#now i'm at home for a week and i'm sitting on my bed now and my mind is like “i don't want to be here i don't want to be here” on repeat

[swamp-world]

Ooh genuinely the best and most stressful part of going out of town is trying to make everything line up for this to all happen SO. my checklist of things to always do before you go:

Full disclosure: if possible I tend to take early-morning or late-night trips, so I often don't sleep before flying or travelling (anxiety about being late), so I tend to do all of this the night before travelling. I can't really advise on the best way to fit this into daytime leaving-times but you are clever people.

Stinky things. The obvious ones but it's easy to forget one or two. Clean the bathrooms, empty ALL the garbage and compost and recycling, flush the toilets and scrub them. It is tempting not to scrub your toilets before you go away because you are going away and will not be using them. This is the devil talking. Scrub your toilet. Also wash the sinks themselves. I don't care if you normally do or not, do it before you go away for three weeks. Put fresh garbage bags in. I know you are not going to be using the garbage for three weeks but you-in-three-weeks is going to be pissed at you-right-now when you get home and just want to toss out your garbage and fall asleep. (yes it is a small thing. yes it is worth it.)

Bath/shower. Make sure your shower curtain is spread out! Save yourself the mildew! If you like baths, make sure your tub is clean so that if you want to come home and soak you can! Either way, have things ready to have a shower when you get back.

Laundry: sheets, towels, clothes. This one is the most pain in the ass because it involves timing your laundry for a few days before, if you're like me, but there is nothing better than coming home to fresh sheets on a newly made bed, clean towels laid out, and pyjamas all ready (or a set of clothes that you don't have to think about, if you have to go to work/school/other things as soon as you get back in).

Laundry - sheets. The night before I travel I'll change out my sheets and ideally since I'm up all night wash the dirty sheets and put them away so I don't have to worry about them upon return. If you can't do fully fresh sheets, wash them the day before, and take a few minutes to make sure your bed is made nicely. That way when you get in you can either fall asleep right away, or start unpacking and sort things on your bed without having to strip or remake it.

Laundry - towels. I do my sheets and towels all together, so the same rules apply. Leave a full towel set ready for yourself (and however many other people in the house are travelling). If you have roommates who aren't travelling, this isn't as much a problem, but still make sure you have towels set aside for yourself for when you return, in case your roommate used them all and forgot to do laundry.

Laundry - clothes. I don't like leaving laundry sitting before going away in case it stinks or starts to take up smells, so same as the sheets, I'll do all the dirty laundry before going away, so that hopefully the only dirty laundry I have is what I'm wearing when I leave the house. If I have to, I'll do laundry the day before I travel, and whatever clothes I'll be wearing for that day, I make sure I would want to take them with me, so that I toss them in my bag and clean them while travelling. Same with pyjamas.

Speaking of pyjamas! Make sure you leave a clean set ready. Put them under your pillow or lay them out on your bed. Same goes for clothing--before you leave, it's never a bad idea to lay out some outfits for when you return. If you can, have a nice outfit and a casual outfit, even if you're planning on getting home in the evening and not having to do anything. There's always a chance your flight gets delayed or rescheduled, and this way if the worst-case scenario hits and you need to get home and run out the door to work, you're set and have saved yourself a few minutes of stress; and best case scenario, you can just come home and change out of your gross travel clothes and into comfy clothes.

And about your clean clothes: fold them and put them away. Half of this is all less about having to do the work itself when you return and more about the relief of not having the visual clutter, mess, or reminder of further chores to be done. Coming home to empty laundry baskets just feels good.

Dishes. Self explanatory. Don't leave any. Wash the sink itself. Leave them to dry themselves, no worries. But DO NOT leave the dishwasher full; in my experience unless you clean your dishwasher regularly the dishes in there are just likely to get gross all over again.

Fridge. Go through it a few days before you go. Make sure you're using what can't be frozen. Don't wait until the day before to start sorting and packing things up to freeze. And more things can be frozen than you think! Look it up if you're not sure! Last time I left I was up late prepping a huge block of paneer for freezing because it took prep work, so make sure you're prepared to take a bit of time for that instead of getting blindsided.

Floors. Sweep them, mop if you get a chance. Dust is going to settle while you're gone and you are going to have to sweep when you get back anyways, but better to minimize that so you aren't super grumpy when you take your socks off. Same goes for vacuuming carpets.

The rest is mostly just tidying up clutter and making things look organized. You're doing this for no one but yourself, so don't be too harsh about it, but think about what you-in-three-weeks will want to return to. It doesn't have to be "everything in its right place" but certainly enough that you're not having to clean off counter space or sort through piles, or looking at a pile and sighing because you will have to sort through it.

If you have the ability to plan food for yourself for when you get in, do that. See if you've got something shelf-stable or in the freezer that you can have for breakfast the day after you get in so you aren't panicking about buying groceries immediately. Try to have a prepped meal in the freezer that you can microwave or something of the sort if you don't want to have to buy a meal.

This is about giving yourself some room to decompress after travelling! While it's a break from work or school or whatever, it's often also stressful, and if the travelling aspect itself isn't stressing you out, there's likely a bit of dread about returning to work, or having to cook, or just...daily life. Make it so that when you get home, you're able to relax for a little bit longer. That the chores you have to do are related to unpacking, not cleaning up your messes from three weeks ago.

Don't be afraid to ask people for help with all of this. If you live with roommates and can't wash your sheets before you go, ask if they can wash them for you. If a friend is watering your plants and collecting your mail for you, leave $50 and a grocery list and ask if they can grab some essentials for when you get back. If someone is housesitting for you, make sure they know your expectations for how clean the place should be when you return. Maybe ask if they can sweep a few days before you get back. Get them to take the leftovers out of the freezer so that they're thawed by the time you get in.

I am not very serious about planning for travelling. What I am serious about is planning for returning. That last point is probably the most crucial: if you have friends or family or loved ones who will be able to help when you get back, ask if they can. And do the same for them! When someone is going away for a long time, ask if there's anything you can do to help. If they've got a ride to or from the airport, if you could bring them a meal when they get back. It's nice for if they're returning from a vacation, it's better if they're returning from travelling for more serious reasons, and it means you get to see them to say hello, if only for a few exhausted minutes.

Trust OP when they say that returning to a clean house is better than sex. (And perhaps if you aren't too tired after travelling you can in fact have great sex in your clean house!)

edit lmao i just actually went through the rest of the notes on this post to find someone else saying "DO NOT STAY AWAKE ALL NIGHT THE NIGHT BEFORE TRAVELLING TO GET THIS ALL DONE IN A PANIC, MAKE A CLEANING PLAN OR SCHEDULE FOR THE DAY BEFORE TRAVELLING" and you should probably listen to them, unless you're like me and going to be awake anyways, in which case just make sure you don't start at midnight and need to be ready to leave at 5am.

adding something to my "adult advice that i had to discover for myself either because no one told me or when i saw adults do it as a kid i couldn't possibly understand," featuring such hits as "grill sandwiches with mayo" and "almost no quality matters more than flexibility," and it is:

clean your house before a vacation because returning to an already clean house is waaay better than sex

[cheshiresense]

Hello Anon, I hope you won't mind if I screenshot pieces of your ask, I read it but my muse vaulted over your first 3 questions and then took off on your 4.1, and now here we are, so I'm just going to chop these up and post them depending on what I can come up with.

This started out with TBTP!Shunsui never getting his memories and then kind of spiralled. He still doesn't get his memories but... well, you'll see. It really ran away from me lmao. No thoughts behind it, just vibes, I hammered this out in like fifteen minutes and it felt like a fever dream.

Starrk would definitely have complicated feelings about it. Like at the start when he agreed to go back, I think a part of him even then expected for the entire thing to end with his death, even if they manage to neutralize Aizen and defeat the Wandenreich, but whether or not he manages to survive it all, he definitely has no plans to get together with TBTP!Shunsui.

For one, obviously they're not the same person. I wouldn't say they're completely different, and I imagine TBTP!Shunsui would be a lot closer to Winter War!Shunsui, whom Starrk had met first. But TYBW!Shunsui is the one Starrk knew best, and TYBW!Shunsui suffered quite a few losses in a very short time. Like to Shinigami, even a hundred years probably isn't that much, especially to one who's already lived over a thousand years. But TYBW!Shunsui lost everyone he'd known for a thousand years in like the space of a week, he lost his mentor, he lost his closest friend, and on top of all that, he had the weight of a war fuelled by a grudge a thousand years in the making dumped on his shoulders, he had the duties of Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13 dumped on him, he had the deaths of literal thousands of Shinigami dumped on him, and then in this AU he had to be the one to carry everyone else through another 7 years of waging an endless bloody war that after a certain point neither side was ever going to win, but he had no way of stopping it either.

That sort of thing would take its toll on anyone. TYBW!Shunsui was a man changed by loss and grief and more responsibilities than he'd ever wanted. I imagine he would've had very little time or cause to still remember how to be the person he was before the Quincy War when he still had it in him to relax and enjoy life.

But I also imagine that Starrk being there had helped. Starrk has always been a quick learner, and it's not like he'd really known anyone there save Shunsui. He stuck close to his Shinigami, watched and learnd the way Shunsui strategized for each assault and skirmish, contributed what he could where he could, pitched in by keeping the Fourth Divison alive and functioning, shouldered some of that weight by finally wielding all his strength and mowing down entire battlefields of Quincy on his own just so other Shinigami wouldn't have to and Shunsui would thereby have one less thing to worry about.

And in the precious stolen moments in-between, Shunsui had someone to go home with, someone who guarded him while he slept, someone to distract him from the war (from his failure to protect yet more Shinigami fallen in battle under his command), someone to sit beside who knew the same kind of loneliness and didn't recoil from it, who was content to hold him and share in his silence when he just needed a moment to breathe.

I imagine there wouldn't have been many things to be happy about, but I think they'd still manage to carve out some happiness between them. Starrk had known very little of things like human food and clothes and games and books. Shunsui had been delighted to introduce whatever he could to him. They learned about each other, about their similarities and differences, about their strengths and weakness and hopes and fears, secrets exchanged in the dead of night in the safety of a shared office, a shared bed, a shared home. And even in the midst of a war and so much death and destruction, they managed to build something beautiful and strong, something that would've been long-lasting too under any other circumstances.

Because then Shunsui dies, a year before the true end of the war, and Starrk had perhaps not seen it coming even though there was never any real guarantee on a battlefield, but it had also been an unspoken certainty of his, something he knew the way he knew bones were breakable and blood was red and murder was easy--the day Kyouraku Shunsui dies would be the day Coyote Starrk would also fall. With any luck, Shunsui would only die over his dead body, but fortune has never favoured Starrk, and he'd figured the other way was fine too. That way, Starrk wouldn't be yet another person in a long line of people to have left Shunsui behind and alone once again, and he'd thought it would make no real difference. If Shunsui dies, Starrk would surely be minutes behind, by his own hand or otherwise.

That doesn't happen. It doesn't happen because the rest of the Gotei had gotten over any qualms they might've had about working with an Arrancar or even Aizen's former Primera Espada years ago, and besides, Starrk had already broken all the known rules and beliefs several years back by becoming a whole soul and evolving into something no one had ever seen before. He couldn't really be considered a Hollow anymore, for all that there was no other name for him either. And with all that he'd done - following Shunsui into battles and meetings and everything in-between with the kind of steadfast devotion the tide held for the moon, burning the midnight oil right alongside all the other captains and lieutenants because even a hopeless war generated paperwork and headaches as much as it did low supplies and emergency triage and lists and lists of dead, powering through enemy forces to save even just one more Shinigami with the kind of firepower rivalled only by the likes of Kurosaki Ichigo and Aizen Sousuke, and carrying the Fourth on his back by sheer force of will and a truly terrifying mind that had soaked up every medical text he'd had time to read and every medical procedure he'd had time to learn or extrapolate or straight-up invent out of fatal necessity - Starrk had long become a pillar the Gotei 13 couldn't do without, a figure at their helm as familiar and reassuring as the long unwavering shadow Kyouraku had cast. And in the devastating wake of even their Captain-Commander's death, with only a handful of captains and their squads remaining, they couldn't afford another titanic loss on its heels.

And, as Hirako had been the one to point out, all glittering ruthless eyes borne from desperation and pragmatism--Kyouraku Shunsui had protected Soul Society with his very last breath; if they were to ever meet again, would Starrk even be able to look Shunsui in the eye if he wouldn't even stick around to try and defend the place and people Shunsui had loved enough to die for?

(A year later, Mimihagi would use the exact same argument to receive the answer he needed to send the second envoy the Soul King had chosen back in time to save the world.)

(Perhaps the lesson Starrk had learnt best at Shunsui's side had been the one of duty. Or perhaps it had been the one Shunsui hadn't even meant to teach but Starrk had learnt anyway, had held closest to his heart, the one of love.

They were about the same thing in the end, when it came to what Starrk would do for Shunsui.)

Hirako had even dragged Ichigo to stand before him, Isane too, each and every last person Starrk would even nominally call a comrade and was still alive--Hirako had put them all in front of him, and then he'd asked if Starrk could really go to his grave in peace.

The bastard had gotten his way in the end, and Starrk had never come as close to hitting someone unprovoked as he had right then. He'd been left the sole survivor once again, left to soldier on alone, and some days, he has no idea how he keeps going.

(Some days, Starrk had wondered, still wonders, if Shunsui had known his death was coming, or had known what would happen should his death come to pass, so he had made… arrangements accordingly. Most days, Starrk knows it's best not to know the answer because it would probably be the one thing he would never be able to forgive Shunsui for.)

So Starrk had hung on for another year and done his best for what was left of the Shinigami, for the dwindling pockets of civilians, for Kurosaki Ichigo. Anyone with eyes could tell though, that he'd just been waiting until the war was over one way or another, until the day he could lie down and not wake up again.

Of course, as it turned out, he wasn't even allowed that much, and a lifetime later, Starrk is still alive because death just won't take him, or he just won't die.

He has zero desire to even look at TBTP!Shunsui. The first time he has to anyway and sees two eyes instead of one, it's like a knife to the gut. They're lighter too, somehow, without the void of grief and exhaustion and quiet despair bruising their depths. His gaze still holds a weight to it, he's still loved and lost before, he's still lived a thousand years with all the joys and sorrows that entails, but he hasn't lost everything, hasn't lost those dearest to him, hasn't had to pick himself up and force himself to march on anyway towards a dead-end future, and for a moment, it's like Starrk is looking at a stranger.

He thinks, randomly, bizarrely, in those first few minutes of their second first meeting, that it's a good thing he always wears gloves when he goes out.

He thinks, madly, nonsensically, that if he were to touch this Shunsui now, it would stain him black with desolation, or red with blood that would never run dry.

He thinks, abruptly, hysterically, that he'd somehow forgotten the hole Shunsui had left behind with his death, as if the past year had numbed him so thoroughly that it had frozen even his grief in its tracks, except it all comes roaring back now, an empty pit that's always been waiting for him to remember it, threatening to drown him whole. Frankly, he would welcome it if he thought it would kill him once and for all.

It's frighteningly easy to pretend nothing is wrong. Perhaps it shouldn't be. He's never been one to emote outwardly, always been good at displaying nothing but impassivity without even trying, to the point where Shunsui had remarked more than once that it was difficult to read him (and then pouted and asked what Starrk was thinking - don't leave him out, it's hurtful - and he'd always want to know even when Starrk was clearly thinking of nothing important at all).

He greets this Shunsui politely, with the courtesy an Academy student should afford a captain, he makes smalltalk as necessary, he doesn't look at anyone in particular but also doesn't avoid anyone's gaze, and then he lets himself fall silent as Ichigo draws everyone's attention again with no deliberate effort whatsoever when he blows up at something his cousin says.

It's easy to fade into the background after that, to fade into himself, retreating into his own mind with the ease of long practice. Once upon a time, he could spend years like this, buried so deep in his own head that when he surfaced and became aware again, the sand dunes would've shifted and changed, and new mountains of bones would've already formed around him.

The few times eyes turn back to him, he nods in all the right places and responds at all the right times and pretends the world hasn't become white noise in his ears.

(He'd had these episodes a few times during the war, never when there was immediate work to be done or a fight to be fought, but in their downtime, it would sneak up on him. It had never lasted more than a couple hours at a time, but he'd scared the hell out of Shunsui the first time, had found himself at the Fourth when he'd woken, but then he'd explained, and Shunsui's expression had been unreadable but his eyes had looked pained. He'd shaken his head when Starrk had said he could leave him alone or just smack him out of it, either way he'd come back sooner or later, but Shunsui had refused, and every time it had happened after that, Starrk would wake with his head pillowed against Shunsui's shoulder or chest or thigh, Shunsui's arm wrapped around him or his bulk at his back and a blanket draped around them both, warm and comfortable and never alone.)

(He is alone again now, and he doesn't understand why it's so difficult to relearn something he had known for far longer than he hadn't.)

He's here to check Fujiwara's Hohou - Shunsui's cousin, Shunsui never mentioned her, she must've died long ago in the future - so he does that when he's cued and works her through the problem and suggests a few exercises, and that's that. He practically sleepwalks through the rest of this little gathering, barely manages to feel vaguely relieved when it looks like they can all finally part ways, and hazily wonders if he can get away with booting Ichigo back to his own room for the night. He's pretty sure he's going to end up scaring the kid if he falls even further into his own mind.

Then Shiba Kaien does him a favour out of the blue, nagging Ichigo until the kid snaps and irritably agrees to spend the night at his family's compound. Distantly, Starrk is aware of being invited as well, but that's easy enough to refuse, citing an exam in the morning - or maybe he says assignment due, he's not sure - and the Clan Head says next time then, and- and-

He blinks and it's time to go. Nothing seems amiss so he inclines his head at the captains and lieutenant, bids Ichigo and Fujiwara farewell, and then takes his leave in a flash of Shunpou.

Starrk has seconds to feel nebulously pleased with himself, another second to remind himself to avoid the Eighth like the plague from here on out, and then even that's gone as he locks himself in his room, and the rest of the night is lost. He is more than happy to lose it.

He'd had exactly zero presence of mind to catch the way Kyouraku Shunsui had been staring - if discreetly - at him the entire time, from under his hat or out of the corner of his eye, and by the end of the entire encounter, the man had even shaken his kimono over his hands to hide the way they'd slowly curled into white-knuckled fists.

Shunsui doesn't know how no one else had felt it, bleeding into the air like a severed artery--a bottomless chasm of loneliness and grief that had felt like it should've been screaming with the agony of it, except there'd only been the deafening silence of barren wastelands, an emptiness reflected in Starrk’s perfectly blank eyes and perfectly sculpted non-expression, and Shunsui doesn't understand why he alone had evidently just taken a metaphorical dive straight into the man's very soul.

(Starrk would've, if he'd noticed. After all, a lifetime ago, Kyoukotsu had loved bringing his wolves back to her soulscape to play with, and Katen had often visited his soulscape in turn for tea and conversation. His and Shunsui's souls had long learned to recognize each other, mingling in a way that had transcended all possible boundaries, and in the face of that, what did a little thing like time and space matter?)

When Starrk had left, Shunsui had almost followed, had wanted to with an instinctual sort of urgency he couldn't even explain to himself, let alone anyone else. Several times, he'd almost reached out while the others were talking, to provide comfort perhaps, or to take some of the pain even, and it had only been the equally intuitive certainty that doing so would break something in Starrk that had ultimately stopped him each time.

"Kyouraku, is something wrong?" Ukitake asks once the others are all gone, because of course his best friend had noticed something off with Shunsui, even if not with Starrk.

Shunsui reaches up and tugs on the brim of his hat and doesn't know how to explain that wrong could not even begin to cover whatever the hell had just happened.

His insides are still shuddering like they've been ripped out very slowly. He still wants to run all the way to the Academy this instant. And he feels-

He feels inexplicably like he's lost something beloved and doesn't know if he'll ever get it back.

[laviechuchu]

Omfgffggff I js found u through the nerd guy fic and I'm obsessed!!!

Ik we are all not so sane here so,,,

If I can request a silly rebellious reader and stepdad punishing the reader for hanging out with good for nothing guy friends with skimpy outfits

:3 Thanks!!! ( You don't need to do ... this is straight up crazy ik lol )

Author’s note: AHH HELLOOO IM SO HAPPY!!! AND OFC SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT!

Content below: use of y/n, AFAB reader, brat taming, punishment, use of nicknames such as babygirl, pet, cheating?, stepcest, minor writing smut, bratty reader, cigars, reader is 18+, dubcon.

Proceed to read..

“Ugh i told you, pick me up tomorrow. My stepdad is coming and i wanna act long enough so i can take some money from him. Then you and cain and me can have some fun! You bring the alcohol!” You giggle as you lay down in your very pink and girly room. The teddy bear your stepfather gave you for your birthday just slumping onto your pillows

You giggle as your best friend starts to ramble about how fun tomorrow will be and starts to ask the real questions “your stepdad is hot! Not gonna lie, i mean! Hes a silver fox!” She squeals as you gag “yuck no! Live with him for a day and you’ll see how controlling and bossy he is” you mumble.

The laptop was still on video call as you roll around on your bed. You sigh as suddenly you hear a doorbell “shit! Be right back!” You yell and slam your laptop closed.

Your feet scramble to the door and open the wood separating you and your money machine.

“Daddy! Welcome home” you giggle and hug him. Ugh disgusting…he smells like his cologne and smoke. He looks at you with disinterest and lets out a low hum. His eyes looking at your perked nipples from your lack of bra.

“Have you been studying? As i told you? I gave you two weeks” he says, pulling away from the hug. What the fuck? Does he have a stick up his ass or something?

Oh yeah about that “ah… yup!” You say with a lopsided grin, batting your eyelashes at the older man. He seems to see right through you but you dont really care, all you need is a few hours and his money and then you can meet your friends-

“Yeah? Ill be testing you tonight.” He says bluntly and starts to head to the kitchen to get dinner for himself.

“Well… im heading out cain and nicole” you say, a little more happily then you mean to. He takes out a cigar and looks at you dead in the eyes. “No.” He states bluntly “wearing a skirt that short? Thigh highs? And what is this..” he comes closer to you your chest almost just almost reaching his. He pinches at your left nipple “a flimsy piece of cloth, that you little ones call a top.”

You yelp and cover your chest “why the hell were you looking?”

“Im your father, and you are not going out like that, with your so called boyfriend who only wants you for your body” he states. Grabbing the back of your top like a cat would.

He goes to his office and throws you on the chair and locks the door

“Question one, look at the fucking paper. A, B, C or D?” He loosens his tie and undoes his pants. Sitting you on his lap “the faster you finish the faster ill let you go” he says putting his cigar down.

“Fuck! I dont know? B?” You say, you feel something warm against your cunt. You unconsciously grind on the feeling “bad girl” he says as he pulls your panties aside and shoves the tip inside. You feel the slight burn and you tear up. Sick motherfucker is gonna rape you?

He grabs your waist and shoves everything inside in one go. No lube no nothing. Just raw fucking cock.

You yell and cry “fuck you! You sick piece of shit” you attempt to get off his lap when he pushes you on your chest. His heavy balls against your clit.

“Its okay babygirl.. you dont need to use your smooth brain anymore” he whispers in your ear. Slowly moving in and out of you “you can be my personal pet from now on” his fingers gently rubbing circles on your clit. You moan gently, your eyes tearing up at the smell of your stepdad the one you used to love but now.. you’re not sure anymore

“Daddy…d-daddy” you mumble dumbly, his cock slipping in and out of you. Your feet barely touch the floor “im sorry baby, this is your punishment” he says before his pace becomes faster and faster. You squeal and try to hold on to him. Your pussy squelches and pulses. Your ass connecting to his hips.

“D-daddy!” You cry. The swirls on your clit becoming faster yet precise “becoming a dumb little girl already? Poor thing… must have been so pent up” he coos, your brain is turning into mush as your legs shake from the pounding. Your cunny fluttering around him, be groans “ah fuck…”

His hand that was once on your clit, now on your nipple. Tweaking them just painful enough for you to keep your sanity in check. “Need a new piercing on your nipples now. Maybe my initials?” He teases.

“I-im gonna cum” you manage to mumble out. The wet skin slapping is making your brain fuzzy “daddy.. i need your cum” you say your tongue lolling out, awaiting his tongue.

He smirks at your now dumb form and gives a few more thrusts but pulls out at the last second.

“Maybe after you get the questions right” he says his gentle smile making you feel warmer.

(SORRY THIS IS BAD ILL WORK ON IT BETTER SOON ENOUGH, I WAS MEANT TO PUT THIS IS DRAFTS BUT ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT)

[kinardsevan]

several sentence sunday

I was tagged by @perfectlysunny02. Could drop y'all some EB, but I'm trying to actually get that chapter finished tonight, so instead I'll give you the fic I came home and just had to start, tentatively titled words never said in a story that didn't end, roughly based around an assumed 811.

-

“You know we’ve been at this for weeks,” Chandler comments as he leans back on his bed. “And I still don’t even know where you live, Evan.” 

“Buck,” he counters, tugging his shirt over his head. “Everyone calls me Buck.” He can’t stand the sound of his name out of anyone else’s mouth now. “A-and that’s not important, is it? I mean, like you said, it’s only been weeks.” 

Chandler leans forward on the bed, narrowing his gaze at Buck. “Sure. Except you’ve been here eight times now. Which almost makes it feel like you don’t want me to know where you live.” The man stares at him as he grabs his jeans from he floor and starts pulling them on. “Unless it’s not about the place, but who you’ve brought there.” 

Buck still doesn’t speak, keeping his focus on his jeans as he pulls them up his legs. 

“Well God-damn, Evan,” Chandler comments, fully sitting up now. “Kinda hard to put up a fight against a ghost that I didn’t even know exists.” 

“Buck,” he states again, bordering on a growl. “A-and he’s not a ghost, he’s-..” 

“He clearly hurt you,” Chandler replies, reeling slightly, but keeping his voice calm. “But… I mean, didn’t you say when we met that he broke up with you?” 

Buck huffs as he buttons and zips his jeans, tugs the hem of his shirt down. “I didn’t- a- w-what does that have to do with this? It has nothing to do with me protecting my privacy-..” 

“Well it certainly feels like it does,” Chandler counters, although he’s calmer than Buck is. “I mean why hang on to something that’s clearly over if you’re actually trying to move on? He obviously doesn’t give a fuck.” 

“No one ever said- and where the hell do you- I mean what the fuck-..” He keeps stammering through half-finished statements, unsure of which one to say first because they’re all driving toward the same point that whatever he’s had going on with Chandler is clearly over. 

“It’s not about what you did or didn’t say,” Chandler responds. “Man walks out on you after, you said, what? Six months?” 

“H-he has trauma!” Buck argues. “A-and-..” 

“Holy shit,” Chandler mutters, his eyes growing wide. “Okay. Maybe you need a reeducation in learning how to move on .” 

“I don’t need move on, I’m in love with him!” He yells the statement back at Chandler before he fully even processes the words coming out of his mouth, but for the next ten seconds, he’s stuck in that position, introspecting at the statement and realizing he meant it. His shoulders sink as the anger ebbs out of him and he looks back over at Chandler sorrowfully. “I’m in love with him,” he whispers. 

Chandler takes a deep breath and sighs, shrugging as he leans back on his hands, tilting his head at Buck. 

“Then maybe you should do something about that,” he comments. “Something that doesn’t involve anyone else.” 

Buck glances over at him, a little shocked that the guy he’s been sleeping with for the past few weeks would tell him to go after Tommy, especially when all of his loved ones have been telling him for months to just move on. 

“All I’m saying is if he doesn’t know, maybe you should tell him,” Chandler says quietly. “Or don’t listen to me. Keep listening to what you said your family told you. It’s gotten you this far.” 

[rapidhighway]

also picking raspberries turned out to be.. really fucking hard

[fragglerockopinions]

.

[bean-pronounced-bawn]

I have leftovers. I ate out for lunch. I want to order food for dinner

[slippery-minghus]

...

[pigeonclaw]

Finally got a hold of Star and started reading it and I can't say I'm surprised (given that this became very obvious in Wind), but I am disappointed with the direction they've taken Splashtail.

The reason he interested me in the start of ASC was because he seemed like someone totally disillusioned with the way Clans are running as a result of growing up during AVoS and TBC — AVoS being a time when RiverClan got conquered by rogues, and TBC being a time when everything kinda fell apart for everybody thanks to a StarClan cat running amok (and in both of these arcs Mistystar was terrible at working together with other Clans and actively added more problems to the pile).

Then he became a part of Curlfeather's plot to change things, agreed with her motivations but was disturbed by her still being willing to get power from StarClan, and decided to do things his way instead. If RiverClan has to stop relying on StarClan, then, in his mind, they needed to stop now. No more nine life ceremonies. Curlfeather became a threat in his eyes, so he got rid of her. And he had to scramble to keep things going his way afterward.

That was intriguing. It made Splashtail feel like someone with genuine beliefs and values and strong conviction, someone who believes he's doing the right thing even if he knows he has to get his paws dirty and cause a lot of harm to get it done.

Why they threw all that out just to make him another typical power-hungry dictator who wants to conquer all the Clans — something that's been done over and over and over already — I have no idea. He's even less believable than others of this type. RiverClan has no reason to follow him any more than they did Darktail. In fact, I find it hard to imagine that anyone who lived through Darktail's reign wouldn't start rioting as soon as they got a new leader who murders his warriors and threatens kits. It's bonkers.

That said, I'm enjoying the level of drama in the book so far. Splashtail fully a bad a boring character for me now, which is a shame, but there's more to enjoy and I'm here for it.

[upperranktwo]

Good morning!!!!! Hope today is good for you all 🫶💙

[fxckinemo]

ughhhh

[sugume]

r/ATIA for WHAT!? w/Jujutsu Kaisen  

More: Fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, dubcon, piss kink, necrophilia, manhandling, choking, coercion, teacher x student, power dynamics, blackmail, threesome, Cuck!Gojo, drinking. unedited

Featuring: Nanami Kento, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Gojo Satoru

PART 2

r/fuckingmystudent posted by u/Nanami_Kento 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you try to recall the events that lead you to get your brains fucked by your professor. He caught you filming a video for your Onlyfans in his class. So, he took your phone and asked you to meet him in his office after class. There, he forced you to unlock your phone and show him what exactly you were recording. It was utterly humiliating and watching him, watch you, finger yourself with a pen underneath the desk. After, he’d told you that he’d tell the dean you were getting off on his voice lecturing you unless you did something for him.  Which led you ass up on his desk, trying your hardest not to make a peep as his fat cock slammed in and out of you. “Now, what I'm going to do is take out my cell,” He grunts, rolling his hips deep into you. “And record you slamming your ass onto my cock so if you decide to open that sweet mouth of yours, I'll have no choice but to send this video to mommy and daddy back at home, understand?” You nod, tears forming in your eyes from the threat or incoming orgasm, probably both. “Say ‘Yes, Professor!’ and maybe I'll send you the video so you can post it and feed yourself this week.” 

r/peeinginher posted by u/choso_Kamo 

Ankles beside your head, Choso had you folded in half as he pounded into your swollen cunt. He’d been going for what felt like hours and you were about to reach another peak when he abruptly stopped. “Choso?” you rasp, voice raw from screaming. “What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, staring up at him as he stares down at your glistening cunt. He just tilts his head and continues to stare. You’re about to ask again when he blinks from whatever trance he is in and starts thrusting in and out, slower this time. “Nothin’ baby, jus’ gotta piss.” “T-then stop and go, hm–” you gasp when he pushes your legs down further. “Stop and go to the bathroom Cho.” you try to pull his hands off your calves. Choso tightens his hold and grins down at you. “C-Choso?” “Why would I get up when I have a perfectly capable toilet right here.” Is all you hear before you suddenly feel a foreign warmth in your cunt followed by wetness trickling out your pussy.  

r/askinghertoplaydead posted by u/Ryomen_Sukuna 

“You wan’ me to do what?” You ask, staring up at him from your position between his legs. “I asked you to stop suckin’ my cock and hang off the bed like a drugged-up bitch on her last life.” He stares at you with a look that tells you he isn’t truly asking. “B-but ‘Kuna—” He grabs your throat. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, hm?” You grab the hand around your neck. “Mhm.” “This ‘ll make me happy, little girl,” He plants a firm kiss on your lips. “Now do as I told you, actually I’ll do it, I know you aren’t the best at following orders.” He says before pushing you back like a ragdoll. “Yes, now lay there, don’t move, don’t speak.” Sukuna reiterates, finally satisfied with your position, naked on your stomach with your head hanging off the bed. He wastes no time shoving his big cock into your cunt. You groan from the sudden intrusion “Kuna!” “Shut up, dead bitches don’t fuckin’ make sounds.”  

r/forcinga3some posted by u/Gojo_Satoru 

“Sit on his cock love,” Gojo demands, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you onto Suguru’s lap. “S-Satoru!” “’ Toru!” You and Geto screech at the same time. “C’mon guys, it’s fine I don’t mind, Loosen up!” Gojo looks at you on his best friend's lap and his cock twitching underneath his pants. He palms it. Don’t worry, we’ll have our turn. “I know you two want to fuck, c'mon! Do I really have to pull it out and shove it up your tight cunt?” Goji grits out, increasingly frustrated when the two of you stare at him like a pair of deer in headlights. “Baby, I-it was just a truth or dare question!” Your head aches and you put both of your hands on Suguru’s broad shoulders to stable yourself, trying and failing to ignore his hard under your panty-covered pussy. “Was it? So, you aren’t wet right now? And you Suguru? You aren't rock fucking hard at the thought of fucking the same pussy I cum in every night?” Gojo raises his eyebrow holding eye contact with you until you look away, face flushed. Suguru sighs, throwing his head back with murmured ‘fuck this.’ before grabbing your waist. “Yes! That’s what I thought. Ha!” Gojo laughs, watching as Suguru starts grinding you down on his bulge.  

[watercolor-hearts]

.

[whimsyfinny]

Sexy F*cking Nerd

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean discovers a little secret of (Y/n)'s during a case research session he can't help but let temptation get the best of him.

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, Oral (M receiving), slight angst if you squint, Dean having a glasses kink (not really a warning but not everyone wears them hahaha lucky bastards)

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 5688

A/N: It's taken a little while but here is the second competition winner from a few weeks back, the prompt provided by the wonderful @foxyjwls007 - I hope you like it!

The motel room was stuffy to say the least - that usual aroma of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener lingering around us. There was a dripping sound coming from God knows where and the AC hummed in between the concerning clinking from deep within the vents. It was crap. So crap. But it was home for a few nights; just like all the motel rooms that came before. Dean stepped past me and over the threshold, immediately slinging his duffle and jacket onto his chosen bed. He stretched his arms above his head, the grey Henley clutching his muscular abdomen and rising enough to flaunt what lay beneath. I sighed, following him in and slumping onto the bed beside his - the musty stench from the sheets enveloping me.

“Well…” Dean started, pulling Sam's laptop out of his bag and placing it on the small table by the window.

“Well…?” My voice echoed as I focused on the ceiling fan that spun off centre.

“...This is… nice?” His statement was more of a question as he looked around with raised eyebrows. I propped myself up on my elbows, flashing him a look of speculation.

“Seriously?” A moment passed before he huffed a long-held breath and slapped his large palms on his thighs.

“No of course not, this place sucks more dick than a hooker on payday.”

“You got that right,” I flopped back down onto the bed, a small dust cloud erupting under my weight. I closed my eyes and listened as Dean pulled a chair out from under the table, slumping down into it. Then there was the familiar click of the laptop opening followed by the sound of stuttered not-quite-touch-typing, presumably he was starting work on the case that we’d come here to investigate. The tap tap tap of whatever was leaking began to drill into my brain, my patience already wearing thin with the rooms dire ambiance. I pulled myself up to sitting, criss-crossing my legs on the bed and brushing whatever that dust from the bedding was off my sweater sleeves.

“When's Sam back?” I asked, watching as Dean searched the keyboard in front of him for some long lost letter.

“Uuuh, I'm not sure. He said to work this case without him.”

“Ugghhh, I bet he's having way more fun than us right now, it's not fair,” I plopped my chin into my palm and stared past the older Winchester out the window, almost willing Sam to appear and walk in like any other day.

“It's just some dumb wedding, I doubt he's having that much fun.”

I scoffed before I could stop myself, Dean breaking eye contact with the screen to throw me a raised eyebrow.

“Look,” I collected myself, “you didn't know Sam in college. He won't admit it but he was popular. Really popular. Not the total nerd you think he is. He's absolutely having fun with these people.”

“Yeah right. So who's at this wedding anyway? Why was it so important that he just had to be there?”

I rolled my eyes, knowing full well Sam had already told him all the details. Typical Dean.

“It's for a couple of friends who he and Jess were close with back then. Pretty sure the bride was prom queen in highschool or something and the groom was a trust fund jock. Either way, not my crowd,” I sighed slightly, memories from my college days flooding my mind.

Deans eyebrows twitched into a small frown, his thoughts seeming to cloud his vision for a second before he reluctantly dismissed them. I looked down into my lap for a moment, reminiscing how I always kept my distance from Sam whilst at Stanford, but he had always been that boy that would make my heart flutter when he spoke up in class or when I'd see him on the quad with his friends. I remember seeing him with his nose in a book once at my usual desk in the library, my cheeks burning when he caught me staring. Who would've thought several years down the line I'd be sat in a bottom-rung motel room with his obscenely good looking older brother researching monster lore. At least we would be researching monster lore, if it wasn't for the small growl my empty stomach had gurgled out. I couldn't stop the small pulse of embarrassment burning into my cheeks as Dean eyed me with a grin.

“Wanna get some lunch?” He asked, standing up like he already knew my answer.

“Fuck yes. I'm feeling burgers,” I shuffled to the edge of the bed and stood up, watching as Dean shrugged on his leather jacket and headed to the door, holding it open for me.

“Now you're speaking my language.”

*

The diner was almost as sad and withered as the motel room, however the food was nothing short of spectacular. I watched in awe as Dean polished off his second burger, a small glob of sauce sticking to his stubble and threatening to drip off his chin. He must've felt me watching in wonder - or perhaps disgust - as when he looked up from his plate he shot me a questioning glance.

“What?” His tone was a little defensive through the mouthful of fries he'd just shovelled in. I took a second before asking, half-genuine:

“Where do you put all of that?”

“Put what?”

“The food - where does it go? Do you have hollow legs? Two stomachs? Does it just evaporate as soon as you swallow it?”

He grinned, wiping the sauce from his face with a napkin.

“Goes straight to the abs baby. It's muscle fuel,” he leant back in his chair, stretching a little before patting his stomach to punctuate his statement. I simply rolled my eyes.

“Yeah right, you're not that muscly Dean.”

“How would you know? You've never seen me with my shirt off.”

“I know, and I plan to keep it that way.”

He feigned a pout before returning to his fries. We ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, my mind absently going back to all the lore we should be trying to gather. I gripped my milkshake that had so generously been served in a thin paper cup, attempting to suck the practically solid beverage up the equally thin paper straw. Finding the nearest library would be the next task on our to-do list, despite the protesting I know I'll get from Dean.

“Hey, (Y/n)?” My train of thought was derailed at the sound of my name. The slurping of over-thickened milkshake from myself ceased.

“What's up?”

“What were you like in college?”

I eyed him with caution, wondering what part of his brain was in control right now.

“What do you wanna know?”

Catching the wariness to divulge him to such information, he smiled slightly, shrugging his shoulders.

“I'm not asking to be weird, I just-” he paused, choosing his next words tactfully, “the way you described Sam as being a totally different person - some hot-shot with the perfect grades, popular friends and a girlfriend like Jess - it just got me thinking. How would Sam have described you?”

I almost spat my dairy-goop back into the straw, my brain freezing.

“Dean,” I started before planning what I was going to say, placing my cup on the table. “Sam wouldn't be able to describe me.”

My words brought a small smirk to his lips.

“You were that hot, huh?”

“What the fuck- no- I wasn't- he didn't- Sam never- ” I stopped myself before I had an aneurysm and took a deep breath.

“I was in a totally different crowd to Sam. He was always surrounded by people and, well, I barely even had a crowd.”

“Lone wolf?”

“Bingo. But definitely not the cool, collected, stoic type. Think more, invisible to the public eye, always carrying books, and borderline selective mute because of how shy I was.”

“Oh… what changed?,” Deans tone changed entirely, genuine intrigue seeming to take the wheel. I couldn't help but laugh slightly, remembering my method to forcing myself out of my bubble.

“The only job I could get was in a bar. No one else wanted the hours and I desperately needed cash. I didn't really have a choice after that,” I paused, remembering how terrified I was on my first day and grinned slightly, grateful for the extra confidence I had now because I took that leap.

“Hey, what sort of crowd do you think I would've been in?”

I snorted, looking up into his expectant eyes - almost captivated by the glistening greens.

“What am I? A BuzzFeed quiz? I have no idea Dean, you're too much of a wildcard to predict. You probably would've fit in with anyone and everyone.”

“Even you?”

For reasons unbeknownst to even myself, my breath caught in my throat. The sudden soft sincerity of his voice contradicting his usual temperament, my heart starting to flutter in my chest. If the college version of myself had met Dean back then I just know I would have been enthralled at first glance.

“I don't think you would've noticed me. You would've been surrounded by every tall, thin blonde and brunette with perfect tits. Trust me, you would've been distracted,” I smiled an almost sad smile at the thought of him simply being on university grounds and having the time of his life - knowing it was something that he was never going to get the chance to experience in this upside down life of his. Of ours. He tapped his fingers on the table for a second, likely lost in some ludicrous thought I don't think I'd want to be privy to. I attempted another slurp of my milkshake when the paper straw gave out and flopped in half, the need to leave conversation and the diner suddenly looming over me.

“Come on, let's get to the library before it closes,” I stood and pulled my oversized sweater down so it covered my ass before reaching for my backpack. Just as my fingers touched the worn fabric of the strap it was torn away, my head snapping up to Dean who flung it over one shoulder with his signature grin on his face.

“Lead the way nerd.”

I couldn't help but beam at his playfulness. I hated the fact that he made it so easy to adore him. Hated that he completely overlooked how I was his total opposite in almost every way. How when we were talking, his eyes never left mine - how he was genuinely interested in what I was like in the past. And how, when I had his attention, he didn't even notice that the hot waitress had written her number on a napkin and left it next to him.

*

The trip to the library was about as eventful as it sounded. After checking out multiple books on cursed items, local lore and popular antiques from the seventies, we loaded ourselves back into the impala, made an all-important beer run before heading back to the motel.

The small table by the window was now totally smothered by a blanket of books, maps and empty beer bottles. Deans chin rested in his palms as he stared blankly at the screen in front of him, and I must've read the last sentence of the paragraph laid before me a dozen times without it even sinking in. The obnoxious dripping and humming of ancient appliances was starting to make me feel restless.

“It has to be the boots,” Dean groaned, draining the last of his beer.

“Either the boots or the disco ball. But my money is on boots as well,” I sighed, pushing the book away from me and standing slowly, gathering the quickly accumulating litter now scattered around us.

“I'm gonna make some coffee, my brain is fried over how fucking ridiculous this case is,” I ditched the trash in the bin before filling the coffee machine, listening to it whir to life whilst I headed to my bed. I could feel Deans gaze on my back as I rummaged around my bag in search of a specific item.

“What are you looking fo-” he'd started to ask the question but his voice died in his throat when I turned around. I quickly pushed my newly adorned glasses up the bridge of my nose, already feeling the oversized frame start to slip down as I tried not to make a big deal over them.

“What?” My tone was a fraction off aggressive when I realised he was staring. He seemed to snap out of his daze, quickly rubbing the back of his neck and turning back to the laptop screen. He cleared his throat

“I uh, I didn't know you wore glasses,” I could tell from the slight tremble in his voice that his mind was reeling.

“Is there a problem with that?”

“No! I mean, no, absolutely not. They look good. The glasses, I mean. The glasses look good. Not on their own, obviously. On your face. They look good on your face. You have a great fa-”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.”

I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and set it on the counter, filling it to the brim with caffeinated goodness. I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my lips at Deans fumbling, almost finding the whole ordeal a little charming. I sat back down at the table and pulled the books back towards me, also grabbing my pen and tattered notebook.

“The guests at the club mentioned hearing footsteps - so it has to be the boots, right? A disco ball wouldn't make that sound…” my voice trailed off when I realised that, even though Dean was looking at me, he wasn't listening to a word I was saying.

“Earth to Dean?”

He flinched slightly at his name, but felt no shame delving in with a completely off-topic question.

“So how long have you worn glasses?”

“I’ve always worn them,” I slid back into my chair at the table opposite him, not sure whether to laugh at the shocked expression on his face or whether to be concerned about his observation skills.

“What?! No way, I would’ve noticed,” He opened another beer and took a sip before tracing the opening to the bottle over his bottom lip.

“ I only wear them for concentration work, and I have emergency contact lenses if I know I’m going to be around a lot of people as I don’t particularly like how they look.”

Dean made a small disagreeable expression before averting his gaze from mine back to the laptop, taking another swig of his beer. I placed my coffee mug down and settled back into the book I was reading before, and after a few moments I could feel my skin begin to prickle - as though I could feel a pair of eyes on me. I glanced up, my breath immediately catching in my throat. Deans eyes found mine, burning with an intensity that made my heart hammer in my chest. I didn’t want to look away, but under his gaze I felt like I’d been stripped bare, unable to hide my insecurities from an eye that seemed to scorch through to my very core.

“Dean-”

“(Y/n), you should really have more confidence in yourself; I think the glasses look cute as fuck. You should wear them more,” a fierce blush erupted across my face when he spoke, his assured tone leaving no room for disagreement. I tried desperately not to let on that his words held any sort of impact over my decisions so I looked down, away from his scrutiny and simply said:

“Maybe I will.”

He hummed in approval, finally looking elsewhere and I couldn’t stop myself from breathing a sigh of relief when the pressure of his stare was averted.

The evening dragged on and an hour and a half had passed since his loaded comment. I was on the third book we’d checked out of the library, now trying desperately to find the curse that would cause a pair of 1970s glam rock boots to dance for eternity and haunt anyone who tried to wear them. This case was absurd, and I could feel myself growing restless with the small amount of progress we’d made. I huffed out a sigh and leant back in my chair, the faux leather and rusted metal creaking under my weight. Pulling the hair bobble from around my wrist I scooped my hair into a bundle on the top of my head, securing it in place; the sensation of air on my neck seemed to clear some of the fog from my brain. The messy bun was comfortably enough that I could forget it was there, and I allowed myself a stretch before leaning back over the table, grasping my pen. As I began to read the next segment, I absently traced the end of the pen over my bottom lip, running it back and forth a few times before gently nibbling on the end. I heard the shuffling of Dean moving in his seat and a ragged clearing of his throat before the sound of vigorous laptop keys clicking ensued. Without looking up at him I continued reading, the pen still tapping my bottom lip, and when I neared the bottom of the paragraph, I slowly licked the pad of my index finger. My eyes never leaving the words, I turned the page swiftly with my dampened digit, the transition from one page to the next perfectly seamless. Another shuffle from the man opposite followed by a quiet groan filled the silence between us. Pen still between my teeth, I lifted only my eyes to glance at him and noted the dusting of pink across his cheeks and the furrow in his brow. Concluding that he’d had one too many beers I decided to ignore his persistent fidgeting, returning to my previous task on monotonous reading. Several sentences in and I’d almost forgotten Deans restlessness - that was until I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, deep in thought, that I earned myself a throaty groan and an exasperated sigh. I looked up just in time to watch him wipe a large hand down his face, momentarily masking his pained expression.

“Can you not do that? I can’t concentrate when you do that.”

“Do what?” Upon asking my question I absently took the pen between my teeth again, quickly glancing down at the book to place a mental bookmark.

“That.”

“What?”

“That. That thing you do with our mouth, and the pen, and your tongue and your finger. Can you please stop before it kills me.”

The heat beneath my skin was immediate at his admission, knowing my small, absent-minded actions were playing on his mind and making it hard for him to think straight. I instinctively crossed my legs, a fluttering in my lower belly instantly dragging my mind back to the deprived things I’d imagined Dean doing to me in the depths of night. The places I’d imagined his hands travelling, the areas his lips would touch and the sensations his tongue could create. These were deeply, deeply personal fantasies, and right now as Dean looked at me with a restrained hunger, I felt like I was wearing these fantasies for the world to see. For Dean to see.

“It doesn’t help that you’ve been sat over there like a sexy fucking librarian all evening, but every time you do that anything with that mouth - shit, sweetheart you’re driving me insane.” His voice was gravelly as he looked at me with desperate eyes across the table. The overly rational part of my brain had shut down completely, and now the part of my mind that had spent hours conjuring vivid scenes of Dean Winchester ravishing me in my entirety had taken the charge. I stood slowly, taking a moment to reason with myself - unsuccessfully of course - before sinking to my knees in front of my chair. I could see Deans strong thighs were spread wide beneath the table so I crawled forwards, across the cold tiles and placed myself between his legs. Resting my palms softly on his thighs I made him flinch at the unexpected contact. He immediately scooted his chair back, allowing a gap for me to poke my head through - his hand instantly acting as a barrier between the edge of the table and my skull. I got comfortable and allowed myself a moment to gaze up at him, to take in the strained furrow in his brow and the parting of his lips. I observed the way his chest rose and fell in apprehensive breaths, and the way his free hand clenched into a fist on his thigh - like he was so desperate yet so scared to touch me.

“(Y/n)-”

“Dean,” I spoke softly, slowly running my hands up his thighs - delicate palms against rough denim, “you’re a smart boy - you know I wouldn’t do something I didn’t want to do. So please, don’t say I don’t have to do this.”

Dean released a shaky breath the moment my fingers unclasped his jeans. I tugged them down slightly with his help, just enough so I could dip my hand into his boxers and wrap my fingers around his half-hard length. The moment my skin touched his, his head lolled back and his eyes fluttered closed with a breathy moan on his lips.

“Fuck…”

I gently pulled him from his confines, coming face to face with the cock I’d literally dreamt of again and again. I took the scene in, committing to memory the sharp outline of his jaw and the way his long lashes rested on his lightly-freckled cheeks. The way that, every time he breathed in, I could see his defined muscle tone through the thin fabric of his shirt; and with every small caress that my fingers made against his length, it made his fingers twitch and teeth clench. I licked my lips before leaning in and took his tip into my mouth, not giving him a chance to finish sucking in air through his teeth before I plunged his entire length down my throat. 

“Oh FUCK.”

His hands flew to my hair, fingers gripping tight as they loosened strands from the messy bun, causing them to fall around my face. He’d lifted his head to look down at me, pupils blown as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked nothing more than enthralled. Infatuated. Entranced. I moved my head up and down, up and down, again and again to a steady rhythm, pressing my tongue to the underside of his now rock-hard cock to trace every vein and nerve-ending.

“Shit, (Y/n), I didn’t know you could suck cock, like, at all… how’re you s’fuckin’ good…” his voice was breathless as he continued to grip my hair, his head flopping to the side as pleasure started to overcome his senses. I released him with a small ‘pop’, wrapping my fingers around him and smearing the warm mixture of saliva and precum from tip to base.

“Despite everything I told you earlier, Dean, I’m not a virgin - and this certainly isn’t my first rodeo,” my voice came out more sultry than I’d expected and I could feel Dean tremble beneath my palms.

“Fuck, I wish I’d known that sooner,” I chewed on my bottom lip, quickly becoming addicted to the way he writhed at my touch. The way he moaned and gripped my hair tighter when I sucked him back into my mouth was like pure ecstasy, my insides heating up and throbbing with an ache of familiar arousal. Like a thirst that could only be satisfied by him. By tasting him, feeling him on my tongue and drinking in every sound that passed his plush parted lips. The sensation of my glasses slipping down my nose as I sped up my ministrations had me reaching to push them back up, but not before Dean beat me to it. With the rough pad of his thumb he pushed on the plastic bridge, his palm and fingers pressed to my flushed cheek in the most tender, almost heart wrenching caress. I thought my heart might stop when he tilted my face up to his; lustful eyes burning into mine with a vehemence I’d never encountered. I stopped in my tracks, all actions ceased as the spell he’d somehow put me under wouldn’t let me look away. 

“If you keep going like that darlin’ this whole thing is gonna be over before you know it,” his voice was raspy, a rawness to it from the harsh breaths and ragged moans that had been pulled from his throat. He slowly pulled his cock from my spit-slick lips and grasped it loosely, giving himself a few lazy pumps whilst his other hand never left my face. He stared down at me, taking a few moments as though he was committing the sight of me, knelt between his knees with flushed cheeks and swollen lips to memory. Once it seemed that memory was locked away in the depths of his mind, he grasped me by the arm and pulled me effortlessly into his lap, his fingers almost bruising against my skin. Immediately I felt him, in his entirety, press against me with the heat and wetness seeping through my jeans and past my panties. This time when our eyes met, there was a mutual desperation; a need to consume each other and to feel every inch of his heated skin against mine. He pulled me frantically down to him and crashed his lips against mine. 

Some people describe their first kiss with someone like butterflies in their stomach, or fireworks exploding all around them. That wasn’t at all what this was like. Kissing Dean Winchester was different - it was wild and untamed - and describing this experience in such a mundane way would be like adding water to a top-shelf whiskey. Kissing Dean Winchester was like driving the impala at one thirty with the roar of the engine drowning out the rest of the world. It was like trying to ride a wild mustang without a saddle, or daring to stand on the highest peak on Earth with nothing to tie you down. It was exhilarating in the most dangerous way imaginable - and I was now officially a thrill seeker. 

The warm taste of the beer on his tongue and the masculine scent of old leather and cologne was pulling me under. Breathing no longer mattered as long as his mouth was on mine and his fingers were in my hair, now tugging the bobble out and throwing it to the floor. As my hair tumbled free he grabbed under my thighs and stood effortlessly, moving me from his lap to the edge of the table without his lips leaving mine. I winced slightly as the corners and several books and the laptop jabbed into my rear and I fumbled to move everything aside, failing when I refused to unlock our lips. Deans patience was non-existent and with one sweep of his strong arm everything tumbled to the floor - including the laptop. I threw the remaining books from underneath me down to join them, no longer caring for their wellbeing. Before I could pull Dean back in - to allow him to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to me - he hastily pulled off my boots and tugged down my jeans, throwing every item to the growing pile of chaos beside us. I discarded my sweater and top, but before I let his fingers touch my bra I wanted nothing more than to return the favour. 

“I guess you can forget about that whole ‘never seeing me shirtless’ thing, huh?” he smirked through the sexual fog, not waiting for a reply as his lips hungrily found mine again, his own top falling to the floor. 

“Shut up Winchester. Now are you gonna fuck me or wh- OH FUCK-”

Two thick fingers crept under my panties and plunged into me with zero hesitation, curling up and stroking the sensual cushion deep within my core with skillful precision. 

“Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you?” Even with my face now buried in the crook of his neck, I could hear the smirk in his voice, the tormenting tone going straight to my brain.

“Y-yes- fuck- please,” my knees twitched either side of him, squeezing at his hips with every push of his fingers. I gripped his shoulders tight, nails indenting his skin as I leant back to look at him better. Seeing the beads of sweat on his chest and brow alongside the raw, carnal desire in his eyes could have undone me there and then. He frowned in disapproval when I moved to remove my glasses, the fingers that were just inside me now wrapped forcefully around my wrist.

“What d’ya think you’re doing?” straight away I knew his growling question left no room for negotiation.

“I was just-”

“The glasses stay on.”

“To the end?”

“‘Til I say you can take them off.”

I did as I was told, moving my hand to grip the soft strands on the back of his neck, softly dragging my nails over his scalp and drawing a shiver from his spine and a groan from his lungs. He pulled me against him, crushing his lips against mine one more time. He swiftly pulled away and I leant back on my hands, both of us taking a moment to drink each other in - to bask in lascivious glory. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and looked up at him through my lashes, the lenses of my glasses starting to fog around the edges. Another deep moan rumbled from his chest as his heated gaze stayed locked to mine.

“I can’t wait any longer now that you’ve looked at me like that. Fuck.”

With a large hand gripping the soft flesh of my thigh he pulled my underwear to one side and lined himself up, slowly sinking in. Blissful moans harmonised between us, the rawness of him stretching me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced and my quivering thighs wrapped around him, pushing him to the hilt. He secured his large hands on the soft flesh of my hips and held me in place as he slowly withdrew. I could feel him; feel every ridge and vein drag out and then in, out and in, over my most sensitive, intimate, area. The slick sounds of our intimacy  began to echo around the room as he picked up speed, strong thighs working at a feverish pace. With every thrust he pushed against that one spot that made my legs jerk and eyes water, my arms almost giving out underneath me as the table rattled beneath my weight. With the ferocity of his pounding and the heightened sensitivity he’d curated between my legs only moments before, we both knew that neither of us would last long. The sounds of his ragged breaths and throaty moans alone had me clenching around him already, and I know my constricting muscles already had his hips stuttering as I sucked him in with every thrust.

“Fuck (Y/n)- You’re so fuckin’ tight-”

I chewed on my bottom lip as his desperate eyes met mine.

“Oh yeah? Well I feel like you’re cock is in my fucking ribcage- oh fuck-”

He slipped one hand between us, his large palm resting on my lower belly as his thumb drew fast circles around my clit. The immediate contact on my bundle of nerves had my whole body quivering, the knot of an impending climax already starting to twist tighter and tighter in the depths of my core. The way that Dean fucked me into the motel room table was something that I would be able to feel deep in my soul for the rest of my life - my body and entire nervous system having never been worked in such a feral way before. Dean dropped forward and crushed my body into his - one large strong arm wrapped around my trembling body and kept me pressed against him as his head dropped to the crook of my neck. Soft lips pressed hot kisses against my shoulder, teeth gently nibbling the soft flesh as the coil wound and wound, the wave of orgasmic bliss rising higher and higher as my mind emptied, leaving behind only one thought.

Dean.

He was all consuming - all I could see, taste and smell. All I could feel. Oh God could I feel him; driving me to the brink of pure bliss as he frantically sped up - desperate to seek his own undoing as well as my own. One… two… three more fervid thrusts and the peak he’d helped me ascend to shattered around me as I practically screamed his name, the white-hot euphoria scorching my insides as I clamped like a vice around him. 

“Oh shit- (Y/n) I can’t- fuck-”

I grabbed the back of his head and pushed his mouth to mine as he came undone, spilling inside me as he worked through his own white-hot euphoria. 

The kiss we shared evolved from hot and needy to soft and wanting - the sensation of hot cum running down the inside of my thigh and cooling against my skin being the only thing to pull me away. Dean continued to lean over me for a moment, looking down at me with an expression that told me he had so much he wanted to say. Instead, he looked down at his release now starting to pool on the floor beneath us, then to the books and laptop that had been thrown across the floor before turning back to face me with the most devilish grin on his face.

“You know that this mess is all your fault, right?”

I scoffed.

“My fault? How is it my fault?”

“Because, sweetheart…” he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and pushed lightly on the plastic bridge sitting on my nose.

“You put on on those fucking glasses.”

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

Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @libby99hb @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung

[dragon-ascent]

You tend to dramaticize events. Poor Zhongli is a worrywart…or something.

Zhongli would be writing in his journal one fine day when you barge in after a bout of adventuring.

“Guess what! I almost got my head sliced off!” you exclaim, hands on your hips.

“You what?!” Zhongli drops his journal in shock. “Darling, what..?”

“I was playing with a kid and her plastic sword nearly did me in!”

Zhongli, who has already summoned his spear to behead whoever had dared to try beheading you, sits back down with a soft exhale. "Ah."

On another occasion, you come home in slightly damp clothes and tell your darling Zhongli, “I nearly drowned today!”

Your husband momentarily appears stricken, but he then eyes you sceptically. You’re not sopping wet. “Oh? Tell me what happened.”

“I tripped and fell into a puddle!” you moan. “Isn’t that awful? We’re lucky I’m alive and well! Rex Lapis gives his weakest soldiers his hardest battles!”

Zhongli tries to hide his smile as he fetches you a towel. “Indeed. What a treacherous puddle that must have been.”

When you're sick, lord have mercy. You'd be laying in bed, admittedly fine for the most part, save for a stuffy nose. But of course you have to be theatrical about it.

“This is the end for me…” You peer at your husband through half-lidded eyes. "I bequeath all my mortal possessions to you after my passing..."

Zhongli, quite used to your antics by now, merely hums. "And does that include your dried flower collection, dear?"

"Yes..." you groan, rolling over in bed. "But they'll never fill the void in your heart when I'm gone."

"How tragic, my sweet."

"I'm going to die tonight..."

"Oh dear, my sweet."

"Will you miss me?"

"Very much so, my sweet."

You pout. “You’re not sad enough! I’m sick! Siiiiick!”

“How true, my sweet. Shall I call every doctor in Liyue to tend to you with every medicinal remedy possible? The bitterer, the better. And how about, say, three weeks’ bed rest?”

Suddenly you’re not that sick anymore.

[minisugakoobies]

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted. 

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem. 

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you. 

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around. 

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around. 

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous? 

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye. 

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago. 

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him. 

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late. 

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs. 

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back. 

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that. 

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You:  It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me? 

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort. 

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little. 

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is. 

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one. 

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance. 

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response. 

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing. 

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man. 

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible. 

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.  

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not? 

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now. 

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide. 

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -  

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge. 

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?” 

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back. 

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands. 

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu. 

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon. 

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it? 

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses. 

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.” 

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close. 

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.  

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?” 

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment. 

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now. 

“I want what you promised me.” 

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.” 

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.” 

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.  

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him. 

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can. 

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.” 

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”  

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips. 

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face. 

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel. 

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.” 

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want. 

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation. 

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now. 

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?” 

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”  

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat. 

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes. 

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.” 

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you. 

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck. 

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly. 

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo. 

“‘Gyu, please.” 

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around. 

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?” 

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.” 

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you. 

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up. 

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements. 

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!” 

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.” 

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids. 

“It’ll be something like this.” 

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.” 

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over. 

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” 

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you. 

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again. 

“Kiss me.” 

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.” 

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip. 

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.” 

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands. 

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.” 

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture? 

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.” 

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”  

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?” 

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.” 

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?” 

“I might have some ideas.” 

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!” 

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© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.