to be reassured that there’s no reason to believe that the other is getting their sexual gratification elsewhere. 

God, even the thought of you being physically intimate with someone else made Matt sick—but the thought of you being emotionally intimate with someone else? It didn’t make him sick, it made him hurt, like his entire body was a bruise—even down to his bones. 

You peek over your shoulder, the sensation of Matt’s fingers stuttering in your hair pulling your attention to reality. “Hey…” you squint while noticing the slight gloss in his eyes as he blinks furiously, “-you okay?” 

His nose twitches. Matt nods quickly, his head bobbing before he licks over his teeth. “Yeah, I um—yeah. Just got lost in thought, you know?” 

“Oh?” you question, sitting up and swiveling your body to face directly towards him. “-whatcha thinkin’ so hard about?” 

His stomach drops at the words. He knows what he was thinking so hard about, he’s just not sure if he should say it, this is all too confusing—too complicated. But his bones hurt. Every invading anxiety pulses through his body—the thought of you with someone else, the thought of you giving a different person everything he’s begged the moon for with endless tears on countless nights. 

He doesn’t wanna be selfish, but he feels like he’s dying without having you all to himself. 

Matt shakes his head with a deep sigh, staring into his lap. He watches as your hand rubs over his knee comfortingly, an affection that you would have never even considered a month ago. 

“Somethings changed.”

His words make you stiff. Your spine straightens as you breath stutters in your chest, an uncomfortable lump of emotion piling onto your heart as you roll your lips together. 

“What—what do you mean?” you ask. 

Matt reaches his hand downward, tangling his fingers through your with your hand that rests on his knee. He can’t help but smile as he notices you hold onto him. His thumb circles the back of your palm, the heat of your touch pulsing through his body with a healing aura—one that brings him enough clarity to truly speak.

“It’s changed. I know, you know it. C’mon…” he gapes looking over at you, your eyes dwindling over him with a glaze of an unreadable emotion, one that makes him want to say everything. “-you said you liked me being your boyfriend for the day. You even let me be your boyfriend the next day and we both know that wasn’t…I don’t know…necessary? I—you want this, you want this as bad as me, I just—I just wish you’d acknowledge it.” 

Oh.

Oh.

Your brain rummages through doubts and insecurities, your eyes watering as you try to hold his stare. You can’t look at him, but you also can’t look away. The second you try to glance down towards your lap, Matt lowers his head to keep his eyes on yours, using his free hand to gently lift your chin up. 

You swallow thickly, your vision blurred as you try to furiously blink away tears. 

It’s not a new thought. You’ve let the idea of him being your actual boyfriend haunt your daydreams constantly, you’ve been drifting towards thoughts of him during quiet moments a lot. You didn’t wanna admit it to him, let alone yourself.

But now he’s left you no choice. There’s nowhere left to run or hide, there’s the truth and a certain glint in his eyes that hypnotizes you to let your heart speak—to truly let it all out. 

“I…I—ugh.” 

Your eyes squint shut, the pressure building on your chest as it radiates an uncomfortable heat. Matt squeezes your hand tighter, his voice soft and melodic as he speaks, “Hey,” your eyes peak open. The reassurance of his voice and his touch makes your lungs reach for a full breath of air. “-it’s okay, take your time. We don’t have to talk about it now. We—we can go at our own pace, do whatever we want, I just…I just wanna be here, with you. That’s enough for me right now.” 

A gulp echoes from your mouth as you nod slowly. Matt pats his lap, smiling as you slowly start to shift before planting yourself in his hold. However, you don’t straddle him like you usually do. Matt’s face scrunches before it falls completely. 

You’re letting him cradle you like a baby—like a bride. One of his arms is holding the back of your head, the other laced beneath your legs as he tugs you closer to his chest, planting a dangerously gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“Are you—are you sure? I just—I don’t know how to say it and I–”

Everything is so overwhelming. The second you start to speak, your voice wobbles, your lips trembling as you feel a warm wetness glide down your cheek. 

“I’m sure, baby—I—’m sure,” he coos, leaning his cheek onto your head as he feels your hands twist into his shirt while your body vibrates with soft cries. 

It’s enough. 

A/N: Where's my kiss @sturnsblogs @chrisbratt333 ???

·˚ ༘ ʚ 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒔, 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆 𖧧

꒰ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ๑ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ๑ 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ꒱

[kooklovee]

Holding on to you - JJK

Sequel to Hold on to me

Pairing - CeoHusband!Jungkook x Wife!Reader

Genre - fluff, slice of life, established relationship au

Drabble - 1.8k words

Warnings - fluff, domestic intimacy, kisses, soft moments, jungkook making up to his wifey💞, mention of sex?

a/n - finallyy😮‍💨🥹 did you miss this couple coz I definitely did😭🩷

divider credit - @uzmacchiato

Masterlist

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The moment you step inside, the door barely clicks shut behind you, as Jungkook turns -swooping down, taking you in his arms.

You gasp, “Jungkook!”

But you can’t help the laugh that escapes when he lifts you effortlessly, grinning with his bunny smile.

“You’re ridiculous,” you giggle, arms looping around his neck as he carries you towards the couch.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a peck to your forehead. “But you love me.”

You hum, trailing your fingers over his collarbone. “Debatable.”

“Liar.”

You laugh, letting yourself melt into him.

He settles down with you in his lap, not bothering to let go just yet. You’re still catching your breath when he leans in, peppering kisses to your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your lips.

You squirm, squeaking as he plants one right beneath your ear. “Kook, that tickles!”

“Good,” he murmurs smiling, brushing his nose against your skin.

There's still the faint scent of vanilla lingering from the candle he'd lit earlier. You’d gone for a walk together, fingers intertwined as you strolled lazily along the park, with your husband stealing glances at you, tugging your hand closer each time, pressing fleeting kisses to your temple.

It’s been over a month since your anniversary.

A month since he’d stood in your kitchen, drenched in guilt and apologies.

A month since your heart had cracked with doubt, and Jungkook had promised- desperately, that he’d make things right.

Which he had.

After the night of your anniversary, he had taken a full week off, despite your gentle protests, despite his assistant’s horrified texts. He switched off his work phone, told the world to wait.

Because he wanted to be just Jungkook, your husband. Not the Ceo. Not the exhausted workaholic he'd turned himself into. But only truly entirely yours.

On the days Jungkook took off, and even now when he's back from work, he’s like a puppy glued to your side, trailing behind you from room to room, arms always ready to wrap around you.

Whether you're doing the laundry, reaching for a snack, or just walking to the other side of the house, he's right there, chin on your shoulder or fingers laced with yours. He didn’t need to speak much- simply held you, making his presence a silent reassurance.

You try to act unbothered, but inside, you're nothing but soft giggles and all butterflies.

In the weeks that followed, it became clear that your husband was trying, truly trying. Through his soft form of everyday love.

You went out to dine together, held hands across tables, slow danced in the living room.

It had felt like falling in love with him all over again.

Jungkook comes home early now. He’s been doing that- choosing you, over and over, every day for the past month. No late-night meetings. No missed dinners. Just soft promises that is always kept.

Even when he's at the office, he texts you often now. Your phone usually buzzes with his call around lunchtime, asking if you’ve eaten yet, before proudly informing you he has too. Sometimes sending in a photo of his lunch or a silly selfie with his coffee.

He began showing up not just physically but emotionally as well, being with you in ways he hadn’t in a long time.

He joined you in grocery shopping on lazy afternoons, pushing the cart down aisles while slipping your favorite snacks in.

You’d find fresh flowers on the table more often now. A handful of soft blooms, the ones you liked.

The warmth deepened at your home. Simple chores turned into shared moments, just like it was before.

Jungkook surprised you in small ways, with silly notes tucked into places you wouldn’t expect, cute little reminders of how much he saw you, how often you were on his mind.

The shared meals, the walks and quiet nights, everything carried the unmistakable feeling of love being rebuilt.

It wasn’t about fixing everything all at once. It was about being there, with his heart open & all for his wife.

You saw glimpses of the man he’d always been beneath the weight of stress and responsibilities.

It wasn’t perfect. It didn’t need to be. But it was real. His love was real.

And in that, there was healing.

He’d become softer in a way that made your heart full. The kind of softness that felt earned.

When you’d fallen sick a few days back. Your husband immediately took a day off, didn’t give you the chance to say “I can manage”. He ran warm baths, tucked you in with care, made you soup, sat by your side with a book in hand just to keep you company while you rested.

There were quiet mornings too, when he’d wake up before you, only to stay in bed longer, just watching you with a gaze so full of love it was almost overwhelming.

Running his fingers slowly through your hair, kissing your forehead, and whispering things he used to forget to say; whispering how beautiful you looked even in your sleep, how lucky he was to call you his wife, how much he loved you- always had, always will.

You noticed the change. He kept his phone away during meals. Work was the last priority at home.

You’d find him watching you from the couch, eyes so fond..until you'd go over and let him pull you into his arms. His embrace being your favorite place all over again.

One evening, you'd just finished drying the last dish when Jungkook appeared behind you, hands wrapping gently around your waist.

The speaker on the counter was still playing a soft melody. And then he was spinning you around, his eyes gleaming with that boyish mischief he reserved only for you.

“Dance with me,” he murmured.

You laughed, but your hands found their way to his shoulders anyway. He swayed with you under the kitchen lights, bare feet against the tiles, holding you like you were his whole universe.

Your face tucked into his chest, arms wrapped loosely around his torso, his chin rested atop your head.

He swayed you both, heartbeats syncing.

When the song changed, he twirled you around clumsy, and you squeaked as he caught you back into his arms, laughter spilling from both of you. Hearts overfilled with love.. and only love.

It's a sunday morning and you wake up feeling exhausted, the kind that comes after a night of tangled love so intense it left you trembling. You blink your heavy eyes open, trying to sit up.

You hear the bedroom door open and there he is, your husband- hair tousled and a lovesick smile on his face. He crosses the room leaning down, brushing your hair back before pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

"Still sore?" he murmurs, voice husky from sleep, gaze searching your face.

You nod just slightly, cheeks heating. “A little,” you whisper.

He gives a gentle smile, thumb caressing your cheek. “I made breakfast,” he says. “Come on, baby.”

He’s already pulling the covers off, slipping his arms carrying you to the shower. “Let’s shower first,” he murmurs, holding you against his chest, “I’ll take care of you.”

Later in the evening, you were halfway through dusting the bookshelf when you feel warm hands wrap around your waist. A small squeak leaves you before Jungkook lifts you off the ground, spinning you around playfully.

"Jungkook!" you laugh, smacking his arm lightly as he carries you toward the couch.

He just grins, dropping down and pulling you with him until you're lying back, and his body hovering above yours. His eyes twinkle with mischief, lips brushing against your cheek. “Much better.”

Just then his phone rings. He groans as he glances at the screen. “Taehyung,” he mutters, already trying to silence it.

You frown a little. “Jungkook, it could be something important.”

He pouts. “It’s always work with him.”

Still he reluctantly taps the speaker, putting the phone on the coffee table. Taehyung’s voice fills the room.

“Can you stop ignoring my emails Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook throws you a look- mouthing, “Told you.”

You giggle softly, brushing your fingers across his chest.

You hear Taehyung speak again, "Is Y/n with you? You should’ve divorced him when he forgot your anniversary Y/n—you know just for the plot.”

Jungkook shoots a warning tone at the phone. “Kim Taehyung.”

But you only laugh, cupping Jungkook’s cheeks gently. “Drop it, Oppa,” you say, voice soft.

"I'm blocking your number."

Jungkook hangs up on Taehyung who was in mid laughter.

“Fucker,” he mumbles under his breath, that small pout not leaving his face.

You can’t help but giggle, pulling his face toward yours. “He was just joking, Kook,” you nuzzle your nose against his before planting a soft kiss on it.

Jungkook buries his face into your neck like a sulking pup. “I know.. but still.”

You smile, wrapped in this silly moment, fingers combing gently through his hair as your other hand rubs soothing circles on his back.

The balcony is dimly lit, the stars are bright tonight.

You're curled in Jungkook’s lap on the couch outside, after having dinner together. Your body snug against his chest, legs tucked beside his. One of his hands rests over your arm, fingers grazing softly back and forth while the other wraps around your waist.

His cheek is pressed to yours, the faint scent of his cologne feeling around you like home. The soft notes of a romantic song fills from the speaker inside.

There's calm. His thumb traces little circles on your skin.

You tilt your head slightly, cheek brushing against his, and he exhales nuzzling closer. He’s always been quiet in his affection, but lately, it’s louder in the way he clings, the way he stays.

"I love you,"

you whisper it so softly, it almost dissolves in the night air.

Jungkook stills for a moment, to let those words settle in his chest.

You feel him smile against your cheek.

“I love you more, my love."

His lips find yours in a kiss that's so gentle, pouring in everything his heart holds for the only love of his life.

The twinkling stars above feel like they’re smiling down at the two of you- reflecting the glowing love which doesn’t need to be spoken to be felt.

..after all, you’ll always hold on to each other.

Always.

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

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, handcuffing

fem reader

Think about being a bleating little bunny hunted down by two big bad wolves…

Your fear tastes so good – layered thickly in the air – so sweet in their mouth it’s almost painful how hungry it makes them – seeped and soaked and stained on the bed where they keep you collared and leashed for their own personal use.

You drive them both wild with your aroma and all your cute little struggles where you try so adorably to shove them away and crawl out of their reach. It’s never any use, and yet you still try despite being so stupidly small beneath them – so tiny it only takes one of their hefty hands to have you completely overpowered.

But they’re as sweet as they can be – as sweet as your smaller body allows them to be when it so obviously isn’t meant to take their thicker fatter meaner cocks in its petite little holes – prepping you on tongues and big fingers until you’re as loose as you get before stuffing you with something that’s always going to be too big for you.

They have to tie your hands to something – where despite them being fruitless in their effort, they can become bothersome to leave free – often attaching them to the loop in your collar, so you keep them to yourself all cutely while they mark you with their fangs – making you into a pretty artwork with coarse fingers rubbing your perky little nipples into sore nubs.

You’re really just too cute; it’s cruel – looking up at them with those adorably big eyes and that button nose wrinkling on each little sniffle when you beg them to let you go. Lop-ears sadly framing your face – so soft in their hands and so sensitive it makes you bite your lip all preciously each time they give them a little nibble.

You sob under their touches – knees shaking – as one of them laps at your clit with a bearded chin tickling your puffy pussy-lips, gnawing some on the swollen flesh while slurping your hole. His thick and eager tongue paints through your slit again and again and again on an unrelenting repeat – similar to the eager tail whipping behind him – swallowing all your juice down – growling ferally at the maddening taste while your thighs sweetly tremble around his jaw.

Your other predator bites on the plump of your ass, leaving spotted rings in his wake. Cupping your buttcheeks – fully fitting in the palms of his mighty paws – he cards his claws into the fat and spreads them wide open for an attack on that pretty tight little ring hidden between them. You always whine so sweetly for him – your cute fluffy cottontail doing a little dance while he circles your rim with his tongue – warning you of what’s to come later in the day when he’s finally had the taunt hole fully stretched and as ready as it gets to take his fat knot.

He moans into you while thinking about it – about your cute bunny butt swallowing his meat and being blown full of his thick creampie. Going livid at the mere thought alone – his cock bobs impatiently against his happy trail while he forces restraint upon himself – knowing how if he tries splitting your poor little butt on his pole now, he’d most likely tear you in two.

Instead, he amuses himself by prodding the pretty hole with the tip of a very special golden carrot – fresh batteries turning your rim numb while he slides ring after thicker ring inside you until you close around the tuft of golden leaves at its end. Tugging on his cock impatiently, he places his head – fluffy pointy ear-down upon your belly – listening to the drums echo inside you as he turns the vibrations up high enough to feel it through your skin. 

Of course, he wants to make sure that his precious little bunny is prepped and ready before subjugating you to a good butt-fuck – being kind enough to satisfy himself with your mouth until then – making you cry and choke around his thickness, swallowing his cock down your tight throat until your little nose burrow in the dark curls around his base – watching the pretty furrow between your brows beg for air as your eyes roll back and turn white with desperation.

He lets you suck his balls as mercy once you’ve choked him down long enough – to the point you’ve lost your pretty voice – gripping one of your lop ears, he holds it tightly by the base – thinking there's nothing cuter than spitting on your chubby bunny-face while you dizzily comfort yourself by nuzzling his sack so sweetly. 

Your pussy is left alone after it’s made swollen by a handful of orgasms, but not before the abuser slaps his handiwork with a grin. He wipes his chin off your slick, then grabs your other free ear – messaging the softness as he pulls your mouth off the other’s sack and onto his cock – fucking the pocket of your cheek while you sob from their rough handlings – fearing they might just tear your poor ears off.

They both stand above you as you kneel for them by their feet, lolling your teary lips against their heavy balls – groaning as you give them all sloppy, open-mouthed kisses as they fight for space in your tiny mouth – telling you to beg for the cum stored inside while you slide you pink little tongue over them until they drip with your drool. Then, making your lip and mouth the spine of their shafts, sliding both fat manhoods between your plump lips until making you take one head at a time, licking the slit clean of slaty precum.

But more than childsplay with their cocks on your cute face, they like propping your other two holes – make you moan and cream on them – entirely obsessed with fucking you full of the two of them – pushing in so deep, they have you screaming and shaking in uncontrollable spasms as you clamp down hard around them.

It feels extra sweet when they fuck you at the same time – feeling the other through the wall separating the holes – timing their thrusts – pushing in until completely sheathed down to the base, bottomed-out with their knot swelling up inside you, pumping you full of hot cum before sloshing out – leaving you panting and twitching.

Both holes fluttering around their absence – they inspect them to see how good they have your little bunny-holes stretched – grinning at the sight of both entrances gaping for them as though they can’t wait to be taken by their big dicks – both chuckling deeply when seeing how much of their cum your tightness pushes out before they fuck it right back inside you again – completely mesmerized by the big belly bulge the two of them are making in your tiny body – taken and riveted by the thought of breeding you despite knowing that it would be impossible for you to carry either of their pups. 

None of it keeps them from emptying the full value of their balls inside you for the umpteenth time – both of them slobbering at your neck while messaging you with big hands on your tits and hips, hissing out carnivorous desires your feeble constitution doesn’t understand before they sink their teeth down hard into the soft flesh of your vulnerable neck – claiming you as both their pretty little prey and silly little mate.

BNHA – EndMight, EndHawks, BakuDeku, KiriBaku, DabiHawks, ShigaDabi

JJK – Toji x Shiu, SatoSugu

HQ – Miya twins

DS – DouAka

HxH – HisoIllu

[stevebabey]

you're the only one for me, baby

1.7k, steddie, one of them getting so drunk that they don't recognise the other and telling them back off i've already got a boyfriend, it's all sweetness <3 likely a modern!au and actually just goobers in love

Eddie doesn't really drink. He's not against partying but he's much more attuned to smoking a little weed to take the edge off, sometimes a spliff if he wants to mix a little business and pleasure.

Eddie doesn't really drink—so when he does, it goes about as well as expected.

From zero to a hundred.

Steve had lost track of him after directing his stumbling feet towards the bathroom to take a leak. But apparently, as he's now found out, this bathroom has two doors.

What the fuck kind of bathroom has two doors, like some weird thoroughfare?

Regardless, it took all of five minutes with no noises coming from the inside before Steve had loudly announced he was coming in, no matter what, getting quite worried for his boyfriend.

He trusted Eddie to not be too sloshed to handle a piss, even if he was on the wilder side tonight, but still leaned up against the door to chase off anyone else looking to knock—because Eddie hilariously gets pee-shy.

The door had opened easily, apparently unlocked, and Steve had stepped into the empty bathroom. The other door across the room, the one he hadn't noticed until now, was wide open to the party.

So, now he's on the hunt for Eddie.

Which is a task that feels a little bit like herding cats because drunk Eddie isn't something Steve has a lot of experience with. But what he does know, is this: it's the opposite of high Eddie.

Stoned, Eddie likes to find the comfiest place he can (usually Steve's lap, or so he proclaims) and sink into it, like melting wax. Then, given he has access to adequate snacks, he doesn't move for quite some time.

Drunken Eddie cannot even fathom the concept of sitting still.

Either way, looking where there's food is a good as a place to start as any.

Steve ambles out the strange two-doored bathroom and flips his head back and forth, trying to remember the direction of the kitchen. He hasn't been here before—one of Eddie's band connections—and Steve's still had a couple beers himself.

He shakes his head and takes a left, relieved when it leads to the stairs. Okay, he sort of knows where he's going now. They had only come upstairs to find the quieter bathroom for Eddie.

As Steve reaches the bottom of the stairs, a faint stir of irritation flashes through him. Eddie just left him behind? That wasn't that nice, even if he was incredibly drunk.

He can hear the din of people chattering just above the music and he follows it, leading him into the half-full kitchen, people dotted around. There's a few pizza boxes scattered around and Steve eyes each of them specifically, looking for the tell-tale wipe of Eddie's greasy fingers. No dice.

Steve wrinkles his nose, spinning around and double checking before he moves on.

If not by the food, then... where?

Steve takes a few steps forward into the living room, his heart beginning to sink and shrivel all at once. There was a miserable feeling attached to looking for his partners at a party, a wallowing and awful memory tied to the feeling.

Steve pushes a hand across his chest roughly, as if trying to shove the feeling away.

Eddie wasn't... her. Eddie wouldn't do that.

But the moment he's thought it, it's stuck in his head. Steve's feet begin to speed up, checking a little more carelessly as he starts to stick his head in different rooms, his hazel eyes jumping around. Not Eddie, not Eddie, not Eddie—so many people and none of them are Eddie.

Until—there. Steve spots a very familiar looking behind as it leans over the back of the couch, the owner of said-behind talking to someone sitting on the couch.

He blinks, just to be sure, but the details come into better focus. There's chains on his belt loops and when he shakes his head, Steve can see the curls he loves to bury his hands into.

Eddie.

Steve's relief pulls him forward, his feet almost stumbling, his mouth pulling into a relieved smile. He puts a hand out, fingers spread, across the leather-clad back.

"Eds," Steve says, relief colouring his voice.

Eddie swings up abruptly, pushing himself off the couch. When he turns, a bit of liquid sloshes out of the beer bottle he's holding.

"Heyyy," The words come out a bit slurred and when he finally stands straight, he doesn't look right at Steve. "Handsssss off the merchandise, buddy."

Steve chuckles, reaching out and plucking the bottle from his boyfriend's grasp. Eddie gawps, an adorable little hiccup interrupting his shocked expression.

"Hey," He says loudly, reaching forward for it fruitlessly as Steve pulls it out reach. "That's mine." Eddie whines.

"You've had more than enough, I think." Steve says. He steals just one gulp of it before he turns at puts it on a nearby table. When he turns back, Eddie is frowning at him, brows pulled together tightly and bottom lip jutting out.

"Listen—" Eddie leans forward, jabbing a finger into Steve's chest. "I dunnowhoyouthinkyouare," The words come out in a one big jumble and Steve frowns.

What? Something sour claws into Steve's chest at the frosty greeting.

"Eddie," Steve says, his hazel eyes wide and worried as his gaze darts between Eddie's squinted face and swaying form.

Steve reaches out to put a hand on his waist, aiming to steady him, but Eddie sees it coming and widens his eyes comically. He swerves back to avoid it, his boots tilting dangerously on the wooden floors. If he was still holding his beer, Steve bets half of it would be on the floor by now.

"Wo-oah," Eddie exaggerates, waving a hand out and batting Steve's outstretched arm away. The rottenness in Steve's chest blooms, rancid and freezing. He sucks in a sharp breath.

"Ed—"

"I—" Eddie says, holding up his hand and waggling one finger at Steve, like he's a naughty schoolboy. His words still have that drunken slur to them.

"—already have a boyfriend, thank you very much. He's much too pretty to be throwing it away for the likes of you, you weasel of a man..." His ludicrous and nonsensical insult trails off under his breath as Eddie's attention is drawn away by a shout across the room.

As he watches Eddie drape himself back over the couch, the sourness between Steve's ribs shifts, transforming into something infinitely sweeter. He lets out a dazed laugh, a wild smile spreading on his face before he can smother it beneath his hand.

I'm dating a lunatic, Steve thinks happily.

He reaches out and steals Eddie's beer once more, taking another large swig before giving it another go.

This time, he sidles up beside Eddie who's engaged back in conversation with one of the guys on the couch, and just waits. It only takes a minute before the dude on the couch seems to realise who Steve's waiting for and he nudges Eddie, gesturing behind him.

Eddie, still bent over the back of the couch, twists only his head to look. This time, the recognition is immediate.

He springs up, pushing the couch forward an inch in his excitement and leaps forward, his hands clawing into Steve's shoulder with a fierce delight.

"Steeeeve," Eddie croons, crowding in close. His hands start moving, fingers searching like curious spiders, fingertips dancing along the sensitive skin of Steve's neck til he's squirming back, laughter betraying him.

"Stop it." He laughs. Steve arrests Eddie's wrists in his hand and Eddie cackles, using the pause to surge forward, kissing him square on the mouth.

Eddie tastes like the beer he's been drinking and Steve barely gets a moment to enjoy it before Eddie's pulling back, leaning forward so they're forehead to forehead.

"I was looking for you." Eddie says, his doe eyes wide. His pupils grow larger the longer he stares at Steve.

Steve grins. "Uh huh. Looking for me between the couch cushions, were you?"

Eddie rears back, his head flipping as he stares back at the couch and then back at Steve. "Nuh uh. I came out the bathroom and you were goooone."

That explains it. Eddie must have left out the other door — and then thought Steve had left him behind and gone hunting for him. Something else settles in Steve's chest, relieved.

"And—" Eddie hiccups. "—and some guy tried to- to freakin' flirt with me. Can you believeee?"

Steve's grin widens by a mile. "Is that so? What you'd tell him?"

"No, of course!" Eddie says, head pulled back as if he's appalled Steve would think otherwise. He shakes his hands out of Steve's grip and drops them, fumbling for a moment to get his fingers into Steve's belt loops.

When he does, he yanks Steve forward a tad too forcefully, their bodies colliding in a way that's more sore than sexy. Eddie continues on as if he doesn't notice. "Even if he was particularly tasty," He murmurs, his lips tracing the column of Steve's throat.

"I let him know, baby." Eddie all but purrs.

And perhaps if the competition Eddie was beating off was literally anyone other than himself, Steve would be right there with him.

Instead, he can't contain his snort of laughter. Eddie was perfect; he was a possessive and drunken dog, barking up the wrong damn tree. Steve loves him.

"You're laughing," Eddie states plainly, even as his doe eyes manage to grow even more round. Steve can't help it, it just makes him laugh more.

"Treason." Eddie declares. Then using the belt loops to keep Steve captive, he leans in and blows a raspberry on his neck.

Steve lets out an unattractive squawk, his laughter melting into Eddie's as he pushes his boyfriend's face away — to which Eddie simply lets himself go limp, his face cradled and held up solely by Steve's hands.

"Christ," Steve says between his laughs, shifting his hand to hold him more tenderly. Eddie smiles dopely, then puckers his lips and closes his eyes.

Steve rolls his eyes, entirely too endeared. "Alright, c'mere," He gives in, leaning and kissing Eddie, short and sweet. When he pulls back, Eddie's eyes are open, starry and gazing up at him. He gives a dreamy sounding sigh. Steve's heart fizzles, like it's full of pop-rocks.

"Ready to go?"

"As long as it's with you, baby." Eddie says, sounding every bit like he means it.

[arcadia-smith]

New romance?

Hockey AU Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Pairing: Hockey player Simon Riley x girlfriend!Reader.

Summary: After an event, Simon's name gazes the tabloids.

Word count: 630

You weren’t the jealous type. You and Simon had been together long enough for that. You knew exactly where you stood with him—right in the center of his world, even if he wasn’t the best at putting it into words.

The TV in your shared apartment was on, muted, while you scrolled through your phone. You already knew what was blowing up online, but curiosity got the better of you. A sports gossip account had posted a grainy, over-zoomed picture of Simon standing on a red carpet next to some actress—tall, blonde, stunning. They were mid-conversation, Simon leaning slightly toward her to hear her better over the event noise. The headline? NHL’s Simon Riley Spotted Getting Cozy with Hollywood Starlet!

You snorted. "Cozy, huh?"

You heard Simon before you saw him, his heavy steps echoing down the hall. He was fresh out of the shower, a towel slung around his neck, wearing a pair of sweats low on his hips. When he spotted you eyeing your phone, he let out a deep sigh.

“So, should I start packing my bags now, or…?” you asked before he could say anything.

"Don't tell me you're readin' that shite."

You scrolled down dramatically, reading aloud, “‘Riley and Hollywood star Mila spotted together in what can only be described as undeniable chemistry—’”

Simon groaned, “For fuck’s sake.”

“‘Sources say—’”

“Bloody who?”

“‘—that the pair looked rather intimate during their conversation, leaving many to speculate that—’”

You turned the screen toward him, the article still open. "Should I be worried?"

Simon rolled his eyes and plopped down beside you on the couch. "Yeah, love. Absolutely terrified. She's already picked out wedding colors."

You smacked his arm lightly. "Don't be an ass."

He chuckled, voice low and raspy. "Y’know, they really like stirrin’ up drama, don’t they?"

"Oh, for sure," you agreed. "They could’ve just said NHL player has a conversation like a normal human being, but where’s the fun in that?"

Simon stretched his legs out, tilting his head toward you. "If I was gonna cheat, d’you really think I’d do it in front of cameras?"

"Wow, what a convincing defense," you teased. "So what did you talk about?"

"Her brother plays hockey. Big fan of the team." He shrugged. "She asked for an autograph."

Your lips twitched. "And you gave her one?"

"Of course. Thought about signin’ it as someone else’s name, just to see what she'd do."

You shook your head with a laugh. "You're impossible."

Simon smirked, reaching over to pull you into his lap. His arms looped around your waist, warm and solid. "You worried, love?"

You played along, tapping your chin in mock contemplation. "I mean… she is gorgeous. And famous. And—"

Simon cut you off by pressing his lips against yours, a slow, lazy kiss. "Not my type," he murmured against your mouth.

You raised a brow. "No?"

He kissed you again, this time with a little more heat. "No," he muttered, fingers trailing up your spine. "My type's sittin’ in my lap, talkin’ nonsense."

You melted just a little, even as you rolled your eyes. "Smooth."

He grinned. "Worked, didn’t it?"

"Maybe."

Simon nipped at your jaw, voice softer now. "Y’know I only have eyes for you, yeah?"

Your fingers carded through his damp hair, the familiar weight of him grounding you. "Yeah, I know."

"Good." He smirked again. "Now, c’mon, let’s give ‘em somethin’ else to talk about."

Before you could ask what he meant, Simon grabbed the phone and snapped a picture of you both—your legs tangled together, his arm wrapped possessively around you, lips grazing your temple. Then, with a shit-eating grin, he posted it.

Within seconds, notifications flooded in. You groaned. "Simon!"

"Oops." He didn’t look sorry at all. "Guess the world knows who I’m really cozy with now."

[darkstaria]

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal AU.

Chapter 3:

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.

Chapter 3 is finally here! Hooray! Hope people enjoy this, cuz I'm going to sleep now zzz

Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr

----

A week had passed since that encounter that had sent you running home, and you could only be grateful to yourself that you hadn’t given Tim your number back. He had probably expected that you would have messaged him back by now. Instead, you were going to avoid that cafe for a while.

As if to spite you, Red was currently fluttering about you. Or should you call him Tim? That might make things too confusing. Red it was.

You had looked at the card Tim had given you, and in all honesty, you regretted it. Mainly because of the name on the card.

Tim Drake.

Tim Drake, who is also commonly known as Tim Wayne. The adopted son of Bruce Wayne.

Tim Drake is Red Robin.

You stared down at Red, who had started dozing in your lap.

Did that mean that the Wayne family all were..? No, surely not. You mean, Brucie Wayne as Batman? That felt a little ridiculous. You could definitely see Robin as Damian Wayne though, he had the right energy.

Richard Grayson had ties to acrobats right? Something about a tragedy. Nightwing did perform quite the stunts.

…

It was way too late in the night for these revelations.

There was one way to know for sure though.

“Wing!” You called out, attracting the attention of the bird that had previously been messing around with your stuffed animal. Wing had way too much of a vendetta against your plushie sometimes. Honestly, if he destroyed one of them, you certainly wouldn't be hugging him anymore.

Wing flew over to you, in a graceful arc that included several unnecessary loops. Showoff.

Wing landed on your hand, and you took a deep breath. Stay calm. The weight of Red in your lap gave you a little comfort, keeping you grounded.

“Richard Grayson.” You said, staring.

No reaction. Not even a twitch, Wing just started tweeting cheerfully as if you hadn't said anything of interest.

Maybe Richard Grayson wasn't Nightwing then? Or was it Richie? Although, he could be called by a nickname instead. What nickname would a Richard be called though…? Maybe..

Dic-

A clutter caught your attention, the sound of a window being opened and slid down. Your window.

Uh oh.

You immediately panicked. What? What could you do? You likely only had about a minute or two until the invader located your bedroom, you needed to make a decision quickly. Even as birds, you knew Red and Wing could defend themselves, but were you willing to take the risk?

If you got robbed, that would be awful, but a robber could do so much worse with the knowledge of a vigilante's civilian soulmate.

You'd take the risk. You pick up Red’s prone form, placing him into an empty bag you had laying around. If your life was in danger, you'd simply free them, and all would be okay.

You turn around, aiming to grab Wing. You reach for him, but Wing evades, darting to the left. Frowning, you try and grab him again, but Wing continues to evade, tweeting in joy.

Wing! You felt like screaming, blood racing to your head and flushing you with panic. This was not a game!

You swipe at him, starting to grab at him in increasingly frantic motions. Each movement is skillfully evaded, with Wing adding a flourish to each dodge.

“Stop dodging!” You hiss, whispering as quietly as you could. It was only when you paused in a moment to calm your frustrations that Wing showed you solace. Landing on your head in a smooth movement, Wing gave a little chirp.

Holding your hands to your head, you felt Wing climb on. You lowered him to eye level, taking a second to glare, before suddenly remembering that you had a literal home invader and stuffing Wing alongside Red in your bag. You had just clipped the bag shut when the creak of your door alerted you to their entrance.

Turning, you were beginning to lament the loss of all your earthly belongings when you locked eyes with a familiar face.

Red Robin.

“What..?” You mumble, horrified. Why was Red Robin here, in your house? The only place you could count on. The one sanctuary you had where you never had to worry about getting caught. Where you were safe.

You didn't feel safe anymore.

“Why? Why are you.. in my home?” The words stumbled out, barely registering even as they left your mouth. You had started shaking. When did that happen?

Perhaps noticing how shaken you were, Red Robin had the decency to look ashamed.

“I’m sorry for invading your house.” He began, with an apologetic tone. “I got quite a bit injured while patrolling, I was hoping I could camp out here for a while.” He gestured to his leg, where a grievous scratch bled. He smiled at you, a polite, small thing, as if it would convince you.

No, was your immediate answer.

“Yes.” Was your spoken response. “I guess that will be fine, but don't linger too long, I don't want to be targeted because a vigilante came into my window.” You tried a smile. It felt like a mask. “And I don't know any medical care. I can offer you my first aid kit, but that's about it.”

“That's fine.” Red Robin seemed reassured, happy to be here. “I have some medical supplies of my own, but I'd appreciate it if I could use your medical kit.”

“I'll go get it. Could you go to the kitchen, please? I’d rather not have you bleed out on my bed.”

He chucked. “Sure.” Then he was gone, headed off to your kitchen. He acted as if it was so simple, as if your life hadn't just shattered to pieces all around you. So nonchalant.

You took a moment to catch your breath. It was difficult. Then, you lifted the clip of your bag, checking in on your soul animals. Wing was cuddled up to Red, the two dozing.

You frowned. Red was fine. He was completely calm, fading in and out of sleep. There was no trace of an injury on him at all.

When it came to injuries, soul animals had some quirks. They only reflect injuries if the soulmate found the wound to be serious enough. Because your soulmates were vigilantes, you were plenty familiar with when they were injured or not. Red was not injured. Not in the slightest.

Red Robin’s wound was intentional. Calculated. If it was a genuine issue, Red would be suffering as well. Which meant only one thing.

Red Robin was on an investigation.

And you were the subject.

You took a couple extra minutes to compose yourself, minutes you didn't doubt Red Robin was utilizing to his full extent. You just had to remind yourself, you were a civilian, you had nothing to hide.

He could look everywhere in the house and not discover a thing. The real secret was already contained in your bag. You could not let him find your soul animals. He can see everything else, but that.

It would be really convenient if both Red and Wing suddenly left to visit some other soulmate of yours, but you knew better than to expect that. If anything you'd be lucky to not have some other soul animal of yours show up. Ever since Spoiler and Orphan showed up, they'd been more persistent than usual. Maybe the new bonds had reminded them that they still hadn't met you.

Well, it was time to face the music. Or the Tim, that worked too. You had already wasted enough time.

Shaken, you slowly stood up. You gathered your bearings, breathed.

You could do this.

Opening the door to the kitchen took much longer than usual, you could only blame the nerves. You locked eyes with Red Robin.

You couldn't do this.

“Hey.” He said. He had his own kit open, taking out some bandages. Despite the illusion of busyness, you didn't doubt he had already skulked around your home. “Did you get the medkit?”

Ah-

The medkit. The kit of medicine you had said you'd bring. The very reason you had your precious minutes of safety in your bedroom. The medkit you forgot. Fu-

You darted back into your room, ripping open a cabinet, and yanking the kit out as if it were the cause of your problems, before dashing back over to him. It was a miracle you hadn't tripped on the way over.

Play it cool.

“S-sorry!” You tried. Your heart was beating out of your skull. Could he tell? Did he already know? Was it over?

“Here.” He took the kit from your shaking hands, laying it across the table and opening it. “You said that you didn't know any medical care. Gotham has clinics, but it's a little dangerous to not have any idea of how to treat an injury, I'll show you.”

You felt yourself nod.

No. It couldn't be over. He’s got nothing on you, and will never have anything. You are a normal citizen, you just need to act like it. You didn't live a life separate from the world, hidden from birth, just to get caught.

You noticed a flutter of movement in the darkness behind his shoulder, and stared. After a bit of squinting, you could make out a small figure in the darkness. A bat.

Uh oh.

A rush of horror gripped you. The bat was smaller and slender than the Bat. It was Orphan. You gave a little twitch, a small shake of the head, begging for it to not move. Orphan didn't react.

Red Robin began explaining how to properly cleanse and sanitize wounds. You did your best to pay attention. Somehow, he was a decent teacher. He then moved on to explaining how to properly bandage. You assumed that he was just going to talk you through it. This assumption was broken, as Red Robin instead took your hands in his, and guided them through the correct technique. Once you seemed to have gotten it, he then let you apply them to his leg.

“A little tighter, just like that.”

“Like this?”

“Perfect.”

Why would he let you do this? Aren't the bats supposed to be paranoid? Your thoughts were interrupted by a ruffle of your hair. You looked up, locking eyes with Red Robin. He smiled.

“Well done.”

What the hell was going on.

The only good thing about today was that Orphan still hadn't moved. You almost forgot about it, since Orphan had stayed in complete darkness the whole time. Perhaps Orphan was content just watching?

Ah, but you're getting distracted. Red Robin received his medical care just like he wanted, now it's time for him to leave. And never come back.

“Are you doing any better?” It was a tentative question. Unfortunately you didn't think a ‘get the hell out of here’ would work any better, as much as you wanted to say so.

He nodded. “Yep. I'll head out now, goodbye.” Red Robin stood up, gathering his medkit up and placing it in his utility belt. He vaulted up to your kitchen window, sliding it open once again and climbing up to it. Now you knew what window it was, you were absolutely fixing that shut.

A glance in Orphan’s corner told you that it was still there, still watching. In that aspect, the soul animal was rather like the Bat. A stalker. Still, you'd take it.

You had never been so glad to watch someone leave before. He didn't let you enjoy your happiness for long, however, as he turned back to you at the last moment. “Oh, by the way”. He began, as if you weren’t screaming inside.

“I'll be coming over again in a few days, possibly next week.” He glanced at some gadget you didn't care about as he said this, nonchalant.

What.

“W-why?” You stuttered, completely bewildered. He had definitely checked out your house, there was nothing to be found! For what insane reason would he be coming back for?!

“It’s not safe for any Gothamite to lack basic first aid training. Your parents should have taught you better.”

The world was becoming red, you hid a clenched fist behind your back. “That's nothing that a first aid course wouldn't teach me, really, it'd be fine if you didn't come over.”

You wanted to outright protest, you really did. But you couldn't. Drawing any excessive attention would be your downfall. It'd be much easier, if Red Robin would pick up that you clearly didn't want him here!

And besides, your parents were busy enough, paying to keep you safe, hidden from the world. They have done enough.

“A course can't teach you like a hero can. I'll know when your in, so, keep an ear out.” Of course. Thanks Tim, so much.

So now you had the choice between staying at home wherein Red Robin could show up at any moment and find out your soulmates, or you could leave home and get caught with having vigilante soul animals outside. Great, what wonderful options.

You're about to protest, give a better argument, at least something. But you're interested by a squawk coming from your bedroom. You realised what happened immediately. One of the robins had finally woken up.

He needed to get out. Now.

“Okay fine, but please leave. Having a vigilante hanging out of my window is even worse than being inside my house.” You gave up. It didn't matter what concession you had to give, you needed him out immediately.

Red Robin had the audacity to chuckle, as if you had made a joke. He lifted his hand in a wave, before vanishing with a swoosh.

As if he had never been there to begin with.

A shaky sigh left you, your knees losing strength. But you snapped back to attention a second later. It was time to attend to your soul animals.

Orphan landed on your shoulder as you made your way over to your bedroom. You reluctantly petted it, sapped of your usual enthusiasm. At least it knew of subtlety, unlike certain soul animals you had.

Maybe it was time to finally get some sleep.

[cheol-e-kat]

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘

ft. k.mg

pairing:  kim mingyu / f!reader 

summary:  you’re convinced you can’t stand mingyu until a random night and a drinking game change everything

word count:  3.1k

genre: college au, student!mingyu, student!reader, one sided “hate”, friends intervening, drinking games

rating: 18+, mdni, explicit

warnings below cut

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, drinking games, fingering

You hate Mingyu. You hate him so much. 

Literally. You. Hate. Mingyu. 

You could write whatever the opposite of poetry is about him. 

You hate his smile. You hate his long hair. You hate how tall he is and how broad his shoulders are. You hate his arms because, well, fuck him. You just do. 

He’s the worst. 

He’s annoying. 

And so nice that it’s obscene. No one is that nice. No one smiles that much. Or takes jokes about himself that well. 

He’s fake. 

You hate his socials, too. Because eww, who asks someone else to take these photos? He’s so obviously self-obsessed. 

You can imagine that he’s the type of guy who would fuck his own clone because who else would know all the 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 fuckedy things he’s really into. 

You imagine he’s the guy with a secret cam boy life when he’s not in class or playing soccer. He’s jerking off and flexing for a camera and watching tips roll in from strangers. 

And yet, you’ve seen him at parties.

And he’s so boring.

He could pull so many girls, and guys, and all he does is…nothing. Besides play drinking games. Any drinking game. 

Which you’re surprised by, especially when you’re across from him at a friend’s apartment playing truth or dare. 

You had been there early mixing some frightening as fuck punch drink that you were fairly certain came from a recipe that was roughly rat poison. Because the amount of vodka and sugar was shocking. Not to mention the green food coloring. 

And now you were on your second cup. And playing truth or dare.

Which is probably why you said ‘truth’ when it was your turn. 

Your friend just laughed from the side. “Seriously? You sure about that?”

You turned to look at Jeonghan questioningly. “Yeah, why shouldn’t I be?”

He grinned at that. “Because dearest, I know you, remember?”

You did remember. You could tell some evil thought was turning over in his mind. Your heart started to pound. You started to change your mind, but before the words were out, he was asking you something. 

Which you clocked but still asked him to repeat. 

“Do you hate Mingyu?” He asked with an annoying smile. 

It was such a shit question. You stared hard at him. “Why would you ask that?” You whispered. Even drunk, there were things that were shitty and out of bounds to ask. 

He shrugged. “Because some of us are curious,” he said with a small shrug. 

You rolled your eyes. “Seriously,” you huffed and glanced at Mingyu, surprised to see him looking intently at you. 

And you folded, shaking your head. “No, I just think he’s annoying…sometimes,” you trailed off, sipping your drink to hide your face. 

You weren’t about to tell someone you hated them to their face. Not when they looked at you like a puppy looking at its owner. 

You were still annoyed when it landed on you again and murmured ‘dare’ because fuck the truth. You weren’t in the mood. 

“Kiss the person you called annoying in the last round,” Joshua said with an evil smirk. 

You stared at him for a moment, not really in disbelief. It was more like you wanted to smack him for being such a little shit. 

You glanced at Mingyu, though, raising your brows questioningly, hoping he might turn you down. But, despite what you had said, he just nodded at you. 

And with a sigh that was maybe fake, you got up from your chair and walked around the table to him. You nudged his shoulder, watching him turn back to you. You wondered if he thought this was just like a moment where you chastely pecked his lips or something. 

Again, he was so annoying. 

Instead, you slid into his lap, looping your arms around his neck and leaning in close, letting the bridge of your noses touch for a moment before you closed your eyes and let your lips press against his. 

His arms immediately went around your waist. And his lips were so, so, so soft and tasted so sweet. 

You let your fingers catch in his hair as he licked into you. You let him deepen the kiss, feeling his hand wander up your back, pulling you closer. 

You felt it - felt him. His dick hardening beneath you. You pulled away gently, looking at him. You could see the look on his face, like he was about to apologize. You were still close, though, and quickly pressed a finger to his lips. Shaking your head gently. 

You grinned when the tip of his tongue swiped against your finger. You didn’t trust yourself to talk at a normal volume. Instead, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. 

You were surprised to hear a voice directed at Mingyu, asking him ‘truth or dare.’ 

You hadn’t moved from his lap. You watched him closely. 

You heard the soft way he breathed his answer - ‘truth.’

“How badly do you want to fuck y/n?”

You didn’t even bother looking to see who had asked the question, their voice just becoming this sound from behind you while you gazed at him. You waited for him to look away or seem embarrassed. 

You didn’t expect him to look at you when he responded. “Right now, or generally?” He asked, his fingers pressing gently into your skin.

You weren’t expecting that. 

You heard a soft laugh being suppressed behind you. And maybe someone else choked. But you weren’t paying attention. 

You just smiled. “Both,” you clarified the question for him. 

You weren’t exactly thinking about how hard his cock was feeling, or how warm his hand was on your thigh. 

You definitely weren’t thinking about the gentle way his thumb traced circles against your naked skin, or how sweet the callouses from all the time he spent lifting weights felt against your tender skin. 

You were watching the way he didn’t miss a beat when he answered. “Right now, really badly, and generally?” he asked, pausing and watching you for a moment before he gestured for you to lean closer. 

He leaned up to your ear. His voice was so soft. “I jerk off thinking about you, so daily, probably,” he whispered his estimate to you. 

He had genuinely whispered. You might have asked him to repeat himself on any other day or about any other subject. But you heard him perfectly. Even as other sounds started to come back to you - the music and the sounds of someone still playing Mario Kart. And someone else answering ‘dare.’

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

You hadn’t left the party with him immediately. You had stayed in his lap for a few rounds, getting nothing but boring questions. 

You let his hands wander, though. You didn’t care that he leaned against you, or the way his lips brushed the nape of your neck. 

It was horrible PDA. Bad enough that Jeonghan texted you to tell you how obnoxious you were.

[hannie]

srsly take the puppy home alrdy

u two are soiling my eyes

[y/n]

entirely ur fault 

[hannie]

that u finally stopped being such a tease???

[y/n]

so not a tease

and fuck u btw

[hannie]

u know u like him and ur so obvious 

he won’t even go out with other ppl

waiting around for ur dumb ass

[...]

You glared at him from your new seat, wondering if that were true. 

You were surprised to feel Mingyu shift and reach for your phone, locking the screen as he pulled it out of your grasp. You glanced back at him, not in annoyance for once, even if he had just pocketed your phone. 

You had been on the verge of replying and calling Jeonghan a liar, but now you couldn’t. 

You pouted. 

And he had the nerve to grin and mouth the word ‘cute.’

You bit the tip of your tongue gently, feeling your anger flare. He just sat there, watching, like he knew what you were thinking. You rolled your eyes. 

He wasn’t that hard anymore, so you got up. 

He could keep jerking off while he imagined how good you were. You were being dramatic, but that wasn’t new behavior. 

You were up from the table and halfway down the stairs when you heard him. “Are you seriously leaving? Without your phone?” 

You leaned on the railing to look up at him. “Yes - it’s not like it’s an appendage,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

You ignored the fact that he followed you. You pretended not to hear him when he asked you to wait up. Instead, you started to walk faster and then, like a bitch, broke into a sprint, darting around a bench and through one of the painfully green quads. 

You were shocked when you felt yourself land in the grass. 

Not because you fell. 

But because he’d tackled you. You could hear him breathing hard. “Fuck,” he muttered. 

You tried to squirm, but he really was heavy. “I’ll scream,” you whispered. 

He laughed. “Yeah?” He asked. 

“Yes,” you tried to sound menacing. 

He laughed again, nuzzling your throat, his lips brushing against your skin. “You could just come back to my room, y’know, let me actually make you scream,” he whispered, breath hot against your skin. 

You closed your eyes, feeling the heat his words caused to travel through you. You couldn’t help the way you practically purred at the idea, even if you were trapped between him and the carefully curated grass of your college. 

“Like you could,” you whispered daringly. 

You felt the gentle press of his teeth against your throat and gasped. You felt his tongue tracing the little indents he maybe left as his hand slid under you. “At least tell me if you’re as wet as I think you are?” He asked. 

You laughed and tried to turn back. But he wouldn’t shift. “Just let me feel,” he whispered, voice whiny and pleading. You reached back and pulled his hair roughly, even as his fingers brushed against the crotch of your panties. 

You knew how thick his fingers were, how neatly his nails were always trimmed. And now you were feeling those fingers tease your slick cunt, parting the lips, barely pressing into your opening, just dipping into your slick heat. 

His lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Exactly like I thought, baby, so wet and ready,” he whispered, his voice was low and almost made you shiver. “Fuck, I bet you make such a mess when you come,” he murmured. 

His first finger slid into you. He groaned softly at the feeling. “Mmmh, so good,” he whispered against your skin. 

You gasped, feeling the quick addition of his second finger. You fisted your hand in his hair, pulling roughly. 

He whined in response. “Too much?” He asked. 

You shook your head. “No,” you moaned, “feels good,” you admitted. 

His weight pressing you into the hard ground felt good, too. His fingers pumping into your wet heat felt even better. 

“Make me come,” You demanded, wanting to come for him, hoping you were as messy as he wanted. 

He nodded, kissing you. “’m trying,” he muttered. 

“Just - more,” you moaned. 

You felt his third finger push into, stretching you, your fingers dug into the grass and his shoulder. He bit your neck roughly. You groaned. 

“Mhmm harder - fuck, harder,” you whined and gasped when he did. You were so close. He was hard against your low back. His dick was pressing into you, his hips barely rutting into you. 

“Want you inside me,” you whimpered. 

He kissed and sucked your throat. “Mmmh, me too,” he murmured, barely pulling away from you to speak. 

And you felt his fingers push in deep inside and tease you roughly. They spread inside you, pushing hard against your walls. He kept pressing into your walls, stretching you, as he pulled his fingers out, and then slammed them back in, repeating the move. 

You couldn’t even name what part of you he was hitting so well - it was sudden and new - it was so fucking good, you were sure your toes curled and your body clenched. You felt his free hand come to clamp over your mouth. You had no idea how loud you were. 

But you felt your pussy pulse and clench and finally this intense release, and every part of you was left completely relaxed. You kissed and licked his palm, moaning softly, drooling a bit. 

“So good baby,” he whispered against your skin. “So good for me, so wet and so good,” he murmured, kissing your throat and the back of your neck and your shoulder as he spoke, his fingers still working you gently. 

When he finally leaned up, you turned over, looking up at him. He raised a brow. “Good?”

You nodded. “Amazing,” you said, biting your lip to hide your smile and closing your eyes. His self satisfied smile was too much, especially when you could still feel your pussy clenching around nothing, cum probably still flowing. 

You didn’t care that he was between your legs. You sighed when you felt his tshirt swipe between your legs. It was cute of him. 

You opened your eyes, peeking at him. The smile that annoyed you was gone. He was paying attention to what he was doing, using the hem of his tshirt as best he could and looking determined to do a good job. 

You sighed and sat up, nudging him. “It’s fine,” you muttered, your voice soft. 

He nodded. “Yeah,” he mumbled, leaning down and kissing you, cupping your cheek as he did.

You pressed him back after a moment. “We’re not fucking here,” you whispered, determined. 

He nodded, agreeing. “I have no idea where you were running to, though,” he admitted.

“My room,” you answered. 

“Oh.” His voice was gentle. You could feel the question he wanted to ask. The one about whether he was invited or not. 

You nudged him to get him to move so you could stand. He really was like a puppy. He certainly looked forlorn enough to be one. 

“Come on,” you whispered, waiting for him this time. You grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers with his, and pulled him along, the idea of what he could do with his dick was suddenly very interesting. 

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“Think anyone saw us?” He asked as you went. 

You shrugged. “Don’t worry, if they did, Jeonghan will send us a link ASAP, if they did,” you whispered to him. 

“True, probably an edit that he made and posted,” he hummed.

You laughed. “Don’t worry, though, darling, it’s so much more flattering this way,” you said with a grin, mimicking your mutual friend. You liked it when he grinned back, knowing you were right, his cute little fangs even making an appearance. 

You squeezed his hand as you walked, pulling him along to your building and up the stairs, heading to your room. 

You glanced back at him, though, he wasn’t the innocent boy you had constructed in your mind. So, you caught the sleeve of his shirt gently between the first and second-floor stairs, wanting to kiss in the little alcove that used to be for a landline - the house phone. 

There was just enough room and shadow to hide you from prying eyes. 

He surprised you again, his hands roving along your sides and waist as he pushed you against the wall. He kissed you like he needed you - needed to memorise you, your taste, the feel of you. 

He picked you up easily, caging you between him and the wall, leaning down to kiss along your throat. Your legs locked around his waist, your thighs squeezing as you returned every fervent kiss. 

You want to memorise him just as badly.

You ran your fingers through his hair, winding them in his soft locks, moaning softly when he nipped at your collarbone. And when he paused to glance up at you, you could feel the heat between you - the need you didn’t even know existed. Or at least the one you had ignored into oblivion. 

You shifted, smoothing his hair from his forehead, cupping his cheek. “You’re so gorgeous,” you whispered. You could see the initial surprise wash over him. 

“Yeah?” he asked softly, the question was real, like he thought you might be fucking with him. 

You nodded, though. “Yeah,” you replied, tracing a finger along his cheek, “you really are,” you whispered, holding his gaze, and leaning closer, your lips catching his gently. You kissed him sweetly, a little less hungrily than before. 

You didn’t hate Mingyu. 

You didn’t hate his smile.

He wasn’t fake. 

He wasn’t disingenuous. 

He was happy in a way that was infectious - a way you didn’t always understand. 

You kissed him harder, wanting to apologize for every harsh thought you’d ever had, like you could just transfer the apology through physical touch. But that wasn’t enough. You broke the kiss just enough. 

“I’ve never really hated you,” you murmured, trying to let yourself be open with him. 

He nodded. “You made me wonder sometimes,” he replied softly, pressing close again his forehead touching yours. “But I hoped I was wrong,” he whispered in the centimetres separating you from him. 

Neither of you moved in this strange moment when it felt you were both confessing important things in this tiny space built for important conversations that could only happen in hushed tones. 

“Stay the night?”

He nodded.

You knew you could have asked for more, but looking at him, really looking, it wasn’t the time. Instead, you had the overwhelming feeling that, despite everything up until this moment, you needed to reassure him. Maybe even show him what you were feeling and stop hiding behind your affected apathy. 

“Stay for breakfast?” you asked, smoothing his bangs back from his face.

He smirked and nodded. “Yeah,” he said - his cute grin returning. You smiled back and leaned in to kiss him gently. 

When you leaned back, you bit your lip gently. “Good,” you murmured, only blushing slightly. 

It was pleasantly strange to go to bed with him like nothing had happened between you. Like this was the starting point, and not earlier in the evening. Instead, you got to start from the point of falling asleep in his arms with very domestic plans for the next day.

And there was something perfect and weirdly lovely about waking up to him. The way you were caught up in him - your legs twined with his - the soft kisses that neither of you seemed to be able to stop. 

You were perfectly happy for the moments to drag on into eternity, never ending and perfect.

It was even weirder to think you might actually just be in love with him - and maybe had been the entire time. But maybe that was just how your story was meant to be. 

a/n: idk i'm down for ambiguous endings rn but always assume they are togther for eva ^^

⋆˙⟡♡ 𝒌𝒂𝒕

♡ master list & tag list

♡ [ 𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 ] ★ [ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

[ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆: praise + worship kink | vehicle sex + oral fixation | ceo/boss + big flirt x easily flustered + age difference | 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒉 |

[ mingyu one shot tag list ]

☁︎ @syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson [e] ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @mingcouper [e] ☁︎ @hanniebub [e] ☁︎ @perfectiondazesworld [e] ☁︎ @scoupshawty [e] ☁︎ @peachytokki [e] ☁︎ @coupsbestleader [e] ☁︎ @fleurloovin [e] ☁︎ @babybae-shisui [e] ☁︎ @asyre [e] ☁︎ @dcrlingyou [e] ☁︎ @yeosayang [e] ☁︎ @nanabananananabatman ☁︎ @yoongznme [e] ☁︎ @gyuhao365 [e] ☁︎ @jeonghnie [e] ☁︎ @armycarat2612 [e] ☁︎ @shuas-winnie30 [e] ☁︎ @famouspoetrydinosaur [e] ☁︎ @ateezaddict24 [e] ☁︎

☁︎ @aaronwarners69thwife [e + wips] ☁︎ @daisymbin [e + wips] ☁︎ @babilou-pov [e + wips] ☁︎ @sseungcheols [ e + wips ] ☁︎ @keyrecsfics [ e + one/multi & wips] ☁︎

☁︎ @ninigyuuu [k.mg - e, b.f. priv]

[urhoneycombwitch]

heart like a hearth

roommate!Eddie x roommate!Reader it's the holidays, and goddamn everyone is home- you and Eddie haven't had a moment alone in weeks. good thing you know a boy with a van and an alibi...

foreword: Roommates!au cinematic universe expands: extended family unlocked! YES this was supposed to come out over the holidays NO I won’t be changing the setting but don’t worry it’s not overly/grossly Christmas-y. as one anon astutely pointed out, this Reader tends to be the most OCD of all my Reader iterations so I hope her actions/line of thinking reflects this disorder and not just due to being an ass, yanno? happy readin’ <3

cw: drinking, smoking, weed usage, R is related to Max (no specificity), R is referred to with a few fem nicknames (girl, princess etc.), van fucking (secluded spot!), fingering, oral (R receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected PiV, brief argument, angst (resolved), R plays feelings close to the chest 

wc: 8.1k

___

Eddie’s been shockingly well-behaved recently, and you’d almost think it’s due to the looming threat of a Naughty List if it weren’t for the simple fact that he hasn’t had time to behave otherwise. 

The last few weeks leading up to Christmas have been, so far, a whirlwind of constant noise and color. Your and Eddie’s apartment is conveniently central enough from various friends and family, and the two of you have been blindingly busy playing hosts. 

Your cousin, Max, came by train last week, along with her best friend, El, and a ragtag group of Eddie’s former D&D minions. Three whole days of cheesy holiday crafts, winter movies, and braiding the girls’ hair while Eddie ran a gripping oneshot campaign; giving way to late evenings, El and Max sharing the pullout couch while the boys took up what little was left of the floorspace like cozy little sardines.

No time after the kids were sent off, either- Robin was insistent on making you a proper boozy eggnog from her heirloom recipe, which had Nancy offering to bring her famous chocolate crinkles, and just like that, you were signing up to throw another party.

The Best Ever Eggnog Bash (Robin’s titling) has been raucous fun so far- Eddie paid all the neighbors off with various gifts of booze, weed, and/or Wheeler’s cookies, so last night, the karaoke machine got turned up to ten and much spiked (Best-Ever) eggnog was imbibed. 

Everyone was either too inebriated or too tired to drive afterwards, so an impromptu sleepover was called for- blankets tugged from all corners of the apartment again to make soft sleeping pallets for Robin and Nancy, while the rest of the boys (Jon, Argyle, and Steve) passed out like a pile of puppies on the couch.

In the morning, it only seemed natural to keep the party going- Robin had planned to stay through the weekend, anyways, and everyone else was loath to cut short their holiday break. 

Around lunchtime, Jeff and Gareth showed up with instruments in hand, expecting a rehearsal session but were instead greeted with plates of grilled cheese and a knotted ball of lights that no one had been able to untangle yet. 

They’re in the corner of the living room, now, bickering over the sound of a Crosby record as Jeff loops the string of lights around Gareth’s waiting hands. 

Jon and Steve are sharing a joint on the couch, giggling at a test pattern on the TV screen; Vicki, Robin, and Argyle are in various states of lap-sitting and stool sharing at the breakfast bar, a wasteland of cookie decorating ephemera spread across the counter.

“I think we did this backwards,” Nancy says, thoughtful and amused, passing you a freshly-cooled plate of gingerbread men. “Should’ve saved the alcohol for after the fine motor skill activities.”

“And deny the elves this simple joy?” You reply, sardonic and equally amused, setting the plate in front of your friends. Robin’s eyes light up, and Argyle nearly spills a whole flute of tequila in his haste to stake claim.

“The frosting will make you sick if you keep eating it,” Nancy cautions, but Robin’s already stuck the spoon in her mouth, pulling her choice of cookie in close and muttering with dogged determination to a blushing Vicki- “Gonna make you the best gingergirl ever. Seriously. It’s gonna blow your socks off.”

Longsuffering, Nancy sighs and leaves to check the oven. Eddie whirls into the living room hoisting a clear tub of board games above his head that rattles as he shakes it, truimphant- “Found it. I’m about to Dutch Blitz you into the next century, Harrington.”

“I wanted to play Boggle,” Steve whines, but his protests are quickly swallowed by the swarm of helping hands rearranging the living room; all the furniture gets pushed to the edges while Eddie deals in players on the carpet. 

Something about Eddie is particularly magnetic today- he’s wearing this maroon knit sweater gifted from his uncle, lean biceps flexing under soft fabric whenever he leans to place a card. The deep red is a great color on him, contrasting so nicely with his wild dark curls and glinting silver rings; so nicely, in fact, that you’re driven to distraction, ogling him openly from your spot mixing icing by the sink.

The thing about Eddie behaving himself? It’s kind of driving you crazy. 

You’re used to the bickering, the good-natured arguments, Eddie pushing your buttons until you snap or bend. You were expecting at least some skirting of the Rules- sneaking into your room after all your guests were asleep, maybe leaving a hickey that couldn’t be explained away- but he hasn’t progressed past fleeting, friendly touches and interactions.

(Well. Except the other night at the bar. But you’re sure everyone was too tipsy to see under the table, his hand inching up your skirt...)

And then, with stunning clarity- you realize you miss him. Like, you actually, truly, miss Eddie. He’s sat on a carpet just a few steps away, profile softly backlit from a nearby candle, and you’re aching to be closer.

As if tuned in to your frequency, Eddie looks up to catch your eye. Time and noise fade into the background of your thoughts; for a moment, it’s just you and him.

Just a few more days, you think, trying for telepathy. Then it’ll be just us again.

He gives you a wink from across two rooms, and the grin breaks on your face before you can think to stop it.  

___

Later in the afternoon, you’re using the only available sink in the bathroom to wash frosting from your hands when Eddie pokes his head around the partially-open door.

“Hey. We gotta go to PJ’s.”

He’s wearing his black leather jacket, your puffed winter coat folded over one arm, ringed hand curled around the doorframe as you finish drying your hands.

“I can do a snack run.” Agreeable, you take the proffered coat to put on. PJ’s Corner Store is less than two blocks away, but if you send Eddie out alone into the big world with a simple task there’s no telling when he’ll be back. “I’ll be quick, you stay and host.”

This last word ends on a tease as you zip the warm coat up to your chin, Eddie following your lead into the hallway even as he shakes his head. “Nah, that’s no good We’re out of cigarettes, too- stole Emerson’s last one.”

“Hey,” Gareth squawks from the kitchen, mouth full of gingerbread. 

“You shouldn’t be smoking ‘em, anyways, kid,” Eddie says, sagely, sticking the filter of a fresh cig between his teeth even as he lectures. 

“Well apparently we’re going to PJ’s,” you announce, hooking a thumb at Eddie behind you in a gesture of it can’t be helped, while inside you’re buzzing with the possibility of walking with just Eddie. Two blocks there and back, all that quiet snow…

There’s some protest at both hosts abandoning the party until everyone learns that the corner store has snacks, and then you’re fielding a barrage of requests and organizing spare change and crumpled bills into your pocket.

Eddie meets you by the front door, walking backwards while giving Nancy strict instructions for holding down the fort- “Don’t let those shitheads in my room, Wheeler, I’m counting on you to preserve state secrets-” -then he reaches past your head for the coat rack, pulling the length of Robin’s green scarf from its hook before wrapping it snug around your neck.

As he tucks the frayed ends into your coat, you notice the glint of van keys that he must’ve palmed silently from the other hook. 

“Thought we were going to PJ’s,” you whisper. 

Eddie pulls his hands away but not before trailing his fingers against the bare side of your neck, leaving a cascade of goosebumps in their wake, and replies in the same low, conspiratorial tone- “Who says we’re not?”

Finally, after scattered last requests you’re borne out into the cold on a wave of cheery goodbyes. The second the door shuts, Eddie’s tugging at your coat sleeve.

“Let’s go.” The order is gentle but weighty enough that your swirling questions are quelled, for the time being- you follow close on Eddie’s heels down the building stairs, boots crunching into the layer of fresh snow as he leads you across the parking lot.

At the van, Eddie carves ice from the windshield, strong arm moving the scraper in a solid arc. You hazard a glance at the apartment windows, an internal sigh of relief when you realize Eddie had parked on the west side out of view. 

“Not really sure what your angle is, here.” You’re not trying to poke the bear, this time, you’re just genuinely confused and a little on edge, unused to taking a backseat where planning is concerned. 

Eddie doesn’t answer, and you follow him to the other side of the windshield as he continues scraping, talking all the while. “I just mean- we can’t be gone long. Nancy’s responsible enough but if she starts drinking, too, then all bets are off. And it’ll probably look weird, you know, if it’s just you and me gone for so long. And we really should get snacks-”

“We will,” Eddie says, interrupting for the first time to open the passenger side door. “In you get.”

Eddie loads you into the van (rather like a dog, you think, petulantly clicking your seatbelt), then gets in himself, turning on the engine to blast vented heat throughout the van. 

The speakers crackle to life, and as Eddie turns onto the main road you fiddle with the radio dial until soft, instrumental Christmas music plays on low- a welcome respite from the weekend’s cacophony of noise.

You’re a little sad to be missing out on what would’ve been an extended walk; the roads are clear, and in less than two minutes, PJ’s appears down the street like a beacon, lights from the OPEN sign glowing against a backdrop of white.

Sad, that is, until Eddie drives past PJ’s.

“Eddie.”

A direct response to the note of warning in your voice, Eddie keeps his eye on the road but reaches for your hand (previously, tightened into a fist around your jeans). 

Once you allow his fingers to weave between yours, Eddie uses the stoplight as an opportunity to turn towards you, thumb brushing over the tops of your knuckles as he asks, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” The answer comes so easily- you didn’t even have to consider an alternate option. Your trust is not something simply given, and Eddie knows it; there is still this lingering part of you, though, that wants to push back.

As a sort of self-protection, a longing for the familiar, you ready an argument. “But-”

“Nope!” Eddie interrupts, tugging at your hand in his grasp, almost jolly in his denial. “No comebacks. No skirting. I wanna hear you say it.”

The light turns green, but with no cars in at least a mile radius, Eddie’s foot stays firm on the brake, his bright, intense gaze fixed on you. 

You have a sudden urge to dash yourself against the passenger side window, or maybe to jerk the car door open and roll out onto the dirty snow of the sidewalk. A stifling, panicked feeling that would be overwhelming if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie is watching you so tenderly, even while the wheels of your mind work overtime.

A brief few seconds that feel like an age, and then, with a squeeze of his hand, words that take shape and form in a voice quiet but sure- “I trust you, Eddie.”

His grin is wide, even as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, dropping your hand in favor of the wheel as the van resumes its speed. “Atta girl. Wanna show you a place.”

The van cuts a smooth path up a sloping westward street, warm holiday lights from the row of houses reflecting colors in the snow. There’s another stop sign at the top of the hill, and Eddie turns left again, steadily climbing, until the road flattens out.

A road sign declaring DEAD END looms and then passes your window; at the same time, the paved road turns to gravel. Not for the first time, you’re grateful that Eddie learned to drive on the harsh backroads of his native Tennessee hometown- it means he’s adept at guiding the van through a wintered forest to get to the other side.

The other side turns out to be well worth the wait. The snowy boughs of thickened trees give way to a clearing, and Eddie parks a safe distance away from the edge of the hill while still close enough for you to take in the view.

You unbuckle, leaning into your forearms on the dash for a better look, a soft exhale of exclamation- “Wow.”

It’s a spectacular sight- the city sprawls in shining white, pinpricks of winking lights everywhere that make the whole thing look like a blanket of sequins.

You’re keenly aware of the fact that Eddie isn’t looking at the view, he’s watching you take it in for the first time; you throw him a bone, flopping back into your seat with a sweet smile just for him- “Killer spot. Almost worth the adrenaline of thinking you were gonna axe murder me the whole time.”

Eddie scoffs, shrugging his jacket off and tossing it into the depths behind his seat. “You know I prefer a sword as my murderous weapon of choice. Smoke?”

A hand-rolled joint sits between his fingers, your arched eyebrow in response, incredulous- “Seriously? How much time do you think we have?”

“At least three hours,” Eddie says, confidently, straightening his legs into the footwell to fish the lighter from his front jeans pocket. “I showed Nance where the weed brownies are and told her to go crazy.”

With the movement of his legs, the red sweater rides up, a strip of tantalizing milky stomach and smattered trail of dark hair immediately burning itself into your brain. You swallow against the dryness in your throat, questioning even as he lights up- “When the hell did you have time to bake?”

“I have my ways.” Eddie inhales. Smoke pours from his nostrils, the whites of his teeth when his head swivels to catch your eye. “Made a batch while you and the kids were out. Our dear guests will be blind to time, trust me.”

“I do,” you insist, hot shock of fluster in your chest, shedding your own jacket that joins Eddie’s with a harsh throw before deciding you actually can’t let this one go. “I just… did you forget El’s dad is a cop? Like, badge and everything.”

“So?” 

If Eddie wasn’t smoking, you’d be half as distracted- he’s in his natural element, knees spread, head lolling on the seatback, a hazy cloud around the loose black curls that settle and shift on his shoulders. 

“So, you should maybe be more careful. You’re really not worried about getting caught with contraband out on your- on our counters, for that matter?”

It’s an argument quickly losing steam as the air grows heady with weed; Eddie takes another drag before reaching to stick the end of the joint between your lips. “Why would I worry when you’ve clearly got that covered for the both of us?”

Your brows knit together, a thunderous expression fixed on its target as you take a drag, baring your teeth on the exhale. Eddie chuckles, eyes already lightly red-rimmed as he watches, coos, “My little dragon.”

“I’m serious.” The joint is pinched between your own fingers now, but when Eddie reaches for it, you move quicker, holding it out of reach. He pouts, draping himself with dramatics over his armrest as you shake your head- “Eddie.”

He acquiesces, a goofy, deep forward-tipped bow that sends tendrils of his hair swinging across the knees of your jeans, one of his big hands wrapping around your upper thigh to steady himself. “Sweetheart. Y’know I always kid-proof my shit. I solemnly swear my allegiance to your best judgement.”

Eddie knows just what to say and do to diffuse your temper- you can’t be mad or annoyed with the crown of his head practically in your lap, supplicative and good-natured. 

You take another lungful of smoke, this one traveling direct to the contours of your brain, dampening the stress and lighting up the sensation of Eddie’s hand on your leg.

“Bring me here just to smoke?” Your free hand lifts, sets itself on the top of Eddie’s head- you note the way his shoulders stiffen slightly, the way his fingers curl tighter into the doughy flesh of your thigh. “Or did you have other, more nefarious intentions?”

Eddie dips so low his lips touch just near his thumb, warm breath of his groan seeping into your skin even despite the layer of denim. His other hand grasps your hip, subtly pulling you closer to the edge of your seat. “Yeah. I intend to break Rule Two in a major way.”

Oh, right. The rules. ‘Apartment as neutral territory’ being one of them. 

The joint sputters when you take a final hit, a small hiss when you snuff the end into the ashtray tucked snugly in a cupholder, leaning over the expanse of Eddie’s stretched spine notched through his sweater. “The van counts in my book. As far as neutrality goes.”

Perking up like a kid at Christmas, Eddie lifts his head, still half in your lap but chocolate eyes shining with hope (and no small amount of lust)- “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

It’s all the encouragement Eddie needs to make his move, pulling with intention now until you’re out of your seat and in his lap, knees on either side of his hips, pelvis settling into the crook of his own where a familiar hardness can be felt.

Eddie attaches himself to your neck, kissing desperately down the column as you arch into him, hands roaming down your back, another breaching past the hem of your top to feel your ribs.

“Fuck.” Already breathy and it’s been ten seconds. It should be embarrassing but it simply isn’t, not with the way Eddie’s finding his way to your bra, cupping and squeezing over the soft fabric like it’s all he’s been thinking about. “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Been weeks, princess.” His breath slides hot over the wet marks he’s leaving, teeth nipping at your collarbone, a soft groan when your hands find their way back to his hair, fisting around the soft anchor of his curls. 

Eddie’s other hand not busy with your breast slides to the front of your jeans, a deft maneuver as he pops the button and slides his fingers past the elastic of your underwear; a hoarse, choked moan when he feels the slick accumulated there.

In awe, he draws his hand up and out, leaning back just to hold it up for the both of you to see in the soft backlighting of the dash. As his ringed fingers separate, stickiness glistens and webs between the digits. 

Chest heaving, cheeks burning, you shrug, feigning casual even with fistfuls of his hair in your grasp- “Like you said. It’s been weeks.”

Eddie puts his hand back where it belongs, between the apex of your thighs that automatically try to snap closed as his fingers hit against your clit like a pulsing homing beacon, just for him. He works you up quickly, panting and wet noises the only companion to the wintry silence, like you’re the only two people in the whole city.

He slips two fingers past your entrance, curling them just right, hitting against that spongy spot that makes your legs tremble and pulls a warbled moan from the back of your throat. 

Your arms resting on his shoulders spasm with the mounting pleasure, unintentionally bringing Eddie’s face in line with your breasts (an angle he’s more than happy to take, giving your other breast some mouthy attention through the layers).

“I’m- oh, fuck me- fuck, Eddie. I’m close.” 

Your body responding far faster than normal (it really has been weeks, after all), the falling is fast approaching, heel of Eddie’s pumping hand hitting perfectly against that fizzing bundle of nerves. 

That tight resolve is worming its way in- you don’t want this to end. You want Eddie’s mouth on your chest, his fingers warmed to your core temperature, you want it always.

He can tell, because he always can, when you’re holding back; the small, subtle ways in which your body stiffens and tries to restrain itself. 

Eddie tries to play stern, even as his cock throbs painfully, pinned under your squirming thigh- “Don’t hold back, sweetheart. You know I’ll give you another one. C’mon. Let it go.”

It’s all the encouragement you need. The coiling tension snaps in a sparking, roiling heat, gushing around Eddie’s steady and quick tempo; hopefully this spot is as soundproof as it feels, out here at the edge of the world, a sharp, whining cry as you come and fall apart. 

The aftershocks cause full-body tremors, while Eddie soothes with hands and voice, murmuring praises and calling you names that make your head spin like “good girl” and “sweet thing”.

Panting, you manage to lift your forehead off Eddie’s while his hands drop to your hips again- he looks fucking wrecked. Hair sticking up at the back thanks to your handiwork, pupils blown so wide the black is swallowing the gentle brown, a blush of pink at his cheeks. With a crooked smile, he asks- “Gonna let me top this time?”

A call and response, one that shakes a giggle from your shivery lungs- “I’ll think about it.”

Eddie gasps in phony surprise. “Wow, it really is Christmas.”

Rolling your eyes, stamina returning, you pat the tops of Eddie’s shoulders before using them to push yourself from his lap. The cry of his protest is short lived once he realizes you’re just moving to the back of the van, arranging the two discarded jackets for extra padding.

You make quick work of your shirt and have just shoved the waist of your jeans down to mid-thigh when a loud thunk startles you into looking up- in his eagerness to get back here with you, Eddie’s foot got caught in his seatbelt.

He curses, lying flat on the floor of the van looking like a gangly marionette while trying to yank his foot free. Your laughter has him twisting to watch, head tilting back to try and catch your eyes until he lurches free with an oof. 

Disentangled on his hands and knees, Eddie frowns when he sees the kicked-aside pile of your jeans and top, and starts with whiny reproach- “Heyyy. I was supposed to do that part. You-”

In a single swift move, you twist the clasp of your bra and shove it off, revealing the full sight of your breasts to the end of Eddie's stopped sentence. He gets with the program after that, expeditious to the point of humor, stripping down to just boxer shorts as you lie back on your elbows, body molding to the comfort of padded flooring. 

“That sweater really does look insane on you,” you comment, the rich red a blur as it’s flung to the corner. “Couldn’t stop staring, earlier.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie’s brows waggle a suggestive dance as he crawls forward, stretching out over your supine form, kissing between the valley of your breasts. “I’ll send Uncle Wayne my regards.”

“Maybe no blood relative talk right now,” you gasp out, his lips forming a suction over your left nipple.

A wet pop as he moves to the other, considering- “Probably a good call.”

In what is quickly becoming a familiar facet of sex with Eddie, he can’t seem to stay away from your pussy for long. Ever since the first time you fucked, Eddie’s been lightly obsessed with figuring out your body, all the ways in which it can tick and sing for him alone- and he’s proven to be a quick study. 

Drawn like a magnet, his lips leave damp patches as he kisses his way down your torso, across your stomach; you’re heaving with unsteady, anticipatory breaths as Eddie’s teeth catch at the band of your undies, as his hands pull-slip them down your thighs and off. 

You’ve never felt more well and truly fucked, in every sense of the word, than when Eddie’s mouth is on your cunt. 

It’s an art form, really- the particular attention he pays to all the small hotspots you didn’t even realize were a thing: the bony bridge between inner thigh and pelvis where your femoral artery whooshes in response to his canines; the tender skin just under your weeping hole that makes everything clench when his tongue deftly prods. 

Fucked, as in where the hell else am I ever gonna have it this good; conversely, fucked as in can’t possibly hold onto that thought with his tongue where it is.

His hands can never agree on a favorite place, usually taken to roaming about your body- this time, his right rests solid on the softness of your stomach, keeping the rolling wave of your body at the mercy of his lips while the other hand squeezes the fat of your upper thigh in a tight grip. 

It’s impossible to stop the cacophony of sounds that spill out, nearly drowning out the slick noises of Eddie familiarizing himself with the inside of your cunt; sharp gasps, moans, a cry as he dips back in, out again, thighs shaking, closing around the silver hoops that line the shell of Eddie’s ears. 

When his clever mouth moves up to pull the aching bead of your clit into a suction, the space between your ears goes white as the damn snowscape outside.

“Jesus fuck, Eddie. Oh, my god- don’t stop. Please don’t stop, that feels-”

In response, Eddie moans, sucking harder, taking his hand from your thigh to fit two fingers into you, wall of muscle swallowing him greedily. Your spine arches from the padded floor, heels digging in where your legs are slung over Eddie’s shoulders, hand burying itself in the soft crown of Eddie’s hair. 

“Oh- fuck, fuck, Eddie- Eddie, Eddie…”

There’s a distant awareness that you’re babbling but you know Eddie likes it, loves that he’s the one making you fall apart past the tight boundary of sound you usually keep; the pads of his fingers coast against the front wall of your cunt once, twice, and your second orgasm of the evening hits with the force of a freight train. 

The pleasure wracks through your frame, fevered flush sparking down to the tips of your toes as it moves through your seizing muscles. Your hips jolt upwards, a pleasant counter pressure when Eddie’s hand on your stomach stays firm, keeping your pelvis aligned so there’s not a moment away from his mouth. 

Eddie’s tongue draws out the feeling on your pulsing clit while his fingers stay at that perfect angle, driving into you with the same fast-patterned stroking that keeps your rapture spiraling. The pleasure starts to ebb but still he laps at you, head shaking back and forth like a dog, pinning your wrist to the floor when you squirm and seize up, foggy and helpless to the flow of euphoria. 

He pauses, finally, your body going lax the instant his mouth leaves to start kissing his way back up your stomach. In the waning light from the back van windows, Eddie’s chin is shimmering with your slick.

You have a sudden, desperate need to kiss it off him. Rule Number Four be fucking damned, you want to kiss this boy, full on the mouth. Unbelievable you’ve both stuck to it for so long- the desire welling within is something two orgasms can't begin to touch.

Would it be so bad… your heart pounds, blood chorus singing through your veins as Eddie gets closer, crawling up your body. Your better judgement is not at play here, dizzy and sick with affection, reaching up to touch the black-inked wyvern on his bicep, tangling the fingers of your other hand into the chain of the swinging guitar pick necklace.

The interior of the van has warmed with the heat of your combined bodily movements, but when Eddie shoves his boxers down and off you could swear the temperature spikes three degrees at least.

Eddie’s mostly focused on both of your lower halves, a ringed hand at the ditch of your knee pushing it towards your chest, spreading you open that much further to line up at your entrance- so he doesn’t see the way you’re looking at him. The way your eyes are drinking in every bead of sweat, every contour of his bowed head and tight shoulders.

With his other hand planted on the floor of the van just by your ear, Eddie uses the extra stability to drag his cock through your soaked folds, using your spend to coat the heavy tip and generous length. 

The hand under your knee cinches tight, Eddie hissing through his teeth- “Shit. So wet. S’all for me, sweet thing? Hm?”

“Yeah.” You’re struck dumb with wanting, unable to play coy, urging Eddie in closer with a heel at the small of his back. “All yours. Please-”

A sharper tug than you intend shortens the silver lead, hauls Eddie’s face shockingly close to your own, his breath puffing out tantalizingly close to your lips, lashes blinking rapidly in surprise against your cheek. 

“Okay,” Eddie murmurs, voice husked, sheathing himself into your cunt with achingly slow precision. “Okay, sweetheart. All mine.”

His forehead bumps gently into yours with each small thrust as he tests the waters, holding back even still, making sure your body is ready (a moot point as you feel wet enough to fill an inflatable pool by now). 

The thick head of his cock slides against that innermost spot, your knees rising to cage in the sides of Eddie’s torso; he lifts his head from yours just far enough to be able to see your face when his thrusts pick up intensity. 

Somewhere, there’s a loose hinge in the van that squeaks with each movement, grounding you with each rock of Eddie’s hips, each push and pull and delicious drag of his throbbing cock. Other noises, too: like your open-mouthed moaning, and the short ones Eddie makes each time he slams into you, exhale of breath halfway between a grunt and a sigh, his dark eyes still dancing over your face.

The pleasure is building again, everything mounting and climbing up to that peak. Eddie chokes out a “fuck” as the channel of your cunt squeezes him vice-like, hips faltering, rhythm skipping beats. 

It’s impossible to hold on to any one thought, fragments swirling along with all those firing synapses- the fresh layer of snow on the roads, coating the pine trees, the slatted roofs. Eddie’s chipped Garfield mug next to yours on the counter at home. 

Eddie’s fringed bangs, stuck to his forehead with sweat; the mole on his left peck, the freckle above his second rib; Eddie’s lips, the bottom one plush and dark from being bitten and abused by his own front teeth; Eddie’s lips-

In the end, you’re not sure if it’s the pull of your hand in the chain, or the fact that Eddie was already ducking down towards you again. 

What you do know is that it feels a whole lot better coming on Eddie’s cock when his mouth is on yours. 

As far as first kisses go, this one is sloppy, wet with spit and tasting of your cum, Eddie’s noise of shock quickly turning into a vibrating groan as he kisses you back. His tongue is still coated in a layer of your slick but once you suck that away you finally get a pure taste, for the first time, of him. Of Eddie. 

It’s this thought that freefalls you headlong into orgasm, taking Eddie with you, bottom lip taking the pinch of Eddie’s teeth as he comes, too, warmth blooming as his cock spits out weeks’ worth of pent-up release. 

“Fucking hell,” Eddie says against your lips, enjoying the novel feeling while trying to regain his breath. “Jesus christ. You okay? Was that- I mean, it was good?”

In the honeyed afterglow, you press a palm into Eddie’s cheek, relishing in the fact that you can feel his smile when you reply, honest, “Very good. The best.”

As if unsure he’s allowed to now that the moment has passed, Eddie doesn’t kiss you on the lips again, instead planting a chaste but no less adoring one on your cheek. Carefully, he sits up, then helps disentangle your body from the weave of his own. 

Your head swims as you take the proffered hand to sit up, arms automatically crossing over your chest; Eddie digs through the clothes pile and offers you things one at a time; underwear, bra, a sock, then the other, quiet and attentive until you’re fully dressed.

The dampness between your thighs is vaguely uncomfortable but nothing can be done about it until you’re back at the apartment. You sit cross-legged on the padding of Eddie’s coat, blinking at the boy gathering his clothes until he catches you and grins back, softly. 

Eddie asks, like he can read your mind, “Still okay?” 

At the base of your throat, something stings. “Um. I don’t know.”

Eddie’s mass of black curls pops through the opening of his sweater, which he shifts to jam his arms into. “Don’t know if you’re okay? Or…”

The sentence hangs in the air as Eddie looks at you, partially dressed in his boxers and Christmas sweater, looking flushed and curious and adorable. The stinging moves to the corners of your eyes, fingers tangling into each other with nerves and plummeting hormones. 

“I’m okay, I’m just- I’m just sorry.”

Eddie snorts, like the idea is ridiculous, shaking the wrinkles out of his jeans- “For what? Being crazy hot? Can’t fault you for that, babe, kind of the whole point.”

The tears that are threatening to spill aren’t allowing you to join in on the jokes, not yet. Same as earlier, your voice quavers, brows drawing together as you stare at your twisting hands- “Sorry for kissing you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Eddie’s tone is faux chipper, like kissing you is a totally normal occurrence that didn’t just blow his world open, doing an awkward crunch-wiggle forward to get his jeans on. “The day I accept an apology for one of your kisses is the day I should be sent to the guillotine. Without trial.”

The brand of his lips hasn’t left yet, your tongue poking out without permission to swipe over your bottom lip, skin buzzing and still tasting like him. “We- I should at least try to stick to the rules.”

Was the kiss your doing, though? The way he was looking at you, just before you pulled him in- almost like he was waiting for it. Waiting to kiss you- 

Still in a jovial post-sex mood, Eddie buttons his pants and perches on a spare amp box in the corner, boots sitting between his socked feet. “Sure thing. Just, ah, running the stats here- I don’t think the evidence stacked against our very epic but very secret dalliance is bound to be hidden for long.”

“Right.” This, at least, is a normal topic of conversation, hearkening back to the times of ten minutes ago before a kiss fucked everything sideways. 

You lift a hip to pull Eddie’s coat out from underneath, folding it over an arm just to have something to do.  “Well, there’s always an alternate explanation. I’m getting good at those, y’know- borrow a tasteful scarf to hide hickeys. ‘I was late because of the dentist, the vet, the traffic-’”

“Always one for excuses.”

There’s not an ounce of joking in Eddie’s tone this time, enough derision to make you look up, sharp and sudden- “Excuse me?”

This time, Eddie is the first to drop his gaze first, hair falling over his face as he bends forward to fit his foot in the mouth of his boot. “Nothing.”

A hollow thunk as his heel makes contact, then he reaches for the other boot with a weary, flat laugh, shaking his head under your tense gaze. “You just- you don’t think they’ll see it? Smell it on us? All the l- the- y’know, the affection? The intimacy?”

The Word he swallowed sits in your own throat, just behind the sting. The cool tips of your fingers slot over your eyelids, Eddie’s coat in the crook of your elbow smothering your senses with spiced cologne and nicotine. Maddening. 

In the dark behind your fingers, the tears gather. The Rules, once a lifeline to your structured self, now seem childish and hurtful. You say the one thing you’re able- “I’m sorry.”

Another dull thunk for his second boot, and then you hear Eddie rise, feel the soothing brush of his touch on the crown of your head as he passes- he doesn’t even sound mad. “Don’t be. S’okay.”

The handle on one of the back van doors pops, preceding a metallic creak and a rush of cool air. You drop your hands from your eyes, watching the profile of Eddie’s face against the backdrop of wintry woods as he crouches at the van’s edge, drawing in lungfuls of crisp air. 

The cold leeches in, bringing with it a sense of exposure, taking all the smells and heat of sex from the coziness of the enclosure and lifting it all out to be scattered on the wind. You have a strange feeling of wanting to reach out and hold onto the last of it, as if it were tangible. 

Eddie’s boots crunch into the snow, but he doesn’t go far, just steps a yard or so away. Through the single open door his back is turned, shoulders rolling, neck stretching from side to side, working out the kinks. 

Longing aches through your bones; you want to bury your face into the space between his shoulder blades and breathe in that musky, rich red fabric. You don’t feel as though you’ve earned that right, somehow. 

Instead, you snag your own boots and coat to jam on, joining Eddie under a sky paled with early evening light. He stands silently, eyes fixed on the trees, breath a floating cloud around his head.

You stand just as silent, shoulder to shoulder, Eddie’s black jacket still tucked in your crossed arms. Silent until you can’t bear it, bouncing on the balls of your feet against the icy wind that cools the sweat under your arms and back with a chill.

“I know you don’t want me to be, but I am. Sorry, that is. I don’t-”

The tears are back. You swallow them down, determined to loose the words from your lips, however clunky, because Eddie deserves to hear them at the very least. “I don’t know how to function without rules. Without some sort of- cage, or, like, something to hold me in, ‘cuz otherwise I-”

In answer, Eddie breaks his deer-like stillness to turn, pulling you into himself, arms wrapping you up in a solid hug. The warmth starts to creep back in as he rocks you gently, dropping  kiss to the top of your head before saying- “I know. I know, honey, because I know you.”

Tears make wet tracks down your cheeks, dampening the front of Eddie’s sweater, even as you make a watery attempt at humor- “No, you don’t. Don’t even know my middle name.”

“Sure I do. Guessed it ages ago. Obviously Albert.” 

His hug tightens when you sob a laugh, clinging to him, words still fighting to the surface- “I’m just, sorry, that I’m the way that I am and I can’t change it, not right now, at least, but it’s hurting you and I just am so s-”

“Honey, honey,” Eddie’s mumbling over your stream of consciousness, pressing in closer to rest his cheek on your crown. “Don’t have to be sorry. ‘M not hurting. Not from you, never from you. I like you so much-”

“I like you so much,” you sniff, pulling your head up to look at him even through the tears so he knows you mean it. 

You’re met with a wide smile, a winner, the kind that shows all his teeth, bright enough to rival the snow- “Oh my god. You have a crush on me?”

“Shut up,” you mutter, pushing at his chest but weak enough that he chuckles at the effort, basking in the extra touches.

There’s an unfortunate lack of time but you take what little aftercare is afforded, hearing the thump of Eddie’s heart under your ear, relishing the feeling of his hold. Though the winter air is bitter with cold, it helps to clear your mind from the sex-weed-shame loop. 

Spoken into the fibers of Eddie’s sweater- “I just… don’t want to share you yet. It’s stupid and complicated but I want it to be our thing, for a little while longer. Just us.”

“Just us,” Eddie repeats, kissing the parts of you he can reach- forehead, temple, line of scalp. “I can swing that. Not too different from now, hm?”

“It will be, though.” It’s a promise that scares you, but one you’re confident you can make in good faith. You just need some time. “Promise.”

With one last squeeze, Eddie lets you go, taking his coat from your arm to slip into, patting around for his keys and jingling them with a wink- “Your chariot awaits, princess.”

___

As it turns out, Eddie wasn’t, in fact, lying about going to PJ’s, which is why you now find yourself under the harsh fluorescents of a corner store aisle with your roommate’s cum drying in your undies. 

“Snakes.”

Zoning out on the racks of candy, Eddie’s sudden word from just behind your right shoulder makes you jump.

“What?” You cast a glance backwards. 

In response, Eddie’s jacketed arm brushes yours when he leans past you for a bag of gummy snakes. He’s already got an armful of various chips and a 6-pack of beers, the bottles clinking as he shifts. 

“Robs won’t eat the bear kind. Said the shape makes her too sad to eat.”

You consider this, sliding a bag of peach rings off the metal line for Nancy. “But biting a snake’s head off, that’s all good and fine for a tree hugger?”

“She’s an odd duck,” Eddie agrees, wistful, plastic crinkling under those big palms that were mapping the shape of your body not twenty minutes ago. 

“Well, you’d know all about that, huh?” You knock a shoulder playfully into Eddie’s side.

The look he gives you is mischievous, sparkling through the frame of long, dark lashes. “If it quacks…”

Earlier, you’d used the payphone to call home while Eddie hunted for vittles- a short drive back, but nonetheless you were anxious to know the situation you’d both be walking into. 

Annoyingly, Eddie was right again- Nance sounded unusually giggly, telling you all about the epic blanket fort the boys had built under Robin’s orders, the background filled with drunken and otherwise intoxicated chatter. Not even eagle-eyed Nancy noticed the time you and Eddie spent away- all she asked about was the food supplies. 

At the counter, a lone employee bags the snack fest with disinterest, retrieving Eddie’s requested pack of smokes and sorting the crumpled bills you provide with barely a word.

Eddie’s eyes keep darting to yours, nostrils flaring, hamming up the humor, and it’s getting harder not to laugh each time, corners of your mouth twisting to keep the noise from bursting out. 

If there’s something funny, Eddie wants to share it with you. He’s always been generous. 

In the glittering snowscape of PJ’s parking lot, Eddie plucks at your sleeve before you can open the passenger door. 

“Got somethin’ for ya.”

You turn with a frown, eyeing him suspiciously- “If you just spent real money on a pack of those skeezy ‘sex pills’ from the front counter I’m actually not interested.”

“No, no, it’s-” Eddie slings the grocery bag handles to his other arm, rustling in his coat pocket to procure a small, flat parcel of brown butcher paper. “Your Christmas present. Didn’t wanna give it in front of all those other weirdos.”

There’s a loop of white string tied in a knotted bow; you smile softly, taking the gift from Eddie’s proffered hand and plucking at the string. “But- I didn’t bring yours, it’s sitting under the tree-”

“I know. It’s cool, I’ll open it day-of if you want, I just… wanted you to have this now.”

You think about the shiny new record waiting at home for Eddie as you unwrap the present with burgeoning glee- in the middle of the paper lies a circlet of weaved fabric, in varying shades of forest green and cerulean blue. 

It’s not until you lift the loop into the air that you realize what it is- a friendship bracelet. 

“Max and El helped,” Eddie explains, in the nervous, self-conscious way of a gift-giver. “Had a whole craft sesh while you and the boys were out ice skating. Don’t think they quite believed I was makin’ it for Jeff, but…”

He trails off. You’ve just noticed the tiny silver pendant dangling from the center of the bracelet, about the size of your pinky nail- it dances with movement, casting glints of light from its surface, the engraved E flipping in and out of sight. 

“Couldn’t craft that one. Need a little more real-world metal working practice under my belt for that.” Eddie hooks a thumb in his belt loop for emphasis, rocking back on his heels. “Got it when I went to the big city last month.”

You run the pad of your finger over the engraving, feeling the grooves of the letter press up against your skin, shocked into silence. 

“And- uhm, I mean, if you hate it, or if it’s, like, totally weird that I just gave you something with my initial on it-” Eddie is full of fidgety nerves, making a sweeping gesture with his hand to indicate general whateverness- “I didn’t mean it like an I own you sorta thing, you’re your own woman- person- obviously, and you can totally just throw it to the birds-”

The parking lot and nearby street is empty, but even if it wasn’t, that wouldn’t have stopped you from pulling Eddie in by the jacket collar and kissing him breathless. 

He makes a little mmph of surprise, then gets with it, kissing back, letting you direct the show with a fistful of his lapel. When you pull back, his eyes are half-lidded, a lovely pink flush in his cheeks as he chases your mouth for one last kiss.

“Thank you,” you whisper, genuine, lifting your right wrist for Eddie to take- “Will you put it on me?”

With gentle dedication, Eddie fits the bracelet around your wrist and ties the ends together, silver pendant sitting perfectly at the base of your hand. 

“You’re comin’ for Christmas, right?” Eddie’s taking his time with microadjustments of the fit, using the excuse to trail his long fingers around your upper arm while he’s at it. “Don’t think I officially asked you yet, just sort of assumed.”

He’s petting the inside of your forearm, almost to distraction. 

“Wayne won’t mind?”

Eddie snorts, a double-squeeze to your wrist as he fiddles with the ends of the bracelet. “You kidding? Pretty sure that spiteful old man would lock me out of the damn trailer if I showed up without you.”

Despite the cold, warmth blooms through your limbs, a holiday spent with hot chocolate on the Munson couch a fortifying future indeed. 

Eddie pulls your wrist to his face, meeting it halfway for a kiss before giving your hand back. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s go see what damage those holiday hooligans have wrought on our apartment.”

[im4rmy]

bf!jisung x fem!reader (idol AU) II

IMAGINE: You make out for the first time.

TW: suggestive, MDNI

• You and Jisung had only recently made things official—ever since he, trembling and stammering, had confessed what you'd known since the very first time you met: he had a massive crush on you and wanted you to be his girlfriend. From that moment on, though, you realized everything would move very slowly, because poor Jisung couldn’t even hold your gaze for more than two seconds. It wasn’t a problem for you, but you had never been with someone quite like him before, so… you were doing your best, always worried you might cross a line and make him uncomfortable.

"Are you still hungry?"

His voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You shake your head with a small smile and watch as he stands up to toss the empty pizza box onto the kitchen counter before returning to his spot next to you on the dorm couch, where Renjun is already fast asleep in his room.

You sigh. "Jisung."

He turns his head toward you, resting it against the back of the couch, watching you with those wide, curious, boyish eyes. You can’t help but smile adoringly at him, cupping his cheeks in your hand and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, making him flush bright red. You pull away and chuckle when he awkwardly clears his throat. Leaning a little closer, you take one of his hands, drawing his full attention back to you.

"Can we talk for a second?"

Jisung’s eyes widen slightly, and he grabs the TV remote to lower the volume. Then he shifts to face you, heart pounding.

"Listen... I really want this to work between us, so I need you to be honest with me. I need you to tell me what’s going on in your head, okay?"

Jisung blinks a few times. "Did I do something—?"

"No, no... I mean going forward. If I get close to you, if I kiss you, if I touch you... I need you to tell me if it’s okay, if it’s ever too much. Alright?"

You see him blush, but he doesn't look away. He swallows and nods. "Okay."

You hold his gaze. "Are you sure?"

This time he nods more firmly. "Yes."

• You smile and lean in to place a soft kiss on his lips, but before you can pull away, his hand comes up to cup your cheek, keeping you close, and your lips meet again. Your eyes widen in surprise, but you quickly melt into the tenderness of his touch, his lips... and when he parts them slightly to catch his breath, you do the same, gently slipping your tongue to meet his. You feel him stiffen for a second, then gradually respond, kissing you back with a hesitance that’s more curious than afraid. Your hands move up to his broad shoulders, caressing them gently, while his hand slides back to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your long hair. His lips barely pull away from yours, and you feel his quick, shallow breaths. You giggle, looping your arms around his neck.

"You need to breathe, Ji."

"O-Okay... um, can you—could you come closer?"

The butterflies in your stomach flutter wildly, and once again, you wonder what it is about this lanky boy that has you so hopelessly head over heels for him—because, let's be honest: you are completely gone for Park Jisung. Carefully, you shift to straddle his lap, watching his reaction. Jisung stares up at you, wide-eyed and terrified, completely unsure what to do with his hands. You smile, hoping to ease his nerves.

"Is this okay?"

Jisung nods vigorously, making you laugh. You lean in again, cradling his face in your hands as you kiss him slowly—this time giving him plenty of chances to breathe. His trembling hands settle on your thighs, but he doesn't move them, keeping his full focus on the connection between your lips. Your fingers leave his face to trail along his arms, brushing his biceps, then down to his forearms, finally taking his hands in yours.

• "I'm going to take off my sweatshirt, alright?"

Jisung swallows hard and opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You take his silence as permission and peel off your sweatshirt, feeling his gaze on you.

"Y-You're beautiful," he breathes, barely daring to glance at your navy-blue bra.

A wide smile spreads across your face, and you bring his hands back to yours. "You can touch me, if you want."

"O-Okay... where?"

His earnest but determined expression makes you laugh, and you press a kiss to his forehead.

"Wherever you want, baby."

You smile again as he takes a deep breath before resting his hands on your waist, feeling your bare skin beneath his fingertips for the first time. His touch is tentative, still unmoving. You lean closer to press soft kisses to the underside of his jaw, then higher near his ear, then down along his neck. Finally, you feel his fingers tighten slightly on your skin, twitching, though he still doesn’t move.

"Relax..."

"I-I can't, I’m sorry. I don’t know what—"

"Shh... Just pretend you’re dancing—freestyle," you whisper against his ear. "Listen to your body and let it move however it wants."

• Jisung listens to your voice and closes his eyes, focusing on the trail of kisses you're leaving along his skin. When your lips find his again, and your hand gently caresses his cheek, you feel his muscles start to relax beneath you. One of his hands slowly slides up your back, brushing your spine tenderly. You smile into the kiss, pressing your body a little closer to his, running your fingers through the hair at the back of his head. He lets out a small, helpless moan against your mouth—a sound that makes him blush deeply—but he quickly recovers as his hands explore lower, sliding down your sides to your hips, then down again to your ass. When he realizes it feels good—really good—he brings both hands to cup your ass, squeezing gently through your thin leggings.

"Getting a little bold there, huh?" you tease, giggling.

Jisung turns bright red but nods shyly. "I-I like it."

You give him a curious look. "You mean... my butt?"

He gazes at you with the hazy, lovestruck look of a drunk teenager, hands still firmly on your backside, and nods again with a sheepish grin. You burst into laughter and plant a quick kiss on his flushed lips.

"Good to know, little one."

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

other jisung's chapters:

bf!jisung scenario

jisung - when you first met

jisung - your first time together

bf!jisung scenario IIˏˋ°•*⁀➷ you're here!

OT7 chapters:

your contact names in each other's phone

his favourite part of your body

when he hurts you during sex by accident

when he comes back from tour

⇘ nct dream idol AU index ⇙

·˚✎ ﹏im4rmy's masterlist

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

[sturnsdarling]

'you look like this song'

{insp by @sturnioz au} smartand'mean'!reader is getting ready in fratboy!Matts room whilst listening to Nirvana, and he can't keep his eyes, or hands, off of her.

vibe check: fluffy smut with no real plot, everyone's (my) fave

2k words

A/N: This is for the anon who's having a shitty month, i hope you love it and i hope it makes your september a little better. I had this idea after Matt was listening to nirvana on stream, i need to sit in his room and listen to music whilst i get ready on his floor and i need it NOW.

love and cigs, merc

You were sat on Matts bedroom floor, wearing nothing but a black lingerie set and a pair of fishnet tights with the crotch ripped out, a gift from you to Matt from a previous bathroom hookup. Your legs were crossed underneath you as you did your makeup in the body length mirror that you had found on the street, and claimed as your makeup mirror in Matts room.

You tugged at your eye slightly, smoking out the black liner you had just applied, effortlessly achieving that 'slightly fucked out but still hot' look that had become your signature style. Your playlist was on a loop, always hooking your phone up to Matts speakers regardless of whether or not he was there or not. 'Smells like teen spirit' by Nirvana began to play, the steady drums making the floor vibrate slightly.

The door clicked open, and Matt walked in the room, looking at his phone and bopping his backward cap clad head along to the music before turning his attention to you. You looked to him in the reflection from your spot on the floor and, of course, he was already looking at you. You shot him a small smile before returning to your makeup, moving onto applying a dark burgundy lip with a slightly open mouth.

Matt came to stand behind you, caressing your slightly tangled hair with a large hand. His hand came down to the side of your face and slid down your jaw, watching you intently in the mirror. Your focus didn't waver, still focused on your makeup as you patted and rubbed your plump, dark lips together.

Matt felt as if his mouth had began to water at the sight of you, his hand coming down to your jaw as the song continued to play in the background. He tugged at the bottom of your jaw, moving your head so you were looking up at him from your perched position on the floor, him towering behind you.

"hey, tough girl" Matt smirked, his hand snaking its way up and down your neck with soft fingers.

You smiled in return, batting your lashes at him like a cat, "hi, Matthew"

"you look sexy as fuck right now, you know that?" He said, his words rolling off his tongue like honey.

You chuckled slightly, rolling your eyes and attempting to return to doing your makeup, Matt tutted at your slight attitude with faux anger, pulling your head back up to face him as he leaned down on bent knees, capturing your neck in his hand and kissing you roughly.

The force he kissed you with sent you backwards, Matt catching you in his lap as he met you on the floor. Your head was cradled in his legs, your view of him upside down. Kurt Cobain was shredding on the guitar, the sound giving your face a whole new beauty that Matt was lost in.

"you look like this song" Matt muttered, in awe of how completely beautiful you were.

You couldn't help but laugh, lifting yourself up and turning round to face him, your legs tucked under you like a baby deer, "what?" you said with a smile.

Matt brought a hand to your jaw, swiping his thumb along your smudged lipstick, knowing it was probably stained on his mouth too,

"y'know how this song makes you feel when you listen to it? like you're vibrating, you can feel every cell in your body and your heart thumpin' in your chest so hard it could break a rib" Matt said, quoting you the first time you played this song in his presence.

"yeah?" You smirked with furrowed brows, letting Matt poke and prod at your puffy bottom lip.

"thats how you make me feel, when I look at you" Matt finally brought his eyes to yours.

Matts words made you feel warm all over, you couldn't even muster up a reply, the only thing in your mind being how not only was that easily the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to you, but how all you wanted to do in that moment was pin matt to the floor and ride in him into oblivion for remembering your exact words about one of your favourite songs of all time.

His eyes were pouring into yours, your breathing got slightly heavier and your mouth parted. The song was coming to end, steady drums and repeated 'hellos' being the only sound in the room as you attempted to form a sentence in reply to Matt.

Nothing you could think to say was coherent, or appropriate for the time frame in which you'd known each other so, you did the one thing you knew Matt would understand.

You threw yourself into him, capturing your lips in his with feverish passion, pressing your tongue against his almost immediately. Matt welcomed your attack, kissing you back with matched desperation. You crawled onto his lap, straddling him and raking your hands through the tangled curls at the nape of his neck, pulling his hat off to give you better access to his soft brown hair.

Matts hands were on your waist, pulling you down into him as he lowered you both onto the floor, his back pressing against the hard wood. His hands snuck up your nearly bare back, the feeling of his skin against yours sending you into a frenzy. Every press of his finger tips felt like hot wax as you quietly moaned into his mouth, grinding your hips against his, trying to chase any friction you could.

Matt tensed at your movements, hips rutting up into yours involuntarily as you pushed your barely clothed pussy down on his growing bulge.

"need it, now" you whimpered into the kiss, your words demanding but your tone desperate.

Matt chuckled, "right now, angel? thought you were gettin' ready?" he muttered into your mouth, chasing your lips.

"right now" you replied, speaking in two word sentences, unable to shake the fever that had overcome you.

Matt smirked and slid his hands down your back and over your fishnet covered ass, pulling apart your cheeks slightly, making you arch above him like a cat. Your hands left his hair and dipped in between the two of you, you fiddled with the button of his jeans, snaking your cold hand into his jeans.

Matt let out a short hiss, and you captured his mouth in yours once more, pumping him as best you could under the restriction of his jeans. Matt moaned into your mouth, and brought his hand down to your ass, smacking it in encouragement. You used your other hand to fumble with the top of his jeans, pushing them down with needy whines and whimpers into the messy kiss.

Once you had managed to free Matt of his jeans, him doing nothing to help, enjoying watching you be so desperate for his cock, you sat up, still pumping him in your hand as you did. Matt watched in awe, with your lipstick smudged over your face and your eyes fluttering with needy ache, you'd never looked more beautiful.

Matt came up slightly to rest on his elbows, eyes still trained on yours. You brought your free hand to his mouth and swiped your middle and index over his stained lips, Matt knew what you wanted, and took your hand in his, opening it into a small bowl in front of his mouth. He held eye contact with you, and collected his saliva on his tongue, spitting it into your palm. You smiled, taking your now wet hand and replacing the hand on his cock with it.

The feeling of your sticky hand against his cock made his head roll back on its hinge, eyes fluttering as a low groan left his mouth. You shifted your hand up and down his length, rubbing his spit all over his throbbing shaft and over his leaking pink head. Shifting slightly, you lifted yourself up, pulling your underwear to the side and lining Matts tip up with your aching hole.

You lowered down onto him, the burning stretch of his cock filling you up as you sunk down inciting a breathless moan from you, nudging your puffy clit against the scattering of hair at the base of his cock as you let him nestle into you completely.

Matts mouth was opened wide, his head snapping back up to watch as you sucked him into your tight walls completely, brows burrowed at the sensation of you clenching around him.

You began to move, resting your hands against his chest as leverage as you moved to place the bottoms of your feet against the floor, squatting on top of him.

The new angle made your pussy grip Matts cock in a way he'd never experienced before,

"oh fuck" Matt said through gritted teeth as you began to bounce on him.

You were lost in it, his earlier words playing on repeat in your mind as you moved up and down his veiny cock, relishing in the sting of him stretching out your unprepared pussy. Despite the lack of foreplay, you were soaked, and you could feel yourself leaking sticky juices against the base of his cock every time he bottomed out side of you.

Whimpering, desperate moans left your throat as you fucked him, taking him as deep as you could, milking him with every bounce. Matt couldn't keep his eyes off where the two of you met, watching as you rose up and down on his length, his whole body tingling at the feeling of your tight pussy coupled with the slight sting of your nails digging into your chest.

"m'gonna cum if you keep riding me like this, angel" Matt said, breathlessly as he reluctantly tore his eyes from your skin slapping against his and met your eye line.

"s'what I want, cum inside me, please" you mumbled, begging as you relentlessly milked his cock.

"you - fuck - you know the rules, angel, you -" Matt cut himself off with a moan, "you cum first" his eyes flit back to the sight of your perfect pussy taking him, and he brought his thumb up to your mouth, pushing it inside and laying it against your warm tongue.

You pushed your tongue against his digit, wrapping your lips around his lowest knuckle with a small hum. Matt pulled his thumb from your mouth with a pop, taking his free hand and using it to push you up slightly, giving him better access to your clit and the perfect opportunity to wrap his hand round your throat.

Matt laid back completely onto the floor, with one hand on your throat, and the other working your clit, he watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, unable to control your contorting face as he worked a relentless pace on your sensitive nub. You picked up your speed, ignoring the ache in your thighs as you desperately worked to get Matt to cum.

"tell m-" you stuttered, "tell me again"

Matt smirked, the events of the last few minutes adding up in his mind, you liked it when he told you how he felt about you, without actually telling you.

"you look like a Nirvana song, angel, so pretty n' so messy, all for me" He cooed, trying his best to make his words clear despite his fucked out, wavering tone.

"mphm" your brows knit together, you shifted your position, straddling him once more to grind your hips back and forth against his.

The drag of your pussy against his base, along with the wet, sticky pace Matt was setting on your clit and his perfect words made you see stars, and you came all over his cock, vision going blurry as you reached your high.

You moaned out his name, unable to stop the noises that left your mouth as you shook above him, legs tensing around his hips and nails digging little crescent moons into his chest.

"fuck, pretty girl, you look s'good when you cum all over my cock" Matt said, bringing a hand to hold your hip, grinding you down onto him faster as you started to get lightheaded.

"y'want me to fill you up, angel? soak your perfect pussy in my cum whilst your favourite songs play in the background?" Matt mumbled, slowing his pace on your clit and moving his other hand to your hip.

"please" you whimpered

Matt didn't need any more permission, he lifted you up slightly, the movement making you flop forward onto him, catching yourself with a hand round his jaw. Without warning, he began to pound into you, using his grip on your hips as leverage to mercilessly fuck your weeping pussy.

You let out a broken moan, trying to capture his lips in yours but failing, trailing wet, sloppy pecks on his mouth as he thrust into you at a feverish pace, grunting and groaning at the feeling of you clenching around him.

"so fuckin' needy for me, tough girl, all because I told you somthin' nice" Matt said though gritted teeth, "you feel as good as you look, y'know that?"

You couldn't even begin to muster a reply, only moans spilling from your mouth as Matts relentless pace into your pussy made you completely cock dumb. With a few hard, long thrusts, Matt buried himself inside you completely, dick twitching in your walls as he coated them with his cum, moaning your name as he went limp beneath you.

You breathed into each others mouths, foreheads rested against each others as your body weight relaxed down onto him.

"you gonna keep getting ready, angel?" Matt mumbled, pulling out of you.

"mhm" you nodded breathlessly, "just need a minute"

Matt chuckled, wrapping his tattooed arms around you as you caught your breath on top of him. "okay tough girl" He said, just before pressing a long kiss into the side of your head.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour

[luvgam3]

Workwife!Shoko to fuel my delusions ♡

Cw: afab!reader, nsfw under cut, hospital coworkers au, wholesome flirting turned more, shoko the p☆ssy destroyer, a fwb situation…

Workwife!Shoko who instantly took a liking to you the day you started working together. She was tasked with training you for the whole week, in all reality she was dreading it— but upon seeing your dazzling smile and hearing your bubbly voice that all melted away.

Workwife!Shoko who only ever let you touch her. Whether it was resting your head against her shoulder after a long shift, or looping your arm with hers as you walk through the halls between shifts. You even clung to her during your smoke breaks— your knees knocking together as you blew smoke into the frigid air.

Workwife!Shoko who started inviting you out every Friday night for a drink at a nearby bar. You’d walk side by side, subtle flirting flowing in-between conversation. The flirting got bolder as liquid courage flowed down your throats. Her hand would find punches on your clothed thigh under the table, the dingy light swinging overhead doing nothing to hide the glint of lust in her eyes as she watched you sip at your beer unknowingly.

Workwife!Shoko who was used to your drunken kisses. By the end of the night neither of you could drive, so you’d sit in the backseat of a taxi and babble to one another. Your simple goodnight kisses— a quick peck on the lips— evolved into you littering Shoko with kisses before you even got out of the cab.

Workwife!Shoko who now has a section in her closet for your clothes and scrubs for when you spend the night. Your bras are always in her laundry bin or left on her floor. The first time you spent the night at her house was when you both had off the next day, so it’s not like you had to rush home and change before your shift— you only made that mistake once.

Workwife!Shoko who loves to tease you at work after a particularly intense night. ‘Awe you’re limping, are you okay?’ ‘You’ve got a little bruise on your neck, did something happen?’ Ugh she loves watching your cheeks flush as you turn and storm away. She knows you’re limping because she had your legs hooked over her shoulders for hours on end, bullying her strap into your tight little cunt. She knows she’s the one who left that hickey on your neck and just “forgot” to tell you before you left.

Workwife!Shoko who will catch you on your lunch break, dragging you into a supply closet just to hike up your scrub top and yank down your bra to suck on your tits as you grind against her leg. You’ll be starving for the rest of the day but the feeling of her hot tongue against your skin lingers for hours.

Workwife!Shoko who doesn’t care if you date around. You’re still friends after all. Just know that once your heart gets broken (yet again) she’ll be at your door with takeout and beer. Friends make each other feel better… her way just ends up with your face pushed into a pillow while she laps at your pussy like it’s the only thing she’s eaten in days. Her hands grasping at the globes of your ass as you tremble and whine, spit and tears wetting your pillow.

Workwife!Shoko who keeps her nails short because of work but learned that it has its benefits. It’s so easy to finger fuck you in the backseat of her car when her nails are always perfectly trimmed!

Workwife!Shoko who usually tops, but even she has her days where all she wants is to be taken care of— and boy do you deliver. She’s taught you well, your hips piston into her with reckless abandon as her fingers fist the sheets. You eat her out like an expert, only coming back up to mash your lips against her in a desperate needy kiss, your chin dripping with saliva and her. You even tie her hands behind her back on days where all she can think about is regaining her control even when she doesn’t really want to— you’re such a lifesaver— pulling at her confines as you plow into her, her ass bouncing with each thrust of your hips as she whimpers.

[archangeldyke-all]

Sevika idea? Modern AU. Sevika and Reader (mostly reader because Sevika just grumbles about it) decide to take Jinx and Isha to an amusement park for the first time. Sevika is..... okay with it? But it's not her thing..

..That is until they get there and Sevika goes into full dad mode when she rides a rollercoaster with the two and now she can't stop because she wants to ride everything with them.

GOD GOD GOD i love fluffy fluffy fluff like this omg

men and minors dni

the girls sit you down one evening, both of them wearing determined looks and wearing one of sevika's old ties around their neck. jinx does most of the talking while isha hands out brochures and drawings.

"ladies, thank you for coming to this meeting." she greets. sevika rolls her eyes.

"you both forced us to come sit on the couch."

"shush." jinx flips sevika off quickly, before clearing her throat and continuing. "you may be wondering why we've asked you here today--"

"dragged." sevika corrects.

"hush!" jinx stomps her foot. isha glares at sevika. you elbow her. she sighs.

"fine, go."

"we have a business proposition for you." jinx announces. "in exchange for a month's allowance, we'd like you to take us to, drum roll please..."

isha pats her lap, giggling as you join in.

"randy's rollercoasters!" isha does a little twirl for emphasis.

sevika groans. you chuckle. isha hands you two brochures for randy's rollercoasters.

"now, hold on a second." you cut in. "we give you an allowance in exchange for your chores. you're telling me you'll clean the toilets without any pay? all month?" you ask.

jinx and isha nod, and isha crosses over her heart as a promise.

sevika grunts beside you. "and what are we supposed to do there while you two go on all the rides? stand in the hot sun and wait around all day?"

"oh, come on, sev! you can ride with us!"

"fuck no!"

"they sell beer." you mutter under your breath, pointing to the drinks and food section of your brochure. "we could just get tipsy and make out in dark corners while the kids ride."

jinx sticks her tongue out at the suggestion, but sevika seems intrigued. isha's blinking up at both of you with her hands folded under her chin, her gold eyes wide and watery as she waits for an answer.

sevika sighs, then groans. "fine."

the girls burst into cheers.

that's what you think will happen-- that the girls will have a great time and you and sevika will make the most of your day loitering around the park.

but then you get there, and isha gets spooked seeing how big the rollercoasters really are, and you and sevika promise to go on her first ride with her to show her it's safe.

but something about the thrill and watching her girls squeal with fear and excitement makes sevika all giddy and excited after the first ride.

it's adorable.

"have you never been on a roller coaster before, babe?"

"it's been almost twenty years!" she laughs, hoisting isha onto her shoulders. "okay, which one are we hitting next?" she asks jinx. isha squeals with excitement. you pout.

"we!? what about me?! i'll get sick if i go on another one of those rides."

sevika turns to you with a pout. your heart swells in your chest.

"c'mon, baby, please? just a few more rides, and i'm yours for the day. i just wanna do the log flume. and maybe the one with the loops."

"and the death dropper." jinx adds on. sevika nods.

"yeah, and the death dropper."

you examine your wife, laughter bubbling up in your lungs as you take in the excited, childlike glimmer in her eye. she's just as excited as isha and jinx. "you kids go have fun. if you need me, i'll be by the funnel cakes and beer." you say, shooing your family away toward the rides.

sevika grins, kissing your cheek and taking off with jinx at her side, isha cackling as they run toward the next ride.

so, you don't get to make out with your wife much. but you get a whole bunch of fun pictures of your family on the rides, a lot of cotton candy, and three million watt smiles from your girls and wife every time they come off a ride.

when the day winds down and the girls get tired, you walk around the carnival booths on the park grounds, letting isha and jinx play games and win bears.

sevika's got an arm slung around your shoulders, a smile on her lips. "'m sorry i abandoned you today." she says. you laugh.

"are you kidding? i had a blast today. getting to watch you three have all that fun, snacking and drinking to my heart's content-- we should do this every weekend." you suggest.

isha and jinx both perk up at that. sevika cackles. "no! no, we can not afford that. but, we can come back for isha's birthday." she suggests.

isha wins you a teddy bear with one of the darts games, then sevika gets jealous and tries to win you one of the strength testers. only, she hits the hammer so hard it's handle snaps in half, and the attendant has to close the stand for the night.

you buy the girls slushies then pile into the ferris wheel.

the sun is setting on the horizon, lighting up the little cart the four of you sit in. isha and jinx are chattering to themselves with their faces pressed against the glass, giving you and sevika some semblance of privacy on your little seat.

"you really had fun today?" sevika asks. you smile and nod.

"it was amazing. i love hearing you all laugh like that. especially you." you say.

sevika grins and swoops in to kiss you, just as your cart reaches the top of the wheel.

the girls 'ooh' and 'aah' and the height and the sights, and then they both groan when they turn around and find you two kissing.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion