#last time before i start working on these kisses

[starryjake]

revenge | s.j

in which you get your revenge on jake after the time he overstimulated you with a vibrator.

pairing: jake x fem!reader

includes: sub jake, use of sex toys (vibrator), overstimulation, drooling and crying kinda, cumming multiple times, kinda bondage (lmk if i missed anything).

jake was so pretty. absolutely exhausted jake who just wanted to cuddle with you and go to sleep was too, too pretty.

you just had to have your fun with him.

besides, he should’ve seen it coming. he’d done the same thing to you last week.

you were tired from a long day of work and classes and jake thought it was the perfect time to absolutely torture you with a vibrator. he made you cum so many times, you’d lost count, but you were so oversensitive that it hurt.

that night, you couldn’t wait to get your revenge.

and then it was time: when jake was so sleepy and dazed, bound to go along with what you say until he would realize what was happening.

“baby,” he said softly as you started nipping his jawline, clearly trying to get his attention. “i’m too sleepy.”

“i know,” you mumbled, your lips pressed against his neck, “but i wanna have some fun.”

jake looked down at you, his sweet, sweet girl. he never wanted to deny you of the things you wanted, even when he was as tired as he was.

“i just don’t know if i can do anything, sweetheart,” he said. “you can hump me or ride my thigh if you want. just don’t be mad if i fall asleep.”

“no, jake,” you whined, trailing your hand down his bare torso. “you need to have some fun with me too.”

you grabbed his cheek and attached your lips to his before he could even realize you were doing it. he instantly melted into the kiss, sighing against your lips and bringing his hands up to your hair.

“so needy,” he mumbled against your mouth.

he couldn’t see it since his eyes were closed, but you rolled your eyes. you were needy, sure. needy to see him get what was coming for him.

testing, you dragged your hand down to cup his bulge, feeling if he was hard yet. you weren’t surprised to find that he was. it never took him very long, even when he insisted he was too tired.

you stroked your hand up and down his clothed erection for a minute, getting him worked up enough that he would actually want to cum and take back what he said about being too tired.

you knew he was at that point when you pulled away from him entirely and he pouted at you, his facial expression asking why you stopped.

saying nothing, you reached into the bedside table drawer and pulled out the fully charged bullet vibrator he’d used on you last week. jake’s face remained expressionless, not catching on to what was going on. he really was tired.

you set it on the bed and went back over to jake, pulling his pants down to his knees. he’d forgone underwear since he was just going to sleep, his cock springing out and slapping against his stomach. he was fully hard, his tip a light pink color and drooling a bit of pre cum.

for a moment there, distracted by the sight of his dick, you forgot all about your plan for the vibrator. you wrapped your hand around his shaft and started slowly jerking him off, watching his face contort with pleasure.

it was only when you felt him twitch in your grip that you remembered your mission.

you let go of him, much to his displeasure, picking the vibrator back up. he watched you turn it on, the humming sound of it suddenly filling your shared bedroom.

“what are you doing?” he whined, lolling his head to the side. “just make me cum and let me go to sleep.”

you scoffed. he was such a brat, it only made you want to use it on him even more.

“i will make you cum,” you assured. “just close your eyes.”

“i’ll fall asleep if i close ‘em,” he said.

“you won’t,” you assured him.

he sighed and closed his eyes, immediately becoming more relaxed. his shoulders slumped and his facial features softened.

you didn’t waste any time and brought the little pink vibrator right to the tip of his leaking cock.

jake jolted in shock, his eyes flying open.

“what the hell?” he almost yelled. “what are you doing?”

“having fun,” you answered.

he reached out to grab your wrist but you stopped him with a menacing glare.

“try to stop me and i’ll tie your hands up,” you warned.

“y/n, please,” jake huffed, staring down at you running the vibrator around his tip. “you’re not using your vibrator on me.”

“you did it to me first,” you reminded him. “you used it on me until i was shaking and begging you to stop. and i’ve been thinking about getting back at you everyday since.”

“i’m sorry!” jake cried out, tossing his head back in either frustration or pleasure, or both.

he couldn’t deny that it felt good. for such a small vibrator, the pressure was there. he could feel it intensely pulsating against his tip, pushing out more and more beads of clear precum. you’d only just begun and he was already so messy.

“i’m sure,” you mumbled, gathering some of the precum with your other hand.

jake bit his lip, feeling a warmth spread in his stomach and he knew he was already close. it hadn’t been very long but his sensations were heightened from his exhaustion.

“i’m close,” he told you.

you didn’t stop or slow down. in fact, you ran the vibrator down from his tip to his shaft and back up, his balls tightening from the unfamiliar sensation. his back arched in a way that was so pretty, your eyes widening from how affected he was by the vibrator.

“go ahead,” you said. “go ahead and cum for me.”

with that, his jaw fell slack and he groaned loudly as ropes of cum spurted out from his tip, which was a slightly darker pink than it’d been when you started.

“mmm, fuck,” he moaned, head tossed back and hips thrusting up slightly to ride out his high. “oh, yeah.”

a sheen of sweat covered his chest and his rosy cheeks. his chest rose and fell rapidly with little gasps of air. he came for longer than you imagined he would considering you’d only just started, but you assumed it was because he’d never had a vibrator used on him before.

you turned the vibrator off for a moment, taking in the state of jake before you. a puddle of his cloudy cum coated his stomach and his eyes were shut. his chest rose and fell less rapidly, telling you that he was finally calming down.

“jake?” you said after a minute.

he hummed, his eyes still closed. it was clear he was right on the brink of falling asleep.

to keep him from doing so, you turned the vibrator back on and held it against the underside of his cock below his tip, his most sensitive spot.

he jolted, eyes flying open like they had before.

“oh, fuck,” he moaned, grabbing your wrist to try and stop you again. “please. i can’t.”

“you can,” you assured him, holding the vibrator and his cock all in your one hand.

“please,” he cried. “it’s too much. i’m too sensitive, y/n.”

“you’re okay,” you responded, thinking about how sensitive you were when he did the same thing to you.

“oh my god,” he nearly sobbed. “‘m cumming.”

it was so, so quick. only a minute in and he was already shooting out more ropes of cum, landing on top of the puddle that was already there, creating an even bigger mess of himself.

he whimpered, entirely shoving your hand off of him to give himself a break.

“what’d i say?” you asked, demeanor darkening.

“you’re not tying me up,” he declared, like he was in charge.

“wanna bet?”

jake’s big brown eyes widened, watching as you reached into the drawer again to pull out the silk rope. you certainly weren’t afraid to use it on him, especially if he was going to be pushing your hands off.

“don’t,” he begged. “please.”

“then stop trying to push me off,” you said sternly.

“but it’s too much,” he whined.

he was already keeping a close eye on your hand gripping the vibrator, weary for when were going to bring it back to his cock again. it almost made you want to laugh.

“you can do it,” you said. “you can be good for me, yeah?”

he bit his lower lip, hanging his head.

you brought the vibrator back to his cock, turning it onto the next highest setting from before. his poor cock jake gasped, instinctively grabbing onto your wrist again despite what you’d just told him.

“jake,” you sighed, growing frustrated.

“i’m sorry!” he said, immediately retreating his hand.

you set the vibrator aside and grabbed the silk rope. you grabbed his hands and pushed them together, tying the rope around them tight enough that he wouldn’t be able to touch you again.

jake had a little pout on his face like a child who’d just gotten scolded after getting in trouble. it filled your body with warmth, how cute he was.

“i just wanna make you feel good,” you reasoned, pressing the vibrator onto his slit.

he hissed, pushing his hips up. his abs clenched, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face from the intensity of the vibrator and from already cumming twice.

“i know, baby,” he said while exhaling shakily. “it’s just…a lot.”

“but i know you can do it,” you cooed, dragging the vibrator down a vein on his dick.

he clenched his jaw, the mixture of pain and pleasure so overwhelming that it was clouding his mind, slowly turning him dumb.

“i can’t,” he mumbled pathetically. “it feels so fucking good though.”

“i know, honey,” you cooed softly.

you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen him prettier. his eyes were glazed over, his cheeks and ears a bright pink, and completely covered in his own cum. you wanted to ruin him, make a mess out of your tired boyfriend.

he tried to squeeze the bedsheets, but he was so weak. he couldn’t express his pleasure other than desperate moans.

he didn’t even warn you the next time he came. it just started coming out out his red, used tip, drooling out slowly in comparison to the sharp ropes that were spurting out before.

you were were pretty sure you saw a tear a slip down his face and were certain that he was drooling. he moaned shamelessly, so out of it that he felt like he was dreaming. he’d never felt so fucked out in his life.

you kept the vibrator pressed against him while he came and didn’t remove it this time to let him calm down.

“oh my god,” he slurred. “baby, pl—oh fuck. i’m cumming again.”

less than 30 seconds than cumming before and he was already cumming again, which you didn’t even know was possible.

his load was smaller, but his reaction was bigger. he threw his head back, exposing his pretty neck. his entire body tensed and the prettiest, most desperate moans and whimpers came tumbling out past his lips, swollen from biting and drooling.

“fuck, i can’t stop,” he moaned.

you watched him, feeling the wetness pool in your panties from how beautiful of a sight it was.

the veins in his body throbbed, his muscles clenched, and he just a beautiful mess. his cock was drenched in his own cum, the vibrator slipping against him.

you caressed his leg, removing the vibrator from his spent cock. he let out a groan of relief from you finally pulling it away, of giving him a moment to breathe.

his eyes were closed, his entire body limp. you lifted his hands in order to untie the silk rope, setting his hands free.

you sat up on your knees, caressing his face until he opened his eyes again, looking up at you.

“you okay?” you asked, your thumb brushing his cheek.

“mhm,” he mumbled, even more tired than he was before. “that was fucking…insane.”

“was it too much?” you wondered, grabbing some tissues from the box on the nightstand to start cleaning him up.

“yeah,” he said, “in the best way possible.”

you chuckled, running your fingers through his sweaty hair, pushing it out of his face.

“go to sleep, okay?” you said.

“but can we cuddle?” he asked sweetly.

“yes, we can cuddle,” you responded.

“and can i be little spoon?” he asked.

“yes, jake.”

-

screaming. shoutout to the anon who requested this, i loved the idea so much! sub jake just….don’t get me started actually!

[ellieputellas]

prove you wrong | alexia putellas x reader

You carelessly tell everyone you've never been sexually satisfied to piss off your fuck buddy, Alexia. She decides to prove you wrong and make it known to everyone just how wrong you are. | Inspired by these requests: (1) (2)

tags / contains: wc: 5k, friends with benefits, jealous!alexia, rough sex, strap r!receiving, fingering r!receiving, breath play, a lot of dirty talk, usage of degrading language and names, a bit of orgasm control, dacryphilia if u squint, set when lucy was in barça, semi-public sex kinda

masterlist | please do not repost or plagiarize.

It's been months since you last saw Alexia.

She’s been extremely busy with football, brand deals, and events. As her friend, it made you incredibly proud to see her achieving so much. She’s worked so hard and it was about time that she was able to reap her benefits and gain the recognition she so badly deserved.

But as her fuck buddy, the feral, needy side of you was just writhing with sexual frustration and yearning, wanting her to fuck you after every time you’d watch a game of hers.

You tried touching yourself, trying every new vibrator and toy available in the market but not a single toy could replicate the way Alexia made you feel. The way she moved her tongue, her fingers, her hips – it always drove you insane. Every single time with Alexia left you in a dreamy state for days. The sore muscles from all the positions she put you in always left you aching for days, but you loved every bit of it—each ache serving as a lingering reminder of that night.

On different occasions, you wanted to just text her and beg her to come over and fuck the living daylights out of you but it just felt like you might be crossing the line. You two usually just fucked whenever you had free time to spend together; asking her to make time from her busy schedule just felt personal and… intimate. So, instead, you’d sulk at home and try every single possible way of fiddling with yourself to no avail.

Feeling desperate and horny, you made the mistake of making out with Alexia’s friend and teammate Lucy Bronze. You bumped into her during a night out with friends wherein she recognized you as Alexia’s friend from college. A couple drinks down and one thing led to another.

Even if Lucy was an excellent kisser, you didn’t feel the same electric connection with Lucy that you had with Alexia. Though, since then, you’ve maintained close contact with the Brit.

Despite several attempts of hitting on you, you never really responded to any of Lucy’s booty calls. You knew Alexia and you were just friends with benefits but somehow, you felt like it was wrong to do anything more with a friend of hers. It wasn’t as if you two were exclusive… but you still felt hesitant.

Although, after a while, you grew more and more frustrated with Alexia. How was it possible that Lucy had enough free time to hit you up but Alexia seemed too busy to even send you a naughty pic or even just a cheeky message? You felt neglected and increasingly sexually frustrated.

Little did you know that word had gotten to Alexia that you made out with Lucy.

Ever since the two of you started hooking up, Alexia had grown increasingly infatuated with you, craving the feel of your skin and the taste of your lips at every waking moment. If she could, she'd have you beneath her every day of the week. But as life got busier for both of you, she held back, reasoning that it would be selfish to hit you up randomly in the middle of a busy week just to scratch an itch. Besides, she had always been the one to initiate before, and this time, she decided to wait. She waited to see if you wanted her as desperately as she wanted you.

But the silence from you was deafening.

No late-night texts, no "I miss you," not even a casual "wyd." At first, she convinced herself you were just busy. Then she heard through the grapevine that you'd been kissing one of her teammates at some club.

The news hit her like a punch to the gut, leaving her pissed off and bitter. If you'd moved on or decided to have fun with some other girl, fine, you weren’t in a relationship anyway — but it didn't make it sting any less. And to top it off, she had to find out from someone else that you were attending the team’s victory party at Lucy’s place.

The audacity, Alexia thought bitterly. Even if it technically was Lucy’s party, she thought you’d have the decency to refuse or to even just give her a heads-up, knowing that it might be weird to be around Alexia and Lucy. No decency at all.

When you got the invite, you hesitated. But then you decided this was your chance to remind Alexia exactly what she had seemingly forgotten about. After all, she'd ghosted you out of nowhere, leaving you high and dry after giving you the best sex of your life.

So, the night of the party, you slipped into a tight black dress that hugged every curve and sprayed on the perfume you knew drove Alexia crazy. If she thought she could move on so easily, you were more than ready to remind her of what she'd lost.

As soon as you entered Lucy’s place, she was the first person you saw.

It wasn't hard for you to see her. She was usually taller than most girls and she always just exuded a confident energy that never failed to catch everyone's attention. She was wearing a black cap and a black jacket, with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows exposing her muscular forearms. Your mind tried not to remember all the times you watched the veins in her arm bulge out so slightly as she pumped her fingers in and out of you.

You locked eyes and her jaw instantly clenched. She looked upset. You would have felt a bit bad about never reaching out to congratulate her on all those winning games or even checking up on her if you didn't see her arm around a shorter girl you didn’t recognize.

Great. I've been replaced.

You rolled your eyes and headed to the corner of the house where Lucy and her other friends were seated.

"Hey, mami." Lucy greeted you. She stood up and gave you a kiss on the cheek, immediately snaking a hand around your waist. You loved how Lucy was never secretive of her finding you irresistible. Once or twice, you thought about riding that strong jaw but you figured you had to see out a complex friends-with-benefits relationship before entering another one. "Looks like we're all out of seats. Why don't you sit on my lap instead?"

You smirked. "You just would grab any opportunity to have me on top of you, huh?"

She smirked, biting her lip. "You know it."

You sat on Lucy's lap sideways, arms around her to secure your spot as your legs dangled on her side. She put her hands around you with her left hand on your back and the other drawing small spirals on your bare lap.

Alexia must have caught sight of this because you saw her looking over, jaw clenched and eyes darkened.

“I’m just so glad this season is done. I seriously need to go out to the clubs and get laid… get all that tension out of my body.” Patri, who was sitting on the floor beside Pina and Salma, complained to the group before taking a swig from her beer. “Nothing like unwinding to a girl between your legs.”

The crowd chuckled. Ingrid playfully threw a rolled up paper towel at Patri calling her gross. You smiled and nodded along as you let Lucy run her hands up and down your leg. “Thirsty, pretty girl?” She asked.

You shook your head. “You?”

“Hmm, why don’t you grab that beer and help me out?” She asked. You smiled as you grabbed the beer with your free hand and put the bottle against Lucy’s mouth, tipping it a bit as you let her drink from it. You bit your lip as the older girl maintained intense eye contact as you did.

Alexia was practically seething from the sight of it but continued to ignore you, staying at the other side of the room. The girl in her arms was trying to chat her up, asking about football or whatever, but all she could focus on was you.

The conversation continued with the group. “I’d hate to be single right now. How do you have the energy to go out and exert all that effort just to get laid?” Mapi exclaimed as she put an arm around her girlfriend who was sitting beside her. “If I were single, I’d rather just grab my vibrator and call it a day.”

Patri rolled her eyes. “You’re just saying that cause you have Ingrid.” She retorted. “If you were single, you’d be out there in the clubs with us too.”

You could feel Lucy’s body vibrate against you as she chuckled. You grabbed Lucy’s bottle of beer, drinking from it as you continued to listen in on the conversation that was unfolding.

“I agree with Patri.” Irene chimed in, swirling a plastic cup with her hand. “I’d hate to be single and always end up masturbating at night. That would make me miserable.”

Patri nodded, as she raised her bottle high up. “Exactly, exactly!”

“The orgasm you get from a girl does not compare to one you get alone.” Irene added on, garnering a slow clap from the drunken Patri.

You laughed at the interaction. Lucy turned to you with a small smirk. "How about you? What do you think?"

You paused. You noticed Alexia move closer to our group. You hummed in thought, returning your gaze back to Lucy. "I don't know. I feel like it depends. It's a case-to-case basis and it just depends on who your partner is and what you want." You said, loud enough for others to hear. “So, yeah, I don’t have a clear cut answer.”

Mapi nodded to what you said. “Yeah, but having to find someone who suits you… it just takes too much time. If you’re single, you’re basically gambling every single time you decide to sleep with someone.” She said as she shook her head. “Besides, why would you want someone you barely met handling your precious goods?”

“We get it, Mapi. You’re in a loving relationship where you have sweet, sweet, compatible sex.” Patri said, rolling her eyes and making the crowd chuckle.

Before the two could continue debating, Pina chimed in. “Capitana,” She called Alexia over. "Settle the debate for us. What's a better way of unwinding after football season — masturbating or going out to have someone take care of it for you?"

Alexia moved closer to the group, an arm wrapped around a girl and her other hand wrapped around a red cup. She looked serious with her eyes still fixed on you. "She hasn't actually answered the question yet." She responded, looking at you as she tilted her cup at your direction.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, defeated. "I guess, I'd choose just making myself cum."

Mapi nodded smugly at Patri who felt annoyed.

"Really? I always pegged you as a pillow princess type. Like... the type who has to be pleased by someone else?" Lucy asked, fingertips still suggestively grazing your thighs

You hummed in thought. "Well, I haven’t found anyone who pleases me better than I do myself.” You lied with a shrug, looking directly at Lucy and avoiding Alexia’s gaze. “Why bother trying to find someone to aimlessly poke at me until I fake it when I can just take care of it myself?”

The group laughed at your statement but Alexia remained stoic and stiff. "Really?" Her voice dripped with thinly veiled annoyance. "Are you trying to say that no one has ever made you cum before? You always just fake it?”

“Yeah, no one really comes to mind.” You shook your head. "Besides, I'd much rather spend a night getting tired out by my vibrator rather than to be disappointed by some tryhard who fingers like they have carpal tunnel or eats me out with the same limp energy of an old man with his porridge."

The crowd laughed even harder but Alexia looked even more annoyed. If everyone was sober and in the right mind, they'd catch on to her reaction to your bold statement and figure out there was definitely something between the two of you.

You tried to laugh along but you felt weirdly nervous about lying. Alexia didn’t seem too pleased with your statement. Why is she so pissed off? It’s not as if anyone here knows we’ve slept together.

You were pulled out of your worries when you felt Lucy’s hands move higher up your leg, skimming the skin under your tight dress.

"Why don't you give the poor vibrator a rest from tiring you out," Lucy whispered, playfully using your own words. "And have me give it a try?"

You moved closer to her. "Hmm, I don’t know. Aren’t we just friends now?" You said softly so that the group wouldn’t hear too but still loud enough for Alexia to hear, if she tried hard enough. “Sex might just complicate that.”

“C’mon, we already kissed.” Lucy smiled with eyes that flickered from your eyes to your lips. "Besides, isn’t it worth risking it? I know I can pleasure you better than anyone else ever had.”

You smiled and playfully caressed her strong jaw with your fingers. “Well…” You trailed off seductively in a low voice, moving closer to Lucy’s face. "I've always wanted to feel that strong jaw against—"

Your flirting was cut abruptly when Alexia angrily threw her crumpled red cup to the ground and walked out of Lucy’s place. Everyone looked around confused, including the girl she was with. She blinked curiously as her eyes stuck at the door, wondering why Alexia had left so abruptly; the poor girl was just talking about her new manicure.

"Damn, I guess, no one's making her cum either." Patri joked, garnering a bunch of playful slaps and chuckles from the group but the room still seemed to be confused; Alexia was never the type to storm out in anger out of nowhere.

You tried to just shake off Alexia's mood swing and returned to flirting with Lucy but just minutes later, Alexia was storming back into the living room. She stomped her way to you and grabbed your hand, basically yanking you off of Lucy. You nearly tripped over your own feet as she grabbed you.

"What the fuck, Alexia?" You exclaimed as you were pulled by the arm by the tall blonde. "That fucking hurts. What's your problem?"

She didn't speak up. She basically dragged across the house until you reached what seemed like Lucy’s bedroom. She slammed the door loudly and locked it behind her.

Now that you were alone, you could see the annoyed look on her face, the redness across her cheeks, the tightness of her expression… and the slight bulge in her pants. Oh... that's what she had to get from her car when she stormed out.

She slammed you against the bedroom door, towering over you and trapping you with her arms. You gulped as you felt your back press flatly against the door.

Alexia suddenly grabbed your face with one hand, gripping so hard your lips were almost puckering out. "Why are you running your mouth about how no one's made you cum?" She said with a low, threatening voice. Her hazel eyes had darkened under the dim lights of the bedroom.

You stared at her, blinking your eyes in fear. She was so frightening when she was mad; it was like she was a completely different person. Her eyes, which were usually warm, were staring at you pointedly. All of the muscles in her face clenched as she slightly grit her teeth. And, while you were actually scared, you were also getting incredibly turned on.

Alexia squished your face harder, slamming her other hand on the door. You felt the wood pressed behind you vibrate with the force. "Answer." She leaned in and aggressively bit the side of your neck, sinking her teeth into you.

You gasped loudly in shock. "Ahh, Alexia, that really hurts."

She ignored you. She moved her head back to stare you in the eyes before she wrapped her hand around your throat. "Tell me who makes you cum." She asked.

You gulped as you felt her hand tighten slowly. "I'm sorry, Alexia." You responded, feeling incredibly nervous and intimidated. "I'm sorry I lied. I was just joking. I just missed you so much and I was frustrated that you never contacted me and I just wanted to see you react to —"

You gagged as her hand suddenly got tighter. "I didn't ask for an explanation." She growled. "I asked who fucking makes you cum."

You gasped for air as her hand loosened a bit. "It's you, baby. It's just you." You croaked out.

"What did you just fucking call me?" She growled in your ear; you felt the familiar electric tingle in your spine as she breathed heavily against your ear. “You don’t get to fucking call me that when you’ve been such a brat.”

"Alexia," You moaned, correcting yourself. "It's you, Alexia. It's you who makes me cum. Only you make me cum, Alexia.."

You felt like a blubbering mess but Alexia seemed pleased because she let your throat go, and fondly touched your cheek instead with her thumb. You inhaled deeply before leaning towards her to kiss her but she moved away.

"Bad girls don't get kisses." Her mouth quirked up into a smirk. "Bad girls get on their knees instead and offer their mouth like a slut."

You looked down again and you were once again reminded of the strap poking against the front of her denim pants. You gulped but got on your knees and slowly unbuttoned her baggy jeans which revealed a harnessed strap-on above her Calvin Klein underwear.

You bit your lip. You gasped when Alexia grabbed a chunk of your hair and looked down on you. "Open your mouth." She said as she tilted your head back with her hand.

You opened your mouth, obediently. "Now, stick your tongue out, you fucking slut." She ordered in a low but firm voice.

You didn't let a second pass before you followed her instructions, opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out as far as it could go. She smiled at your obedience before leaning over and spitting in your mouth. You nearly moaned just from the action but before anything could escape your mouth, she slammed her hips against my throat and fucked your mouth with her silicone member.

She grunted and cursed as she watched you suck and gag on it. "That’s right. Suck like a good girl."

You moaned in response as you eagerly sucked on the strap as if your life depended on it. You were gagging a lot with Alexia’s force and your face was streaked with tears but you felt incredibly turned on by the sight and the feeling.

Alexia was gasping and groaning as the base of her strap pressed against her own clit, forming a dark pool on her grey underwear. You moaned at the combination of the sound of her guttural moans and the smell of her wetness. You could practically feel your core grow more and more moist by the second.

"Fucking suck harder, you fucking slut." Her voice sounded venomous with all the expletives she was hissing out. "You don't get to flirt with other bitches in front of me. I own you."

"Or do you just let any other bitch fuck you like this?" She grunted out, looking down at you. Alexia never went this rough with you before but she was starting to enjoy it, especially the sight of your tear-stained face and puffy lips wrapped around her strap. "Are you that much of a pathetic whore? You just let anyone fuck your throat like this?"

You shook your head, unable to speak as she was filling your mouth with the silicone. She moaned out as she pushed your head even further.

You felt tears sting your eyes as she thrusted in your throat with such vigor and roughness. For a moment, you felt like you were just a doll made to satisfy her lust and oddly, it made your core ache more for her.

Alexia tilted her head back, thrusting against your throat. The base of the strap was perfectly hitting against her clit. It felt satisfying knowing she was getting off of fucking your mouth with her strap even if that meant that your throat would be sore in the morning.

"That's right, cariño." She moaned out. "Take all of me.”

It didn't take long until Alexia moaned out. She pulled your head off of her, making a satisfying sound as it exited your mouth. You coughed and wiped the tears and saliva off of your face, clutching your throat as you started to feel the discomfort spread.

Before you could even do or say anything more, Alexia yanked you up immediately and pushed you towards the bed. You fell backwards on the bed, feeling your dress ride up on your body, pooling together near your hips which meant your underwear could be easily seen by the blonde gir.

You felt so exposed and vulnerable.

She took off her jacket and her shirt, revealing her Calvin Klein sports bra and her toned stomach glistening with sweat. You bit your lip as she walked closer to the bed. The dim light entering the windows from the street lights outside and the small night light in the corner of the room was accentuating every contour of her body.

"Strip. Now."

You frantically tried to remove your tight dress. It made it so difficult to remove as some of it clung to your sweaty skin. You felt unsexy wriggling out of it in bed. But, you also felt nervous, knowing Alexia wasn't always the patient type in bed.

"Hurry the fuck up." She groaned. You tried but she grew more frustrated. She took your dress and pulled it off your body roughly. You heard some seams rip as she did but you didn't give a fuck. You were more concerned about her impatience and how it was gonna affect you.

You were mostly bare in front of her, only wearing a pair of lacy black underwear which was now glistening with your translucent nectar.

She chuckled. "You really are a little slut." She said as she used a finger to graze your core, making you whimper. "Look how wet you got just from getting throatfucked by me. I haven't even touched you and your cunt is all drenched."

"Yes, Alexia." You moaned out as she pressed a finger against your clit.

"You really were talking your shit about how no one makes you cum while your cunt is quivering and soaking wet just from giving me a blowjob." Her fingers were so delicate against your core — a weird juxtaposition with the roughness of her words. "I wonder what everyone else would think if they heard you moaning out my name just after you lied out there. They'd think less of you... they'd think you're a dirty liar who loves to provoke just to get fucked. Isn't that right?"

You gulped and bit your lip as she gently moved her fingers up and down your opening, teasing you with the pad of her fingers.

You were broken out of a trance when her hand was squeezing your face again. "Answer me."

"Yes, yes, Alexia." You responded, almost out of breath. “I’m a liar.”

"And I don’t like liars. Right, cariño?" She let go of your face and backed away slowly.

Before you could respond, two fingers were thrust into your hole, roughly fucking you. You moaned out loudly as you felt Alexia's fingers rapidly move inside you with complete disregard of letting you adjust to her fingers. She leaned over to your breasts, sucking on them so roughly that it was almost painful.

"Alexia," You moaned out. "Please give me your strap. Alexia, please."

Alexia ignored you as she continued to fuck you with her fingers and suck on your torso, leaving you branded with bruises all over and glistening with a mixture of your sweat and her saliva.

"Alexia, please." You whimpered.

She groaned loudly before pulling her fingers out of you. You don't know how but she managed to get you off of the bed and pressed against the door again in a swift motion. This time, your front was pressed against the door — hands against the cold wood — with your butt sticking out.

She grunted out curt instructions for you to steady yourself against the door as she positioned herself behind you. She gripped your waist roughly with her long fingers as she rubbed your cunt with the length of her strap. You bit your lip, holding back your moans, too afraid that your proximity to the door would mean everyone out there would hear you, even with the music they were playing.

You grunted out when you felt her grab your hair and mutter in your ear. "You better not choke down those moans, cariño."

She let go of your hair before slamming the entire length of the strap inside you. You moaned out loudly, struggling to grip yoyr hands against the flat door.

"Baby, it hurts.” You winced as you felt her begin to thrust.

"Who said you can call me baby again?" She practically shouted it before raising her hand, landing it on your right ass. It made a loud sound, quickly followed by your loud cry of pain and pleasure.

"I’m sorry, Alexia." You responded. Alexia grabbed on to your waist again, thrusting her silicone dick in and out of you. You were feeling the pain in your core as the silicone stretched you but it was such an addictive pain. It felt so satisfying being filled by Alexia like this.

Alexia must have sensed how close you were to an orgasm because she picked up the pace. The base of the strap hitting your slick vagina which made a loud sound, accompanying your loud moans and Alexia's grunts.

"Alexia, don't stop. I'm so close. Please." You moaned out, hands and legs shaking.

"Don't cum until I tell you." Alexia's voice was strained as well. You knew the base of the strap was rubbing against her own clit too. "If you cum before I do, I will take you out of this room and fuck you in front of everyone else so they can see how much of a fucking, lying whore you really are."

You moaned at that statement, making it even harder for you to delay your orgasm. You felt your walls clench against the strap. Alexia picked up the speed even more, driving you into a frenzy. You were practically a blubbering mess — face pressed against the door and hands trying to cling on to the flat surface as a string of incoherent moans and words left your mouth.

"Alexia, please." You felt like you were going to collapse any moment soon, struggling to keep your clammy hands from slipping off of the door.

Alexia slammed her dick into you a couple times more before saying, "Cum."

You almost shouted in pleasure as you felt the orgasm ripple through your body, making your legs feel like jelly. You felt the warmth spread through you as you exclaimed her name another time as Alexia thrust a few more times to ride out her own orgasm.

You wanted to fall on the floor and just lay there but Alexia's grip on your hips remained firm that it was almost impossible for you to fall over. She put you upright again, one hand firmly on your hips and the other cupping your chest as she helped you up. She gently guided you back to bed.

You laid on your back, out of breathe as she crawled on top of you. "No one makes you cum right?" She teased.

You rolled your eyes to playfully smack her but she caught your hand smoothly and put it above your head. "I'm not done with you." Her serious face was back.

Your eyes widened. You felt like your body would give up on you if you werefucked again but that didn't seem to stop Alexia.

Her hand found its way to your cunt. You felt her thumb and index finger gently fiddle with your clit before pressing roughly, then pinching it.

"Alexia!" You yelped, instinctively pushing on her shoulders a bit

She let go of your clit and began roughly rubbing instead. You put your arms around her shoulders, holding her closer as she rubbed your core. She moved closer to yoy before kissing and sucking on your neck, leaving more bruises for you to worry about the next morning.

"Oh, Ale, that feels so good." You said in a hum of pleasure as your eyes fluttered shut.

Alexia managed to push the hood off of your clit and began gently rubbing and flicking against the tiny, sensitive part of it, overstimulating you. You moaned out again and tightened your hold of her.

"Who makes you cum?" She asked in your ear.

"You."

"Say my name." She ordered before sinking her teeth on your collarbone and sinking her two fingers back into your vagina.

You gasped before you shouted. "Alexia! Alexia! It's you, Alexia!"

She continued to kiss your neck as she fucked you with her fingers and rubbed your clit with her thumb.

"Alexia, I'm close! I'm so close!" You moaned out as she pumped in and out. "Alexia! Please!"

"Cum for me, cariño." She whispered so gently and as she did, you shouted out her name as you held on to her, experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life.

She chuckled. "Hmm, I don't think you've squirted this much before."

Yoy blinked a bit before sitting up to see that Lucy's bed was completely drenched. You felt your face become red as you realized the mess you two have made.

Alexia was smiling, satisfied at her work. You pouted your lips as you looked at her. "Baby, can I have kisses now?"

She leaned close to your face again. "Only if my princess promises she's going to be a good girl from now on."

"Yes, Alexia." You said, pouting your lips as you looked into your eyes. You gave her an irresistible wide-eyed innocent look — the kind you knew she could never resist.

She smirked before she leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss. You grabbed on to the back of her neck to deepen the kiss but just a while after, she pulled away. "Why don't I take you back to my place and then you can let my neighbors hearyour pretty little moans too?"

You chuckled. "Okay, Alexia."

You got up from the bed, and got dressed with Alexia. She apologized for ruining your dress but she didn't really look sorry for it. She actually looked proud and smug. You straightened up your appearance as much as you could before Alexia and you stepped out of the room.

To your shock, a few people from the group earlier were hovering near the bedroom door with mixed expressions of horror and amusement. They tried to not make it obvious that they heard you get absolutely wrecked by Alexia.

“Damn,” Patri shook her head as she turned to Mapi. “I want whatever those two are having.”

a/n: i barely edited this and proofread it once. i might have fucked up with some pronouns and would appreciate if anyone dms me to correct hehe. anyway, i hope you guys liked it esp since this is more intense and rougher than everything i’ve ever written before. tags: @micaluvssoccer @buzzinrusso @hermen0404 @mrcat77 @oh-thats-cute @iamagoddess1 @noone-find-me @zairaaaa @vlt4845 @oakwave @sam23114 @louxbloom @ppx004 @serynsworld @oohtobeagooner @daylightisa @xxforeverinadayxx @itsandreaca @liagracexx @julesthegreatsimp p @mysticfalls01 @maddiewrites11 @besitosakusa @alexiputellas-protector @wosoloverthings @alexiaswiftie @katycat0811 @femmefataledotcom @footygirl114 @baddestbittyontheblock @wosolipa @mpileons @girlmineis @a-pute11as @hella-hecka-gay @alexiaputellasera a + more but i couldnt tag u all aaa

[cyber333angel]

SEVIKA X CAMGIRL!READER !!

finally convincing your girlfriend to join you on your stream you realize later on how much of a mistake that was..

a/n — i didn’t like how this turned out but enjoy ☺️ it has usage of strap on, overstimulation, and kind of in public because your being recorded

three times a week you stream videos for your viewers in the office of the apartment you and sevika share, wearing the most gorgeous and revealing lingerie as always. just a one hour show gaining you about 200 bucks to just do stuff you and your girlfriend do every night for some randos. when you started dating her you had only just started to test the waters of cam shows and hadn’t gone all in yet, so when you told her about your recent hobby she was surprisingly not against it at all. in fact it’s how the two of you started to explore your sexual relationship with each other, trying out stuff you never thought you would do, but being comfortable with anyway because it was just the two of you. eventually you grew into the routine of your streams and wanted sevika to join you, always whining and pouting about wanting her to play with you but she would always decline, saying it was a nuisance.

however when you asked her to at least watch you she said yes, the show lasting a whopping 20 minutes before she told you to turn it off just so she could have her way with you, messing up all your pretty clothes and leaving you with tears in your eyes. you told sevika how you really wanted her to join you, pleading and letting her do anything she wanted to just so that she would agree. and she actually gave in after a couple of weeks of begging as she usually does because she could never resist when it comes to you, talking over it with her and making sure she 100% was okay with it. the two of you decided to do it next week when she came home from work and you would have a new set of lingerie coming in from the mail, courtesy of sevika as per usual!

when the day came you were nervous for some reason when you were putting together your set up, this routine had became normal to you but now that your girlfriend was joining you - your nerves were on 10. and it wasn’t a bad nervous feeling, no you just know what things people suggest to you in your chatbox and you just know how it might make your girlfriend a bit dramatic and jealous. you hear the front door close and your stream is about to start in 15 minutes, giving you enough time to gather yourself. walking out of the office you greet your girlfriend with open arms to give her a hug, “hi baby.” sevika says, kissing your forehead as the two of you rock together side to side at the doorway. “missed you sevi” nodding into her chest you feel a wave of relief rushing through you when your in her arms and all your nerves come down as you take in her scent.

you guys get started in the room, the stream starting as soon as you hit the red button, you look to sevika to see her leaning back on the desk, watching you set up. “go on.” she mouths to you as she puts out the cigarette she had, taking a gulp you turn on your camera to face you, your viewers flooding in going from 10 to 100 in mere minutes.

you greet them as you always do, of course added with the introduction of your special guest. “on tonights show we do have a special guest so get ready..” turning around you motion for sevika to come closer, walking up to the camera with that sway in her hips as she arrives on the screen.

telling your audience all about your girlfriend and what to expect for the stream, “don’t forget to hit the like button and enjoy the show!” you say as you look back to sevika, seeing her sat in the chair of the vanity that your camera is placed on as she watches you, “c’mere and sit down.” she says and you immediately walk to her with a smile, climbing onto her lap. making yourself comfortable while you hold her face seeing how cute she looks looking up at you, examining your face as she always does until you lower your lips to hers, kissing her so deeply and passionately. your girlfriend raises her arms to your ass as she breaths into the kiss, its always crazy how just a quick make out session could make you soaked and needy for her. and in this moment is when sevika realizes why she declined so many times when you asked her to join the stream, it was just the thoughtless “no.” each time but now she knew why.

she didn’t want to share this side of you with anyone, she didn’t want everyone to see how dumb she would make you by only shoving her tongue down your throat. the pathetic pretty sight of you that only she could make you experience was only for her eyes, deciding to make this quick even if it would end with tears. sevika still had her hands gripping the globes of your ass tightly as the puddle in your panties kept getting damper, moans coming from you as you moved on to your girlfriends neck. sucking and making bite marks all over her while sevika looked at the chatbox, people commenting “that’s so hot..” and other lustful thoughts while they watched you did much more than tick sevika off, making her scrunch her face in annoyance. sevika switches back to you taking your jaw in her hands gently, “lets go to the bed yeah?” making you nod your head while you get up from her lap to prop the camera next to the bed. crawling onto the comforter you face sevika at the end of it, lifting your chin up for a kiss as she slides down her boxers to reveal her strap underneath. it was a black dildo that was about 7 inches long with some girth around it, it was always a struggle to take all of it but sevika makes sure all of it fits every time. “get it nice and wet for me like you always do baby” following you with her eyes as you lower your head down, taking the silicon in your hands as you put it to your mouth giving it kisses at the tip.

taking the whole thing into your mouth stretches your jaw open, sevika bucking her hips forward a bit to force it down your throat a bit more, it makes you gag. gripping at your girlfriends thighs as you suck her dick, tears already trickling from your eyes when the rubber reaches as far as it can in your mouth, taking a bit more than half of it. “there you go baby, just like that.. my pretty girl.” that last part is said while she holds your jaw up to face her, your mouth still filled with her dick inside as she slides it out. by this point you have already long forgotten about your stream, which had previously never ever happened to you before, you were always in control when it came to your streams but sevikas presence in itself is enough to cloud your judgement.

that’s how you know end up laying on your back as you grip and pull at the sheets your currently laying on, with sevikas dick pushing deeper and deeper into your cunt. moans overflowing from your mouth as your stomach tenses,your hips rocking back and forth with your girlfriends large hands holding them harshly. your in missionary position and your lingerie is long gone— facing her but avoiding her piercing eyes by squeezing them shut, a series of pleads coming from your mouth. “hngh vika s’too much!” her name falling out your mouth so easily brings a smile to sevikas face every time face. “such a fucking crybaby, relax..” you don’t know how she can tell you to relax when she’s thrusting into you so hard, hitting that same spot repeatedly that she knows makes you go crazy. moving her hand from your hips sevika brings her fingers to your neglected clit, circling the bud crudely when your hands fly to your mouth.

it’s way too much for you and sevika knows that but it’s what makes it all the more fun for her to watch, seeing you struggle and cry because of her hands on you like this. “don’t cover your mouth, let em hear you c’mon” she says pulling your hands from your mouth, tears welling from your eyes as she holds your hands to her stomach with one hand. “know how much i like to hear that pretty voice..” still rubbing at your bud you feel yourself cumming, your face scrunching up and your chest heaving up and down. “m’cumming sev please..” pleading for her to help you get there, sevika rocks into you deeper as your hips flow together. your so soaked that your cunt can be heard loud and clear on the camera, a harsh plap-plap-plap echoing in the room even though the camera is more than a few feet away from the bed, you can’t even imagine what the people in the chat are saying and you honestly couldn’t care at the moment.

you are too focused on how good sevikas making you feel and it almost makes you forget how to breathe but sevika can just tell how close you were. “yeah you gonna cum for us sweet girl? you love it when im deep inside you like this huh..” she says looking at the camera, turning back to see you nodding your head as your eyes go half lidded, feeling the coil in your stomach snapping with the help of sevikas words. legs quivering on her shoulders you coat the black silicon in your slick, a white ring covering the base. you twitch as your back arches off the bed, sevika watching you with praiseful eyes, if she wasn’t so focused on getting her baby to cum she probably would have came herself.

but she’s “kind” enough to let you catch your breath for a couple of seconds before sliding her dick out of your messy pussy, a uttering cry pulled from your throat as you instinctively close your legs from the loss. she pulls your legs to the edge of the bed as she kneels down on the floor, “open your legs.” is said with a impatient tone, waiting for you to defer to what she told you. “mm sevi I can’t! already came just now, I need a break..” instantly feeling your cheeks get hotter as you watch sevikas face, a stare you don’t get too often but when you do, you know that your doing something your not supposed to be doing. “you know im not gonna repeat myself baby..” a quiet whimper coming from you as you do as your told, shyly opening your legs for your girlfriend. she holds your thighs down to your stomach, they already ache and she hadn’t even begun to torture you yet.

lowering her head down, sevika laps at your soaked cunt, slurping and licking up stripes to your clit. you can’t even attempt to keep your moans to yourself, gripping at the sheets below you as you cry’s fill the room, your babbling to her about how it’s too much while your legs quiver and hesitate to close on sevikas head. “so fucking wet..this is all for me huh baby?” she says as she thrust her fingers into your hole, already soaked from the strap that was deep inside you just moments ago. leaving you panting as she holds your thighs down to the bed, licking up all your slick as if she hadn’t eaten for days, the sight alone was more than enough to make you overwhelmed as you feel yourself cumming again. “vika, vika sevika- please m’cumming again!” you hiccup, gripping at the dark brunettes hair, uncontrollably grinding your messy cunt against sevikas face trying to chase that sweet relief. she rolls her tongue against your clit while leaving trails of praise every time she comes up to kiss at your thigh or look at you, with her focus fixated completely on you as your legs shake around her head, squeezing your teary eyes shut with a cry. “taste so sweet..” is whispered as sevika gets up from in between your legs to give you a kiss on your forehead, “did so good for me baby.” you hear from her, walking over to your camera set up. in the midst of all this you completely forgot you were even filming, your head way up in the clouds of pleasure and you were completely embarrassed. you watch as she grumbles to the camera and signs off of it, walking back to you with a smile. sitting on the edge of the bed with her hand cupping your face while her thumb rubs across the soft flesh of your cheek, “do you usually make 1k everytime you stream? I didn’t know I was missing out on miss celebrity over here.” she says with a chuckle and your just laying there with shocked eyes, you never made that amount of money before for a show, in fact you just barely started to make 200. “and I love you baby but im never doing this again.” your girlfriend says with her stern tone as usual ending with a kiss on your forehead, nodding to her, you knew you were definitely gonna make her do this again.

[gravegoer]

Sevika is on the council now, GO.

Council member Sevika

thank you for this ask ive been WAITING for this !!! i love council member sevika (the only council member with a lip piercing)

masterlist (comment to be on my taglist)

You fought in that war with Sevika. You had her back, and she had yours.

At the end of that day, you went home together, injured, and exhausted.

The war had ended, but at the cost of so many losses. Peace was finally in sight.

Until enforcers knocked at your door. Sevika snapped at them, telling them to "Fuck off." But they had to be here for a good reason, right? Right.

Sevika was an important figure to Zaun. People believed in her. She is loyal to all Zaunites. that's a trait not many people have. So, of course, the council wanted her. The enforcers were there to deliver that important message

She growled at them, telling them to leave. You knew she needed time to think, even though in the back of your mind, you already knew what her decision was.

You waited an hour or so for her in bed, hearing her grunts of frustration and her pacing around the living room.

It pained you to not go comfort her but you knew this was a decision she needed to make on her own.

Sevika entered the room with a determined expression. She kneeled at your bedside and put a larger hand on yours.

"I know this is going to be a change, and you might be upset but—"

"Im so proud of you, Sevika." Your eyes glimmered with hope.

Her brows furrow at your words, and you reach up to rub the crease from her expression. "You've made it so far. You're going to do so well." She is the voice of Zaun and speaks for you all.

You know there couldn't be a better person for that position. With Sevikas loyalty, she would never make a move to put the undercity in jeopardy.

Her eyes soften at your encouragement. It's all so new to her. She knew it was going to be a hard start, but not as hard knowing you had her back. You would always be there with open arms at the end of the day.

At that thought, you hold her warm face between your hands, and she closes her eyes at your touch. She's exhausted but still relents. That's one of the things you admired about her.

That night, you held her head to your chest, comfortingly. She deserved no less. Your fingers raked through her hair gently. Her heavy arm was draped over your waist softly, and your sweet voice lulled her to sleep. There was a long day ahead of her.

In the morning, she was more affectionate than usual, kissing your forehead before she got dressed. (And then again after). Laying her head on your shoulder as you finished up your breakfast. Hugging you from behind tightly while you brushed your teeth.

She was nervous, and this was the first time you saw her this way. Albeit not the last. But it was weird seeing Sevika, who was oh-so-big-and-strong get worked up over this.

People eyed you both on your walk there. She didn't make eyecontact with anybody and stared straight ahead with a firm look. Unlike her, you waved and smiled at some curious people, holding onto Sevikas arm.

When you got to the most important building in Piltover, she insisted that you walk her into the council meeting room. At first, you refused, but at her defeated and almost scattered look, you relented.

Even though you knew it would be hard to see with the topsiders, you knew it was for the best. The council members eyed you as you stood in the doorway with Sevika. You gave her an encouraging look, and she put a hand on your shoulder, lovingly, before stepping past you.

Taking a step back, the doors shut, and you waited for her on the other side.

Sevika was a part of the worlds new beginnings. Even though she held an important role amongst the people, she could argue that your role was more important.

You kept her sane through it all.

i absofreakinglutey love council member sevika in all her 5 second screentime glory !! and i will definitely be writing for her so look out for that in the future..

[aplaceinme]

“I’m just saying… there’s a reason why people say ‘three times it’s a charm’ Evan.”

“And I’m just saying I don’t want to risk it, Tommy,” Evan huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“C’mon, what could possibly happen?” Tommy insists. 

“Hmmm…let me think… oh, yeah, I got it! Given our track record, we break up for good,” Evan says exasperated. 

“That won’t happen again, Evan. We’ve talked things out. Everything has been laid out on the table. We are better than ever,” Tommy says softly, walking up to Evan and tenderly cupping his cheeks, “We are good! Nothing bad will happen, I promise.” 

Evan tries to resist, his pout really pronounced but he can’t fight the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Fine! Fine! We will go and have dinner at Miceli’s again,” Evan relents, throwing his arms up in the air. “But if things go south again, it will be all your fault, ok?” 

Tommy leans in and kisses him softly, letting the kiss linger a little. “Ok, if something happens, it will be my fault.”

Evan goes to his bedroom to change his clothes, all the while angrily muttering, “Thousand of places in L.A. to go but no! We have to go back to that place… all because the pizza is good… fuck that place.”

“Did you say something?” Tommy asks, trying not to laugh at Evan’s adorableness. 

“Nothing… except… We are not getting spumoni, Tommy!” Evan yells from his bedroom.

Head thrown back in laughter, Tommy sits down in one of the barstools to wait for him to be finished. “Fine but, again, everything will be alright, love.”

“Yeah, yeah, you keep saying that! But you know what else people say? Famous last words! That’s what they say,” Evan says before closing the bathroom room. 

Nodding, Tommy quietly says under his breath as if trying to convince himself, “It will be alright.” 

—

“Will you stop muttering? We are here, and everything has been ok so far, right?” 

“Yeah, so far,” Evan says stubbornly. At Tommy’s raised eyebrow, his shoulders relax. “Sorry, sorry. You’re right! Everything is fine. We are together and everything is fine.”

Tommy holds Evan’s hand across the table and intertwines their fingers. “Exactly.” 

“I’m just glad we aren’t going to the movies after this. I think they also bring bad luck to us,” Evan teases, though he also seems to be serious. 

Wanting to tease him back, Tommy says, “Actually, I saw that they are playing this movie that I wanted to check out…”

“Do not even think about it! Not tonight at least,” Evan points at Tommy seriously. 

“Alright, alright, no movies tonight,” Tommy laughs. “We will just go straight to my place then… find something else to entertain us with.” 

“I’m sure we will,” Evan says with a smirk. 

“Oh my God! I think he’s choking! Somebody help us!” 

Tommy and Evan look over at the table from where the scream came and, after sharing a small glance and a nod, they get up and run over. 

“Move over, make room, make room, we are firefighters,” Evan says loudly, reaching the patient first. 

As Evan starts doing the Heimlich maneuver, Tommy reassures the family and makes sure they give Evan room to work. 

After a couple of agonizing seconds, the man spits out the food and everyone at the restaurant releases a breath of relief and they start to clap.  

Tommy moves over and helps Evan to sit the man down as they start to assess him, asking him if he is feeling alright or if he would rather they call an ambulance. 

Once the man reassures them that he is ok and thanks Evan profusely, they start to walk back to their table. 

“Glad that turned out o-” Evan starts to say but a scream interrupts him. 

“What now?” Tommy asks. 

“Fire in the kitchen!” Someone screams. 

It takes two seconds for chaos to reign. People start to scream and run desperately, pushing tables, chairs, and everything out of their way. 

While Evan calls 911 and starts helping people out of the restaurant, Tommy runs up to the kitchen.

Grabbing a fire extinguisher, Tommy tries to put the fire out, but it’s not enough. The fire is spreading fast, so he just makes sure that no one else is inside the kitchen and then runs outside. 

“Tommy, Tommy,” Evan calls to him and hugs him as soon as he is within reach. 

“Everyone out?” Tommy asks him, quickly looking Evan over to make sure he isn’t hurt. 

“Yeah, I got everyone out and the firefighters should be here any minute now.” 

“Good, good, that’s good!” Tommy says in relief, his adrenaline starting to recede. 

—

Tommy and Evan are standing a few meters away from the restaurant, watching as station 56 put the fire out. The fire spread out so much that the restaurant is absolutely destroyed, Tommy doubts the owners could salvage anything from inside. 

“What is it? I can see you looking at me,” Tommy asks, turning to look at Evan. 

Evan gestures wildly at the restaurant and looks at him incredulously. 

“What?” Tommy plays dumb. 

“What? What?” Evan yelps. “Oh, I don’t know… maybe the fact that the restaurant is literally destroyed. Third’s time a charm, my ass!” 

“Technically, I was right, Evan.” 

“Wha- How?” Evan sputters. 

“Well, nothing bad happened to us. We are ok, there hasn’t been any misunderstanding, no one has confessed anything from their past… we are ok, just like I said we will be,” Tommy reasons.

Evan shakes his head and chuckles, “I can’t believe you! You’re so…” 

“Evan…” Tommy starts but gets interrupted. 

“I love you,” Evan says. 

Tommy does a double take, not expecting that. “What?”

“I love you,” Evan repeats, shrugging his shoulders. 

“This is the first time you’re saying that,” Tommy says, bewildered. 

“I know.” 

“I… I- I…” Tommy looks around them, in disbelief that Evan could love him. 

“You don’t have to say it if you do-”

“I love you too. Of course, I love you,” Tommy tells him quickly, not wanting Evan to doubt it for even one second. 

“Yeah?” Evan beams at him. 

“Yes,” Tommy nods and leans in to kiss him, not caring about the fire, firefighters, bystanders, or anything else. 

Once they part for air, Tommy asks him, “Should we get going? They seem to have everything under control.” 

Evan nods, and they slowly start to walk to where Tommy had parked his truck, with Tommy’s arm around Evan’s waist. 

“Since no one got hurt, I feel ok with admitting that I’m kinda happy that the restaurant went up in flames,” Evan whispers as if it is a secret. 

Tommy chuckles, “Yeah, me too.” 

When they are near the truck, Tommy jokes, “So, what about that movie then?” 

Evan playfully hits him on the shoulder but laughs. “I believe someone said something about finding something to entertained us with at their place?”

“Let’s go then,” Tommy says with a smirk, walking faster towards his truck. 

[blond3ang3l]

Nightwing is the type to say “that’s my best friend” and then proceeds to make out with you when no one’s looking.

———————————————————————

Now you had known him your entire life. You two went to school together, you knew about him being night wing, you met all million siblings he had, and even the big guy himself Bruce Wayne. You’ve had boyfriends and girlfriends before but it never worked out in the end. Same thing with Dick, no matter what they always broke things off. For the most part they just couldn’t handle his family life like you could. With you knowing his siblings basically since they were born they liked (or in Damian’s case tolerated) you a whole lot. Hell even his stepmom Selina loved you in the short time her and Bruce been together. Everyone else he brought him got weird stares or snickers from his younger brothers. You on the other hand would go to the batcave even without him just to see the rest of them.

You’d accompany him to galas so you two were also seen out in public together many times. The media loved seeing you two together. He introduced you to reporters as “his moon” because the first time you guys met was during a full moon. In reality the only reason you guys weren’t dating yet was because he couldn’t figure out how to ask you. He wasn’t worried about you saying no, he was worried about doing something big enough to your liking and it was taking him months to plan out.

Yet when you two were alone it felt different, more intimate. Just like now as you two were in his bed. He had you on top of his lap, his hands gripping your ass while to two of you kissed. This wasn’t the first time and it damn wouldn’t be the last. He had been gone for three long weeks and damn did he miss you. He texted you but his text was always cut short with him having to fight yet another criminal. Every day spent away from you was pure hell for him, and he made sure you knew that with the picture of his hard leaking dick he sent you just a few days prior. He was painfully hard, his dick so pretty leaking with precum, and in his words “all for you”.

With you perched up in his lap the way you were he was starting to feel the exact same way he did in that picture. His hands moved from your ass to hold your hip, rocking you along his bulge causing you to moan softly. His lips attacked your neck. A trail of dark hickeys going down your chest as he started to slide down the thin pajama shorts you wore.

“Fuck, I missed you baby. Can I show you how much? Let me baby. Please.”

[littlespoonevan]

your hand in my pocket to keep us both warm

post 8x08 because i'm SAD in a way that can only be eased with buddie hurt/comfort 💔 title from abstract (psychopomp) by hozier

-

Buck is the one to drive him to the airport because who else would it be?

It feels a lot like deja vu as he approaches the glass doors of Departures but his step only falters for a moment before Eddie’s hand is catching his sleeve at the elbow and leading him through them. It’s further than Abby ever let him get.

Eddie lets him go as far the security line and he almost looks regretful when he turns to face Buck.

Buck would like to think he’s handled this well so far. He’s been supportive, helped Eddie choose his new home, listened to his fears about his parents, reassured him about Christopher, promised to oversee the shipping of the rest of Eddie’s stuff next week. He’s done everything right.

It hasn’t made any of this feel less wrong.

They look at each other now, awkward in a way they never are, until Eddie drops his bag and pulls him into a hug without saying anything.

Maybe because there’s nothing to say. Buck’s heart has been lodged in his throat since he parked the car; he’s not even sure he could say anything if he wanted to.

Eddie’s arms around him are a familiar weight though so Buck allows himself to sink into them. To tuck his chin into the crook of Eddie’s shoulder and to fist his hands in the back of his jacket like if he holds on tight enough he might be able to convince Eddie to stay.

When Eddie does pull back he makes no attempt to leave the circle of Buck’s arms. Instead one of his hands goes to that same spot at the juncture of Buck’s neck – always the same spot – and when his thumb makes contact with the divot in Buck’s throat he seeks out Buck’s gaze.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Buck croaks, the tell-tale burn behind his eyes becoming more pronounced by the second.

“Like I’m Abby,” Eddie sighs. “Or Ali. Or Tommy. I’m not leaving you, Buck.”

Buck tries to laugh but it comes out too hysterical and Eddie’s hand tightens on his neck.

“I’m leaving,” he allows. “But I’m not leaving you.”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you,” Buck says, the words wobbling in the middle. His hands are still twisted in Eddie’s jacket.

“And you think I do?” Eddie asks with a half-laugh. “Who am I gonna talk to when my folks are driving me crazy? Who am I gonna talk to when I do anything? Besides, you think Chris will accept you not visiting at least once a month?”

Truthfully, Buck has no idea what Chris wants right now but he clings to Eddie’s words anyway.

“Everyone at work is gonna find me insufferable. It was bad enough that last time you weren’t there.”

Eddie laughs again, thumb brushing Buck’s neck seemingly absentmindedly. “No they won’t. And I’ll be on Facetime so much it’ll be like I never left.”

Buck ducks his head but nods anyway, gathering up the courage to say what he wants to say next. “I know you have to go,” he starts, steeling himself as he makes himself meet Eddie’s gaze. “But please don’t go forever.”

Eddie’s expression blanks, his mouth parting over nothing. Buck can only stare back, hoping that just this once it might be different. That he won’t get a, ‘Take care of yourself, Buck,’ and a hand to the cheek before the person in front of him disappears forever.

Eddie doesn’t touch his cheek. Instead he presses their foreheads together hard enough to hurt, hard enough to make Buck’s breath catch and rush out of him on a shaky exhale.

“I won’t. I promise,” Eddie breathes and his hand moves from Buck’s neck to the back of Buck’s head and Buck can’t help wondering for a moment what would happen if he closed the distance between them. If Eddie would kiss him back.

It’s not a thought he’s ever entertained before but he’s thinking it now and it feels…like it makes sense. Like an inevitability.

And what a time to have a realisation like that.

Eddie leans back then and Buck forces himself to unclench his hands, attempting to smooth out the back of Eddie’s jacket with trembling hands.

“You should go,” he says because Eddie won’t.

Eddie nods faintly in agreement and it looks like it takes every ounce of effort for him to take a step back. Buck picks up his bag for him, offers it to him, and tries for a weak smile so Eddie will know it’s okay. That he can go and Buck won’t cause a scene.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get to my parents place.”

Buck nods. “Give Chris a hug for me.”

“I will.”

Eddie starts looking towards the security line again and Buck blurts out, “Tell him I love him.”

Eddie looks back to him, a devastating smile of understanding on his face. “He knows already. But I will.”

Buck nods again and then there’s nothing left to say. Eddie turns to go and Buck does the same because he can’t watch until he’s out of sight. It hurts too much already and he can barely hold his tears back as it is.

He doesn’t need to watch himself get left behind again.

~

He’s just unlocking his car when his phone rings. He doesn’t check who it is as he climbs in, just shoves the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he reaches for his seatbelt.

“Keep me company while I wait for my flight?”

He straightens so quickly the phone almost falls into his lap but he catches it just in time. And he tries to laugh but he thinks it might come out more like a sob. “Keep me company on the drive home?”

“Always,” Eddie says like they’re driving home from work after a long shift.

Buck switches his phone to speaker mode and looks down at the keys in his hand, at the keys to the loft, Maddie’s place and Eddie’s house respectively, considering his options before turning on the ignition.

“So there’s the guy at the gate-“ Eddie starts and Buck lets the sound of his voice wash over him. Allows himself just one singular moment where he closes his eyes and holds his hand to his chest before he pulls himself together and drives out of his space.

Eddie is offering him a play by play of the guy at the gate who’s insisting his luggage is not chirping and Buck gets his breath back enough to make a quip about how that made it through the security scanner.

When he reaches the freeway it takes hardly any thought at all for him to take the exit that’ll get him to the Diaz house fastest.

He’s going home after all.

~

[classyrbf]

PLEASE MAKE A INO SMUT IM BEGGING AND PLEADING 😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

MUNCH! — INO TAKUMA

ino is the biggest munch known to man. That boy loves eating pussy. He lives and breathes pussy. One taste of your cunt and his mind is spiraling. He’ll eat pussy anywhere if he could. No lie. He’s one to push your legs all the way up to your chest, practically making out with your cunt, moaning and groaning af your taste because he loves it so bad. And it’s not just about eating pussy either, but it’s also about the way you react. He loves when you start breathing heavily, whimpering his name, lips quivering with each cry as your body shakes from an orgasm. And no, he doesn’t stop after you cum because he’s doing this for his pleasure too. He’s licking up every last drop, savoring it on his tongue. You’re pulling at his hair, trying to move his mouth so it wouldn’t feel as good, but nothing works. He’s slurps and sucks on your clit, watching the way your head falls back onto the pillows when he slips a finger inside and starts massaging your g-spot. “Come on, baby, just one more orgasm for me. Pretty please?” He begs with glossy eyes, so drunk on your taste, your juices coating his pink lips. And who are you to deny him what he loves so much? Because you love it too. He loves to eat it from the back as well, using his tongue to run up and down your slit and through your sloppy folds. “You taste so good, I’ll never get tired of eating this pussy,” he mumbles, diving right back in between your legs. Ino is big on giving in the bedroom that sometimes he doesn’t even care about receiving. Nothing sexual will be happening but all that’s on his mind is eating your pussy and then moving onto the next task of the day. “Pretty, can I eat you out really quick before we leave?” He kisses your neck, sliding his hands up your dress and next thing you know he has you on the couch with your legs in the air, cumming on his tongue for second time in a span of only 6 minutes because he’s just that damn good.

[chancloud8]

Teach Me

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 2,4k

Tags: A little bit of angst, Fluff, Kissing, OT8

Summary: After a failed date you find comfort with your best friend. He even offers to teach you how to kiss. Crazy, right?

*****************************

'Channie?' you call out when you step into the recording studio.

It was already close to midnight, but you know for a fact that your best friend is still here. He always stays late to work on his songs, either alone or sometimes with Jisung or Changbin.

'In here!' Chan's familiar voice calls back and relief floods your body at the sound of it.

You wipe your cheeks one last time with the back of your hands and take a deep breath before forcing yourself to smile.

'Bestie incoming,' you sing song as you walk the narrow hallway towards the room where his voice came from.

As soon as you walk through the door you freeze.

It wasn't just Chan inside. All the other members of his band are scattered across the couch and floor. Multiple take-out boxes and containers cover the small table and the smell of pizza and chinese food hits your nose.

Eight pairs of eyes are staring at you and it takes a few seconds before any of them react. Chan is the first one to jump up, his brows are furrowed as he takes in the state you're in.

You know you must look like a mess. Your hair is loose and wild from how you've kept running your hand through it, you know your make-up is smeared and your eyes are red from crying. You keep the smile on your face, hoping to fool your friends, but the moment he takes a step forward you know you haven't.

'You cried. What happened?' Chan asks when he's in front of you, softly grabbing your chin between his fingers so you have to look at him.

'Who do we need to hurt?' Changbin yells as he also jumps up from the couch to get closer to you as well.

You flinch at his loud voice and Chan turns his head to glare at his friend.

'No one, Binnie. I'm fine,' you say, but you know your smile is faltering.

'You're not,' Felix's deep voice says from behind Chan. You hadn't even noticed him getting up too. 'Who did this?'

You shake your head at him. 'It's nothing, don't worry about it.'

Telling Chan what happened was one thing, but telling all of them?

Nope.

You couldn't do it. It would be too mortifying.

'Come sit with us,' Chan says, letting go of your chin so he can grab your hand and lead you towards the couch where Jeongin, Seungmin and Jisung quickly make room for you.

As soon as you sit down, Seungmin shrugs off his jacket and hangs it around your naked shoulders. You shiver as the fabric touches your skin, it's warm and soft and you hadn't realized how cold you were.

'Where's your jacket?' Chan asks, as if he only just noticed you weren't wearing any while it's no longer hot outside at night.

The guys are all quiet, waiting for you to answer the question.

'I- uhm,' you swallow. 'I forgot it.'

'You forgot your jacket?' Chan narrows his eyes, seeing straight through your bullshit. 'You never go anywhere without--'

'I forgot! I was in a hurry to get away, okay,' you interrupt him, tears welling up in your eyes again as you think of the horrifying moment.

As one all of the guys lean forward, frowns adorn their faces.

'Get away from who?' Chan and Changbin growl practically at the same time.

'Y/N,' Felix gets up from his seat 'Are you hurt?'

'No, no,' you hurry to say. 'I'm okay, I promise. I'm just--' You groan and bury your face in your hands so you don't have to look at their faces. 'I'm extremely embarrassed and maybe a bit upset, but I'm fine.'

When they stay silent, you sigh and lift your head to look them all in the eye.

'I'm fine.'

They don't seem convinced and you can't really blame them.

'Look, I didn't expect you all to be here or I wouldn't have come. I'll just go home, bury myself in blankets and sleep,' you say, starting to get up.

Seungmin grabs your arm and pulls you back on the couch.

'No way we're letting you go when you're feeling down. You shouldn't be alone,' he says and the other guys all nod in agreement.

'And if you want to talk to Channie alone, we can leave you alone for a bit,' Jeongin offers, giving you an encouraging smile.

Your heart swells with how thoughtful they all are and you instantly feel a little better. You always knew they were good guys, but after tonight it was nice to get a reminder that thoughtful and kind guys still exist.

'But if you want you can talk to us too, we won't judge you, I promise,' Lee Know says from his spot on the floor.

'Or if you just want to eat or help us out with making music, that's fine too,' Hyunjin adds with a smile.

'We can also still beat up whoever made you cry,' Jisung swings his fist around in the air.

You can't help but tear up again.

'Y/N?' Chan moves over to you again and kneels down in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. 'You're not alone, you're okay and we're all here for you.'

That does it.

A sob escapes your mouth and you throw your arms around his neck, not caring about the guys seeing you cry anymore.

Chan immediately wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his body. Like a koala you wrap yourself around him and you bury your face in his neck, letting his familiar scent calm you down.

'It's okay, you're okay,' Chan continues to whisper as he strokes your back. 'I'm here.'

It takes a few minutes for you to calm down, but when you do, you feel a lot better. You allow yourself a few more moments, keeping your head in the crook of Chan's neck as you slowly get a grip of yourself again.

'I'm sorry,' you whisper.

'What for?' Chan whispers back.

You know that everyone can probably still hear you, but it still feels like it's just Chan and you. In some way the guys are a part of Chan anyways.

'For crying and for ruining your night.'

Chan's hands move up to your arms and he gently pushes you away from his chest so he can look at you.

'You could never ruin my night, Y/N, and as for the crying, isn't that what a best friend is for?'

Your lips curl up in a watery smile and you bring your hand up to pat his cheek.

'My sweet Channie.'

He chuckles and squeezes your arms. 'That's me. Now will you please tell your sweet Channie what happened tonight?'

Your smile disappears and immediately so does Chan's.

'What happened?' he repeats, his eyes dark.

'I just went on a shitty date,' you finally confess. 'He was very nice at first, but-'

'I swear if he hurt you,' Chan growls and from the corner of your eyes you see two other members get up as well.

'Stop being so macho,' you roll your eyes. 'I appreciate your concern babe, but I'm okay and he didn't hurt me.'

Chan narrows his eyes at you and cocks his head. 'Then what did he do, Y/N?'

'Did he force you to do anything you didn't want?' Changbin asks, sitting down next to you and Chan.

You wait a second too long with denying it and both men tense up.

'No, no! It's not like that,' you hurry to say. 'He just-' You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes. 'He laughed at me.'

Chan blinks at you and so does Changbin.

'What for?' Lee Know pipes up from behind you.

'Did he just laugh or did he say stuff as well?' Hyunjin asks from the couch.

You sigh and bite your lip, debating whether or not to just blurt it out. It all seemed so silly now.

'Y/N?' Chan asks again.

'He kissed me and I didn't expect it,' you say, closing your eyes in mortification. 'I froze at first and when he-' you shiver and Chan balls his hands up in fists.

'He what?' Felix asks softly.

'God this is so embarrassing you guys, you're going to laugh at me too,' you groan, letting your head fall against Chan's chest again.

'We won't,' Jeongin promises and the others hum in agreement.

'I freaked out,' you mumble. 'And when he put his tongue in my mouth, I may have gagged and started hyperventilating.'

The guys are quiet around you and for a moment you wonder if they heard you. Just as you lift your head from Chan's chest, they all start to talk at once. They don't laugh. All their faces are serious as they try to talk over each other. All except Chan.

'What?' you whisper at him when his eyes stay locked with yours.

‘I had no idea you’ve never been kissed before,’ he says, his eyes falling to your lips for a millisecond. ‘And I’m sorry your first experience with it was awful.’

You shrug and snort when a thought enters your mind. ‘If only you could teach me how to properly kiss so I don’t freak out next time,’ you joke.

Everyone falls quiet and Chan’s eyes darken before he looks down at your lips again. His tongue comes out to moisten his lips and your heart skips a bit at the sight. Shit, he had no right to look at you like that.

‘I’m only joking,’ you choke out, breaking the silence and shifting awkwardly in Chan’s lap.

Chan’s hands fall down to your hips and he holds you still.

‘I could, you know,’ he says then. ‘Teach you.’

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. All you can do is stare at him with big eyes, both in shock and intrigued. Was he really serious? Would he teach you? Wouldn’t that be weird? Wouldn’t that ruin your friendship?

‘Or any of us could,’ Changbin pipes up, breaking your thoughts. ‘Or if you need some practise after Chan teaches you-’

‘Shut up, Bin,’ Chan interrupts his friend, his hands tightening around your hips.

‘Hey, don’t get all alpha on Y/N now Channie,’ Jisung teases.

You laugh and look around at the guys, no longer feeling awkward. They really are the nicest people you know.

‘Thank you,’ you smile at them. ‘I feel much better already.’

A chorus of cheers makes you laugh and for a moment you forget the offer that still hangs in the air. That is, until Chan suddenly stands up and hauls you with him as you were still in his lap.

‘Come with me,’ he says when you stand on your own legs again.

He grabs your hand and leads you to the hallway as another chorus of cheers and whistles erupts in the room. When the door to the recording studio falls close and the sound of the guys falls away, you find yourself alone with Chan. Your heart is beating so wild in your chest that you wonder if Chan can hear it.

Is he going to kiss you? Does he really want to? What if you freak out again?

As always Chan seems to be able to read your mind and when he cups your face with his hands and locks his gaze with yours, everything else falls away. He leans his forehead against yours and his warm breath puffs against your lips.

‘Breathe,’ Chan whispers. ‘Just breathe for a moment.’

You do as he says and close your eyes as you focus on his breathing, trying to match it with yours while you try to ignore how close his lips are to yours. It doesn’t take long before you’re breathing in the same rhythm and when you open your eyes you find Chan already looking at you.

‘Now what?’ you ask, biting your lip. ‘Will you really teach me?’

Chan’s lips move up in a sweet smile and he moves his hands so that one of them is cupping the back of your neck, while the other grabs onto your chin.

‘Do you want me to?’

You should feel nervous, like you were on your date earlier, but you’re not. You feel calm. Safe. Excited.

‘Yes,’ you whisper, gripping the front of his shirt between your fingers. ‘Please.’

‘Stay still and relax, okay?’ Chan nods and then he cups your face again with his big hands. The cool metal of his rings feel nice against your hot cheeks.

Chan slowly moves his face even closer to yours and when your noses touch he stills, once again letting his breath tickle your mouth. You tremble in anticipation and tighten your fingers on the fabric of his shirt.

‘Channie,’ you breathe out, nearly panting already when he hasn’t even done anything.

Chan chuckles and closes the distance, pressing his lips against yours softly. His thumb gently caresses the skin of your cheek and you melt against him as he slowly moves his mouth over yours. You copy his movement and when he hums against your mouth in approval you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

Who knew kissing could feel so good?

After what feels like only a few seconds, Chan pulls back and you shamelessly chase his mouth with yours. A hoarse chuckle escapes Chan’s throat, but he lets you kiss him again. And again.

There’s no tongue, but at the moment you don’t feel like you neither need or want that. Not yet.

No. This is enough for now.

Chan’s lips were plump and soft and you felt like you were surrounded by his comfortable smell and touch. It felt amazing, addicting and oh so wonderful.

When you finally pulled back again to look at Chan, his pupils were dilated and his lips were red and a little swollen. He looked beautiful and you fight the urge to kiss him again.

‘Lesson one complete?’ you grin up at him.

Chan flicks your nose with his finger and grins back at you.

‘Lesson two will include tongue, think you can handle it?’

You shiver at the thought. If kissing Chan feels this good without tongue already, how would it be to really kiss him?

‘I think I can handle anything when it’s with you.'

************************************

a/n: eeeekkkk my first y/n fic. I hope you like it <3

I debated having all the guys teach her, but ended up with just Chan for now. I also might write a part 2 (; xxx

[hyukalyptus]

office hours — professor!soobin x gradstudent!reader

cw. chubby!reader, reader is an adult grad student, minimal age gap, clear consent, petnames (babe, baby, honey, darling, good boy), mommy kink, face sitting, unprotected penetration, creampie, cunnilingus, handjobs, ending is cheesy, "epilogue" of sorts involves christmas vibes, kissing, please lmk if i'm missing anything. NSFW/MDNI notes. i would feel irresponsible if i didn't acknowledge this is a romanticized portrayal of a professor-student relationship. while the relationship in this story has clear consent multiple times, irl relationships like this can be inappropriate and exploitative bc of the authority imbalance. you deserve a healthy, consensual relationship. prioritize ur well-being and autonomy. relationships should be built on mutual respect, equality and clear consent. this is a work of fiction and should be read as such. shoutout to @silvergyus for sending the prof!soob pic <3 wc. 11.6k

“Which brings us to Le Chatelier's Principle in real-world chemical reactions,” Professor Choi says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “This will be review for most of you, so I won’t go into too much detail.” 

Chemistry is your favorite thing in the world. It’s real-life magic. And Professor Choi sees it that way too. His olive green chinos are wrinkled from walking from his office. The sleeves of his white button-down are pushed up so he can write freely on the whiteboard while his burgundy tie sways with his scurries. 

Sparks of passion fill his eyes as he lectures. And he never disappoints with his cheesy jokes. Although you seem to be the only one that laughs at them—maybe you’re the only one that gets them. Not many students in his class are the experts in chemistry you are. You took it as a break from your intense course load and the elective credits are a nice bonus. 

Most of your professors are so old they barely know how to turn on their laptop and are so deep into their tenure they’ve given up. If you bothered showing up to their office hours, you’d be lucky to find a professor, let alone a helpful one. So you’ve become a frequent visitor in Professor Choi’s office hours, talking about advanced chemistry he can’t wait to teach but it’ll be at least five years before he can. In the meantime, he’ll settle for nerding out with you in his office for a few hours every week.

“Great class today, everyone,” he says. “Have a great weekend and don’t hesitate to visit me during my office hours with any questions!” That sentence started out as a normal speaking voice but ended up a shout over the shuffling of the desk chairs and backpacks. You’re typically the last one out, but you save your questions for his office hours tomorrow. 

-

“Hi,” you say, lightly tapping your knuckle against his office door.

Turning around in his chair, his lips form a pout in surprise at seeing you. “Were you waiting outside? Sorry that meeting ran a little long—” He shuffles to organize his desk. 

“That’s okay.” Adjusting your bag on your shoulder, he rests his hands on his thighs and looks up at you. Did he just look you up and down? Don’t be ridiculous. 

“What can I do ya for?”

“Right,” you start. “Can I…?” You ask, motioning toward the spare chair, waiting for his nod before sitting. “You know Professor Vaughn’s class?” You barely catch it, but his eyes roll. Professor Vaughn is the worst professor you’ve had. Boring, harsh, impatient. It doesn’t help he teaches one of the most complex forms of chemistry. “I’m not really getting this week’s content and was wondering if you could help me.”

“Of course.” He smiles. And it’s devastating. The sparkle in his eyes and those dimples. Craning his neck to look at your notes riddled with red question marks, he nods. As soon as he sees the title of your notes, he says, “Let’s think about this from a quantum mechanical perspective. If we assume that the π-complex is forming, we’re talking about a stabilization due to delocalization π-electrons, right?”

In what feels like no time at all, an hour has passed and the conversation has been the complete opposite of Professor Vaughn’s lectures. Questions led down rabbit holes, leading to other theorems and more questions. As he glances up at you through his glasses, there is an undeniable tingle in your stomach.

It’s not like you haven’t noticed how attractive Professor Choi is. He’s tall, lean but undeniably strong, he has the most perfect silky black hair and the prettiest brown eyes, and his pout—indescribably cute. And again—those goddamn dimples. He’s the perfect mixture of sexy, handsome, and pretty. You’d never think of doing anything with a professor, but you can’t help your mind wanders during the slower lectures. 

How long have you been staring at each other in silence? Too long probably. He clears his throat. “Well,” he says, looking at his watch. “My office hours have been over for a few—”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” you say, stumbling as you stand, attempting to gather your things as quickly as possible. But he shakes his head, trying to shrug it off. 

“That’s okay,” he says. “I, uh, I just have my emails waiting for me.”

You nod, shoving everything into your bag and heading out the door. What was that? You’re probably overreacting, you think to yourself. He’s charming because of his looks, there’s no way he’d— No. Don’t even finish that thought. 

-

"How is it that someone who scored the highest in my theoretical chemistry exam is turning basic lab work into a spectacle of incompetence?" Professor Vaughn boasts over your right shoulder. No doubt his thick eyebrows are furrowed.

As your hands tighten around the test tube, you know exactly what to do—you always do—but everything slips through your fingers in his class. 

"I’m trying to get the reaction to stabilize," you stammer, eyes darting between your hands, the chemical reagents lined up on the table, and your notebook.

Professor Vaugn’s expression hardens as he steps closer, looking down his nose at your station. "Trying is for high school sophomores. If you’re still trying, you’re behind."

Taking a deep breath, you carefully add three more drops to the mixture but the reaction goes wrong. Again. A plume of white smoke rises from the beaker, and the liquid turns an unexpected, muddy brown.

"Unbelievable," Vaughn mutters loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone knows you’re the best student in your class. Well, everyone except Soren, who’s so jealous of your intelligence they can hardly stand it. They simply smirk. "I expected more from you."

Your heart sinks. You checked those calculations three times. Maybe it’s your shaky hands. Or the pressure of him looming over your shoulder. Or the other stuff on your mind. 

"Are you going to sit there and guess again, or would you like to double down on failure with your next attempt?" Vaughn sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I’m not guessing, Professor. I—"

"Can’t manage a basic reaction?" Vaughn interrupts with his icy voice. "I’m beginning to wonder how you even made it into this program."

"I’m perfectly capable. The solution is just—"

"Wrong. Yes, we’ve established that." Vaughn’s lips curl into a patronizing sneer. "Maybe chemistry isn’t the field for you if this is the best you can manage." That got everyone’s attention—it would be an interesting sight to see you fail. It so rarely happens. Sure, you’ve been doubted before but have always proven yourself. Today would be no different.

You take a deep breath and count to yourself, One. Two. Three. Four. Five. 

As you block out Vaughn’s piercing gaze and the weight of the other students’ eyes, you carefully remeasure the chemical, adjusting the proportions this time, methodically double-checking your work. You add the reagent once more, slowly, and watch as the solution begins to shift. 

A moment passes. The reaction stabilizes and the solution turns a clear, pale blue. 

"Finally," Vaughn mutters. You don’t even have to look at him to know he rolled his eyes. He turns to walk away but pauses. "Barely acceptable. Next time, you won’t be given the luxury of so many failures."

-

Bursting through the door upon dismissal, you can’t get to the restroom fast enough, barely making it to a stall before tears stream down your cheeks. 

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five,” you whisper to yourself. 

Sometimes, chemical reactions need to be dealt with instantly, but that’s an overwhelming amount of pressure. You give yourself five seconds before you absolutely have to deal with it. Same thing here. Cry. Count to five. Wipe your tears and move on.

But it’s difficult to move on this time. You’ve counted to five a few too many times today. But the only person you want to talk about it with is—

Professor Choi,  Are you available to meet me in Lab 270 tomorrow afternoon? I’ve been struggling with some reactions and could use some help. I’ll be there from 2:00—4:00.  If not, no worries! 

Sniffling, you hit send on your email app, shove your phone in your bag and head home. 

The next day drags on and on. Did he even get your message? Expecting an empty lab, you’re surprised to find Professor Choi waiting for you behind a laptop wearing a cute tweed jacket with suede elbow patches. His eyebrows are furrowed as his focused eyes study the computer, but they brighten at the sight of you. 

Initially surprised by your confusion, he squeezes his eyes shut and says, “I didn’t respond to your email, did I?” He’s already got the lab station set up. How long has he been waiting on you? “So, how’s Professor Vaughn’s class?” Did someone tell him about yesterday? God, you hope not. 

“Fine,” you deadpan. Shaking your head, you say, “I’m sorry…I’m just kinda stressed.” 

“I can go if you need some time by—”

“No,” you say, softening your tone. “I’d really appreciate your help.”

And he’s more than willing, letting you ask whatever you want, never interrupting or talking over you like most of the men in the program. He gives you space to explore ideas and theories, listening closely instead of answering everything for you.

And he’s so damn sexy when he’s the one doing the ranting. The way he talks with his hands, ones that are so big with fingers so long you wish he would wrap around your—

“Shut up.”

“Excuse me?” He asks.

Oh shit, did you say that out loud? What a fucking nightmare. “Uh, sorry, just…talking to myself. Too many thoughts racing around the ole dome.”

A slight pout forms on his lips as he continues his rant. Now, the only thing you can think of are his lips wrapped around your—

“Ah!” Your hand slips toward the Bunsen burner and, great, now you’ve got a nice burn on your thumb. 

“Oh gosh, are you okay?” He stands quickly. “Let me see.” His fingers graze your palm, igniting a fiercer burn than the actual flame just did. “Run it under cold water, okay?”

In the meantime, he straightens up your station before meeting you at the sink. “Is something wrong?” His words make you jump. “You seem distracted.” 

That’s all it takes. The floodgates open. You rant about the sexist piece of shit Professor Vaughn and his power moves to intimidate you when he knows you’re the best student in the program. About how embarrassed you were in lab yesterday. Last semester when you raised your hand to correct an equation on the board and he gave you a firm talking to about respect after class. 

He watches you carefully, handing over a towel for your hands as you take a steadying breath, fighting back tears.

“Did I ever tell you why I started studying chemistry?” he asks. You sniffle, shaking your head. “My grandfather. He was a baker.” His voice softens, and you look up to find his eyes full of kindness. “Every Saturday, he’d make me work in his bakery. I didn’t mind—it felt like magic, you know? But really, it’s science. It’s all precision, measurements, timing.” 

A smile tugs at his lips. “Once, I tried baking a cake for my mom’s birthday, followed his recipe exactly. Measured the flour, the sugar, the cocoa. When I pulled it out of the oven, it was hard. Flat. I was sure he’d be disappointed, calling it a waste of time and ingredients. I was terrified. But he looked at it, smiled, and told me to try again the next day. When I asked why it didn’t work, he said I needed to ‘feel my way through it.’”

You sit there, the sting from your burn now fading, but your heart’s still aching, wanting something from him—a hug, a kiss, even just a pat on the shoulder.

“If I’d gotten it right the first time, I’d never know what overmixed batter looks like. Or that I like more cocoa than he did. Or that you should coat berries in flour.” His smile creeps up to his eyes. “Seeing how failure could make you better—it made me curious. I wanted to understand why some things worked and others didn’t, why I needed to feel my way through it, to get into the details.” He makes eye contact with you again. “That’s why I went into chemistry. Baking taught me the magic is in the little things—if you’re willing to screw up and keep going.”

Nodding, you smile back. His words hang in the air for a moment, like they’re meant to settle, but something’s missing. 

“All I’m saying is, its okay to fuck things up, okay?” he says, his candidness drawing a chuckle from you. “How else would you learn?”

-

The world’s drained of color—only hazy shades of grey and beige are left. Your palms press against a cold marble countertop with the faint sound of running water echoing in the distance. The reflection of the mirror looks like you, but not quite. The woman in the mirror has her lips painted a dark, sultry brown, a shade you’d never choose. And the outfit is far too dressy for a lecture. Shadows fall where there shouldn’t be any. 

The hallways are unfamiliar, yet you know it's the same building you visit almost every day. It's blurry, like you’re walking through a memory that isn’t yours. 

You look down at the saddle shoes on your feet clicking against the tile floor, unnervingly filling the emptiness. It feels like someone else is controlling your body but you don’t question it. You can’t. Your hand raises, knuckles brushing a wooden door before it creaks open on its own. 

On the other side of the door, Professor Choi faces a green chalkboard. Has that always been in his office? Hurriedly scribbling down equations, he glances between the board and the notebook in his hand. When he looks over his shoulder at you, his eyes soften and a slow smile spreads across his face. “Come in,” he says gently, setting his notebook aside. His voice wraps around you, making the room feel smaller, closer. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your spine tingles. “I know,” you reply, but the words sound hollow, like you’re speaking from somewhere else. 

“Here,” he suggests, holding a piece of chalk out to you. The way he gestures toward the board is magnetic. As you take it from his hand, your fingers brush his. “What do you think of this?” An unfinished equation waits to be solved. His presence looms behind you, close but not quite touching as you reach up to solve it. Your heart pounds, every stroke of the chalk on the board heavier than it should.

“Impressive,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough around the edges. You turn to face him and he’s closer than expected, his warmth radiating against your skin. The air is thick with something unspoken. You step closer, tentative at first, then quicker, more certain. Your lips almost brush his, but he pulls back, his breath catching.

He looks down, your name a whisper on his lips, soft and pained. “I—” His eyes flicker up to meet yours, then fall back down like the weight of your gaze is too much.

“What?” You ask, your voice barely more than a breath. Your eyes dart between his, lingering on his tempting mouth. He leans in again with desire in his eyes. He wants to kiss you. You can feel it. And for a moment you think he might.

But he pulls away, his forehead nearly resting against yours. “I don’t think we should be doing this,” he says, his voice strained, as if saying the words is physically painful for him.

“Why not?” The question slips from your lips before you can stop it, frustration and longing lacing your tone.

His hands flex at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to touch you. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to, or—”

“Why would I feel like that?” you interrupt, your voice impatient. Your heart races, pounding in your ears, drowning out reason.

“I’m your professor,” he breathes out like it’s a curse. His words only fan the flames of the tension building between you. There’s nothing wrong with that, you think to yourself. It’s not like you’re fresh out of high school—you’re a grad student, close to starting the same PhD he earned barely three years ago. He’s no more than five years older.

“I don’t care,” you insist, stepping even closer, your lips a breath away from his. “I want you to kiss me.”

His eyes darken, his resolve faltering as his gaze drops to your lips. “It’s a mistake,” he whispers, but his voice trembles with indecision, trying to convince himself more than you.

“Make the mistake,” you urge, your voice soft but sure. Your hand reaches for his tie, tugging as light as you can just to bring him that much closer. “You said it yourself, it’s okay to fuck things up.”

There’s a beat of silence, so thick it feels as though the room itself is holding its breath, waiting. And in that moment, the space between you seems to collapse, the weight of everything unsaid pulling you closer. 

The millisecond before your lips touch, you breathe awake. 

You bolt straight up, feeling around your soft bed sheets, breathless as your heart pounds from the vividness of it all. For a moment, you linger in the feeling, brushing your fingers over your lips, feeling the warmth of the almost kiss. But reality sinks in and your stomach drops.

Reaching for your phone, you check the time. Great, it’s almost time for his class. But there’s no hazy world to hide in. Skipping class might be an option but an exam reminder drags you out of bed. 

- 

Trudging across campus, your stomach sinks lower with each step. How can you look him in the eye? Dropping your bag to the floor with a thud, you hang your head low. Let’s just get through this exam and get outta here. 

“How’s your hand?” Professor Choi’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding his hands up. “Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Looking at you like you’re the cutest puppy he’s ever seen, you can’t bring yourself to speak, but you hold out your hand. The second his fingertips touch yours, you flinch and jerk it back. 

“Um—” you start. “Better, thanks.” Turning away from him, you distract yourself with a random notebook from your bag. 

“...You okay? You shouldn’t be nervous about the exam.” When you look up, you’re met with eyes that appear…hurt? 

“No, it’s not that.” That’s not a good answer. “Just…” What would you even say? I had an incredibly vivid—and delicious—dream about you last night and now I need to know how your lips feel in real life? “Cramps.”

“Ah.” He nods and leaves you alone, awkwardly walking to the front of the class to make some announcements and general good wishes before the exam. With your fist pressed to your chin, you refuse to look up, hanging your head low even as he slides you your copy. 

There’s a bright green post-it stuck to it with a note, It’s okay to fuck it up! Your heart races as your eyes dart around searching for him. When you find him, he gives you a soft smile. You return the smile but rush to unstick it before anyone sees, storing it in your notebook for safe keeping. 

-

As you return to your apartment, the post-it stares back at you like you’re the guiltiest son-of-a-bitch in the world. It’s practically calling you a whore. And you can hardly take it anymore. You can’t bring yourself to face him for class a few days later—although skipping feels like a cardinal sin. Soon enough, though, your email dings. 

From: Choi Soobin, PhD I noticed you were absent from class today. I hope everything’s okay. The lecture notes are attached for your reference. Feel free to stop by my office hours with any questions. Professor Choi

Did your heart just flutter? Why are you walking toward his office? When you knock on the door, he stands—more like stumbles—to greet you, “Hi!” 

“Hi, Professor Choi…” You linger in the doorway, clutching your notebook tight to your chest. “Sorry I missed class—”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah—”

“You’re not overwhelmed with coursework, are you?” His eyes search yours, and there’s a softness in his voice that makes it hard to look away.

“No, no, I’m alright. I just…had a migraine this morning,” you say, shrugging slightly. “It’s gone now, though.”

He nods, easing into a warm smile. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” His gaze doesn’t waver and the intensity makes your pulse quicken. “So, I’m guessing you’re here to go over questions from the lecture?”

“Actually, it’s Professor Vaughn’s class I’m struggling with. His lecture today was…brutal.”

“I’m shocked,” he says sarcastically. “The man’s got a gift for making simple concepts sound like Greek.”

“Exactly,” you laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing. “I thought it was me, but he seems to take pride in making everything harder than it needs to be.”

“Trust me, it’s not you,” he says, a glint of warmth in his eyes. “He’s terrible. And annoying. And boring. And I’d tell him that.”

You raise a brow, skeptical. “You wouldn’t.”

“Well…” He breaks into a grin. “Maybe after I reach tenure. Though he may be retired by then.”

“Or dead,” you say matter-of-factly. He looks at you awkwardly then you both laugh, genuinely. There’s an ease to it.

He gestures to your notebook. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

-

“I can’t believe I’m laughing at that,” you say, a giggle escaping your lips. 

“You always laugh at my bad jokes,” he replies, staring at your face a little too longingly. If you were anyone else, he might find some excuse to touch you. Maybe brush a piece of lint off your shoulder, lightly touch your arm while he laughed at something you said, or something as casual as a fist bump. 

If he were any other guy, you’d be much more obvious, making it crystal clear you want him to kiss you right now. But you can’t. You don’t even know how he thinks about you. You’re probably just another student to him. 

“Well, those are all my questions,” you say, awkwardly packing your bag. 

“Yeah, you can, uh…head out…” he trails off as you start to rise from your seat. 

You’re searching for something to say, something to let you stay just a little longer. But nothing comes. He watches you walk toward the door, the silence hanging in the space between you. 

“Pens!” His voice suddenly burst out, loud enough to make you stop mid-step. “They, uh—I went to a conference last week and they gave me a ton,” he says, scrambling to gather a handful from his desk. 

You take them, your fingers brushing against his in a way that feels far too intimate. His eyes lock with yours, the touch sending a ripple of tension through you. “But you’re, uh…picky about your pens, aren’t you?” He asks, his voice softer now, almost unsure.

Laughing quietly, you say, “Yeah, but…that’s okay.” Your words are heavy with subtext you can’t bring yourself to say out loud. “Well, goodbye.” You offer him a smile, stepping back toward the door. “Thanks again.” 

“Yeah. Goodbye,” he says, but his feet shuffle forward as if he’s moving without thinking. Awkwardly reaching for a handshake, he realizes your hands are occupied. Instead, he reaches around you for the door handle, but he gets a tad too close and your brain scrambles. 

Before you can hold yourself back, you drop the pens, letting them clatter to the floor as your arms wrap around his neck. Your lips meet his in a rush, warm and soft. While your eyes close to savor the feeling, his widen in shock before he relaxes into your touch and wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer. 

It’s everything you’ve been holding back—unspoken feelings unraveling in a heartbeat. His lips move against yours with a hunger that surprises you, the world melting away as you lose yourself in the moment. You feel weightless, your pulse racing as his hands grip your waist a little tighter, as though he’s afraid to let you go.

When you finally break apart, breathless and dazed, he presses his forehead to yours, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re never gonna use those pens, are you?” he asks, his voice low and rough, like he’s trying to anchor himself in humor, trying to bring himself back down to earth.

You laugh, shaking your head. “No,” you admit, your heart still pounding. “They’re garbage.”

Before you can think, you kiss him again and this time, he doesn’t hesitate. His mouth crashes into yours with an urgency, like he’s wanted to kiss you since the second he laid eyes on you. His lips are soft, but his kiss is demanding, making up for all the lost moments between you. For those few minutes, nothing else matters—you bask in one of the greatest kisses either of you have ever had. But not for long.

Reality catches up too quickly. You pull away suddenly, breathless and wide-eyed. “Oh my god—” you gasp, backing up, your fingers graze your lips trying to make sense of what just happened. “I’m so sorry—”

“No,” he interrupts quickly, shaking his head. “Don’t be. I—” He’s stumbling through his words, just as lost as you are but neither of you regret it. “I wanted—”

“That was…” You can’t even finish your sentence. It was everything. Too much, too fast, too real. But you can’t take it back.

“I—” He’s trying to find the right words, to reassure you, to tell you he felt it too, that he wanted it just as badly. But he’s as flustered as you are, his voice rough and unsure.

“I’ll just…go throw myself off a bridge now,” you mumble. You can’t even look at him as you make a beeline for the door, your face burning with embarrassment. You think you hear him say something, but the blood rushing in your ears drowns it out.

You leave the room quickly, your heart about to burst through your chest, trying to process what just happened. The kiss lingers on your lips, a mix of exhilaration and terror swirling inside you. It’s too much to handle.

But, hey, there’s one bit of good news. At least he kissed you back. 

-

What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Drop his class? It’s too late in the semester for that. And you need those credits. Wait until the end of the semester to talk to him again? Can you go that long without his lips on yours again? 

Back at your apartment, you rummage through your books to find the university’s code of conduct, hurriedly searching for anything related to “appropriate relationships,” “faculty-student relationships,” “consensual,” blah blah blah, whatever the university has coded sleeping with a professor.

The University strongly urges those individuals in positions of authority not to engage in conduct of an amorous or sexual nature with a person they are, or are likely in the future to be, in a position of evaluating.

Your eyes read over the words, “strongly urges” once more. Not totally against the rules, you suppose. Even if you did wait until the semester was over, you’d need to report it. You wish you could talk with him about it, but bringing this up is tricky. Is it moving too fast? You can’t text him, you don’t have his number. And using your student email to send a message to his faculty email that says, “Oh, by the way, I checked the rules and we’re in the clear to have sex!” is a terrible idea. 

Maybe one kiss in his office doesn’t mean anything. Oh, but it was everything. 

-

After much deliberation, you convince yourself to attend his class a few days later. You’ve brought the code of conduct along, as well as a bright pink post-it sticking out of the book. To avoid any form of small talk with him, you wait outside right until the start of class. 

Along the way to your desk, you silently plop the code of conduct on his desk and scurry away. When you work up the courage to look up at him, he’s flipped to the marked page. Highlighted on the page is the paragraph that “strongly urges” people in positions of authority not to sleep with students. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. The message couldn’t be clearer, he thought. You’re practically telling him to leave you alone. But when he finally reads the post-it, his heart flutters. Written in your handwriting, it says, It’s okay to fuck it up! complete with a smiley face. 

As much as he tries to fight it, he glances up at you to catch your gaze. And just as the slightest smile appears on his face, a big one appears on yours. You hide it with your palm as you start at the blank page of your notebook. Blinking, he shakes his head and begins his lecture. But how can you concentrate now? 

You’ve gotta give it to him, he delivers his lecture perfectly. If it were you, you’d barely be able to think. Hell, you barely can throughout the whole thing. 

Now that you’ve gotten that smile of permission, you finally let yourself daydream. 

Has his ass always been that cute? Has he always been that tall? Has his voice always been that deep and sexy? 

You don’t even know what he’s talking about, but that’s okay, you can always stop by his office hours. “What do you think?” He asks. 

Oh shit, he’s looking at you for an answer. He can always rely on you to keep class moving along when everybody else is dead silent. You shake out of your thoughts, panic-reading the board to come up with something. It's similar to your discussion you had the last time you went to his office hours. The time that ended in that gorgeous kiss. Throwing together an answer, his eyes brighten as he cheers, “Exactly!” 

Oh my god. He’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. You could just gobble him up. 

-

“So, I suppose we should talk about…” Professor Choi trails off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air like it’s obvious what he’s getting at. And it is. But you stay quiet. You wanna hear him admit it. You raise an eyebrow, playing coy.

You decided to press your luck by visiting his office outside scheduled office hours—right after class—to simply test the waters and gauge his reaction to the code of conduct and that kiss…that incredible kiss. 

“You know…” He gestures vaguely between the two of you, sighing like okay, fine, I guess I’ll say it. “I like you and you like me, right?” His voice dips just slightly, enough for you to notice the hesitation. “Unless I’m totally misreading—”

“No! You’re not…misreading anything,” you’re quick to say, along with a chuckle. Phew—he was worried there for a second. So goddamn cute. “What do you wanna talk about?”

He exhales a small laugh, but his smile is strained, cautious. “I want to make sure you don’t feel…weird about this.” Hand sliding nervously along the edge of his desk, he traces the wood grain before his eyes flick up to meet yours. Truth be told, he’d never do something like this with a student. Never want to make anyone feel pressured. But he never thought he’d feel like this. Giddy and blushy like you’re his first crush. 

“Why would I feel weird?” You tilt your head, genuinely curious. You’ve thought about this—about him—far too much for any of it to feel weird.

“I’m just terrified you feel like you need to do something about this.” You’re taken aback, confusion visibly etched across your face. “You know, because I’m your professor or because I’m in the department and I know your plans for a PhD here.” His voice softens, vulnerability creeping in. “I don’t want it to feel like I’m pushing you into anything.”

“I don’t,” you say gently. “It’s not like that.”

He nods, though the tightness in his jaw doesn’t disappear. “Because if you ever even remotely feel like I’m pressuring you, I want you to tell me. Immediately. I mean it.”

“No,” You shake your head, almost too fast. “I mean, it doesn’t feel like that. Not at all. I’ve thought about this…about us, a lot.” Your voice falters for a moment as his eyes widen, softening in a way that makes your stomach flutter. You weren’t expecting him to look at you like that—so open, so relieved.

His fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to reach out to you. “Yeah?”

You nod again, more confidently this time. “But I think we should wait until the semester’s over. Before we…you know…do anything.”

He smiles gently and leans back, visibly more at ease. “I think so too.” 

But you didn’t realize how fucking difficult it would be to get through the last six weeks of the semester. Every class you sit there, thighs pressed together thinking about the dirtiest things you want him to do to you. Every office hour you went to, you could practically swim through the thickness of the tension between you two. 

It didn’t help how cute he was being. Post-its he’d leave on every exam of yours—You’re gonna do great! You’ve got this. Trust your instincts.—encouragement no other student got. You kept every one of them in your bedside table drawer. 

When finals week finally arrives, it wasn’t just about exams; it was about counting the hours until you could finally be with him. Or at least talk to him like he wasn’t your professor. As he handed over your final exam, the familiar green post-it note was stuck to it: Happy Finals Week! 

Your internal scream was so loud, you’re worried your classmates heard it. You’d pre-written a post-it to stick to it once you returned the exam. It had your phone number, a smiley face, and the words: Since you’re not my professor anymore. 

-

After a full day of checking your phone every twenty seconds, you started to give up. Was he just playing you? Did someone else see the note? Did he change his mind? But finally, you receive a text.

hi! this is soobin (professor choi lol). i was wondering if you wanted to get dinner or something?

soobin!! omg yes i would love to get dinner with you :) how’s tomorrow? 

how about right now? if you want, of course! no pressure we can totally wait until tomorrow it’s up to you

You squealed into your pillow, kicking and giggling like an idiot. Should you be flirty back? 

i can be ready in 30 min. 364 oakridge drive. it’s an apartment building- i’ll meet you downstairs. 

be there in 45 :) 

-

Like a perfect gentleman, Soobin meets you at the passenger door, swinging it open with a charming smile before gently closing it behind you. The slow walk up to his front door makes your stomach stir. He has to fumble through his keys to unlock it. 

Once inside, he slips his shoes off quietly, revealing cozy patterned socks that make you smile. Meticulously, he hangs his jacket on a coat tree and places his keys in a speckled clay catch-all that rests on a table next to a houseplant. As he walks toward the kitchen, he glances over his shoulder, his voice low and inviting. “Do you want a drink or something?” The warmth in his gaze makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re drawn to this softer side of him. In class, his tone is bright and dorky. In his office, it’s casual and laid-back. At dinner, it was sweet and charming. But now? Now it’s sultry, almost sexy. Like he can’t wait to be with you but would never, ever pressure you. 

“Hot tea?” You suggest with a steady voice, despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“Sounds good,” he agrees, switching on his tea kettle. In the meantime, you take a look around his much neater than expected apartment. 

The mid-century modern furniture is impeccably arranged—a sleek sofa, a low coffee table, and a stylish armchair with an even more stylish decorative pillow. Perfectly nurtured plants thrive around the room, adding a green vibrancy to the minimalist backdrop, breathing life into the space. A gallery wall above his expensive-looking couch features travel photos, beautiful art, and a few subtly science-inspired pieces. In the corner across the couch is a sleek electric fireplace underneath a huge TV. 

“Who’s this?” you ask, your heart swelling as a fluffy gray cat glares at you through one half-open eye. Her perfectly groomed fur and regal posture make her look like she owns the place. Just then, Soobin steps into the living room, holding two steaming mugs of tea, filling the air with a warm spice. 

“That’s Molly…short for Molecule,” he says. “Don’t worry, she’s sweet.” 

Extending your hand toward the cat, he starts to sniff you. “Hi, M—wait,” you pause, looking up at Soobin with a teasing smile. “Molly, short for Molecule?” He nods, his grin widening. “You’re adorable,” you tell him. Has anyone ever blushed quite like he did just now?

He stares down at his feet, clearly caught off guard. “You’re,” he starts. “Well, you’re cute too.” His sincerity makes your smile grow even stronger.

“Can I sit?” you ask, nodding toward the couch.

“Oh,” his smile falters for a moment. “Yes, of course. Make yourself at home.” You plop down on his couch, settling into the surprisingly soft cushions. Molly clearly doesn’t think the couch is big enough for the two of you, so she strides over to probably the nicest cat tree you’ve ever seen.

You sip your hot tea and your body finally relaxes. As you reach to sit it on the coffee table, he politely asks, “I don’t mean to be a square, but can you use a coaster?” 

“Of course,” you say, complying with the request. “So, tell me,” you begin, clearing your throat. “How’d I do on my final?” Humming, he stands to rummage through his messenger bag slumped over a dining chair. You gasp, “A ninety-seven?” Thumbing through the pages, you find a single red X on possibly the easiest question you’ve had on an exam since high school: What is the atomic number of oxygen? “Are you kidding me?” 

Any attempt to mask your embarrassment is impossible. It only deepens when you look up and catch him already watching you—lips pressed tight, failing miserably to hide a smug, amused smile.  

“I, uh…” You scratch the back of your neck. “I got that one wrong on purpose. You know, so as to not raise any suspicion.” 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, did you now?” You nod. “That was on the exam just so Toby wouldn’t get a zero.” You nod begrudgingly. “And you put 10! That’s not even close. That’s—”

“Neon,” you grumble. “Yeah I know…” you say, avoiding his eyes as he laughs playfully. 

“Neon’s a noble gas and oxygen is a—”

“Reactive nonmetal,” you cut him off. “I know, okay?” You shove his shoulder playfully, but your grin betrays you. “It was a high-pressure environment. Sitting in an exam room with your professor watching you."

"I barely looked up from my laptop,” he reminds you. 

"Your presence is distracting enough," you shoot back, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Ah, so my intellectual aura threw you off?”

“I dunno…is that what you think, professor?” You ask cheekily. “Maybe it was something else.” You’ve tossed the exam onto the coffee table, moving closer. 

“Like what?” 

“Just…you. You’re distracting.” You smirk, the words slipping out almost involuntarily, like they’ve been waiting on the tip of your tongue. 

Intrigued, he tilts his head and asks, “What about me?” There’s something magnetic in the way he looks at you—like he knows the answer but wants to hear you say it, to savor the way it sounds coming from your lips. 

You hum, tracing the lines of his body with your eyes, mapping out uncharted territory before exploring it. You don’t want to move too fast, but every fiber of your being screams for more. He’s not lighting a fire inside you—he’s setting the whole forest ablaze. Sure, your imagination has been running rampant since he returned your feelings six weeks ago, but now that you’re here, he scrambles every thought.

“Your eyes…” you say while yours flick over his face, taking in every curve, every freckle, every lash. “They’re so pretty.” 

A smile—small but real—tugs at the corners of his lips. The kind that’s private, meant just for you. His eyes darken as he leans in, the space between you shrinking. You glance down, noticing the way his long fingers curl around the mug handle. There’s something almost hesitant in the way he holds it. You take it from him gently, setting it atop a coaster as quietly as you can.

“Your hands…” you whisper, fingers barely brushing his knuckles, tension coiled under his skin. They’re hands that have worked, experimented, written things down—hands you want on you. Guiding one to your thigh, the squeeze he returns sends a shudder through you. 

Everything between you is electric. Your breaths come faster now, more desperate. Every inch you move toward him is a test, a slow-motion collapse of restraint.

“Your legs…” A soft breathless chuckle escapes as you glance down. His lips part like he’s about to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. Boldness surges through you like a current and you hike one leg over both of his, straddling him. The shift is seismic. His hands move to your hips, gripping you, afraid to let go. The heat of his touch spreads through you, anchoring you in place, though it feels like everything around you is spinning.

“And your lips…” you murmur, leaning closer, your breath mingling with his. “Oh my god, those fucking lips.” You can’t stop staring at them, just a breath away now, soft and wet. Your pulse races. 

You cup his face, lifting his chin until his eyes meet yours again. His pupils are blown wide, the desire in them unmistakable. Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, and the moment stretches, suspended. You lean in just enough to feel his breath on your lips. 

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

And he does.

It isn’t tentative—it’s dam-breaking. Like he’s been starving for it, holding back for years. His lips are soft but urgent as his hands tighten around your hips to pull you closer. You taste jasmine tea on his lips, a subtle sweetness mingling with the spice of his cologne—clove, pepper, something dark and addictive. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper against his lips. “I can’t believe I had to wait so long to kiss you again.” You kiss him again and he moans sweetly into your mouth. Just as the kiss deepens, he retreats, his breath ragged. “You okay?” 

Nervously nodding, he says, “Yeah,” but his eyes flicker away. He tries to kiss you again, but you place your hand on his chest, gently stopping him.

“Wait,” you say, eyes searching his face. “What’s going on? Am I being too—”

“No,” he says, almost a little too urgently. “It’s not that. It’s just…” His hands fall to the couch. Bracing to tell the truth, he squeezes his eyes shut before adding, “I need to tell you something.” You sit back on your heels, still in his lap but giving him room to speak. 

“What is it?” You ask softly. 

“There’s this thing… I haven’t—uh…” He stumbles over the words, his fingers twitching at his sides.

“Soobin?” you ask, your voice gentle but steady. That’s the first time you’ve called him by his first name. It feels utterly…vulnerable. “Are you a virgin?” The question is delicate. Shutting his eyes again, he takes a deep breath. 

“No,” he says. “Well, not exactly.” You narrow your eyes at him. What is that even supposed to mean? “It’s just…it’s been a while. And before then, I hadn’t had a lot of sex. And I haven’t had any…recently.” 

“How long?” you encourage, your eyes softening.

“A year.” 

You hum softly in acknowledgement, watching his confidence falter. Instead of pulling back, you lean forward, trailing slow, deliberate kisses along his neck. He trembles under your touch, a soft gasp escaping his lips, your hands moving all over his body, claiming him.

“Oh, Professor Choi,” you whisper, your voice dripping with heat and promise. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”

-

As your breath slows, you sit up and let your hand linger over his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. “Tell me,” you start. “What do you like?” 

“Um,” he swallows, trying to force the lump down his throat. He’s so hesitant but he finally says, “Touching.” 

“You touching my body or me touching yours?” 

He exhales shakily. “The first,” he says, confirming with a squeeze to your hips. 

You hum against his ear. What are you gonna do with him? Tease him forever? Let him have his way with you? You ask, “Why don’t you take my shirt off for me?” 

Gracing his hands over your arms, he grounds himself again before asking, “You sure?” 

“I’m sure.” You nod, guiding his hands to the top button of your blouse, letting him slip it through the buttonhole. One by one, he exposes more of your skin, his heart thumping harder with each passing second. Pushing the silky fabric past your shoulders until your top half is only covered by a bubblegum pink mesh bra, leaving almost nothing to the imagination—except for the red embroidered hearts over your nipples.

After easing the shirt out from your trousers, you reach back to pull at the sleeves, letting the shirt fall to the floor. He slips his finger under one of your bra straps, pulling it to the side, but you stop him. “Wait. It’s your turn.” 

Tugging on his tie, you slip it through the collar and unbutton his dress shirt. Seeing his body bare in front of you for the first time, you’re practically drooling. You indulge in running your hands all over his body, lean with subtle muscles, from his chest to the bottom of his abs. 

“How come you got to touch me if I didn’t get to touch you?” He asks innocently. 

“You’re right,” you chuckle. “I’m sorry.” You smile and sit up to press your palms against his and let your fingers intertwine. Your heart melts and you fear you may throw up. “Did you want to take my bra off first?” He nods. Fumbling fingers reach behind you to snap it off, letting it fall to the couch. As he sees your bare tits, his eyes widen and he lets out the cutest little Oh. 

He’s hesitant to do anything. You have to guide his hands to massage your tits—and they’re the perfect size for you. 

“You’re so…soft,” he says, looking up at your eyes, like he’s not sure if that was okay to say. 

“You like them?” He nods eagerly. Experimentally swiping a thumb across a nipple, it hardens at his touch while you let out a sharp gasp. 

“You like that,” he says matter-of-factly. “Can I taste?” Nodding, you lean forward, welcoming his lips. His body finally relaxes as he moans against your skin. Circling the tip of his tongue around your nipple, he’s teasing you. And oh my god do you love it. 

One of your hands threads through his hair and you stuff the other down your pants, but he grabs your wrist softly. 

“That’s not fair,” he whispers and you concede, keeping your hands to yourself. With one hand, he stuffs your tit back in his mouth while the other plays with your other nipple. His hot, wet mouth on one nipple and his teasing fingers playing with the other sends waves of pleasure through you that may send you over the edge.

If you don’t do something to ease your need, you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to take this. You resort to grinding against his hard cock, making his hips buck. 

Lifting your legs off his, you swing around to sit next to him, palming his cock over his trousers. Desperately clawing at the waistband, you unbutton and unzip his pants, encouraging him to kick them off. He stands to slip them off and as you reach for the band of his boxers, he stops you. 

“Your turn,” he whispers. And you comply. But not without a show. Standing slowly, you push him to the couch and turn your back to him. As you push your pants down, your ass looks delicious in your thong that matches your bra—mesh bubblegum pink with red trim. When you turn back, he’s fisting himself over his underwear. 

“Nuh-uh, that’s not fair,” you say. Returning next to him on the couch, you feel him over his boxers and your mouth waters. Goddamn you can’t wait for him to be inside you. “Do you have any lube?” He nods and shortly returns with a barely used tube. 

While he stays standing, you sit up on the couch, running your hands across his muscular thighs and perfect pelvis. Looking up at him, his eyes are bright, darting all over your body like he’s afraid to miss something. He fiddles with his waistband, flipping the elastic over softly. A small smile flicks across your lips before you tug his boxers down his legs, leaving trails of kisses along the way.

Encouraging him to sit down, you look down at his cock, long and hard and dripping with precum. Finally, you drag your fingertips up and down his cock before squeezing him. He moans like you’ve never heard a man moan before. Laying your head on his shoulder, you sprinkle kisses all over his skin, finding a spot behind his ear that makes him squirm. 

He hisses and—almost involuntarily—wraps one of his hands around yours to use his long fingers to guide your hand up and down. There’s something magical about someone with so little experience telling—no, showing—you what to do with his body. It’s electrifying. He hasn’t been touched in so long that he’s desperate to get off and can’t waste time with words. But no words need to be shared. His movements tell you what speed he likes. 

Snaking his other arm around you, he stuffs his fingers in your hair and clenches his fist, subconsciously tugging the strands. His lips are right against your ear, breathing rapidly and heavily and he can hardly take it anymore. You watch his chest rise and fall as he clenches your hair, moaning getting quicker, he squeaks and whines. 

Hurriedly pressing his lips to your temple, you can’t take your eyes off his cock as he shoots short spurts of cum all over his stomach. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath before he gives you a sweet smile. 

You don’t let up with kisses all over his body. Sprinkling kisses here and there while he cleans himself up with a hand towel he’d brought with him when he got the lube from his bedroom. Once he’s clean, he slouches down the couch. 

“Will you sit on my face?” His eyes are ever so sweet and innocent, like he’s finally able to test all his fantasies. “Please…” You hum like you’re only considering it, but we all know you’ll say yes. “Please, mommy?” Everything halts. 

“Mommy?” 

“F-fuck—” he sits up, ears turning redder than you’ve ever seen them—anyone’s ears for that matter. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first—”

“No, no…” you say gently, cupping his jaw to make him look at you. You can’t help yourself—you press your lips to his again and you lose yourself in his intoxicating kiss. But you break it and say, “Keep calling me that.” 

“M-mommy?” You hum. Before you give him what he asked for, you shove your tit in front of his lips. He doesn’t need to be told what to do. His plush lips wrap around your hard nipple while he thumbs the other. It feels like fucking heaven.

“That’s my good boy.” He lets out the most pathetic whimper you’ve ever heard in your goddamn life. His eyebrows furrow, looking up at you through his lashes. “Are you my good boy?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding eagerly. “Yes, mommy. Of course.” 

“Soobin,” you breathe in disbelief, dropping your head back. “You’re so sexy, I swear to god.” 

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head. “That’s you.” He smiles. “Will you please sit on my face now?” He slouches down again without waiting for an answer. “Please.” You hike your leg up to rest your foot against the back of the couch, gently hovering over him. But he wraps his hands around your hips to yank you down. As he flicks his tongue over your clit, you might be embarrassed by the volume of your moan, but there’d be no reason to. 

“I thought you said you didn’t do this a lot?”

“Well,” he takes a deep breath. “This was always what I was best at.” You chuckle. “Wait, no—” he shakes his head. “I’m good at the other stuff too. I hope.” Returning his tongue to your clit, you gasp and fall forward, bracing yourself against the back of the couch. He seizes the opportunity to get fully entranced in your taste. 

There's an impossible contrast—your body melts, muscles soft and pliant as you surrender to the pleasure but, at the same time, goosebumps prickle along your skin, sharp and electric. Warmth and vulnerability layered with a thrill that leaves you shivering, somehow both at ease and on edge.

But then he snakes his hand behind your ass to tease your asshole with his pinky. And it's overwhelming. Your knees are so weak you can hardly hold yourself up. The way his hands feel on your body, touching you in all the right places, flicking his tongue perfectly, moaning so temptingly along with the built up tension—it is so much. So. Fucking. Much. 

It builds in your stomach—teetering on the edge and god you only hope he doesn’t stop what he’s doing. But you can’t form words to tell him that. But he knows. 

And then it happens. 

You feel like you’re floating—or falling may be more accurate—as your orgasm washes over you, thighs quite literally quivering around his face as you come undone on top of him. For him. Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you roll and plop to the couch and he sloppily replaces his tongue with his fingers. You make a mental note to show him exactly where your clit is later. How is it that he found it so easily with his tongue but missed it with his hand? You guess he was right—oral is what he’s best at. Your chest heaves with your deep breaths as you come down from your high, watching him smirk at you. 

“Oh my god,” you say breathlessly. There’s a beat of silence. “What the fuck?”

“What?” He chuckles. 

“I wasn’t expecting that.” 

“I told you I’m good at it.” 

“Where’s your bedroom? This couch is too small for what we’re about to do.” 

Once he shuts his bedroom door to keep Molly out, he pulls you by your waist to press his bare body to yours and kisses you again so romantically it takes your breath away. 

“Wow,” he whispers against your lips. “You’re so beautiful.” 

“Oh my god, shut up.” You go straight back in for more kisses. But you break it— “But not literally, though. Please keep saying stuff like that.” You giggle together, slowly falling toward the bed until you’re gently laid on your back and he’s over top of you. 

“Can I, like, kiss all over your body?”

“Of course,” you say. “You don’t need to ask.”

And then he does exactly what he wants. Starting at your lips, he moves to the corner of your mouth, trailing behind your ear and down your neck. The way his breath tickles your neck sends shivers down your spine and you need more, more, more. 

As you lay there, simply basking in the feeling of him taking his time exploring every inch of you with the softest lips you’ve ever felt, you can’t help but be giddy. He’s tentative in some areas and eager in others. After he kisses the sensitive skin under your breast, he carefully observes your reaction. When he delicately presses his lips to your pelvis, his eyes flutter up to yours nervously. 

“Soobin,” you say breathlessly. He hums against your tummy, shaky hands running up your thighs. “I need you please.”

“You need me?” You nod. “Where do you need me, mommy?” You groan, arching your back, not even knowing where to start. You need him everywhere. 

“Inside me,” you say. “Please, I’ve been thinking about it for so long.” 

“Have you?” He asks innocently, using his fingers to play with the folds of your pussy so casually, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. “I should be the impatient one.” But you know why he’s taking it so slow. He’s nervous as hell right now. 

Aligning his cock with your entrance, he slowly pushes himself inside you. And it's utterly exhilarating. For both of you. He falls forward, framing your face with his forearms, digging his nose into your neck. 

“Fuck…” He whispers shakily. Your nails drag down his back at his inexperienced hip rolls. “Oh my god, what are you doing to me?” Despite his inevitable desperation, his thrusts are controlled. He’s trying his very best at least. But his cock is so fucking perfect, you figure he’d make you feel good no matter what he does. Although, a little part of you thinks about how good he’ll be at fucking you in a few months after a little practice. Or lots of practice. 

He whispers swears, your name, and mommy…over and over again. Then he sits up, looking down at your body. Awkwardly fumbling as if he wants to say something, his mouth isn’t cooperating with his brain. He slowly comes to a stop, sliding out of you and barely touches your calf. 

“Can you, uh…would you mind, um—” 

"Do you wish to see me on my knees? Is that it, darling?"

“Yes, mommy…please, I’ve never—” 

“You’ve never had someone on their knees for you?” You ask and he silently shakes his head. “You’ve been such a good boy for me. Of course I’ll get on my knees for you.” You oblige to his request, turning yourself around and arching your back to give him a perfect view of your ass. He groans at the simple sight of your body. He swipes his hands over the swell of your ass, squeezing here and there. 

He clears his throat and asks, “What do I do?”

“Oh,” you chuckle lightly. “Just get on your knees and guide yourself in. Make sure it’s the right hole,” you say light-heartedly, trying to ease the tension a bit. 

But when he’s finally inside you again, it’s heaven. And he indulges in himself a bit—thrusting faster, harder, making your ass jiggle. The lewd sounds of his cock in your wetness and his hips smacking your skin makes it all the more erotic. But it doesn’t take long before—

“I like it better the other way, I think,” he says matter-of-factly. “Is that okay?”

“Of course that’s okay, babe,” you say, flipping back over and spreading your legs. And he slides right back inside you, letting his head fall back. But your tits bouncing are simply too tempting not to look at. They’re why he prefers it this way, so why not look at them as much as he can? He retreats a bit, opening his mouth like he wants to ask you something but he’s too shy. 

“What is it, baby?”

“I was just wondering if you…if you could—would you want to be on top?” His tone is genuinely sweet. “Like what position do you like?”

“Missionary’s my favorite too,” you say. “But I would, hm, I would really like to be on top for a bit.” Switching quickly, you align yourself over his cock and sink down on him so, so, so slowly, letting out a big sigh of relief. “Oh my god, Soobin. Are you fucking kidding me?” You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full before. The feeling stretches all the way to your toes. “I need to hump you like crazy for a bit,” you say with a chuckle. He nods like that’s perfectly fine with me, mommy. 

And you do exactly that—bounce on his cock as fast as your body lets you, relieving that built-up tension. Over the last few months, you wanted to jump his bones every time you were in the same room and that feeling never let up, like there was a tension thermometer in your body that was constantly stuck at boiling. 

But perhaps it was a bit more painful for him because an occasional rut up into you isn’t enough anymore. He holds your hips to keep you in place, fucking up into you as fast as he can. Head dropping back, he groans, your name leaving his lips. 

“Mommy?” His eyebrows furrow, looking utterly pathetic. “Let’s switch back. Please.” Hiking your leg over his hips, you land roughly on your back. Gently grabbing your hands, he pins them above your head, aligns his cock at your entrance, and slides inside you, rolling his hips so deliciously. As he kisses you, he swallows your moans. Trailing down your neck, he whispers, “Please tell me I’m making you feel good, Mommy.” 

Your eyes roll back in pleasure and you say, “Fuck, you’re making me feel so good.” 

Slowing his thrusts, he asks, “What else would you like me to do?” Smiling up at him, you rub his thighs. Waiting for an answer, he covers your collarbone in kisses, making his way back to your ear. After nibbling gently on your earlobe, he whispers, “Tell me how to make you feel even better.” Oof. Shivers. 

“Rub my clit,” you say. He sits up, fumbling with his fingers. “Use your thumb,” you giggle. “Wait.” Reaching for his hand, you let spit pool in your mouth before wrapping your lips around his thumb. Sucking on it, he looks at you like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Then he follows your instructions, rubbing your clit with his thumb while he fucks you, listening intently to every instruction, every a little to the lefts, up a little bit mores, and he never gets impatient. 

Your back arches impossibly high and you say, “I’m close, babe. Don’t stop.” You rub your own nipple, but he moves your hand out of the way, wetting his thumb with his own spit before circling it for you. 

Everything has been building to this moment. Staring at him in every lecture, longing for his touch. That kiss in his office was just the start of your addiction. Attending his office hours didn’t help, but you couldn’t stay away. You needed to be closer to him. To feel heat radiating off his body. To smell his spicy cologne. To watch his fingers wrap around his pen and wish they were wrapped around something else. 

All of it was for this moment right here. Cumming around his cock for the first time. You can’t wait any longer. There’s a white hot burning in your belly that’s getting more furious by the second. His name leaves your mouth in a yelp before fireworks explode inside you. 

Your legs shake around his waist as he fucks you through it, not changing a single thing. Overwhelmed with pleasure, you grab his wrist to stop him from rubbing your nipple to make sure it’s the most perfect orgasm you’ve ever had—not too much and not too little. 

And it’s neither. Instead, it’s perfection. You knew it would be. It seems to last forever but somehow not long enough. As soon as you finish, you miss it. 

Catching your breath, your vision clears up as you look up at him with a smile. He shyly asks, “How was that?” 

You take a deep breath and say, “Oh my god, that was so good.” Rubbing soothing strokes up and down your thighs, you can tell he’s getting impatient. But still—he’d never pressure you in a million years. 

Bending to kiss your neck again, he whispers, “Can I cum inside you?” You nod frantically. 

“Please.” 

“I have condoms if you want.” You think about it for a second. Really. You would love nothing more than to feel him fill you up. But it’s risky. “Mommy…” His hips slowly start moving again, encouraging a decision from you. “What are you thinking?”

“Cum inside me, please. Wanna feel all of you,” you say, rubbing his back. He smiles, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss that sends your head reeling. He sits up and squeezes your thighs over and over, adoring the way your body feels in his hands. Soft and squishy and intoxicating. Licking your own thumb, you pinch and rub one of his nipples, making his mouth drop open. He didn’t even think of having his own nipples played with. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” he gasps. You praise him, Cum inside me, baby. You’ve been such a good boy for me. I want you to feel so good for me, okay? And he’s rutting his hips into you roughly, using your body for his own pleasure. You simply can’t get enough. You want him inside you forever and ever. “You’re…” he trails off. “You’re gonna make me cum, Mommy.”

“Go ahead. Cum for me.” Like it’s a command, his hips stutter and his cum fills you up, warm and sweet and heavenly. Swears and other inaudible words you hope are compliments spill out of his mouth. Falling forward, he digs his face into your neck once more, twitching until he comes to a stop, taking deep breaths. 

You expect a warm smile to echo his warm cum filling you up but he stays put. In fact, he doesn’t move or say anything for quite some time. So much time passes that his cock has slipped out of you on its own, his cum leaking down the swell of your ass. 

You finally break the silence, “Are you okay?” He nods awkwardly. “Look at me.” He shakes his head. “What’s wrong?” He still won’t budge. “Soobin, what’s going on?”

“I’m embarrassed,” he whines.

“Huh? About what?” 

“Calling you mommy,” he finally sits up. “I was just caught up in the moment—I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”

“Honey,” you giggle, sitting up with him. “I told you I liked it.” 

“You weren’t just saying that?”

“I don’t think I would’ve came that hard if I didn’t like it.” 

His eyes brighten before adding, “I guess so.” It genuinely was one of the strongest orgasms you’ve ever had. Surely, he has to know that, right? But wait— 

“Was it good for you?”

“Oh my god,” he’s finally relaxed a little, peppering your face with kisses. “That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had, I swear.” He stands, walking into his en-suite to get you a towel, damp with warm water. “So…” he starts awkwardly. “Should we, like, report this to the dean?” 

“Is that your way of asking me to be exclusive?” He blushes as you brush some of his hair behind his ear. “Because my answer is absolutely.” You press your lips together. “Although, can we hold off for a while? Just until next semester starts?”

“Be in our own little world for a bit?” He smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You’re taking a break until next semester, right? Are you working right now?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I got a bunch of scholarships to pay for school,” you say proudly. 

“Why am I not surprised?” 

“Because I’m the smartest person you know,” you say cheekily. 

“No lectures until next semester, so I’m pretty much free.” He smiles, clearly wanting to say something more, but bites his tongue. “Can I ask you something?” You nod. “This may be moving way too fast, but do you maybe wanna spend the holidays here? With me?”

The next few weeks are a whirlwind. Both of you admit it’s too fast. But neither of you care. The fireplace roars as you decorate his Christmas tree together, wrapped presents, baked cookies, everything you could think of that ooey-gooey couples do. 

And of course, nightly sex is a bonus. You simply can’t get enough of each other. And you just about lose it when you walk into the kitchen on Christmas morning. He’s standing at the counter wearing a Santa hat, flannel pajama pants, and a black tank top making your favorite tea. 

“Ah, there she is! Good morning,” he says with a smile. You take a plate full of chocolate chip waffles from him. But not before he kisses you. Cupping your cheek, he pulls you into perhaps the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had. You can feel his smile on your lips. 

And everything feels absolutely perfect. You think you may be dreaming, but he feels so very real at this moment. And his voice is clear as day, “Merry Christmas.” 

[rememberwren]

Dichotomy of Thought || 11

Past and further chapters here.

Simon and Johnny make up.

|| Chapter warnings: Anal fingering, anal sex, baby-trapping, medication tampering, medication control.

-

Your boyfriend manages your medications, a one-man pharmacy. 

Every morning the pills are waiting for you on the table in the foyer beside where you deposit your keys in the evening. There are two of them. 

The first is oblong, tan. Your boyfriend hoards and hides the bottle, but you’d fished the information pamphlet that came from the pharmacy out of the trash, and you know everything there is to know about it from that page jam-packed with text. Sertraline, 50mg. Otherwise known as Zoloft. Just swallowing the tasteless pill makes you remember the even darker days than the ones you’re living now, the ones that had led you to that waiting room with your boyfriend in the seat beside you waiting for a doctor to see you. How do I know if I’m depressed, you had asked the doctor, bold as anything even with your boyfriend’s hand on your knee, or if my life just isn’t worth living? 

You’d learned. By God, you’d learned. 

The other pill is your birth control. Round, sometimes blue, sometimes white, depending on where you are in your cycle. Today it is white and—

It looks—different. 

He wouldn’t, you think to yourself, thumb nudging at the pill in your palm, like seeing it from a different angle might jog your memory of it. He wouldn’t do that. A kid is the last thing he wants. He wouldn’t sacrifice his own freedom just to keep you trapped underneath his thumb. 

Except—wouldn’t he? 

“Hurry it up,” he says, yawning, like you kept him up late last night. “I want to go back to bed.” 

You try to take a picture of the pill in your mind before you drop it onto your tongue, taking a swig from your water tumbler, but your brain feels so scrambled that you forget it right away. You can’t even remember the color—had it truly been white, or had it been the pale sky blue of  robin’s egg?

It goes down like a lump of chalk. He makes you show him your empty mouth before he’s satisfied that you aren’t cheeking the pills, and then he kisses you and tells you to have a good day at work, honey. 

-

“Rooster wants you in his office,” Jackie says under her breath, helping you hurriedly clear one of your tables. You’re slow with the splint on your smallest finger, the throb of pain lancing all the way up your wrist each time you use the damaged hand. Jackie has been an angel in khakis picking up your slack. 

You wish that you had one of the pills that they’d given you in the emergency department. It hadn’t taken away all of the pain, but it’d made your head feel light and floaty and like you could care less if all your fingers were broken. Or maybe you wanted one of Johnny’s pills—the ones that put him in a peaceful sleep. You haven’t had such a thing in so long that you can’t remember when, even your moments of relaxation tainted until ‘rest’ is just waiting for the next act of violence. 

“What does he want?” you ask. 

“Probably to tell you about the raise,” she says. She rolls her eyes and twirls a fingers, mouth set in a grim smile of comradery. “Fifty cents. Writing home about it as we speak. Or maybe he wants to grill you about who keeps stealing from the registers—like we all don’t know it’s Ruth.” 

Fifty cents. You can’t even turn up your nose at it. Every penny is one that brings you closer to that apartment across town. With a promise that you’ll return as quickly as you can, you step off the floor (avoiding making eye contact with any customers who would happily sideway you for refills or to complain) and into the back of the house. It’s quiet back here, cooler. Rapping your knuckles against Rooster’s door, you wait. 

There’s no response, and no sign of him in the hallway. Some of the line cooks are coming in, filtering toward the break room to start their shift. You feel their eyes on you as you stand impotently outside the door. One of them says something to the other, and there is laughter, too loud and boisterous for the enclosed space. Your heart has begun to pound, sweat breaking out at the nape of your neck. 

“Hey,” one of them says to you. 

“Hi,” you mutter, forcing a smile, unable to make eye contact. 

Still there is no sign of Rooster from either end of the hallway—never would you have considered the short man your savior. Heart racing, you crack the door open and see that the office is empty. You slip inside, shutting the door safely behind you. 

The room is as self-important as you might imagine: a desk that seems too large for the space, filing cabinets in the corner. There’s a corkboard pockmarked with holes after years of use, and you drift over to it, too anxious to take a seat in the chair on the other side of Rooster’s desk. A calendar is posted there, Rooster’s neat handwriting here and there. 

Something catches your eye: LOCKER CLEANOUT marked for two weeks from now. 

It seemed like the last locker cleanout had just happened. You had only collected five hundred dollars back then, but it was far too much to want to explain to Rooster, and you had nowhere else to stash it that was safe. In the end, it had sat in an envelope under the driver’s seat of your car while Rooster took the week and went through each of the lockers to ensure compliance with the restaurant’s rules (all because someone used to have a penchant for leaving snack cakes in their locker leading to a bad case of ants that almost led to the restaurant being shut down). It had been the longest week of your life, like driving around with a live bomb underneath the front seat. 

Now you have nearly two thousand dollars. Where the hell were you going to put it? 

The door opens. Rooster looks at you suspiciously, eyes flickering between you and the calendar. 

“Next time, wait outside,” he says, stepping in and shutting the door behind him. It makes your skin crawl to be alone with him, even if he’s never done anything slimier than asking you to pull a double shift. You know the darkness that lies inside men. All men. 

“Sorry,” you mutter.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, taking his seat in a squeaky rolling chair behind the desk. His smile is a dismal, strained thing, like interacting with you is just as painful for him as it is for you. “Next time, just wait.”  

-

Johnny and Simon spend the day in bed. 

Johnny’s knee is propped up on a pillow, red and swollen. Simon lets his fingers hover over it, gentle, feeling the warmth of Johnny’s skin. Johnny winces, like even the brush of air against his knee hurts. 

“It looks infected,” says Simon. 

“It’s not.” It can’t be. Johnny can’t handle that—can’t handle the idea of having to go through the surgery on his knee again, the recovery, the way recovery is just synonymous with pain. No, it isn’t infected. “Just looks like that because he hit it.” 

Simon leans down and brushes his mouth against Johnny’s thigh. It’s meant to be sweet but—well. It’s the closest his mouth has been to Johnny’s cock in more than six months, and just the sight of it has Johnny’s heart skipping a beat and picking up again in double-time, his face growing flush. Not privy to Johnny’s thoughts, all Simon does is press a chaste kiss to the skin a few inches above where Johnny’s swelling starts—nevermind what else might be swelling now, too. 

The two of them lay entwined together, Simon curling up around him. He plants a hand on Johnny’s clothed chest, right over his heart, like he’s trying to remind himself that Johnny’s here. That Johnny’s alive. The look in his eyes is far away, mouth drawn down into a tight frown. All at once, Johnny’s downright sick of it—sick of them not having anything to smile about. Sick of fighting. 

Johnny takes Simon’s hand, laces their fingers, and guides it down. Down over his slim, firm belly, watching from the corner of his eye as Simon’s brows climb up his forehead. Down until their hands cup his half-hard cock. Simon’s hand shifts straight away, fingers curling around the solid length, thumb stroking up the side, the gentle rasp of his calloused fingerpad loud against the cotton of Johnny’s boxers. 

“You’re hurt,” Simon reminds him. 

“Don’t care.” 

“I do.” 

“We don’t have to fuck. I just—” he doesn’t know how to explain, how badly he needs to feel something good. How badly he needs to know that his connection with Simon isn’t ruined. How badly he needs to see that they’re still lovers, that Simon isn’t just his live-in caretaker. How badly Johnny needs to feel like a human being—like a grown man. He finishes, a little lamely: “I just need it.” 

Simon’s grip goes firm. Johnny’s eyes shut, mouth falling open at the sensation. He hasn’t even touched himself like this in weeks, and while he hadn’t necessarily been keeping track, his cock clearly has been. Simon seems content to go on like this, mapping the shape of Johnny’s cock through his boxers, thumbing over the head until a wet sticky spot appears in the cotton fabric, his hand sometimes drifting down to cradle the warm heft of Johnny’s balls. 

Johnny, usually impatient, contents himself with this torture. Let Simon tease him all day, if he’d like, until Johnny is liable to go off at the whisper of a touch. The thought has his cock jerking toward the warmth of Simon’s palm, and Johnny groans when his grip tightens. 

“Fucking pretty, aren’t you?” Simon mutters, his eyes on Johnny’s face.

Johnny snorts. He tosses his arm over his eyes, but beneath his arm, he’s grinning. “Shuddup.” 

Simon clicks his tongue. “Be good, Johnny. Let me look at you.” 

Johnny moves his arm and gives his grin room to breathe. His head feels light and airy as Simon sits up and helps him work his boxers down his thighs just far enough to draw his cock out. The first touch of skin on skin has him hissing a breath in through his teeth. Fuck, it’s good. Just as good as it always was—maybe even better, because he needs it so bad. 

“Want you inside me,” Johnny says on a whim, feeling the truth of it in his chest. He doesn’t just want it—he needs it. 

Simon leans down and kisses him, just a little too hard to be mistaken as anything but desperate. How long has it been for him, Johnny wonders. He spends every waking moment with Johnny except his perfunctory showers. Does he indulge then, between soaping and rinsing off, holding his breath to hide his sounds while he strips his cock with one slick hand? 

It takes some maneuvering to get Johnny on his side, knee nicely cushioned. He can’t reach back and touch Simon, can’t grip his hip and pull him in closer, and it’s just another reason to miss his arm. Because there are a hundred thousand touches Simon deserves that Johnny can’t give him anymore. 

They’re lucky for the shelf life of the lube. It warms Simon’s fingers as he works them past Johnny’s rim. He takes his time, hands shaking where they touch him. 

“Need it bad, huh?” Johnny wonders. 

Simon snorts but doesn’t deny it. Just curls his fingers searching for that tender spot inside Johnny’s ass that makes him grit his teeth. His cock drools onto the bedspread, red and throbbing with his heartbeat. By the time Simon slips inside him, chest to Johnny’s back, Johnny feels liable to go off at a moment’s notice. 

For all the time they haven’t fucked, Simon remembers everything: the way to touch Johnny,wrapping a strong arm around his chest to make up for the one Johnny lacks, fingers playing with the whorls of Johnny’s chest hair or teasing one of his nipples; the way to angle his hips to nail Johnny’s prostate. 

“Quit,” Johnny groans, shifting until the stimulation isn’t so good, so dead-on. His cock aches, balls heavy and tight. “I don’t want to cum yet. Don’t want this to be over.” 

“Can’t miss Johnny; dick’s too big.” 

Johnny guffaws. The sound nearly startles him—when was the last time he fucking laughed? With you in the park—but he doesn’t need to be thinking about you now, not you with your small, soft hands and the curve of your mouth…

“Fuck—touch my cock, please touch my cock—“ Johnny whines, body trembling. He’s right there, right fucking there, too close to go back now, fuck it all, he wants to cum. Simon’s strong fingers curl around his cock and strip it firmly, and the pleasure inside him bubbles up and over, left too long to simmer. He nearly headbutts Simon in the face, his body shaking and jerking and cum splatters against his belly and the bedspread and down over Simon’s fingers. 

“Just like that—so good, Johnny,” Simon murmurs. His pale hand grips at Johnny’s sharp hipbone, cum smearing against Johnny’s skin. “My turn.” 

Afterwards, Simon gently helps him undress and goes to get them both fresh clothes. Johnny’s knee throbs freshly just from his muscles tensing, but he barely feels it. For the first time since his accident, he thinks that maybe things will be okay. He has no arm—but so what? There are many with a lot less. He’s John fucking MacTavish. He can do this.

Simon has gone still at their closet, holding something in his hands. Johnny leans up on his elbows. 

“What is it?” he asks. “Did you find my lighter?”

Simon holds up with no preamble a skull-embossed balaclava. It’s worn, the fabric gone gray at its most threadbare spots, but the image imprinted on the front hasn’t faded.

“Blast from the past,” Johnny says, throat uncomfortably tight with an emotion he can’t name. “Thought you threw those out.” 

“Thought so too.” He doesn’t look eager to throw this one out though, his fingers tracing over the teeth, like he’s tracing the lipless mouth of a lover. 

“You miss it,” Johnny says, the glow of their sex fading rapidly. Of course Simon misses it. The military had been his entire life—until Johnny’s accident. Until Simon had discharged with him, to take care of him. Johnny hadn’t just blown apart his own life by going down in the helo in Kazakhstan, he had blown apart Simon’s life too. 

“No,” Simon says simply. “It’s not that.” 

Johnny frowns. “What is it, then?” 

“The night of the poker party—I was Ghost again. It was the only way I could…compartmentalize. Stomach it. I’d forgotten.” 

“Forgotten?”

Simon glances toward him. “Forgotten how useful Ghost could be.” Reaching up, Simon slips the balaclava over his head, adjusting it on instinct until it rests just right against the bridge of his nose. His hair is getting long, little blond strands visible, curling at the ends. 

“Now I want to fuck you again,” says Johnny, just to fill the air between them, and because sex used to be such an easy way to fill it. 

Simon doesn’t smile. 

“Johnny.”

“I was just teasin’—“

“Not that,” Simon says. Even his manner of speaking seems different, words clipped, tone short and no-nonsense. “What if I wanted to go visit our neighbor?”

The question lingers in the silence between them. Johnny swallows, the sound of his throat an audible click in the tense air. 

“You,” Johnny wonders, when he can speak again, “or Ghost?” 

Beneath the balaclava, Ghost smiles. 

[spicybutterfly]

Please Don't Eat Me!

What do you do when your longtime boyfriend turns into a werewolf right in front of you? Take off running of course!

❥ Pairing: werewolf!Jungkook x girlfriend!Reader ❥ Genre: fluff, angst, smut ❥ AUs: werewolf!au, college!au, established relationship!au ❥ Rating: M (18+)  ❥ Word Count: 12.3k  ❥ Warning/Tags: heavy angst, explicit language, explicit smut (way more than I intended), bratty reader, soft dom Jungkook, whiny Jungkook, oral sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), (female receiving), fingering, missionary, riding, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation  ❥ A/N: This was supposed to be posted on Halloween…oops. ;)

*Disclaimer all characters and events portrayed in my works are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.*

Copyright © 2024 Spicybutterfly

All Rights Reserved.

Thank you for reading!♡ 

The unexpected shrill chiming of your doorbell made you jump where you stood. Startled, you dropped the tube of a pretty pink lip gloss you’d just finished applying. It hit the tile floor beneath you with a firm smack before rolling away underneath the counter. 

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself, bending down as far as you could to feel the floor for your lipgloss tube. Your black, skin-tight shorts didn’t allow for much movement. Neither did your long-sleeve, baby-blue top. 

“A-ha!” You cheered victoriously as your fingers grazed the plastic tube. Thankfully the cap was already twisted closed, so there wasn’t a sticky mess everywhere. Swiftly, you grabbed the lipgloss. 

Just as you were standing back up into your previous position you felt two large hands work their way into the waistband of your shorts pulling you flush against a solid, muscled chest. You shrieked, jumping again, this time in excitement. Instantly, you recognized that firm chest anywhere.

You watched through the mirror as Jungkook began to stamp feather-light kisses along the side of your neck, nosing at your skin in between. Goosebumps bloomed all over your body from the ticklish gesture. He finished off his task with a big wet kiss on the apple of your cheek. 

No one would expect such soft gestures from your boyish boyfriend. Standing at nearly six feet tall, routinely dressed in all black, with a sleeve of tattoos and both ears adorned in piercings; Jungkook was the epitome of hardcore. That is on the outside at least.

No one was a bigger softie than your boyfriend. Your favorite nickname for him was ‘Koo’ for a reason. He was your big sensitive baby. 

You loved how he was never ashamed to show how much he loved you. He wasn’t the type to shy away from affection no matter where you were or who was around. There was no such thing as personal space when you were with Jungkook. 

“Koo,” you whined, doing your best to not mess up your makeup as you wiped away the wetness on your cheek. 

A mock gasp left your boyfriend's lips. He frowned, pulling his hands from your shorts to wrap his arms around your middle. “I thought you loved my kisses.” 

After putting down the tissue in your hands, you turned to face him. Leaning up on your tiptoes, you pecked away the pout on his lips. “I do love your kisses,” you grinned at his dissatisfied face. “Just not when they’re gross and wet.” 

His big doe eyes stared at you with a gaze so intense it had your body radiating with warmth. You remember when you first started dating you could barely even look at him. But not anymore. Gone were the days when you shied away from him, too timid and inexperienced to return his gaze. Instead, you peered right back at him, hoping he could feel the same love and yearning you had for him as he did you. 

“Hey,” he breathed, his big brown eyes drinking you in. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

It has been a few days since the last time you’ve seen your boyfriend. To many that would seem like nothing, but to you, it felt like an eternity.

 Since you two had started dating, being away from each other was an uncommon occurrence. 

You two had met through extraordinary circumstances. To make a long story short, he hit you in the face with a volleyball during gym class. You’d sustained a nasty nosebleed as a result. 

He was nearly in tears as he babbled out a flurry of apologies to you, but all you could focus on was how his muscles flexed underneath his gym shirt. You’d promised to forgive him if he’d carry you to the nurse’s office, and take you out for bubble tea after school. You’ve been inseparable since. 

With your nails, you scratched lightly at the nape of his neck - his favorite spot. Jungkook hummed in response, relishing in the feeling. You felt his arms unravel from around your middle, his hands making their way towards your hips. Effortlessly he lifted you from the ground, placing you on the bathroom counter behind you. You yelped as your skin made contact with the cold granite. Jungkook didn’t even give you a second to react before he fit his body between your legs, leaning down and slotting his lips together with yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, as you let yourself sink into the feeling. 

Before Jungkook, kissing was always a subpar experience for you. You wouldn’t say you hated it, but it was certainly not your favorite. You don’t miss the icky feeling of having a wet tongue unexpectedly shoved down your throat, your breasts roughly fondled (you’ve always had sensitive nipples), or your lips bitten to the point where blood was drawn. Like during a game of Spin the Bottle in seventh grade when your neighbor, Tony bit your bottom lip so hard it was bruised for the next two weeks. No one wanted to sit next to you at lunch. Damn you, Tony.

The buildup that came from kissing Jungkook was your favorite. There was just something so intimate about the way he always took his time with you. Like a dessert that needed to be savored because you just couldn’t get enough of it. 

Today though was different. Today he was fervent. 

Your hand traveled from his neck to his hair, your fingers gently tugging at the dark brown locks. Jungkook moaned into the kiss, pulling you closer so that your fronts were pressed together. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you pulled him in closer until you could feel the thickness of his bulge against your core. Your slick panties stuck uncomfortably to your sensitive skin. 

Your mouth opened in a sigh at the feeling of his thick bulge nestled against your heat. Jungkook used this opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips. You welcomed him instantly as the wet muscle caressed your own, begging for any sort of attention. Playing along with him, they embraced each other, dancing together in a routine that was all too familiar to the both of you. 

Pulling away with a gasp, you gulped down a few deep breaths of air. Gently you pushed your needy boyfriend away by his chest as he tried to chase your lips. His eyes were focused but somehow also dazed. As if in a trance, he attached his lips to your sweet spot between your ear and shoulder. 

“Koo,” you whined, your hands gripping the front of his button-down shirt. The cotton fabric bunched in your palms. You jerked as he began to mouth at the smooth skin. Your breath quickened as his teeth raked over the sensitive area. God how you wanted him to just pull his dick out and have his way with you right here. Unfortunately though, you already made a commitment to be somewhere and you’d be damned if the world didn't get to see how good you looked in this costume. 

“Baby we can't,” you gasped. “We’re already late.” You doubt Jungkook heard a single word you said. Instead, he took the time to languidly suck your skin into his mouth. With your eyes rolling back, your mouth gaped open around a silent moan. The thumping between your legs was too insistent to ignore. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to ease some of the pressure. 

After a minute Jungkook pulled away, finally satisfied with his work. His lips were slightly swollen from his ministrations. Out of breath, you slumped against the mirror behind you with a thump. The new bruise forming on your neck was tender in the best way. 

“There,” he whispered breathlessly. “Now we’re ready to leave.”

──•◦❥•◦──

Why the hell hadn’t you worn a jacket? Or even a cardigan at least. The thin material of your top did nothing to shield you from the nippy October weather. You cursed yourself for not grabbing something to put on your arms. 

 After being dropped off by your Uber, you and Jungkook decided to wait outside for your friends to arrive. They were supposed to only be a few minutes behind you, but obviously, that wasn’t the case because you’d been standing out in the cold for nearly fifteen minutes. God only knows what the hell they were getting into.

Gripping Jungkook's arm, you shivered as another gush of wind rushed through. Your boyfriend leaned down to kiss the top of your forehead. “Cold?”

You nodded, nestling up into his warm body. He gladly accepted you, wrapping his arms around your body. Instantly, you melted into his warmth. “Freezing,” you corrected, the chattering of your teeth subsiding. “Baby, let's just wait for them inside. Who knows how long it’s gonna take for them to get here.”

“Hobi just texted, he said they’re about two minutes away.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I guess I’ll just suffer.” 

Jungkook’s body shook as he laughed above you. “It’s not so bad. At least you’ve got your own personal space heater.” You smiled, leaning your head down to rest against his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat eased your nerves. Honestly, if you were sitting down you could probably fall asleep, which was a cherished rarity these days. After taking a gap year, you forgot about how taxing the school workload could be. A healthy work, home, and school life balance was nonexistent to you.

Frowning, something dawned on you. You peered up at Jungkook. He stood unaffected to the cold, watching as his fellow peers stumbled out of their cars towards the house. You flinched at the presence of another chilly breeze. Jungkook didn’t move an inch.  

“How are you not cold?”

 Looking down at his phone, Jungkook typed something out before pocketing the device. He shrugged. “I’m wearing pants.” 

“But you’re wearing short sleeves.” Jungkook watched as an orange maple tree leaf fell gracefully before you. It joined a pile of fallen leaves undisturbed on the ground. “I’m also wearing socks.” 

You sputtered. “Wha- Jungkook, that doesn't even make any sen-.” Just then a loud beep of a car horn interrupted you. You let out a shriek as you jumped, snapping your head towards the obnoxious sound. You were ready to flip them off before you saw the driver behind the wheel. 

Your annoyance melted away at the sight of  Hoseok’s impish grin. In the passenger’s seat was Lila, your best friend, and Hoseok’s girlfriends. She had her arm sticking out of the window, beaming as she waved at you. As soon as they parked you both made your way towards them.

“Hii,” Lila squealed, trotting towards you. With your arms wide open, you captured her in a hug, both of you squeezing tight. 

“What took you so long”, you pouted, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I was dying out here.” 

“I’m sorry,” she winced, pulling down her purple mini-dress. “I swear we were on the way, but then Hobi lost the ascot for his costume so we had to improvise. Speaking of,” she smiled as she did a 360 spin. She stopped with one hand on her hip and the other flinging a chunk of orange hair over her shoulder. 

“What do you think? Do I look like Daphne?”

 Your best friend was already gorgeous, but she looked stunning in her getup. Her usual long jet-black hair was now a muted orange. You assumed it to be a wig because it wasn’t that color when you two were on Facetime a couple of hours ago. There was a purple headband tucked neatly at the top of her head. The mini dress she was sporting did wonders for her modelesque physique. You always told her she could be a Victoria Secret’s angel. 

“You look so hot!” 

Smiling, she struck a pose, pointing the toe of her purple platform heel. “Thank you! You don’t look too bad yourself Officer Judy Hoops,” she smirked. 

You waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, this old thing?” Turning around, you wiggled your hips from side to side, making the cute little bunny tail shake behind you. “Found it in my closet.”

“Those too?” Smiling, she bit her bottom lip pointing towards Jungkook. He stood a few feet away conversing with Hobi. You assumed she was talking about the fox ears perched on his head. His costume was simple yet so effective. Who knew a green button-down shirt and a pair of khaki pants would make you want to drop your panties at any moment? You didn’t have a furry kink (that you were aware of) but damn he was the hottest Nick Wilde you’d ever seen.

“We borrowed those from my mom.”

 Laughing, your friend shook her head. “How the hell did you get them to wear those? It took until today for Hobi to agree to Fred.” She pouted, “Your boyfriend is better than mine.” 

You would never say this out loud but you agree. Not that you have anything against Hobi. He was one of your closest friends and you loved him dearly but your boyfriend was just better (this was completely unbiased of course).  

You rubbed your hands up and down your chilled arms. “It took a lot of convincing for him to dress up with me,” you lied through your teeth.

“Oh please,” your friend waved a dismissive hand. You have that boy wrapped around your finger. He’d do anything you asked.”

“Good,” you smirked. “That’s how I like 'em.” You were only joking though. The whole town knew you were just as whipped for Jungkook as he was for you.

You shivered at the feeling of a swift passing breeze. “Please let’s go inside, I'm freezing.” 

“Agreed,” she asserted. “Plus I can’t wait to see what their kitchen looks like. I heard they have marble countertops!” With your eyebrows raised you nodded, unable to contain the corners of your mouth curving upwards. You didn’t really care about the kitchen, you just needed to get out of this cold and into some heat.

You both made your way over to where the boys were standing. Lila greeted her boyfriend with a kiss on the cheek. Her pink lipgloss left a shiny stain on his skin. He smiled down at her, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

“Hobi, why don’t you love me as much as Jungkook loves _____,” she pouted.  His eyes widened as his mouth dropped open. 

“Huh?!”

You slipped yourself underneath your boyfriend’s arms, instantly engulfed once again by his warmth. “Ready,” he asked, his warm breath tickling the apple of your cheek. 

You hummed, “If we’re out here any longer I think my nipples are gonna turn into ice cubes.” 

Jungkook smirked. “We can’t have that now can we?”  His thumb traced soft circles onto the exposed skin between your shirt and shorts. Languidly, you shook your head, peeking up at him. “Maybe you could find a way to warm them up?” 

You blamed your horniness on Jungkook, he just had that effect on you.

He licked his lip. “I’m sure I could find a way.”

“Alright people,” Hobi called, breaking you out of your little moment. “ Let’s get fucked up!!” 

──•◦❥•◦──

“Not so fast, baby.” Your boyfriend gently pried the purple-tinted shot glass away from your eager lips.

“You're going to make yourself sick,” he chided, bringing a delicate thumb to wipe away the ticklish trail of vodka dribbling down the side of your chin. 

You swallowed down the rest of the clear liquid, accepting the familiar burn that followed. Immediately your face scrunched up in distaste. Though vodka was your drink of choice you’d never get used to that burning taste. 

Jungkook placed the glass on a nearby table. He chuckled at your grimace, leaning down to brush a kiss on the tip of your nose. “That’s what you get,” he grinned. “Where’d you even get that from?”

“Lila,” you sang, licking away any remnants of alcohol on your lips. 

“Figures.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you lightly pushed at his shoulder. “Whatever,” you muttered, swinging your body to the beat of the song. The floors beneath you vibrated with how hard the bass blared through the speakers. The playlist they had going wasn’t really your cup of tea. It reminded you of something they’d play in at a Renaissance Fair. You hadn’t recognized a single song in the couple hours you’d been here. But that didn’t bother you,  you were raised in a household that could get down to anything. 

Swaying your hips from side to side, you gripped the tie around your boyfriend’s neck. Your vision was slightly fuzzy around the edges, no doubt from the several shots and one full drink you’d inhaled once you’d arrived.

“Dance with me?” You purred before taking a step towards your boyfriend. You stumbled, seemingly tripping over an imaginary object, nearly falling face-first to the ground.

“Woah,” Jungkook grasped your hips, steadying your involuntarily swaying body. Your fingers grasped his arms tightly. In your chest, your heart thumped as they made contact with the veins in his arm. God, he was so hot. 

“I think that’s enough for you for tonight.” 

Your eyes widened, slightly glassy. “But m’ not even drunk!” 

He hummed unconvinced. “Yeah, but it won’t take you long to get there.” Jungkook pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the notification on the screen. “We have to leave soon anyway. I’ve got somewhere to be.”

A frown adorned your features before your tipsy mind could even think of stopping it. “You do?” This was news to you. “Where are you going?”

He avoided your eyes, opting to stare at the bunny ears perched on top of your head. He shrugged. “Somewhere. It’s no biggie.”

“Can I come too?” You hated how needy you sounded. You weren’t a clingy girlfriend at all. If anything, Jungkook was the clingy one. It's just for the past few weeks you’ve barely spent any time together and whatever time you did spend as a couple you were the one to initiate it. Just like tonight. Getting him to wear matching costumes might not have taken a lot of convincing sure, but getting him to come to this party did. He really put up a fight to not come here with you, only finally agreeing when you mentioned you would come with one of your guy friends. Possessive little shit. 

Jungkook reached out a hand to caress your chin. “Not this time, baby. I’m sorry.” 

You shook your head. “No, it's fine,” you assured, fingering the blue tie resting against his chest. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes. “We can leave now if you're ready. I think I’ve had enough for tonight.” Your gaze remained downcast as you swallowed away the lump in your throat. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was frowning. 

“You sure, baby? We can stay a little longer. I know you really wanted t-.” Before he could finish you shook your head once more, pushing his hand away from your face. 

“I’m kinda tired anyway.” 

You knew you didn't believe you. He damn near knows you better than you know yourself. You just weren’t in the mood for another argument. Lately, it seems as if that’s all you two ever did. Flirt, argue, fuck, argue some more, fuck again, and then right back to flirting.

You pulled your hands away from him. “Let me just say bye to Lila.” You didn’t wait for him to respond, instead, you left him standing there in search of your friend.

 Begrudgingly, you made your way through the sea of sweaty bodies, scanning the crowd for anyone sporting a purple mini-dress. Smoke emerging from the hidden fog machine made it difficult to see clearly. The tipsy crowd surrounding you cheered, as the intro of a familiar song began to play. ‘Listen to this track bitch!’ Of course they’d play the good music when you’re about to leave. 

Your journey was halted by a tall, burly body dressed in a football uniform stepping in front of you. You jerked, taking a step back to allow space between you two. The urge to roll your eyes consumed your whole being as soon as you recognized who it was. 

Elijah stood before you, with a cold beer clasped in his right hand. The arrogant asshole didn’t even bother to put on a proper costume.

 He yelled your name, grinning widely. You didn’t have time to react before he was wrapping himself around you in a one-sided hug. You cringed at the feeling of his sweaty body pressed against yours. His left hand rested dangerously low on your lower back. You pushed him away with a hand on his chest, separating yourself from him. 

“Hey, I didn’t know you would be here!” That was a lie. He’d heard you and Lila talking about attending this party earlier today in class. He’d even expressed how he’d be coming too, even though no one asked.

“I could’ve sworn you heard me say I was coming earlier.” Your mind wasn’t sober enough to care about sparing his feelings especially since he just wouldn’t take a hint. I mean, how many times do you have to reject someone for them to understand? 

“Oh, right,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I forgot.” You nodded, unamused. “Anyway, I’m glad to see you.” 

You couldn’t say the same.

“Like my costume?” He flexed his biceps, the muscle jumping at the action. There wasn’t a stirring in your belly like your boyfriend did it. In fact, it had quite the opposite effect. “Your football uniform doesn’t count as a costume.”

“Ehh, the ladies love it, so who cares.” What ladies was he referring to? You would never know.

 He tilted his head towards a group of people dancing, or as your grandmother would say, gyrating in the living room. “Wanna dance with me?” He shimmed from side to side, biting his bottom lip. You couldn’t decide if he was in pain or if he was trying to be sexy. You’d had enough of this conversation.

“Elijah, I have a boyfriend. You do know that, right?” 

He nodded, shrugging his shoulders. “What, your boyfriend doesn’t let you have friends?” You scuffed. What a played-out line. 

“I have to go,” you deadpanned, moving around him. “So, I’ll see you later,” you heard him call behind you.

You didn’t bother to turn around. “You won’t!”

 If you were in a bad mood before, you were certainly in an even worse one now. The audacity of him! When would he get it through his thick skull that you did not like him?! He better be thankful that you wouldn’t allow your boyfriend to beat him up. He’s been itching to do that ever since he found out about Elijah’s persistent crush on you. 

You weren’t surprised to find your bestfriend in the kitchen. The culinary student always seemed to wind up there whenever you were at some sort of event hosted at a house.

She stood at the counter, swaying he hips to the beat of the song as she made another biter-tasting drink. Because her back was facing the doorway she didn’t see you come in.

“Lila.”

“Hey,” she chirped, turning around. “You ready for an-,”. At the first sight of your facial expression she frowned, putting down the red solo cup and a bottle of Tequila. “What’s wrong?” 

“We’re leaving,” you rubbed your lips against each other. The motion was a bit dull as most of your lipgloss has either dried up or been licked away. “Apparently Jungkook  has somewhere to be.” 

Lila frowned, her eyebrows nearly touching. She tapped her phone awake. “At 2:30 in the morning?” You didn’t respond. “ _____, that’s sketchy.” 

“I know.” Your voice shook as you tried to explain. Maybe you were more drunk than you thought.

 “And he won’t even,” you took in a deep quivering breath. “He won’t even tell me where he’s going.” You blinked up at the ceiling, attempting to keep your tears at bay. “He always does this to me. Everything will be good and then out of nowhere, he gets distant. Then I don’t hear from him for days.”

 Your fingers picked at a stray hair on your sweater. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh honey,” your friend engulfed you in her arms. “How long has he been doing this?”

You pulled away, wiping away the tears you didn’t realize were now flowing from the corners of your eyes. “Since we’ve been dating.” 

Your friend gasped at your admission. “_____, it’s been three years!” 

“I know!” Bringing both hands up to cover your face you groaned aloud. Certainly, no one could hear you with how loud the music was. 

How ridiculous this whole situation must seem- crying over your boyfriend in a stranger’s kitchen dressed as a police officer bunny with Kendrick Lamar blaring over the speakers all while barely sober enough to stand. Gotta love being in your early twenties. 

“So then he needs to fucking explain himself! Or at least tell you where he’s going.” 

“I-,” Before you could finish your phone vibrated from your back pocket. Pulling it out you down at the device. You couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes at the contact name on the screen. “I should probably go.” You turned the phone around, showing your friend the screen of Jungkook calling you. 

She scuffed as you shoved your phone back into your pocket. Lila pulled you into another hug. “Please keep me updated. Don’t let him walk all over you like this. You need to stand up for yourself.” 

Oh trust, this was definitely going to be addressed and it would most likely lead to another stupid argument. 

You found Jungkook standing exactly where you left him. His jaw was clenched, both hands resting in his pockets. With the way they bulged, you could tell they were clenched into fists. What was his problem?

His eyes were fixed on you the entire time, never looking away. Jungkook exhaled before speaking. “Why do you smell just like him?”

“Huh? Like who?”

“Elijah,” he asserted.

“How do you even know what he smells like?” 

“Doesn’t matter. Is that what took you so long?” Wait was he seriously mad at you right now? “Why are you being so rude to me?” 

Jungkook didn’t respond. He stuck his hand out for you to take. “We should go. Our Uber is outside.” You didn’t spare him a single glance as you walked right past him towards the front door, him hot on your heels.

──•◦❥•◦──

Thank god this Uber had a functioning heater. You swear you were starting to feel the beginnings of hypothermia biting at your toes.  You’d never take a jacket for granted again.

The atmosphere inside of the car was awkward and stuffy. Though not because of the heater or the Uber driver’s questionable taste in podcasts. Without a doubt, he was certainly an attendee of those anti-women’s rights rallies that are always held downtown. A major downside of living in a small, religious town. He wasn’t getting rated five stars. 

Neither Jungkook nor you have spoken a word to each other since you left the party. There was nothing left for you to say to him. Jungkook remained firm on not giving you any details about his plans. No matter how much you probed for the answers he remained vague. 

So you gave him the silent treatment. 

You knew it was juvenile but you couldn't help but feel that maybe he deserved it. After all, why should you respond to anything if he can’t even answer a simple question? Maybe now he would know how it feels to be ignored. 

Beside you Jungkook sighed deeply, breaking the awkward momentary silence in the car. You heard him shifting in his seat, his knee brushed against yours as he turned his body towards you. You could feel him staring at the side of your face but you were still too pissed off to even acknowledge him.

 He placed his hand on your knee, caressing the exposed skin. “I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you earlier. I was wrong and you didn’t deserve that. I’m also sorry we had to leave early, I promise I’ll make it up to you, baby.”

Whatever. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you continued scrolling through reels on Instagram. You stopped on a video tutorial of how to wax your brows at home. You were long overdue for a maintenance day. 

“Are you seriously not going to talk to me?” Silently, you skimmed through the comments. 

From the front seat, your driver cleared his throat. You would feel bad for making him uncomfortable in his own car if it wasn’t for the bullshit, misogynistic podcast playing in the background. Just because the volume was low doesn't mean you couldn’t hear it.  

You ignored your boyfriend as he called your name. Jungkook scuffed, shaking his head. “Unfuckingbelievable,” he growled. 

Your neck nearly snapped with how fast you turned towards him. If Jungkook was a stranger, the look on his face would have scared you. His eyebrows were pulled together into something furious, and the way his lips were downturned almost appeared…painful. You’ve never seen him look so angry before. But you knew your boyfriend and you knew he wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you. So your attitude remained. 

“Is there something you need to get off your chest?” 

The tension in his brows loosened. Restlessly his tongue probed the inside of his cheek, replacing the frown. The anger in his features was still present, just not as intense as before. 

Subconsciously your eyes followed the indentation. Something stirred inside you. You might be furious but you weren’t blind. He looked sexy as hell when he did that. 

“You are such a fucking child sometimes,” he hissed. Reaching up, he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, snatching off the fox ears in the process. 

You frowned, scuffing. “Excuse me?” 

“You know, I am so sick of your shit!” Jungkook's voice rang out within the car. Stunned you gasped. You’ve had arguments before but Jungkook has never talked to you like that. He’s never even raised his voice at you. Where was all of this coming from?

“Throwing a fucking tantrum because I didn’t tell you where I’m going. What, do you need an alert for when I’m taking a shit now too? Would that satisfy you? Newsflash _____, I don’t need to tell you everything about my life. You’re not my fucking mother.” 

A heavy silence hung in the air.

The car halted at a red light. The tires screeched loudly at the sudden stop. The both of you jerked forward in the backseat. Instinctively you reached your hand out to prevent your face from smacking into the passenger’s seat in front of you. At the same time, Jungkook's arm shot out across your frame, halting you from moving any further. Your eyes burned with unshed tears. With your phone gripped in your hand, you gnawed at your bottom lip to keep it from wobbling or any unwanted sounds from escaping. 

A quick look through the car windows showed you were a short distance away from your house. To your right, you recognized the trail that led into a small densely packed forest. You’d taken this trial countless times before as a shortcut from your house, to the inner city, and back. Only that was in the daytime when it was bright and sunny and there were people out. Now it was ten minutes till three in the morning. You’d seen not one single person out on the streets since you made it back to the outskirts of your town. You were for damn sure there was no one in the forest either. 

At least you hoped. 

Against your better judgment, you pulled the lock back on the car door before throwing it open. 

“Um, ma’am?!” You heard your Uber driver yell as Jungkook called after you right before you slammed the car door shut. Your body was instantly overtaken by the cold again. Why the fuck didn’t you wear a jacket?! 

The sound of your shoes smacking against the pavement as you trudged across the quiet street, was booming. You approached the eerie trail with a quickness, hoping Jungkook wouldn’t follow behind you. That hope was quickly diminished however when the slamming of a door and a car speeding off came from behind you. You marched further into the thick forest, following the worn dirt trail. The dull street light at the start of the trail only offered a few meters of illumination. During the day you didn’t need to worry about how you would see as the sun was always out. Now replaced by the moon, darkness loomed over the tall trees and thick shrubbery that bordered the trail. 

 Crunching leaves filled the silence around you as Jungkook finally caught up with you. “Are you insane? That was so ridiculous?!” 

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Jungkook gripped your hand, turning your body to face him. That nasty glare was present on his face again. Your heart skipped a beat. 

You snatched your hand away, “Don’t fucking touch me!” 

You turned to complete your walk back, but you weren’t done. Your anger was back in full force and you demanded answers. Facing him fully again, you pointed an accusatory finger at him. “How dare you? How dare you fucking speak to me that way, Jungkook?! All because I asked you a question? A question that I as your girlfriend deserve an answer to.”

He chuckled bitterly, rolling his eyes. “Cut the theatrics, _____. I’m over it.” He checked the time on his phone again. “Let’s go. It’s getting late.”

You scuffed, shaking your head. “No, I’m not going anywhere with you.” Was he insane? With the way he was acting, he was lucky you didn’t dump his sorry ass right there. 

His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. Bringing both hands up, he gripped his brown locks so hard you thought he would tear his hair out. 

“Why do you have to make things so difficult?” He groaned out bent over at the waist. Jungkook stood up straight again, staring you dead in the eyes. A cold chill ran down your spine. “Let’s. Go. I have somewhere to be.” 

“Where?” You were standing toe to toe with him.

“It doesn't matter, we need to go. Now.”

“No!”

“I’m serious, _____ we-.”

“Fuck you Jungkook, I’m not going!” Too focused on being stubborn, you missed the way Jungkook’s body twitched involuntarily. With his eyes closed he sucked in a deep breath. “Baby, you have to g-.” Another twitch. “No! I’m not going until you tell me.”

He called your name again. “Baby, please you need to- you have to-” 

“I’m not! Where are y-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” You jumped, and your eyes widened in shock. The distant squawk of crows flying away echoed in the background. Stunned, you watched silently as Jungkook collapsed to his knees, panting. Both of his hands gripped the ground in front of him, his knuckles white with how tight he was holding on. You flinch as what sounded like bones snapping filled the chilly air. Piercing groans and gasps of pain escape Jungkook's open mouth. His body twitched and jerked in various directions. 

The feeling of your heart hammering in your chest made you feel nauseous. What the fuck was going on?!

With one final gasp of air, he stopped, and you were once more surrounded by that haunting stillness. You wrapped your arms around yourself again. You didn’t even notice the cold anymore. 

You took a cautious step towards your panting boyfriend. “Koo,” you called, your voice trembling. You took a few more crunching steps until you were right in front of him. “Baby? Are you okay?”

Slowly he lifted his head, revealing himself to you. You gasped, your breath hitching in your throat. With eyes as wide as saucers, you brought both of your hands up to cover your mouth.

Long, sharp fangs replaced the canine teeth in his upper and lower jaws. His beautiful, brown boba eyes - one of your favorite parts about him- were gone, in its place were piercing deep golden eyes that were locked on you. Thick dark brown fur began penetrating through his skin, covering the rest of his blemish-free face to the rest of his body. Gone was your boyfriend as you knew him, in his place was something inhuman!

In a steady voice, a cross between human and ferocious, he whispered out  a gravely, “Run.”

You didn’t have time to think or to even scream in terror. Before your mind could even register you were fleeing down the dirt path towards your house. Your feet pounded the uneven ground beneath you. The light from the streetlight has now completely faded. The only illumination came from above you, the brilliant face of the moon exposed. Jungkook screamed out once more, a thundering shout before it ended in what sounded to you like a wolf’s howl. 

The heavy thumping of footsteps picked up from behind you. What sounded like two eerily turned into four, running at a speed that was inexplicably fast. You heard the beast growl right behind you. It was so hot on your tail that you felt like it could reach out and grab you at any moment. Just up ahead you could see the end of the trail. You could cry in relief.

Your comfort was only short-lived. Before you could take another step forward, the front of your right shoe got caught on a sizable rock. It felt like your world was moving in slow motion as you were totally knocked off balance. Reaching both arms out in front of you, you braced yourself for your inevitable fall. Your body hit the solid ground with a hard smack, your right ankle twisting painfully in the process. You were so close. You were almost free.

Only then did you scream. 

Clutching your right ankle, you gasped down deep breaths of air. Sharp pain traveled hotly throughout your body. “Fuck,” you wailed, your vision blurry with tears. The blood rushing in your ears made it hard to hear anything, the world around you almost wholly muffled. The presence of a wolf was unknown to you until you heard it huff out an exhale. The horrifying creature stood at least eight feet tall on all fours. It was covered entirely in thick burnt umber fur. Drool leaked from its opened mouth, like gooey honey oozing off of a honey dipper. Its piercing golden eyes were trained solely on you. The creature slowly made its way towards you. 

You gasped, scooting backward on your feet and hands until the pain in your ankle was unbearable. The burning in your lungs was incessant with each breath you sucked down. Before you, the wolf huffed another exhale. He was so close now you could feel its warm breath tickling your face. Its teeth were bared like it was ready to bite. Leaning its head down, his long snout nosed its way between your neck and shoulder. Pushing your head up, it sniffed harshly at your skin. You closed your eyes, just waiting for the moment it decided to attack. 

“Plea-se,” you begged, your voice cracking at the end. You heaved as your entire body trembled in fear. “Please don’t- don’t hurt me.”

The wolf leaned away from you. There seemed to be a glint of recognition in his eyes. You had to be losing your mind. 

He huffed again, sitting back on his hind legs. You wanted to scream as it released another deafening howl. Then, just like magic, it was gone as if it was never there in the first place. 

Your boyfriend sat naked in its place. A look of horror was written all over his face. He brought both hands up to cradle your face. You jumped at the sudden action. For a split second, he looked slightly wounded but then the concern was back. 

 “Baby! Are you okay?!” Gently his thumbs whipped away the tears staining your cheeks. Each of your hands wrapped around his wrists. You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?!” He checked you frantically, looking for any signs of injuries. You were speechless, the only thing you could do was heave breathlessly into the cool open air. 

“Baby please,” he pleaded. “Say something, breath!” There was a steady ringing in your ears. Jungkook’s mouth was closing and opening as if he was speaking to you, but you couldn’t hear anything. Everything was silent. The corners of your vision were obscured by an approaching darkness. You blinked rapidly to try and keep yourself alert until it consumed you completely.

──•◦❥•◦──

Drowsily, your eyes blinked open. Your vision was still fuzzy around the edges as you took in your surroundings. The room was dark but familiar. It didn’t take you long to realize that you were inside your bedroom. Somehow you must have made it home. You looked down at yourself. And changed clothes? Except your bra was still on. It was uncomfortably snug on your skin. There was a reason you never slept with a bra on. With ease you unhooked the clasp, placing it on the bed beside you.

You threw the thick blankets and duvet completely off of you, body all too warm now. There was an incessant pounding in your head. Groaning, you brought your hand up to clutch at the aching spot. There was a dull ache in your right ankle.

“Baby,” a delicate voice called from the corner of your room. It was Jungkook. “Are you awake?” Suddenly, the memories of what happened came rushing back to you. 

Your boyfriend turned into a fucking werewolf right in front of you and nearly attacked you. 

With a hammering heart, you scooted backward until your back came in contact with your headboard. He approached the side of the bed you were on cautiously, sitting down gently in the open space in front of you. His big brown orbs were back but were now swimming with sadness at the sight of you drawing your knees into yourself. 

He nibbled at his bottom lip. “There’s some pain reliever and a glass of water on your nightstand.”

 A moment passed before you reached for the pill bottle and water. You didn’t take your eyes off of Jungkook the entire time. He looked disheveled. His previously neat hair was a mess like he’d been running his fingers through it constantly. His eyes were glossy and red-rimmed. You doubt he’d gotten any sleep. Gone was his Nick Wilde costume. You assumed it was destroyed during the transformation. He was now sporting a plain black tee and matching sweats. 

You didn’t realize how parched you were until you were gulping down the rest of the room-temperature water. A few dribbles of water escaped your lips, trailing down your chin. With the back of your hand, you wiped your mouth, catching your breath. Jungkook took the empty glass from you, placing it back on the nightstand. For a while, the room was still. Neither of you decided to break the silence first. To be honest, you didn’t know what to say.

“Are you afraid of me?” 

The immediate short answer was no. There wasn’t anything in this world that could make you afraid of your boyfriend. He was the absolute love of your life. You knew he would never do anything to hurt you intentionally.

You were however afraid of what he was capable of. He was a literal werewolf! If he wanted to he could tear you into pieces. What if he didn’t recognize it was you? What would have happened then? You couldn’t help those questions swimming through your mind. “I don’t know.” His head dropped down as his eyes closed. 

It was silent for another moment. “Since when?” 

Jungkook shook his head confused. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. 

You continued. “Since when don’t we tell each other everything?” You swallowed thickly, referring to earlier in the night. You couldn’t help the emotion that trembled through your voice. “Why would you keep this from me, Jungkook? For so long.” 

He looked away from you. His eyes danced around the room before he responded. “I don’t know, I just-. I wanted to keep you safe.”

You couldn’t help the fury building inside of you. “You call that keeping me safe! You almost killed me!” Using both of your arms you gestured towards your bedroom window. 

“What!” 

Jungkook shook his head frantically. “I wasn’t going to hurt you. Baby, I would never! I knew it was you. Please believe me I would never hurt.” His eyes pleaded with yours, begging for you to believe him. And you wanted to so badly, but he’d already hurt you just not physically.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.” He shook his head. “I was trying to leave. I was- I was going to drop you home and then I-I was…” he trailed off looking everywhere except at you.

“You were going to shift,” you finished for him. Wordlessly he nodded. 

The room was silent again with the occasional squeak from your ceiling fan. In front of you, Jungkook sighed.

 “You know,” you started, your boyfriend looking up at you. “This whole time I thought that I did something wrong.” You scrunched a chunk of your duvet beneath your fingertips. “I just couldn't understand what was wrong. I mean you were so hot and cold with me, it was jarring.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I thought that maybe you were getting tired of me or something…maybe even seeing someone else.” Sighing, you slowly released a breath you weren’t even aware you were holding. 

It felt amazing to finally get that off your chest, to finally express how you were truly feeling, and to have him listen. 

Your gaze was trained downward. You weren’t looking at anything specifically, you just wanted to avoid his eyes - something you hadn’t done in years. 

Jungkook gasped quietly. “_____, I would never,” he pleaded, his eyes borrowing into yours. 

Rapidly you nodded your head. “I know,” you sniffled. “I just…I didn’t know what to think. You left me in the dark Jungkook.”

 Firmly, he grasped both of your hands in his. “Baby, look at me.” Your gaze remained downcast. He gently squeezed your hands in his, urging you to look at him. “Please.” When your eyes met his, your breath nearly hitched. He was looking at you with a soft longing. The pure adoration for you swimming in his eyes was undeniable. Gone was the anger and frustration. This was your Jungkook.

“I would never-,” he shook his head. “I could never. Baby, you mean everything to me. You are my entire world.” Gently with his thumbs, he wiped away your salty tears. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I scared you and I’m so sorry if you ever felt I didn’t love you because that is the furthest thing from the truth. You are the love of my life; the best thing that has ever happened to me. I am so infatuated with you that I don’t know how to live without you.” 

The tears blurring your vision threatened to spill as you listened to the words of your boyfriend. “Please understand that none of this is your fault. This is all because of me. I failed to communicate with you properly and I’m sorry. _____, I’m sorry.” Jungkook stared at you, desperately waiting for you to respond with something, anything. 

You said nothing. Instead, you cradled his face in your hands, bringing his lips to meet yours. You believed him—of course you did—and hoped he could feel everything you wanted to say. 

 You pulled away with a faint smack. “Is this okay?” you whispered, desperately searching his eyes for an answer. Taking a page from your book, he remained silent, swifty reattaching his lips to yours. His usually pillowy-soft lips were slightly chapped but still felt like heaven against yours. Immediately, all the stress and worries began to wash away.

He responded eagerly to the kiss, scooting closer to you and wrapping his arms around your middle. Effortlessly, he pulled you into his firm lap. Your hands curled into his cotton shirt instinctively. 

You pulled your hands from his shirt to tangle one in his hair, the other scratching gently at the nape of his neck. Jungkook sighed against your mouth, his breath tickling your chin. His mouth moved against yours tenderly, 

For a moment, you two savored the kiss, basking in each other's warmth and presence. Content sighs and soft moans escaped the both of you filling the air around you. 

Your mind was blank and fuzzy; filled with nothing but Jungkook. The way he smelled- clean with a slight hint of cologne, how gently he was kissing you, how much he loved you, the way his body fit perfectly against your own. 

The kiss was so innocent, soft, and gentle, yet your panties grew slicker with each second that passed. Beneath you, you could feel that your boyfriend was just as affected. He had been grinding his semi against you for several minutes now, pressing your damp panties into your sensitive, eager bud. It was so delicate, you were sure he had to be doing it subconsciously. 

Slowly you pulled away, opening your eyes. As he gazed at you, the dreamy look in his eyes sent pleasant tingles throughout your body. How this boy still managed to give you butterflies after years of being together is beyond you. 

“Koo,” you whispered, finger curling around a lock of his luscious hair. You couldn’t take your eyes off of his kiss-swollen lips. Slowly you ran a thumb over his bottom lip as you bit your own. 

“Hmm?” His hands continued their journey up and down your sides. Mind still clouded with all things Jungkook, it took a moment for your brain to formulate your thoughts into a coherent sentence.

 “I want you.”

His breath hitched as his hands stopped momentarily. You could see his features darken right before you. A glint of mischievousness shone in his eyes. With an arched brow, his hands continued their journey. “Yeah? Are you sure that’s what you want, pretty?” 

You shuttered at the nickname. “Please,” you begged, all shame and self-respect now completely thrown out the window. “I want you to fuck me.”

You took his hands into yours, guiding them to your supple breasts. He wasted no time, instantly fondling the squishy mounds in his large palms. You sighed as his thumbs deliberately brushed against your hardened nipples, begging to be released from the confines of your cotton shirt.

 You purred, “I need you, baby. Don’t you want me too?” 

The look in his eyes was damn near feral. “Always,” he rasped, pinching the stiffened peaks between his thumb and pointer fingers. You gasped, your brows pinching together in pleasure. “I always want you. Fuck, I can never get enough of you.” He pressed his mouth upon yours, pulling you into a searing kiss. Teasingly, he pulled away leaving you to chase after his lips.

 “Koo,” you whined, gripping his shirt to reconnect your lips. He tsked, capturing both of your wrists into his grasp.

 “Don’t be greedy,” he tutted, leaning down to kiss away the pout on your lips. “I always give you what you need.” He let go of your wrists, and with his other hand, you felt him tug at the bottom of your t-shirt. “Take this off.” 

Without a second wasted you peeled the fabric from your body, casually tossing it somewhere beyond your line of sight. With your bare chest now exposed to the cool temperature in your bedroom, goosebumps blossomed all over your skin. 

Jungkook leaned down to nose between the valley of your breasts. You giggled as he sniffed at your skin, brushing his hair away from his face “You’re such a weirdo.” 

You felt him smile against you. “Can’t help it, literally,” he chuckled inhaling deeply. “Plus you always smell so fucking good.” You hummed, fingers raking through his hair. It must be a part of his wolfie instincts.

 Your eyes fluttered shut as he began to pepper kisses all around your breasts, always just missing where you needed him the most. Once he was satisfied with his work, Jungkook finally wrapped his lips around your awaiting nipple. Your mouth dropped open around a moan as your head lulled back. He groaned at the feeling of your hand tightening in his hair. His skilled fingers tweaked your other nipple, ensuring it received the same amount of attention.

“Fuck, Koo,” you shivered, your free hand reaching down to grip his length. He always took such good care of you, you wanted to make him feel good too. Now completely erect, it stood at its full potential, tenting his sweatpants. He was rock hard and so damn thick you couldn’t wrap your hand around him completely. Even through the material of his sweatpants, you could feel the prominent veins running along his shaft. He certainly wasn’t wearing any underwear. Your mouth watered. 

Jungkook scowled, just as if he had eaten something delicious, groaning around a mouth full of your breast. He released your nipple with a wet pop. “Feels good baby,” he rasped. 

Within the next second your back collided with the plushness of your mattress. You shrieked, hands shooting out to steady yourself. 

“Can’t wait to be inside you,” Jungkook smirked from above you. He then pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him. Slowly, your eyes raked over your boyfriend, taking a moment to fully appreciate the view before you. You never thought you had a type, but god Jungkook was everything you never knew you needed in a man. 

Tiny sporadic beads of sweat gathered along his skin. They looked like diamonds dancing in the moonlight that peeked through your curtains. His body always ran warmer and after the events of tonight, you understand why. His sleeve of tattoos decorated his skin beautifully, a far better accessory than any piece of jewelry could ever be. Concealing a moan behind a bitten lip, you watched as the muscles in his beefy arms jumped as he pulled down his sweatpants, freeing his length. Your pussy fluttered at the sight; it was just as beautiful as the rest of him. 

The first time you and Jungkook had sex you were afraid he wouldn’t fit inside of you. He was so long and thick it almost seemed unreal. Though with the proper prep, you were able to take him, and let's just say no one had ever made you cum from just penetration before.

His dick rested on his tummy, standing tall and flushed. He was so hard it almost looked painful. His mushroom tip glistened with pre-cum. You desperately wanted to swallow it all up.

 You sat up on your elbows, your own eyes clouded with lust. “May I have a taste?”  

You almost moaned aloud as Jungkook gripped his dick in his hand, giving himself two long strokes making sure to flick his wrist at the tip. You caught a glimpse of his beautiful scowl before his head dropped forward, his abs flexing in pleasure. 

“Fuck,” you heard him chuckle breathly giving himself one final squeeze. He shook his head. Slowly he lifted his head, his wavy bangs falling over his eyes. Your heart lurched in your chest. He pulled you to the edge of the bed, settling in front of your open legs.

“Me first,” he smirked and you knew you were fucked. 

No one in the world could eat pussy like your boyfriend. He was the definition of an eater, always so eager to deliver the most pleasure possible. Sometimes you thought he enjoyed it more than you did. 

After delivering one successful orgasm to you with his mouth, he had you teetering on the edge of another. 

The echos of his efforts bounced off of the walls around you. He worked his fingers diligently inside of you, alternating between thrusting and scissoring them apart. The soppy sounds flowing from your cunt had you flushed all over. But you were far too close to cumming to be embarrassed. Languidly he swirled his tongue around your clit whilst both of his digits massaged your inner walls thoroughly. Your walls fluttered around his fingers, sending another gush of your arousal to coat his hand. Unshed tears began to gather along your lash line. 

“Jungkook,” you mewled wetly, eyes slamming shut as your back arched off of your bed. You licked at your lips, now dry from how hard you breathed through your open mouth. “Koo, baby I’m so close!” Jungkook moaned around you, sending a delicious stream of vibrations through your pussy. 

A steady smacking rhythm from below you caught your attention. It sounded wet and sloppy. Was he…? You gasped looking down to confirm your wicked thoughts. Through your blurry vision, you were rewarded with the sight of Jungkook fisting his veiny cock to the same rhythm he was fingering you. With each upward stroke, a trail of pre-cum dribbled from his tip onto his fingers. Oh how bad you wanted them in your mouth.

His tongue laved up slowly through your folds, the wet muscle flicking at your clit gently in the end. “So fucking good,” he muttered against you, almost to himself. Just as he reached down to fondle his balls, he sucked your clit wholly into his mouth.

Your hips canted up, pushing yourself further into the pleasure. Firmly holding you down, he croaked his fingers up, directly massaging the spongy area that had you seeing stars. Still attached to you, Jungkook groaned as your fingers tangled tighter in his hair. He pulled away from your pussy, his reddened lips and chin glistened with your arousal. “That feels good, pretty?” 

You nodded rapidly, as your breath hiccuped. “Uh-huhh~! Gonna make me come, baby.”

“Yeah?” His wrist was now snapping against you, fingers curling with precision to repeatedly stroke against your g-spot. “Make a mess for me baby. Show me how beautiful you are when you come.”

There was an incessant pressure building and building in the pit of your stomach. Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan as your face scrunched in pleasure. Your back bowed as Jungkook delivered one last stroke against that spot, so good that it sent you right over the edge.  Your walls fluttered around him, sucking his fingers in with a vice grip.

You came with a strangled shout, a slurred mess of what was supposed to be his name as your toes curled in the bedsheets. “Fuck! Koo-uhn!”

But he wasn’t done with you yet. His insatiable hunger couldn’t be sated until you were writhing, gasping for breath underneath him. He wanted you to be so dizzy with pleasure that you couldn’t remember your own name. He wanted to ruin you. He wanted it- no he needed it. He needed it so fucking bad. 

Somehow, he sucked at you harder, pushing your hips into the bed. Your body trembled, completely helpless to the overstimulation you were receiving. Inside, his fingers didn’t slow their pace, still plunging into your sopping cunt. His tongue, soaked with his saliva and your essence, rubbed figure eights into your aching clit. You hiccuped out moan after babbled moan, no longer able to properly articulate a single word.

 “One more pretty, give me one more. Please? Can you do that for me?” This man was trying to kill you. You were literally being eaten alive by your boyfriend, the irony. 

Like ferocious waves crashing onto a sandy beach, your orgasm wracked through you. The air was completely knocked out of your lungs. You were unable to make a single sound, as your mouth fell open. You thought you must’ve looked like a mad woman with your eyes rolled back and your back arched completely off of your bed. Though to Jungkook, you couldn't look more beautiful. With your hair fanned out around, heavy breasts jiggling as you gasped for breath, your skin glimmering from a thin sheen of sweat, the blissed-out expression on your face - you were a sight to be marveled at.

 Jungkook didn’t pull away until you were whimpering, pushing at his head, as you feebly scooted away from him. Gulping breaths of air, you slumped onto your mattress, now slightly damp with sweat. Tears leaked from the corner of your eyes as you stared up in a daze at your bedroom ceiling. 

Gently, he pulled his fingers from your thumping core, slowly dragging them up through your folds in the process. He popped his fingers into his mouth, his tongue licking away your arousal coated on his digits. With a lewd smacking sound he pulled them from his mouth. He positioned his body over you, fitting himself in between your open legs. You shivered as the head of his dick nudged your pussy.

“Good girl,” he whispered, caressing your thighs down to your butt. “Was that okay? It wasn’t too much was it?” You hummed, still sated from your three succeeding orgasms. “M’ good baby,” you exhaled, your breath starting to even out. “That was amazing.” 

Jungkook smiled and your heart fluttered. “Yeah?” He squeezed a handful of your right cheek. Without warning, his hand collided with the fatty meat of your ass, a loud smack resounding in the room. “Love this ass.” You yelped, flinching at the sudden brisk pain. His hand stroked over the sore spot. “You should let me eat that too.” Your eyes widened. You weren’t completely opposed to that idea. 

“Mmm, you’re a munch.” Jungkook snorted, leaning over to peck your lips twice. “Only for you though.” 

“Damn right.”

You opened your eyes to gaze up at him. He looked at peace. There was a faint trace of a smile on his lips. His orbs were scanning you, drinking you in. 

“Still want this dick?” 

You nodded, caressing over his chest and neck. Your hand fell as he stood on his knees hovering over your body. You bit your bottom lip as he reached down to squeeze the base of his dick. He huffed, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before reopening. 

“Yes, please. I need it, baby. Can’t wait any longer.” You were not too proud to beg. If your boyfriend didn’t get inside of you soon you were going to lose your mind. Future you will certainly cringe at how needy you were being though. 

He guided his tip through your dripping core, slowly dragging up and down and then back up again to circle your achy clit. 

You hissed as your legs fell open wider. “Are you sure?” with a free hand he pushed away the hair falling over his face. “I would think three orgasms is enough, no?” There was a pleased smirk on his face. He was enjoying this little game of teasing you. 

“Koo,” you whined, hooking your legs over his hips to draw him in closer. Your breath hitched as his tip caught on your entrance.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “How can I deny you when you beg so nicely?”

 Smoothly he slid into you inch after gratifying inch. He filled you to the brim, the stretch was so good you could come on the spot. Your walls avidly accepted him, sucking him in without much resistance at all. You could feel every thick, prominent vein running along his cock. Your brows pinched together as your head fell back onto your pillow.

“Fuck,” Jungkook drawled out as your warm pussy gripped him tight. “How do you always feel so fucking good, hmm?” Sinful moans rolled freely from his tongue, the heat and wetness of your cunt had his head reeling. He was teetering on the edge of an orgasm without even getting to properly fuck you yet. 

You squirmed underneath him, before canting your hips up to grind on his dick. “Jungkook,” you huffed, frustration clear in your voice. He raised his eyebrow, letting you work yourself on his cock for a moment. Without a single word, he slid out of you almost completely, tip barely still snug in your walls. You almost complained at the absence of him until he slid back into your pussy filling you deeper than before. You could cry in relief.

“Fuck,” you yelped, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to before they settled on his shoulders. 

“My greedy baby,” he purred, voice dripping with lust. He gave you two more long strokes. You gasped into the open air. “You just needed to be fucked right? All you needed was this dick?” You nodded, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “I need it, baby please.”

 “Don’t worry pretty,” his smirk was sinful, almost devilish. “I’ll give you what you want.” The two of you fell into a heated, frantic rhythm, incredibly desperate to feel one another. The wet smacking sounds of your bodies colliding could only be described as sonorous. Above you, you watched as Jungkook worked his hips into you expertly, never failing to hit every sensitive spot you didn’t even know existed inside you. You were so worked up, that you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to reach your peak again.

 Tiny beads of sweat were beginning to run down the sides of his face from his excursion. His scowl was present again, mouth wide open to allow unabashed moans to fall freely from his lips. He always moaned so sweetly. 

He hit you at an angle so deep, that you both moaned in response. “Uhn, Koo! Love the way you fuck me, baby,” you trembled in his hold. 

“I love it more baby,” he grunted, grinding his hips into yours.

Grabbing your hand into his, he brought it up to his lips to kiss the back of it. Halting his movements for a brief second, he leaned down to capture your lips between his, drawing you into a filthy kiss. His hips picked up again as your lips slid against each other, panting into each other’s mouths rather than kissing. When he pulled away there was a string of saliva connecting you both. 

He gasped, closing his eyes at the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him. “I love you so much, baby. God, I can’t get enough of you.” Your heart swelled in your chest. How could he still be so sweet while pounding you into oblivion? 

“I love you too baby,” you gasped. “Love you so fucking much!” 

“M’ not gonna last,” Jungkook whined, fingers digging into your hips. You weren’t surprised, while you were three orgasms in Jungkook hadn’t relieved himself once.

He positioned your legs over his shoulders being careful of your ankle, driving his cock into you deeper. His heavy balls slapped lewdly against your ass. You yelped, your breath hitching as the thick head brushed over your g-spot. “Fu-Koo! Right there!”

He swiveled his hips, his cock rubbing over the spongy area, that had shivers running down your spine. You could feel your arousal leaking from where you were connected, trailing down your ass. It gathered into a filthy pool of sweat and arousal beneath you. There was no saving these bedsheets. 

“Want you to come again, pretty. Need to see you come again.” You were so sensitive- too sensitive, you weren’t sure you could even come again. But you wanted to so badly, you wanted to be good for Jungkook.

Jungkook licked the pad of his thumb, and brought it down between your bodies, rubbing figure eight into your bundle of nerves. You were so wet it slipped a couple of times before he could get into a perfect rhythm. He was now snapping into at a pace so maddening you could barely breathe. That heavy tension in the pit of your tummy returned building and building as he fucked you quicker and deeper. Your eyes began to burn with unshed tears. 

“Baby, m’ so close! Gon-ah! Gonna come,” your words slurred together. 

Jungkook chuckled huskily above you, his breath hitting your face at the same pace he was fucking you. “So damn pretty. Come for me again baby.” He turned his neck to peck kisses into your sweaty calf. “Cream all over this dick.” 

It didn’t take much for you to come again, just a gentle brush of fingertips across your nipples had you reeling. Your back arched as you froze, your vision blurring. There was a loud ringing in your ears. A gush of release rushed out of you once, twice, and then a third time. It felt euphoric. 

You screamed, your spent walls spasming around your boyfriend. “Fuck Jungkook, fuck!” You collapsed onto your bed; your bones feeling like jell-o. You laid there motionless as the ringing subsided in your ears.

Jungkook groaned from above you. “Look at that, baby.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Still blissed out, you struggled to open your eyes. Finally looking down at what your boyfriend was referring to you gasped. There was a sizeable wet stain on your mattress, right under your ass. Your thighs and Jungkook's groin were also wet. Too wet to be sweat. 

He smirked, “You made a mess.” 

You felt yourself flush, unable to respond. Your mouth opened and closed, and then opened again in search of a response. 

 Jungkook chuckled above you, snatching you up in his arms. “You’re so damn hot,” he growled, sitting you on his cock. You winced slightly, overstimulation running through you. Sensitive but still good.

Fervently, he thrusted up into you, trapping you within his hold. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning your head down onto his shoulder. The damp skin was salty as you scraped your teeth across the area, your fingers tangled in his hair. Jungkook shivered as he grounded his hips into yours. He panted wetly beside your ear, airy moans and whines trembling out of his mouth. He was so, so close. 

You were too exhausted to say anything, instead stamping wet kisses across his neck to his throat, letting him have his way with you.

Still sensitive from your intense orgasm, your pussy clenched tight. “Ah!” He cried out, bouncing you harder on his dick to meet his thrusts. 

“Are you close, Koo,” you purred, biting his earlobe while your nails grazed his neck.

He cried out as his eyes shut. “Pussy’s too fucking good.” 

“Cum for me baby. Want it inside me.” You clenched your hand in his hair, pulling his locks, forcing his head back.

He gripped you tighter, thrusting deep. A broken wail of your name tumbles from his lips as he cums. You swear you could feel him swell inside you. He whines high in your ear as thick ropes of his semi-transparent seed paint your walls. You hum detaching yourself from his throat. He now sported a mark matching your own. Leaning down, you slotted your lips together with his, kissing him slow and deep. 

──•◦❥•◦──

Encased in your boyfriend’s arms, you felt warm in all the best ways. After fucking the daylights out of you, you cleaned off together, washing away all the vulgarity of your previous activities. Though Jungkook did most of the work as you were so drained you could barely stand up.

When you finally tumbled into bed, all clean and comfortable, Jungkook entertained any questions you had about his ability. No matter how ridiculous or nonsensical they seemed.

You'd found out that he was born a werewolf - the first time he'd shifted was his thirteenth birthday. He would be considered an alpha in the werewolf hierarchy, though he wasn't the pack leader, that was his father. Unlike what is commonly believed, werewolf mates weren't predestined, they were able to choose their mates themselves. That one made your heart beat a little faster.

From behind, Jungkook kissed your naked shoulder. You hummed, still gazing at your hand clasped together with his. You could barely keep your eyes open, the urge to sleep overtaking your body by the minute. You had another question though.

“When you shifted in front of me it seemed…” You searched for a word. “Involuntary. How come?” 

“Usually when I shift it is voluntarily, completely up to me.” You nodded still listening. “The only time it’s not voluntary is when there’s a full moon. Like tonight. Heightened emotions also make it more difficult to suppress it.” 

“Ohh,” you muttered. That made sense. “That’s why it seemed painful? You were trying to avoid it?” 

“Mhmm.”

 It was silent for a moment. There was one more question burning in your mind.

“Koo?” 

He hummed in acknowledgment. “I have another question.”

“Sure baby.”

“When you um,” you cleared your throat. You felt Jungkook move behind you, sitting up to gaze at your face. “When you uh, came. How come it wasn’t…,” you trailed off, too embarrassed to finish. 

“How come it wasn’t what, sweetheart?” You could hear the smile in his voice. 

“How come it wasn’t you know, a lot. Like it the stories.” You’d always read that whenever werewolves ejaculated it was a substantial amount, but when your boyfriend did, it was average. Granted, those were fanfictions and this was real life. 

It was silent. When you turned to face him, you were greeted with his smug grin. “What stories might that be?”

“St~op,” you whined, swatting at his chest. He chuckled capturing his hand in yours, kissing it twice.  

“Well, if you must know, you little minx,” you playfully rolled your eyes. “That only happens when I’m in my rut and I’m assuming you know what that means since you’ve read the stories.”

You hummed. “So I’m guessing that whole knot thing is to amp up the stories too right?” You tried to hide the relief in your voice. Jungkook settled back against your pillows making himself comfortable. “Oh no. That part’s very real.”

Your eyes widened. “What?!” 

──•◦❥•◦──

Thank you for reading!♡ 

Copyright © 2024 Spicybutterfly

All rights reserved.

Distribution, copying, reposting, or translating of any kind is not permitted. I will take legal action against those who attempt to steal my work.

[archangeldyke-all]

giggling so bad imagining R shaving her bush and sevika being like oh my god do u hate me?!?! what did I do?!?! how can I make it up to u I'm sorry pleeeeeease never do this again we can talk it out next time please 😭😭

LMAOOO

men and minors dni

last month, your period crept up on you, and you woke up half convinced you'd been stabbed in your sleep.

you and sevika didn't even try to salvage the sheets, just throwing them in the trash before re-making the bed. your pajamas were ruined, and, grossest of all, your crotch was a sticky, bloody mess.

so, this month to avoid any more incidents, you've been sleeping on a towel in anticipation, wearing a pad to bed just in case, and... you've shaved.

you haven't shaved in years. you and sevika are both bush enjoyers, and neither of you have ever felt the need to take a razor to your pits or legs since you started dating. finding a razor to use is almost impossible, but you manage to find one buried in the far back of your bathroom closet.

you feel so... cold. and smooth. you're hyper-aware of the feeling of your underwear rubbing on your skin. it's strange. not unpleasant, but strange. with one last look down your pants at your hair-less pussy, you shrug and crawl into bed.

you think that's the end of it.

you go to sleep easily, waking up about an hour later when sevika crawls in bed behind you. she kisses you gently and you hum, wrapping your arms around her before you both fall asleep.

in the morning, though, you wake up to a horrified gasp.

"what!? what is it, is someone breaking in?" you ask, sitting up in bed and rubbing your eyes. as you pull your hands away, though, you don't find sevika sitting beside you where she should be. she's hovering on top of you on all fours, a horrified look on her face. "sevika, what?!" you ask, your heart pounding in your chest.

"you shaved?!" sevika cries. you blink, your mind still half asleep, before finally looking down at your crotch.

you burst into laughter as you do. sevika's pulled your pants down your thighs in your sleep, clearly trying to give you a nice wake up call, and she's just now seeing your bare cunt. "sevika, for fuck's sake, i thought something horrible happened!" you laugh.

"something horrible has happened! why the fuck did you shave!?" sevika asks, her eyes wide and heartbroken. "d-did i piss you off, or something? whatever it is, baby, i promise i'll make it up to yo--"

"sevika!" you cackle. sevika pouts as she looks up from your pussy to your face. "baby, i shaved because my period's on the way and i didn't wanna deal with the mess again."

sevika's looking at you like you've lost your mind. "wha-- fuck that!" she whines. you chuckle. "what the fuck am i supposed to do when i'm goin' down on you now? my nose is gonna get all cold, i won't have anything to run my fingers through..." sevika looks seriously upset. you giggle just a little at the absurdity of the situation, then reach up to cup her face.

"it'll grow back, baby." you promise. sevika frowns.

"but then you'll just shave it off again!"

"no, i won't babe." you say. "not if you feel this strongly about it. plus, it's a lotta work-- i was scared to death i was gonna cut one of my lips off or something."

sevika chuckles. "thank you." she sighs, kissing your lips. you grin.

"thank you. y'know, most people have to deal with the opposite-- their partners forcin' them to shave before any intimacy at all... i'm glad you prefer the option that requires the least amount of work possible for me."

sevika giggles and kisses you. "i am pretty amazing, aren't i?" she asks. you nod.

"the fuckin' best." you agree.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @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

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

[galactic-magick]

For You: AU!Claggor x Reader

Summary: In the alternate timeline, Powder encourages you to admit your feelings for Claggor.

Words: 800+

Author's Notes: Adult alternate timeline Claggor is fine af so I wrote this short oneshot. Also I just needed to write something more lighthearted and cute after writing that devastating Viktor fic earlier. Enjoy <3

“I don’t get why you can’t just tell him,” Powder huffs, shuffling through her drawers for a particular brush. She glides on eyeshadow in your favorite colors, endlessly teasing you while she works, “It’s obvious he’s liked you since we were kids.”

“Oh, like finally admitting your feelings to Ekko was so easy,” you roll your eyes, causing her to scold you for opening them. “Besides, that’s not even true. He probably just sees me like a sister.”

“Look,” Powder tilts your chin up as she applies blush to your cheeks. “As someone who was actually raised as his sister, I can promise you he treats you differently. I catch him staring at you all the time, and he goes out of his way to be nice to you. Like, he literally made a new hybrid flower for you for your last birthday. What is it you’re not getting?”

“He gives plants to everyone, I don’t think I was special,” you shrug, pressing out your lips so Powder can swipe on some gloss.

“You’re a lost cause sometimes,” she sighs with a laugh. “Come on, it’s time to make our entrance.”

-

The Innovator’s Competition is crowded as usual, with loud music and ambient lights showering the entries and guests. Powder meets up with Ekko while you go to grab a drink and browse the inventions.

People start dancing, and you sway back and forth a bit to the beat. You don’t particularly want to third wheel right now, so you make do on the sidelines. You’re closer to the snacks here, anyway.

“Wow, Y/N. You look beautiful.”

You whip your head towards the voice, your mouth stuffed with one of Jericho’s famous, sloppy appetizers.

“Oh! Hi, Claggor!” You swallow as quickly as you can and wipe your face with your sleeve. “Sorry, um, thank you.”

“Anytime,” he chuckles. “How come you’re not out there dancing?”

“I...I just don’t like dancing alone,” you say, your eyes darting back to Powder and the other couples and friend groups on the dance floor.

“Well let’s go then,” he extends his hand to you.

You smile and take it, weaving through the crowd as he pulls you towards the middle. You see Powder give you a thumbs up before your attention is back on Claggor, and suddenly the crowded room feels less overwhelming.

You let lose, showing off your most ridiculous dance moves without a worry in the world. That was the thing about Claggor, he always made you feel safe, like you could be yourself whenever he was around. There is never a glimmer of judgment in his eyes, never an inkling of unkindness. He’s been your most stable and trusted friend for years—he played with you, explored the city with you, mourned with you, rejoiced with you. He’s just that kind of guy, with a heart of gold that never wavers.

But if you told him how you really feel—how you’ve felt since you were young—things might not be the same.

-

After the competition, Claggor takes the scenic route while walking you home, showing you a couple new gardens he’s been working on around the city. He hopes that one day plant life can be the key to the pollution problem in the underground, a dream that isn’t too far off with the latest hybrids and prototypes he’s made. It’s fascinating, and you’ve always admired his natural talent with nature.

He picks you a flower from one of the gardens, the kind he knows are your favorite.

“For you,” he says, slithering the stem into your hair. His hands, his face—it’s all so dangerously close now. You can feel his warmth, feel his gentle gaze.

Maybe Powder’s right, no man who saw you as just a friend would look at you like this.

You take the chance and close the space between you, kissing him quickly before stepping back to gauge his reaction.

He immediately pulls you back in, grabbing you by the waist and kissing you harder. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers twiddling with his soft wavy hair.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he says, your lips barely moving apart.

“I think I have some idea,” you giggle.

“Would you look at that, what did I tell ya?” You see Powder and Ekko coming around the corner, clearly ecstatic about this new opportunity to tease you. “Finally.”

Claggor keeps holding you close as you fire back, “Did you follow us just to say ‘I told you so’?”

“Nah, I didn’t even know you left the party yet,” Powder laughs. “But boy am I glad I saw this!”

She keeps walking with Ekko, whispering and chuckling as they go. You and Claggor can’t help but burst into your own fit of laughter as well, basking in the hilarity of the whole situation.

“We’ll never live this down, will we?” Claggor smirks.

“Absolutely not.”

[dubina-dawkins]

FORD MUSTANG '66 BACK SEAT

~2k words (i got carried away :p)

pairing: teen! dean winchester x teen!virgin! reader

> your uncle got you a perfect 18th birthday gift - white ford mustang '66, and dean is in awe. not only because of the car, but because of the birthday girl too

warnings/notes: smut, minors dni! f! masturbation mentioned, loss of virginity, fingering, p in v, unprotected (done by professionals don't try at home), softdom! dean, afab! reader, really fluffy and gentle, lots of kisses i mean how do they still breath, may be kind of continuation (but not a direct one but after some time yk) of my previous work with teen! dean and teen! reader, reader is hunter btw but this is mentioned less, no usage of y/n

REPOSTS WILL BE APPRECIATED

"Are you kidding...he gave you that baby girl? Damn it, your uncle has taste!" Dean laughs, approaching the vintage car from the bumper, palms wide on the cold metal. He stares out the windshield, then walks around the car in a circle before turning back to you, one arm around your shoulders.

Your birthday was literally, like, a week ago? But since your uncle was busy, he didn't get you a present until yesterday. And today Dean was here on your call. Secretly from dad, of course. Sam's at school somewhere, so there's no need to keep an eye on the kid, so, uh...

"Uh-huh. A useful gift for hunters, huh? Especially since uncle let me hunt alone or with you now... Cool stuff. And even though I'm a bit of a machine builder 'cause I'm always helping him, I think I'm gonna need some help, you know..." You start, turning so that your fingers slip into his messy hair, and Dean laughs.

"If you want me to drive this hottie until you get your driver's license-"

"Bingo!"

Dean laughs, his hands finding a place on your ribs as he pulls you into a tender kiss. The touch of his lips on yours was always too gentle, and it was infuriating sometimes. Knowing Dean, he could have done so much more. Just cared, I guess?

You kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. Knowing Dean freakin' Winchester, it was easy to see that he loved you very much. Well, loved you as much as he could. Sometimes it was a fight, but not a big one - hell, you're only 18, what the hell is there to fight about?

Especially since you now had official permission for alone time - soon you'd be hunting together, which meant lots of adventure, blood, sweat, and lives saved. Sometimes that last point was purely functional, and yet. Just you and him.

You couldn't call yourself an innocent Christian girl. You hated the church, God and angels with all your soul after all you had seen and gone through. They're in, they're out, it doesn't make much difference. So sinning didn't seem like a bad idea. Especially when you're just getting back from a walk with Dean in the night, when he's running away from home in his father's car - let's just say he wasn't promised his own car until he was 21 - and the feeling of his hands on your cheeks, ribs, waist and hips still hangs in space...

Then your fingers traveled south, stroking first the lower abdomen, then the labia, then the wet passage, and finally up to the clit.... you could've sworn your panties hadn't been dry after any encounter with your boyfriend. Dean's wink or a glance at your neck, your waist, and you'd be drowning. God, why's he so pretty all the time?

"Okay, now..." Dean pulls back and walks around the car to open the door and land in the driver's seat. His eyes glisten, and you can tell he's enjoying this immensely. Somewhere along the lines of his favorite movies and listening to Led Zeppelin.

His strong palms grip the steering wheel, and he leans back to keep it at arm's length. And Dean laughs again, stroking the leather of the steering wheel with his thumbs. "Pretty one, that's for sure..."

You land in the backseat, and he turns to you, raising an eyebrow. Without even hearing his question, you smile and fold your hands in your lap.

"I can't get used to the fact that it's all, like, mine. And I'm kind of scared to sit in the front. I guess it'll pass with time." You don't have time to finish the sentence when he gets out of the car, and a few moments later he's standing in front of the open backseat door.

"Then I should join you," he laughs, jumping to you, putting his hand on your lower back. You shriek and laugh, pressing your lips against his. The kiss is long, sensual, and at some point Dean's hands move down to your thighs, spreading them wide, and he pushes you back against the seats, towering over you. When he pulled away from the kiss, you looked up at him wide-eyed, doubt flickering across his face instead of a smirk.

"Uh...I hope you've-...you've already had someone, right...?" he gently takes you by the hips, wrapping your legs around his waist, and you only blush.

"Well...no?"

Dean closes his eyes for a moment and frowns, stroking your thighs with his thumbs, the same tenderness he used to stroke the steering wheel of your Mustang. Yeah, well, considering you were a hunter too, you didn't have much of a chance for a relationship...

"Ah, so...I get to be first? Woah..." he'd be lying if he said it didn't excite him even more, but it scared him too. However, he smiles and bends towards you, not allowing you to give an answer, his lips pressed against yours again. He places one hand on your chin, gently, two fingers opening your mouth for his tongue as his other hand creeps down to your stomach, stroking it.

"God, you're so- aah, fuck..." Dean sinks down between your legs, unzipping the fly of your jeans and pulling them down your legs. When his teeth snag the elastic of your panties, you whimper, putting your hand on his head, and he laughs. "Shh, not yet."

He looks at your glistening, wet folds, and God, it means everything. Dean licks his fingers - though it wasn't necessary at all, you were fucking soaked - and gently presses his thumb against your clit. When that elicits a soft moan of his name from you, he chuckles.

"Are you okay, baby?" He whispers, kissing your stomach, and gently pulls up your t-shirt. He kisses your collarbones while his free hand works on the clasp of your bra.

But God, you're too good to respond with anything but a whimper. You take off your shirt, and he pulls off your bra, and for a moment he just stops, staring at you. A low growl escapes Dean's lips. "You're so beautiful for me, baby..."

He brings his hand back to your pussy, gently stroking the space next to your passage, and your already tight walls tighten around nothing. He whimpers at the mere sight, pressing his lips to your nipples. Every sensation is new, every touch sending shocks of pleasure through your entire body. You put your arms around his neck, one hand creeping up to his disheveled hair, the other reaching down to his back.

Dean throws off his leather jacket and flannel, leaving only a T-shirt, and the cold material of his amulet burns your skin as he leans in again to leave kisses on your skin. "It might hurt now. Tell me if you need me to stop..." But you both know that neither you nor he wants to stop it.

Dean rises to capture your lips again in a kiss, and his middle finger slides into your channel, and you let out a loud sob at the sensation. His fingers are different, feel completely unfamiliar. And it's too exciting, especially when he gently pushes his finger deeper, and your core squelches so lewdly that you blush.

"De...feels so good," you whimper, hugging his shoulders, your hands in fists clutching the fabric of his t-shirt. "I'm trying, love," he laughs against your lips, his finger stroking your walls in a circular motion, and you grind against his hand - at which point Dean presses his hand to your stomach and begins to move his own finger inside, discreetly adding his ring finger as well.

You arch your back, and he kisses your cheek. "So good, you're so good, baby. So good at taking me like a good girl," your walls clench around his fingers at his praise, and Dean groans at the sensation - the bump on his jeans getting noticeably harder as he muffles both his and your moans with a kiss.

You feel bratty, pulling your hands to his belt, and Dean growls against your lips. "Can you handle this? I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart," he pulls his own jeans down, tossing them off his legs somewhere on the back of the driver's seat, followed by his T-shirt. Your fingers stroll phantomly over his waist and hip bones as he slides his fingers out of you with a squelch of your walls, and you whimper unhappily.

"Please, Dean-"

"Shh, shh, shh..." He strokes your cheek, bending down to kiss your swollen lips again, and his free hand guides your palms to the waistband of his boxers, and you obediently pull that down, letting him away from the kiss. Your eyes widen as you stare at his erection, and Dean chuckles shyly.

"Whoa..." you lick your lips, and purely out of interest, you touch your fingers to the tip. His shaft throbbed, and Dean let out a high-pitched whimper as his precum began to glisten under your finger.

"Baby, let's not make any more comments," he picks up your hand, intertwining your fingers, and gently positions himself between your thighs. Dean can't resist the opportunity to rub me against your swollen clit, and you synchronously make almost identical sounds - something between a high-pitched moan and a sob.

"...Are you sure?"

"Dean, shut up and get to work."

He laughs, leaning down to your face again. "That's my girl."

And he pushes into you in one, slow thrust, inch by inch, swallowing your moans of pain and pleasure in another kiss. God, a little more, and your lips would have turned blue.

He pulls away from your lips, arching his back, and catches your hands in his, intertwining your fingers again. Dean hisses, squeezing your hands. "So fucking tight...just for me, huh...?"

He doesn't just fill you up - his hardness overwhelms you, and you feel complete for the first time in your life. Your fingers grip his hands as if your whole life depends on it. "F-fuck, it's so huge-"

"Believe it or not, you're the first person to tell me that," he leans to you again, kissing your cheek as his hips move and he begins his slow pace. His thrusts may be measured but they're precise, each time his tip taps harder on that most sensitive point inside you, and it seems there are more stars in front of your eyes than there are in the night sky.

"You're doing well, baby...So tight, so wet, so pliable, just, just for me..." He whispers into your ear as his thrusts become less controlled, more needy. Your walls quiver and his length throb more and more inside-you're both close, and that knowledge drives you insane.

"D- yaaah, Dean, I'm close-" He doesn't answer anything, just presses his lips against you again and roughly penetrates your mouth with his tongue, his palms gripping your waist hard enough to bruise it, but one hand does drop down between your bodies to caress your swollen clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

And this is it, you cry out his name, your walls tighten around his cock, and he hisses, with a loud pop of your bodies releasing his length from your heat.

But you don't let him out that easily.

"My turn," you grin weakly, your hand taking his erection in your fist, giving it a few quick strokes, and he fucks your fist like he's in heat, nuzzling his face against your neck, making a moan so pathetic it's even cute.

"I love you so much...Baby, baby, sweetheart, fuck-" He whispers frantically, and with one final thrust, shots of his seed crash into your palm, your side, and the leather of the seats. Dean wraps his arms around your shoulders tightly, pulling you close, his face finding its place in your hair as he exhales hoarsely. "So fucking much..." he says, breathing heavily, his voice muffled by your locks.

There were tissues in the glove compartment, right?

a/n: still love my baby. still a tooth rotting fluff. your honor I'm sorry!! was working on reqs but i just thought of this idea and couldn't get it out of my head so that's it.......

[knavesflames]

heyyy el

requesting politely reader ... tending to ... arlecchino with her mouth and going from starting timid to taking a bit more control to arles surprise

lots of care and love just like in the one you just posted :3

mhm ty

Hi anon<33 I hope you are doing well and having a nice night (it’s night for me). I liked this idea >:) sorry lol it took me a while to come up with a concept but I hope this suffices 😁😁😁 (hi guys the dirty words are slowly making a reappearance)

Word count: 2.2k

Contents: soft dom!reader (kind of yes), bottom Arlecchino, cunnilingus (funny word), fingering at the end, orgasm denial (ONCE GUYS OKAY ONCE), also praise (guys I’m cooked)

Songs I listened to (for fun): fantastic- king princess (is this one obvious or not), disease- lady gaga, shhh!- viviz, pivot- HEYOON, boyfriend- dove Cameron, impurities- le sserafim

There’s more but I forgot

Nsft utc<3

Arlecchino is not a receiver. She gives and takes nothing, it’s how she’s always liked it, whatever the reason may be. She has not explained, and you doubt she will. Arlecchino is very secretive, you’ve come to learn. She divulges what she must, and keeps the rest hidden. Even you, who seems to know more about her than anyone ever has, is kept in the dark about a lot of things– what exactly triggers her nightmares? What truly happened with that ‘Mother’ of hers? There are rumours, of course. Arlecchino is mad and cursed, she killed her Mother ruthlessly without reason, she killed her best friend for nothing other than a simple quarrel. You know them to be false, now you know her better, but what you can’t seem to understand is why she lets the lies fester, why allows herself to be portrayed as a cruel monster. She can’t seem to answer you.

Arlecchino also refuses to tell you why she pushes herself so hard, or why she has such strict rules for herself. You beg her to take that damn suit off constantly (for.. Multiple reasons, both you and her know that well enough– she only obliges when it ends in you as a quivering mess on the bed). “What happened to regular clothing? I know you dislike dresses, but you don’t have to force your body into that silly suit all the time.” is a phrase often uttered. Silence is the only answer given.

Silence seems to be an answer you get from her often. In different contexts, of course. Sometimes, she is silent when she is comfortable, when she is thinking, when she is angry.. You realised long ago that she is a woman of few words– and even fewer sounds. During the rare occasions you get to make her feel good (whether that’s simultaneous to your own pleasure, or before), the only sounds you really hear are the soft breaths and the slight grunts whenever you do something she particularly likes. You have made it your mission to coax more sounds out of her, even if it’s the last thing you do. You experiment with different things each time you get to make her feel good, anything remotely sexual she’s done to you, you try with her. Degradation doesn’t work, her only response is a cock of her eyebrow and a scoff. Praise is a little bit better, earning a soft kiss on whatever part of your skin she can reach. Tying her up is out of the question– she has made it abundantly clear multiple times she only enjoys the act of bondage, however small, when you are on the receiving end. It’s the case for a lot of things, and it almost irritates you. Almost. it turns out the answer is something much simpler than anything you’ve ever tried, and you mentally curse yourself for taking so long to figure it out (for Arlecchino, that was the point. She likes the game, even if she truly is trying to keep her weakness hidden).

The answer was something she had done to you almost every time you had engaged in some form of intimate act with her. There aren’t many acts more intimate than your partner giving up the ability to speak because their tongue seems to be.. Busy. You just hadn’t realised that Arlecchino would ever be on the receiving end. So, after much pleading (and begging to the point it almost seems you’re begging her to fuck you instead of the other way around), she seemed to relent. Barely.

“Let me try,” comes the soft whisper from your lips, hitting the side of her neck as you gently place kisses there. There’s no reaction, but you could swear you felt a shiver. Moving away from the milky, unmarred skin of her neck (one of the only places that isn’t marked with either her curse or an array of scars), you almost expertly push the blazer off her shoulders before slowly sinking to your knees. The carpet is fuzzy, but it doesn’t do much to soften the hard wood underneath. You can’t find yourself caring. The blazer lands on the back of the desk chair. Excited, desperate fingers tug at the buttons of those godforsaken trousers until they finally do what you want them to do. You’ve done what you can, you can’t push her hips up so you can continue to take them off, she’s stronger than you’ll ever be (you like that). “Don’t you think it would feel nice? You know it feels nice. Do you not think you deserve it?”

“I do not deserve the pleasure you give me,” she murmurs, a rare show of her inner thoughts. The woman criticises herself too much, you think. You wish she wouldn’t be so strict with herself.

“Irrelevant,” She shivers at the slight sternness of your voice. It mirrors her own. “Do you want it?”

Arlecchino doesn’t respond for a while. Her hand moves to your head, and she caresses your hair, gently stroking and tugging at the strands before she eventually speaks, a whisper, a subconscious attempt to hide the fact she’s about to chase something she never allows herself to. “Put a pillow under your knees, at least.”

You grin, so pleased with yourself. You stand again, only to sprint and find a pillow. It happens to be the pillow you sleep on, it doesn’t matter. You return to your position only to find her trousers messily on the ground, and the top four buttons of her dress shirt undone. The look in her eyes is one you’ve rarely seen– want. “Beg.” you whisper, the grin still on your face. Arlecchino’s own face twists into a frown.

“I will die before I beg for anything.” Her tone is resolute, and you sit there nonetheless, unmoving apart from the finger tracing up and down her toned thigh. You both stay like that for an agonising two minutes before she barely mumbles. “Please.”

You are incredibly aware that you won’t get more than that, so, even though you know it doesn’t do much, you mutter “good girl”. It does do something, though. You barely hear it, but her breath shakes. You take it as an initiative to start, so you let your lips find her thigh, planting wet, open mouthed kisses up towards her inner thigh. You continue, and– she’s soaked already. You’ve done exactly nothing and she’s as wetter than you’ve ever seen her. Your eyes move up to hers, a raise of your eyebrow as you open your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off before you can speak.

“Do not. I am aware of the.. situation.”

“But you’re all wet and it’s all for my tongue. Isn’t that sweet?” You’ve never been this cocky at all, and Arlecchino would be a liar if she said she didn’t like it. She tries to find words, something to refute the claim, but her words are ripped from her lips when she feels your own lips graze her clit. It’s a tiny movement, really, but one she isn’t entirely used to. The only reaction she makes, however, is a slightly sharper exhale. Until your eyes stare straight into hers and you do it again, though for longer. Then again, though this time your tongue presses flat against it. Your tongue doesn’t move, much to Arlecchino’s dismay. The hand that rested in your hair gently tugs.

“Continue.” She speaks breathily, and her words shake. You can practically hear her gulp as she tries (and fails) to calm herself, and you know she’s probably telling herself to show no emotion. Though, when you finally start moving your tongue in slow, languid motions, you hear her shaky sigh and feel her hand in your hair tighten even more. You try to find a rhythm that affects her the most, alternating between soft licks and harder presses— you find that swirling your tongue around her clit, occasionally moving down to dip your tongue into her aching cunt. Your eyes dart up to her every few seconds to catch her mouth falling open and her head tilting back. When her mouth isn’t open, she’s stifling any noise she could possibly make, gritting her teeth so hard you’re almost certain they’re going to crack. The next time you tear your eyes away from her skin and move them to her face, her eyes are squeezed shut, and only then does a quiet groan escape her.

Something seems to change in your mind, because your hands move to grip her thighs, holding them apart despite them trembling. She’s sensitive, after all, it isn’t often she gets taken care of, is it? The blackened hand not pulling greedily at the strands on your head moves in an attempt to push your hands away, but your voice vibrates against her (which of course, causes another quiet sound to slip from her). “Keep your hands on the chair.”

Arlecchino’s eyes shoot open, a gasp practically ripping through her lungs. “You cannot expect me t—“

“Do it or I stop. Let me finish making you feel good.” She scolds herself internally for letting you get too comfortable with her own tricks. Either way, it feels good and she doesn’t want you to stop, though she’d rather cut off her own arm than admit it. She doesn’t need to say a word, though, the small groans (and whimpers) tell you everything. Especially when they grow louder, and her chest begins heaving, and her voice breaks with every utterance of your name. It’s the most pleasure she’s ever outwardly expressed.

“Why did you stop?” Her exasperated, breathless voice echoes the room. You stopped just as her orgasm was reaching the peak, causing it to ebb away quickly, a sense of disappointment growing in Arlecchino’s stomach. Her eyes, now piercing into you with that familiar irritated stare, meet yours, your own full of amusement. Wiping your chin (when you’re eating pussy like it’s the last meal you’ll ever eat, it tends to get messy, doesn’t it?), you chuckle and respond in your own teasing lilt.

“You taste so good, and your pussy is so damn pretty, Arlecchino. I don’t particularly want to stop right now. You can take it, can’t you? Keep your hands still.” Her face twists into some odd mix of mortified and aroused, but your tongue meets her clit again, and the only sound she can make is something so uncharacteristic, a whine. You continue exactly what you were doing before, though this time you decide to slide a finger into her— the reaction she gave was definitely a pleasant one, her back arching off of the chair, her hands squeezing the seat of it in an attempt to keep them still. Arlecchino reaches the peak quicker this time, and despite your bossy orders, she finds herself melting into you completely, her hips grinding herself onto your tongue as much as she possibly can. It’s completely different to how she was at the beginning, her plan to remain unbothered and stoic foiled.

“Can I— please don’t stop this time.” When there comes no response from you other than a curl of your finger, she moans your name in a useless attempt to get you to answer her. You’re being mean, she thinks, and you’re using everything she does against her. “Answer me. Tell me I can cum.”

How is she still demanding things from you even in this position? She lost all control a long time ago. You find your eyes opening though, and while adding a second finger, your voice softens and you speak, voice full of affection. “Be good and cum for me, then. Now, before I change my mind. Let yourself feel good, yeah?”

Arlecchino doesn’t need to be told twice, because her hips lose whatever rhythm they had when your tongue presses flat against her, letting her choose the pace and the rhythm she knows will get her there quickest (it doesn’t take long, the woman is so sexually pent up it’s laughable). Within a minute, she’s crying out, her hands flying up to her face to cover the obscene expression she knows is there. You pay no attention, only watching every movement with a sense of satisfaction and a smile in your eyes. You keep your finger curling and your tongue still until her body stops rocking, and her hands leave her face. When her face, the one you find so beautiful, emerges from behind her hands, mascara slightly smudged, you can’t help but snicker as you pull out and away from her.

“Better?” You ask, wiping your chin once more with the back of your hand. You somehow look so smug and the look on your face pisses Arlecchino off, just a little. How you’re so calm and collected and she’s a fucked out mess sat in her desk chair.

“Yes,” she says, her voice sharper than she intends it to be really, but she continues in the same tone. “I do hope you don’t think we’re finished, hm?” Your head tilts in slight confusion, but the smile remains on your face. After a while, Arlecchino’s own lips twitch upwards, barely noticeable, but you notice nonetheless. “How could I leave you without feeling good, too? Go to the bedroom, please.”