#like i can just imagine him let his hair air dry and it being all curly and wild

[merakidoll]

i think this year for halloween after always saying we would be them and never actually doing it. me and eren would be wybie and coraline!

[gladiatorcunt]

- A ROTTEN TREE BEARS ROTTEN FRUIT | I.

god loves you, but not enough to save you

cw: kinktober prompt (whipping/flogging), blasphemy, inaccurate religious practices, lyrical sadomasochism (more so sadism on his part), erotic religious imagery and references, this dynamic is so weird, implied (as in in my mind) bi reader and charlie, plus sized reader, reader’s chest referred to as ‘breasts’ & ‘tits’ and their crotch referred to as a ‘hole’ but they do have a seperate one other than their ass, pregnancy fantasy, vomit mention, don’t know shit about the show fuck you ryan, blood kink, interchangeable ‘charlie’ & ‘mayhew’ based on pov

do not translate, repost, or feed this work to ai |

kinktober 2024

“Shh, let me clean you up, Father.” You smile, so softly, he could snap your neck if he squeezed hard enough.

You run your nails over his back, trimmed to an appropriate length. Father Mayhew sighs the way Adam might’ve when Eve’s walls clenched around him, God never being more important than this bliss. You’re so devoted, so devout in your worship but he’s beginning to think that you cry out to a different God than he does. If you even believe in an invisible one anymore when you have a savior in the flesh.

“Thank you, dear. That’d be great.” The pulls are pulled from his lips like rotund wooden beads, as if he has no choice but to endure the stretch as they exit his body one by one.

You shuffle off the bed and kneel behind him, stroking your fingertips down his back like he’s a marble statue you just can’t help but reach out and touch. The opposite of Delilah cutting Samson’s hair, you only want to imbue him with your pure love from the inside out. Spooning milk and honey over the tender welts.

His eyelids crinkle as you kiss the nape of his neck, blotting your lips with rouge. There is no inch of his back left without, and when you arrive at the bigger gashes you lavish the cut with your tongue. Drinking his life away and cleaning him up like a good little whore, servicing the man becomes the only thing of importance to you. You dip the tip of your tongue in the recess of the deeper wounds, and caress his tensing abs from behind when he grits his teeth and traps a curse behind them. You only kitten lick him, but often he wishes you would get real dirty with it, caressing your tongue over his muscles in broad and messy swipes.

His scars from previous lashings glint in the low light of the candles surrounding you. You give them their just desserts of course, grateful pecks of attention and acknowledgement. Soothing his pain, that is the only excuse you have to encroach on the verge of breaking your vows. Father Mayhew gives you a purpose and stops your bleating with a heavy hand if you forget your place. Stern hand to raw and stinging flesh.

Sometimes there is no pillow when you kneel behind him.

The next step is that you turn around and face the wall after picking up the cattail whip off the bed and returning it to its rightful owner. You’ve already discarded your habit, no tunic, coif, or veil left on your person. They’re folded neatly beside you, only your rosary nestled in the embrace of your heaving breasts. Your peaks harden in the stuffy humid air, all the oxygen in the world confined to this small room.

He saddles up behind you, his sweaty chest so close to the flesh and contours of your back. Father Charlie breathes you in, taking whiffs of your debauched scent in between silent prayers. He never allows himself to be as forward as you are, his thread of control over his desire has not snapped yet. There are boundaries he can push, but lines he can never cross.

“Good lamb, God recognizes your penance and forgives your soul.” He whispers, dragging the strips of leather down your back until goosebumps rise to the surface.

When you least expect it, he strikes. You muffle a shout into the wall and Father Charlie’s cock jumps under his towel. Briefly he imagines slamming into your tempting body dry, with no preparation, making you sure you feel as much pain as possible. The way you’d wince with every step around the church, the begging in your puppy dog eyes when you’d take communion. How he could hold it above your head like a bone in the shape of a fractured cross, dangling just out of reach of your gorgeous mouth.

The devil gives him dreams of fucking your throat until you’re vomiting and hoarse.

Every droplet of bed peeking out from the cracks of your skin to say hello nourishes him. He shushes you when you’re unable to hold back your sounds, cooing when he notices you humping the air after the fifteenth hit. You just can’t help yourself, nerdy by nature and nurture.

You start soaking the pillow beneath you, imagining what he must look like. A man and his broad hulking body curling around you as he hurts you. Your hole suddenly feels so empty, you have a night of riding your pillow ahead of you, you just want to be good for him in all the ways you’re supposed to be.

As you let a demon of sex control your body, he spies a flash of a white lacy thong nestled between your plump ass cheeks. He knows that if you had also worn a towel, he would’ve hooked his fingers under the fabric and pulled it off. You don’t get to hide any part of yourself from your Father. And he knows he will have to give himself another lashing for those thoughts alone. Even the secret wedding he plans as he strokes his angry red cock, always edging himself, he’s afraid of what would happen if he lets go. How loud the iron gates would be when they creak open. Like the way he wants to spread your ass open and toy with the hidden puckered hole.

His words are in his actions, reopening your old wounds and bringing the warm leather across your back one last time, he hopes your blood soaks through the material. Staining it, the way you have already stained his heart. Father Charlie grins despite himself when you slump against the wall, sliding his bible-roughened hands over your love handles and sticks his pecs to your shoulders.

“You did lovely, today. The Lord thanks you, and I’m so proud of you, you know that?” His thick fingers brush along the bottoms of your tits, never going higher.

He wants to slap them, wrap the beads of your rosary around them until the flesh bulges, painting your nipples in a mix of both of your blood. Marking your souls irreversibly. Marriage of the spirit, a ritualistic wedding in the eyes of the beholder. You shiver like a mouse in front of a snake, and beads of precum fall from his cockhead.

Did Saint Teresa have these feelings when she had the vision of an angel piercing her heart with their golden spear? Did Saint Sebastian when he was pierced by those arrows under the order of the Emperor? Did David when he wrenched Goliath’s head back by his hair and bested him into humiliation? Did it compare to the covenant he formed with Jonathan?

He kisses your glittering scars in thanks and washes your blood away with his lips and tongue too. But unlike any other day in which you’ve done this, he stands up with a grunt and pulls you up with him. Father Mayhew falls backwards onto his bed and so you follow dutifully, and because the hold he has on your wrist is strong to the point of bruising. You lay your head over his heart and pant into his skin as he teases your plush thigh, tracing crosses into the chubby expanse of skin.

“No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.” He cajoles, walking on that burning tightrope with you.

He wonders if your cunt would be just as chubby, if you’ve ever thought about humping the organ bench, riper than the forbidden fruit, and he mentally catalogs an extra long session of repentance. To be fresh and clean again. Father Charlie will go through his sermons with his lighthearted tone and charming personality, desperate to hide that he’s thinking of plunging his tongue in your asshole. Sipping and slurping up your musk like it’s the only holy water he needs to live. Or entice you into eating his ass, you would love being able to serve him properly, no doubt.

To nourish you with his fragments, his vertebrae and viscera. The body and the blood. The teeth and the testicles.

He’ll sit in quiet contemplation in front of the pulpit, pouring wine over your body in his mind. Following the red trail with his tongue as it trickles down the valley of your chest and dips in and out the folds of your belly. He’ll leisurely open his mouth on a silent moan at the top of your mound, the hairs like yellowing blades of glades against his philtrum, in a perfect paradise there’d be blood there too. His own personal, pervertedly literal, red sea.

You’d look so beautiful, swollen and fat with a child growing in your womb. A shame that can never happen, but a blessing that no heretic of a man could snatch you up and take you away from him. Your flock is here, and the heavy crook of his staff is all you need to guide you back home when you go astray. Trapped in his thighs, molded by his hands, punctured into line with his cock.

[reshinless]

10 minutes. a drabble of fingering ++ dry humping (and a bit of eating you out) w/ spiderman!kinich in his suit.

spiderman!kinich who gets easily stressed, the pressure of being a superhero all kinds of people look up to get to him easily surprisingly for a guy who's usually stoic all the time, not caring for anyone outside of his little circle of friends.

but spiderman!kinich misses you while at work, even on the job when there's no villain in sight, or simply waiting on the criminal for let's say 30-ish minutes or so- he'll swing by the shared apartment you both share.

spiderman!kinich accidentally lets out his anger on you, but quickly being interrupted by a kiss (from you). you knew he'd never tell you these things, he barely opened up about himself back when you two first met, and now that he loved you, you knew he wouldn't throw this away unless emotions took the best of him.

spiderman!kinich who just as easily returns the kiss to you, it was clear when his tongue spoke for him- he was hungry. almost as if he planned for this to happen.

spiderman!kinich suddenly pins you down to the couch, your head on the armrest of it as he kisses down your nape, caressing your cheek with his gloved hand. going as far as to kiss down to your stomach, about to strip you of your pants until you quickly informed him you'd be in an interview soon enough.

spiderman!kinich had no problem straddling you on his lap, laying down on the armrest instead, using your clothed cunt to rub against his 'stress boner' (or whatever he calls it).

it was just that little push, and now he didn't have to do much. letting you do all the work; watching you squirm, and pushing yourself into his dick, but when you get tired.. he'll use the strength in his palms to make sure you both finish into your clothing <3

but that's a last resort. he talks you through it anyway.

"mhm, that's my girl." he hums of approval, watching how you rubbed your clothed cunt onto the tip of his cock ughh!! "uhuh.. that's right, I know you can do more."

spiderman!kinich who loves to praise you. groaning as the grasp on your thigh gets a little tighter to sign to you how he was feeling good. a sign for you to keep going.

spiderman!kinich loved to watch your head throw back, along with your velvety tongue loll out, feeling his shaft increasingly harden against your pussy.

spiderman!kinich didn't have the time to take off his suit sadly, but it definitely defined his abs a lot better. hhhh you could only moan to imagine what it'd be like to ride them.

spiderman!kinich who let you on your back, to rub his digits against the fabric of your panties under the short pencil skirt you decided on for the interview later on.

"so soaked.. just from a bit of humping?" he cooed into your ear, slowly pushing your underwear to the side. slowly fitting his fingers into your hole, one at a time.

the air felt heavy with the musky scent of sweat. strands of hair stuck to your forehead, your eyes glance over to the clock- ten minutes before your interview. spiderman!kinich looked over to the time as well, he could make you cum before that time was up, no problem.

spiderman!kinich who only fingered your hole faster, watching each second tick down to nine minutes, hearing the loud squelched your hole made each time.

adding another digit, you had already creamed onto his fingers. that's one, he made eye contact with you, knowing you couldn't keep your eyes open because of how much you were feeling down there.

his eyes analyzed the way your eyebrows knit each time he hit that one spot, so.. what if he kept curling his fingers against it right after you've just came?

well, the short answer to that was you would cum again, licking it off his fingers, licking his lips right afterward.

his hand pried your legs open, enough to spread it wide enough for his head to fit under your skirt, his tongue taking a dip into your delicious cunt. you couldn't help but clench around his fingers that worked at your hole before. that was 6 minutes.

the way his tongue started to coat your already-wet clit with saliva had your orgasm start to build up once again, adding a third finger into your hole only made it worse, or better in his point of view at least.

his fingers started to work exceedingly fast, or was it coincidentally about to his 3 minutes before the clock would hit 6:25. it's fine if you were a few minutes late right? he's pretty fast at swinging with his webs.

kissing your clit, making sure his tongue would have a long-lasting effect onto it, his started to lap your succus faster than before, not to mention the way your back arched from the sudden jump in pace.

"mmmf- kin i- i'm.. g'na be late!" you said, your hands fumbling everywhere, not knowing where to put themselves. you threw your head back with a whine of his name. he simply hummed as a reply, sending vibrations to your pussy.

there it was- you finally came, squirting onto his face, and landing onto his fingers. licking the aftertaste for a few more seconds, you had to detatch him personally off your delicious taste, making a pop sound.

"you.. don't really need that job, do you?"

"kinich!!"

[fartcloudfartcloud]

Do you mind doing a smut blurb about dry humping with Logan pls. I just need to read some dry humping with that man omfg

Tysm in advance you write Logan smut so well 😫😫 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Ofcourse I can lovely, and thank u so much omg im blushing. I'd do anything for this old man and if it were up to me I would have achieved atleast 1 nut on every inch of his body. you know how it is. I love writing dialogue so much, so I hope when I do it's like sexy and in character and not like ew why would he say that ykwim 😭😭😭 Also just realized u said dry humping and this is very much not dry, so if u want specifically some like over the clothes bumping and grinding I fuck with that too, just lmk 😋

Logan couldn't wrap his head around how so men come home to their beautiful girls, just to mistreat them. (he told me himself)

He couldn't imagine coming home and doing anything but pleasing whatever fresh faced beauty had burrowed their way into his heart.

Especially when that freshed faced beauty was as freshed faced and beautiful as you.

You'd fight him, shoo him away when he leers over your shoulder at your makeup routine and scold him when he's got his phone camera in your face. You'd never change his mind, no matter how hard youd try.

He didn't know how you could either, especially now when he's got you like this.

The room is hot and sticky as sounds of you and logans debauchery fill the room. The scene is nothing short of pornographic, since hes got you with your soaked core pressed into his thigh, your legs moving you in a mind numbing pattern.

Logans hands on your hips do most the work, though. He's got you pressed down in a way you're not sure you could sustain on your own, your hips locked back and clit taking most of the abuse, and it's driving you up the wall.

Your eyes are cast down, stairing at the fat of your pussy being smushed back and forth, leaving a slimy trail of slick to drip down the sides of Logans limb.

Logans eyes, however, have not left your face for a moment. You look jaw dropping like this, your head bobbing as your hands desperately grab onto whatever they can hold, your moans reaching a fever pich every time he applies just a little more force.

"You can take it, right baby?" The words don't make it past your lips, but you shakily nod and pant an audible "mhm".

"Atta girl," He praises, one hand coming up to grab your chin. He's got a goofy grin on his face, his pupils blown out and his hair falling into his face as he brings your eyes back up to his.

"There she is," His smile turns fond upon seeing your face again. His hand quickly returns to your hip and resumes his relentless assault on your core, this time his eyes locked on yours in an intimate embrace.

Not only can he smell it, but he can feel your impending climax. He can feel the way the slick is pouring from you, can feel the way your bud gets all stiff and sensitive. If nothing else, it was hard to ignore the way you shake like a leaf, your lungs void of air as it all overwhelms you.

"That's it right there, huh princess?" He asks, your voice becoming high pitched and whiney as you nod, your hands tightening on his tanktop.

"Let me see it baby. Don't take those pretty eyes off of me," He orders, picking up the pace, sprinting to bring you to your finish.

"Lo- its- mph~ i-im-" "shhh, just let it go," He whispers lowly, the sound going straight to your already buzzing center. It's not long before your eyes break his gaze, mindlessly rolling into the back of your head as the feeling consumes your body whole.

His hands don't falter, working you through your orgasm as you relentlessly shake and cry in his hands. Your face ties up, eyes now scrunched up and mouth dropped open in what is probably his favorite of all your looks.

He doesn't stop till you're twitching and squirming, whines going from orgasmic to almost painful as your whole core becomes sensitive.

"Fuck- Logan," you plead, wrapping your arms around his waist and hiding your face into your neck. You let out a deep sigh as you relax into him, feeling the waves of your release leaving you and being left with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.

He wraps his arms around you too, comforting you with his big arms and firm embrace.

"You have fun, princess?" He teases, kissing the crown of your head and pressing his face against it.

You respond with a quiet "mhm", face refusing to leave his neck.

He holds you like this, whispering soft words of so good, so pretty, my baby, into your ears and making your mind get all floaty and soft.

hope u enjoyed!! thank u for the request, keep them coming I'm having so much funnn omg

[g0niki]

camera's on ── y.jw p.js

pairing: bf!jungwon x afab!reader x classmate!jay

word count: 3.4k+

content: no protection (wrap it up 😓), oral (m&f receiving), light mxm (ooo they're both boys,,ooo and they're kissing), exhibitionism, jay is a little mean, jw is a little dumb, recording. i think that's it

a/n: another late-night banger, wrote this at like 4am and barely proofread it because i'm just a girl 🤷. lmk if anyone wants a part two!

“shit shit shit-“ won wasn’t giving you a single break, his hand rested on top of your head as he pushed your head down into the pillows. his hips repeatedly thrust in and out of you, knocking the air out of your lungs each time as you stare back at your reflection through his phone camera. 

the camera quality was shitty, blurry, and shaky, jumping any and every time won’s pelvis came in contact with your ass, but to won you looked angelic. he didn’t care how ‘bad’ it was, he could see your face red and stained with tears while also being able to see how good you took him. what he did not like was just how much the setup would come crashing down, like now. 

“wait wonnie-“ jungwon throws his head back in frustration, already knowing what words were going to come out of your mouth “it fell again...” won pulls out, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips as he crawls off the bed again to grab the small device, hand running through his hair in frustration. you sit up, pulling the blankets up to cover your figure. 

“we can try again another time…”  jungwon holds the phone in his hand now, his hand coming up to push your hair back and cup your face. he sees the slight pout on your face, knowing you haven’t gotten the chance to finish yet. he looks down at his erection, not as hard as it was before but still there. 

“let me finish you off baby,” tossing his phone to the side and tugging the blanket off of you. he grips your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the bed, kneeling between them and immediately getting to work. his tongue pressing flat against you and licking from top to bottom before inserting his muscle inside you and using his right hand to massage your clit. another failed attempt at completing one of his sex list goals, but that doesn’t mean he was going to leave his princess high and dry once again. 

jungwon continues to practically make out with your cunt. burying his face in your warmth and moving his fingers from your clit and to the outside of your entrance, gently pushing two of his digits inside and feeling around the space. you can hear the slurping sounds he makes, knowing it’s messy and that his face is coated in your essence yet unable to bring yourself up to look. too overcome with the feeling of ecstasy and throwing your head back as your back arches up. 

jungwon’s hips rutt against the edge of the bed, trying his best to match up with the pace of his fingers and trying to imagine the feeling of you clenching around his fingers being around his member instead.  

the feeling of his fingers curling up inside you finally sending you over the edge as won digs his hips into the mattress a couple more times, lapping at your cum to properly finish himself off. the warm cum oozing out and spreading against the bed sheets and his stomach. 

he might not have gotten the recording, but at least he still has you gasping for air in front of him. 

【☆】★【☆】

jungwon was in a bad mood and everyone on campus could tell. his hand gripped the strap of his backpack tightly, tight enough for the vein in his arm to pop out, his eyebrows pinched together in annoyance, and the inside of his right cheek was caught between his teeth. 

most of the time people would say hi and ask won how he was doing or stop him to exchange a couple of words, but anyone with working eyes could tell not to speak to the boy at that moment, let alone look at him. 

 jungwon tosses his bag onto the ground next to the table his friends are all studying at, all of them pausing their work to look up at him as if he had his head screwed on backward.

“who the hell spit in your coffee this morning?” sunoo scoffed, closing his book and setting his head on his palm to glare at jungwon. “that was unnecessary, interrupting our peace.” jungwon watched as sunoo rolled his eyes and sighs, jake nudging the sassy ginger. 

“cmon bro he’s clearly having a rough morning.” jake gives him a sympathetic smile, ruffling sunoo’s hair to get him off of jungwon’s back. “what’s got you like.. this?” the aussie looks jungwon up and down, taking in his messy look and the bags under his eyes, “you don’t even look this bad during finals.”

jungwon plops down onto the chair, rubbing his eyes and groaning out loud. “personal issues.” trying his best to keep the situation slightly vague. the answer wasn’t enough, sunoo and jake gave him a look that said ‘like???’

“recording issues,”

“recording… like a camera?” jungwon shoots sunoo a look, coming off harsher than he meant it to be, the ginger putting his hands up in response “jeez i’m just making sure, didn’t know you had a pole up your ass today.” 

“sorry hyung… it’s just really bothering me.”

“i was going to tell you to give you that junior jay’s number, but it seems like you don’t need my input.” sunoo looks away to check his nails,  not bothering to further explain himself. 

“who’s jay?”

“you know? the videography major from america.” jake ignores sunoo’s attitude and continues the conversation for him, filling in jungwon. “i’m sure he could help you with camera shit.” 

that’s how won found himself in front of the creative arts building. a sticky note in his hand with the room number 6-107 and the name of one of his seniors. the building being the polar opposite of his majors with a sleek and cool design, making him feel as if he stepped foot onto a completely different campus. 

after a couple of awkward interactions and asking people if they had seen this mysterious jay, jungwon was finally pointed towards a guy. his golden blondish hair sitting messily as he clicked away on his laptop, a nice looking camera sitting next to the device. 

park jay… or jongseong. he’s not sure which one he should be calling him but his legs are dragging him right over to the older boy. 

“i need your help.” jungwon stood over him, he’s eyes sharply looking at the blonde and waiting for him to look up.  jay’s head slowly looks jungwon up from bottom to top, making eye contact and raising his brow, licking the corner of his lip before speaking up. 

“do i know you?” jay minimizes his tabs, jungwon watching as the editing apps close one by one and the only thing left is jay’s camera roll, many thumbnails displayed on the screen in front of him. “and my services aren’t free.” 

despite jay having to look up at jungwon, won is still a bit intimidated. jay’s aura is suffocating, having him swallowing down the lump in his throat to continue the conversation. 

“yang jungwon. i just had a couple of questions about camera setup…” 

“i guess i could spare some tips, what camera are you using?” 

“my phone...”

“… do you have a tripod?”

“no…” jay blankly stares at jungwon, shutting his laptop and beginning to pack his things into his back. 

“you must take me for some kind of joke.”  grabbing his now-packed bag and slinging it over his shoulder done with the current conversation. 

“wait wait wait i’m serious i swear. i just… haven’t gotten my start.” jay sighs deeply, his eyes stabbing jungwon with a piercing glare. 

“do you have good lighting?” jungwon pauses for a second and thinks back to his room, he had some poorly strung-up led lights as well as an accent lamp in the corner of his bedroom.

“maybe…”

“you don’t have a camera, don’t have a proper setup, and you might have a lightbulb. what kind of project is this?” jay’s voice sounded flabbergasted, unable to understand jungwon’s vision from a videographer’s point of view, whatever the fuck jungwon was planning to record was going to be trash. 

“a personal project.”

“well, then what the fuck is in it for me?” 

“… not much.” 

jungwon had no idea how he managed to do it, but now jay was standing in his bedroom, analyzing the environment, walking around the bed, and looking at the room. turning around to stare at jungwon with a look of judgment. 

“are you trying to film a fucking porn?’ 

“whaaatt nah, nothing like that…” jungwon’s hand scratches the back of his neck, eyes avoiding the other boys.

“sure, what’s the focus point?”

“… the bed”

“alright, porn it is.” 

“it’s not porn. it’s wrestling!” jungwon winces at his bad cover-up, if it wasn’t already obvious (clearly it was) he had just blown his (non-existent) cover. 

“listen, every videographer has dabbled into pornography. there’s no shame, anyways i’d say this angle right here is best for a still shot.” 

“what about close-ups-“ and before won could finish his sentence the sound of the front door shutting could be heard through the small apartment and the sound of your voice shouting down the empty hallway to him. 

“baby, i’m home- oh we have guests??” jungwon doesn’t miss the way you quickly scan jay’s figure before leaning in to give won a peck on the lips, quickly pulling away and excusing yourself. “practice was long, i’m gonna go wash up.”

“she’s a dancer?” jungwon doesn’t fail to miss how jay keeps his eyes on you as you walk out, hands in his pockets before he resumes his conversation with won. “consultation fee is usually $100, but since you and your girlfriend are hot and you’re desperate, i could go for $75.” jay leans on the door frame, watching as you walk out of the bathroom in your shorts and sport-bra, grabbing the towel you seemed to have forgotten. 

“… great, i’ll pay you this weekend.” won also didn’t fail to watch you run across the hallway to grab your favorite fuzzy towel, and he certainly didn’t miss jay calling the two of you hot. 

“this weekend? you can’t be fucking serious.” jay pinches the space between his eyebrows, swearing he could feel his brain thumping against his temple dealing with the younger. 

“or, my girlfriend and i could give a different form of payment?” 

【☆】★【☆】

you weren’t expecting your boyfriend to sit you down on your bed after your shower, nothing but a towel wrapped around you while the guy you had briefly seen earlier set up a camera in the corner of your room. you weren’t put off though… the way his sharp eyes looked over and he adjusted the camera every few minutes was enough to have a puddle forming between your legs. 

“jay’s going to be helping us with that bucket list baby?” jungwon’s sickeningly sweet voice came from in front of you, his hands rubbing your thighs as he squatted in front of you, the now identified jay working behind him. “you’re already doing such a good job and being so pretty for the camera.”

“camera’s on, just start when you’re ready.” even his voice was enough to send shivers down your spine. 

“why don’t you take this off pretty?” jungwon tugs on the end of the towel, slipping it from around your form and dropping it onto the floor. his hands return to your thighs, dragging up to your waist as he raises himself to be leveled with your chest. kissing your left boob before taking your nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the hardened nub. 

“why don’t you make some noise for the camera, don’t make me feel like i’m wasting my time here.” jay’s harsh words paired with jungwon lightly biting down on your nipple has you letting out a high-pitched sound of satisfaction. “just like that.”

jungwon’s pushing you back and lifting your legs onto his shoulders, moving down to kiss your cunt. “put on a show for hyung? we want to make this worth it for him baby.” he marks the inside of your thighs up, leaving you to pull at your hair in frustration, the build-up not being nearly enough for you. 

“please wonnie, please i need more.” 

“i don’t think the camera is picking that up, say it louder pretty.”  jungwon laughs against your cunt, pulling back and looking over at jay, the obvious bulge between the blonde’s legs on display. “jay hyung, why don’t you bring the camera closer, she’s dripping like crazy.” 

jay moves the set-up, bringing the camera close as won moves out of the way, giving the perfect view of your cunt glistening and dripping down onto the bed. you can hear jay groan, looking up to see him straining against his slacks. 

seeing jungwon and jay stand next to each other and glare at you through the screen of the camera setting something off inside of you. 

“can i be the director for a moment…” you speak lowly, unsure of if the two of them would let you get your hands on the camera, but pleasantly surprised when jay hands the device over to you. jay and won continue to stand over you, watching you fumble with the camera and flip it around towards them, the visual of them looking down on you making you cower and turning you on all at once. 

“what do you want us to do angel?” jay smirks at you, chuckling lightly as he watches you fumble around with the camera.

“take off your shirts…”

“what do you say, angel?”

“…please?”

“good girl.” you watch as the two of them grab the backs of their shirts and tug them over their heads, the contrast in their skin tones complimenting each other nicely. 

“could you kiss too… please?”

“you remembered your manners, good job.” jay turns to face won, grabbing your boyfriend’s chin. you had never seen your boyfriend look so gone before, you usually had an idea of what he was thinking but with his empty eyes and jaw slightly dropped down you were sure you knew exactly what he was thinking. he wanted jay just as much as you did. 

“you okay with kissing me, pretty boy?” the way jungwon dumbly nods back at jay makes the older suck air through his teeth. “fuck, you two are making me so hard right now.” pushing his lips against your boyfriend’s roughly, you gasping behind the camera and pushing your knees together, trying your best to hold steady and keep the two of them in frame. 

without you having to give any further direction jay is pulling jungwon in by his waist, won raising his arms to tangle his hands in jay’s hair, messing up the strands that were once neatly styled. 

jay’s deep groans mixed with won’s whines drive you crazy, the two of them dragging their covered-up cocks together, the layers between them making them push against each other desperately.  

you put the camera down and reach for won’s belt trying your best to help only to feel a slap against your hands, jay’s hand roughly grabbing the hair on the back of your head and tilting your head up to look at him.

“what do you think you’re doing?” 

you freeze, lip slightly quivering as you struggle to respond. 

“i- i’m helping..” you hear jay tsk, shaking his head at you. 

“jungwon, she isn’t even recording. wasn’t that the whole point of this? I might as well pack my things up and leave.” 

“apologize y/n. you’re disappointing our guest.” the switch that flipped in won’s mind had you reeling. just a moment ago he was almost as out of it as you were, you couldn’t even begin to figure out how he could bounce back in a split second. his hand reached towards your face and pinched your cheek, slightly shaking your face in a teasing way. “what do you say to jay hyung?”

“i’m sorry. i’m really sorry jay.”

“how about i prop the camera up and then you can show me just how sorry you are? you’d like that yeah?” he massages the back of your head, soothing the spot he tugged on before picking up his camera and walking back over to the tripod. “help won out of those pants.”

you drop to your knees immediately getting to work, taking off won’s belt and dropping the pants to his ankle, massaging his achingly hard length through his thin boxers. you could see his member jump through the flimsy material, spit building up in your mouth at the thought of having it lay heavy on your tongue. 

you’re unable to stop yourself from leaning in and sucking on the tip, the soft material between your mouth and his skin doing very little to stop you, the spot growing darker as you suckle him. 

“nu uh, i need my payment first.” jay softly pushes jungwon out of the way and sits on the mattress, beckoning for the two of you to come over to him.

jay pulls his pants and underwear down, letting his irritated tip meet the cool air and slap up against his stomach. your eyes go wide, he’s thick and long. a prominent vein up the side that you’d kill to feel inside you.

“come on now, wrap those pretty lips around me.” jay spreads his legs and makes space for you between him, letting you settle between him before pulling your hair back into a loose ponytail. “say ‘ahh’” and the moment you do the most satisfying grown is leaving both jay and won’s mouths. your face flushes, proud of yourself for getting both of them to react in such a way. 

jay taps his member against your tongue before pushing in with no warning, enjoying the way you gag around him and your throat clenches around his tip. you struggle to take him properly, tears building up in your eyes as you look up to him and practically plead for him to let you up. 

jungwon groans beside jay, kissing up on his tan skin and marking up jay’s neck after every couple of kisses. you wanted so badly to join won and help, but the feeling of jay cock continuously thrumming against the back of your throat has you losing focus and your eyes rolling back. 

“she can’t even do it on her own, why don’t you help her out won?” you pull off for a quick moment, keeping only the tip in your mouth to suck on as you watch won bite down onto jay’s neck, the older boy hissing, his length twitching in your mouth as he does so. “come on she’s waiting for you.”

won uses his thumb to wipe the spit from his lower lip, wrapping both his hands around jay’s length and pumping the older boy, waiting for you to continue bobbing your head up and down. 

“fuck, i’m seeing stars right now.” 

your tongue comes out the trace the underside of his member, jay’s thighs clenching underneath your hands as you push yourself to take more, won’s hands getting everything you couldn’t reach. you watch as won slightly opens his hand, letting a glob of spit slip out of his mouth and drip down onto jay’s cock, adding more to the messy mixture of precum and your spit that’s already glazing jay’s member.

you couldn’t tell if the slick sounds were because of your mouth or jungwon’s slippery hands but you do know jay was loving every moment of it and you were going to have to watch back this tape later.

without any warning your throat was being coated with a warm release, jay tugging you off as jungwon milked the rest out of him, letting the last couple of streaks paint your lips and lashes. 

“show me my cum angel.” you open your mouth, one eye-opening as the other stays shut, trying to prevent the cum from getting in. jay spits into your mouth, watching as his clear liquid mixes with the pearly white one. 

“pretty, i want a taste too.” your boyfriend’s hand came around your next and pulled you up to him, lips meeting and his tongue scooping jay’s fluids into his mouth, groaning at the taste of both you and his senior.  swallowing down the bit of liquid he was able to get into his mouth. both you and won gulped it down before facing jay and showing him both your tongues, proof of it being all gone. 

“fuck i need this on tape-“

and then you hear three beeps from the corner of the room. 

“never mind, the camera just died...”

ᯓ★

@g0niki all rights reserved. do not translate or post my work anywhere without permission.

[hadersversion]

how to disappear! - lumberjack! logan x farmer’s daughter!reader: how they first meet

warnings: mentions of christianity, waiting till marriage, innocent reader, implied age gap (reader in 20s and logan being logan so 200?), good ole country attitudes

moodboard <3

🍓you’ve been living in a small town in nebraska your whole life

🍓the youngest daughter to the towns farmer, you were full of personality and many people in the town just liked to be around you

🍓you cared for the kids, helped the elderly, cooked & baker for everyone while wearing a big, beautiful smile on your face

🍓logan came to town in early spring, buying the fixer upper house down the dirt road from your home

🍓you two first met when your father asked you to run down some eggs that the chickens just hatched to the new neighbor as a welcome gift

🍓 you got on your bike, your white skirt flying in the wind as you drive down the hill

🍓 you parked your bike in front of his house and walked around the property, which seemed to be empty besides the pick up truck sitting in the drive way

🍓“hello? hello? i’m y/n, your new neighbor from up the street.”

🍓 you ventured around the property and admired the way it was already coming together. the once run down house now painted a fresh coat of red.

🍓 your walk around the house was cut short when you heard the sound of wood being split deeper into the woods surrounding the property

🍓 clutching the eggs, you followed the noise until you were looking at the ripped back of a man as he swung his axe high in the air

🍓 your body froze as you watched the man move swiftly with his axe, admiring his body and trying to tune out all the things you wanted him to do to you

🍓 he turned around and did a double take, his eyes raking up and down your body

🍓 the older man stood tall, his dark hair spiking up

🍓“um, hello?” he grunted

🍓 his white tank top clung to his sweaty body, showing off his hairy chest

🍓 dog tags hung around his neck as your brain thought about them hanging above your face when he’s on top of you

🍓 your mouth became dry as you stared at him

🍓 “h-hi.” you said shyly.

🍓“can i help ya with something, sweetheart.” he set the axe down and picked up a cigar from a log

🍓“y-yeah, i-um-i.” you were a stuttering mess looking at the gorgeous man in front of you. “sorry, i-uh��i live up the street and my daddy asked me to drop off these eggs to ya. our chickens hatched them this mornin’. think of it as a welcome to the town gift.”

🍓 he looks down at the eggs in your hand and smirks

🍓“appreciate it.” he walks up and grabs the eggs, cigar hanging from his mouth. “tell your pa i said thanks.”

🍓 your breathe hitches as you stare up at him, your thoughts becoming impure before you could even control them

🍓you never had thoughts like this before, you knew that you had to wait until marriage to even cross this bridge

🍓but this man made you want to throw those ideas out the window

🍓you watch as he stares down your chest, your shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination as it opened a bit at the top

🍓 instinctively, your fingers come up and play with cross necklace sitting comfortably against you

🍓you could swear this man let out a small groan at the tiny action

🍓“didn’t catch your name, sweetheart.”

🍓“y/n.”

🍓“y/n.” he repeats back and you swear, your heart melted in your chest. “pretty, just like you. i’m logan.”

🍓 i nod and smile. “thank you.”

🍓 the two of you stand in silence, appreciating the company of one another

🍓“i-uh…i should get going. but it was nice to meet you, logan.”

🍓“back at ya, kid.”

🍓 he watched as you walked towards your bike and hop on

🍓eyes raking over your body one last time as though he was never going to see you again, he wanted to savor you

🍓 you wave innocently and start your journey home

🍓 logan waves back and takes the cigar out of his mouth

🍓“maybe comin here wasn’t so bad.”

[beenbaanbuun]

mean dom w/ matz seonghwa (specifically)

words - 🤨

genre - smut with a little fluff at the end

warnings - oh god, mean dom!hwa, choking, spit kink, overstimulation, brief mention of safewords (none are used in this), degradation, brat kink, clit slapping, dacryphilia, desk sex, boot riding, boot licking, edging, aftercare, clothed sex (he wears his fur coat the entire time), gagging (with panties), good god, i’m so sorry for what i’ve written…

matz seonghwa is genuinely driving me insane. every time i see him in that stupid fur coat all i can think about is him being a mean dom

like i’m sorry but imagine him pinning you to the bed with a hand around your neck whilst he fucks you in nothing but the coat

your cheeks are wet from a mixture of your tears of overstimulation and his spit

but he doesn’t slow down as he watches you cry

no, he speeds up, even going as far as to reach between you and let his fingers play with your already abused clit

he’d been playing with it for what felt like hours now, alternating between his fingers and his tongue until he finally decides you were ready for him to fuck you

you whine and try your best to thrash about, but his grip tightens around your neck

your eyes go wide as he restricts your air supply

“fucking stay still, brat,” he grunts through gritted teeth, “you wanted to piss me off so now you have to suffer the consequences.”

and if that doesn’t do its job, he won’t hesitate to deliver a serious of hard slaps to you clit that have you squealing from the overstimulation

when you eventually go limp in his grasp, he won’t praise you

he’ll just loosen the hold he has on your neck a little and go back to playing with your clit like he was before

it doesn’t take long before you’re wailing as you cream around his dick, but even then he continues to snap his hips against yours

and he won’t stop until you either safeword or he’s satisfied with how many times you’ve cum for him

and when he’s working, he definitely makes you kneel between his legs as he wears the coat

even if he doesn’t have his dick shoved down your throat - which believe me, he often does - he just like the power it gives him

to see you sitting there with wide eyes, staring at him like he’s your whole universe makes his heart stutter a little

occasionally he’ll pet your hair, but other than that he does his best to ignore you as you lean your head against his thigh

of course, he sneaks glances at you when he knows you won’t notice

but it gets him off to see you so needy and desperate for just the tiniest bit of attention

and he lets it go on for as long as he can, letting you silently beg for his dick until he cant wait any more

without a word, he’ll lift you to your feet and bend you over his desk

with one huge hand pinning you to the desk, he uses his other to flip your skirt up and rip your panties away from your body

if you even dare to complain about it he’ll put you back on the floor for a little while longer

only this time the torn up panties will in between your lips, pushing against your tongue to silence you

of course, when enough time has passed for you to ‘think about your actions’, as seonghwa had put it, he’ll pick you back up and try again

most of the time he’ll fuck you like that until he cums in your starving cunt, leaving you high and dry and begging for more

it’s just because he likes to see you all whiny and pathetic and desperate for his cock

but sometimes he’ll let you cum before putting you back on the floor between his legs before continuing what whatever the fuck he was doing beforehand

occasionally, on the not-so-rare occasion that he doesn’t let you cum, he’ll make you ride his foot whilst you’re down there

if you want it that bad, you can’t complain about how he lets you have it, right?

so you let your fingers lace with the fur of his coat as you grind against his boot

he just chuckles to himself, comparing you to a bitch in heat under his breath as you desperately move your hips back and forth

and when you cum, best believe he’s making you lick it clean

he taunts you as you lap at the sticky liquid that covers his boot, calling you whatever name pops into his head as he watches you

“such a dirty slut, hm?” he asks as he pulls his foot away from your tongue and uses it to tilt you head back

behind the layer disdain in his eyes, you can see a familiar twinkle that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach

so you carry on until he’s deemed it enough, and pulls you onto his lap to lay against his chest and relax as he finishes his work

because even after all of that, you can’t say that mean dom!hwa wouldn’t be absolutely beautiful with aftercare

before you can even ask him for anything, it’s there

like, the scene is barely over and there’s already a wash cloth in his hand, ready to wipe your flaccid body down of all the spit and cum and sweat

he praises you in between soft kisses, and brushes your hair out of your face with his gentle fingers

you can’t help but flinch a little every time the fur of his coat brushes against your oversensitive skin, but he won’t take it off just yet

and the second your body is somewhat clean (you’ll be showering as soon as he’s sure you can stand up for that long, seonghwa wall make sure of it) he’s pressing snacks to your lips

he hand feeds you like you’re some sort of royalty, which to him you might as well be, and watches you with gleeful eyes as you slowly chew on whatever he gives you

and don’t get me started on the water bottle either

he puts it to your lips every few seconds for you to take a sip and he won’t put it back down until you’ve drunk at least half the bottle

even if you’re whining about not wanting anymore, he just quirks an eyebrow and brings it back to your lips as if he didn’t hear you

finally, when you’re clean, fed, and watered he lies down next to you on his back and opens the front of his coat wide

you take the hint and crawl onto his chest so he can wrap you both up in the oversized thing

chances are the two of you will fall asleep like that since it’s so warm and cosy

[fourmoony]

Just thinking about Sirius trusting reader enough to do his hair :,) or maybe she experiments with putting his hair in curlers/curling it. I could even imagine Sirius owning a Dyson airwrap to have the best blowouts 😭💀

Sirius would 100000% own the dyson air wrap!!! Thanks for requesting, babe!

cw: none

750 words, modern au

You're not sure where Sirius learned his money managing skills from (or if he even has any), but the pleased smile and child-like excitement over his brand new hair dryer is something you refuse to admonish. Though, you're sure even if you tried, you'd fail.

Your boyfriend bounces happily on the balls of his feet, hair sopping wet and plastered to his face. Water droplets seep into his grey shirt but Sirius doesn't seem to care. Not when he's too busy making bedroom eyes at the unopened box on the bathroom counter. He'd been so happy when John Lewis finally had the Dyson Air Wrap back in stock, had dragged you out of bed this morning to drop an easy five hundred quid on it. Your head had spun with the realisation of just how rich your boyfriend actually is.

He's not flashy with his money. Irresponsible, yes. But being there to witness a classic Sirius-Black-Irresponsible-Purchase had really solidified the knowledge that your boyfriend is filthy rich.

"Okay, I'll grab a stool and you set it up." He says, turning to make for the stool that sits under your dressing table.

"Wait, you want me to do it?" You yell after him.

Sirius makes noise everywhere he goes. He's loud and abrasive, jagged around the edges. He loves so loud that it only makes sense his entire personality is the same. There's thumps and grumbles as he bumps into things all the way along the hall, the tell tale sounds of the stool scraping along your freshly painted hallway. "Well who else would do it?" Sirius rounds the corner, flashes his teeth in a wide grin that he knows will make you fold.

"What makes you think I'm qualified?"

Sirius shrugs, "The fact that I'm one hundred percent not. You're good at everything, sweetness."

He knows flattery works like a charm, especially when he pairs it with his best flirty eyes. You sigh, reaching for the box and unravelling all of the corresponding pieces. It's high tech, incredibly high tech. Sirius fidgets on the stool as you watch a video on your phone, lips curled between your teeth in concentration.

It takes a while to get the hang of, and you're sure you'll get better in time. Sirius softens and relaxes as much as he ever allows himself to as your fingers work through his hair, as you brush and comb and dry it. He hums and sighs and even closes his eyes. It's peaceful and intimate and it allows you to come to a startling realisation that Sirius has never asked you to do his hair for him before.

He's not prissy about his hair. He'll let anyone touch it. He actually begs for people to play with his hair. But he's never outright asked you to fix it up for him, prefers to get it sitting perfect by himself because he believes it to be his best asset. You'd have to disagree with him on that. His eyes never fail to amaze you, nor his smile.

"All done." Your voice seems to pull him out of a daydream.

His eyes open and he smiles wide, turning in the stool in an instant until he can take your hands in his. "Bad news, sweetheart, you're going to have to do this every day." He informs you, standing until his hands can reach your hips.

He pulls you into him, a little roughly, but catches you with his own body, lips ducking down to press to your forehead. You resist the urge to tell him you'd be happy to do his hair every day, if only to feel the intimacy and pride of being the one person he trusts to style his hair.

"Such a travesty." You feign indifference, lips pressed to his collar bone where it peeks out of his shirt.

Sirius shivers at the contact. "Easy, sweetness. I know my hair is super hot and stuff, but we have dinner reservations with James and Remus. They'll get pissy if we cancel to have sex."

"Again." He adds after a second.

You scoff, pushing your boyfriend away whilst he barks with laughter. Heat creeps up your neck as you exit the bathroom, ignoring Sirius' shouts down the hallway that he could make an exception for a quickie.

"Thanks, baby!" He calls a moment later.

You can't fight the smile that toys at your lips as you pick out an outfit for dinner.

[stqrglr1]

Quick drabble. . .

Genre: smut, established relationship

Warnings: smut smut smut, mdni, oral(male rec), gagging, ball fondling, precum slipping(it makes sense when you read), some pet names (good little girl… etc)

Sucking hoon off pls i would love to 🫶

You’re so horny. Youve been horny all day. You’ve been imagining sucking your boyfriend sunghoon off all day at work. It’s been so hard to focus on any work thinking of coming home to him man spread on the couch. You like to think he spreads his legs like that just for you. An invitation to come between them. For your pretty face to have a place to rest. For your lips to actively kiss and suck along his pretty thighs. You love his legs. You love to make out with and suck on the delicate skin between his shaft and thighs.

He twitches and groans when you suck on a sensitive nerve in the crease and my god you lose it every time he does. Letting out a gargling moan, legs squeezing, hands massaging his legs subconsciously harder and harder. You love placing your hands on his thighs for support as you lick his length slowly, rolling your tongue around to massage and flick the gorgeous veins pulsing along his beautiful cock. The weight of you using him for stability making him curse your name “fuckk y/n” his toes clench and he spreads a little wider for you.

You love when he spreads wider at the feeling as you bob up and down his shaft with your pretty mouth. Makes you feel so good like you’re being his good little girl, heat floods between your own legs. You feel the warmth of your wetness begin to soak your panties. The more you grip and suck him the more you drip down your legs. Youre going insane on his cock, saliva dripping down your chin excessively to the point theres a puddle of your saliva and wetness pooling on the floor under your knees. You slip a little and fall deeper into hoons cock. Causing a deep gag to fall from your lips. The slight fall causes you to grip so hard on his thighs that you tear a little skin. He gnaws his bottom lip at the pain, clenching forward a little causing his balls to tap your chin.

The chain reaction of the nerves being touched lightly making him squirm in his seat a bit. You take this as a chance to grip the weight of them in your palm. Switching hands to shaft and mouth to balls every so often just because you know he loves the wetness of your saliva on them. He whines so lovely every time. The intense pleasure getting to him his breathing gets a little shallower as he gasps for air to fill his lungs.

The pleasure coursing powerfully through his veins. You feel his skin grow hot and flushed. Almost burning to your touch. He’s close. But he cant form words all he can do is mumble and whine loudly. Hands flailing from griping his own chest to your hair, not forcing you on him because you’re doing so good, but to give you motivation to keep doing what you’re doing. It’s working so well. You’re actually doing so perfectly. He cant take more he thinks but oh my god it’s so perfect, he wants this to last forever. You feel him tense trying to hold back, but you gently rub his thighs letting him know it’s okay to let go. You feel his hips twitch and stun as he shoots a flood of cum into your mouth. You gargle on it with a hoarse moan. Making him curse and jut his remains into you. You pump him in your mouth slowly letting his cum drip onto your chin all over your breast. You love the mess of sucking his orgasm dry.

“Mm so yummy hoon.” You lick your lips. Lapping up the droplets on your chest and shove them in your mouth, you hear the shuddered gasp leave his mouth as he watches. “Wanna taste?” You say as you crawl up his body to his mouth giving him the bitter taste of himself on you.

[princessbrunette]

okay but just imagine being popes sister and you’re sneaking around with jj and one day hes like talking to you through your bedroom door while jjs balls deep in you

CLOSE CALL!

a.n: this can def apply to regular siblings or just step-siblings with pope. some smut but nothin crazy !!

Closed doors at the Heyward house was allowed.

You were allowed privacy, your room was your space and there was a decent amount of trust between all of the house residents. However, locked doors was a no-no, especially now you and Pope were older and were spending an increasingly large amount of time with the opposite gender.

In your defence, you didn’t even know Pope was home. He was meant to be off with John B that day, looking into some old transcripts that could lead them to a map for some treasure you’d all been after for a while now. This was you and JJ’s day off, one might say — and you spent it straddling his lap on your bed, his cock bullying your insides as you grind down on it, his hips lifting beneath you to meet your bounces. One of his ringed hands clasped your waist, helping you with your movements whilst the other took a moment to run through his sun-bleached hair, slightly matted from the sweaty, balmy atmosphere in your room. “Fuck, that’s good huh?” He groans.

Your jaw dropped, a moan just about to rip from your throat as you drew closer to your orgasm— when the moment was interrupted by a swift, but unmistakable knock at your door, followed by the calling of your name. Pope.

JJ sat up so fast from his laid back position you nearly knocked heads, the blonde wincing and holding your lower back as you clenched hard in surprise. You looked at eachother, eyes wide — before Pope called your name once more.

“I gotta get in there, I hid the key to the safe in your room ‘cos I was paranoid and now—” The handle to your door turns.

“Don’t come in!” You yelp, JJ about 3 seconds from throwing you off him so he could swan dive naked out the window. “I’m naked!” Technically, not a lie.

“So put some clothes on, look I’ve got John B waiting outside and I don’t have time to—”

“I cant, I just got out the shower and I’m air drying. Just— just tell me where the key is and I’ll bring it to you.” You call out, hearing him sigh. JJ shifts a little inside your wet heat, and you both wince this time— both sensitive.

“I don’t really remember. I just know it’s in your dresser— Look if you just let me look it’ll be quicker I really gotta go!” He begs and you bite your lip. Pope wasnt dumb, if you tried to sneak JJ out the window or even off the bed he’d hear the extra set of feet and come bursting in like the protective big brother he was. You stare into JJ’s wide eyes, his expression reading ‘What the hell are you about to do?’ and speak again.

“If you come in you gotta keep your eyes closed, okay?” Your voice wavers unsurely, now if having JJ round during the day wasn’t a big enough risk, this sure was. JJ’s eyes widen, jaw gaping slightly as if you’d lost your mind.

“Obviously, I don’t wanna see you naked, dude.” Pope mutters before swinging the door open, eyes screwed shut as promised, even holding a hand over them for extra precaution.

“Just— take a few steps, and then a few to the left and then face the wall where the dresser is.” You direct him as he stumbles over, following your directions until his back his to you, the dresser now infront of him. The two of you watch Pope rummage through the drawers, searching for where he left the key— JJ practically holding his breath, putting statues to shame.

“You should really be coming to this. It could be pretty big.” He converses, digging around.

“Uh— yeah, maybe I’ll meet you there in a little.” You try and regulate your voice, trying to ignore how you can feel JJ throbbing inside of you, begging for release. You furrowed your brows at him briefly, in disbelief that he was still this hard with his close friend in the room. Must have been all the nerves, JJ was always the adrenaline junkie.

“JJ too. Lemme text him—” He mumbles, and you watch the back of him as he digs into his back pocket. The blonde boy beneath you comes to life, wilding shaking his head and waving at his phone sat proudly on your bedside table like a bomb ready to detonate, sure to make a loud and obnoxious noise if Pope was to text him, giving the game away.

“No!” You yell, a little too urgently, and you watch Popes back straighten a little suspiciously, like he wanted to turn around. “Let—” You clear your throat, attempting at a casual tone. “Let me text him. I’ve been looking for an excuse to text him anyway.”

“Gross, you can’t be crushing on my friends. They’re… dudes. They think with their dicks and it’ll just fuck everything up.” He scolds you, sticking his arm deep in the drawer until he jolted with recognition, finally finding the key amongst a wad of socks. “Ah, got it.”

‘Gross?’ JJ mouths to you, face screwed in offence and you lightly smack his arm, distracted by the conversation.

“Whatever, Pope. We’ll talk about this some other time. Now uh— see yourself out.” He stumbles blindly to the door and shuts it behind him again, the two of you staying rooted to your spot until you heard his feet descend away and out the front door.

JJ collapses onto his back once more, breathing out a loud sigh of relief and from the momentum you fall straight on top of him with an ‘Oof!’

“Jesu— my legs crampin’ up. You really just— invited him in here? Just like that?” He explodes, brows raised as you shuffle into a more comfortable spot, his cock still nestled inside of you.

“I had no choice!” You pout, hoping to win some cute points. “And we got away with it, didn’t we?” You add with a cheeky grin, rolling your hips as you grind him in and out of you once more. He lets out a jagged breath and then a chuckle, shaking his head.

“Oh you’re crazy. You know that right? That you’re crazy?”

“You like it.”

“I do but uh— don’t you have something you should be doing? Like texting me for example?” His smile grows as he speaks and you burst into giggles from his stupid joke and fingers digging into your waist. Not giving you a chance to retaliate, he flips you on your back and gets back to work.

[emmebearpaw]

The archons but they aren't quite human. i mean. obviously they aren't. But really. I think we should let them get their uncanny on just a little bit. Or a lotta bit. Venti chooses to walk on the ground. They recognize it helps with the whole looking human thing but like, I don't think Barbatos used legs to move. Venti walks silently. Venti can seemingly get into any room. No one has ever seen them do it but they can just appear. The air around them is fresher. Like it sort of just feels nice to be in a room with it. Also, doesn't need eyes to see. Like, very clearly can seemingly navigate with his eyes closed (uses the air currents). Hair is often blowing in a breeze, even when there isn't one. Zhongli tries to tamp it down but Morax's feet never left the ground. His dragon form didn't fly either. The ground simply would move and bend to be beneath his feet at all times. I don't have as many for him but something about him feels like he should have a low rumble. Incredible at judging weights of things by eye. Like you can hold up some cheese you are about to grate for a recipe and he will tell you that you don't have enough. Also can navigate with eyes closed (just feels through the ground). Eyes glitter gold. He's getting better at hiding it but he blinks one eye at a time.

Ei + The Shogun who doesn't touch the ground when she walks. Hovering just above it. Like a bolt of lightning frozen in time. People's hair stands on end when she approaches. Is so full of static electricity. It doesn't bother her but yeah touching her can shock you.The Shogun doesn't blink but no one noticed that because Ei barely blinks either. Why would she blink? After act 2 of her quest you notice she does actually touch the ground sometimes. She blinks more too.

Nahida's not always planted in the ground but she usually is. Grass and vines and plants coiling their way around her as she stands, but usually easily retreating again when she begins moving. She might be barefoot but the power of the plants protects her from being defeated by a sharp rock. She can also easily ascend by climbing on plants like a step ladder. Yes she does manage to grow plants even if she is indoors or on tile. She actually gets tired if she stops doing it for too long. That's her fucking mycelial network. I think she should start photosynthesizing.

Furina. Furina also seems odd, why you ask? During her 500 years as the archon she learned a bunch of stage tricks to fake archon weirdness. She seems to leave water behind with every step she takes (she has water pouches hidden in her heels that release a little water with each step. Yes she does have to refill them... often). She once demonstrated she can walk on water (faked that lmao). She is genuinely blind in her darker eye though (focalors is also blind in one eye. it's also her darker eye, but i imagine their heterochromia is flipped so they are blind on different sides). This has led to her being genuinely better at navigating by other senses, including her innate ability to figure out where water is. She mostly read it as "ability to know someone is nearby" but it turns out that she could only determine when a Fontanian was nearby due to the fact they were oceanids. She was very weirded out when she stopped being able to do that. Neuvillette doesn't blink much (his eyes literally don't get dry unless he is dehydrated). He can determine where water was sourced from by taste alone (this might not be because he's a dragon. this might just be him). He can also determine when someone is coming (humans are still mostly water). It's literally canon his emotions influence the weather. Fontaine is already humid but god he can single-handedly increase the humidity of a room. anyways i think im out for now lmao

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

I personally headcaon that demon have advanced smell but only towards specific things, they can’t smell if it’s like gonna rain or something like humans do so imagine the brothers about to go out to like a restaurant all together and MC takes a couple of steps outside, stops, sniffs the air for a little while and goes back inside to grab an umbrella and the bros are like “What’s that for?” And MC’s like “it’s gonna rain I can smell it.” but they don’t believe them so after they’re done eating at the restaurant they’re about to get ready to go and when they open the door it’s POURING and MC is the only with an umbrella so they just walk out and go back to the HOL leaving everyone else behind. Please I need some headcaons on this. 🤣🤣🤣

As someone who is especially good at feeling when the weather's about to turn, this speaks to me.

As always I'm so grateful for the ask and I hope you like the headcannons!

These got pretty long so let me know if you want a part 2 and I'd be happy to add too it!

'Rain?! Idiot human, no way!'

Mammon laughed at the human as though they'd spouted the dumbest notion ever. The evening was so mild and the sky had been clear all day, no way would it rain!

Besides, the air doesn't smell any different to him!

Still, MC tucks the umbrella under their arm and shrugs off his teasing.

He'll later regret being such an ass when he opens the door out of the restaurant and feels the distinctive humidity of rain.

The rogue drops splash his white shoes as soon as he steps beyond the threshold. It's not just raining, it's pourring.

The human beside him does no more than smirk calmly, opening their umbrella, and stepping out into the downpour.

'Hope you enjoy the dry cleaning bill for those overpriced clothes of yours.' MC hummed. They're not known for being petty, but Mammon has a way of pushing their buttons, besides, he cares too much about his clothes for a guy who looks good in absolutely everything.

'H-hey wait! Ya can't just leave me here!'

'I think you'll find I can, idiot demon.'

'You can...smell, rain?'

Belphegor pulled a face as the human packed the umbrella away safely in their bag.

'Yeah, you can't?'

The demon shook his head, and shrugged it off as more MC weirdness. He's already established that they're no ordinary human, maybe this is just them pulling a prank on him, seeing as they dragged him out of bed to go out for dinner.

They made it to the restaurant dry, but as they rounded a corner about to walk through the door, MC paused, and sniffed the air.

'Here it comes...' They muttered.

Belphie rolled his eyes, ready to make a joke out of it, but stopped when he felt an icy drop smack right on to the crown of his head, cold water weaving down to his sensitive scalp.

He looked up, stepped out from under the awning, and felt a second drop hit his cheek. Before he knew it, they had to take shelter as the heavens opened and down came hell's own torrential rain.

He didn't need to look to know the human was grinning smugly, readjusting their bag, carrying the only umbrella.

'You're gonna share, right?'

MC shrugged, grinning like a cheshire cat. 'Maybe.'

'Darling, the forecast was clear, I made sure! Why are you bringing an umbrella?'

Asmodeus frowned curiously at MC, who went to far as to lay a waterproof jacket over their rucksack.

'Forecasts are only a suggestion, nature doesn't care what the satellites say! Besides, the nose knows.' The human declared boldly.

Asmodeus smiled fondly at his quirky human companion. Human senses seem so dull compared to a demon, surely there's nothing they can smell that he can't.

Still, MC's explanation continued to be that they could smell rain coming, and were thus prepared for it.

Imagine his horror when he stepped out of a boutique and directly into the downpour, gasping at the shock of cold water ruining his perfect hair and makeup.

MC had to dive for their umbrella before he got completely soaked, they couldn't bring themselves to leave him in it, knowing the tantrum he was already going to throw over the half-dozen drops that have already dared to land on him.

His pout was championship worthy, arms folded and shivering all the way home, only growing grumpier when his human laughed while attempting to comfort him, loving mirth in their eyes as they promised to "tell him more seriously" next time.

Bonus undateables:

Solomon and MC stepped out of Purgatory Hall ahead of the angels, locked deep in conversation until they both suddenly stopped, forcing Luke to crash into MC's back.

'Hey! What's that about?!' The small angel objected mightily to his sore nose.

The humans shared a knowing look as MC pointedly sniffed the air.

'You smell that?' The younger human asked.

'I'll get the umbrellas.' Solomon replied, turning on his heel back into Purgatory Hall.

'Umbrellas?' Simeon and Luke echoed incredulously, the older angel continuing. 'It's not due to rain until next week.'

MC frowned at him curiously, head tilted like an incredulous feline. 'You don't smell that?'

Solomon re-joined them, MC's odd question left hanging in the air as the ashen haired sorcerer handed Simeon an umbrella.

'No, they don't. Shall we go?' Solomon offered MC his arm, flashing Simeon a wink as his fellow human slid their arm through his and started for the Demon Lord's Castle. 'We shouldn't keep Lord Diavolo waiting.'

The angels shared a look, or would have, if Luke hadn't immediately started berating Solomon for acting all suspicious over MC.

Simeon stared at the umbrella he'd been provided suspiciously, trailing the group, until halfway to the castle, the heavens suddenly opened.

'The forecast said it was clear!' Luke cried incredulously as Solomon popped open an umbrella and held it over he and MC's heads.

Simeon soon ushered Luke under his own umbrella, laughing as the human flashed them smug looks. 'How did you two know?'

'We could smell it on the air.' MC clarified. 'I didn't realise angels and demons couldn't!'

Luke huffed petulantly. 'That's...probably quite useful.'

They four of them reached the castle, where Barbatos greeted them with a pleased smile.

'I'm glad to see you all came prepared for such an unexpected downpour.'

'We wouldn't have been if these two weren't with us.' Luke replied, explaining to the lord and his butler that humans can apparently, smell incoming rain.

Diavolo was delighted with the revelation. 'Haha! How incredible! And I thought demons had a refined sense of smell.'

'Only for things that matter to them, apparently.' MC chuckled. 'Beel can smell a burger to a hundred paces, downwind.'

'And this has nothing to do with magic at all?'

'Nah, just smells a certain way, oh, and my right knee feels funny when the temperature drops.'

'Huh, fascinating. How very odd you humans are!'

'Indeed.'

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello Miss Raven!✨💕

I would like to ask you for an imagine/scenario or character interaction with Crewel and Vil (platonic ofc), where they talk about fashion and everything like the queens they are and they just always have the hottest tea! Talking about the school etc.

It's a casual fic idea without any angst or things like that, maybe somewhere along the way they start talking about Yuu who's Vil's friend, that he has a bit of a crush on? It may start at the Vil's alchemy lesson or smth-

Anyways, the main focus is hot tea between the fashion queens🙏👑 Thank you!💖

This interaction takes place after the events of book 6, so there will be spoilers for that.

I kept the “Vil has a crush on Yuu” element out of this particular interaction since I didn’t find it super relevant 💦 I want the focus of this blog event to be Crewel and his relationships with others. Maybe if the interaction had been posed like Vil coming to Crewel for love advice (since Crewel is a trusted adult for him), it could have fit better. Either that, or I’d advise waiting for more generalized writing requests to open ^^

If he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.

“Crewel-sensei.”

He turned at the call of his voice. “Schoenheit.”

Vil, dressed in his labwear, approached. A beaker of a bubbling substance carefully was ferried in his gloved hand, which he offered to his instructor. “The Peddler’s Disguise is done. You may evaluate it for its quality.”

Crewel accepted the potion, gently swirling it to test the viscosity and noting the color.

“It was brewed with mummy dust, black of night, an old hag’s cackle, and a scream of fright. I then churned over high heat with a blast of wind and a thunderbolt.”

"You've memorized the recipe. Excellent work." Crewel set the beaker down on a lab bench and marked off Vil's name on a clipboard. "You're making up for lost time at a record pace."

"Of course. There is no excuse for falling behind," Vil insisted, tossing his blonde hair over one shoulder.

Crewel quirked a brow. "Not even being kidnapped? How strong-minded of you. I was surprised when you came to me asking to hit the ground running with makeup classes upon your return.”

He looked Vil up and down. “You remain put-together for someone who has gone through an event most would consider unsettling. Is it your PR training keeping you cool in the public eye?”

Vil folded his arms. "... If you're trying to be subtle with your worries, then you're doing a poor job of it, sensei.”

"And is there a problem with a teacher having concern for his student?”

“No, not at all.” A smirk flickered onto Vil’s lips. “Then shall we drop the pretenses? Though so bear in mind that I am under a strict NDA, so I can only divulge so many details.”

“Let’s,” Crewel agreed. “I presume you cannot share the bulk of your harrowing experience.”

Vil nodded. “But fortunately, I can tell about the worst of it… The atrocious lack of attention to self care!!”

“Our school uniforms were taken away and we were made to wear the same sterile grey uniforms every day. Threads as thin as hospital gowns, collared like misbehaved mongrels… Why, it was the worst injustice I faced in that facility.

“Not only that, but the air in the enclosure was stale and terribly drying.” Vil patted his cheek and shuddered at the memory. “It wreaked havoc on my skin.

“Worse still was that I was denied access to any skincare products and cosmetics! I was told that they were a safety hazard and to ‘rinse off with water and soap and go bare faced for a while, what are you aggro’ing about’!! Can you believe the GALL?! I was just about ready to let the staff have my wrath.”

Vil paused, taking a breath to calm himself. “… I was only saved thanks to a gaggle of nosy potatoes and a certain huntsman.”

“Speaking of, Hunt caused quite the stir at school when he vanished. Pomefiore was already suffering without its dorm leader and expected its vice dorm leader to step up fill that role in your stead… but with Hunt mysteriously gone, Pomefiore was without anyone in charge.”

“As I rightfully scolded him for.” Vil sighed deeply. "I was informed that Trein-sensei served as acting headmaster while the situation was unfolding. How did he address the issue of Pomefiore's missing leadership?"

"You're looking right at him," Crewel replied with a dry laugh. "I was called in to supervise the dormitory on top of my usual teaching duties. It seems the old man... excuse me, I mean my esteemed colleague, decided to put his faith in his favorite ex-troublemaker. Who was I to deny him?

"For the time Hunt and his rescue squad were away, I stayed at Pomefiore and kept watch over its students. What a mess—there are hardly time for my personal upkeep, nor a moment to steal away and seek the comfort of my beloved dogs... My clothes were horribly creased and my hair unkempt when the news first broke of your return.”

"What a harrowing tale of sacrifice. I apologize for the inconvenience my vice dorm leader imposed on you. He'll be getting another earful from me.”

“Hmph, no need. Though it was an inconvenience at the time, I am glad to see that you’ve come back to us safe snd sound. Perhaps it is not so bad for you pups to act selfishly every now and again.”

“Oh? Careful, Crewel-sensei. We may just take that as the green light to behave even more selfishly.”

“Then I will be there to keep you in line."

"Is that so? I'll be holding you accountable to that promise."

"And I'll be holding you accountable for your dorm's students," Crewel promised with the same ease as Vil.

There was a mutual understanding between them, the same spark set in their eyes. Teacher and student, fashionista and fashionista.

Together, they radiated an overwhelming aura.

[iheartjameshetfield]

this has been rotting my brain...

so imagine sucking James dick and while you're down there, he can tell how needy you're getting so he sticks out his boot and you end up riding his boot while sucking his dick

this is just so 🤭🤭

YES YES YES OMGHSHFJSGDJAHD

you’d be getting him off and his moans would drive you insane. seeing the way he just throws his head back, praising you, calling you sweet names as he tugs on your hair while you suck him off, it makes you even wetter.

when he delivers a particularly hard thrust into your mouth, you couldn’t hold back anymore. you started clenching your thighs, looking for any sort of relief but it was fruitless, making you whine over james’ cock. he finds humor in your neediness but after a while it’s just pitiful, the way you start grabbing on to him to find any sort of friction like a dog in heat.

he shifts his leg a little until his boot was right underneath your heat. you look up at him confusedly, your mouth still stuffed with his cock and the sight makes him twitch.

“jesus christ” he hisses before letting out a breathy moan. when he sees that you still don’t get the hint, he taps his foot. “there you go, pretty girl. you’ve earned it” he smiles reassuringly.

the second you understand what he means, you pounce at the chance to ride his boot while you keep sucking him off. the friction that his boot keeps making against your clit was causing you to whimper and whine around him as you try to reach your climax.

james needed to cum so bad. he could die right then and there a happy man just from seeing the way your mouth could barely take him all and the way you keep pathetically rutting against him.

you start crying, frustrated from the overstimulation on your clit, yet you can’t cum. james brings his thumb down to wipe your tears lovingly, but then he has a tight grip on your hair, using it as leverage as he mercilessly thrusts into your mouth like you’re nothing but a hole to him.

you feel his balls slapping against your chin, constantly gagging around him as you pitiably bounce on his boot. he tries to help you finish by tapping his boot against the ground, meeting your cunt halfway with your grinds.

“oh fuck, gonna cum in this pretty mouth, shit.”

with one last thrust into your mouth, he holds your head still, not even thinking about the possibility of you not being able to breath or choking around him. he cums deep into your throat as you practically suck him dry, your throat constantly restricting around him. he feels his dick in your throat as he strokes your neck, making you swallow every drop of cum in his system.

after what feels like forever, he finally pulls out of your mouth, making you gasp for air and cough. he doesn’t bother wiping your tears form your cheeks or cleaning up the cum and spit smeared around your mouth and chin.

“there you go, sweet girl, you got it” he pats the side of your cheek, telling you sweet words of encouragement to help you finish.

“i need to cum, james, please” you whine, tears streaming down your face.

“come on baby, you could do it.”

you grip onto his legs for leverage, helping you ride him faster. you pant as you feel your orgasm hit you suddenly. you bite down on his thigh, trying to be careful not to hurt him. you lay limp, resting your head against his thigh as you hug his leg, your chest heaving as you come down from your high. james strokes your hair lovingly, murmuring sweet praises.

“you did so good for me. atta girl” he smiles sweetly at you

oh my fucking god i will SCREAM I NEED THIS I NEED HIM

[b4tasquad]

NEEDY: NIKO OMILANA

Authors note: based on this request. Forgot to reply to it and didn’t realise til I was done🙄 but anyways… a little heated guys.

Warnings: making out! Touching! Dry humping and two horny bitches. Minors dni

…

The entire day had passed by in a blur, the countless errands you had to run keeping you transfixed on getting everything done. For the past 5 hours, you had practically ignored everything else, which also meant your boyfriend.

Finally, once you’ve gotten comfortable in the comfort of your own flat, you let yourself relax into the soft pillows littered around your couch. Your phone which had been on do not disturb came back to life again, showing you the amount of messages you had received from Niko.

Niko:

Babe

Bae

Hello?

The one time I’m in a crisis you decide not to be on your phone??? Really.

The fact that you have on do not disturb knowing damn well I’m hitting that ‘notify anyway’ button is too funny🤣

5:31 pm

Niko:

Babyyyyy

Where are you????

I’m so fucking bored

Aj won’t stop waffling in my ear about shit I couldn’t care less about😐😐 like bro I don’t give a fuck where you like it

5:52 pm

Niko:

It’s really hot in here

And I’m not feeling to week yk

Please come… help me?

6:39 pm

With his last text being half an hour earlier, you opt to call him, feeling bad for not being available sooner. The phone hasn’t even started ringing properly when Niko picks up.

“Love, what’s wrong with you?” Is the first thing you say, just choosing to be straightforward about it instead of beating round the bush.

For some reason, he swerves your question. “You need to come over here, like right now.” His words are a whisper, which reminds you he should be in the middle of a shoot. At your lack of answer, he impatiently prods for an answer. “Y/n?”

“Shouldn’t you be doing a shoot?” You pick up the remote, getting ready to stay in after talking your boyfriend out of his so-called boredom. “Niko get back to that.”

“No, baby, you don’t get it.” He whines quietly, aware the boys around him would never let him live it down if they heard. Luckily, they were speaking with the camera crew, allowing Niko to be as annoying as he wanted.

“Then give me a good enough reason to get out of my comfy couch, because it’s not looking good for you.” You rest even deeper down in the edge of the cushion, confident he wouldn’t win. “3…2…”

At the sound of the countdown you can hear Niko huff a breath of air, something he did when annoyed. “Seriously?”

“1…..”

“Okay!” He also mutters something under his breath but relaxes. “I need you.”

You would laugh and ask him what his vague words meant if his tone didn’t speak for him. Having known Niko for as long as you did, there was no question about what he meant. You gazed at the clock over your living room walls, contemplating what to do.

“I’ll be there in 10.”

He quickly thanks you, letting you know he had to get back to filming before hanging up. You run a hand through your hair, laughing a little at yourself.

“Imagine being so horny oh my days.”

But there’s no conflict on what to do. Niko’s begging has done something to you, and the need for his touch is everything you can focus on as you get into your car and drive to your boyfriend’s location. It wasn’t often Niko would be willing to beg that much if the two of you weren’t hidden by the comfort of your bedroom walls, but it seemed as today was an exception .

Walking into the all too familiar place you had been to countless times before, you make your way to the room they always shot at. Niko’s eyes met yours the second you stand outside the open door, and he was quick to smile. He’s quiet as the camera’s moving but when they stop for a second, he comes up to you, hands snaking around your waist.

Having missed Niko, you hug him with as much eagerness, placing a chaste kiss on his neck. You can hear them calling for him, but Niko can’t help himself. Taking hold of your jaw, he connects your lips quickly. You’ve only registered what he’s doing when your boyfriend pulls back again.

“Wait 15 minutes, and I’ll make it worth it.”

“Eh, Niko!” Chunkz calls from his seat across the room. “ Keep it pg 13 for the kids around.”

Sharky puts his hands over Aj’s eyes, and Kenny cackles from his spot beside them. Pushing away the hands, Aj rolls his eyes.

“Let’s do that filming again, thank you.”

The 15 minutes were long and painful. You almost couldn’t watch your boyfriend from the sidelines, every move or word he spoke intensifying the warm feeling in the pit of your stomach. He seemed to have noticed because just a few minutes into you being here, he kept looking at you. Sending you looks far from innocent.

You’re scrolling on your phone, bored when the boys are told they can take a quick break. Niko stands up with a subtle grin, as he talks to Sharky about something, but his eyes are on you, making you excited to get him alone.

Your back hits the wall with such force you're about to complain, but Niko silences you with his exploring mouth. He kisses your body with such intensity, you find yourself not even just breathless, but also speechless. There are no words you can use to even paint a faint picture of how you’re feeling.

“I’ve been waiting for this… all day,” Niko says in between kisses, his lips moving from your neck to your mouth.

Kissing him back with as much energy is hard as you already feel dizzy. His height gives him such an advantage that you can’t compete with. Seeing your struggle, Niko lifts you up your legs coming to cross behind his back. He continues kissing you, but now with the addition of rubbing himself against your body.

His actions leave you whining, something he can’t help but groan at. Niko had always loved hearing your response to his actions, it gave him confidence that he wasn’t the only one enjoying it.

“Wait.” You slightly lean away from the kiss, but Niko only continues to kiss down the side of your neck. “Niko.”

“Hmm?”

“Sit down.”

Quirking his eyebrows, he lets you down, taking a seat on the desk. You were unsure what kind of room the two of you had ended up in, but seeing the amount of clutter you could only guess it was some sort of storage place. You had noticed the desk somewhere in between stumbling into the room, and Niko kissing you senseless.

Climbing onto him, you put your hands around his exposed neck. Niko’s hands roam your body as much as he can, hands slipping into your pants to kneed the soft flesh of your ass. You moan slightly as he also gives it a quick slap, wishing more than ever that he would fill you up.

“Niko.” You start, dragging your body over his clothed thighs with the help of his hands on your ass to move you. He doesn’t let you speak, instead, he pulls you into a hard kiss but still continues to move you.

No clothes were off yet, but there was no need because your boyfriend knew exactly how to get you there. He slips one of his hands out of your pants, Instead using it to pull at your hair and make you look at him. “I told you I’d make it worth it, yeah?”

Then he dives into another lustful kiss, continuing to drive you crazy for the rest of the little time you had before someone got overly suspicious.

[ss-skyearn]

Took Too Much

❝They say your love lasts forever if you see the first snow together.❞

PAIRING : Hwang Hyunjin x female!reader

WORD COUNT : 4.5k.

GENRE : Angst, Smut, Fluff.

WARNINGS/CONTENT : explicit sexual content, substance abuse, longing, mutual pining, vulnerability, they're in love and just want each other, angst with a happy ending.

SMUT WARNINGS : grinding, dry humping, foreplay, petnames, launderie kink, desperation, WORSHIPPING (quite literally), unprotected intercourse (don't try at home).

A/N : This piece is a little heavier than what I usually write but am particularly fond of it; feedback much appreciated. As usual, enjoy, lovelies. ♡

But it's a silhouette you'd recognize anywhere.

Those legs that you were trapped between during stolen moments of vulnerability.

Those large palms that held you down while you shook from the white hot pleasure the same hands brought you.

That soft blonde mop of hair that tickled your inner thighs when the same head was buried in your heat, almost every chilly night like today. And every warm one too.

It's funny.

How a single 'ding' can mean so much, can seize your heart, can threaten to bring out what you have been trying so hard to suppress.

It was a heat of the moment thing, done in good fun.

"It gives me a special privilege," he'd said.

"That makes no sense. You already occupy the largest unit in my heart," you'd breathed against his lips.

Moving back an inch, he'd whined, "It'll let you know it's me and that you have to abandon everything to give me attention. Pretty, please?"

You never could say no to his doe eyes, a fact he exploited on the daily.

So you'd given in, changing the ringtone for his messages and calls to one that is seperate from the rest of your contacts.

So really, it was a spur of the moment decision he'd proposed after having been interrupted mid make out session, him claiming a special place on yet another part of your being.

It's funny, honestly.

How the tone that once was the cause of butterflies going rampant in the pits of your belly, now has reason to cause grief of the same, if not more, measure.

You know who it is before you even chance a glance at your screen, but you look all the same.

Not knowing what you were expecting, the sorrow burning a deeper shade of red is felt and you reckon that it's the price to pay for reaching out to something you know would elicit a reaction such as this.

Hyun<3

You hadn't deleted his contact, the reason you're unsure of to this day. Perhaps a reminder that he did in fact once exist in your life, had a grounding presence, a place reserved all for himself in the mainland of your heart, and not someone entirely dreamt up.

It surely felt like it at times.

The silence from his end hurt you, broke you, shattered you, despite having been at your request. Days seemingly never ending, nights even moreso, your house empty, bed cold. All of it ate away at you a little at a time, leaving behind a silhouette tainted with holes, torn and run down at the edges.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't imagine, didn't long, didn't yearn for this very moment. The moment his side of the silence ceases, the moment he, despite your asks, reaches out.

So why does your heart feel about fit to burst at the seams? Why do you so badly want to run away? Why do you feel the air suddenly burning its way into your lungs?

"Hello?" your voice is but a whisper, foreign to anyone who's known you.

"Baby?"

Eyes closing shut, you let a long drawn sigh escape your nostrils. Being all too consumed in the eagerness of the manifestation of the moment you'd been wanting, you didn't stop to consider what his voice was capable of inflicting, underestimating your own longing for everything that's him.

"Baby, you there?"

"Why are you calling me?"

A rustling sound follows, as he lets out his own well deserved breath of air.

It's a sense of relief, if anything. Knowing that you're not the only one tormented.

A sick, sadistic kind of relief, sure. But relief all the same. Labels stopped meaning much to you a while ago.

"Missed your voice," he mumbles, tone having an unusual tilt to it.

You don't respond. Or rather, you can't. For if you will yourself to speak in this moment, a choked sob is about all that'll make its way out.

"Missed you," the tilt deepens and you catch yourself mere moments before voicing out your concerns. Not having spoken to him since the pair of you parted ways, it's going to take time adjusting to the fact that he's no longer accountable to your questions, your worries. And you're no longer expected to care for him.

You are no longer wanted.

"Why are you calling?" you echo, the fact that your voice is growing quieter by the second not lost on you. If anything, it's the same fact that withholds you from saying more.

"It's the first snow today."

You know what he's thinking. It'd be a lie to say you haven't been thinking the same all day.

You stay quiet, waiting for the blow.

When did you turn into such a masochist? You know the next thing coming out of his mouth is going to tear apart your tattered heart that you've been fixing up the past year since he left you.

"We met on the day of the first snow."

Alas, bandaids don't fix bullet holes.

They're ripped apart, shredded to nothing. Tattered and frayed, used for all their worth. Leaving behind the pieces of your heart, desperately clinging onto each other, trying and failing to stay in league.

"They say your love lasts forever if you see the first snow together."

A dry chuckle follows, filling the air with despair, a feeling contrary to the act in of itself.

"That's all fucking bullshit, isn't it?" the tilt to his voice wavers, a little sniffle enough to withdraw one from you too.

"Look where it got us," the silky voice breaks, the same one you adored.

The voice that once called you 'love', whispered confessions into your hair, your ears, your core. The voice that took on a hoarse tone when you woke up in his arms on late mornings, the one that promised to be with you always.

Empty confessions. Empty promises.

"Why are you calling?" seems like this is the only thing that's making its way out of your throat tonight. The only thing that can make its way out.

He hums, then chuckles again. The same hollow laugh, detached, impassive, phlegmatic.

"You always were stubborn, weren't you?"

"Hyunjin," your voice is stern, indicative of a warning.

But he finds no such emotion behind it.

"Keep going."

"Wh—"

"Keep saying my name. Please."

It's only going to take so much for the choked sob that you've been holding at the back of your throat to be let out. And it's taking every fibre, every alight neuron within you to keep it in.

"Why?" a meek whisper. Your voice wavering.

"Because I love it. Love you," a quiet sob. His tone trembling. "Still," A single word. Sealing in an entire universe worth of meaning.

Eyes falling shut again, you don't stop the trail of heat that burns your cheeks. For the first time in a year, you let yourself go. Let yourself feel.

Even if it's grief. Even if it's sorrow.

Your let yourself feel.

A huff of breath is heard through the receiver, followed by a shudder.

"You were always better than me with cold."

Your eyes snap open, back ramrod straight and despite knowing what you'll find, you hastily draw the curtains aside. And sure enough, the snowfall is steady, windy breeze rustling leaves off their petioles, streets emptier than they should be considering the early hours of night.

And for good reason.

"Hyun, are you out?"

"You still have me all figured out," he lets out, and you can almost see his breath condensing in front of his face, courtesy the coldest day of this year's winter.

"What are you doing out? Get in right now," the assertive tone isn't something you've used in a while. Maybe you just didn't have anyone to use it on anymore.

He chuckles again, seemingly the only reaction he's able to give you, the only reaction that doesn't involve speaking, lest the wobble to his tone give him away.

"Hyun, seriously. Get the fuck in."

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Don't know where I am," the sigh that follows lets you know that he just closed his eyes. It's the one he let out every night when he laid behind you, his chest to your back, him buried deep in you. It's when he felt the most at peace, he used to say. Coming home and being with you, feeling you, inside out. Quite literally.

Though what he's finding peaceful about the biting cold is beyond you.

"What do you mean you don't know? Hyun, don't fuck with me right now."

The next chortle is almost a laugh, the irony of your statement not lost on you. You think you hear something eerily similar to "how I wish" through the microphone, but you choose to ignore it.

"Hyunjin. For the last time, where are you?" even as your tone indicates your growing impatience, your body works on autopilot. Before you know it, you're getting up and reaching for your car keys, all while throwing a fleece jacket over your shoulder.

"Is getting you mad the only way to make you say my name?"

He's not listening. Something you're not used to. Sure, not listening and communicating is what got you both where you are today, but it's something you've never been at the receiving end of. It's the complaint he always had. And the complaint you always brushed off.

You suddenly remember another spur of the moment thing you did back in the day.

You pull out the app where you had your locations visible to each other, knowing of the other's whereabouts at all times. Your friends had called it a red flag, that he was possessive, obsessive even, to suggest something of this sort.

Little did they know it was your idea.

You see him, his little bitmoji some ten kilometres away from your current location.

Even as you're making your way to the car, shoving the steady falling snow out of the way, you make a show of protesting, "Use goggle maps and drive home."

"Can't drive either."

"Why?"

Silence.

And it gives you reason to fret. Despite the unnerving tilt, he's been responsive and dare you say vulnerable all throughout, the shake to his voice not holding him back from letting his feelings known.

So the first time he's silent is enough to make you break into a cold sweat.

"Hyun, why can't you drive?"

You hear him drag a hand down his face, some rustling of clothes following shortly after.

Another deep exhale, another beat of silence.

"Hyunjin," you settle on it as the last measure, knowing it's the only way he'll answer, the weakness he has for you saying his name made plenty clear today.

"I'm sorry," the whisper is barely there, almost lost in the sounds of your engine revving.

But he's the only one you've ever had ears for.

So you hear him. You hear him loud and clear.

"Why?" while he may not be egoistic, apologising isn't something either of you are good at. It's always been that way. A constant push and pull, a tug of war, a battle of wills, seeing you caves in first, who loses first. Hardly a healthy partnership, but what you had with him made it all worth it. More than worth it. He's the closest thing to a soulmate you'll ever have. If they do in fact exist, he's your other half.

He once was. He always will be.

"I- I just.. I'm sorry, baby."

Ice cold panic grips your heart, the external cold fading by comparison. He's apologized twice in a row now, and while your past self would call it improvement, in this moment, dread is the only sentiment you feel.

You stay silent, stepping on the race, praying he doesn't pick up on the sound of your engine accelerating.

A long moment of daunting silence later, he says something you don't understand, or rather refuse to understand.

"I took too much."

Its beyond refusal, a feeling akin to denial.

You deny to process what he just said, what he just implied, what he just meant.

"Stay right where you are," so, much like everything else, you choose to ignore it.

He seems taken aback for all of three seconds before his tone softens, "You coming to get me?"

You choose to ignore this too, convincing yourself that this is just mindless rambling to him.

His words suddenly hold no weight, his confessions empty.

Like always.

You glance at the GPS mounted to the dash.

One kilometre away.

"Do you remember when I kissed you?"

"You've kissed me more times than I can count."

Even as your heart is splitting in two, even after the recent realisation, you somehow find yourself reponding.

It's honestly all you've been wanting since he walked out of the bedroom, out of the apartment, out of your life that late September night.

"That day. The day of the first snow. The day we met."

You don't respond.

He takes it as a sign to continue.

"I knew it then. I know you knew it too."

Eight hundred metres.

"That you were for me. And I you."

Silence from your end again.

"How did we end up here?"

You know how. He knows how.

Five hundred metres.

Suddenly, a loud beep resounds, the call abruptly ending. That sends you into a chill panic, grip on the gear tightening. You pull over, and try tracing his location again. To no avail.

The location is gone. The ringtone goes straight to voicemail. Messages not delivering.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to remind yourself between deep breaths that he's capable of taking care of himself.

But then comes a gush of memories. Of a time when he walked straight into a pole while facetiming you once. You'd laughed then and called him a manchild.

The memory, albeit fond, doesn't help ease your worries, only aggravating the uneasy churn of your stomach.

Exhaling loudly, you talk yourself down your own anxiety first, realising that this is the first step if you want to have any chance at getting to him.

This is the general location, you remember. Once again, you kick start your car, the frantic rumble of the engine echoing down the empty roads, signifying the urgency of the affair.

It takes another twenty minutes and a slow drive down the snowy streets for you to spot a silhouette in the distance.

The person is slumped down against a rusty pole, back pressed to it, long legs propped up with feet flat on the snow covered pavement, head resting on the bend of their elbow thrown over upward knees. With their head buried in the crook of their arm, their face isn't visible, the thick smog hovering around them adding to the haze.

But it's a silhouette you'd recognize anywhere.

Those legs that you were trapped between during stolen moments of vulnerability.

Those large palms that held you down while you shook from the white hot pleasure the same hands brought you.

That soft blonde mop of hair that tickled your inner thighs when the same head was buried in your heat, almost every chilly night like today. And every warm one too.

You don't know when you got off your car, for now you find yourself looking down at the same silky golden locks.

Your boots sink into the snow, the ice underneath them melting.

He gives no indication of knowing of your arrival, and you wonder if he's managed to somehow fall asleep here.

Tiny snowflakes having made themselves home on his hair, almost forming a halo, he looks angelic. You reach out, wanting to dust them off his head before your stop, hand hovering.

You're suddenly tentative, when you didn't hesitate to tug on these very locks whenever he was in you.

That simple knowledge brings forth the harsh reality.

He's here. Right in front of you. Yet so far away.

Hand still in air, you're entirely unprepared when his head suddenly shoots up, palm grabbing your wrist.

"Baby?" his voice is gravelly, eyes bleary.

Yet he's the most perfect piece of art you ever did see.

He's gorgeous, your mind says to you— as if the fact could've ever been hidden, been denied even in incoherence.

But it's when you look closely that it comes crashing down. The realisation.

His slim face is gaunt now, eyes red and hazy, bags prominent. He's gorgeous, sure, but not as stunning as he once was.

You're suddenly knocked off balance, back pressing into the pole he was just resting on, the surface hot from his warmth.

It takes far too long for you to perceive what it is that's actually happening. His fingers dig into your hips, large palms splayed over your back, winding to the front, thumbs meeting. Warm breath tickles your neck, forcing out a gasp of your own.

"You're here," his voice is hushed, reverent even, afraid that the illusion of you would disappear any moment.

You nudge his shoulder, trying to shake him off, albeit unwillingly.

He removes himself from where he's nestled, looks you in the eye before closing them, forehead resting against yours.

From what you were able to make from that brief glimpse into his orbs, they're bloodshot, not the kind that result from lack of sleep nor the ones that speak of tiredness.

No, they are indicative of him being far away from the realm of normal thinking. It's the excuse you allow yourself to live, the reason you don't push him off you.

He's not thinking.

His tongue darts out, gliding over the plump of his lower lip, the texture of which you know by heart. Parting open, quick breaths leave him, and the proximity is to blame for the fact that it goes right into your mouth.

He puffs rapidly as if suddenly breathless, lips quivering, seemingly trying to find something to say, or perhaps trying to not say what his heart wants to.

"Tell me you're real this time."

This time?

"Hyun—"

"Just- just tell me you're really here," his eyes open slowly, drowsily, forehead still pressed into yours, hands sliding from your hip up your sides, caressing, feeling, landing on your nape.

Once again they circle you, this time overlapping over the back of your neck as he pulls you closer still, "That I'm not making you up again."

"What happened to you?" looking into his eyes again, you know it's not him. He's gone. For now.

So it's more of a question to yourself than to him.

What happened to him? What happened to your artist, your lover, your Hyunjin?

And just as you surmised, your question fell on deaf ears for he is a man on a mission.

"Baby, you're here right? With me? You came to me?"

Moving to close your nimble hands over his big ones, you relish in their warmth for a moment, the reason of said unnatural heat another thing you choose to ignore for now.

You can wallow in guilt by yourself later. All you want.

But now that you've allowed yourself this moment of weakness with him, you plan to bank on it.

"Yes, Hyun, it's me. I'm here."

Encircling your arms around broad shoulders, you pull him to you, into you. His own hands slip to your hips, squeezing you right back.

"I keep seeing you everywhere, everyday. Wherever I am. Whenever I'm awake."

You think you hear a sob, but don't let it show, for you're not immune to the sorrow either.

Maybe the apathetic front was just that, after all. A front. One you had to put up, one you had to believe in— fool yourself into believing in, if only for self preservation.

"You're not making me up this time."

He doesn't reply with words, doesn't need to. The way his hold on you tightens, lips brushing the side of your neck speaks volumes.

Hot, wet kissed trail up the column of your throat, their heat melting off any snow falling on you. Surroundings be damned, you throw your head back, giving him the silent consent.

That seems to be invitation enough for him, as his kisses turn to sucking, sucking turns to biting. He's marking you, something he enjoyed partaking in quite a lot back in the day, and you already know the colour of each of the marks that he's leaving, only through the pressure and the ratio of tongue-teeth action he spares your skin.

You permit it, indulging him, indulging yourself.

But it's when he noses his way to your jaw and finally lifts up to look into your eyes that you're reminded of reality, of his incapacitated state.

You jolt back, practically shoving him off.

He's understandably puzzled, brows creasing, panting.

"Wh— did I do something wrong? I remember you liked when I did this? You don't anymore?"

"No. It's not that. I do like it. Maybe even more than before."

The crease to his forehead eases out as he takes a single step forward, to which you take one of your own. In the opposite direction.

He stops dead in his tracks, the bend to his brows deeper than before.

"Baby, why are you going away from me?"

You try not to look into his eyes, the branching redness visibly growing new stems by the second.

"Don't go away from me."

Unlike what some might assume, you're not put off, not repulsed by gleam to his eyes, nor by their sanguinence. In not too proud of a moment, you'd say you're even used to it.

It's what you see every time you look into the mirror. What you hate, what you need.

A vicious cycle. A cursed affair.

The glint in your eye reflects his, ignites his, the two light beams meeting to string together.

The profane symphony. The impious consonance.

You did try. Tried not to let it take over you, it's been more than half a day since you last indulged in a sniff, after all. But Hyunjin is nothing if not a vice to your repressive instincts.

Your kryptonite. Your aphrodisiac.

One look at his bloodhsot eyes and you know this is it. He is the one. Who else could be the other half to your broken, tattered soul? Who else could be the mirror image of your own intoxicated orbs? Who else could slot into your cracks?

He steps forward, and this time you don't have it in you to recoil. Closing your lids, you let him snake his arms around your waist, pull you impossibly close. His face finds the comfort of your neck again, hot breathe laced with desperation marking the seeping away of the last of your restraint, taking with it any hope you had to do this right. For once.

"Don't go."

You've known him long enough to realise he's pulling apart your guard, piece by excruciating piece. You've known yourself long enough to realise you're caving, embracing the pain that is him.

"Let's get you home."

You don't see anything, too consumed in the fire that is him, his touch.

You're kissing him like you need him to breath. He's kissing you like he needs you to survive.

His hands pull down the zipper to your shirt, legs guiding you back onto the bed proper, step by step.

You land on your back with a soft thud, shirt thrown off somewhere. His own following suit soon after.

His eyes land onto the black lace adorning your chest, shining and all too inviting. The same lace he got you for your two year anniversary, the same lace he had you in that day, the same lace he had you in on countless days after that.

He places one knee between your legs, the duvet dipping, and nuzzles his face in your cleavage, taking in a long inhale.

Nosing about, he whispers, "Are you doing this on purpose?"

You know what he means. He never failed to mention what this set did to him, to his brain, his length. And you'd made it a point to use it against him every chance you got.

Today however, was not that chance, but you're grateful for the fateful coincidence.

He gets up only to slowly peel off your leggings and partially hovers over you, knee between your legs again, this time much closer to the warmth of your core.

His eyes trail down your figure, taking in all the curves, the crevices. Remembering all that once was his, learning all that he wasn't there to witness during your time apart.

His hands gently move up and down your sides, caressing and massaging, eyes going back and forth between the two lace pieces.

They're the same pair, but your body has changed quite a bit since he last had you in it.

You've somehow managed to surpass your own beauty and it's nothing if not a detriment to his sanity.

And his stamina. He's suddenly not too proud of it, if the exponential build up of his arousal is any indication.

The heavy caresses have now pushed you down the bed, your heat coming in contact with the rough patch of denim on his knee. You gasp at the contact, your core tender from how drenched you are from all his staring and fondling.

He picks up on it and uses his hold on your hips to begin grinding you on his knee. You groan, your thin silky lace and his thick rough denim adding to your arousal. Never would you have imagined that simple gliding, over the confines of clothes no less, could feel this good.

This is what being with Hyunjin is always like. Trying, experimenting, tapping into uncharted territory, with the knowledge of safely, of assurance, of security.

Sleeping with him, you got to know of your own body, what made it tick, your likes, your turn ons.

Being with him, you got to know of yourself, what made you you, your talents, your strengths.

Existing with him, simply made you whole.

So if this is all you get, you'd be content.

Moans and whimpers echo in the room that's now empty without his studio table nestled in the corner, without his clothes piled up in random heaps, without music equipment thrown astrew on the wooden floor.

Empty. Empty. Empty. Without him.

"Goddess."

A loud moan rips from your throat, the sound unholy. Your eyes snap open, in shock of your own reaction.

"You like that?"

Staring up at him with wide eyes, you're not sure what to say. It's yet another uncharted territory, yet another epiphany. And you're grateful it's with him.

Leaning forward he captures your lips between his soft ones, tongued clashing, spit mixing, swaying his head side to side, smearing your collective essence all over your cheeks and jaws.

"Like it, my goddess?"

Another equally loud moan echoes, even as his grinding has ceased. Your response is unprompted, no physical stimulation in sight.

While it might have been embarrassing, you're anything but.

Simply because it's him.

And you're not yourself. And he's not himself.

But you're together. All else rendered trivial.

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