#lives rent free in my head? i fucking meant it

[razzle-zazzle]

wait, what's eye for an eye about?

Okay, okay, so, I know I've talked about it before, but do you recall how, in Tournament of Elements, when Garmadon was describing how Chen turned allies against the Elemental Alliance in the Serpentine War, the EM we're shown attacking the Elemental Alliance is an Earth Master? Because that detail lives rent-free in my head all the time.

So Eye for an Eye is based off of that; assuming the Earth Master we're shown is Lily's father and not a pre-transition Lily, then I can assume a lot of things from that scene. Like, say, that Shane (what I've been calling Lily's father since before Lily had her own canon name) was disgraced by it, or regretted it deeply. So then Eye for an Eye is about a cycle that that manipulation starts. Shane turns against the alliance during the war, so Lily starts cracking down on Chen's noodle mafia vigilante-style in retaliation, to which Chen retaliates by having her son abducted onto his island.

So Cole grows up on Chen's island, working in the factory, and because Chen is. well. awful Cole's not gonna have a good time. And so as Cole grows and the canon plot of ToE progresses, he finds himself with the ability to continue the cycle of revenge between his family and Chen, or to end it entirely. And since he grew up in the abrasive and distrusting environment that Chen constructed to keep the cult and factory workers in line, Cole could very well end up taking his own revenge instead of breaking the cycle.

tl;dr Chen had Cole kidnapped and brought to his island as a child and Cole does not have a good time there

[iaus]

prompt for a mini fic: jace and porter at elmville pride

crying i did my best but i will admit..... i haven't been to pride because....... the pride scene in my local area is.......... uh. well. i would share the tiktok my friend shared with me about this year's pride but it will absolutely doxx me.

anyway. unrelated. do you think porter would wear something like this.

T / 475 words

The idea originates with Lucilla.

The problem with Lucilla is that even Jace has trouble being cruel to her at times. It doesn’t help that he was her mentor for her first two years at the academy. He’s become indulgent with her as apology for his hands off approach with mentoring. He’d said to her, once, when he was a few too many drinks in that he wishes she had more backbone.

He’s his own worst enemy it seems.

Lucilla is peering at him, already smiling. She knows. She knows she’s already won.

“I think it’d be a fun bonding experience,” she says sweetly. He hates that he knows she truly means no malice from it. “We’ve put so much work into the Pride features this year and it would mean a lot to me if you came.”

He hates good alignments. He hates them for their propensity for kindness.

“We’ll be sure to drop by,” Porter drawls, answering for him before Jace can even attempt an excuse.

Jace hates him too.

Lucilla smiles—all sunshine and not knowing what she’s done.

“I told you—”

“You said you wouldn’t go Bastion City. Never said anything about Elmville.”

He’s infuriating. “I will not go if you wear cargo shorts.”

Porter winks at him—Jace cannot believe this is the man he is sleeping with.

-

He almost slams the door in Porter’s face when he comes to pick him up.

“It’s not cargo shorts,” Porter says, as if he’s completely unaware of what he’s doing. Jace knows better. “Not my first rodeo, y’know, but I figured it still fit—”

He’s going to have an attack.

He should have known, but now he’s here. Standing on the stoop of his townhouse in linen shorts and an unbuttoned silk, pink shirt and Porter is in leather. He has to not pull Porter back in and—

Lucilla asked him to show up. She’s performing. He’s going to do this. He will ignore the fact that Porter is in a tiny white shirt and leather pants and jacket, and he will stink by the end of the day. Jace feels warm.

“You good, sweetheart?” Porter’s grinning. He puts a hand on Jace’s cheek. “Seem a little flushed.”

“You realize it’s June. It’s summer.”

Porter laughs, he throws an arm around Jace’s shoulder. “C’mon, you’ll have fun. Promise.”

-

The worst thing is Porter’s right. Lucilla’s right. It’s fun. If a bit too loud, a bit too warm.

He might end up tipsy—clinging to Porter like he’s a lifeline in the surge of more people than he would have ever anticipated. Porter wraps a rainbow scarf around his neck at some point and he’s so heat exhausted and fuzzy from the drinks that he accepts it.

Doesn’t even mind it when Porter kisses him at the end of Lucilla’s set.

[altruistic-meme]

im so incapable of being normal about this photo.

not only are they walking from the shadows and the darkness and into the light. not only are they doing it together. but they are doing it holding hands. so, so lightly. because despite it all, this is still new. holding hands like this is so new to them, and we know this has to be RIGHT after Wilhelm's speech. it's out there now, "Okay, everybody, I'm queer. This is my boyfriend, I'm in love with this guy. Ta-ta."

and it's scary. but they're together. their entire relationship has had to be behind closed doors, but those doors are open now, leading to a brighter place. and for once they're stepping through those doors together. in s1, Wilhelm tried to cross the threshold alone: denying the video allowed him to escape from that public scrutiny, but it denied him Simon too. in s2, Simon tried to go alone: moving on with Marcus gave him the option of normalcy he would never be able to have with Wilhelm, but he learned that he could lose Wilhelm entirely. now, finally, s3 they are going together: same foot, same time, holding on to each other because they can't, they won't deny their feelings for each other any more. they've both made it clear now, "Jag älskar dig", they want to be together.

and they finally are. they're together, in the open, in the light, in love.

[ssaalexblake]

the missy saying to Clara in that dalek cave that a hopeless doctor would burn them all to dhawan!master mentally torturing thirteen and dragging her down further and further into her own trauma that she’d deliberately burn them all out of hopelessness pipeline 

[artdcnaldson]

NEED art and patrick to find out I'm a virgin and offer to teach me how to kiss and how to fuck and use eachother as examples and guide me and tell me I'm doing a good job and reward me for being such a good student and come back later and quiz me to see if I remember everything they taught me ugh obsessed with them individually and as a unit

This has lived rent free in my mind for literally forever. I can’t stop thinking about it, it haunts my every waking moment.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Making out, Handjob lessons, guys being pervs, not a love triangle they just all want to fuck each other

A/N: unedited bc I wrote this while on the clock okay whatever. Enjoyyyy and if u want me to continue this lmk >:)

“I think it’s sweet,” Patrick said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice, practically dripping from every syllable. “The last American virgin. You belong in a museum.”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your empty Taco Bell cup at him— the ice rattled and it leaked a puddle of condensation onto the ground. “You could try not to be a dick about it.”

Art’s dorm room was hot and sticky thanks to a faulty AC, which meant the three of you lounging on the floor by his open window, sucking down soda watered down by melted ice cubes. You were down to a T-shirt and shorts, they were down to their boxers. It wasn’t lost on you that it was an intimate situation to be in— barely dressed, crammed into the shoebox of a dorm. And of course Patrick had dug his fingers in until you admitted your secret— you had made it all the way to college totally unfucked.

Patrick leaned forward, smiling the smarmy smile that tended to wear at your last nerve. “So you’re a virgin, but like,” he leaned in, so close you could feel body heat radiating from him. He dropped his voice, just above a whisper. “How much of a virgin, really? You’ve at least gone to third, right?” You glared, but shook your head.

“Second?” Art supplied, suddenly jumping in with an eager sort of curiosity.

“What? No, I don’t even know what that means,” you admitted. You sighed before you spoke up. “I’ve only ever kissed one guy and one girl, and it was during a game of spin the bottle, like, junior year.”

“How?” Patrick asked.

Your brows furrowed. “How? I spun the bottle, it landed on the person, I leaned in, put my lips against theirs, and that was it.”

Patrick sighed. “Just fucking show me how.” He looked at you expectantly, inching even closer.

With an annoyed sigh, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his— mouth closed, lips firm. When you sat back, Patrick and Art were both grinning.

“What?” You asked with a frown.

“That’s how you kiss on the playground in elementary school,” Art said, unable to contain his laughter. “C’mere.”

You crawled forward, stopping in front of the blond. His hand settled on your jaw, coaxing you forward.

His lips met yours softly, sweetly. It was easy to lose yourself in the feeling of Art’s mouth, in the gentle brushes of his lips against yours and the way he held your face so tenderly.

The feeling of his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips was strange, but you welcomed it, letting him lick into your mouth.

Each pass of his tongue against yours drew you deeper and deeper into it, into him. You moved into his lap without realizing it, kissing him with sweet, timid laps of your tongue.

Art pulled back first, his cheeks soft and pink and so pretty. “See? That’s how you’re supposed to kiss someone. That was really good.”

You laughed softly, and moved off of his lap sheepishly. Patrick leaned forward, brushing your hair back, holding your face in his hand.

“Okay, show me what Art showed you,” he instructed, then leaned in.

Kissing Patrick was different than kissing Art. He was hungrier, more insistent. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he wanted to chart every inch. You did your best to match what he offered, to kiss the way Art had just shown you, sweetly, like you really meant it.

And you did mean it. Patrick’s hands moved along your side, up until they cupped your tits through your shirt. You moaned softly into his mouth— the sound was muffled, met with a moan of his own. He gave an experimental squeeze of your tits and you whined softly. So he did it again, amused by the pretty, sweet noises you mewled out.

Patrick was getting hard, pressing against your thigh. It was a new sensation that you were hyper aware of as you unconsciously ground yourself against him.

You pulled back first, cheeks burning hot after you remembered Art was right beside you. You tucked unkempt hair behind your ear, smiled bashfully. “How was I?”

“Good,” Patrick said.

At the same time Art supplied, “So good.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Okay. Cool.”

Art was squirming, fidgeting, holding a pillow over his lap. Patrick was less covert— opting to openly adjust himself, drawing more attention to the fact that he was hard. You rolled your eyes and stole the nearest cup you could find, sipping at watered down Mountain Dew.

“Do you want me to leave?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. Your teeth dug into the plastic straw as you looked between the two of them.

Art stammered, mortified, but Patrick just smiled dizzyingly over at you. “I can teach you something else. You got to first base, so why don’t you steal second?”

You rolled your eyes, but heat flared behind your cheeks. Jesus Christ, he was such a smug asshole. “I still don’t know what that means,” you said, feeling a little embarrassed.

He grinned and mimed jerking off. Your eyes widened, and you laughed softly. “That would be weird,” you said, half-believing it. “Like, if I did jerk one of you off, that leaves one of you just watching.”

You glanced at Art, who looked just as interested as Patrick did, and your heart stammered nervously. “What if I show you how you do it on Art? Look at him— he’s the perfect little practice dummy.” Patrick reached over, pinching at Art’s cheek until the blond kicked his shin.

“Show me?” You echoed. “Like… you’re going to do it to him, and I do it to you?”

Patrick nodded, leaning into Art’s side, his smarmy smile dissolved into something needier. Art swallowed hard, lips parted slightly as he looked over at Patrick.

Patrick’s lips met his slowly, hungrily. You watched wide eyed as Patrick deepened the kiss, as Art eagerly accepted the other boy’s tongue into his mouth.

Patrick threw the pillow out of Art’s lap and sent it careening into the desk on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes widened at the sight of Art, hard and tenting his boxers. Patrick palmed him in his large hands making the blonde whimper into his mouth and buck up, seeking friction.

You swallowed hard, biting down on the straw as you watched Patrick tug at the elastic of Art’s boxers. Art lifted his hips to allow Patrick to tug them down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock to both of you.

“See,” Patrick gasped, leaning back from their kiss. Art chased his lips fruitlessly, mouth ajar, waiting for more. “He’s so fucking easy. Come feel.”

You moved closer, looking at Art for permission. When he nodded, you reached out, letting your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft. He exhaled a shuddery breath, eyes fluttering shut. Patrick’s hand covered yours, guiding you to squeeze around his length.

He was warm under your touch, silky soft, pulsing in your grip. Your heart hammered just at that— at the feel of him in your hand. “Feels nice, huh? Knowing how much he wants you.” You nodded, then slid your fist up, testing the waters. Art moaned softly, throbbed in your grip, aching for more. Patrick smiled like the cat who got the cream. “Hands off, just watch me.”

Patrick spat into his hand and replaced your hand with his own. The second Patrick curled his fingers around Art and started stroking him slowly, the blond was mewling for more. “Fuck,” he moaned, his forehead knocking against Patrick’s, mouth open, panting. “That’s good, feels good.”

You watched Patrick rub his thumb over Art’s tip, eyes widening as Art really whimpered for it, hips thrusting up into Patrick’s fist, chasing more of the pleasure the brunet offered.

“You get it now?” Patrick asked. You nodded quickly, and he tugged down his own boxers. “Fuck, okay— fucking show me.”

Your heart hammered with nerves, but you nodded. You held your hand out and spit into it, mimicking what Patrick had done before you wrapped your hand around his cock.

He felt bigger in your hands, but you didn’t say that. One, you worried it might piss Art off, and two, he didn’t need the ego boost. And he was slick, beading precum at his tip so each pass of your hands felt slicker and slicker.

And you couldn’t help but want to be an asshole. “You’re wet like a girl,” you said with a smirk, gliding your thumb over his tip.

And he was shameless, nodding with a sly grin. “That means I like you.” He panted, moaning softly. “Besides, I bet your fucking panties aren’t dry right now.”

Well, fuck. You tried to ignore the rush of heat in your belly that those words caused, to focus only on the glide of your hand on Patrick’s cock— up and down, copying his pace on Art, copying the ways he’d squeeze and twist his hand.

Art was moaning, rutting up into the tight sheath of Patrick’s fist, the muscles of his abdomen tensing and relaxing in unsteady jerks beneath his soft skin.

“Fuck— switch, switch,” Patrick said quickly. Art whined when Patrick stopped touching him, but it was ignored. “Want you to feel it when he comes.”

He guided your hand back onto Art’s cock and nodded for you to move. “Fuck, your hand’s so soft,” Art groaned. “Faster, faster, fuck—“ He was practically begging. You swallowed, increased the pace, squeezed him a little tighter.

Art was touching Patrick— jerking him off while you brought him closer and closer to finishing. Patrick leaned in, kissed you deeply, pulled Art in too until the three of you were a mess of tongues and lips and spit and hands.

Art came first— coating your hand in warm, slick cum, throbbing in your grip. He was panting into your and Patrick’s mouths, moaning softly as you continued to slowly work him through it. Patrick came next, once Art redoubled his effort, focused on making Patrick add to the mess covering your hands.

Patrick was loud, pornographic, messy. Art brought a cum covered hand between his lips, cleaning it up. Your eyes widened.

“Art, c’mon, you’re scandalizing her,” Patrick said, like you weren’t even there.

“Shut up,” you said, shoving him. He laughed and pulled his boxers back up. Art followed suit, and the three of you were left gross and sweating in the heat. You wiped your hand off on one of their discarded shirts and gave a sheepish smile.

They sat there, expectantly. Waiting for you to make the next call. There was a level of want in you, need, but the thought of asking for them to take care of it was mortifying. “Do you want to watch a movie or something now?”

[thebibliosphere]

Whenever I talk about the medical neglect and ableism I've encountered as a victim of the healthcare system, there's always some cockwaffle who feels entitled to come into my inbox and make the argument of "not all doctors" while talking about how "people like them" (because it's always someone in a field of medicine who does this) are doing their best and it's really hard because so many people fake being ill to get on welfare (Yikes), but like, yeah, obviously #not all doctors, because if all doctors were negligent, bullying scum bags, I'd be dead.

But here's the thing: while I truly believe that the majority of doctors are doing their best in a system stacked against them and their patients, their presence does not negate the mass harm caused by the bad ones. And there are far more bad ones than you realize.

Fuck, John Oliver literally did a segment on this last week:

Yes, the truly bad, malicious doctors are in the minority. Most are just horrifically burned out and fighting a losing battle against a system, killing both them and their patients through a lack of funding and resources and profound overwork.

But the malicious ones do exist, and they will go out of their way to harm patients who don't kowtow to them.

I almost lost my life because when I was in my early twenties, I told a doctor I didn't think she was listening to me, and I disagreed with her assessment of my mental health (she was not a mental health doctor, and I was there for heart palpitations and chronic pain). She retaliated by putting "non-compliant" in my file.

There was also a fun little "doesn't show respect" note too that lives rent-free in my head because I know I wasn't rude. I was polite. I just didn't agree with her, and my refusal to accept her off-handed comment that "you probably have bipolar or BPD" (again, I was there for heart palpitations and chronic pain) meant I was "refusing care."

I wasn't. I just refused to be slapped with a mood/personality disorder when I was there because I kept fucking fainting when I stood up.

(Spoiler alert: it was dysautonomia)

That "non-compliant" marker followed me around for years. It followed me across an ocean and effectively ensured that any doctor I saw was going to treat me like absolute dogshit because no one wants to help Difficult Patients. It wasn't until I was so undeniably ill, literally on the brink of death, that anyone helped me.

I'm alive because of a good doctor. And all the good ones that came after him because of him.

So, I know they exist. You don't have to tell me that.

But I really fucking need you to acknowledge the bad ones and that you're part of a system with a long, long history of abusing minorities and vulnerable people. I need you to acknowledge that because it's the only way we're going to survive this godforsaken nightmare and make things better.

So yeah, #notalldoctors, but if you feel the need to say that because someone talking about being literally left to die by the medical system hurts your feelings, I'm going to have to ask you to take a step back and ask yourself if you're going into medicine for the right reasons.

Namely: do you want to help people, even the "difficult" ones?

Even the ones who might disagree with you?

Even if they're on welfare?

Even if they'll never get "better" in a way that means "cured"?

Just a thought. But hey, what do I know. I'm just someone who experienced hemolytic anemia because doctors kept telling me I was anxious and needed to exercise more 🤷‍♀️.

[beloveds-embrace]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Matchmaking Buns

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ in which your bunnies inadvertently lead you into meeting your new neighbors, who are far too endeared by you from the get-go <3

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

The thing is, you absolutely adore your bunnies. Two holland lops, one mini lop, and a flemish giant all together with full freedom of your house and a big garden for them to play in- with a bet overhead to protect them against hawks and whatever else. Hell, they even have a patio in case it rains.

You absolutely adore them. You worked your ass off to have a house like this, and then have enough money and space to give them everything they need. They are the lights of your life.

Simultaneously, they might possibly be your biggest source of headache.

All this space, all these spots and nooks and crannies for them to hide and play in- and their favorite activity still remains having you chase them down the road like the incorrigible brats they are. None of your neighbors are surprised by the sight anymore, often helping you but right now there isn’t anyone around except a group of men that you ignore. They must be the new neighbors.

(God, your embarrassment will know no bound after this.)

“You fucking four bastards! Once I catch you- ugh!” You shout, aiming it at those little monsters that remain living rent-free in your house as you run fast after them. But-

Oh no. Oh noooo. The four men, the new neighbors, turn around at your shout; likely assuming you meant it at them. Only to have your bunnies barrel through and between their legs.

After this, once you get those brats back, you will have to join them in finding a burrow to hide in your garden. That’s the only solution.

God must be smiling down at you, though; God must be satisfied by the regular entertainment you provide, because the men catch the bunnies. All four men catch all your four bunnies. It’s almost hilarious seeing your mini-lop in the hands of the big(gest) dude with the surgical mask. The tiny bastard doesn’t even seem mildly bothered, just nosing around the man’s chin and mask. Your two holland hops are in the hands of a very pretty man- wow, what eyelash serum does he use?- and a man who is wearing a boonie hat. Your flemish giant chills in the hands of the one with the mohawk.

You slow down as you jog towards them, trying to catch your breath. The amusement and confusion on their faces would’ve almost been comical if you weren’t so embarrassed.

“Oh- oh my god, I’m so, so sorry-” You begin, cheeks pink. Fuck, you weren’t even anything that appropriate either; jean shorts and a rather thin top. “I’m sooo sorry, jesus christ. They- they usually don’t bother other people when they do this-“

“They do this often?” Boonie hat man raises an eyebrow, chuckling.

You nod, glaring down at the bunny who just… stares right back at you. Little beast. Evil little beast that enjoys your suffering. “Yeah… they get a certain joy out of my suffering. Once again, I’m so sorry-“

“Easy there, lass,” mohawk man grins at you, as does pretty man. You can’t tell what exoression their fourth might have on his face. Your flemish giant begins cleaning her face, unbothered. “They dinnae hurt noone… though maybe just yer lungs.”

As you gather your breath, still cradling your wayward bunnies, you glance up at the group of men and realize you haven’t even introduced yourself yet. Great. Chasing rabbits down the street and forgetting your manners? You’re on a roll today.

“I’m—uh, I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m [Name].” You gesture awkwardly toward your bunnies, still snuggled up in their rescuers’ arms. “And these are… my little troublemakers.”

The man with the boonie hat offers you a warm grin, extending his hand. “John Price. Looks like we’re neighbors now, love.”

You take his hand, appreciating the solid, firm shake and give him a smile. “Nice to meet you, John. And thanks again.”

The man with the mask remains silent but inclines his head, giving the tiniest of nods. He’s still holding your mini-lop, who’s completely unbothered, nosing at his mask like it’s a toy. “Simon.” he says in a low, gravelly voice.

His voice sends a tiny shiver down your spine. There’s something about his calm presence, even with your rebellious bunny in his grasp, that feels oddly reassuring. If anything, seeing your bunny si relaxed makes you far more willing to trust him. “Thanks, Simon. I appreciate it.”

The man with the mohawk steps forward, his grin as cheeky as ever. “Johnny MacTavish.” His Scottish accent rolls smoothly, and you can’t help but smile back. “Looks like yer big girl here likes me, huh?” He scratches behind your flemish giant’s ear, who responds by nudging into his hand.

You laugh. “Yeah, she’s usually shy, but I guess you’ve won her over.”

The last man, who had been standing back slightly, steps forward, still gently cradling one of your holland lops in his arms. “Kyle Garrick.” he says softly, his eyes flicking between you and the bunny. “They’re cute little things, aren’t they?”

You nod, heart warming a little. “Yeah, they are. And… a handful.”

For a brief moment, there’s a quiet, comfortable silence. You close your eyes and take in a deep, calming breath, not noticing the way all of them seem oddly focused on you—not in a bad way, but more like they’re genuinely interested.

“How do you take them back then?” John asks at last, breaking the silence. He’s almost absent-mindedly patting your bunny’s head.

“Well, I usually try to coax them with treats,” you say, opening your eyes to glance down at your bunnies. “but it seems like they’ve chosen chaos today, so no treats for them. I’ll just herd them back.” You shoot the bunnies a mock glare, earning a soft chuckle from Price.

“Seems like they’ve got a bit of personality,” Simon comments, his voice low. “Must’ve gotten that from you, yeah?”

You blink, caught off guard by his subtle tease. Was that a compliment? From him? You laugh softly, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. “Well, they’re stubborn, that’s for sure.”

Kyle, steps forward and holds the bunny out to you. “Here, love. Looks like he’s had his fun. Don’t worry, no harm done.”

You take the bunny from him, your fingers brushing his as you do. “Thanks,” you murmur, feeling a bit flustered by the warmth of his touch. “I was about ten seconds away from having a meltdown.”

Johnny leans forward, his grin widening even as he hands over your flemish giant. One by one, you get back all your bunnies. “Aye, ye seemed like ye were in a bit of a panic. But nae need to be embarrassed, lass. We’ve all got our little burdens.”

Your eyes dart to his, catching a mischievous twinkle there. He’s definitely enjoying this a little too much.

You sigh dramatically, still cradling your mischievous bunnies. You set them down, and like the most obedient angels ever, they just hop and wait around your feet. “They’re more than burdens, they’re the bane of my existence sometimes. But I love them.”

Price chuckles, arms crossed over his broad chest. “It’s good you care about them that much. Not everyone would go to such lengths for their pets.”

You smile sheepishly. “Yeah, well… they’re my kids, basically. Little fluffy nightmares, but I love them.” You glance up at the group, unable to hide your appreciation for their help. “I seriously owe you guys. Maybe a drink sometime? Or dinner? As a proper thank you and welcome, of course.”

Simon shifts slightly, eyes still on you, though his face remains unreadable behind the mask. Johnny shoots him a look, then turns back to you with a grin. “Would nae wanna bother ye, lass-“

You blink, quickly shaking your head. “Oh, no, it won’t be a bother at all! I mean, it’s the least I can do after… all of this.” You gesture vaguely at the situation. Your mini-lop flops down near Simon, likely expecting pats.

Johnny’s grin deepens, and he exchanges a look with Price. “We’ll hold ye to that, lass. What day works for ye?”

You laugh nervously, cheeks still warm. “I’ll… I’ll figure something out and let you know.”

Kyle gives you a soft, reassuring smile. “We’ll be looking forward to it. And don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye out for any runaway bunnies in the meantime.”

As the men begin to head back to their place, Johnny calls out over his shoulder, “Remember- dinner, lass! No backing out!”

You roll your eyes with a playful smile but can’t help feeling flustered as you watch them go, and then laugh a little when Simon smacks the back of Johnny’s head, your heart beating a little faster. When they’re out of sight, you glance down at your bunnies.

“Thanks for the assist, you little terrors,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Now I owe them dinner. Perfect.”

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Part 2

Masterpost + interactions, comments, reblogs and everything in between is very much encouraged 🫶🏻

[idolomantises]

I haven't drawn Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss redesigns since last year and the fandom still regularly tags me/picks fights with me over them. I did not think a couple drawings would live in people's heads so rent free.

Like you can go find my redesigns on twitter, they're still very public. I just label them as "Angel Dust redesign" or "Alastor redesign". The only time I think I explicitly called a design bad was when I said I found Beelzebub's design atrocious. Which it is. It's an overdesigned mess that doesn't convey the sin at all, I'm allowed to say I don't like it. And even still, when I posted the art, I still labeled it as "Beelzebub redesign".

I'm not going to forget when you fans regularly stalked my account and PATREON just to figure out when I would upload the redesigns. You think I forgot about when I posted my Angel Dust redesign which was just meant to improve my old design and you people harassed me for days? You accused me of "baiting" fans because you are so self-obsessed you think everything I do is explicitly to upset you. You people misgendered me, told me to kill myself, called me a fucking cockroach and flat out threatened to assault me multiple times. Sure I was harsh about my critiques, but I didn't resort to homophobic and transphobic comments like you people did with my Angel Dust redesign because for some unexplained reason you diehard fans who have been following this project for 10 years didn't know that he's meant to be a drag queen. When I did a quick redesign of Katie Killjoy on my personal tumblr, guess what? You people flipped the fuck out, AGAIN.

I can't even talk about my own religion without you sad, paranoid losers thinking I'm trashtalking hazbin hotel. You made up some rumor that I block all Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss fans (despite being mutuals/friends with people who are fans of the shows or actually work on them) just so you could justify harassing me even more. You told me for years that I should wait until the Hazbin series dropped to get my full thoughts out and when it did you people still freaked out and berated me.

Even when I talked about my situation after posting my Angel Dust redesign, instead of apologizing, fans claimed I planned this hostile reaction to begin with to make the fandom look bad. That I was "pulling a transphobia card" for sympathy. I didn't do shit. You people have gotten more aggressive about your hate towards me because people finally saw how incredibly inappropriate and vile you people act over a midtier cartoon written by someone who has so many allegations of bullying, transphobia, racism and workplace abuse that it's become harder and harder for you to deny, so you take out your unrepressed anger on me.

I know the only reason you people target me is because I'm a big artist who doesn't kiss Viv's ass. You want me to be a diehard fan of hers like every other big artist you people bully into worshipping Viv and her show and I won't do it. So you just obsessively stalk and monitor my account and accuse every little thing I do as a spiteful attack so you can justify your little harassment campaigns again. It's pathetic.

Seek help, find a hobby, stop obsessing over people who don't like the same thing as you. It's getting sad.

[fully-caulked-wagon]

I think about this sometimes.

[svtiddiess]

Louder Baby

Synopsis: You're with Seungcheol again, but this time, you're putting on a show for someone.

Pairing: Seungcheol x afab!stylist!reader ft. Jeonghan

Genre: smut, mini-series, fwb to lovers?

Rating: mature

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), mentions of body fluids, exhibitionism, voyeurism, oral (fem receiving), breast play, creampie, mean dom!Cheol, sub!reader, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: This is part of a three part series, reading part 1 and part 2 will help a lot with the context!

@tomodachiii she's here, I hope the ending is to your satisfaction. I'll miss this couple ngl.

@brownsugarbaybee wasn't expecting a part 3 were you baby?

Click here to join my taglist!

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.��

Why am I even here?

Was the first thought that rang through your mind as you stood outside, waiting for him to open the door. You tugged your hat lower and pulled your mask higher, paranoid that someone might recognise you. You shouldn't be here; you're not standing in front of some random person's apartment; you're standing in front of Choi Seungcheol's apartment. You shift from side to side, getting antsy.

This is a bad idea. I shoul-

Before you can finish your thought, the door swings open, and your heart skips a beat. There he is, the man who lives in your mind rent-free, Choi Seungcheol. He's wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a black fitted T-shirt, which makes your knees go weak. You almost moan at the sight.

"Hey baby, sorry to keep you waiting. C'mon in," he says as he steps to the side, flashing you a lazy smirk. You quickly shuffle in, keeping your head down. You look around his apartment and are pleasantly surprised to find everything so neat. You jump when you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders from behind.

"Calm down baby, no need to be so tense," he softly says as he rubs your arms in an attempt to calm you down. "I don't bite," he whispers as he shifts to move in front of you. He leans in close, his lips next to your ear. "Unless you want me to," he purrs, then leans back with a lopsided grin painting his face. You blush furiously and look away from him.

"You can ditch the hat and the mask. It's safe in here, promise," he says as he steps back, giving you room to catch your breath and remove the clothing items. You nod and slowly remove your hat and mask; you don't notice how Seungcheol's breath slightly hitches at the sight of you.

"Beautiful as always," he says as his eyes rake your figure, making you blush. "I'm glad you came. I didn't want our guest to be disappointed."

Wait, guest?

Before you could ask what he meant by that he leads you to what you assume is his bedroom. As you enter, your heart stills at the sight of the so-called 'guest' Seungcheol mentioned.

Yoon Jeonghan.

He's sitting on a sofa placed in the corner of the room, legs spread and a smirk on his face. You look towards Seungcheol for answers.

"Jeonghan said ever since he saw you that day he couldn't stop thinking about you," Seungcheol states as he gets closer to you and cups your face. "He said he wanted to watch you get fucked by me, so let's put on a show for him, shall we, baby?"

He waits for your reply, but when he doesn't get one, his smirk turns into a frown. "Hey, if you don't wanna do this, you can go back home. No one's forcing you to be here," he reassures you, gently caressing your cheek. Your eyes widen, and you shake your head. "N-No! I want…this," you shyly state, blush dusting your cheeks. Seungcheol smiles and gently guides your lips to his. His lips capture yours into a gentle kiss, different from last time.

The kiss slowly got rougher as you allowed Seungcheol to take control. His hands roam your body as he sucks on your bottom lip. You moan as you relax into his hold. He takes his time in savouring the kiss as, unlike the last time, he has all the time in the world to relish you. He separates his lips from yours and then attaches them to your neck, leaving marks as he starts guiding you to the bed. You couldn't help but let out soft whimpers when his teeth started digging into your skin, marking you as his.

He guides you to lie down on the bed with your legs hanging off. He grins as he shifts to kneel in front of you. Your breath hitches, and you instinctively close your legs together. Seungcheol stops you and pries your legs wide open with ease. "Uh-uh, I wanna taste you baby," he says, then starts undoing the button of your pants. You sit up, resting on your elbows, and bite your bottom lip as Seungcheol undresses your pants. You make brief eye contact with Jeonghan and couldn't help but blush and quickly look away which makes Jeonghan chuckle softly.

You let out a soft yelp and look back down at Seungcheol, who looks at you whilst biting your inner thigh whilst pouting, if that was even possible. He furrows his eyebrows as if to say, 'Pay attention to me,' and goes back to placing more marks on your inner thighs. You let out soft whimpers of his name and plead with him not to tease. You feel him smirk against your thigh, then shift to move towards your core. He hovers right infront of it but doesn't do anything; he just looks at you with a cocky expression. You let out a whine of frustration and buck your hips up, but he holds you down with a single hand on your lower stomach.

"Seungcheol, please," you whine, getting frustrated with his teasing. "Please, what, baby?" He cocks his head and pulls away even more frustrating you even further. "Please. I…I need your tongue," you mumble the last part.

"Hm? What was that? I couldn't hear you baby," he teases with a shit-eating grin on his face. "I need your tongue, please!" You almost yell, which makes Seungcheol chuckle.

He dives in and licks a stripe up your panty-clad core, moaning at the taste. You let out a moan at the feeling of some sort of relief. He continues to lick you through your panties, making your already wet panties even wetter. "Seungcheol, please," you whine.

"What is it baby? You asked for my tongue, and I'm giving it to you," he teases. You throw your head back and let out a frustrated whine, which only makes him laugh. "Maybe if you beg nicely…" he murmurs with a grin.

You start begging with tears of frustration pricking your eyes. You can hear him and Jeonghan laugh, which makes you blush hard but also makes you wetter. He then peels off your panties, making you squirm. "Make sure to scream my name out loud, baby," he says with a wink before diving in. You gasp and moan as you feel him suck on your clit. You grab onto Seungcheol's hair and tug, which makes him growl, sending vibrations through you. You moan his name out loud when his tongue starts prodding into you, lapping up all your juices. You make eye contact with Jeonghan and can't help but moan even louder; somehow, him watching you brings you closer to the edge.

Seungcheol noses your clit, and you cum, hard, legs closing around him, but he holds it open and continues to lap you up, driving your body into overstimulation. You whine at him to stop, and after a few more licks, he sits up; you almost cum a second time just looking at him, hair dishevelled and your juices dripping down his chin. He shifts to move on top of you and kisses you messily, making you taste yourself.

He separates from you and quickly discards any remaining clothing items separating the both of you. Your breath hitches at the sight of him fully naked. You run your hand down his well-built torso, almost drooling at the sight, making him smirk. "Like what you see, baby?" He asks cockily, causing you to blush.

He dives in, savouring your breasts, kneading and marking them, causing you to arch your back and moan his name. You moan and roll your eyes back when he slowly enters you. He gives you a moment to adjust to his huge size before starting to pound into you. You moan his name and grab onto his shoulders, digging into his skin and earning a hiss from him.

"Go on baby, tell Jeonghan how good I'm making you feel," he purrs in between thrusts. "So good, feel so full," you manage to whimper out, fuelling Seungcheol's ego.

"I'm the only one who can make you feel this way, right baby?" He asks, to which you attempt to answer but can only respond with broken moans.

Your eyes drift to where Jeonghan is sitting, and you can see his hard-on straining against his pants. You moan at the thought of the lewd scene taking place in the room, you getting ruthlessly fucked by Seungcheol as Jeonghan watches, the sounds of wet squelching and the smell of sex filling the room; it all brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm close," you pant out. Seungcheol sneaks his hand down to your clit and rubs it in circles, tipping you over the edge. You squeeze around him, and your juices drip onto the bed. He continues to pound into you, chasing after his own high. He cums with a growl filling you up to the brim, your mixed fluids soaking the sheets below you.

You both take a minute to catch your breath. He looks into your eyes and gently caresses your cheek before leaning in to capture your lips into a tender kiss. You melt into the kiss, savouring the feeling of his soft lips against yours. He separates from the kiss and stares into your eyes, searching for something. Silence drapes the room; it feels as if the world has come to a pause to allow you to admire the man on top of you for just a little bit longer. You don't want to let go; you don't want this to end; you want to stay in his arms forever. Finally, he breaks the silence.

"Go out with me?"

[bananami]

STFUATTDLAGG

character/s: choso kamo x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: meangirl!reader x loser!choso is a pairing that lives in my head rent free so when you all voted for choso to be the next hot man i wrote for i knew this was what would come out of it so let’s get into it whores

WARNINGS: this is college based bc u know why. 18+, nsfw, mdni, the whole shebang, kiddos avert ur eyes IT'S ALL SMUT / also just be aware i did use fem language for reader. as always, i did not proof read xxx

A/N: delusion is like drugs for simps, and i am the crackhead

Choso isn't like a nerdy loser, more like he’s just an emo boy, he’s got that alternative look going on and in a school full of preppy rich kids he stands out like a sore thumb. Of course this leads to some not so nice kids being not so nice to him, to which like he literally could not care less. He pays no mind to what anyone thinks of him beyond of course what his brothers think of him.

And as much as people aren’t nice to him, they do not fuck with him directly, lowkey scared of his reactions. Especially following a specfic incident in which someone tried to pick a fight with him. At first he was going to just let it slide but then they said something rude about Yuuji and this man laid them out. People were sent to urgent care and everything. Choso was put on suspension and almost kicked out, but their family friend is a lawyer and threatened to sue the school and anyways (if you know who you know who) so he was allowed back at school and everyone’s a little weary of him. This doesn’t stop the mean comments from coming.

And you. You’re no exception. You made fun of him every chance you got. The way he always did his hair in that weird double bun updo, or how he had his nails painted black, his various piercings and tattoos, the way he dressed so much different, was so much different, than any of the other guys you knew at school.

And you were so disgustingly attracted to him. While everyone would sneer and make fun of him and you played along, in reality you were internally berating yourself.

Choso did his best to ignore you but to be honest in the end you were just too fun to mess with. He thought it was cute how you thought you could hurt his feelings, how you really tried, and didn’t realize that he had a thing for brats and that’s just what you were. Everyone else was too afraid to say it straight to his face ever since the fight except for you.

One time he caught you staring at him and he couldn’t help himself, leaning over with a careless smirk. "If you spent less time staring at me and more time paying attention to the lecture maybe you wouldn’t be failing the class."

"Fuck you, Choso.”

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hoped he’d mistake your embarrassment for anger. He didn’t. You snapped back, as usual. "Maybe if you didn’t dress like such a freak, you’d actually have some friends.”

"Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch your boyfriends would actually stick around for longer than a few months."

The one stung, and you tried not to let it show. Thrown off your game, all you could bring yourself to reply back was: “don’t call me a bitch.”

He shrugged, as though he were bored with the conversation already. "I never said it was a bad thing, just that you keep dating dudes who can’t handle you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He doesn't answer though, and you spend way too much time thinking about what he could've meant. Was he implying that he could handle you? Was that why he constantly found ways to poke at you? Did he like when you were a brat? Did it matter if he liked it? It led your fantasies down a deep and dark rabbit hole that you spent weeks harping on.

Things get even worse after you realize that Choso might’ve been right about your grades slipping and staring at him in class and whatnot. And (for plot reasons of course) that would mean your professor paired you up with him for the final project so that you’d stand a better chance at passing the class.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside of his apartment door, debating how much you need to actually pass the course for your degree. You kept coming to the same conclusion. You definitely needed to.

"You just gonna stand at my door like a creep or can you move so i can let you inside?” He stood at the top of the staircase up to his apartment, watching you with another bored expression.

You're reaction is second nature. "I’m the creep? How long were you just standing there watching me? Maybe I’d already knocked and you didn’t answer so I was waiting. Let’s get on with it, I don’t need anyone seeing me hanging around-”

"Alright relax, princess. No one’s around to hear you act like you hate me. Come inside and I’ll grab us something to drink.” He opened the door to let you both inside, holding it open for you to enter first.

"First off, I do hate you. And second, how do I know you’re not going to poison me?”

"Don’t worry, I wouldn’t poison you. The plan was going more in the direction of choking.”

"Choked to death? Good to know.”

"You implied killing. All i said was choking.”

"Oh, gross.” You groaned. You pushed away the images that were brought to your mind. Choso's hand around your throat, fingers in your mouth, his breathy whispers telling you what else he'd have you choking on by the end of the night.

It's not too bad for the first few hours. You start out working on the project in the living room, but Choso’s neighbors are loud as all hell and you eventually ask if you guys can move into a room away from that shared wall. And (of course for plot purposes) that would be his bedroom.

"Your bedroom is exactly as I pictured it would be."

"This is the part where I make fun of you for picturing what my bedroom looks like."

"Yeah weird and creepy, just like you.”

"Your insults are getting less and less creative.”

"Yeah well….shut up.”

He’s surprised at that, usually you’d come back at him with something witty and clever and he actually enjoyed it.

It’s quiet and he’s sitting at his desk while you lay casually on his bed when he decides now’s as good a time as ever, and he might never actually get you alone again to say it.

"You ever gonna admit that you find me attractive or keep lying to the both of us?"

You wince. "I don't find you attractive. Stop flattering yourself."

"You flatter me enough with all the staring and drooling you do over me in class."

"You're obsessive," you snap at him.

"At least i can admit it."

You're caught off guard, stuck between wanting to ask what he means and not wanting to give in to the obvious baiting he's doing. When he throws the study material down on to his desk and plops down in front of you on his bed, it seems like he's resigned to not giving you that choice.

"Tell you what, I'll tell you all of the dirty and depraved things I think about on a daily basis, and you can decide after whether you'd like to share those same thoughts of yours with me or not."

"Why would I want to hear any of the thoughts in your head?"

"Because a lot of them revolve directly around you." He's leaned so close you're almost touching one another. Your silence is enough to spur him on. "I think you've never been fucked properly before."

You can't contain the look that falls on your face. "Seriously? This what you think about? My sex life is none of your business, but I'm doing just fine in that department, thank you very much."

He ignores you. "I don't think you've ever been told to shut the fuck up and take it like the good girl I know you can be." That shut you up real quick. Choso is on his knees in front of you, hands cupping around your neck, his thumbs running across your cheeks. "You're whiney little fucking attitude not do it for your boyfriends?" He teased. "They not know how to deal with you when you're being a brat, huh?"

You're head moves without conscious effort, nodding to agree with him.

"You just want some attention, don't you?"

Another nod.

"You want my attention, don't you?"

Hesitation. But you can't help yourself, his presence looming heavy over you, pushing you to admit what you'd kept in the dark for so long.

One of his hands slithers from your throat, down your chest, under the sweats you threw on in a rush to get to his apartment. You're so distracted by his fingers that you don't notice his face moving closer until his mouth is prying yours open. That's all it takes from him to have you stroking your fingers through his hair, pulling it out of the buns they typically are held in.

"Such a little brat." He's hovering over you, pushing your hips into the soft cushion of his bed with his. "Feel how hard it makes me?" He teases as he grinds his hips down, his clothed cock sliding against your center. Your eyes flutter and he grips onto your face with one hand, squeezing firmly. "You're gonna fuck me tonight. Nod if you understand."

You can't believe how quick your head moves up and down. "You're gonna take off those pretty little panties you wore hoping I'd get to see and slide up and down my dick until I tell you to stop. I don't want you cumming until I feel you've begged enough."

It takes no time at all for him to flip the two of you and prop himself up on his forearms. His pants are shimmied off and thrown to his bedroom floor alongside yours.

Your hands are desperate to line him up, anticipation building to have him deep inside of you, but his shoot out to pull them up and place them against his chest. "No, no, no. You don't get me inside you yet, not until you prove to me you deserve it." He urges you along his shaft, flat against his stomach. "That's right, be a good little slut for me and let me feel that pussy slide against my dick."

You watch him from above, his face contorting from concentration to pleasure to near desperation. You've never felt as powerful as you did riding him. Not a single one of your boyfriends ever turning you on as much as Choso was right now. He made you work for it, praising you when you did what he asked, and you chased that praise.

"Shit, look at that baby," he grabbed your hair and yanked your face down to watch yourself slide against him. "Need to feel you squeeze that pussy around me. Fuck, slide me in, slide me in-" his loud groans matched your high pitched sound of relief at having him seated inside you. "Fuck this."

He flipped the two of you back over, gripping each of your legs and forcing them up. "Hold right under your knees for me. Good girl, keep yourself open for me, let me just use you." He fell to his forearms as he plowed into you, giving you no time to get used to any sort of pace.

You tried your best to hold your legs, but you wanted so badly to touch him. One of your hands wandered back up into his lose hair.

He could barely keep his eyes open, mumbling all kinds of truths you were sure he would've kept locked inside had he not been so drunk on the feel of being inside you. "So fucking pretty," he kissed you sloppily, "such a stupid fucking brat, just needed my cock inside you. Feel like heaven, baby. Gonna let me cum inside your little cunt, right? Made me wait so fucking long to have you, I deserve it. Don't I deserve it?"

You can barely form any coherent words, setting for nodding and breathy uh huhs.

"So fucking mean to me, and look how good I'm being to you, huh?" You feel the light slap of his head against your cheek. "Say your sorry, beg me to cum inside your pussy."

You do beg, your apology comes out in between the stuttering and slurring of your words, but you beg and plead with him until he concedes. It his own orgasm that pushes you over, his groans and relentlessness that follow, pushing himself passed the point of no return. You can see the beginning of what looks like tears in his eyes, and he has to force himself to stop, his hips jerking from the overstimulation.

He kisses you ruthlessly, letting his tongue claim your mouth in a manner more harsh than it is anything else. And when he pulls away and his eyes settle back on yours they're equally as harsh.

"No more shitty little boyfriends that can't handle you. I'll handle you. You want my cock, you ask nicely. Understand?"

"Yes," you let your lips peck his, surprising him, "what if I don't wanna be nice about it?"

He smirks, "try it and find out. Now get on your knees and suck my cock like the good girl I know you can be."

[jnnul]

falling in love at first sight (x3)

a/n: so i woke up in cold sweat and i had to write this. there's like 30k i could've written about this but tbh, i needed to get this out lol. also taesan has been living in my head rent free so this is his eviction notice. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

word count: 6.3k

tags: college au!, basketballplayer!taesan x nurse!y/n, honestly it's just a fluff piece, idiots in love, dongmin is DOWN BAD and falls in love with the same girl 3 times, uhh y/n is a feisty nurse warnings: taesan is called dongmin, uhh alcohol + memory loss involved with getting shitfaced lol

HAN DONGMIN DIDN'T REALLY BELIEVE IN SUPERSTITIONS. to him, things like 'knocking on wood' or 'not opening an umbrella inside' were just old wives' tales that didn't have much substance to them.

but after dongmin had shattered his bedroom mirror this morning (he'd accidentally launched his alarm clock across the room after sleeping too late last night), nearly every single thing in his life had gone wrong.

he'd put expired milk in his cereal because kim donghyun (his roommate) hadn't switched out the milk like he'd promised to the day before. then he went to take a shower, only to be burned by scalding hot water since the landlord refused to change the heating system, even though they'd been suffering through the sticky heat of august for fifteen days already. as if all of that wasn't enough, he'd accidentally torn his favorite hoodie trying to clean up the fragments that'd fallen on the floor. and when he was trying to salvage his hoodie, he scraped his forearm against the fragments, meaning he had a nasty gash along the long side of it.

which meant he'd have to go to the hospital to take care of this stupid bloody mess instead of going to class.

that was how han dongmin found himself sitting in the waiting room of the urgent care center of the hospital, a shoddy rag wrapped around his forearm, his essentials hoodie covered in blood, expired milk, and mirror dust.

needless to say, dongmin had gotten more than a few strange looks from the other people in the waiting room in the last four minutes he'd been there.

"han dongmin!" the receptionist calls out, and dongmin launches himself out of his chair, impatient to get this over with as soon as possible.

something about hospitals just gave dongmin the heebie jeebies. the fluorescent lighting, the smell of rubbing alcohol, the tangible feeling of sickness that wafted through the air.

ugh. dongmin hated hospitals. in fact, he was so sure that he would never even step foot in a hospital after this. if he needed to wrap himself in bubble wrap to do so, then so be it because he hated hospitals and he would never come ba -

dongmin stops dead in his tracks, right next to the recovery bed that the receptionist had led him to. standing in front of him was the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen in his life.

you were smiling at something the patient in front of you was saying, leaning over to bandage the patient's scrape with a little bandaid that had cartoon ryans all over it.

fuck that.

dongmin was ready to break his leg if it meant that he got to stay in the hospital and stare at your beautiful face all day. before he could find something big and heavy to knock his leg into, however, you make your way over to dongmin, clipboard and first aid kit in hand.

"hello," you say with a soft smile. "my name is y/n l/n and i'll be taking care of you today. is there anything i can help you with?"

"will you go out with me?" the words escape dongmin's mouth before he can even process what he's saying and you immediately lean backwards, a disproving wrinkle between your eyebrows.

"excuse me?" you say, and it's clear that dongmin's not gonna be in your good graces if he hits on you. he really hoped you were like this with everyone and not that you just found him super unattractive or anything (donghyun swore up and down that dongmin was not ugly - especially now that he'd dyed his hair! but donghyun also never had to chase after a girl in his life so...). or worse, if you already had a boyfriend.

but before he can ruminate about your affronted stance too deeply, dongmin rushes to fix his mistake. "i mean, hospitals really freak me out. the ethanol smell and the lighting and everything kinda gets in my head, you know what i mean? do you think you could just slap some gauze on outside?"

the tension in your shoulders immediately relaxes and you take a step forward once more, setting the first aid kit down next to dongmin.

"oh yeah, that makes sense," you say, sounding relieved. "unfortunately, i can only provide care while inside the hospital to make sure that the instruments and gauze are sterile to prevent any contamination. i promise i'll be as quick as possible so i can get you out of here!" you explain, a slight pout tugging your lips down in the most adorable way as you seem genuinely sorry for dongmin.

it was official: han dongmin was in love.

"no, don't worry. take your time. i mean, the cut is pretty bad and i don't wanna leave any mirror guts in it," dongmin says. as quick as possible, my ass, he thinks to himself. i gotta find a way to make this last for as long as i can.

"of course!" you assure, before looking down at the clipboard. "so i assume you cut yourself on a broken mirror? does it hurt when you apply pressure?"

what was the answer that would keep you here longer?

"yes?"

"are you asking me or telling me?"

"telling?"

"very convincing. i'm gonna need to apply pressure and confirm for myself then, if that's alright with you?" you look at him in a way that seems to be somewhat apprehensive and dongmin has never wanted to reverse time more than in this very instant.

until he doesn't because your hands are on his forearm, examining the wound gently and applying pressure around the open gash.

"does it hurt when i do this?" you ask, eyes trained on the way that his forearm muscles ripple and move as you apply pressure in different places.

dongmin's not the most buff guy on the planet, and you checking out his muscles was definitely not for your own pleasure, but at least all of his time on the court and in the gym has paid off in some way.

"uh...no. not unless you're super close to the cut," dongmin says and you nod with a gentle smile. it's in that moment that dongmin decides that he would kill anyone and anything just to see you smile like that again,

"that's good to hear. well, i guess that all we need to do is 'slap some gauze on' after disinfecting the wound and making sure we don't have any 'mirror guts' in it," you say, a hint of cheekiness in your tone. dongmin doesn't know what it is about it but it makes him blush, regardless.

"yeah. that sounds good," he says dreamily, trying hard to compose himself once more when you flash him a questioning look.

you work carefully on his arm, making sure to give a tiny little stress ball to dongmin to use when you descend upon his wound with some antibacterial medicine and rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball.

"so, uh, you look pretty young for a doctor...?" dongmin says, trying very hard to focus his attention on you instead of the stinging pain that came with every touch of the cotton ball on his wound. the more he looked at you, the more he began to wonder if he'd seen you somewhere before.

dongmin wasn't the superstitious type, and didn't exactly believe in 'love at first sight', but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't place you anywhere in his memory.

"that might be because 'm not a doctor," you say somewhat distractedly. "i'm a nursing student."

"oh. oh! you're a nursing student?" he asks. student. that means that you were either his age or just a few years older than him. and it also probably meant that you were a student at a university near by - maybe his?

"yep. a second year. although, don't worry, i've completed all of my first aid clinicals last year itself," you explain, leaning back in satisfaction when you finish cleaning up the wound.

"my school has a pretty famous nursing program, you know. maybe you've heard of yonsei's nursing program?" dongmin asks, eyes shining with hope.

it's only then that you look up at dongmin with an excited look in your eyes, turning to throw away the used cotton balls.

"i go to yonsei as well! i'm just starting my second year. it's a little strange because the nursing program runs through the summer, which is why i'm working clinicals right now. i'm almost done though, so i'll be switching into a field i'm more interested in," you say and dongmin swears he hears wedding bells in his mind. beautiful, kind, intelligent, and the same age as him? it was like god was basically handing his soulmate to him on a platter. maybe love at first sight was real after all.

"me too! well, i'm not a nursing major, but i'm a second year electrical engineering major," dongmin says, watching you turn back towards him with a clipboard.

"mhm, well, i've gotta tell you to be careful for the next week or so. no heavy lifting, sports, and definitely no cutting things. we don't want to make the wound worse, now do we?" you say chidingly, scribbling instructions on the clipboard of how to clean the wound with rubbing alcohol and how many pills of ibuprofen to take per day.

"of course," dongmin says half-heartedly. as much as dongmin hated the feeling of pain, the was the only way that he could think of to get to see you again was to somehow hurt himself again.

"how about you come back in a week to just make sure that it closed up well? make sure it didn't get infected or anything?" you ask, handing him the sheet of paper.

god was real.

dongmin swore he was going to go to church and donate at least 10,000 won for the blessing after blessing he was receiving today.

"oh sure," he says, a mischievous thought popping into his head. "but is it ok if i find you on campus? i have a lot of labs over the next week and i can't miss them if i can't even participate in them, so i can at least get the information. i won't really have time to stop by the hospital," dongmin says carefully, watching your expression to ensure that it wasn't changing with every word that escaped your lips.

technically, it wasn't a lie. dongmin did have a lot of labs next week but that's definitely not why he wouldn't have time to stop by the hospital.

"i don't see why not. i don't need any sterile instruments to just check quickly, so that shouldn't be an issue," you say slowly, nodding to yourself as you look around the little station to make sure you wouldn't need any of the equipment.

"perfect," dongmin says, shuffling out of the bed that he was sitting in to leave before turning around nonchalantly. "do you think i could get your number? so i know where to find you?"

you look up at him, and dongmin tries his best to seem sincere and genuine rather than as calculating as he felt, trying every tactic possible to see you again.

"yeah. yeah, here let me type it into your phone."

he hands his phone over to you, and it takes every single fiber of his being to keep himself from looking excited about any part of this transaction. you were already suspicious enough of him; you definitely didn't need more reasons to add to the list.

you're frowning slightly when you hand the phone back to him so dongmin pockets it without a second thought, to prove that he wasn't trying to be weird.

"thank you so much again." dongmin waves as he leaves, flashing the award-winning smile that he usually reserves for aunties and restaurant owners for free sides. oh, and for his fans.

you don't blush and trip over yourself when he does like his fans do - although you offer him a soft smile in return.

although, dongmin muses, i guess it would be weird if a nurse who met me for the first time would be anything like a college basketball star's fan though. maybe.

he shakes his head, opening the door to the hospital, looking down at his arm wrapped in gauze. yeah. there was no way that dongmin was taking a break from basketball. season started in less than three weeks and as yonsei's point guard, he had no choice but to just power through the injury.

it might work out in his favor after all. at least it would give him more chances to see you.

+++

turns out, the universe gives him a chance less than two days after he sees you for the first time. and in any other case, dongmin would be incredibly excited to see you again. he'd probably be ready, waiting with freshly showered hair and clean clothes and nice smelling cologne.

instead, when he sees you again, he's wearing raggedy shorts, a stained shirt, and holding a basketball that he definitely should not be holding.

dongmin knew he was fucked the moment you walked in through the double doors that opened up to the indoor basketball court of yonsei, light spilling in from the outdoors, along with the chatter and excitement of students returning to university.

you walk in wearing white, along with six other people dressed similarly, the basketball team's physician (dr. moon taeil) at the head of them all. dongmin hopes that you don't recognize him - or at least don't see him actively playing but of course, you manage to turn your head to see dongmin throw the ball out of his hands in a random direction in panic.

the ball, then of course, managed to fall neatly through the hoop, as though dongmin had intentionally thrown it there, causing him to want to die on the spot.

so he couldn't do that during a game with korea university, but now that he was doing everything in his power to keep you from seeing him play basketball, now he manages to throw it in the one place it shouldn't go.

your eyes narrow when dongmin turns to face you, your gaze falling to his (poorly) wrapped forearm. he offers you a trembling grin, which slowly turns into a frown when you look away, shaking your head as you start talking to the girl next to you.

at least you wouldn't say anything to coach about how he wasn't supposed to be playing right now, dongmin thinks to himself. even if i've effectively ruined my chances of her ever believing me about anything ever again. uh. not that i've had more than one conversation with her. or might have more in the future.

dongmin shivers, jogging over to where the basketball had fallen to pick it up and return to his place at the three-point line and continue shooting practice.

he returns to where he's supposed to be practicing, so that his back is facing the group of people who'd entered - namely, you.

"i forgot coach mentioned that we've got new on-site medical staff," dongmin mutters to himself, dribbling the ball before lining up his shot. "i didn't know that she'd be a part of that though - she can't be the sporty type if she didn't recognize me from the hospital."

dongmin is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even feel the dark presence looming over him until the ball is released from his hand.

"HAN DONGMIN!" someone yells, right next to his ear, and dongmin scrambles to attention, wincing when the basketball bounces off the rim and into the cart of basketballs he was practicing with with a resounding clang!

he turns slowly, eyes closed, as if that would make you go away.

"i cannot believe that i bandaged you up so carefully just for you to start playing again! how could you be so careless? do you not want to be able to play during the season? you're yonsei's ace and you're being this irresponsible!" you're heaving by the end of your rant and dongmin blinks, trying to come up with a response.

you definitely didn't know him well enough to yell at him like this - much less in front of all of his teammates - but for some reason, that's not what stuck out to dongmin.

(much to his chagrin, you being angry was hot. like really hot. especially since he'd thought you'd be the soft and cozy type, not the impulsive and quick to anger type. he really liked this side of you.)

"you know who i am?" he asks slowly.

"OF COURSE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! OH, YOU ARE GETTING ON MY NERVES. YOU ASS, I DIDN'T BANDAGE YOU UP THAT NEATLY FOR YOU TO BE WALKING AROUND SHOOTING THREES!"

you're yelling at him, and for some reason, dongmin has never wanted to kiss someone more in his life. he'd never though he'd be this attracted to someone that he's just met yelling at him, much less in front of his entire team and her own entire team. but for some reason, as dongmin looks at you waving your hands all crazy and annoyed, all he can think about it how much he likes you.

it wasn't just physical. of course, he thought you were beautiful - possibly the most beautiful person he'd ever seen in his life and he would die on that hill - but it was more than that. it was as though he'd genuinely fallen in love at first sight.

you could tell him that you were a serial killer and at this point, dongmin would just admire your bloodlust.

"uh. dongmin?" coach jung says behind him, hands crossed over his chest. "do you guys need a moment to step out and come back?"

even coach jung seems a little bit intimidated by your livid state of being and dongmin has to cough to cover up his life.

"no coach. we're done here," you say, turning dramatically on your heel to turn back to your friends. but dongmin moves quicker than even his own mind can process what happens.

before he can think, his hand is wrapped around your wrist, spinning you closer to him, almost as if the two of you were ballroom dancing.

you look up at him, shocked, but dongmin is slow to let go of your wrist, not wanting to lose contact with you.

"no, we need just a moment," dongmin says, his eyes never leaving your own. it's clear that you neither expected this nor were used to this kind of behavior from anyone and before the fight that's building inside of you bubbles out, dongmin tilts his head toward the door that leads to a hallway extending to the equipment room, practically begging you with his eyes.

you aqcuiesce - or at least, dongmin thinks you do - from the way that your shoulder melt just the slightest and you let him pull you into the hallway.

"what?" you snap the second the door shuts behind the two of you. "okay, maybe i didn't let on that i knew you from our encounter, but that's irrelevant. i didn't need to tell you that i knew you. and besides, as your healthcare provider, it would have been extremely irresponsible on my end for me to let slip that i'm a fan - or that i know you personally at all."

dongmin can't help but let a small smile slip. "personally? we know each other personally?"

you fluster in that moment, looking anywhere but at dongmin, bringing a large smile to his face. he'd never thought that the feisty, quick to temper and quick to lose it, loud type was his type but he was starting to enjoy it very much.

"alright, well i know you personally enough, alright?" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "we've met before."

now it's dongmin's turn to look flustered, as he wracks his brain, trying to come up when or where the two of you have met before. he wasn't the one-night-stand type, so that couldn't be it. he also didn't have an insane amount of friends outside of the basketball team and donghyun's friends, so that wasn't it either.

"i'm really sorry - and i'm definitely trying to hit on you, just not right now - but i don't remember. i'd definitely remember someone like you," dongmin says, and he's well aware of the fact that his tone does not sound any level of displeased, and rather dreamy.

you roll your eyes, looking down at the ground. "we kissed once. twice actually. but um. that's not my point."

you clear your throat, as if you hadn't just dropped the biggest bomb of the century on dongmin, shaking your head. "why the hell are you playing basketball on an injured arm anyway? i specifically said no sports!"

dongmin raises an eyebrow. "you say you're my fan and yet you're still asking me why i'm playing when we have our first game in a week. and hold on. i'm not letting go of that first part; we've kissed? twice?"

you shrug, but it's clear that you don't think of it as nonchalantly as you're trying to make it sound when you speak. "yeah. in freshman year. once in spring semester and then once in fall. it's not a big deal. to you at least. clearly you kiss a lot of girls, if you don't even remember us kissing at all."

"now that's not fair," dongmin pouts, but he's well aware that he's not conveying this well at all. suddenly, a flash of a girl wearing a red dress, looking up at him with big eyes and a pouty lips crosses his mind.

good god. were - were you dongmin's mystery girl?

+++

"what do you mean dongmin finally found his mystery girl? the one he's been crushing on for a full year?" myung jaehyun says incredulously, instantly pulling out his phone to look you up on instagram.

dongmin sits in the middle of his friends, all sitting at the same table as they were supposed to be eating lunch, his head resting in his hands.

"you mean the one that he swore was the love of his life? god, he wouldn't shut up about that for at least six months," lee sanghyuk says, shoveling noodles in his mouth.

"try a year," donghyun groans, rubbing his forehead in pain. "do you remember the state of this kid when he woke up the next day?"

"good god, it was horrible. all he could say for a full week was that he wanted to jump out of the window because he'd lost her number and that he was never going to find true love because he couldn't remember her name, number, or even what she looked like," sanghyuck adds.

park sungho, the newest addition to their friend group, blinks, looking at dongmin, who's head is still in his hands.

"you were down bad, man," he muses and jaehyun on the side of him snorts.

"down bad doesn't even begin to describe it. it got to the point where we had 'girl in the red dress' and 'true love' jars because he would talk about her." jaehyun sighed, looking at dongmin pointedly. "he'd put enough money that we'd bought alc for the rest of freshman year. just in spring semester."

"that's what you get for trying to prove that you could drink a 4lokos without getting shitfaced," donghyun says, nose crinkling as he recalled the hours he had to spend making sure that dongmin wasn't going to die by choking on his own spit. "and he went and did it twice. it took us months to get to the point where we could invite this guy anywhere so as long as he swore not to bring her up again."

dongmin looks up, almost excitedly. "do you think that if i drink another 4lokos, we'll kiss at another party?"

sungho leans over, smacking him upside the head. "you're so fucking dumb. and i can tell just by these stories. you're not allowed to drink until season's over, idiot. and she's on your medical team. why don't you start by making a good impression while you're not so drunk you're going to start insisting that spongebob is hydrophobic."

("you were there when that happened?")

("you idiot, you thought i was spongebob. you kept throwing my drinks away because you thought i was going to disappear into them if i drank them. which makes no sense because that's not what hydrophobic means.")

("oh. sorry man.")

"yeah. just go to the med clinic tomorrow, apologize to her, and bring her flowers or something. women eat that shit up!" sanghyuk says with a mouthful of noodles and jaehyun nods, pointing his chopsticks at him excitedly.

"they do! my girlfriend always feels better with food and flowers," he says, cheeks stuffed to the brim with carbonara.

dongmin's mind races with all of the implications of doing so, but every single one of his thoughts fade away in light of the fact that he could redeem himself in your eyes. he slams his hands down on the table, swinging his legs over the bench to run to the nearest flower shop.

"i'll be back before practice!" dongmin calls out over his shoulder, waving a quick goodbye as he sprints towards the florists.

he makes it to the edge of the courtyard before he hears the yelling of his friends behind him, turning to see them waving at him (and waving some very rude fingers at him).

"YOU FORGOT YOUR WALLET, YOU IDIOT!"

+++

dongmin's friends were useless. absolutely useless.

he'd went and bought the prettiest bouquet of flowers he could find, a nice meal from his favorite bento place, and had even bought three different types of ice cream bars because he didn't know which one you'd like.

he'd walked right into the medical clinic office, his apology gifts all in hand, ready to apologize to you, redeem his honor, and become your own true love.

the last part probably wasn't going to work anyway, but the first two should've been foolproof.

instead, he manages to prove that he was a fool.

as it turns out, he wasn't the only person who thought that the flowers were beautiful; dongmin had managed to bring the queen bee as a secret surprise in the bouquet, which meant that the rest of her hive was NOT very happy that he'd committed royal kidnap, as far as the bees were concerned.

"HAN DONGMIN WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" you yell from underneath your desk, where you were hiding from the sudden swarm of bees that had followed dongmin in.

he doesn't respond, too busy opening the window to drop the flowers out of, hesitating when he sees the number of people that were lounging around the courtyard that the medical office looked out of.

dongmin lines up the bouquet, sending a prayer to god (any one that would listen) as he shoots the best three he's ever shot in his life, so that the bouquet (and all of the bees that accompanied it) landed far away enough from people to prevent them from getting hurt.

of course, a few brave souls had stayed behind to exact revenge for their queen on dongmin, resulting in upwards of five bee stings, before dongmin finally evaded the great medical bee disaster once and for all.

he turns sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"i don't suppose i could find medical care in this clinic, could i?" he says, and he's well aware of the fact that he's flushed bright red, as he always seems to when he's made a fool of himself.

thankfully, there are only four or five people, including you, in the office to witness this disaster - although, dongmin can see the girl you were talking to yesterday surpressing a smile.

"yeah, of course you could. but we're all headed on break so unfortunately, y/n is the only person who's gonna be able to give you medical care. you know, since you've already brought lunch for her," your friend says with a knowing grin. she ushers the rest of the medical staff out of the office, closing the door behind her with a telltale click.

"you can come out from under the desk now," dongmin says, and despite the situation, he finds it adorable that in the case of a bee swarm, your first instinct had been to hide underneath a desk.

"i was going to," you grumble, slinking out from your hiding spot and dusting off invisible dust from your pants. "what were you thinking, bringing flowers with bees in them?"

dongmin blushes, tilting his head as he tries to look anywhere but where you were. "i wanted to apologize to you. in my defense, i kinda always thought bees were made up. i mean, they're so fat! there's no way they should be able to fly. that directly violates like every law of aviation in the world."

your eyebrow quirks upward as you look at the ice cream and lunch he had set down on your desk in his bee-induced panic. "i can't believe you're quoting the bee movie at me right now."

"i can't believe you know i'm quoting the bee movie. i should've known the love of my life was an internet connoiseur," dongmin says with a sigh, examining the bee stings on his arm. how did these bees even manage to crawl underneath the sleeves of his shirt?

"excuse me?" you bark, hands on your hips. "did you just call me the love of your life? when you couldn't even remember who i was like yesterday?"

"okay, wait. you don't understand. first, i need you to help me out by getting some ointment on these stings because they're starting to burn and i don't know if that's so normal. and then, i'll explain everything, trust me."

you reluctantly reach back into a cabinet that reads 'insect stings' and grab the kit for bee stings, pulling a cream out of it, beckoning dongmin to come closer so that you could treat it.

"do you remember what happened that night? or those two nights, i guess?" you ask softly, eyes trained on dongmin's arm so that you don't have to look him in the eyes and he nods.

"i remember. well, as much as i can, anyway. i was blackout drunk both times. and from what i remember, you weren't exactly sober either, so i don't know how you remember me but trust me, whatever you think about me is not true. i was - i was so down bad that my friends had to make a 'no y/n' jar!" dongmin yelps the last part when your hand on his arm presses a little too hard.

"i'm sorry! sorry!" you gasp, immediately leaning over to blow cool air on the place you'd accidentally put too much pressure. "what do you mean by a no 'no y/n' jar though? i thought you didn't remember my name."

"i didn't! and it killed me! i don't remember exactly what happened those nights but i remember how much i liked you. i remember thinking that i'd never meet a girl like you in my life. it still frustrates me that i lost your number - although, i do remember the part where you smacked me over the head the second time that we met. i think i suffered permanent brain damage from that.

"but i remember glimpses of that night. like that red dress you were wearing and how much you were rambling about stars. you were giving me an in-depth explanation about how black holes work and something about how rockets look like they're stuck in time in black holes. not the point. but the point is that i genuinely fell in love with you that first night we met.

"i've got this horrid habit though, when i get drunk - i become either super scared of water, or super infatuated with it. it's honestly a coin-toss. so imagine my feeling the next morning when i wake up with a dissolved piece of paper in my pocket that's supposed to have your number on it, semi-wet clothes, and a raging migraine.

"i thought i met the love of my life and i couldn't even remember her name, number, or even her face. it drove me and my friends absolutely nuts. me because i didn't know how to find you when i couldn't remember anything. my friends went insane because i would talk about you so much that they bought me those swear jars for every time i mentioned you.

"of course, i didn't know your name so you were just 'the love of my life' or 'girl in the red dress' but i think i dumped at least 300,000 won in those jars by the end of the semester. and then as if the universe was out to make my life living hell, we met again and i was shitfaced again. i swore to never touch a 4lokos after that, if that's any level of redemption.

"anyway. i brought you flowers and all this stuff because i wanted to tell you that - that i've liked you for a lot longer than even i've known! i remember most of the conversations that we had, even if i couldn't remember exactly who you were. when i saw you at the hospital, i genuinely thought i was falling in love at first sight. but i guess, that's kinda not true. cause that would be my third time falling in love at first sight."

"why, though? three times? i mean, i don't think i'm ugly or anything but three times? yeah, i mean i guess i kinda also had a thing for you after those two nights. god. i wish i remembered what we talked about for us to get this attached," you say, mumbling the last part. dongmin turns to you somewhat confused, watching you as you open up the bento box he'd bought you.

"you don't remember what we talked about? besides the black holes and stuff?"

"nope. but i've also got a horrible reputation amongst my friends for how much i talked about you. the worst part is that i remembered you but not what we talked about. it was so stupid because no one believed me that han dongmin, yonsei's point guard was the guy i'd had my heart for the past year." you instinctively smile the moment you take a bite of the food and even though it's so small, dongmin's heart swells with pride.

"why didn't you ever come up to me? i mean, this whole year of pining could've been avoided if you'd talked to me," dongmin says, accepting the ice cream bar you handed him. how the hell did you know that was his favorite ice cream?

"i gave you my number once, and i kissed you twice. i figured you were just ghosting me at some point if you weren't going to reach out to me. and besides, nursing really picked up right after basketball season so...i kinda just ended up torturing my friends for the past year," you say, somewhat sheepishly, but dongmin is barely even listening anymore.

after all, how many people can say that they fell in love at first sight with the same person three times?

"well. we're here now. will you go out with me? i promise i won't even touch a 4lokos!"

"deal. as long as you promise to tell me everything we talked about that night. i still can't tell why i fell so hard for you that i chased you down a basketball court in front of your whole team."

"my stellar looks? my killer smile? my stupidly handsome personality? my superb basketball skills?"

"try your stupid attraction to water molecules."

"i have a feeling i shouldn't have told you about that."

+++

freshman year, spring semester.

"really? you've never fallen in love before?" you ask incredulously. you and dongmin are sitting on the balcony of some random friend who decided to throw a party, feet dangling over the edges in between the bars.

"nah. i don't think so," dongmin says, leaning backwards on his palms. "i don't think i've ever met someone who's ever made me feel like my entire heart is their's to do whatever they want to do with."

"then let's play this game," you say, clumsily pulling out your phone. "that one thing on new york times, where you fall in love with someone within 36 questions."

"why? you want me to fall in love with you?" dongmin says, leaning over with a cheeky smile. you push him playfully, focused on trying to pull up the questions list.

"you'd do that whether i told you to or not," you fire back. "and besides, i think i'm a fantastic kisser. so you're probably already in love."

"you're right," dongmin says with a sigh. "i think i am."

freshman year, fall semester.

"question 36. i can't believe we never finished all the questions last time," you say. this time the two of you are sitting so close, dongmin can still taste the watermelon chapstick you're wearing. at this point though, dongmin might as well be the one wearing it.

"to be fair, last time i think we were otherwise preoccupied."

"get your mind out of the gutter!"

"i was talking about how many times you kept getting distracted by the dog."

"anyway. we're on question 36; are you in love with me yet?"

"i should be asking you that. i've been in love."

"han dongmin! i thought you weren't the superstitious type?"

"i'll be whatever you want me to be."

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Butcher!Simon x gn!reader Part 9 We're coming to the end of the date and is that... *le gasp* hand holding? How lewd. You're such a harlot, letting him hold your hand.

I'm not dead guys, just pretty busy with life, but this guy lives rent free in my head (he'd prefer to live in yours). Part 8 | COD Masterlist | Part 10

Abort. Fucking abort mission. He knows it’s going to be a no before you even open your mouth. How could he be so stupid. Your expression is troubled and he wants to kick himself for asking. Too quick, too much. Did he seriously forget how careful and easily startled you are just because you joked about Johnny? (yeah he did, too busy imagining your wedding)

“I”, you slowly start your hands nervously wringing “don’t want to intrude on your guy’s night. And I don’t know them and I bet they’re really nice but they’re three men I don’t know and it’s getting late and hell, I barely know you and…”

You’ve started rambling and Simon hates how he made you nervous like that again, so before you can get too much into your head about it he takes a small step forward his hands reaching out and gently covering your fiddling ones. God, they fit perfectly into his. He never wants to stop holding your hands again.

That effectively shuts you up and your eyes go to his again, looking up from the ground (such a good little lovie).

“It’s fine, sweetheart. I get it.”, he grumbles out, trying to keep his voice soft, lest he scares you off like a startled deer. He doesn’t want to have to chase you (maybe he does, but only if you’d like him to).  His big hands dwarf yours, gently squeezing.

You don’t pull back and that alone makes his heart do a victory jump in his chest. If you don’t mind him touching you like this maybe he can get bolder the next times, make his interest more obvious (okay, he needs to calm the fuck down, you haven’t even agreed to going to the concert with him yet).

“No need to explain. I shouldn’t have asked.”, he continues and you shake your head freeing your hands from each other so you can grab onto his too (oh fuck, you’re grabbing onto him, holy shit, holy shit).

“No! It’s very sweet of you. It’s just… too much?”, you say and it sounds more like a question than a statement. At least you’ve grown so comfortable around him that you continue to explain: “Meeting you today was already a lot for me.”

He nods in understanding, quietly accepting your words. He gulps heavily hoping you can’t hear his nerves when he asks: “Was it too much? Meeting me today?”

You grip on his hands tightens and you take a small instinctive step closer, stealing all the oxygen from his lungs. “No! It’s not too much. You’ve been great, really. I just…”

You look troubled at having to explain further and his thumbs begins to soothingly brush over your hands. “Okay.”, he says simply, stopping you from trying to convince him.

The way you tilt your head up at him in surprise makes his heart squeeze and he swears he needs to take his cuteness aggression out on one of his pillows when he gets home because the urge to squeeze you tightly is nearly overwhelming. It fills his entire body up until he feels like he’ll vibrate right out of his skin and break into pieces at your feet.

“Just like that?”, you ask, evidently surprised at his acceptance and he nods, subtly starting to walk again but keeping one of your hands in his. You don’t seem to notice and if you do, you don’t complain. Shit, his hand is getting sweaty from how nervous holding your hand makes him.

“Yeah. No need to explain. That’s how it is.”, he says with a harsher tone than intended. Shit, he meant to sound conclusive not harsh what if you think he’s mad and…

“Thank you.” The squeeze of his hand is thankful and gentle making him stuff his other hand into his pocket again because he might start to shake from your proximity at any moment now.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart.”, he murmurs and wonders how people usually react to you if you feel the need to thank him for just accepting what you said. The thought of anyone not treating you right makes quiet rage settle around his chest and he vows to never mistreat you (yeah, not like he fantasizes about keeping you locked up so he can have you all to himself or anything, no hypocrisy there, Simon).

That’s the moment Wraith comes bounding back again and looks at your joined hands. Suddenly the big dog stops dead in his tracks and huffs a low bark. Your laughter rings out and Simon doesn’t know whether to cry tears of joy at the beautiful sound of your laughter or take cover because your mutt does not look happy at him touching you.

He fights the urge to jerk his hands back like he’s a naughty child getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Damn him, if he lets a goddamn dog intimidate him into letting go of your perfect little hand. Wraith cocks his head at you two and a low rumble starts in his throat, not quite a growl. Something Simon can’t decipher.

You can though and when you try to go to your dog, Simon tightens his hold on your hand so you don’t slip from his grip completely. The way your head whips around nearly makes him let go of you after all but he decides to swallow his nerves and gently strokes the back of your hand with his thumb again. Your eyes are wide, not scared just surprised and you seem to search his gaze for something.

He’s not sure what but he doesn’t break the sudden and intense eye contact, trying to hide his pout at you taking your attention off of him to give it to your dog.

“Only need one hand to pet him.”, he grouses and against anything he expected you giggle again and call Wraith closer. The ugly beast trots closer still grumbling and you pet his head.

 “There you go, Wraith. Is my poor puppy jealous?”, you ask your dog and he gives a huff in response. Simon has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t answer with a ‘yeah I am’.

He truly is trying to hide the side eye he gives Wraith when you coo at the mutt and gently scratch his chin, but he can’t help it. Wraith’s tongue lolls out and Simon swears the pleased grumble is aimed at him. Damnit, maybe he should get one of those puppy ear headbands. Maybe you would pet him too if he did.

[lovelywyenn]

“Man Junk”

★college student! Kyojuro Rengoku x college student fem!Reader★ Synopsis★There was something too sexy about your roommate Kyojuro. You couldn't be blamed for wanting to grind on his meaty thighs.★ Includes★Teasing, Choking, Kissing, squirting, humping, thigh humping, roommate fucking★ ★W.C★3.2k

You were happy as hell to finally be on your own. No longer held down by your parents, free to grow into your own person. To explore the world as a young adult. 

Having gotten into a good college far away from home, you were bonafide by yourself now. Unfortunately that meant financially as well. Your parents gave you a choice. You could either go to college locally and they would help you pay for it as long as you lived at home. Or you could go, and cut off contact. And never see another penny from them again. 

It was a hard choice, but one you needed to make. You couldn’t be under their control anymore. 

So you left, packed all your things and got on a plane across the country. And here you were, at your new university. 

The first few weeks here were….expensive. A little too expensive for the small convenience store job you had. So soon, on campus living turned into an impossible wish. And late nights studying ended up being paired with searching for apartments nearby with tenants looking for roommates. 

It took a while, but eventually you found someone who was offering an affordable amount of rent and who seemed decent. 

A girl named Kyojuro Rengoku. It was a pretty name and the girl sounded nice enough on her profile. So after  a bit of paperwork and packing, you were on the way to your new home and to see your new roommate.

It was early morning when you arrived at the apartment complex. It was just as nice as all of the photos you had seen. Nice brown brick surrounded each complex and the area was nice and gated. You even spotted a pool on the premises. All this for only $500 a month on your part was definitely worth it.

You locate apartment building 3 and use the key you were mailed a few days earlier to head inside. The only bad part about this place was the fact your apartment was on the second floor. You decide to take this one bag at a time. Lugging your first suitcase up the stairs with you. You knock on the door, breathing heavily. You really need to get your muscles up. 

The door opens and you let out a sigh, “Hey girly!, mind helping me with my bags, i packed a shit ton and they’re heavy as-”

“Girly?” a voice says. And it was the exact opposite of what you were expecting. 

You peer up from where you were looking, craning your neck in an attempt to see the entirety of the person standing in front of you. 

Turns out Kyojuro was not a sweet girl. But a big ass man. A hot one at that. And in that moment you wished you weren’t in the baggiest and bleach stained sweater you owned, a raggedy scarf on your head.

This guy had to be a giant, he towered over you. It would have been menacing if his demeanor wasn’t so kind. 

“Kyojuro?” you question dumbly. Who the hell else would be in Kyojuro’s house. 

A deep laugh rumbles from the man, “Yeah, I'm guessing you’re Y/n” he says and you nod. 

“Gotta say, I thought you were a dude little lady” he says, and you gasp in slight offense. You had thought you came off as very feminine. 

“Well I thought you were a girl!” you say right back. 

Kyojuro’s hands reach out for your bag, easily lifting the suitcase as if it weighed nothing. Your eyes lingered alone in his arms. How in the world was it possible for a man to be so strong.

“Thank you” you find yourself saying as he leads you back to where your room was. Your eyes trail along the apartment, taking in your surroundings. Much like the apartment complex, the pictures of your new home were accurate. The kitchen was spacious, with nice brown cabinets. And the living room was cute and cozy, a flat screen mounted on the wall.

As you walk, Kyojuro tells you where everything is. The linen closet is to your left, the bathroom is further down on your right. Finally he passes his room and then makes it to yours. The room already has a bed. The room was pretty plain and it would take some decorating. But your new room was nice, and spacious. You could work with it. 

“Got any more bags Y/n?” Kyojuro asks and you nod, “Yeah, but I can get them-”

But Kyojuro’s already gone downstairs, pulling up boxes and bags you had. You could already tell that living with Kyojuro was going to be interesting. But it would be nice to finally have some form of independence. Plus, Kyojuro seemed like a really nice boy. 

A nice one with strong hands, and thighs that should be illegal.

—--------------------------

Life is a bit easier now. You were actually able to save money and weren’t scavenging for leftover money every month. Plus living with Kyojuro was so easy. He wasn’t a slob, he kept after himself. Washing dishes, cooking meals when it was his turn. He was a sweetheart too, helping you with homework and things like that. 

He was a year older than you, a sophomore at the same university you went to. Often driving you to class and things like that. 

It was stupid, the way you were slowly growing a bit too attached to your roommate. But how could you be blamed? He was too fine. It should have been illegal to look as good as him. You didn’t know you had a thing for bigger guys until you met him. But you had never met a guy built like him in all of your lifetime. 

He had a good foot on you, and never failed to make your neck ache from the way you had to crane it from looking up at him. His hair was long, dyed to mimic the colors of fire. Often, when he was home he let it fall completely down, the wispy hairs closer to the front of his scalp flowing over his face.

But your favorite part was how strong he was. His shoulders were so wide, sloping down into muscular arms and veiny hands. His thighs were so thick they almost beat yours. The only difference being that yours were soft and smooth. While his were heavy and strong. 

How could any girl not fall for him? He was strong, smart, and thoughtful. Triple threat. 

Too bad for you though. Your first crush with freedom seemed to be all but interested in you. It was admirable, how studious he was. But…you wanted his attention to be off his books and on you for once. 

You might have been delusional, some might even call you crazy. But you had a pretty good plan. What man could resist a pretty girl like you walking around in nothing but their panties.

There were a lot of things that could go wrong with what your plan was. Kyojuro could genuinely not be into you and you’d end up making a fool of yourself. Kyojuro could kick you out for being so indecent. 

But whenever you looked at Kyojuro, your care about all the consequences faded away. The possibility of pleasure clouding over your mind. 

So gradually, you walked around in less and less clothing. You even went a little over budget for the month and bought yourself some lacier panties. 

And the games began. 

Kyojuro noticed. How could he not. 

He had a very similar fascination with you as you had with him. When he first saw you, bare faced and beautiful it took everything in him to keep his cool. He had never seen someone as beautiful as you. 

You were short…ridiculously so. It hurt his neck to have to look down at you. But the view was worth it. So worth it. 

Beautiful you were, big eyes that always looked up at him with what he hoped was admiration. You were so gorgeous he felt himself losing his cool around you all the time. Fighting for his eyes to stay on your eyes instead of trailing all over you. He was a gentleman after all. 

Focusing on school and keeping his gaze off of you was the only way to not be distracted by you, constantly in his vicinity.

But that grew impossible, when you started walking around without pants on. At first, Kyojuro thought you were just wearing shorter shorts. After all, he had a few female friends who loved the short shorts and oversized shirt combination. 

Though he was proven wrong when you were carrying some papers back to your room and dropped a few. He meant to stand and help you pick them up but got his breath taken away from the sight of you bending over to pick your papers up. 

You were definitely pantsless. And the underwear you were wearing barely deserved the title of undergarments. 

It was pink, a color he learned was your favorite, with lace along the edges of it. The fabric was netted, see through, allowing a super clear view of…everything. Fuck you had a pretty pussy. He could see you had shaved, pretty lips on display. From this angle he could almost see your clit. And honestly, just the glance had him hardening in his pants. Now he was wishing he had chosen something that would have made his boner less obvious. 

As you stand up you peer back at Kyojuro. And you see his hands shoot to his cock in an effort to conceal his hard on. 

The man swears he sees a small smirk on your face as you strut away.

You have your torturous fun for weeks, always bending ignorant of Kyojuro in a new set of panties that let him get a gorgeous view of your pussy. 

But one day, you take it even farther than any other day. Kyojuro is just watching TV. It’s a bit late at night, and he had just come home from a late night class. All he really wanted was to unwind as today had been a bit stressful. 

As usual, as soon as he was comfortable, starting to relax. You strut in the room. For some reason, your tight pink shorts and even tighter little tank pop is worse than the see through panties. It’s as if everything is on display, yet not enough. 

You don’t just disappear into your room after showing off to him though. Instead you move to sit next to him. The look on your face was ridiculously sweet. As if the sight of you right now wasn’t giving him a boner that was a bit too hard to stop.

Surprisingly, you don’t make a sound, choosing to sit quietly next to him. Watching what he was watching without disturbing him. 

It's when the show ends, however, that you rile him up again. 

And this time is his last straw.

You reach for the remote that was sitting on the coffee table a little to the right of Kyojuro. To reach it you stretch your body, practically over the man’s lap to change the channel. And maybe also to wiggle your ass in his face.

Kyojuro lets out a sigh. This teasing game was getting tiring. Clearly you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. And frankly, today he was a bit too tired to rub one out in the bathroom to the thought of you. Why do so when you’re right in front of him, begging for it. 

You yelp as a heavy hand smacks right on your ass. It hurts, and it stings, but you swore it was the best  feeling ever. 

You turn around, eyes as wide and innocent as ever as you face him. “Kyojuro, what was-”

“Shut up” he rolls his eyes, “Sit on my lap” he says. 

And you're sat as soon as the words leave his mouth. The tone of his voice made you feel like you were in trouble, like you were in for it bad tonight. 

“Usually I love teasing, I really do. You have a beautiful pussy Y/n” he compliments, “It’s almost as pretty as you”

You’re convinced you need to wake yourself up from a dream as Kyojuro leans to start kissing your neck. Your head feels a bit fuzzy. There was a lot going on, pretty fast. Your brain was barely managing to keep up. 

“But I'm too tired for the games today, so just take what you want” he tells you. 

And you have the nerve to stutter in response, as if you hadn’t been torturing him for weeks, 

“I-I-...I- d-don’t know what to say” you moan as his hands stay firm on your waist, massaging your lower back. 

He rolls his eyes, a hand coming to wrap ever so gently around your throat. The hold doesn’t hurt at all, but it does turn you on. Real bad. Kyojuro drags you closer, so your lips are close to his. “So you can be a slut all the time but not right now, huh?” he says, “That’s  a shame”

You could barely register his words though, trying to lean in to press a kiss to his lips. But Kyojuro uses his hold on you to keep you back. 

“Uh, uh, I don't kiss girls who can’t tell me what they want upfront” he says and you pout. Kyojuro swears it’s the cutest thing he had ever seen. But your cuteness wouldn’t get you out of this. Not now at least.

“You’re mean Kyo’ ”  You whine, hips unconsciously moving from how arousing this whole situation felt.

But Kyojuro just chuckles, “I’m the mean one, but you’ve been teasing me with your cunt for the past week” he says, “A nice girl would've let me taste it ... .play with it” he continues.

“Sounds to me like you’ve been mean” he counters.

His words make you imagine all sorts of things. You might die if he ever played with your cunt, and if he ate it you were sure you’d cum too fat. 

“Fuck, I want that” you moan. “I want it so bad”

“No, didn’t I tell you that’s what nice girls get,” Kyojuro says, “Remind me what you are again?”

You sigh, “I’m mean” you say, and Kyojuro smiles, finally leaning in and letting you kiss him. The kiss feels good, it is good. TO be fair, you hadn’t been kissed by many people before. Or any for that manner. But you liked the feeling, it was exhilarating. His lips were strong, guiding you through the kiss. He could tell by how clumsy your lips were against his that you didn’t do this often. 

But he took care of you, helping you get the hang of kissing until you were confidently pressing your lips against his. He pushed your limits by sliding his tongue into your mouth. It was weird, to have him stick his tongue down your throat. But you liked it. You were sure you’d love anything Kyojuro did to you.

Your hips started to grind down on the man's lap, whining into his filthy kisses. It felt like the hold he had on your neck was keeping the oxygen from itching your brain. Everything was intoxicating, the feeling of him everywhere. His hands on your waist, or really trailing all along your body now. His lips claiming yours in a sweet kiss. His thigh between your legs. 

Kyojuro could feel you grinding against his lap and he shifts you onto one of his thighs. You cry out as he flexes his thigh. And you can feel every vein on the appendage rubbing perfectly against your clit. 

You feel like a dirty whore as you hump against him, huffing into his mouth. It wasn’t even all that much friction, but you could feel yourself soaking your underwear. It was getting to the point that you were sopping through your underwear, your shorts too! And if Kyojuro’s pants were any lighter, there would be remnants of your slick along his thigh. 

“Nasty little girl aren’t you baby” he mumbles into your mouth, “So wet for me”

You grind yourself harder into his thigh as he talks to you, “I can’t help it Kyo, it feels so good”

It was embarrassing, how close you were just from a bit of humping. But something about Kyojuro just filled you with a nasty need. He was so fucking sexy, and you had  wanted him in any way you could get him. 

Just having him now was driving you a bit crazy. 

Your loud whines filled the room as Kyojuro’s hands started  to help you grind. It’s a lot, but it’s good. A little too good. You wish you could prolong the pleasure. Hell you hoped this moment would ever end. 

You press another kiss to Kyojuro’s lips again. It’s sweeter and softer than before. But the hand around your throat that pulls you away reminds you how raunchy this moment really is. 

“You close doll?” he asks lowly. 

“Y-Yeah Kyo, M’so close. I-I think i’m gonna cum” you moan. 

Kyojuro smiles. The sight of you. A whiny mess on top of him was almost worth ignoring the rock hard boner in his pajama pants. Made him wonder how pretty you’d look taking his cock. Would you whine?Would you cry?Would you cream?

But he would save that for another time. 

For now he’d grind you on his lap until he made your sloppy cunt cum. And then maybe. He’d give you what you really deserved.

“What are you waiting for then?”Kyojuro says, “Go ahead and cum”

His words seem to possess your body. And you grip onto the hand squeezing around your neck. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as pleasure overwhelms you. Kyojuro sees nothing but the whites of your eyes as your pupils disappear into the back of your head. 

He’s made a fair share of girls cum but…never this hard. 

Kyojuro was almost scared you were hurt with how long your body was still. But he lets out a sigh of relief as your body shakes over his. You spew out a flurry of thank you’s and mess up whimpers of his name. 

And for a moment, Kyojuro freaks out a bit at the wetness that spills over his lap. 

He lands a mean slap on your ass and you yelp as he finally lets your neck go. You collapse against this chest, his strong hands wrapping around you, massaging your waist just as he did before. 

Kyojuro thinks you’re spent, how could you not be after how hard you just came. 

But as you pull back in his hold, eyes tired, droopy yet filled with need. A small request spills from your lips, “If I tell you what I really want will you do it?” you ask softly.

And Kyojuro thinks that tonight might be longer than he thought.

~ Kinktober Masterlist|2024

[pugh-bug]

Flashing Lights

Art Donaldson x reader

If people like this I’ll write a part 2 and possibly some sub Art fics in the future. Challengers is all I can think about at the moment and this blonde man is living rent free in my brain.

——————————————————————

‘Come on come on, they can never have too many pictures taken of them!’

Your friend dragged you and your mediocre camera, quite forcefully, to Tashi Duncan’s party. It wasn’t just that you hadn’t been invited and that you weren’t remotely a tennis player it was that Ashley’s lame excuse of ‘they need more photographers’ was patently untrue. Everywhere you looked there were photographers with cameras that cost more than your yearly rent.

‘I’ll get us a drink wait here.’

You watched her confidently insert herself into the queue for the bar, in between endless posters of Tashi Duncan hoodies and Tashi Duncan headbands. If you hadn’t been such a feminist you might have felt a little sick from all the masturbatory self promotion.

In your idleness you decided to people watch. There were no less than a hundred people there already, all dressed elegantly with hair and makeup that no doubt took longer to do than the night would even last. You pulled at your tight dress. Flattering? Definitely. Comfortable? Absolutely not. Ashley had the tennis body, the Tashi Duncan confidence and skill but without the praise or queue of fans. You had your camera.

You hadn’t touched a tennis racket since you were ten years old. These people weren’t your peers they were your betters, including the snobby photographers and perhaps even including Ashely. At least she knew what ‘down the line’ meant.

‘Can we go?’ Your voice sounded bitter as Ashley handed you a cocktail. ‘I’ve got two photoshoots to edit for tomorrow and I don’t even like tennis! Why am I even here?’ As your friend defended her plan to ‘sleep with as many rich tennis players as possible’ your eyes wandered once again, this time landing on a man who needed no introduction.

‘Is that … Art Donaldson?’

It was him, smoking a cigarette by Patrick Zweig dressed for Summer. Fire and ice in the flesh. You suddenly felt the need to readjust your dress, your hair, your earrings. To fidget. To fidget and prepare for the chance he might look in your direction and see what he wanted.

‘Fuck me it’s Zweig.’

As Ashley launched into a thesis on why Patrick was the hottest man she’d ever seen, your eyes bored into the side of Art’s head. His curls fell so perfectly on his forehead but all you could find yourself imagining was messing them up. As your staring breached the line of too far, Ashley tapped your arm. ‘Think I should go talk to him? Flirt a bit? He’s a bit of a man whore, I’m pretty sure I could get him.’ Just as you opened your mouth to speak, the recipient of your staring began to move closer.

It only took a few moments for Art to reach yours and Ashley’s corner of refuge but his eyes never strayed from you. Zweig had followed him like a puppy and whilst you couldn’t have cared less where the brunette chose to stand, you could practically feel Ashley screaming in her head.

‘Aaliyah right? You basically murdered my friend out there yesterday.’ As Ashley corrected Patrick’s memory, you forced your eyes to look at anything that wasn’t Art’s knowing smirk in your direction. It didn’t work, in fact your refusal to make eye contact with the future star had made your feelings glaringly obvious.

You’d watched him play many times, instead of doing your own work, and although you found tennis a little boring the man had you riveted. The ease at which he hit the ball with such force, the little hand movements he’d do during a tie break and his cruel habit of taking his shirt off on hot days … you were hooked.

As he eyed your dress you wondered if he’d seen you, made note of just how many matches you’d been front and centre at. Maybe he knew you were an amateur photographer and perhaps his smirk was intended as a mockery of your being there. Art knew you didn’t belong at thee Tashi Duncan’s after party. You both knew it. He looked at you, finally as you’d lifted your gaze, and cocked his head slightly to the side.

‘So, you don’t like tennis?’

Shit.

‘Oh. You heard that.’

‘Yep.’

His voice was glazed with amusement as he sipped his cold beer, daring you to defend yourself.

‘Ashley was invited,’ you lied with little ease. ‘I’m here as her friend- well I guess also photographer but you all seem to have that covered.’ Both yours and Art’s eyes glanced at the gang of professionals taking Tashi’s photo. She was holding the shimmering trophy as if it was nothing of real value, she had the humble but proud smile down. Art clocked your jealous expression and raised an eyebrow. ‘Tashi not your favourite?’

‘She’s pretty amazing and she looks fucking beautiful tonight I can’t lie. I just, I guess I wish I was that talented.’

Despite her successful flirting to Patrick, Ashley heard your little, sad admission. Mentally you scolded yourself for letting Art see your vulnerable side. Instead of judgement he smiled.

‘Are you not the best at getting front row seats?’

He left off ‘at my matches’ but the point had been made loud and clear. You chose not to react and to ignore him completely. ‘Ashley?’ But when you turned your head to your friend you saw her mouth was occupied. Oh.

Art laughed at his best friend. ‘Seriously? You couldn’t go one night?’ No, Patrick couldn’t and he couldn’t find it in his horny heart to feel guilty for stealing your one friend and escape route from you. The pair, still connected by their lips, hurried away from the party and to some poor fucker’s bedroom. You were alone with Art Donaldson and the party that engulfed the two of you had began to die down.

‘I should go too-‘

‘Wanna go down to the beach with me?’

You couldn’t help but scoff audibly at his request. ‘You don’t even know my name.’

Art’s eyes practically gleamed with cheekiness as he moved towards you. ‘Then tell me.’

‘It’s Y/N.’

With a charming smile he repeated his offer. ‘Y/N… wanna go down to the beach with me?’

If a mind reader had been in attendance you’d have been mortified as your first thought was: Oh god have I even shaved?

The decision to take your heels off had been an impulsive one and an instant regret as you felt the brittle sand rub against your toes. Avoiding the broken glass, you walked into Art’s shoulder and quickly apologised. ‘You’re like a baby deer.’

You perched on the rock overlooking the water that moonlight reached. Art’s eyes were transfixed on you as your hair blew from your shoulders. Surely he was just bored and flirting for fun. But you hadn’t seen him speak to anyone except Patrick before approaching you.

‘What is it about photography?’ Art gestured to the camera you almost forgot you were still wearing around your neck.

‘What is it about tennis?’

Art lit his second cigarette, took a drag and smirked.

‘I’ll let you answer that.’

Much to his elation, your dress had begun to ride up but you hadn’t noticed. You simply dug your toes in the sand and smiled coyly at the blonde. But how to best handle this?

‘Watching you play tennis isn’t like watching other people play tennis.’

Art grinned, only for a moment, but you caught the ego boost in real time. He moved backwards in his chair, outstretching his long legs and looking up at you with keen interest and quiet amusement. ‘Go on.’

Your mind flashed back to his most recent match. His opponent had purposefully coughed every time it was Art’s turn to serve and instead of letting it distract him or doing it back Art had fired the ball, with force, by his head. It had been a warning, not a greatly subtle one but certainly great to watch. The shock on the boys face as he narrowly missed receiving a black eye had made you laugh and you suddenly remembered Art had beamed at you when you had.

‘You’re just really good at it.’

‘Try again.’

He wasn’t making this easy for you but that didn’t mean you had to shower him in compliments, not when he hadn’t so much as asked you your name until prompted. You watched him, completely settled and comfortable in Tashi Duncan’s deck hair and wondered if someone this confident and talented (and knew as much) could possibly be single… unless?

‘Are you and Patrick just friends?’

He twitched ever so slightly at your question before covering his shock with a chuckle.

‘Umm.. yes. Sorry to disappoint.’

You smiled, suddenly feeling more confident now that you’d put him on the spot for the first time that night.

‘Not disappointed.’

Seeing you at ease, seemingly with any answer he had to offer, Art relaxed into his chair again. A moment of silence passed as the two of you listened to the very end of the party above and the seas tumbling waves. The water was just beginning to reach the rock you’d been safely perching on. A sign to leave.

‘I think I should go back to my ho-AAA!’

You’d barely taken two steps before buried broken glass assaulted your feet.

‘Jesus fuck!’

‘Y/N!’

The pain shot through you from toe to head, it settled in between your eyebrows as you frowned, trying not to scream. Art’s face was a picture of panic. He couldn’t help but notice how much pain you were in from putting weight on your foot, which had just begun to bleed as a thought entered his head.

‘I’ll carry you.’

‘I think I can walk.’

You took a hesitant step further but your foot ,in an act of betrayal, buckled under the pain. Giving Art a look of defeat you sighed. ‘Yeah, I think you’re gonna have to.’

You thought it would feel strange, the man whom you’d been watching almost obsessively for months play a sport you despised carrying you to safety. It didn’t. It felt right. His strong arms flexed under your weight as he took confident but cautious steps to Tashi’s party. There wasn’t much left of it. In fact the only people still there were two photographers packing up their lighting equipment and they didn’t give you so much as a second glance.

‘Any chance you secretly are friends with Tashi?’ Art asked, his voice hopeful, hoping he could drop you off to safety. He pursed his lips when you shook your head. Another moment of silence passed through the two of you but this one was different. You craned your neck out to gage the distance before suggesting:

‘My hotel really isn’t far. A mile at most.’

Art smirked for a moment, forgetting what the actual circumstances were. Your foot had stopped bleeding but you didn’t feel like walking. In fact you were rather enjoying Art Donaldson: the knight in shining armour. It was a good look on him.

‘Uber?’

‘Think of it as a workout.’

It wasn’t the recreational workout Art had been hoping for that night but he did it. He carried you and your shoes to your hotel room. The receptionist barely reacted to your new person but of course what did she care? She was probably only concerned with what mess you’d leave the cleaners.

‘67, this is it.’

Art put you down, keeping his arm around your waist for support. He was a little flushed from the exertion and you were flushed from the pain, or perhaps just his wandering hand.

‘Do you want me to st-‘

‘I want you to stay.’ You interrupted him hurriedly, desperate for him to stay. In that moment you didn’t mind if he stayed to read the complimentary bible next to you or if he wanted to fuck you mercilessly in front of the bathroom mirror. You just wanted him close.

At your eagerness, Art smiled following you in. Your hotel room was not too messy for visitors but it certainly hadn’t been expecting any. For a moment you wondered how Ashley was getting on in her room down the hall and if she too had embarrassed herself in front of her favourite tennis player. Somewhat likely.

‘I think seeing as you’ve carried me bleeding you can see me in pyjamas. Give me one se-‘

You gestured to the bathroom and your dress, looking forward to getting out of it but Art shook his head. You froze. His face was one of sheer determination and unwavering confidence, not unlike the look he gave cocky opponents who needed humbling. He closed the gap between you until his chest was inches from yours but blocked by your camera. You took it off, not breaking eye contact, and placed it slowly on the desk behind you.

Just as you thought the only way to break the silence would be with a kiss, Art broke eye contact. ‘Do you have any antiseptic wipes? Anything to clean it?’ You felt your stomach unclench. ‘Yeah.’ Limping slightly, you fetched a packet from the bathroom sink and placed them in Art’s open palm. He gestured to the bed.

‘Sit.’

His order was polite but you felt compelled. Sitting on your own bed as if it was alien, you looked up at him waiting for the next.

‘Foot.’

Art got down on his knees. Your stomach flipped. With careful hands, he held your injured foot and inspected it. You’d never felt so exposed before, the way his eyes engaged with your wound as if it were more fascinating than any match he’d won. There was an unspoken rule for neither of you to speak as he cleaned you. It stung like a bitch but you only let out minor hisses in pain, barely audible to Art but not unnoticeable.

As he took out a plaster, seemingly from thin air, and applied it to your foot he said: ‘Before tonight,’ Ouch. You winced from the pressure he applied. ‘I’d seen you watching me.’ He didn’t look at you, only concentrating on his handiwork and causing you as little pain as possible.

‘Yeah I gathered from all the teasing.’

His voice grew suddenly lower. ‘I’m not talking about tennis matches.’

You were suddenly reminded of a not so distant memory. Ashley had stood you up for lunch, she’d found a better hot date, and you had been in the cafeteria alone. Art had been queuing in front of you, waiting for Patrick and you’d been in awe. What you hadn’t noticed was that he’d sensed your eyes burning holes into the back of his head long before he turned around. He had given you a passing look of recognition and slight amusement before finding his seat next to Patrick.

You imagined alongside that memory were hundreds others. Hundreds of days you’d stared at Art, watched how he span his apples before eating them and the line of his jaw when he drank water in oppressive heat. All the time he had known, you just hadn’t been as subtle as you thought.

‘Oh.’

Art gave you your foot back and sat on the bed beside you. For a moment you couldn’t bare to look at him, incase he disappeared and decided it was funnier to leave you hanging. Your foot was the least of your worries. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d really kissed someone, with feverish need, but you wanted to.

Noticing your inward battle, Art raised his hands almost in defeat. ‘I can leave.’ He meant it, there was no judgement. You turned to him, your eyes meeting his clouded with lust, and recognised that this was a man who needed to be wanted. He wanted to give and receive pleasure, not out of boredom but out of a clawing need for it. If you wanted him to leave then he’d leave but if you wanted him to stay then he’d make the most of it.

Your hand settled atop of his.

‘Don’t.’

Part 2

Masterlist

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:16」 — s.changbin

» stray kids menu | changbin menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ werebear!Changbin × fem!Reader wc: 4.1k summary: Changbin just wanted to have a nice camping trip with his girlfriend but she has other ideas. genres/themes/au: fluff, smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: fishing, cleaning said fish, camping, storms, food & alcohol consumption; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: so this one is a follow up to last years (which I just posted and I’m sorry about that lol) but werebear!Changbin lives rent free in my head. I love the concept but tbh any werecreature concept for Changbin is so good and I will die on this hill. Thank you for reading! The next one is a Seventeen one with a certain maknae. So please look forward to that! Thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), outdoor sex (it's fucking in tents lol i'll see myself out), strength kink, oral (m receiving, f receiving), deepthroating, fingering (f receiving), protected sex (do this. Use protection like them), use of pet names (hers: baby, babe, etc.; his: babe, Binnie, bear, etc.), soft dom!Changbin, switch!Reader, that should be all but let me know if I missed something! kinks: Outdoor sex + strength kink dialogue prompt: ❛❛ I cannot possibly focus with your damn hand in my- ❜❜

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This wasn’t exactly how he envisioned his camping trip with his girlfriend going but Changbin wasn’t complaining, not when you looked so pretty on top of him, taking his cock like it was made for you and you alone.

The trip had started out innocent enough, driving to the national park where Changbin often went camping on his own. This was the first time he was taking you with him and he had been beyond ecstatic to show you around his stomping ground.

Your initial worry of running into something dangerous dissipated quickly when Changbin reminded you that it wasn’t the wolves, or the bears, or the big cats that were the scariest thing in the forest. It was him.

Not long after the fateful night you gave yourselves to each other, Changbin told you the truth. He was plagued with a curse that often left him irritable, standoffish, and withdrawn once a month: he was a werebear. It came as a shock and at first, you tried to play it off but the more he explained, the more everything started to make sense.

His terrible mood swings that always seemed to happen once a month, and always around the full moon. His unexplainable illness that also accompanied his irritability. The inexplicable display of strength he showed that night and ever since. It wasn’t until your first full moon with him that you truly understood.

He’d taken you with him, ensuring you would be safe as he locked himself in a shed, hidden deep within the woods, deeper than you thought anyone would normally venture and well off the beaten path. He’d shown you the truth and while the thought of it terrified you, there was an undeniable attraction to the raw show of strength he exhibited when he nearly tore the bars from the windows of his makeshift cell.

Since then, you’d been by his side, thankful he chose to share that side of him with you so that you would not only know what you were getting yourself into but also because it meant he trusted you with his secret. Your relationship with Changbin blossomed naturally, albeit not in the order most relationships did but you wouldn’t change anything about it.

After being together for nearly two years, he finally decided he was sick of having his own space and wanted to find a place you could share together. You offered to let him move into your apartment and as much as he liked your place and the memories it held, he wanted to find a new place for you to make yours, together.

It had taken nearly 6 months to find a place that met your criteria but once you were both on the same page, you found a cute two bedroom top floor apartment not far from your current building. It was another historic building in the quiet part of town, away from the hustle and bustle of downtown. The move was easy when you had a boyfriend who despite his smaller stature could very easily lift boxes that would make any ordinary man buckle under the weight.

The furniture was easy as well. Your couch was moved in the middle of the night so no one would see Changbin singlehandedly carrying it up the stairs of the new building. Your bed, being bigger than Changbin’s and much more comfortable, was carried in the same way: under the cover of night.

Whatever didn’t fit in the new apartment was put in a storage unit until you could sell it, which Changbin graciously offered to pay for. The new apartment was bigger than both of your old ones but still cozy and comfortable.

The dark hardwood floors contrasted well with the lighter tone walls. The kitchen faced the small balcony with floor to ceiling windows that separated the two. Vaulted ceilings made the space feel much bigger and Changbin enjoyed living on the top floor with no one above him.

The other nice thing about this building was the walls were thick which meant you didn’t have to be quiet during your more vigorous activities, a quirk Changbin took full advantage of as he made sure to break in every new surface of the kitchen by either bending you over it or laying you back on top of it.

Only after being settled into the new apartment, did Changbin ask you to go camping with him. Fall was settling in, a distinct chill in the air as the leaves of the few trees in the city started to turn. Browns, oranges, yellows, and even reds decorated the branches before the leaves inevitably fell to the ground to be swept away by some street cleaner if the wind didn’t get to them first.

You were beyond excited to go camping with Changbin. You hadn’t been since you were quite young and the prospect of being alone in the woods with your boyfriend posed many new experiences for the both of you. The thought of sharing a tent in the middle of the forest with a campfire, so far from anyone, sounded equal parts spooky and romantic.

Changbin had most of the essential camping gear packed away in the storage unit and once retrieved and all things accounted for, there were only a few items you still needed to get. A trip to the closest outdoor good store fulfilled the rest of the items needed and after requesting time off from work, you were on your way out of the city to spend a week in the woods with your werebear boyfriend.

What could possibly go wrong?

Despite how smooth things went from leaving to arriving at the forest, your trip seemed to be plagued by some dark cloud as not even ten minutes into your hike, you tripped over a downed log and fell, scraping your hands and knees. Changbin was ready with the first aid kit, cleaning and disinfecting the wounds before patching you up.

He kept a much more watchful eye on you from then on, making sure to help you over anything he deemed remotely dangerous. He jokingly offered to carry you, pack and all, if you kept tripping over things. You briefly thought about taking him up on his offer when you slipped over a moss covered rock but ultimately decided to just be more careful and cautious.

The first stop of your trip ended with you camping several yards from a river that wound through the entire forest. Changbin initially was going to set up right beside it but after noticing the sky, he decided higher ground was a smarter move. When you asked him about it, he said it was his intuition.

That night, you were eternally grateful for the extra blankets and even portable heater he brought, not that his body wasn’t a portable heater in of itself. The temperatures plummeted down near freezing as a massive thunderstorm blew in. Changbin’s intuition was right on the money. The torrential downpour made the river swell to twice the size it had been the day before and due to his smart decision making, you were safe from the roaring river that raged just a few yards from your tent.

Changbin made sure you were kept snug and warm, using the portable heater while he was awake before using his body warmth to keep you from freezing. It did the trick and once you got warm initially, you never got cold again throughout the night.

The next morning looked like the scene out of a disaster movie. Branches littered the shore of the river which had reduced in size almost back down to what it had been before. There were even some litter like old tires and even a torn up tent that had washed downriver. The last one had Changbin concerned and after leaving for a brief hike, he discovered an old abandoned camping site which he surmised the tent had come from.

Though you were ready to pack up and move on, Changbin assured you that the second night wouldn’t be as rough. You instead kept camp by the river, going for a hike with Changbin, following the river as it got faster and faster until the forest opened up and the river gave way to a fantastic cascade that plummeted down the side of a massive cliff at least thirty feet.

At the bottom was a deep pool where the water collected before continuing on into the river and snaking through the trees before disappearing out of sight. You wanted to climb down and check it out but Changbin promised next time, he would plan a course that included this spot.

After your hike, you returned to camp and Changbin surprised you by pulling out a couple of fishing rods. You’d never been fishing as you always thought it was kind of boring and the idea of skewering a worm on the end of a hook had your skin crawling.

Thankfully your boyfriend took over, hooking the bait before showing you how to cast. It wasn’t exciting by any means, waiting for the fish to bite but once you did hook a fish, you were so ecstatic, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Changbin had to take over, reeling it in for you until the fish finally flopped out of the water and danced for a moment on the end of your line.

It was a trout, he told you. The first one of the day and you caught it. After the initial shock and excitement wore off, you were ready to go again but you still refused to bait your own hook, something Changbin didn’t mind doing at all.

After several hours, you managed to catch quite a few fish. Changbin showed you how to gut and clean the fish, tossing the insides back into the water where he told you it’s actually beneficial to the ecosystem. Other creatures feed on the entrails like crawdads and other fish. It’s better to toss them in the water than leave them on the banks.

Dinner that night was the fish Changbin cleaned and fileted with some veggies and a few mushrooms he found on your hike. After dinner, you relaxed by the fire, enjoying the warmth it provided while drinking a beer from the pack brought on the trip. 

The next morning, you helped pack up and continued on past the river and further into the forest. The next stop was right at the edge of a clearing down the mountain from where you had stayed. Changbin was certain this was a good place to camp, taking note of the tall grass that looked wholly untouched by the rains from the other night. 

He found a nice flat spot in the shade of the trees to set up the tent as well as an old fire pit ringed in rocks. While he tried to set up the tent, you kept distracting him. You weren’t sure what it was about how he looked that morning when you woke up but you couldn’t seem to keep your hands to yourself. The extra attention you gave him made him blush but he couldn’t complain with all the additional kisses and lingering touches. He liked it.

After he finally got the tent set up, he entered to unfurl the mats to place under the sleeping bags. You followed him, helping him with the pillows until you couldn’t take it anymore and needed to have your hands on him. Changbin couldn’t help but chuckle as your hands wandered, feeling up his bicep as he flexed, pulling the sleeping bags from their stuff sacks one by one.

“I’m trying to set up our tent,” he said softly, grabbing one of your hands and kissing the back of it. “You’re distracting me,” he added, chuckling as your hands moved, sliding over his chest as you moved behind him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling into his neck. “What's gotten into you?” he asked as he laid out the sleeping bags over the mats. 

Instead of answering him, you placed light kisses along his neck, enjoying the way he paused, tilting his head to give you more access. “Seriously,” he sighed as one of your hands slid down his stomach to palm over his semi-hard cock. “What's going on?” he asked.

You nipped at the skin below the shell of his ear, hand massaging against him harder and making him groan as he paused, eyes fluttering shut. “Can’t even wait for me to finish?” he murmured, moving his hand over yours as he lightly bucked into your touch.

“Let me finish this and then I’m all yours,” he murmured, pulling your hand back as much as he didn’t want to. He wanted nothing more than for you to have your hands all over him but he also wanted to make sure the tent was set up fully.

You whined, pouting at him as you moved your hand back, making him chuckle. His breath caught as your hand slipped into his pants, darting under the waistband of his underwear to firmly grasp his hot cock in your warm hand. “Fuck,” he groaned as you started to stroke him. “Baby, what has gotten into you?” he asked again as you started to stroke him faster.

“Am I distracting you?” you whispered in his ear as his hips chased your movements, bucking against your hand. “Why don’t you keep going?” you added, nipping at his earlobe. “I cannot possibly focus with your damn hand in my – hng!” he groaned as your hand squeezed him a little harder.

He grabbed your wrist, holding it steady as he rutted into your touch. “F-fuck, baby. Gonna cum if you keep doing that.” At his words, you pulled your hand from his pants, ignoring the glare he gave you until you pushed him back against the sleeping bags and grabbed the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down past his hips and quickly taking hold of his cock again.

Changbin let out a gasp, head falling back as your hand moved up and down his shaft before taking the tip into your mouth, your tongue warm and went against his skin. He let out a guttural moan as your head sank down, taking as much of his thick cock onto your mouth as you could, teeth lightly scraping against the skin.

His hands moved to the back of your head, pushing you down more. “Holy shit, babe,” he gasped as you took more and more of him in, relaxing your jaw and pushing until his cockhead was nestled against the back of your throat.

Letting out a shaky breath, Changbin raised his head slightly, taking in the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth. He groaned as he felt your swallow against the tip of his cock, aching for it to be buried in your throat. As if you read his mind, you forced your head down, the head of his cock pushing into your throat and he choked out a moan, hips bucking slightly as he held your head down.

Your lungs begged for air but you waited, saliva starting to spill from your mouth and drip down the small part of his cock that didn’t fit into your mouth. “Oh fuck, baby,” he moaned as you swallowed around him, feeling his cock throb and twitch against your tongue. “M’gonna cum,” he breathed out, fingers tightening their grip on your hair as he thrusted once more, thick ropes of cum shooting out of him and painting your throat.

You wait until the last of it finished spurting from him before you pulled back, his cock slipping from your throat and mouth and air finally invading your lungs as you inhaled deeply. You look at your boyfriend, watching as his chest rose and fell, head lying back against the sleeping bag. His eyes fluttered open taking in your triumphant expression. “Fuck that was so hot,” he groaned as you pulled his pants up over his now flaccid cock.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you right now,” he said as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. “But I like it,” he said with a crooked grin. You wiped your lips on your sleeve, giving him another smile. You started to pull away but he grabbed your wrist. “Let me return the favor,” he croaked. You shook your head. “It’s okay,” you replied, voice slightly hoarse. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he replied, gently pulling you to take his place, lying down where he’d just been laying moments before. He quickly peered outside the tent, grabbing your packs and bringing them inside to set against the side of the wall. He zipped up the tent entrance and turned to you, moving to grab your leggings and pull them down, slipping your boots off at the same time.

He made quick work of your panties, pulling them off before settling down on his stomach, face level with your pussy. He licked his lips, spreading your folds before giving you a slow lick from your entrance to your clit, his tongue flat against you. He let out a groan as his tongue swirled around your clit, the vibrations making you gasp as your back lightly arched off the ground.

“Binnie,” you breathed out, fingers combing through his curls as he lapped greedily at your cunt, savoring the taste as he moved his hands, holding your hips in place. He groaned against your skin as he teased your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your thighs squeezed his head slightly as he suckled on the sensitive nub. “B-Binnie,” you moaned, your free hand moving over his on your hip.

You pulled his hand up, guiding it under your sweatshirt to your chest. Taking the silent plea, Changbin pushed your sweatshirt up, groping your breast as he continued to suck and tease your clit with his tongue. His hand slipped under your bra, palm hot against your skin as he kneaded.

Without breaking contact with your pussy, he moved his hand, squeezing under your back to undo your bra clasp with expert precision before pushing the cups up to expose your tits. Both of his hands cupped your chest as he kept his mouth trained on your pussy. You placed a hand over his as he kneaded your tits, lightly raking your nails against his scalp with your other hand.

You felt his teeth graze your clit and your hips rolled up into his face, grinding against him. He let you, holding his tongue flat against your clit as you continued to buck your hips, riding his face as your orgasm drew closer and closer. Changbin moved his hands down, sliding them under your ass as he focused all his attention on your clit, letting you grind against his tongue.

You moaned loudly, a firm grip on his hair while your other hand fondled your chest, pinching one of your nipples as you came, moaning a chant of your boyfriend’s name and a slew of curses as he helped you ride out your high. Changbin lapped up every drop of your release, his cock painfully hard against the sleeping bag. 

You gasped as you came down from your climax, Changbin wiping his mouth with his shirt as he crawled over you, kissing up your stomach and chest, stopping to run his tongue over your nipple before he enveloped it with his mouth, suckling softly. He pulled back, letting it fall from his mouth before he took you in a sear kiss, tongue invading your mouth quickly.

You felt his cloth covered cock, hard again, against your crotch. “Binnie, baby,” you whined, rolling your hips up to meet his. “I need you.” He chuckled against your skin, littering kisses along your neck. “Is my baby impatient?” he asked softly, his hands pulling your sweatshirt up over your head and pulling your loose bra off, leaving you completely nude under him.

“Yes,” you breathed as his hands cupped your chest, squeezing the supple flesh and moving to roll your nipples between his fingers. “Needs me to fuck her immediately?” he whispered, kissing along your collarbone to your shoulder. You clawed at his shirt, pulling it up his back as you begged him with soft pleas. Changbin obliged, sitting up to pull his shirt off.

“Binnie,” you whined, hands moving to his waistband and tugging to pull him closer. “Please, bear,” you moaned as he grinded his hard cock against your soaking cunt, wetting his sweats. “Please baby, please.” His cock twitched in his pants and he moved to grab his pack, unzipping one of the inner pockets where he kept the condoms.

He pulled one out, setting the bag back against the wall of the tent. You watched him with wide eyes as he pushed his pants and underwear down in one go, shimmying out of them with the tip of the condom wrapper in his teeth. You licked your lips, eyes drinking in his naked body hungrily as he tore open the packet and carefully rolled the latex down his length.

He didn’t need to ask if you were ready, his fingers moving to your entrance and pushing two into you with ease. He still wanted to make sure you were properly stretched before he even attempted to fill you with his thick cock. Your hips moved against his hand as he fit a third into you, pumping steadily in and out of your walls. Your back arched, moaning wantonly as he curled his fingers against your inner walls. “Binnie,” you whimpered, grabbing at his arms and tugging him.

“Please fuck me,” you breathed. “I need you, baby.”

Changbin withdrew his fingers, replacing them with the tip of his cock and pushing the head into you with a sigh. You let out a content moan as he slowly slid into you, stretching your cunt as you accommodated his girth. Once he was full inside you, he started a slow, steady pace, holding your hips in place as he rutted into you.

“Feels so good,” you gasped. “Feels so f-full.”

A groan escaped Changbin as he fucked into you more roughly, hands spreading your thighs as he held you down. Your hands grabbed at him, pulling him closer as your walls sucked him in over and over. Taking the silent plea, he repositioned, putting your legs over his shoulders as he leaned over, folding your body in half as he thrust down into you roughly.

He learned quickly that this was your favorite position. You had called it the mating press and told him you loved how it made you feel like you were at his mercy. You always complimented his strength in and out of the bedroom and it always made him feel a surge of pride.

“How’s that?” he grunted, pinning you down as he rocked into you, cock filling your cunt with each harsh thrust. “S’good. Fuck, baby!” you cursed, brows knitted together in pleasure. “So strong, Binnie. Love it when you pin me down.” A deep growl emanated from Changbin’s chest as his pace increased, slamming into you roughly, the sound of skin against skin filling the tent.

You cried out as his cock hit the spot deep in you that had your toes curling. “Fuck, right there, baby,” you gasped as Changbin continued to hit the same spot. “Right there?” he asked in a low tone, holding back a moan as you clenched around him. “Right there!” you moaned. “Fuck, yes, keep doing that!”

Changbin slammed into you harsher as your walls clamped down on his cock, an orgasm ripping through you unexpectedly as you came, coating his cock in your release as you writhed in pleasure, screaming his name repeatedly.

Changbin fucked you through your orgasm before he carefully let your legs fall back down. He stilled, kissing your face as you came down slowly. “Think you can ride me for a bit, baby?” he whispered in between kisses. You nodded eagerly, sitting up as he slipped out of you, taking your spot on his back as you hurriedly climbed over him.

He let out a chuckle at your eagerness, groaning as you lined the tip of his cock with your pussy and sank down on him, a moan escaping both of you as your walls welcomed him back in. You gave him only a second to adjust before you started moving, bouncing on his cock and making him groan, hands grabbing your hips as he helped you move.

“Fuck baby,” he groaned. “Slow down or I’m gonna cum.” You placed your hands on his chest as you rode him harder, faster with a smirk on your lips.

“That’s the idea.”

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