#oh look they basically girlfriends without the sex

[mimasroom2]

Rouge est perdue (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Roommate!Ellie who is a perv😝

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

I remember somebody writing something like this but I’ve no idea who ˙◠˙. This is literally a complete 180 from my previous fic LMAO😭 it’s been over a year since I’ve written just pure smut,, idk if this is good or not but whatever.

C/w: FILTHY smut. Porn w a bit of plot. No use of Y/N. Fingering (both receiving). Pillow humping. dom!reader & sub!ellie. Kinda loser!ellie? Ellie is a perv but still needs consent >•<. Squirting😇.

W/c: 2.7k

~ 𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

“Heyyy Ellie? This is gonna sound weird,,, but like,, do you know where any of my underwear is?”

You feel so fucking weird asking your roommate this question. After all, it’s just so embarrassing, and you’ve looked EVERYWHERE. If you didn’t know where it is… she definitely didn’t. I mean, the dryer eats up your socks all the time. Probably happens to Ellie too. Surely you’re not the only one with garments missing.

Ellie shifts a little on her feet, “What do ya mean?” She looks at you with those damn puppy dog eyes she loves to use, and you swear you’re not crazy when your stomach does the flip thing.

You try not to look her in the eye, “Not really bras but more like… panties?”

“Ohhh okay. Ya I understand. Oh but no- haven’t seen any that aren’t mine.” She says nonchalantly while walking away.

You blink at her, “Oh! well thanks anyway.” You shrug your shoulders as you walk back into your room.

~

She had promised herself only a couple pairs. Maximum 3. She tried to be smart about it - she’d take one pair of each kind you had. That way it wouldn’t look so suspicious, instead of only your pretty Victoria’s Secret thongs going missing. One pair of briefs, one pair of bikinis,,, and of course her favorite thong of yours.

This whole… obsession… we can say, started on the second day the two moved in together. You two were sitting on the couch after you’d spent way too long lugging it inside together. You were texting your friends on your phone as she turned on the tv to some dinosaur channel. Ellie couldn’t stop sneaking glances of you - your body and what you were wearing. She flashed her eyes down and saw this absolutely gorgeous pair of red panties peek out from under your leggings. Seeing you in those almost made her drop the remote. Why would you be wearing something like that? Who were you trying to impress?

From what she could tell from rummaging through your things when you moved in yesterday, you were single. In fact, you basically had lay it all out beautifully for her. All your bras, underwear, tights and sex toys were all in the same box. She licked her lips, no girl getting some good head at the moment would need a clit sucking vibrator. It all came together when she casually mentioned her last girlfriend’s around you, and she had to turn away to smile when you mentioned you like girls too.

Now, Ellie had this habit. Whenever you’d go out with your friends or off to work, she’d waltz into her bedroom, lock the door (to be safe), and dig down deep in her underwear drawer until she found your own panties. She carefully had them hidden inside her own boxers, there was basically no way you could ever find them. Not like you would search her room without permission anyway, she knew you. And of course she didn’t really steal them… she was borrowing them. She planned on returning them whenever she felt like it… whenever that might be.

~

Today Ellie went through her usual routine of waiting five minutes after you left, going into her room, and grabbing the red thong. She sighed and bit her lip. It was almost as pretty as you.. silk with soft mesh, see through basically everywhere except for where your pussy would lay. She played with the red bow on top, “This is so fucking stupid.” She thought to herself.

Ellie pressed her lips together, reaching into her shorts and palming herself over her boxers. She sighed immediately, letting out a soft “fuuuckkkk” as her eyes fluttered shut.

She’d been waiting about two weeks since she snagged your thong to fuck herself with it. Yeah, she was really fucking horny for you, but she wanted to draw it out as long as she could.

She hummed to herself, “Mmmmm,, need more..” she sat down on her bed and took her shorts off. She inspected the panties once more, as if she hadn’t done that one hundred times already. Just by feeling them she could tell they were new. Maybe you were feeling confident about your new life you’ve started. New job, new roommate, new panties. She was absent-mindedly rocking her hips back and forth during this, thinking about how you’d look wearing them while laying on her bed.

She finally took off her boxers and dipped her fingers into her pussy. Her mouth opened a little, she was wetter than she thought she’d be. “Mmhh okay,” she sighs, “Thas’ better.” Ellie brought her wet fingers up to her throbbing clit, just touching it, not even rubbing circles like how she desperately needed to. She couldn’t take it and whimpered, pushing her fingers onto herself harder as punishment. She felt her clit fluttering faster each second she held her fingers there.

She suddenly stopped , getting up to grab a pillow. She situated it in between her legs. “Okay..” she sighed, slowly lowering herself onto it. She began rocking her hips back and forth again, knitting her eyebrows together. It felt so much fucking better than humping nothing, especially considering how firm the edge of the pillow was.

She kept going, making her movements faster, but she quickly grew annoyed as her shirt would become tucked underneath herself as she rides the pillow. Grunting, she quickly pulled the shirt off, completely bare and naked except for her black sports bra. She hastily grabbed your red panties and lost her mind humping the pillow. She whimpered and started to let out small, quiet moans as her actions grew more and more desperate.

“Y-yesss.. hah- so good.. fuck me, more pleassssse…” Ellie could feel that familiar tightness at her core start to arise.

~

As you approached the door to your appartement with your huge grocery haul in both hands, you heard the tv playing. You shook your head and smiled to yourself, “Ugh Ellie’s always turning the tv up way too loud.. gonna get noise complaints soon.” You thought.

Quickly stepping inside, you set all the grocery bags down on the counter and walked to the living room to tell Ellie to turn down the tv. However, as soon as you walked in there was no Ellie, only the tv turned up and on some channel you knew Ellie didn’t even watch. You raised an eyebrow but shook it off. She was probably invited somewhere last minute and, knowing Ellie, probably threw something on and ran out the door without turning off any lights or the tv.

You grabbed the remote from off the couch and watched the channel for a few seconds before deciding to click the power off button. The very second you turned off the tv, you weren’t greeted by silence, but by Ellie’s voice doing something you never thought you’d hear: moaning.

Your whole face suddenly grew red, and you felt your stomach drop. Your mind began to race: Holy shit. She’s fucking someone in there. Why is she doing that today. Ohmygod I never said I was going to the store. She probably thought I was going to work and would be out for hours. Fuck. Fuck. Why is she fucking that girl and not me? No- fuck that’s wrong. I can’t think that about my roommate I barley know! Ohmygod I thought that when she said she was single she meant like- she didn’t even do one night stands. Oh fuck me in the fucking ass-

Suddenly, your rapid stream of thoughts were cut off by Ellie moaning your name.

“Mmmhhhmm.. hahhh fuck right there baby. Yes.. yes I’m such a fuckin’ slut for you.” You hear her whine and fucking whimper. Your eyes grew as wide as balloons and you immediately dropped your purse on the couch. You take off your shoes so you’re not as loud, and sneak over to Ellie’s room where her door is closed.

You feel so fucking awkward you don’t know what to do. Maybe you felt a little more horny than awkward however, because suddenly you notice yourself squeezing your thighs together and shifting on your feet.

“Fuck it.” You thought. You reach for the door handle but stop as you go to turn it, second guessing yourself. Is this really right? Well I mean, she’s the one masturbating to you and moaning your name… so…

You turn the handle and slowly open the door. It creaks a little, causing Ellie to jump and freeze in place. The only thing you can manage to say is “Holyyyyy fuck.” Your super fucking hot ass tatted up roommate is riding her own pillow with your own red thong in hand moaning your own name. You feel like you can’t even breathe.

“Ohmygod wait-“ Ellie starts, trying her best to hunch over and cover herself with the pillow, “Okay fuck I’m really sorry I didn’t even think you’d be home fuckingfuckmegoddammit I even turned on the tv super loud so no one would hear me and if I heard it turn off I would know you came back but ohmyfuckinggod I didn’t hear it go silent imsofuckingsorry-“

You cut off her rambling of explanations and apologies, “Heyyyy, Ellie…?” You slowly take off your jacket and shirt, trying your very best to be sensual, but this was never your forte. “You didn’t finish… right?” You slowly look up at her.

“Wha-? What? Why are you asking me-“

“You didn’t answer me.” You interrupt her. Your eyes become half lidded as you feel yourself becoming more confident. “Did you finish? Yes or no, Els.”

Ellie suddenly blushes at the nickname, “No.” she whispers with wide eyes, looking right at you.

“Let me help you then.”

“Fuck- please.”

That’s all the consent you need before you practically leap onto her, kissing her ravenously. The kiss quickly becomes sloppy and desperate, you pull away quickly to get some air, “Fuck. Been wanting to do that since I moved in.” Without letting Ellie respond, you latch yourself onto her neck, kissing and taking in her scent that you love so much.

“Mmmph- please…” She whimpers, quite pathetically. “Can’t wait baby..”

You smile at the pet name, kissing her deeply again as your hands explore her toned body.

You swear it’s only ten seconds more and she breaks away, whispering “I-I need you.”

“Oh I fucking know.”

Ellie watches you, eyes unfaltering as you plant kisses down her chest, toned abs, all the way down to her pussy.

Without warning, you start sliding a finger in, “Wanna see how loose you are.” You mutter to yourself. You don’t know why you’re even shocked when you easily push inside of her, deciding to slip another finger in.

Ellie moans immediately, grinding her hips rapidly down onto your hand. She throws her head back and her moans become louder, quicker. Suddenly, something red to the right of Ellie catches your eye as you’re finger fucking her. You were so tunnel visioned, ready to fuck her, that you completely forgot about your missing panties. The panties that she stole. You keep your eyes locked on your underwear as you speed up, as Ellie starts whining, basically crying about how she’s “Gonna cum soon.”

You can feel her g-spot so easily.

“Yeah? You’re gonna fucking tell me you took it or you’re not gonna cum. Use your words.” You instruct, never slowing down your pace.

Ellie gasps, she can’t even pretend she doesn’t know what you’re talking about, “Yeah. Y-Yes I fucking took it. Mmm- wanted to see… needed you so bad.. aaaaahh..” she stammers out and you never stopped fucking her desperate little pussy, occasionally moaning in response to what she tried to say.

Finally getting the confession you needed, you curled your fingers up inside of her. “Fuck- I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum.. gonnacumbabyyy……”

“Cum for me, Ellie.”

She finally does, finally gets to cum after everything that’s happened. She gasps rapidly.

You talk her through her orgasm, saying things like, “That’s it Ellie.” “God you’re so fucking beautiful.”

As soon as she was done squirming, Ellie grabs your face and kisses you deeply. She sits the two of your up and slides her knee in between your thighs. You were so turned on, you swear you could cum just from doing this. It seems as though Ellie understood exactly what you wanted, because she swiftly flips you over onto your back and starts unbuttoning your pants.

You laugh, suddenly getting an idea, “Wait, wait. Turn around and cover your eyes, Els.”

She’s skeptical, raising an eyebrow but complies anyway. After all, you just gave her the best orgasm she’s probably ever had. She hears shuffling for a few seconds, and the zipper of your pants coming undone as you drop them to the floor.

“Tadaaaa!” You exclaim, signaling to Ellie that it’s okay if she turns around.

You swear Ellie’s eyes have never been wider as she sees you wearing nothing but that damn red thong.

She almost drools, “Holyyyyy shiiiitttttt..” and slowly walks over to you, grabbing your waist with her sexy ass hands. “Even better than I was imagining.. need to fuck you right now okay..?” She mutters, mostly to herself, as she’s still too distracted feeling up how the red silk hugs your body.

“Been ready for so long, Els.” You say as you crawl back onto the bed, trying to break her out of her spell.

Ellie climbs on top of you and plays with your nipples, kissing and biting your neck at the same time. You whimper - that’s definitely going to leave marks in the morning. Only after a few seconds her hands leave your chest, moving lower to peel away the red fabric and reveal your dripping pussy.

She gasps, staring for a few moments at how beautiful you are. “Fuck, so so pretty.” She cracks her knuckles, “God, you’re already so wet for me… I’m gonna stretch you out baby, lemme know if you hurt ‘mkay?”

You whine in response, feeling the butterflies in your stomach erupt as she effortlessly slides two fingers in. You gasp as she starts moving, then slowly picking up the pace until she’s basically slamming into your g-spot.

“Ohhh.. f-fuck me.”

Ellie pants as she pumps her gorgeous fingers in and out of you, “That’s jus’ what I’m doin’ baby.” She smirks. Suddenly, she adds one more finger and brings her thumb up to rub your clit, and you almost scream.

It only takes a little more and you’re already on edge. She can feel you clenching around her. You’re so close. She hisses sharply, sucking in the air through her teeth as you take her, “Fuck, see my tattoo moving as I fuck you hon?” She pants, “Doin’ so good for me like this.”

“I- I think I’m gonna cum soon..” You whimper and your legs start shaking. “Ahh,, fuck Ellie-!!”

“Go on baby, you can cum.”

With just that little bit of motivation, you finally have the orgasm you’ve so desperately wanted. It’s so intense as she keeps fucking you senseless, you feel yourself squirt, which almost never happens, the warm fluid surprising you. You cover your face with your hands, so embarrassed that your body is doing this for Ellie. She hushes you, letting you know it’s okay.

You know you’re finally done when you throw your head back, trying to catch your breath. Ellie flops down beside you, smiling at you and waiting for the right time to say something.

“So, wanna like… be my girlfriend now?” She says, absolutely way too nonchalantly.

You look at her and laugh, slapping her arm playfully, “You literally made me see stars, Ellie! Gimme a second!!”

She throws her hands up in the air. “Sorry, sorry! Just couldn’t wait.” You both giggle.

You turn over on your side, kissing her cute little nose, “Yeah.. yeah that’d be nice.”

You smile and Ellie’s face lights up, she quickly plants fast kisses all over your face. “My hot roommate wants to date me!!” She exclaims. You laugh and she pulls you in closer, hugging her arms around you.

She reaches over to turn off the lamp, and the two of you drift off to sleep.

♡

[tra1nchi]

imagine rthose 2 bestfriends getting addicted to your dick and would literally do it for free now

And reader being the chad he is took care of them basically and now he has 2 live in boymaid girlfriends >∆<

them getting reader a birthday present with the so little money they have made reader happy and fucked them all nice and sloppy as a reward they couldn't attend class the next two days

Taming them <3 MINORS DNI!! Top male reader,,Cock addicted bffs,,Rough sex,,Handjobs,,

After a while,,they couldn't keep themselves away from you,,even without the need of money they would willingly get into your bed,,sucking you off for free or sending you nudes without you even asking for it,,

They eventually left their stingy apartment to move in with you,,your house was so big compared to theirs,,like other things about you,,living with them had perks but also faults!!

One of their perks were that they are extremely obedient or atleast felix is,,he would do any chore for you as long as he'd be your good boy by the end of the night,,Kai was a little different,,still needing his pride even as he wore the short maids dress for your own amusement,,

Felix had noticed it was coming close to your birthday and kai wanted to buy you a birthday present but they remembered that they couldn't access your bank account without you knowing!!

While you were at work,,they got busy,,kai was the lookout,, standing near the door for the sound of your keys,,felix worked making a small but cute paper flower bouquet for you,,putting his heart into it!!! :3

You finally arrived home,,kai with open arms clung to you pressing kisses to your face as he excitedly dragged you to the liking room where felix stood,,his face red as he held the bouquet out for you!!

"It isn't much but..he worked really hard on it!" He says with a smile,,looking up at your face only for you to grab them both roughly!! Dragging them to your bedroom /_\

Before they knew it,,they were being played with by you,,getting all riled up from your endless praise,, sitting them both on your lap,,your hand wrapping against their cock as you sloppily jerked them off using heavy amounts of lube,,their shared moans only grew louder as you started to kiss and bite their necks!!

"Oh! We're glad you like..it! A-ah! Took me all day~" Felix moans were loud as kai hide his face in your shoulder,,kai came first,,his cock spluttering out cum onto your hand as felix watched,,biting his lip heavily as his own hand wanders down to your crotch,,

"we can have it right..? We've been so good" he moved down onto his knees,, slowly unzipping your fly while kai joined him after his orgasmic bliss,,both off them licking and worshipping your cock!!

Kai was first to get fucked by your cock,,bouncing himself up and down on it lewdly,,purposely moaning loudly while felix watched how your cock disappeared in and out of his best friends cock addicted hole!!

When it was Felix's turn,,you did something different with them,,laying kai down first and encouraging felix to enter him,,with a short spank on his ass you joined the duo,,thrusting roughly into felix which in turn forced Felix's hips into kai's!!

It went on for hours,,no matter how many times they had came,,they always wanted more of your cock,,only stopping when the sun started to come up :<

[aemondfairy]

Bad Idea, Right?

summary: A night of drinking with your friends lands you at your ex boyfriend’s apartment — which is ultimately a bad idea.

pairing: Modern!Aemond x Ex girlfriend!Reader

word count: 3k

warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, angst, brief mention of drug use, language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, creampie, Aemond is a fuckboy. 18+ MDNI

note: idk how I feel about this but Modern!Aemond is my weakness, and the grwm of Ewan ruined my life. Feedback is appreciated! Feel free to send me requests!

If someone were to ask you your own personal example of girlhood your answer would be simple: getting ready for a night out with your girlfriends. While going out and partying with your friends was fun, you considered the act of getting ready together art in itself.

It was tradition, a ritual. Filled with laughter, inside jokes, excitement, and anticipation.

Glitter, hairspray, memories. It was your time to bond and let go of everyday stress.

And that’s where you found yourself right now: sat in front of your best friend’s vanity, large curlers in your hair. The sweet smell of vanilla coming from Rhaena’s birthday cake scented candle filling the room.

Six months had passed since your breakup with Aemond and the twins had declared that you had spent more than enough time moping. It was time to get you back out in the world.

“I’m so happy that us girls are going out tonight,” Baela said as she finished up applying her mascara.

You involuntarily scoffed at her comment.

“What?” She questioned, glaring at you.

“It’s not like it’s just us,” you say matter of factly.

“Oh, come on! You know Jace is basically one of us!”

She wasn’t wrong. If you had to pick a guy to be in your friend group, it would be Jace Velaryon. He was easy to talk to, kind, considerate. A breath of fresh air from what you were used to. You understood why Baela was into him. Plus, he donned a beautiful set of chocolate colored curls matched with an adorable, toothy, grin.

“Do not beat around the bush, Bae!” You admonished, “I know Cregan will be there too.”

Cregan Stark was Jace’s best friend. A rugged guy from the North. He had a thick beard and piercing gray-blue eyes. He had quiet confidence, basically a big teddy bear. There was no denying he was rather handsome. It’s not that you would be opposed to sleeping with him, per say, you just weren’t sure if you were ready yet; although Baela begged to differ.

Once the three of you were all ready to go and the Uber was on it’s way, Baela pulled you to the side.

“Look,” she began, holding each of your hands in hers, “I know you're nervous. You’ve been through a lot and it can be hard to put yourself back out there — but you deserve this. Aemond’s out living his life, you have to live yours! It’s going to be fine! You look incredible, we are going to have a great time.”

Baela, as usual, was right. You were enjoying yourself. You were now on your third drink, tapping your finger nails on the glass as you half heartedly listened to Cregan tell an embarrassing story about Jace from when the two of them were in high school when you felt your phone vibrate.

A text from an unknown number flashed against your screen, paying no mind to it you opened it immediately. Your stomach dropped.

Hey… it’s Aemond.

You swore that men had some kind of radar that would let them know when a woman was finally happy without them. When that radar went off, only then was it that they decided to try to contact you again. Not during the months where your heart was left in ruin, not when you would do anything for answers. Only once you were healing, on the brink of reaching that light at the end of the tunnel; they weaseled their way into your life once more to ruin everything — and Aemond was right on schedule.

It had been months since he last contacted you, you felt as though your stomach was gonna fall out, your nervous system in a frenzy.

You could not let him ruin your fun.

“Let’s take a shot of something,” you suggested.

And then your phone buzzed again.

I know it’s been awhile, but I wanted to see how you’re doing?

Been awhile? That’s the understatement of the year. He didn’t care how you were doing when he broke up with you over a text. He didn’t care when the rumor of him sleeping with a professor spread around campus, humiliating you.

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

Relief washed over you once you saw Baela return with 5 shots of Tequila in hand.

“Heard this makes your clothes come off,” she said as she handed you the shot glass, shooting a wink over to Cregan. You downed the shot quickly, ignoring her comment. The liquid burned down your throat as it settled into your stomach.

Slamming the shot glass onto the table, your head spun and you could’ve sworn you felt your phone vibrate again. You needed air.

“I’ll be right back, I need a cigarette.”

“I’ll come with you!” Rhaena chirped.

“No!” You shouted, almost too enthusiastically.

“No, that’s okay. I know you hate the smell of smoke, Rhae. I’ll just be a minute.”

With that, you frantically made your way to the patio of the bar. Just as you lit your cigarette a familiar voice called out to you.

“Ohhh shit! I knew that was you!”

Now you were sure that the universe was certainly conspiring against you. It was none other than Aegon Targaryen. Aemond’s drunken, perverted, older brother. Wonderful.

Turning on your heel abruptly and puffing smoke out of your nostrils you gave him a reluctant wave.

“Hi, Aeg.”

“How are you?” He asked, wrapping his arms tightly around you, “how have you been?”

Not sure if it was the liquid courage or the need for someone else to witness the audacity of your ex, but you just shoved your phone into his chest, eyes glued to him as he scrolled through the messages with his eyebrows raised.

“Damn, I never would have thought Aemond to be the type to beg!” he laughed as you shot him a look of disapproval.

“Listen,” he said before taking a long drag of his own cigarette, “Aemond means well. He was pretty shaken up after you guys broke up.”

Yeah, right. What was there for him to be shaken up about? He broke up with you.

“And if you ask me,” he continued through puffs of his cigarette, “you’re the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Isn’t he seeing someone like, twice our age?”

“Not anymore.”

A pregnant pause filled the air between the two of you as he handed you your phone back.

The conversation was becoming awkward, so Aegon tried to comfort you the only way he knew how.

“I know you’re stressed and all… do you, uhhh, want a bump?”

His question took you by surprise.

“A bump? Um, I’m good, Aeg.. thanks.”

The blonde lifted his hands up in defeat.

“Good call, if you do go see Aemond, I doubt he would be happy about that.”

“I’m not going to see Aemond,” you answer flatly, hitting his arm lightly.

“Well, whatever or whoever you decide to do tonight I wish you luck!” he smirked, “but, I know our mom would be thrilled if you started to come around again.”

“She misses me?” you blurted out, the desperation clear in your voice.

“Yeah,” Aegon shrugged, “we all do.” He smiled as his large palm patted against your back before he made his way back inside the bar.

You stood in silence as you finished your cigarette, unsure of what to do when you received yet another text from Aemond. You responded with the first thing that came to your mind.

Have you been drinking?

No. Come over. I want to see you.

Your phone buzzed again, but this time it was a picture. A photo of his cat Vhagar. The elderly feline was sprawled out across his leather couch, the caption reading: “she misses you too.”

She did not. She only ever liked Aemond.

Well, I’ve been drinking so… can’t drive.

Where are you? I’ll come get you.

No. He couldn’t. You couldn’t risk Baela seeing, she would kill you.

Nah. That’s okay.

God, this conversation was going nowhere. Why were you entertaining him anyway?

Let me get you an Uber.

Buzz.

Please.

Gods, he was pushy.

Fine 🫠

Once you found yourself back inside the bar, you decided to use that last shot of tequila as your reason to leave. You had said something along the lines of the mixture of liquors wasn’t agreeing with you and that you were gonna head out. The girls were disappointed, but they understood. Baela’s only condition is that you were sure to text her once you were home safe. You bid Jace and Cregan goodbye, and even agreed to go out for drinks with them again in the upcoming week.

As you sat in the backseat of the Uber, your palms filled with sweat and your heart raced as you made your way to the other side of the city to Aemond’s new apartment. You couldn’t help but feel nervous, wondering how he might react and if this was the right decision. Your mind raced with thoughts and emotions, but you tried to stay composed as you you pulled up to the building.

Aemond was waiting outside the apartment complex for you. His expression was unreadable as he puffed on the last few drags of a cigarette, quickly flicking it to the ground and stomping it out so he could make his way over to you.

“Hey,” he greeted, offering a shy smile before extending his arms out to hug you. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

His scent alone was intoxicating. A mixture of nicotine, spearmint toothpaste and musky cologne. Being in his embrace again had your head spinning, you felt as if your heart was going to beat out of your chest. It was almost as if the two of you never parted ways, like he never left. Damn him, you thought to yourself .

“Well, this is my new place,” he said as he opened the door to the lavish apartment. It was absolutely was stunning. Beautiful, mahogany cabinets and stainless steel appliances. The living room was spacious with high ceilings and a giant window that had an incredible view of the city. It was very Aemond-esque. It felt familiar, safe.

You spotted Vhagar on the dark green velvet couch in the center of the room.

You watched carefully as one of her eyes opened, she rose from her spot almost instantly once she spotted you. Making a beeline to Aemond’s bedroom.

“I thought you said she missed me?” you asked playfully.

"I may have lied," Aemond replied, giving you a shy smile.

An hour had gone by and you had spent the majority of it arguing with Aemond about your past. You listened to him attempt to apologize, explaining that it wasn’t you, it was him. He made a mistake, he’s changed. You weren’t having it, and yet, in the midst of it all, you had found yourself sitting so close to him you were almost on top of him. Mid sentence he had crashed his lips against yours. A rude interruption, for sure — but now, all bets were off.

The kiss was rough and intoxicating, a clash of teeth and tongue. He grazed your bottom lip with his teeth before sucking it into his mouth. Your head spun.

"More," you whispered against his lips, "I need more of you."

Aemond took no time to pick you up and carry you to his bedroom, as he placed you down on his bed gently. You feel his hands tearing off your clothes, striping you down to your underwear. Your heart raced with anticipation and desire. The intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine. He lowered himself on top of you, reaching his arm up over his shoulder to remove his own shirt.

As he leant back down over you, his tongue trailed from your chin to your lips. A soft moan escaped your throat as he sucked on your lips, taking control of the kiss.

Arousal stirred inside you as he nipped down at your neck, licking and sucking until you arched your back under him, desperate for his touch.

“Missed me baby?” he teased, “because I sure missed you”, his violet eye scanned over your body, blown with lust as he made his way down. His slim fingers ghosted along your stomach, then gripped harshly onto the meaty flesh of your thigh. Your legs parted, letting him know what you wanted. He didn't hesitate, pulling your underwear off with one swoop. Leaving you completely bare in front of him.

“I missed this pretty little pussy too, fuck,” he groaned before biting at your thighs just before lowering his head between them, licking a stripe up your slit. You bucked under him, pushing him harder against you, driving his face deeper into your center.

A low groan left your throat, his name falling from your lips as you tugged at his silver hair and held his face against you. His tongue circled around your clit, the small bud swollen from his attentions. His fingers found their way inside you, exploring your cunt.

His thumb replaced his tongue on your clit as he rubbed harsh figure eights against you. He continued to rub your clit harder. Your breathing quickened, and your body legs began to shake.

"Oh, there’s my girl. You gonna cum for me?"

The combination of his words and a few more thrusts of his fingers made your mind go completely blank. Your ears rang, your vision blurred so much you had to squeeze your eyes shut, eventually seeing stars. Aemond finger fucked you through your orgasm as you soaked his hand.

You laid there for a moment, total blackness surrounding you until your Aemond’s calm voice brought you back to reality.

“Holy shit. You good baby?”

You nodded your head eagerly at him, “More than okay.”

After giving you some more time to come down from your first orgasm, Aemond crawled on top of you, as he began to slowly drag his cock between your already swollen folds, swirling the tip in your wetness; almost pushing in, but not quite.

“Aem,” you moaned, “please, I need to feel you. All of you .”

“Still so needy, hm?” He teased as he buried his cock inside you to the hilt. You winced at the length of him.

“Littleeee bit of a stretch baby,” he said as he let you adjust to his size, “there we go.”

"Oh.. Gods," you moaned. You forgot just how big Aemond was. The stretch was almost unbearable and yet, you craved more. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper into you.

He began to rock back and forth into you, pumping his cock in and out. The louder you moaned, the harder he pounded into you. Eventually, the head of his cock pressed against your cervix.

"Please, please don't stop," you begged. He began to pound into you harder and faster, the lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass filled the room. You felt your second orgasm of the night building inside of you as he continued to fuck you.

"Oh, Gods! Aemond, please, you’re going to make me cum again,” you babbled as your orgasm ripped through you once more. Your cunt clenched around his length as the tip of his cock bullied the spongy spot inside you without mercy.

Your slick coated walls contracting around him was all it took for him to lose control. He let out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside you, filling you with his seed as he bit down hard on your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned as the aftermath of his own orgasm coursed through him, his cock still twitching inside of you. After placing a wet kiss on your cheek he positioned himself upright, placing a hand flat on the headboard behind you to help keep balance, he slowly pulled his cock out of you. You winced at the emptiness, a pool of warmth leaking out of your cunt and onto the bed sheets.

“Oh, shit. Here, let me help clean you up.”

As you came down from your high, you also came to your senses. No. Him cleaning you up would be too intimate of an act — as if he wasn’t just buried inside of you.

“No, Aem. It’s fine, I need to go to the bathroom anyway.”

He shrugged, “there are washcloths under the sink if you need one.”

Your heart sank as the bathroom door shut. A red lacy bra, that definitely didn’t belong to you was slung over the door handle. Memories of your past relationship came flooding back, along with feelings of sadness and regret. You couldn’t help but wonder who the bra belongs to, your first thought was that older professor. It's a painful reminder that not only had Aemond had not changed at all, he also just took advantage of you.

This was definitely a bad idea.

[lucyandthepen]

salted caramel | lmh ( m )

you hadn’t been aware that mark’s jealousy followed the rules of baseball — three strikes, and he snaps?

read the first part here!

pairing: barista!bf!mark x reader verse: college!au rating: r warnings&tags: unprotected sex, mentions of creampies (although not an actual one), hickeys, possessiveness and jealousy, exhibitionism, sort of phone sex in conjunction with said exhibitionism, oral (m!receiving), mark has an understated but unending obsession with mc’s stomach, tummy bulges, we always love an implicit bigdick!mark, donghyuck is kind of a little shit and basically he has to cross a few lines for this “plot” to get to where it gets word count: 20.3k

a/n: this is a bit rushed and panicked because I basically wrote it in a feverish 2.5ish days… i’m so sorry that the pacing might be a little off, especially since I can never tell if it’s actually too fast or not. this is also unedited and unbeta’d but oh well because i never edit my stuff before posting and just re-edit when I re-read! regardless, i hope it’s something that you can enjoy, and i couldn’t pick between sweetest bf ever!mark and hottest mf ever!mark, so i guess you get a little bit of both!

if you liked it, please consider reblogging to support (especially because this may get flagged for mature content)!

You should have noticed it the first time, but in your overall defense, you find most things that you take note of about Mark Lee to be more on the highly positive and greatly endearing side — or, maybe, you just have a tendency to paint him in that kind of light.

You can’t really help it; he’s still got that halfway shy, softly adoring look in his eyes whenever he sees you, which is more often now than ever before, and you just can’t do anything but reciprocate, if only to see his eyes grow a little brighter. You wonder if Mark’s aware that if this were a Shakespearean scenario, you’d easily fall on your sword for him without question, for as long as he asked, but you don’t think there’s any pressing need to remind him — not with the way you spend most of your free time figuring out ways to be with him. You’re certain he should know, what with the fact that every time he looks at you, even just a glimpse, your gaze is always on him, ready to make eye contact whenever he turns his head — something he often acknowledges with one of those signature blushes that spread like wildfire across his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears.

It also should be unmistakably clear that you’re head over heels for him, given how at least once a week, he’s got his face buried between your legs in an attempt to hear the thing he wants you to say the most (see: his name, in varying pitches and decibels) — but if he doesn’t notice then, you can’t hold it against him; Mark’s mouth is so attentive that you doubt his mind is anywhere else apart from what inch of you his tongue is going to meet next in that moment. At least, that much is true for you.

He should at least know, what with you waiting for his classes to end so you can walk to Starbucks for his afternoon shift; you even race the twenty-minute distance to the Department of Mathematics, still holding your European Renaissance History textbook from your last lecture, just to make sure you’re there right as he gets out — a fact he has to know is an act of devotion, considering how often he finds you heaving for air and leaning your back against the brick wall outside the Accounting 150 Lab. Even his professor knows you as Mark Lee’s admirer, which is all well and good, but if you had the breath to spare, you’d correct his terminology for accuracy. Girlfriend. You’re Mark Lee’s girlfriend.

It’s a fact you don’t mind reminding him of but that you actually have to do quite often, because when you call Mark the appropriate counterpart — boyfriend — his eyes still widen, like he’s hearing it for the first time. It’s cute, just like everything else about him. You just have to wonder, at times, if he doesn’t believe you.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter; you’ll just keep telling him.

You don’t have any classes with Mark this semester, which is a shame, considering your favorite pastime over the last few months had just been to stare at his side profile and wish he’d look over so you could kiss him, but the fact that you spend almost every day with him now, using that time to remind him of how much you want to kiss him and actually getting it to do it right then and there, pretty much more than makes up for your previous schedule of daydreaming.

However, hanging out with him doesn’t always mean you’re just with him; you came to learn this after the first week of the new semester, and you’ve now gotten used to the fact that with Mark Lee sometimes comes his band of tall, often loud friends.

The loudest by far is Lee Donghyuck, the mysterious figure last semester that you’d only known by one syllable, now easily recognizable (and no longer enigmatic by any means to you) by his booming voice and even more demanding personality. He’s supremely outgoing, a trait you can’t say you mind, but there’s an interesting contrast between Mark, who tends to say things after carefully considering his ideas, and Donghyuck, who seems to just burst out in fits of impulsive rambling that often leads to some kind of semi-structured debate. It kind of gives you whiplash, in a funny, slightly perplexing way.

The whole friend group likes to meet up at Starbucks while Mark is on his shift, and now that they’ve come to know you as that girl Mark didn’t teach a single thing in College Algebra to but still somehow got lucky with (something you’ve wasted immense efforts into correcting but have ultimately failed to do so), you now find yourself sitting with them, all somehow waiting for who appears to be the nucleus of this group to stop taking coffee orders and hang up his (cute, but you’re the only one that thinks so, actually) green apron.

Again, you don’t mind it; new people aren’t an issue to you, and you’re also interested in finding out more about Mark through those closest to him. You get to see the few ways they’re alike in contrast to the staggering number of things that make them amusingly different from one another. Despite the broad spectrum of their intersecting interests, you’ve come to learn, through the conversations you’ve had to sit through over the last month, that they have varying opinions on said interests. For instance, you know they’re all into video games, Japanese manga, and long-winding fantasy movies, but every conversation takes flight the moment there’s even a spark of dissent from one person — and the source, usually (and quite unfortunately), is Lee Donghyuck himself.

Today is no exception.

“Dude, you’re crazy,” Zhong Chenle practically seethes. Whether by sheer coincidence or actual desire, he’s the one who most often finds himself staring Donghyuck down, trying to bend the latter’s will into admitting defeat. Donghyuck, on the other hand, has mastered the art of looking supremely unperturbed, especially when Chenle is in the heat of his rage. “The ninth was the worst, hands down.”

“Art and rendering were so solid.” Donghyuck raises a finger, and you’re not sure if it’s to start off a list or to shut Chenle up. You don’t want to ask, anyway, too busy finding amusement in the shifting expressions of despair, rage, anguish, and murderous intent on the latter’s face to speak up. You presume that’s why everyone else isn’t stopping them — or maybe they’re just preparing their own defenses and points to raise. “Intuitive combat and flawless combo chains. The fucking open world? Which other installment in the franchise offers that much depth in the gameplay?”

“Depth? Do you even hear yourself right now?” Chenle grips his head so tightly that when he pulls his hands away, there are actual red marks across his forehead and temple, and his bangs are askew. “What kind of depth comes from cloned movesets? The character designs are so stupidly traditional too. And—”

“There’s a unique kind of beauty in familiarity.”

“The open world was a disaster,” Chenle plows on. “It was so empty, and the map was the farthest thing from intuitive. It’s quite literally the worst thing KOEI has ever done. That’s exactly why they went back to the limited map strategy in later installments. Even the spin-offs.”

“I thought the grappling and ambush systems were pretty intuitive. Ingenious, even.”

It’s a singularly amusing sight — Chenle is one insult to his pride away from imploding, and Donghyuck is just checking the dirt under his nails like he’s waiting in line to take his school ID photo. Park Jisung, one of the quieter ones in the bunch, tries to diffuse the tension by clearing his throat and going ‘I actually really liked the Age Of Calamity Zelda one they released with all the different campaigns,’ but that just goes unnoticed by either party.

“You once failed an ambush play just because you were stuck behind a wall you couldn’t scale. Don’t say shit about the ambush and grappling mechanics.”

“Unlike some people sitting around this table, I learn from my mistakes. That’s also probably why some people — not naming names — just can’t appreciate the artistic beauty that is Dynasty Warriors 9.”

Donghyuck doesn’t even look up from his cuticles when Chenle explodes.

“You’re fucking impossible!”

“Can you guys relax?” Lee Jeno, who had somehow miraculously found the space and silence in the breaths between the entire argument to doze off, opens one eye, only slightly irate. “You’re making a scene over a dead game franchise.”

“It’s not dead; they’re on hiatus,” both Chenle and Donghyuck chime in together, apparently finding a moment of unique solidarity to shoot Jeno down before going back to glaring daggers at each other. Jeno shrugs, gives everyone else at the table an I tried kind of exasperated expression, and settles back into his seat, the one eye already closing before he’s fully folded his arms across his chest.

Your eyes wander away from the group over to the counter. You’re thankful for the fact that most of the time, you just get invited to share a table with them without necessarily being trapped in the middle of a conversation — especially one as heated as the one Chenle is prolonging while jabbing his finger accusingly at Donghyuck, as if he’s trying to pin a crime on the latter instead of just explaining why Donghyuck’s opinion is ‘borne of ignorance.’ When they’re all caught up in their business like this, you end up being able to revel in your more or less unobstructed view of Mark behind the barista’s station, where he’s busy piping an extra helping of whipped cream on top of a strawberry frappuccino for a kid that’s already jumping up and down next to the pick-up station.

The biting winter had already given way to the first signs of spring, and the Starbucks Mark works at has a supremely effective central heating system that allows people to shed their coats. This works in your favor, considering Mark wears nothing but a button-up shirt over his apron while he works, and he’s got this habit of rolling up his sleeves so they don’t catch any stains. You’re pretty sure he has a second motive, though; surely, he’s aware of how the view of his arms, muscles tightening under his skin whenever he even lightly grips something, drives you crazy. You’d bet a month’s allowance he’s doing it on purpose so that you start entertaining the thought of yelling at everyone in the branch to fuck off so you can grab him by the front of his stupid shirt so you can kiss his stupid face. Or ride it.

And for some inexplicable reason, he still has the audacity to act like there’s nothing amiss. When he looks up at you right after pushing the frappuccino towards the little girl, his eyes still brighten, almost innocent in their gaze, the corners of his lips turning up surreptitiously, hiding the smile he seems to save for only you from everyone else in the room.

You smile back, but when he turns away to take someone’s order, you let out a heavy sigh and take a long sip of your vanilla sweet cream cold brew until you start reaching the last dregs of it under the ice. Your brain pretty much cries out in protest, but you know it deserves as much as a mental cold shower for entertaining the thought of asking him to bend you over the counter at five-thirty in the afternoon in a Starbucks.

Stupid Mark. Stupid brain. Stupid fucking people in the room.

The warm breath in your ear alerts you to a slowly approaching presence, but you don’t have the reflexes to turn back to its source before it starts talking.

“Got anything to add to either of our cases, ___________?”

“What?” Your palm comes up to rub your ear as Donghyuck pulls away, laughing lightly. You’re sucked back into the foreground of the conversation, but you’re just as lost now as you had been before you started tuning them out in favor of your lust. “Uh — no. Sorry. To be honest, I know nothing about… sorry, what were you guys talking about again?”

“See, that’s how normal people act,” Jeno grumbles, both his eyes flying open this time. “Instead of hosting a presidential debate about Dynasty Warriors.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” You’re quick to add, and Jeno looks mildly amused at your attempt to still mollify the rest of the group. “I’m sure I would have liked it. If, you know, I actually had been introduced to it at any point in my life.”

“And if you had, I’m sure you’d have the taste to assert alongside me that the seventh installment was revolutionary,” Chenle sniffs, but he’s looking more pointedly at Donghyuck, who’s still ignoring him, save for the fact that he’s now looking at you instead of at his nails (which doesn’t feel like such a great upgrade).

“Nah, she’d be on my side. ___________ looks like she’d appreciate a good, scenic open world and grappling system. Right?”

“Uh…” you say smartly.

“Man, shut up.” Chenle throws his hands in the air before he stands up, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushes it back with astounding force. “Got me so pissed off I need to pee now.”

You have no idea what the correlation is between getting annoyed and needing to use the bathroom, but even if you wanted to bring up your doubts — which you don’t — Chenle is long gone before you can get your thoughts together. It’s only when he’s out of earshot that Donghyuck leans in, almost conspiratorially, to whisper to you again.

“Actually, I think the ninth sucks too. But isn’t it kind of funny how worked up that fucker gets?”

“To be honest, I’ve never known anyone with quite your talent in riling people up,” you admit, and even though you’re not sure what kind of meaning you want attached to that, you notice that he decides to take it as a compliment all on his own, his chest puffing out in pride. “Too bad I have no idea which opinion is really right, or I’d weigh in, too.”

“Not a Dynasty Warriors kind of girl, then?”

“No one is, Hyuck,” Jeno snorts, shaking his head. “You two are the only people I know who still played that past the fifth installment.”

“Fair. I nurture a love for old franchises.” Donghyuck leans back, looking supremely satisfied at how he’s managed to tick off one of his most important ‘to-do’ points of the day. “So what’s your poison, ___________?”

“What’s that mean?”

“You a Gardenscapes kind of girl? Tekken? Maybe you like some good ol’ fashioned LoL?”

“I honestly don’t have the hand-eye coordination to play,” you confess. “I know Mark likes to play PUBG from time to time. I mostly just sit and ask questions, though. The few times I tried playing with him, I swear any normal person would’ve cried. He had to babysit me like crazy. It was a miracle he didn’t throw me out.”

“She even tries to play with him,” Donghyuck whistles lowly. “Dude, how’d Mark get a chick like you?”

“Meaning?”

“You’re way too good for that dope.” His laugh is light and good-natured. “Never thought a moony-eyed weirdo like him would actually wind up with his dream girl — which he’s called you, more than once, by the way. Fucking disgusting, but… I get it. Doesn’t make it less crazy or weird to hear, though.”

“Sorry to put you through that.” You smile, using your straw to stir the contents of your cup. A warmth spreads through your shoulders and down your arms to the tips of your fingers as you digest what Donghyuck’s just said to you, and you find your eyes trailing back to Mark, who’s pulling off his apron. His eyes are already fixed on you, and when you lock gazes, he mouths a wait for me that makes you want to squeeze the life out of something in pure joy. You settle for a soft sigh. “I guess it won’t help if I say your friend over there’s my dream guy.”

“It absolutely will not,” Donghyuck groans, faking a gagging noise that has you laughing. “But tell you what — if you ever get tired of Mark playing PUBG and ignoring you like the clown he is, I’ll find you someone else more your speed.”

“No thanks,” you snort, taking the last sip of your drink. “More than that, I’d just want to be some kind of helpful to him if I ever play with him again.”

“We can help you with that too,” Jisung volunteers. “Jeno taught me the basics. I’m sure he can teach you too.”

“Yeah, and I’m guessing you’d be a better student than mister “how come you didn’t tell me I had to focus the crosshairs myself” over here,” Jeno chuckles, surreptitiously pointing at Jisung when you cast him a questioning look.

“I’m pretty good at sneak attacks myself.” Donghyuck makes a show of pretending to slice your neck before grinning smugly. “We’ll take care of you. Mark won’t know what hit him next time.”

“What’s happening to me next time?”

You feel Mark before you see him, his hand landing on your head lightly and smoothing your hair back in an idle, gentle motion to announce his presence. You look up at him, already beaming, and he returns the favor as his hand settles on your shoulder.

“We were just talking about replacing you. Both as a friend and as a boyfriend, for your poor little dream girl here who’s just too nice to turn you down.” Donghyuck lies like it’s second nature; you wonder if that’s a Finance major thing or just a him thing.

“And you’re offering that to someone who didn’t ask for it?” Mark snorts, nudging Chenle’s bag over so he can sit in the empty spot.

“She’s so caught up in your sticky little web that she can’t struggle against you.” Donghyuck feigns a heavy sigh that suggests he feels sorry for you before he puts a hand on your free shoulder, shaking his head in a convincing kind of pity. “I’ll save you, so don’t worry. Mark can’t keep his grubby hands on you forever. Whenever you need to be saved, I’ll come a-running to free you.”

There’s a tightness on one shoulder that disrupts the balance of your torso, and you find yourself leaning closer to Mark. Your hand finds its way to his knee, giving it a light squeeze under the table, and his grip loosens by a fraction. Donghyuck’s as quick to let go as he is to hang on.

“We were just talking about PUBG,” you correct, and Mark’s eyes snap to you. “I was asking for help — you know, so I won’t drag you down the next time I join in?”

“I don’t mind whatever you do in-game.” He’s quick to comfort you, even if you don’t actually need it, but it feels warm and cold “I’m just glad you wanna try it with me.”

“No, but I kind of want to learn too. So it can be fun for both of us. Also so you don’t have to keep avenging me after five minutes,” you laugh. Mark cracks a smile then, and you don’t realize his expression had been slightly harder until it softens under your gaze.

“Then I’ll teach you next time.”

“No, I want to surprise you with how cool I get. And then next time, I’ll even beat you.” You turn to Donghyuck, slightly unsure. “Uh… I can beat him, can’t I?”

“If you play different teams, yeah,” he confirms. “Trust me. I’ll help you kick his ass.”

“Or we’ll both kick yours,” Mark chuckles, his grasp now tightening and loosening intermittently. He’s massaging your shoulder lightly, and you end up sinking deeper into his side. You don’t miss the slightly nauseated amusement that passes across Donghyuck’s face nor the way he mouths ‘sap’ to Mark, who ignores this comment in its entirety.

“Yo, hotpot at seven? Renjun’s asking,” Chenle announces as he returns to your table, his phone in one hand and a crumpled paper towel in the other. “Jaemin can’t make it, though. Study group or whatever shit he always says.”

“I’m down,” Donghyuck immediately replies, and Chenle’s eyes shoot heavenward, like he’s already asking for the divine strength to not sock Donghyuck in the face later.

“Can’t,” Jeno yawns, both his arms outstretched as he tries to move the sleep out of his spine. “Pre-test tomorrow.”

“Dude, it’s a pre-test,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to study if they’re just testing how much you know before studying.”

“Gotta study all the same.”

“I gotta pass too,” Jisung looks actually apologetic. “I promised my mom I’d help her move some stuff to my aunt’s place tonight.”

“Boring,” Chenle grumbles before turning to the both of you. “Lovebirds?”

“Rain check,” Mark shakes his head. “Family dinner. My brother’s home for the weekend. How about Monday instead? Most of us can’t make it anyway. At least Jaemin doesn’t have study group either.”

“If that’s even what that weirdo’s doing,” Chenle sighs, already punching in a message to send to Renjun. “Fine; I’ll ask about Monday. You guys better actually reply to the goddamn group chat. I can’t coordinate in six different private chats ever again.”

“You can put my name down already,” Mark casts you a sideway glance, and you nod immediately. “Two names, actually.”

“I’m good on Monday too. When we see each other again, I’ll bring some prospects for you to sift through,” Donghyuck adds to you, and you laugh. “Cool guys. Jocks. I know this upperclassman all the girls say is really hot. I think I still have his Messenger from when we did a group discussion last semester.”

“I’ll have Mark look at them so he can reject them all for me,” you promise. Donghyuck feigns affront before looking at Mark in utter disbelief.

“How the fuck did you snag a girl like this, man?”

“I’m pretty sure she once told me I… what did you say?” Mark glances at you amusedly. “I had some moves, I guess.”

“You mean stutter and blush in her presence?” Donghyuck can’t decide how to look at you without being even the slightest bit offensive; he just settles on incredulity. “And that won you over?”

“Most powerful move in the Mark Lee playbook,” you shrug, grinning. “Had me from the first ‘um,’ and he’s had me ever since.”

“You lucky son of a bitch,” Donghyuck snorts, and neither of you misses the slightly abashed but unmistakable smugness in Mark’s face when you lean in to rest your head on his shoulder.

The second time it happens is on that Monday, in a far more noticeable capacity. You just aren’t quick enough to read the signs, as usual.

But in your defense (again), it hadn’t felt all that significant.

“Fuck, this is spicy,” Na Jaemin sucks air in through his teeth and lets it out in a sharp whistle that’s broken by a laugh that’s not necessarily at anything funny. Maybe he’s just laughing at the sheen of sweat across his forehead that he has to wipe off with the other side of his napkin.

Miraculously, the hotpot plan pushes through, with no small amount of effort in coordination on Chenle’s part; he’d even texted you just to make sure he’d gotten the head count right, despite the fact that Mark had already confirmed your attendance twice over. Even the often elusive Na Jaemin, who always seems to have one or another study group to attend on most nights, manages to come and is currently busy mixing his peanut sauce in his little bowl with such vigor that you can’t help but wonder if he’s not trying to drown the mala-flavored strips of meat in it completely.

“That’s why I said you need a bowl of water for dipping, you dimwit,” Donghyuck points his chopsticks at Jaemin’s messy plate in a way you can only describe as nagging, even if that’s actually impossible. “You’ve got super mala breath now.”

“Don’t know about me, but I can smell yours all the way from over here,” Jaemin quips back with an easy kind of nonchalance, hastily ducking the balled-up napkin that goes flying across the table. It lands on the floor behind his chair harmlessly.

It’s nice, you think, that Mark’s friends like to invite you to their outings now; despite all the jokes they’ve made at his expense, they’ve been consistently open to having you around. You’re not necessarily the type of couple that acts in a way that disgusts people into moving to a completely different table anyway, and you allow their conversations to unfold easily without ever interrupting, so you think that this arrangement works for all parties involved.

They’re even louder outside Starbucks, you’ve come to note; the restaurant is significantly busier than the cafe anyway, filled with people on their company dinners, so Mark’s friends all seem to want to rival that boisterous energy. Weirdly, you like it, even when they’re already half off their seats and one (Chenle) is just about to strangle the other (Donghyuck). The laughter flows freely, and there’s a messiness to the whole affair that makes it impossible to feel uncomfortable.

Even Mark pipes in occasionally, offering his opinion on topics he knows much more about than you, and you can’t help but admire how everyone listens to him when he starts to speak, even if he has nothing realistically important to say. His friends might find it odd that you’d been so drawn to him, but they just don’t know that even they’re victims of Mark’s natural magnetism, also falling quiet and eager to hear his voice, his light-hearted laugh, in response to the things they say.

But even when he’s mostly distracted by conversation, there’s a part of him that continuously pays attention to you in his own way. He nudges his ginger and soy sauce bowl towards you with the side of his wrist so you can dip your beef in, even if you’d adamantly declined him giving you your own bowl of it in the first place (you’d always thought you were peanut sauce or nothing kind of girl, but one sneaky venture into Mark’s sauce proved you wrong). His hand hovers over your head when you drop your chopsticks and bend over to pick them up from where they’ve rolled under the table, making sure you’re bump-free when you resurface.

And his palms always, always settle somewhere on you, no matter what he’s doing. If one hand is busy feeding himself, the other is intent on warming your thigh, passing over the denim in slow, steady strokes. His fingers tickle your knee when you laugh, just to make you laugh a little harder — you’d even almost kneed the table at one point, much to Huang Renjun’s alarm. But the most common place for his arm is around you, fingers lightly bunched into the side of your shirt, like he’s worried loosening his grip on you further will cause you to vanish. It keeps him close to you, keeps his scent and warmth washing over you in gentle waves, so much so that you often have to remind yourself that he’ll be the target of much light-hearted mockery if you so much as lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder.

But it’s hard to resist it, especially when his hand seems to be intent on outlining every curve on that side, passing over your hip and dipping into your waist. The motion allows him to slowly but surely lift the fabric of your shirt, up until there’s just enough of an opening for his palm to slip under, and suddenly it’s much warmer on that side, with the light roughness of his hand grazing at your skin. His fingers always stretch apart, like he’s trying to feel as much of you as he can, and the pads of his digits have a tendency to graze the plane of your stomach — his nails sometimes even travel featherlight just next to your navel, etching out words you can’t really decipher. Like he’s writing a message just for you.

It makes you feel like no matter what he’s doing, a part of his mind is always on you.

“You guys want to see that new horror movie? The Ghost Within, I think it’s called,” Jisung asks the group from over at the other end of the table, having to raise his voice significantly to make sure it isn’t swept away by the raucous laughter from across the restaurant. “I think it’s coming out in a week or two.”

“I’d be okay with it,” Renjun shrugs, although he doesn’t look enthused. “Kind of looks like a cliche horror with all those cheap jump scares and shit, but I’m down if you all are.”

A wave of assent passes over the group in general, but you notice Mark doesn’t immediately respond. You take this opportunity to lean in and confess your stance.

“If I have to sit around and watch a ghost pop out at me from a big-ass movie screen, you may never again see me in the same wonderful light you do today,” you warn. “Remember me as I am, not as I will be, Mark Lee.”

He snorts, coughing lightly as a mixture of ginger and fishcake sticks in his throat. “Yeah — we’ll pass, I think.”

“Scaredy-cat,” Donghyuck teases, and you’re surprised that Mark doesn’t come to his own defense. There’s something romantic in him not wanting to be the one to sell you out, but you suppose there’s also a kind of chivalry in being the one to take the bullet.

“Actually, I’m the one who can’t handle it well,” you smile in apology. “Sorry. I don’t have much of a reputation, so to speak, but what elegance may be attached to my name, however misplaced, is something I really want to maintain. At least until I graduate.”

“In short, you don’t want Mark to see you scream and cry,” Chenle deduces. You can’t even find fault in him figuring it out so quickly.

“Bingo.”

“Well, we can solve the problem,” Donghyuck claps his hands, getting everyone’s attention for no good reason. “__________, you sit beside me, and Mark can sit on the far end of the row. With how dark it is, he won’t see anything, and I get to sit next to a cute girl in a movie theater. Win-win.”

“Thanks for the offer,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But it’s not a win-win if I accidentally grab your hand out of instinct.”

“It is to me,” Donghyuck winks, and you feel Mark’s hand stop brushing over your stomach. His fingers curl in lightly, almost like he’s trying to make a fist but can’t quite get to that point out of personal restraint. “Or better yet, you could do what we all think you should do and dump Mark for someone you won’t be ashamed to cry in front of. I, for one, would not even bother to comment on whatever emotions you’re going through in the middle of a movie, so what do you say? It’s a pretty sweet deal, in my humble opinion. Me versus Mark Lee. The showdown of the century, right here in Hai Di Lao.”

You’ve noticed that the more Donghyuck piles onto his little teasing rampage, the more forcefully Mark tugs you over; his fingers aren’t just skimming over your skin but have now grown into the habit of gently pinching it, as if begging for your attention. It feels nice but also a little urgent, although it’s hard for you to understand why; the whole foundation of this group is built on teasing each other until someone (Chenle) snaps and lobs a bottle cap at someone else (Donghyuck), so it should be normal for Mark to be at the receiving end of some light banter.

“Should we ask the hostess to referee the match, then?” You ride along with the joke.

“No way. You’re the one calling the shots.” Donghyuck sits up a little straighter, putting on a smug face. “Okay, pick, __________. Me or Mark; who’s got the better punches?”

You make a show of acting thoughtful, even tapping your chin to pretend considering it deeply, but there was never any doubt on your choice. Still, you can’t really decipher the sudden slowness, the light tremble in Mark’s palm as it travels to your hip, where it settles, heavy, over the curve.

“It’s a complete knock-out,” you finally announce, grinning. “Championship belt goes to Mark.”

“Man, if I had a girlfriend as straight-shooting about her feelings for me as you are about your feelings for Mark, I’d propose in a day, max,” Jeno groans, half-exasperated and half-amused all at once.

“Man must’ve saved a nation or something in his past life,” Donghyuck grimaces. “No way he deserves a girl this hot and crazy about him. Hey — got any tips on stopping natural disasters or something? I could use a sexy, loyal girlfriend in my next life. Or maybe I’ll just poach yours in this one and see what it feels like.”

“I would actually deck you, so don’t even try it,” Mark snorts, his arm now winding full around your waist. You’re flush against his side, and he uses this opportunity to do something he doesn’t often do in front of his friends: show explicit affection by pressing a light kiss just behind your ear. It tickles, his breath grazing your earlobe, and you giggle, squirming in his hold. All he does is smile and pull you in tighter.

The bill’s split eight ways, but Mark’s fishing out cash to pay for your share even before you can get your wallet out from the bottom of your bag; it’s one of those quick, instinctive moves he likes to use on you, where he pushes the money and sends the bill back to the staff before you can even protest in full, so you have to settle on thanking him by returning the earlier favor — landing a peck on his cheek, which flushes a warm and contented pink the moment your lips make contact.

You just pointedly ignore the snickers that run around the table, particularly from Donghyuck and Jaemin.

The group splits ways at the front of the school dorms; most of them head in after their goodbyes, while Chenle backtracks towards his apartment building off-campus, mumbling something about how he hopes his roommate’s in because he accidentally left his key in the bowl next to their doorway. Mark should be piling in with the rest into the dorms, but he has a habit of insisting that he take you to the subway station; you’ve long since given up on convincing him against tagging along, mostly because he looks slightly hurt whenever you try to get him to stay put. You’re not going to complain anyway; for as much as you like being around Mark’s friends, it’s even better when you have this little slice of alone time despite the hassle it brings him.

Your fingers are linked when you walk under the street lights, the campus road leading to the station entrance significantly less busy at this time of evening; it’s cool enough for you to have an excuse to press yourself into Mark’s form, and he accepts this additional burden with an immense amount of grace, his arm finding its way around you again. Two minutes later, his palm is pressed against your bare skin once more, rubbing small, gentle circles just above your pelvis.

A part of you wonders if you’ll be able to do this — lean in, flush against him — when the summer heat starts to stick, but rather than really worrying about the logistics, you realize you’re more hung up on the idea of spending this summer with him.

“Sorry,” Mark murmurs out of the blue. Your eyebrows shoot up, and he looks down at you sheepishly. “Isn’t hanging out with my friends kind of driving you crazy?”

You hum in thought before shaking your head in resolution. “Not really. Not in a bad way, at least. I like how close you guys all are — and how big the group is. It’s usually just Yeji and Jisu with me, and they’re definitely not as rowdy. The change of pace is pretty fun.”

“Yeji and Jisu,” he echoes. “Your best friends. I haven’t met them yet, have I?”

“Not yet. Jisu started a part-time job across town, so we can’t get our schedules to align right just yet.” Your hip collides gently with his. “Should I let you, though?”

“One day… I think it would be nice to hang out with a less migraine-inducing crowd for a change.”

“I’ll tell them, then. They want to meet you.” You crane your neck up slightly, lowering your voice into a hushed whisper that’s completely unnecessary. “They want to know if you’re as cute as you look in your pictures.”

Mark draws back, laughing incredulously. “How do they know what my pictures look like?”

“I stalked your Instagram and showed them,” you answer simply. He throws you a funny look that’s equal parts disbelief and amusement. “They liked that one with the Spider-man costume.”

“Please don’t,” he groans, passing a hand over his face. “I should have taken that down, but I didn’t think anyone would care.”

“Why? I like it.” Your hand’s the one that manages to slip under his sweater this time, fingers trailing down his stomach; you feel him suck it in for a second in surprise before he lets out an exhale.

“I can’t ever understand what’s going through your head,” he chuckles, and you think it’s unfair that he manages to extract your hand from under the fabric while his is still firmly pressed against the side of your stomach. “You saw that and still wanted to date me?”

“Mark Lee, you simply underestimate how much I adore you. It’s kind of hurting my feelings at this rate.”

You’re just a few inches shy of the circle of light cast by the subway station sign. Your feet try to bring you forward, but Mark lingers behind, just outside the curve of soft white on the pavement, and his hand slips from under your shirt. You turn, and his hand skims down your arm instead, fingers locking around your wrist. With the slight distance between you, it looks like you’re caught in motion.

“I still can’t wrap my head around it sometimes.”

“What?”

“I just look over at you and feel like it’s not real. Like you’re going to disappear, and I’m just going to wake up from a dream and see you the next day, just some other stranger who doesn’t even know my name.” He licks his lips, and you want to reach out and kiss him already, but you know he isn’t done talking. “And I’m going to remember how much I liked you in that dream, but you won’t ever feel that same way.”

“You know I’m right here, though, don’t you?” Your fingers mimic his, squeezing around his wrist. “You can feel me. I’m here with you.”

Hesitation flashes across his face even when he nods, and you notice his eyes flit down to his shoes before looking back up at you — a habit of avoidance you know he’s trying to correct. “Sometimes I have to wonder if they’re right.”

“If… who’s right?”

“Them.” He jerks his thumb back in the general direction of the school dorms. “The guys. You know — when they ask me how I got a girl like you… the truth is, I don’t even really know. They can’t believe it, and it’s so crazy to me that I still sometimes can’t myself. So I start wondering if—”

You don’t let him finish this time; it’s rude to interrupt, you know, but you also know that what he’s about to say is probably something neither of you wants to hear anyway. Your lips connect with his, firm and demanding, and his words die in his throat, melting into a soft groan that vibrates against your skin. When you pull away, you don’t create the same distance, and Mark’s hands find their way to your waist, slightly trembling.

“They’re wrong,” you murmur, a quiet strength in your voice. “So stop wondering and just be with me.”

A smile starts tugging on the corners of his mouth, and the next moment, he’s nodding in assent, in wholehearted agreement, and the next kiss you share is one he starts, far more gentle than earlier.

“Next time I catch you entertaining nonsensical thoughts, there’ll be consequences.”

“Are you threatening me?” His laugh is colored with incredulity.

“Yes.” Your tone is firm, but your grin gives away too much of the jest. “Maybe I’ll ground you for a week, or something really childish.”

“I’d take it if you were with me.”

“That’s not how it works,” you snort, gently flicking the tip of his nose. He scrunches it on impact. “You’d be in solitary. You must reflect on your actions and all that nonsense. Meanwhile, I’ll be out having some good hotpot with everyone else.”

“If that happens, promise me one thing, then.” He maneuvers your stance until you’re both back in the blanket of darkness, just out of reach of the subway entrance. “Don’t sit next to Donghyuck.”

“And let him and Chenle give me an earful about how bad-slash-good the first Human Centipede movie was all over again? I think not.”

“No, really.” Mark buries his face into your neck, and you hear the quiet inhale as he breathes in your scent. On instinct, your hand comes up to thread through his hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp. “I don’t want you sitting there and hearing him talk your ear off about how much I don’t deserve you or that he’ll help you find someone better.”

“You know he’s just joking — and I’m just joking, right?”

“Just promise me.”

You pause, wondering if it’s in your best interest to tease him for whatever act he’s pulling, but there’s a shortness to his breathing that makes the whole situation feel weirdly tense. He’s really waiting for something — an answer. The right answer, maybe.

“I promise,” you finally say, and you know you’ve said the correct thing when Mark’s lips press a soft kiss to your collarbone, like he’s sealing in your vow.

On the third time, Mark pretty much gives up.

The strangest thing is that it starts at a time when you’re not even actually together; if you had to pinpoint the exact moment, it probably had to be when Donghyuck had walked you to the dorm from library. No — maybe even before that. Somewhere in the time you’d spent in there, he’d thought up yet another way to push Mark’s buttons. You just didn’t really know the exact minute he’d first seen you with Jung Jaehyun.

You don’t know how Jaehyun does it; he skips half his classes and somehow doesn’t even get in trouble, let alone fail. You’d only met him last semester, but he was just about the only person who was halfway familiar in your Anthropology 120 class, so you thought you could at least feel comfortable enough to chat with him about the weather or what had happened in the last meeting. You don’t expect him to strong-arm you into being something of a literal proxy for him; the first week of the semester, you’d spend almost each lecture period gnawing on your nails and fretting over the fact that your signature for attendance looked nothing like his. By the second week, you’d already come to realize that it doesn’t matter because he had only attended one lecture — the first one — thus far and your professor was as clueless about Jaehyun’s handwriting as you. By the fourth week, you had resigned yourself to being his slightly unwilling associate for his random escapades, allowing him to copy off your notes and turning in his homework for him.

Now that you think about it, that’s probably how he does it.

You sacrifice your free time for him today, caged up in a library for pretty much the afternoon. You can’t help but resent him, not just because the whole room is stuffy and the librarian keeps passing by, clucking to remind people not to litter between shelves, but also because you’d much rather do things that are important to you — like pretending to flirt with Mark for the first time when you place your order and watching him act like it’s the first time you’re saying something so sweet to him, except he’s definitely not pretending. Instead of watching Mark’s face color that cute shade of pink and that sweet little smile pull at his mouth until he’s basically biting his lips back to stop himself from grinning, you have to bore yourself with the sight of Jaehyun trying to decipher your handwriting.

“You should really be more legible with your strokes.” He has the audacity to chastise you as if he’s the one doing you a favor by giving you constructive criticism.

“You should really come to class more often,” you bite back, although there’s no real heat to your words. You just look out the window and watch the sun sink down behind the university hospital building, wondering if there’s a chance you’ll still be able to catch Mark before his shift ends.

“Would if I could.”

“You actually fucking can,” you say tiredly, and even the way he turns the page is so impossibly slow. “Can’t you just take a picture?”

“Nah; writing it down carefully really helps my retention of this kind of stuff.”

“So take a picture and then write it down carefully.”

“With your ridiculous handwriting? I’d probably fail.”

“So come to class and write it yourself!”

Your hiss increases in pitch, and it calls the attention of the librarian over to you. She swoops in, clicking her tongue, but she’s not even looking at you. Her eyes are zoned in on Jaehyun, who meets her gaze with so much innocence it’s hard to imagine you’d wanted to smack him two minutes ago.

“Jung Jaehyun,” the librarian snaps in an undertone. The slow, punctuated way she says his name suggests she knows him fairly well — and not in a great way. “I see you’re back in here after your probationary period.”

“Sorry for the trouble, Mrs. Park.” He grins up at her, looking anything but apologetic. “I promise I won’t get in your way again today.”

“And this one—” She points to you, and you point to yourself in shock at being pointed to, and Jaehyun’s pointing at you and mouthing ‘this one’ with excessive mirth in his eyes. “Isn’t another one of those girls you plan on defiling my sacred space with?”

Jaehyun says ‘we didn’t defile anything’ at the same time you say I’m going to throw up, and the librarian just adds to the noise by shushing you on top of that jumble of words.

“I’ll be keeping a close eye on you two,” Mrs. Park warns before stalking away, tutting at a library assistant for wrongly shelving a volume of Encyclopedia Brittanica.

“Please, Jaehyun,” you groan, crossing your arms over the table and flattening your forehead against them. “Just hurry up. Release me.”

He ignores you, still leaning closer to your notebook to decipher your handwriting. “I would like to set the record straight and make it known I didn’t fuck anyone in the library.”

“What’d you get probation for, then?”

“Just making out.” You notice he has the energy to grin wickedly even without meeting your eye, even while he’s still scrawling on his own notebook, and you groan something incoherent and irate once again. “What are you in such a big hurry for, anyway?”

“Has it ever occurred to you,” you grumble, raising your head. “That some people might want to do better things than sit here and watch you write stuff for ages?”

“No,” comes his simple reply. You bop your head onto your arms a few times in the hope that the impact will shake you out of this nightmare and you’d find yourself waking up in Mark’s arms instead, but you have no such luck. “By better things, do you mean fucking Mark Lee in someone else’s bedroom? That’s real defilement, by the way.”

“How’d you hear about that?” You squeeze your eyes shut and growl under your breath. “Fucking Youngho.”

“You doing that too?”

“Shut — please, would you hurry?”

He pointedly purses his lips in an effort to keep himself from letting out what you can only assume is, by the glint in his eyes, a witch’s cackle. “Almost done, man. Relax a bit. So did you guys get together — like, together together?”

You initially contemplate not telling him, but Jaehyun’s nosiness is probably going to reveal the truth to him sooner or later anyway. “Yeah. What’s it to you, though?”

“Nothing. You’re lucky.”

For the first time today, you feel like Jaehyun has finally said something right. “Yeah — yeah, I am.”

“I bet his friends don’t seem to think so.”

“Is this something you know because it’s a guy thing or because you’re so nosy that you just can’t help but listen in on every other juicy conversation around you?”

“A bit of both,” he chuckles. “Mostly just because I know Lee Donghyuck was giving him a hard time about it last semester.”

“I noticed that too — a bit, anyway. But it’s just banter, I think.”

“Probably. Imagine being his friend and getting a girlfriend; it’s like… the perfect ammunition for teasing. But I’m pretty sure half of the things that come out of his mouth are jokes meant to annoy.”

“What about yours?”

“I get it,” he sighs, shutting your notebook resolutely. It makes a thud that alerts the librarian two tables away, and she glares at you like you’re climbing onto Jaehyun’s lap in the middle of the References on the Korean War aisle. “I’ll set you free. Thanks, by the way, for letting me copy from you. Same time next week?”

“Or how about you look up the schedules for our classes and actually come instead of piggybacking off of my efforts and making snarky remarks about my handwriting while you’re taking advantage of my goodwill?”

“Sounds like too much effort on my end,” he yawns, waving you off as you stuff your notebook into your bag. “Later, ___________. Say hi to Mark for me. The normal way — not the girlfriend way, please.”

You stick your tongue out at him before you make a mad dash for the door, ignoring Mrs. Park as she shushes your footsteps on the marble. You’re so intent on fishing your phone out of your bag that you almost ram the door into the person standing behind it.

“Oh, fuck— Jesus, I’m sorry, I wa— wait, Donghyuck?”

“Great to see you too, ___________.” He rubs his jaw where the edge of the door grazed it. “You in a rush?”

“I was just about to go see if Mark was still at Starbucks.”

“His shift’s probably almost over. I’m headed back to the dorm if you wanna tag along.” When you nod, he starts leading the way, breaking the silence again soon after. “Were you in a study group, or something?”

“No,” you jerk your thumb backwards towards the minuscule form of Jaehyun, who’s now busy wasting time and space playing something on his phone where you’d left him. Donghyuck’s eyebrows shoot up. “He’s my classmate who never comes to class. I was just lending him my notes.”

“Oh, Jaehyun, yeah.” Donghyuck snaps his fingers. “We were classmates last semester. He never went to class either, but I don’t know who he mooched off of to pass. You guys close?”

“Not really. I just fell into the trap of being too nice to him.”

“It’s funny,” he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Jaehyun seems more your speed. On paper, at least.”

You can’t help but look taken aback, and Donghyuck laughs at your expression. “What do you mean, my speed?”

“Not sure.” He pauses, trying to find the right words to explain himself. “Someone who’d fit more into your social circles. Someone who probably likes Formula One and considers men’s health magazines to be classic literature.”

“That’s your impression of my social circle?”

“You know what I mean. People like Jung Jaehyun or Seo Youngho. I literally thought you were dating him last semester, so it was totally crazy to hear you asked Mark out.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Like… you asked him out. Not even the other way around. That’s ridiculous.”

“Why?” You know he doesn’t mean anything bad by it; Donghyuck has next to no filter, and something about him being unable to process your relationship is honestly a little funny. “A girl can’t ask a guy out?”

(You try not to think too hard about the fact that up until you’d cornered him in Youngho’s room, you had been praying to whatever god could hear you to convince Mark Lee to do the romanticist thing and ask you out.)

“Nah, dude. Like… a girl like you asked a guy like him out.”

“I didn’t ask him out because he was a guy like that,” you say pointedly. “I asked him out because he was a guy I liked. I wouldn’t have asked anyone else out if it weren’t him.”

Donghyuck falls quiet for a while, and only the crunching of the leaves underfoot accompanies your walk. “You really like him that much, huh?”

“I’m crazy about him.” His nose scrunches up like he’s been hit with a horrible smell, and you laugh. “Can you stop giving him a hard time? Or tone it down? I know you probably don’t like it—”

Donghyuck’s chuckle is light and easy. “I’m not teasing him because I hate it; let’s be clear on that. I actually really like that you guys are together. I’ve never seen him this happy with anything or anyone.”

“Then why are you—”

“Because he’s Mark.” A devilish grin creeps up his features as he holds the door to the dorm lobby open for you. “And teasing him is my favorite thing to do.”

You shake your head; you can’t help your amusement, but you’re not sure you fully understand this kind of friendship. You suppose if Mark is okay with it in its totality, then there isn’t much you can say to change it either.

The next twenty minutes pass in comfortable back-and-forths; Donghyuck is, as you already have learned, an expert conversationalist, and while he doesn’t aggravate you the way he does Chenle, he does manage to navigate a quick-fire kind of exchange of thoughts and information that allows you to see the speed at which he thinks. There’s barely any lag between when he digests what you say and when he responds. You suppose there’s a measure of wit in that, but it’s also a little bemusing to see someone speak without at least running it through the conscience checker every once in a while. You decide you’ve never met anyone quite like Lee Donghyuck before.

He’s in the middle of asking you what the Anthropology professor is like because he’s planning on taking it as an elective if he can when you notice a familiar figure pushing into the lobby, backpack swinging on a folded elbow.

“Mark!” The brief confusion on his face morphs into a surprised joy when he spots you on the couch, even though a bit of it lingers upon recognizing that Donghyuck is seated next to you. He walks over in long strides, and your posture straightens to meet his palm as it comes down gently against the crown of your head again; it bumps lightly, causing the both of you to laugh.

“Hey, you.” His voice is warm and fond in its greeting, and you beam up at him. “Did you have a busy afternoon?”

“Unfortunately. Did you just get back from your shift?”

“I passed by the co-op to check out the new university letter jackets. Design’s pretty dope.” He nods towards the elevator. “You wanna head up for a little bit?” You almost get to respond before your companion cuts in instead.

“Hey. Can’t you see we’re having a riveting conversation over here?” Donghyuck sniffs, making a show of hitting Mark’s shin lightly with the heel of his shoe. “Have some respect.”

“Is the conversation so riveting that I can’t take my girl for the evening at all?”

You mouth out a no, but Donghyuck’s flair for dramatics has him humphing and shoving Mark’s hand away from your hair. “Yeah, man. At least let us finish up.”

“What’s this even about?”

“How Jung Jaehyun asked her out in the library today,” Donghyuck replies easily. You start, shaking your head immediately, but Mark’s jaw slackens a little upon hearing this. Donghyuck continues loudly over your protests, and you can’t keep your voice straight because you’re adamant and yet, somehow, still laughing incredulously in your shock. “Oh, dude, let me tell you. He had his arm around her like this — and he was giving her the bedroom eyes… I wouldn’t have blamed her if she folded, honestly.”

“Mark, no,” your stupid gasp comes out as half a giggle as a result of Donghyuck trying to reenact his imaginary scenario. He’s slung his arm across your shoulders and pulled himself in, doing his best expression of a pleading dog’s gaze, which is both perplexing and hilarious. “He’s just kidding—”

“Then he got all close like this—” Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, and the view he allows himself blocks him from having to look at Mark. You, on the other hand, are still trying to resist a misunderstanding, your palms up and every part of your body that can move shaking vehemently, but you can see Mark’s face turn a violent shade of red you can’t remember having seen from him before. “Spoke all low — you remember he had that sexy, husky voice, right? ”

“He’s just messing with you,” you wheeze out, trying to extract yourself from Donghyuck’s hold, but he only tightens his arm around your neck, almost to the point where you can’t inhale properly.

“And he said ‘you’re the hottest chick I’ve ever seen—’ then you know what he did, Markie?”

Mark doesn’t respond; you’re not even sure if he can, considering his Adam’s apple is bobbing dangerously like he’s one misstep away from exploding. You laugh again, stupidly, because you don’t know what else to do; you know Donghyuck’s teasing him, and you know Mark usually takes it in stride, but you’ve also never seen the latter look so focused on anything that didn’t involve a math problem or eating you out. “No, really, nothing hap—”

You don’t even have the space to finish your sentence. Donghyuck’s too quick when he grabs your face and plants a comedically sloppy kiss on your cheek, bursting out in laughter when he pulls away. You can only sit there, probably as stunned as Mark looks, raising your hand slowly to wipe the spittle Donghyuck left behind in his wake.

“Oh, Jesus,” Donghyuck rasps out between snorts. “Your face is priceless, man.”

“Not funny,” Mark grumbles, and there’s a hoarseness to his voice that makes you feel like it’s barely controlled.

“Also not true. I just bumped into her on the way from the library. We were talking about one of her classes or whatever.” Donghyuck dramatically wipes the tears from his eyes, and you sigh, nudging him. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t resist. Man, don’t even worry. She’s downright crazy about you. Even if Jung Jaehyun had asked her out—”

“Anyway.” Mark reaches down, lacing your fingers together, pulling you up and closer to his side like he’s worried you’ll catch Donghyuck’s crazy. “If that’s all of it…”

“Yeah, yeah. You two lovebirds go moon over each other already. I just love seeing your face like that.”

Mark snorts, yanking on Donghyuck’s earlobe punitively, and the latter cries out sharply (and a little exaggeratedly) at the pain. Mark doesn’t even seem to care; he leads you to the elevator and punches in his floor. You barely have time to call out a belated ‘bye’ to Donghyuck, who acknowledges it with a raise of his palm, before the doors slide shut.

It’s a slow elevator, given that it’s an old building, and the first couple of floors pass without much noise between the two of you. You’re not unaware of how tight Mark’s grip is on your hand, but you don’t comment nor take it against him. By the fourth floor, you’re raising his hand up to your lips and pressing a kiss against his knuckles.

“Nothing happened.” You confirm his unasked question, and you see a modicum of tension leave his shoulders. “He was just messing with you because he thinks it’s funny.”

“Yeah, I know.” Even if he says it like that, there’s still lingering doubt in his voice. “Were you with Jung Jaehyun today, though? Is that why you didn’t show up?”

You nod. “He was copying my notes for Anthropology. Guy barely shows up to lectures, so he borrows my stuff. I can’t believe he hasn’t been suspended yet. Or punched in the face by the people he leeches off of.”

“No kidding.”

You step out on the sixth floor with him. Even if you already know where Mark’s dorm is, you let him lead the way, and he ushers you into an empty and dimly lit living space while taking his shoes off. His roommate barely seems to be around; you’ve seen him all of two times, and it doesn’t look like he’s here either right now. You pause anyway, listening to any signs of life just to be sure, but when you both confirm that there’s no one but the two of you, you busy yourselves with turning on the lights and plugging in the water dispenser.

You work in relative silence; it isn’t anything unusual since you’ve done this a million times, and you’ve come to learn that small talk isn’t necessary when you’re just washing your hands or opening the refrigerator aimlessly even if you know you both plan on ordering in. But there’s a weird aura around Mark that you’re not sure how to place; he doesn’t seem like he’s mad, but there definitely seems to be something off — a problem, at least, that you’re not sure you know how to ask about.

So you just try to diffuse whatever it is by completely ignoring it.

“Pizza or Chinese?” You ask, flopping onto the couch as he plugs the television into the outlet. He looks up at you, and you notice his eyes are slightly dazed, like you’ve just woken him up from a dream. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice is hoarse the first time he says it, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, sorry.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“We just had pizza, so I’m thinking Chinese is the better option. Cream shrimp? Fried rice? Not the salted fish one, though, maybe.”

You hum in assent, but when he straightens up from behind the television, you extend your arm to him, attempting to clarify yourself. “I mean, what are you thinking so hard about?”

“Nothing.” His answer’s a little too quick. A moment of awkward silence passes where you telepathically tell him you know he’s lying and he has to come to terms with his horrible lying skills, and he sighs, crossing over to the couch and settling beside you. Immediately, he tangles your fingers together, belatedly returning the favor from the elevator and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “He didn’t ask you out, right?”

You know he knows the truth, so you decide to bat your own question back at him in an attempt at rhetoric. “What would it matter if he did? The answer would have been the same, real or imagined.”

Mark pinches the bridge of his nose, inhaling slowly. There’s a red flush on his neck that’s only started fading, it seems. You reach out and skim your finger along the vein that runs down the side of his throat. “I know. I don’t like it all the same. I hate… even thinking about it, actually.”

“Really — nothing happened. If you don’t count the fact that I almost strangled him for keeping me there — which I’m sure you’d agree doesn’t count as anything in favor of him.”

“I heard Jung Jaehyun’s kind of a playboy.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Nothing. I don’t know.” His head lolls to the side, and his eyes hold a sadness that pulls at your heart. “It means he really could have made a pass at you. Or you could have — I don’t know. In the end… I just worry.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Your lower lip juts out, and his eyes widen slightly, his head shaking before his mouth can even work out a proper response.

“No — I mean, yes, absolutely. It’s — I mean, it’s just—” He inhales again to gather his wits, two fingers still rubbing his forehead. “I trust you, without a doubt. I don’t trust other people — not around you. Not Jaehyun, or Youngho, or—”

“Or Donghyuck?” You smile a little apologetically at his embarrassment, clear on his face when his eyes stray from yours. “Mark, you know he’s only messing with you, right? I thought it was a funny thing for you guys.”

“It’s not funny if it’s about you,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you. He looks up at you again, chewing on his bottom lip. “I know. I’m trying to control it. Sometimes… I don’t know why it gets under my skin. I guess it’s because it could happen — you… finding someone else. I kind of hate the thought of that.”

“And if I said I hate it even more than you?”

His gaze softens, something like relief passing over his features, but the rest of his body still holds a significant amount of tension; you know by the way he’s running agitated circles on the back of your hand. You gently tug on his arm, allowing yourself to use it as an anchor to shift your weight. Mark makes a soft noise of inquiry but says nothing more, waiting until you’ve maneuvered your body to settle on his lap.

The view is reminiscent, and you can see that the core memory you share flashes through his mind too. A small smile, still somewhat reluctant, plays on Mark’s lips, and you hate that it’s all you get right now, so you rectify this by leaning down and leaving a small, chaste kiss on them. You pull away much too soon, and his head follows in response to the distance, chasing your lips until you’re realistically too far to reach. His arm extends instead, swiftly tucking your hair behind your ear.

Your fingers close around his wrist, and your head turns, continuing the kiss against his palm — short and firm.

“Stop doing that.”

His eyebrows fly upward in questioning, his other hand freezing in its trail up your thighs. Even his breath seems to catch, and what’s left of it comes out as a raspy whisper. “Stop being jealous? I’m… I’m trying.”

You shake your head. “Stop being sexy when you’re jealous.”

The ‘what’ he seems to want to ask dies in his throat, his mouth only able to form half of the word before you interrupt, your lips taking in the rest of the syllable. When you kiss him this time, there’s a slow hunger to it; your teeth find his lower lip even before he’s able to get into the rhythm of kissing you back. You just want him to know — everything about him drives you wild, even when he doesn’t know it.

You’ll never grow sick of the taste of him, you’re sure; today, he tastes even more enticing, the hint of something rich mixing in with the stronger flavor of coffee on his tongue. It’s familiar and comforting, and it’s only when you break away, both your faces flushed from a prolonged lack of air, that you puzzle out what the taste is — the lingering aftermath of a vanilla sweet cream cold brew, one he must have prepared in anticipation of you this afternoon.

You briefly squeeze your eyes shut and thank whoever’s listening for the gift of Mark Lee.

“Mark,” your murmur, your voice much softer, intent on coaxing him into releasing his worries. “You know, right?”

His ‘hm’ is only half-there in focus, the rest of his attention on his hands, which have found their way to your ass and have started digging his fingers into the flesh beyond your jeans. You have to tilt his head up with one finger under his chin, and there’s a whirlpool of emotion in them: curiosity, desire, and, interestingly, a quiet, almost suppressed kind of anger.

“If it isn’t you,” you whisper. “Then there’s nobody else.”

You see his jaw tighten, feel his grip against you do the same, and his brow furrows, like he’s trying — much too hard, and for no good reason — to stop himself from tipping over. You don’t like that either; if he’s there, you think, you should take him over the edge.

“But if you want them to know so badly, then…” You tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, bringing the expanse just a little closer to his mouth. “Why don’t you go ahead and put your claim on me?”

You swear you see his pupils dilate right before he presses his mouth to your skin. With a low, almost pained groan against your neck, he latches his teeth in lightly, and you feel the soft sting, the increase in pressure the moment he starts sucking a mark just above your collarbone. There’s a wet, messy pattern to his movements, always punctuated by the sweep of his tongue to soothe your flesh. Even with that, his movements are slow and careful, still gentle in the way he’s handling you, but you feel it anyway — all of his tension’s concentrated in his grip, the way he keeps you close, hips pinned against him as if he’s worried anything less will cause you to disappear.

“Every time you worry, remember you can do this.” You pause, your breath catching in a lilt as his teeth dig in a little more fiercely. “You’re the only one that can.”

His lips detach with a soft groan, fingers squeezing your ass tight for a moment. Warm breath cools against the damp patch on your neck, and a second later, you feel his mouth graze against the few inches of skin, sensitive and slightly raw. “I know. It’s just not fair.”

You hum in questioning, but he doesn’t answer immediately; his mouth busies itself just under the mark he’d surely left, already starting up the same routine. You’d let him, and you want him to, but you want to hear his voice more. Your fingers tangle into his hair, and you use that hold to ease his head back, urging him to look up at you. It’s almost a mistake, seeing him like that — lips slightly swollen and definitely slick with his own saliva, parted just a little to reveal teeth he’d been desperate to nip your flesh with again. It crosses your mind that Mark has a mouth made for kissing — no, that isn’t accurate.

A mouth made for you to kiss.

“What’s not fair?” You ask softly. Even now, he takes his time in answering, his eyes falling close for a second; you watch him swallow, lick his lips, breathe in before he speaks, and all of those mundane things he does somehow make you lose your mind all the more.

“How badly I keep wanting you,” he breathes out, his eyes slowly opening. “And how it makes me think everyone wants you just as much.”

His hands leave the curve of your ass, traveling up your shirt, resting against your sides. He holds you like he’s careful in trying not to break you, his fingers spread wide to make sure his thumbs almost meet against your stomach, but there’s a smoldering headiness in his gaze that tells you he’s thinking a little too hard about wanting to break you.

“I touch you like this, and I think that everyone would kill to do the same.” His fingers squeeze against your flesh, inching upwards until they rest just under your breasts; his thumbs stroke the curved underline of your bra. “I think about kissing you and it feels like everyone’s thinking it at the exact same time. I look at someone next to you, even if you don’t know them, and I wonder if they want to pull you close, if they want to feel you against them just as much as I do. When I—”

He inhales sharply between his words, and the exhale comes out somewhat shaky. For a moment, he grits his teeth, jaw flexing in an attempt to keep himself in check. You worry he doesn’t want to continue — doesn’t want to let you hear it, but it feels so important that you can’t let it go. “Tell me.”

“When I think about fucking you,” he breathes out, voice barely audible. “Whenever I look at you and think about how much I want to feel you around me, feel you cum around me… I just know everyone else wants the same thing, and it’s driving me crazy because… because they can’t.”

It’s there again, flashing in his eyes — a determination that reads almost like fury.

“They can’t,” he repeats, his voice firmer. “I won’t ever let them. Never.”

You don’t stop him this time when his mouth reclaims your skin. You let his thoughts fuel the need in his movements, allow yourself to move only in reaction to what he does — the tilting of your head to give him more room, the tightening of your fists against his shirt to keep yourself steady. A surprised mewl leaves you when you feel his teeth pinch against your flesh again, and it’s harder, sharper this time, his quiet anger finally dictating his strength. You grapple for words, but they come out in weak gasps.

“It doesn’t — doesn’t matter,” you manage to whimper out. “How many people think that way, how much they want me that way. I only ever want you.”

His breathing is caught, warm, in the pocket of space just between you and his mouth; it tingles against your skin, tickles your senses into heightening. Your fingers unfurl, pressing against his chest, and you can feel his quickened heartbeat thrumming under your palm.

“God, please,” he murmurs, the soft peck of a kiss landing against your collarbone. “Please, tell me.”

“Mark, I’m yours.” There’s no teasing in how you say it; it was never meant to rile him up. It even escapes sweetness, the romanticism it usually comes with when you remind him on any other occasion. This is a promise to him, something you’re reinforcing as fact, something that can’t ever change. “I’m always going to be yours — no one else’s. I’ll never let anyone have anything that’s yours. Ask anything, take everything you want. I’ll never say no to you. Only you — always you.”

You know something’s different in a number of ways; his arms circle around you, but instead of keeping you firm and stable in his lap, they’re tight, squeezing a whine out of you, holding your torso flush against his. His face never leaves the crook of your neck, but you hear — feel — something there — a soft growl of need, of frustration that begs release. Suddenly, you find yourself off the couch; you barely have the presence of mind to wrap your arms around his neck and tighten your thighs against his sides before he’s carrying you to his room, kicking the door open and letting the rebound of the impact against his wall slam it shut behind him.

You’ve been in Mark’s room before, so there’s absolutely no need for you to take in the scenery when he sets you down on his bed. It doesn’t matter anyway, even if this were your first time; Mark’s crawling over you, his face flush and eyes sharp with hunger, and he looks so enticing that you wouldn’t want to pay attention to anything else around you anyway. His limbs cage you in, arms on either side of your shoulders and his knees just by your thighs, and you don’t really know why he’s already panting, but it just makes you want him all the more.

“Never,” he groans out, leaning down to nose against the patch of skin his mouth had worked on. “I’m never going to let anyone take you, ever. You’re all mine.”

His name fades on your lips, carried away by a moan when his mouth reattaches itself to your neck; it moves, almost frenzied, to renew the mark he’d left, make it a deeper red, a slightly bruised purple. You’re usually careful not to do anything that will require any attention or cover-up after, but Mark seems a little too far gone to care, and you realize you like him best this way.

Even with all the attention he gives your neck, his fingers are busy; they work on the button of your jeans, sliding them down with the help you offer by raising your hips. They only reach halfway down your thighs, his reluctance to come back up for air stopping him from peeling them off completely, but it’s all he seems to need for now.

Eager fingers ease between your thighs, two at once, pressing against your folds. You’re unable to spread your legs like you usually do, but this tightness makes you all the more sensitive, and you keen as his digits fit themselves into your slit. Frustratingly, they don’t move right away, and you have to raise your hips again just to get some sort of friction. Even then, Mark doesn’t take the hint — or, perhaps, the bait — keeping a light pressure against your clit without doing anything else. His focus is still on your neck, now slightly aching under his lips, and when he finally pulls away, you see a look of triumph on his face. He tilts his head back slightly to admire his work — the blooming dark patch you’re sure he’s left where your skin tingles the most.

“If I said I wanted to mark you all over, would you let me?”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t ask for it?”

He chuckles, tightening the pressure of his fingers against your clit; you say something that sounds halfway between ‘Mark’ and a sob.

“I want to, so badly.” He admits, gaze still fixed on your neck. “I’d want to see you walk out of here, walk into class covered in them. I’d want people to ask you how you got them, and who gave them to you. And I’d want you to say it proudly — that it was me who did it. That I fucked you all night and made you mine over and over again.”

“Why don’t you?” His eyes snap up to you, a small smile forming on his lips. “I want to say that too. Let me brag about having you. Let me tell everyone how good you always make me feel. Then you can tell everyone who doesn’t believe you, too — how I let you take me every single time. Show me off and tell them to look at how you made me yours.”

Another laugh escapes him, but there’s more disbelief than humor in it; he seems to find it amazing, that you can just agree with what he says, no matter how strange he thinks it is.

“Show you off? If I mark you in other places, do I have to show them every part?”

“Do you not want to?”

“I want to, and I don’t.” He pauses, slightly amused, and you know he’s remembering the first time you fucked. “I don’t them to see your body, but I want them to see what I did to it. I don’t want them to look at what’s mine, but I just want them to know it is.”

“Then you can fuck me in front of everyone and make them watch you ruin me completely.”

He shakes his head, even if desire flashes clear across his features. He busies himself with actions while he mulls it over, tugging your jeans down alongside your panties and casting them aside before he straightens up. His eyes rake over your form; you’re bare from the waist down, your shirt halfway ridden up, the underside of your bra peeking out from under the hem. Again, his eyes land on your neck, and his smile widens slightly.

“Can’t.” He decides finally. “You’re too pretty for that.”

You hum thoughtfully, and he raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t move, even when you sit up, shifting yourself so you can tuck your calves under your thighs — not even when you reach out to undo his belt or tug down his zipper. He only reacts a little when your hand presses against his hardness through his boxers, the girth now easily familiar to your palm.

“What about something like this?” You ask, inching closer to the edge of the bed. You’ve started slow strokes against him, the fabric creating extra friction, more heat under your palm, and you watch his jaw clench as he swallows back a soft grunt. “Would you let them watch me do this for you?”

“Let me think about it,” he chuckles softly, and you nod, letting your fingers work to make your point. You don’t have to undress him completely to get what you want; all you need is to tug down the front of his boxers to free him, and you already have him wrapped in your palms, stroking his shaft to full hardness.

“Think faster,” you urge, and he shakes his head, slightly bemused. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t even want them to watch me jerk you off?”

“At least give me a full minute.”

You laugh lightly, whispering a ‘fine’ before you press a soft kiss against tip. He inhales sharp through his teeth, already sensitive, and you waste no time in letting your tongue flick out against the smooth head. He doesn’t need the lubrication, realistically; his precum’s already leaking from the tip, mixing in with your saliva as you run your tongue around it. All you do is make him a little messier, a little slicker, your spittle running down his length.

Taking Mark in your mouth is a demanding task, but one you’re always up for; there’s something uniquely satisfying about letting him fill your mouth, inch by inch, and watching his breathing hitch and stutter until your lips are closer to the base than to the head. What you can’t reach, your hand always squeezes around, eager to make sure he feels good completely. His expression is sublime when you draw your head back the first time, sucking as you do so — his eyes are half-lidded, and he doesn’t stop the moan that falls from his lips. His gaze is fixed on you, hazy but still able to drink the sight of you in, and you’re not sure how, but you almost feel like you could get off to watching him watch you taste him.

You try, somehow, vaguely conscious of the movement of your hips; you’re grinding at nothing at first, so your knees give way just enough for you to press yourself against his sheets. It’s slightly uncomfortable, a strain in your thighs that you’re not really used to, but you don’t care; Mark’s sharp inhale at seeing you attempt to grind your pussy against his mattress is pretty much as arousing as anything else. His cock twitches hard in your mouth, and you suck just a little harder, a little messier, your head bobbing down to meet your hand, still firmly wrapped around his girth.

The room’s filled with nothing but slick sounds and soft groans; Mark’s hand has found its way into your hair, tangled into a makeshift ponytail, and while he isn’t guiding your mouth to do anything, you can feel his hips stutter then start to move, pulling back when your head does. He tries to hide it, tries to keep himself steady, but pride blooms in your chest when you note that he can’t; he wants to feel like he’s fucking into your mouth, into your hand, the way he does when he takes your pussy.

It’s relatively quiet for that time, nothing but muffled moans from you that mix in with his noises, but you only realize you’d been waiting for an answer to something when he speaks up again.

“It’s… still a no for me.”

Your movements slow, your gaze lifting to communicate your mild confusion to him. You don’t want to ask; you just don’t want to lose the taste of him on your tongue just yet. He looks down at you, smiling with overflowing tenderness, almost like he’s apologetic.

“Even just this — you’re too pretty when you do it.” His hand reaches down, thumb stroking over your cheek. “I can’t let anyone see what you look like when you’re like this. They’ll keep thinking about you doing it for them. And you’d only do it for me — right?”

You nod immediately, your response causing your mouth to slip down his shaft just a little more. It elicits a guttural noise from him, one that fuels you into sucking him just a little harder, your enthusiasm overtaking your restraint. His fingers have let go of your hair, stroking it back into smoothness, almost comforting in their movements.

“God, I wish you could see yourself; you’d know what I mean,” he continues to murmur, his voice just a little louder over the eager, wet noises you’re making. “How pretty you look with your mouth wrapped around me. How perfect you are when you’re kneeling like this for me — how happy you look when you’re sucking me off. I can’t share that with anyone. Fuck — not ever.”

Your mouth draws back, completely this time, and your tongue presses against the underside of his cock. You lick a long stripe up his shaft, moaning softly at the light throb you feel, and you watch him tip his head back. The groan that follows soon after is almost close to a frustrated growl, ending in a whispered ‘shit’ before his eyes land back on you. He watches you press kiss after kiss against his tip, coaxing the precum out even more, and you take special care to leave more down each inch of his cock until you’re finally able to release your hold on his base so you can leave the last one there.

His hand combs your hair back before it falls to cup your chin, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to gently clean up the froth of spittle there. You smile up at him in thanks, and his thumb sweeps over the seam of your lips to follow the slight curve.

“So pretty,” he repeats, and your cheeks glow pink under the palms that caress them. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Pretty as hell, fucking perfect — and you’re all mine.”

You kneel up again, chasing his lips with your own, and he locks you in his arms as his tongue slips its way past your teeth, the aroma of coffee still on it. He leaves today’s taste of him against your tongue, on the ridges of your teeth, until you feel like you’ve all but consumed him, and you whimper softly when he pulls away, urging you to turn around and lean back into his chest.

His mouth reattaches itself to the same spot; it’s like a home base for him, and he breathes in your scent from there before giving the same patch of skin a light suck, almost as if he’s worried it’ll fade in a few minutes’ time if he doesn’t give it attention.

“Show me.” Hands slide down to your hips, squeezing them lightly, like a prompt for your response. “Show me how pretty you are for me.”

His palms never leave you, not even when you detach yourself from his chest and bend down; your elbows meet the mattress, but your hips stay raised, giving him a view of your pussy. Your gasp easily turns into a moan when his digit dips into your wetness again, his other hand pushing gently at your asscheek to keep you open.

You think he’s about to slip his finger in, the tip brushing against your entrance, and you tense in anticipation, but it doesn’t happen; he continues to run his finger down your slit, careful not to linger against your clit for too long. The result is that you tighten around nothing, and you hear him suck in a breath as he watches your hole grow smaller for a second. You laugh breathily, resting your chin against the backs of your hands, one folded atop the other. “Pretty enough for you to fuck?”

“Do you have to ask if you already know?”

“I want to hear it anyway.”

His finger slips into your hole, finally, and you keen softly as he breaches the first ring of tightness. He doesn’t really move it, just tests your tightness, feels you contract around him as if to know what his cock will feel in a few moments.

“Your pussy’s too pretty not to fuck,” he manages out, and his throat sounds as tight as you feel. “Seeing it like this… makes me think there’s no way anyone can resist. It’s exactly why I can’t let anyone see you like this.”

You hum as his finger presses in deeper, and you know it’s nothing in comparison to the real thing, but you like feeling that mild stretch, the depth it reaches all the same. “How should we let them know, then? That I’m all yours.”

His finger stills, and you hum softly, swaying your hips to shake him out of whatever trance he’s in. He’s grown quiet, but there’s a thoughtfulness in this pause, like he’s seriously considering your question. You laugh lightly, ready to tell him you’re just egging him on until he fucks you, but he slips his finger out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing again. You can’t help the confused noise that comes out of you, but you at least know he isn’t completely backing away, his other hand still firmly on your ass.

“Mark, what—”

You get your answer in the thud that interrupts your question — he’s tossed his phone onto the bed, having it land next to you. Something in your blood runs hot, and your fingers tremble when you pick it up. You see yourself reflected in the blackened screen — excitement in your eyes, your lips glossy from your blowjob.

Mark’s silent as you let the meaning of his actions settle; wordlessly, he slips his finger into you again, followed by another one this time, and you shudder in pleasure at the difference in the stretch. He doesn’t ask, but you can tell he’s wondering if he’s gone too far— if you think he’s crazy. He lets his fingers stay anchored in you, unmoving, waiting for you to say something, but from where he is, he just can’t know the smile that passes your face.

Finally, he tries to speak up. “We don’t have to— I just meant—”

“What’s your passcode?”

He breathes out, the exhale quivering as much as you probably are. “Your birthday.”

Your smile only widens when you tap the screen to life and see a picture of you — you don’t even remember when he’d taken it, but it’s a shot of you sprawled on his bed, bundled in his blanket and reading something that looks oddly like your textbook for your European Renaissance History class. It’s grainy and dimly lit, a stolen photograph of you, but it makes your heart swell, and you laugh lightly as you key in your birthday; the screen unlocks, allowing you access to all his applications.

“What’s funny?”

“Just thinking about how you should replace this wallpaper.”

“To what?” He sounds bemused.

“The view of me you have now.”

His fingers curl in you, pressing down against your walls, and you push your hips back in a bid for more friction; you hear him hiss out a ‘fuck’ under his breath, and his hand digs harder into the flesh of your ass.

You open Mark’s contacts, scrolling down aimlessly. Most of the names, you don’t recognize, but you see a few familiar ones crop up here and there. He doesn’t ask, only starts pumping his fingers into you in quiet anticipation, wondering how far you’re willing to take it, how much you’ve bought into this crazy idea.

“Mark,” you call out, and he hums in response. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“With my life.”

“So if I called Donghyuck right now—” His fingers hook into you, the delicious pressure on your walls making you squeak instead of finish your sentence immediately. You twist your torso to meet his eyes, and you’re slightly surprised but not at all displeased to see something crazed lingering in his gaze. “How much of a show would you want to put on for him?”

He shifts his weight, his knee sinking into the mattress as he slots it between your legs. This change in position allows him to angle his fingers a little differently, driving down into you with a force that makes you squirm. You almost forget you’ve asked him something again until he leans in closer, his murmur almost drowned out by the slick sounds of his finger pressing into your hole.

“Just… enough for him to know you’ve always been mine.”

Your thumbs are shaking when you scroll through his contacts again, up and down until you find the right name — Lee Donghyuck — and Mark watches you intently, wordlessly, as you press his number, start the call, and put it on speaker.

The wait feels like an eternity, with Mark’s finger slipping in and out of you in a steady, languid pace as you watch the line connect, but in reality, Donghyuck really only answers after the fourth ring. “Yo, Mark.”

His voice is casual, lacking in any sort of expectation; you can hear explosions and gunshots in the background, and you’re willing to bet he’s in the middle of an action movie. You’re proven right when you hear random English babbling soon after.

“Hi, Hyuck.”

“___________?” He sounds genuinely confused that it’s you that greets him. “Where’s Mark? You okay?”

“He’s right here with me; don’t worry.” Your voice is a soft croon, and he has to lower the volume of the television to be able to hear you better. “We’re totally fine. What are you up to?”

“Watching Resident Evil. Uh, is there a reason you called?”

You want to draw out the lie of something casual for as long as you can, but Mark doesn’t let you. His fingers push, suddenly forceful, into you, and you let out a soft cry into the receiver. You look back at him, eyes wide with amusement, and he shrugs, having at least enough sense to look slightly abashed at his experiment.

One moment, you’re listening to a female voice shout something, and the next, Donghyuck’s side of the call is silent except for his breathing. When you don’t bother explaining what had just happened, he takes matters into his own hands.

“Hello?”

He sounds equal parts affronted and amused, like the shock of it has tickled him. You can’t help it; you laugh too, but it’s quickly cut off by another whine when Mark pulls his fingers out. Donghyuck makes an incredulous noise.

“Now, what the fuck is all this about, you freaks?”

“You kept wondering why I ended up asking Mark out,” you evade his question with another one. “Should I tell you why, if you’re that curious?”

“No way. Have fun, weirdos,” he laughs, and the line goes dead a second after.

You snort out a laugh, and Mark mumbles something that sounds vaguely like that was crazy before he leans down and presses a kiss to the small of your back. You make to turn so you can finally face him, but you’re distracted when his phone screen lights up again, and Donghyuck’s name flashes across it.

You exchange amused glances before you pick up the call, and you don’t even get a ‘hello’ out when his voice rings out, sharp and clear.

“But pretending I am,” he says, as though he hadn’t hung up the call a few seconds ago. “Exactly what kind of answer would I get?”

“The kind that’ll hopefully shut you up for good,” Mark pipes in instead of you.

“What’s that even going to sound like?” Already, Donghyuck’s activated whatever toggle in him that gets him to push Mark’s buttons. This time, though, you can’t say it works against you; you feel Mark inch closer to you, and a moment later, the fat tip of his cock nudges against your entrance. “I bet you can’t even get her to yawn, man.”

Mark doesn’t have to respond; you do it for him when he pushes in, torturously slow, as if to draw out your moan. It works a little too well, with you keening into the phone, and yet no part of you is acting for his sake. As familiar as the stretch is, it’s not something you’ve ever been able to commit to memory fully, and it feels like a new breaching of your tightness each time. Your legs fold in slightly, a useless movement that attempts to get you adjusted to his size faster, but Mark interprets it as discomfort, his hands tightening on your hips.

“You okay?” He sounds genuinely worried for a second, forgetting that Donghyuck’s still on the line. Your cheek brushes against his sheets as you nod, trying to meet his eye even in this position to let him know you’re being honest.

“Fucking big, Mark.” You hear Donghyuck tsk from his end, and you laugh breathlessly. “You don’t like knowing he’s big?”

“I just hate that fucker,” Donghyuck quips back easily, but there’s no seriousness in his voice. If anything, it sounds a little raspy, with him clearing his throat soon afterward.

“Well, I’m crazy about him,” you whisper into the call, and your breathing hitches as Mark finally bottoms out, groaning at your tightness. “I’m crazy about the way he touches me, the way he tastes. I’m crazy about how big his cock is, how deep it gets when he’s inside me, how he stretches me out — fuck—”

Your verbal rampage is cut short by a loud moan as Mark draws his hips back and pushes forcefully into you; you haven’t fully adjusted, and you’re even tighter now from what you’re saying, so the friction inside you is nothing short of delicious. He starts a pattern of thrusts, not bothering to build up from his usual slow and steady pace — hearing you talk that way and knowing that Donghyuck is listening is enough to get him to abandon self-imposed restrictions.

“Mark,” you whine out, accidentally pushing the phone a little further away as you reach out blindly for him behind you, and he catches your wrist to let you know he’s there. “Mark, fuck, it feels so good—”

You tighten around him as if to prove your words, and he growls in response. You find yourself having to press your cheek in a little harder into the mattress as he gathers your wrists together into one hand, pinning them to your lower back, and it’s with that hold on you that he leverages his thrusts, pumping into you a little harder each time.

You’re not completely unaware of your surroundings, but it takes a while for you to process the sounds coming from the phone’s speaker — labored breathing, the sound of a zipper being pulled down. You want to wonder if this is working a little too well, but nothing comes from your mouth apart from soft whimpers, and it’s all the cue Mark needs to be the one to fill in the relative silence himself.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, and you feel his lips press between your shoulder blades. It feels like a chaste kiss at first, but he leaves his breath there, still flitting over your skin as he continues to speak. “I’ll never get tired of how pretty you are — how pretty you always sound for me. Doesn’t she sound pretty, Hyuck?”

“Fucking pretty,” Donghyuck agrees, though his voice sounds somewhat distant. You can only sob back a quiet ‘fuck me, harder, harder,’ in response.

“Can you imagine how much prettier she looks under me?” It’s almost a full-blown conversation now, but even if Mark’s addressing Donghyuck, the rest of his attention’s fully on you. He adjusts his stance, still keeping his hold around your wrists as he angles himself deeper into you, causing you to cry out and squirm in pleasure. With your face pressed against the bed and his weight driving down into you, you feel utterly trapped, in the best kind of way. Mark, in the way he is now, is inescapable, almost incorrigible, and he pistons deeper into your pussy, his free hand brushing your hair away from your shoulder so he can leave a kiss against it. “Bent over, legs spread just a little, all for me to take. Pretty little hole wet for me, and so fucking tight. Can you imagine that?”

“I’m doing it right now.”

“It’s a thousand times better in person. Trust me.”

The same hand slips between your thighs, two fingers spreading your folds apart; the middle one circles your clit in a pace that matches his thrusts, sudden and shocking, and you arch your back upwards slightly with a choked noise. He finally releases your wrists, and you claw at the sheets helplessly to keep yourself somehow upright as the force of Mark’s hips, their impact against the backs of your thighs, pushes you forward, closer to the phone again. The stimulation is merciless, endless, and in the haze of your pleasure, you wonder if you should make Mark a little more jealous everyday if it gets him to act this way.

“Mark, I…. I’ve been— s-since—”

“Not yet,” he whispers, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as if to bring you back to reality. You shudder at the pain, the pleasure that accompanies it, and when you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, you notice that a few tears escape your eyes. “Hold out for me a bit, okay? Please. It’s not enough. Not yet enough.”

You wonder if ‘enough’ is a concept the both of you even understand when it comes to wanting each other; already, you feel desire pooling in your stomach, threatening to spill from you, and clenching around him isn’t helping you stop it the way your body seems to think it’s supposed to. It also doesn’t help that Mark’s fingers are relentless, one still drawing tight, heavy circles around your clit, and the other creeping up under your shirt to tug down the cup of your bra, letting a breast spill into his warm palm. He kneads with an unusual — but not unpleasant — roughness, and you squeak out incoherently as he tweaks at the hardened bud of your nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Hold on for me a little,” he continues murmuring, even after you shake your head and whisper ‘can’t’ to him over and over. “Do it for me. Tell Donghyuck — tell him how good it feels. How much you want to keep feeling me inside you.”

You don’t even know what to say; the pleasure that washes over you, the new kind of roughness that Mark exhibits has you drawing a blank, and you can only whine in a last attempt at protest, only for your tongue to start moving on autopilot, fueled by your want.

“It’s not enough,” you echo — and even if it feels like it is, even if it feels even more than you can possibly handle, something tells you that it’s true. “Not enough — need to feel you more, Mark. God, I want to feel you stretch me out, fuck my little hole into the shape of your cock— until no one else can fuck me but you—”

“What,” Donghyuck breathes out, his exhale coming across as static. “The fuck.”

You don’t have to explain; your babbling’s doing most of the work in that regard anyway, and you can tell by the wet, staccato noises on the other end that Donghyuck can easily piece together the scenario anyway. He’s jacking off to the both of you, something in your mind whispers, and the notion of that alone has you tightening around Mark’s cock. The change doesn’t go unnoticed, and his fingers sink deeper into your flesh; you cry out softly when you feel a jolt of pleasure as he gives your clit a sudden pinch.

“How much tighter can you get?” He sounds incredulous but also, interestingly, proud — there’s a smug tinge to his voice that arouses you even more. “Does it feel that good?”

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe out, the syllables quivering in your throat. “So good I’m going to lose my mind. Let me — God, please, let me—”

“Not yet,” Mark mumbles, and you whimper as he slows and slips out of you, his hand gently rubbing your folds in what feels like comfort — a small apology for his overt enthusiasm that you don’t even really need. “Just a little more. I need to see it.”

“See what?” Donghyuck’s voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse and pretty much muffled by the sound of his hand pumping his own shaft. Your head’s light, so your body moves on its own when Mark inches away slightly, giving you room to turn yourself around and lay on your back. You’ve barely even settled when he lifts your hips, dragging you closer to him and easing your thighs apart to slot himself between your legs.

His cock weighs heavy, pressed up against your folds, and he pushes his hips in a superficial thrust to get them to spread. His eyes fall briefly on your swollen clit, the wetness that you left on his shaft, even more of it still leaking from your hole. When he looks back up at you, there’s something triumphant in his gaze.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he coos, so lovingly it’d be hard to imagine his cock still sliding against your folds if you couldn’t feel it yourself. “I’ll never get enough of your perfect pussy — so perfect that it was made to take me.”

“See what?” Donghyuck presses, an impatience now coloring his voice. Mark chuckles, nodding at you and mouthing silently. Tell him.

Your inhale’s shaky, quivering like the rest of your body, and you don’t ever break away from Mark’s gaze, even as you speak.

“His cock fucking me in my stomach.”

Donghyuck’s ‘Jesus fucking Christ’ is drowned out by your cry of need as Mark pushes back into you. There’s no lag time now, no wait for any kind of adjustment; he takes you in one motion, until you feel his hips hit the backs of your thighs again. Your walls flutter around him, unable to process his size fully, and all that comes out of you is a string of messy mewls that’s constantly interrupted by the wet sounds of his thrusts.

Your body feels almost weightless, the only thing you can understand being the feeling of his cock pumping into you, stretching you out further. You’re only able to shake yourself out of the reverie when you feel his hands push back against your thighs, folding you in half, before they crowd atop your stomach.

“God, I need to feel it,” he groans out, his palms skimming under your navel, searching. “Please — do it for me.”

Even with your brain muddled, you don’t even have to try to figure it out; you let him feel it every time he asks. You inhale, deep and slow, until your stomach sinks, and the walls of your stomach flatten against his cock, which pauses briefly in its movements as he revels in the newfound feeling.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, and you flush in pleasure, in satisfaction at his praise. “Love seeing my cock inside you.”

He adjusts himself before he starts pumping into you again, burying his shaft all the way to the hilt each time; each thrust is followed by a soft sob from you, and you reach out, planting your hands on top of his. You obviously can’t feel his cock under your palms, but you don’t have to anyway; the fit’s tight enough that it feels, ridiculously, like he’s fucking your whole body, like he’s pressing into the deepest part of your core. You just want him to feel it more — the movement of the bulge under his hands, the resistance it has to push through to get to your stomach.

“Love feeling me inside you,” he continues, and his breathing stutters then, signaling that he’s also barely hanging on. “Love seeing how pretty you look when I rearrange your insides.”

You mouth out a disbelieving ‘what the fuck’ that earns you a simple smile, but Mark’s unrelenting in his movements anyway, his palms completely covering your stomach.

“Dude, I wanna see it too,” Donghyuck reminds you both of his presence when his voice comes through the speaker. “Put her on video.”

“No way,” comes Mark’s swift, firm reply. Donghyuck makes a noise of protest. “This is just for me.”

“Selfish as hell, calling me without really sharing.”

“The point wasn’t really ever to share.”

Mark’s hands suddenly press down on your stomach, and you stifle a soft scream; the pressure increases tenfold, as does the tightness of the fit, his cock brushing against your walls in a way that makes you feel breathless — it makes you feel used. Your hands fly up, fingers locking behind his neck, and you squirm under him, knowing fully well that you can’t escape anyway — not that you really want to, anyway.

“Mark,” you warn him again, your voice thin and airy. “I can’t anymore — I really—”

“I got you,” he murmurs — something you’ve come to learn he always says, always wants to let you know. He’ll be here until you break, until you can’t take anymore. “One second, okay?”

“Bro, what? Are you serious—” Even Donghyuck sounds confused, although his voice is tight too; he must be close, your mind weakly registers, but it doesn’t matter. Mark, albeit reluctantly, slips one hand away from your stomach — for a good cause, he must think, and you learn what it is when he ends the call, effectively cutting off Donghyuck’s complaints. Your eyes widen in confusion, but all Mark’s gaze is to you is reassuring, gentle, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips before he answers your unspoken question.

“Can’t let him hear you cum,” he murmurs against your mouth. “That’s only for me, isn’t it?”

You nod, letting the movement of it brush your lips against his. “You’re the only one I’ll cum for — the only one that can make me.”

Above your head, his phone is trilling noisily; the vibrations course through your back, weak but persistent, and for some reason, it heightens your arousal all the more. Mark ignores it completely, single-mindedly focused on pistoning into you with the bulk of his strength. His hands push down just under your navel, increasing your awareness of the feeling of his cock, him fucking you, coaxing out your climax.

“Do it. Show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.”

You don’t think it’s possible for him to inject any more strength into his movements, but he proves you wrong time and time again; the wind’s knocked out of you as he braces himself and fucks you harder, sharper into the bed, and the only noises you can make are weak whimpers and choked sobs. Your mind’s so overrun with pleasure that your climax hits your body first before your mind fully parses it; your back arches again, and you mewl out something broken, something that sounds like his name as you come undone.

Mark still doesn’t relent, the tremble in your legs somehow only inspiring him to put more power in his thrusts. Even through the dazedness that comes with all the stimulation, you can see the fine details you’ve come to know so well — the tightness in his jaw, the growing flush across his collar, the quick heaving of his chest. He’s close too, so close he’s just holding himself back out of sheer force of will to make sure he can watch you come down from your climax completely. You don’t know why he has to, but you want to see him let go too, and you scramble for words, for more touch — pressing your thighs firm against his sides to keep him close, locked — just to get him there.

“Will you mark me up one last time?” You breathe out. He reacts almost instantaneously, moving to lean down and press his mouth against the still-untouched side of your neck, but your palm on his chest stops him from doing so. Surprise crosses his face, followed by slight confusion. You squeeze your thighs against him, trying to make your point, but even then, his brow furrows. “Mark me — inside.”

His eyes widen, and his hips stutter before they resume pace, his fingers digging into your stomach almost painfully as he tries to keep himself in control. “I— no, you know I can’t…”

“Do you want to?” You egg him on, your hand dropping from his chest to land on top of his again, adding to the pressure until you’re sure he can feel every small movement, every throb of his own cock inside you. “You can, you know — make me yours, from the inside out.”

“God — we can’t; you know we’d be in so much trouble.”

“But I’d let you anyway, if you wanted to. Do you ever think about it, Mark?” Your fingers toy with his, almost like you’re having a casual conversation instead of a situation in which he’s deep inside you, already aching for release. “Fucking your cum deep into me, letting it seep into my stomach — making sure no one else can fill me up?”

“Jesus,” he growls, and he reluctantly slips his hands out from under yours to grip your thighs. Realistically, he has enough strength to peel them away, have you release him, but his hold just tightens, not really making any motion to do so. You see the thought flash in his eyes, serious even just for a moment. He thinks about it all the time.

“Think about it,” you urge, your voice soft but close to a demand. “And every time you do, remember one day, you will — because you’re the only one that can.”

He tilts his head back, letting a growl rip from his throat, and he finally manages to push your thighs apart. You let him, let them fall apart so he can slip out of you. You watch him shift upwards, his knees on either side of your torso, and you’re met with the erotic sight of him fisting his cock in front of you, urging himself into completion. You do the only thing you can think of to help; you open your mouth wide, pushing your tongue out, silently asking for his load.

“Even when you do that, you’re fucking pretty,” he groans out, and his thumb presses his cock down, resting the underside flush against your tongue as he rocks his hips. “How much prettier are you going to look with my cum all over your face?”

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out, and you don’t have to respond; he gets the answer he wants with one last thrust against your tongue, and you close your eyes briefly, allowing yourself to drink in the taste, the smell of his cum as it streaks across your cheeks, all over your lips. You hear his release as it comes too — the soft rumble from his chest, the release of air that gently whistles through his teeth.

When you open your eyes again, Mark is looking down at you, a warm flush creeping up his cheeks and ears again; he’s breathless, panting as he comes down from his high. From the daze of his climax, a slightly sheepish look of apology crosses his face, and he reaches down, seemingly without any real plan, to clean you up, only to withdraw, slightly bemused, when you shake your head.

A laugh escapes him when you shimmy out from under him, straighten up, and extend your arms upward, puckering your lips in slight demand. You think he might reject you, but Mark doesn’t even hesitate longer than a second. He swoops down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, and your thighs press together tight as you enjoy the feeling of his tongue swiping away his cum from your bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, sucking softly as if to clean you completely.

When he pulls away, his head dips into your shoulder; again, his face turns to press against the mark he’d left, and his teeth nip at the soft bruise that’s already begun to blossom. Satisfied by the soft noise you make at the sensitivity you feel from the contact, he breathes out, long and steady, against your skin.

“Just… can’t get enough of you,” he finally exhales, pressing another kiss to your neck; it’s gentler, situated just under your jaw.

“You don’t ever have to think about having enough,” you whisper, leaving a light nuzzle against his shoulder. “Just always think about having more.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, but he nods, accepting your offer anyway. A moment of silence passes, where you’re wrapped up in each other, his weight against you in a blanket of heat, and it stretches to what almost feels like an eternity — if not for the phone suddenly ringing again, Donghyuck’s name coming up on the ID. You both start, and Mark reaches over, fumbling with the sides of his device before he finds and toggles the silent switch.

“Seriously,” he grumbles, watching the call drop just for it to start up again, the screen flashing.

“We kind of left him hanging, to be fair.”

“No fairness.” Mark tosses the phone to the foot of the bed, where it lies, facedown and buzzing. “He got more than he deserved today.”

You watch him as he slips off the bed, rearranging himself before clipping his jeans button back into place. He whispers a gentle ‘be right back’ and exits the room, leaving the door only slightly ajar. You hear the water run in the bathroom, and a few moments later, Mark returns to your side, holding a damp towel.

He leaves a kiss after each light swipe across your face, as if to apologize for the pain he thinks he might be causing; you laugh, partly because it’s ridiculous, but mostly because you like it. He cleans your mouth last, even though there’s already nothing left, just so he has an excuse to leave a long, lasting kiss there.

You think it’s the last you’ll get for now, but he surprises you by bending down even further, hiking your shirt up your torso again. His hand rests on your thigh, keeping himself balanced as he presses a flutter of kisses around your navel, lingering at the exact spot that sits above where he knows his cock hits every time he bottoms out in you.

“One day,” he whispers into your skin before he looks up at you, his eyes shining. “I’ll really make you all mine.”

“Dummy.” Your voice is just as low, and you pull his head up again, enjoying the brush of his hair against your hand, the swoop of his jaw under your palm. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Every single day, considering I’ll never get tired of it.”

You hum, not one to deny him of what he asks anyway; you push him back onto his calves, climbing back onto his lap; it’s your favorite way to be near him, you decide, with almost nothing between you, almost everything of yours touching everything of his — like you fit in him perfectly. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling their soft rise and fall as his breathing steadies, and you squirm a bit, if only to make sure his arms are locked securely around you — to make sure he won’t let go. Just like that, in his arms, you say it again — a truth, a fact, and a promise.

“I already am.”

[bucks-babe]

Fuckboy!Bucky NSFW Alphabet

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: This is for Bucky from this fic. Thanks to the amazing @buckys-wintersoldier for reading through this mess and making comments; however, any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Loverboy will take care of you after. He has no problem pounding into you like you’re a toy, contorting your body every which way, he loves it just as much as you do. He knows that he can be rough with you at times, not that you weren’t okay with it, but he tends to feel a bit bad after. 

He won’t let you move a muscle, doting on you hand and foot. You need to go to the bathroom, he’s carrying you the whole way, and don’t even think about getting up on your own. Water? He’s running to the kitchen and grabbing you ice cold water without hesitation. Cuddles? Sweets, you don’t even have to ask for them. Now that Loverboy has experienced what aftercare is, it’s become one of his favorite parts of sex. He lives to be able to take care of you, show you how much he loves you. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Before he met you he would’ve said his cock, but his little gremlin of a girlfriend goes feral over his hands, desperate for them to be on you in some way. Driving? His hand better be on your thigh, rubbing your silky skin. Walking together? He better have his hand in yours or wrapped around you. Sleeping? Oh, he has to be touching you, holding you. You go crazy over the veins in his hands, drenched just from the sight of them, begging for him to fingerfuck you, make you cum all over them and have him gag you with your own cum.

His favorite body part of yours? - Your eyes. He loves to make you look at him while he fucks you stupid, struggling to keep your eyes open, let alone focused on him. He swears that he could cum just from how sexy it is to look into your eyes while you cum, seeing them roll into the back of your head, only the whites visible.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves to mark you with his cum, claiming you as his. He loves a good facial, cum on your tits and ass, that’s all well and good, but what he really craves is seeing himself leak out of your cunt. It took him so long to muster up the courage to get tested for STDs and now that he did, he has been fucking you raw every chance he can get. And he’ll be damned if all of his load doesn’t go inside your perfect cunt, fucking it back into you with his fingers until you pull away, too sensitive to continue. But he’ll still gather up the remnants and share them with you in a heated kiss after.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Bucky wants to fuck you with his balls, have them nestled in your ass while a fleshlight chokes his dick. He wants to drive you crazy, having you on your stomach laying prone, only able to hear his moans and the squelching of the toy sliding up and down his cock. He wants to hear you beg for him to fuck you, wants you to feel his sac clench and tighten before he pours his load into the toy, having you slurp it out afterwards.

He wants you to peg him while he fucks into the toy, letting your thrusts push him in. Maybe with a vibe on his sac, experiencing as much pleasure as possible, have you keep going until he taps out, not able to cum anymore. He’s going to ask you, and soon because he needs it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

While Bucky has slept with a lot of girls, his knowledge of how to pleasure a woman was limited. He would leave it up to his partner to take care of herself, sometimes even leaving before she finished. The first time he had sex with you, you set him straight, not letting him continue to make mistakes when it came to your pleasure.

You weren’t going to fake pleasure for any man, not even Bucky, so he learned pretty fast what made you tick. And for the first time he cared more about his partner’s pleasure than his own. So your loverboy is more than capable of rendering you boneless and cockdrunk.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It’s a toss up with Loverboy. Sometimes he wants you face down ass up, pounding into you, watching the way your flesh jiggles with every thrust.

“Oh fuck, sweets. Pussy’s so fucking tight, choking my cock. Wish you could see this pretty ass bouncing, sexiest woman ever, sweets.” With each thrust Bucky almost whimpers, desperately trying to last, not wanting to give up his view. He can’t help it, you truly are the sexiest woman on the planet. He doesn’t know how he ever found another woman attractive when you’re on his bed like this, taking everything he has to offer.

Rough hands grab your hips, pulling you back harder against him, hitting your g-spot every time he bottoms out. His hands slapping your soft flesh, moaning with each jiggle. More than once you’ve lost the ability to sit properly for a few days with the amount of spanks he gives you, not that you would have it any other way.

As much as he loves to watch your body, he loves to see your face even more. Sex had never been an intimate moment for him. Pounding, getting his release, rinse, repeat. But Loverboy is absolutely smitten by you.

“Good girl, let me see that pretty face when I slide into you.”

“Most beautiful woman.”

“Never gonna get tired of watching you take me.”

He craves to have every inch of his body pressed against yours, feeling more than lust.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Loverboy can be goofy, more often than not at least one of you giggles before, during or after. He still doesn’t understand why, but you love to see him swing his cock in circles, biting your lip and clenching your thighs together. He’s almost never 100% serious during sex, loving the intimacy of being so comfortable together.

“C’mon Loverboy, just once? Why are you being mean to me? Let me talk to him. He wouldn’t treat me like this.”

“Sweets, are you really going to make me do this every time?”

“He likes it, Buck.”

“Can you please not talk about my dick like it’s another man when I’m about to fuck you?”

You both stare at each other for a few seconds, neither of you saying a word, silently challenging each other before Bucky relents and circles his hips. “Thank you, Loverboy. Was that so hard?”

He stops his movements, arms by his side, not saying a word before you burst into laughter. “Loverboy, you look like that emoji of the guy standing still.”

He joins in after a few moments, not able to suppress his laughter any more. “Alright, sweets, but you won’t be laughing in a minute.”

Bucky also can’t help but giggle when your body makes certain sounds.

You groan as Bucky flips you over, raising your hips. You bury your head into the pillows as soon as you hear it, the sound of air escaping you. The change in positions always betraying you.

Bucky’s moans mix with his light laughter, he’s still a man after all, and any sound that resembles a fart will always make him laugh, no matter how hard or horny he is. “Sweets, you better get back here. Don’t you take my pretty girl away from me.”

You flip yourself back down on the bed. “You can have her but it has to be like this.”

“Sweets-” You cut him off with a glare.

“Don’t laugh at me, it’s your fault.” Bucky falls on you, a sweet smile gracing his lips.

“Not laughing at you, sweets, but it was kind of funny.”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps himself trimmed, usually using a pair of hair scissors to keep his bush tamed. He hates having a full bush, it feels weird when he wears underwear. He uses an electric razor every so often when he feels like going bald, but he doesn’t do that too often. The one time he saw you wince when he was fucking you because his hair poked your clit just wrong, he vowed to shave and keep his hair short. You told him it wasn’t necessary but he did it anyway. 

And of course you asked to watch him shave. It wasn’t your fault you’ve never seen how a man shaves his cock and balls.

“So, like how does that work?” Bucky gives you an incredulous look. “Shaving. It seems difficult. How do you not cut yourself?”

Bucky sighs, he should be used to this by now, his girlfriend being obsessed with his cock, and not just because you always want to fuck him, but because you want to know how it works. Can I hold him while you pee? Can you swing him around? Can I hold him when we cuddle? I want to watch him get hard. Can I keep him in my mouth while you work?

Bucky doesn’t mind the last one, he would be insane to say no to having his cock in your mouth. In the end, he lets you come into the bathroom while he shaves. “Sweets, don’t look at me like that, gonna make me hard.”

“I’m not looking any type of way. I’m just interested.” He runs the razor through his hair, delicately grabbing his soft cock, pulling it away from where he shaves next. “Woah, so you just move him around?”

“Well, how else would you shave the hair there, sweets?” He lets out a chuckle before focusing on his task again. 

“So you don’t get hard touching your dick so much?” Bucky laughs, almost nicking himself.

“What do you think I do when I take a shower? You get used to it.”

“You always get hard when I hold him.” He has to turn the razor off, doubling over with laughter. 

“That’s different, sweets.” He goes back to shaving, now focusing on his balls, pulling the skin tight.

“That’s fucking cool and kind of hot. You know, you playing with your balls.”

Bucky’s cock twitches at your words. “You’re never watching me shave again.”

On you however, he couldn’t give less of a damn what you do with your pubic hair. If you shave, that’s fine, he gets to feel your silky skin under his fingers. Loverboy would gladly put your lotion on you, making sure you don’t get razor burn. Of course, it’s because he has to make sure his pretty girl is taken care of, not because he wants to touch your pussy, no, he would never. He doesn’t mind the prickly hair as it grows back, one time he had the nerve to say that it was exfoliating his face for the day when eating you out. That got him a whack to the head.

If you wax, he’s going to do the same thing, treating your pussy like she was injured, doting on her hand and foot. 

“How is my pretty girl? I know, I can’t believe she would do this to you, to us.”

Sometimes he tilts his head so his ear is next to your bare cunt. “What’s that? She hurt you, ripped out all your pretty curls? Don’t worry, I’ll show her what happens when she treats you like this.”

Full bush, oh he couldn’t care less. The coarse curls don’t slow him down at all. He’ll still devour you like his last meal. So what if he may have to spit out a few hairs after, it’s worth it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

When he isn’t about to lose his mind, he’s very intimate, holding you close, looking into your eyes as his cock slides in and out. He loves the intimacy, the vulnerability of letting himself go. It doesn’t have to be soft and slow for him, he could be railing you into next week but his calloused hands running up and down your thighs, soft kisses to your face, praise, all of it, but you could still feel his unconditional love for you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Bucky doesn’t jack off too much. He was shocked to find out that you’re just as insatiable as he is, constantly fiending for his dick. He will masturbate when you don’t want to have sex, sleeping, or just not with him. Just thinking about you makes him hard as a rock and he can’t ignore it. He was apprehensive at first when you brought up the idea of mutual masturbation, not understanding why he would jack off when you were right there, ready and willing.

“Sweets, please come here. I need to be in that perfect pussy.” You just shook your head scooting to the end of the bed where you’ve already placed pillows for you to rest on.

“It’ll be hot, promise.” You started first, dragging your vibrator through your slick, using it to rub your clit in small circles. “I’m waiting, Loverboy.”

You knock Bucky out of his trance, eyes shooting back up to look at you before dropping to the fleshlight you found in his bedside drawer. He tries to ignore the aching in his core, but it just gets tighter and tighter as your soft moans fill the room. Bucky would give anything to be the one pleasuring you right now, but that’s not what you want.

Picking up the toy, Bucky groans at the sight before him, fake pussy leaking with lube and some of your slick, having rubbed it against your slick cunt first. He can’t remember the last time he used it, but he’s sure that it used to feel much better than it does now and he’s positive it’s because your pussy ruined him.

“Fuck, sweets, please, need you. Doesn’t feel as good. S’not you. You’re warm, and tight, and fuck, the way you clench around me. Oh shit.” Even though it’s not nearly as good, it still has him moaning, the toy wrapping around his thick cock better than his hand ever could.

He starts to fuck his toy faster, trying to finish at the same time as you, and he gets why you find this so hot. The sight of his girl pleasuring herself, giving him a full view of your body, has his mind reeling. And when he cums and you stick your tongue as deep as it can go into the toy, Bucky knows that he’s going to do it again with you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Loverboy is kinky and he’s not afraid to admit it. Daddy kink, breath play, light BDSM, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, degradation, praise, role play, mutual masturbation, spit kink, spanking, the list goes on. He’s down to try almost anything you want. He’s thinking about trying something you brought up, fucking you like a sex toy, using whatever hole he wants, with explicit consent of course. You want him to fuck you however he wants while watching porn or one of your videos, treating you like an inanimate object.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bucky’s favorite place to fuck you is the bedroom. It gives him the most privacy and he can take as much time as he wants with you. Alongside that, car sex, shower sex, over the desk, against the wall, the movie theater, class, and you won’t ever forget the time he decided to fuck you with all of your friends right next to you.

“Can’t fucking wait anymore. Cock is about to explode.” The whisper sends pulses of arousal to your already soaked core. You want it just as bad as he does, thinking that the movie night at Sam’s would have been much shorter, but of course the loud mouth had to keep pausing the movie to interject, swiftly causing an outburst between him and Steve.

“Slip it in, Loverboy, else I’m going to leave a wet spot on both of our pants.” Bucky buries his head in the crook of your neck, glad that you were in the corner of the room, no lights shining on the two of you.

Bucky meets no resistance at the first slide of his hips, pushing your shorts and underwear down. His hand shoots up to cover your mouth to stop the wanton moan about to leave, both of you being so horny for so long.

He keeps an eye out for anyone looking over, getting more and more bold with each small jerk of his hips. His right hand comes down to rub your clit, left helping you grind against him, juices soaking his sweatpants. 

“Sweets, cock feels like it’s about to burst, gonna be so much fucking cum, gonna make a mess.” You whimper when his cockhead hits your sweetspot, ready to fall off the edge with him. “Just a little more, sweets, yeah, give me that, FUCK, keep touching my balls, feel how much cum is in there for you?”

Biting down on your shoulder, Bucky���s cock bursts, filling you up with rope after rope of his spend, your cunt milking every drop out with your own orgasm. 

“I can’t believe yall really just fucked on my couch.” 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Sweets, you. You get him going. You could breathe in his direction and his cock will point the same way. It doesn’t take much at all. At first you thought that it was because he was used to having sex all the time and then you made him wait for so long before sleeping with him. But no. It’s just Bucky and how much he’s obsessed with you.

Over the next few months, Bucky’s appetite for you never wavered and you aren’t mad about it at all. If you want to do a little something special for him, you’ll wear a sexy pair of lingerie but for some reason, that you still can’t wrap your head around, he loves when you wear nightgowns the most. 

If you walk past him in a nightgown, you’re going to end up on the next available surface with it pulled up enough for him to see your cunt swallow his thick length.  

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Threesomes - He doesn’t want to share you with anyone else, or have anyone else. You’re more than enough for him

CNC - Bucky wants explicit consent every time. If he even senses for a second that you are uncomfortable or hesitant, he’s checking in and making sure you’re still okay to go. Same goes for any sex act. If you don’t give him a clear answer then everything stops, no questions asked

Face slapping - He loves to slap your ass, cunt, and thighs, but he doesn’t want to hit you in the face. He’s never been a violent man, maybe a little rough during sex, but never striking a woman anywhere near her face. Maybe a slap or two to her tits, but never any higher. You asked him to slap your face before and his cock went almost completely soft instantly, hating the idea of hurting you, even when you were asking for it. You both talked about it and agreed that it wasn’t something that he was comfortable with and you two wouldn’t do it

Cheating role play - Bucky wants to leave his reputation behind, not relive it

DD/LG - He likes to be called daddy, but he likes to keep that in the bedroom only and not treat you like a little girl

Impact play - The only thing that he’ll hit you with is his hands and belt, never anything like a whip or flogger

Anything that you’re not comfortable with - If he wants to try something and you don’t seem completely comfortable with, you’ll talk it through. When trying something new, Bucky will always talk with you about it first, and if you want to try it, he’ll go slow and talk you through what he’s going to do. If you like it then eventually he’ll relax and lose himself in the pleasure with you, but if you want to stop at any point, you don’t have to try it again

Certain nicknames turn him off as well, pretty much everything that has little in the name. He doesn’t want to think of you as a child. Little one is probably his least favorite

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Once he got a taste of your cunt, Bucky was hooked. He could stay between your legs for hours, eating you out while you worked on assignments, watched TV, read a book, or tried to at least, the presence of his tongue and fingers taking away your ability to focus on anything.

As much as he loved to eat you out, he loved blowjobs. The sloppier the better. It was addicting to see your puffy cheeks lined with tears, spit down your chin to your tits. You always let him fuck your face when he wanted to. He would let you take control most of the time, but when he was needy, he fucked your face like a sex toy. The sounds of your gags and gurgles were so fucking sexy. 

If he is needy, then he prefers to receive, but any other time, he enjoys both the same.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depending on his mood, he can go from slow to passionate, or just fast and rough off the bat. He always tries to take his time, drawing out both of your pleasure, but once he slides into your tight cunt, all bets are off and his hips take on a mind of their own, clapping against yours, grinding every time be bottoms out. Sometimes he likes it fast and rough, plowing into you, giving you no time to adjust, taking out his frustrations on you.

You love when he gets like that, protective and possessive, but never in a way that turns you off. He knows that you’re your own person and can handle yourself, but you shouldn’t have to deal with sleazy men trying to put their nasty paws on you. On those days he’ll fuck you until you both are too spent to get up, covered in your mixed cum, laying in the wet sheets, neither having enough energy to get up and change them.

Those days he gives you the best aftercare. Not that he ever slacks off, but something about him fucking you like an animal and then treating you like precious china after has your heart clenching and love seeping through your pores.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He used to be big on quickies, more of a wham, bam, thank you ma’am kind of guy. But now? He doesn’t like them as much. Of course he still likes them, he would be crazy to deny you sex at all. He likes to take his time with you, drawing out both of your pleasure. He also knows how you get after sex, soft and vulnerable, needing to be taken care of, and he can’t properly do that when you’re both in a time crunch. He does what he can though, making sure you enjoyed it and keeping you close to him, making sure you know how much he loves you and how good you did for him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Bucky is a risk taker, through and through. If you’re down to try something, 9 times out of 10 he’s game. He’s fucked you in class before, slowly rubbing his cock through your folds, tip rubbing against your clit. He had to bite your shoulder to stop the moans leaving him. He loves to fuck you in public, not in the open where everyone can see, but hidden enough that there’s a chance someone could walk in. 

He would never let anyone see you in a compromising position though. But fucking in a closet, corner of the library, bathroom stall? He’s down. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go for multiple rounds, give him a few minutes and he’s ready to go again. Bucky’s young and in his prime, he has no problem going again and again. Some days he cums fast, not able to hold out when you're so wet and warm around him. Most of the time he can last 15-20 minutes if he tries. But he will always make sure you cum first.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Bucky has a fleshlight. He didn't have to use it very often, always finding someone to give him his release, only using it when he was in his dorm late at night, too lazy to have real sex. But now he uses it more often, whether because you were away and the thoughts of your perfect body were too much to handle or because you wanted to watch him fuck himself with it while you touched your pussy. He thoroughly enjoys the toy, even though it has nothing on your cunt, it still feels much better than his own hand.

He loves to use toys on you, watching your eyes roll back as he pushes your vibrator harder against your clit, seeing how many times he could make you cum before you had to tap out. He’s never going to forget the first time you placed it under his sac and then rode him, not stopping when he came, continuing to bounce and grind until he had no more cum to offer. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Loverboy loves to tease you, making you beg for his cock. He’ll purposefully avoid touching your cunt for as long as possible. Licking your neck, trailing kisses down your chest, biting and sucking your tits, but never touching your nipples. He enjoys seeing you get more and more desperate, hips searching for any type of friction. And when he can stop himself from devouring your cunt, he’ll suck hickies on your inner thigh, littering it with bruises. And just when you think he’s going to lick your cunt, he’ll give the same treatment to your other thigh.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Oh, he’s loud. The first thrust has him groaning, deep and long. He’s never been one to make much noise during sex, dirty talk and small grunts when he was close to finishing, but with you, he can’t help but whine, moan, groan, whimper, all of it, you just feel too good. At first, he tries to keep it down, but with each thrust, he loses himself more and more, not able to hide his pleasure.

“Sweets, so fucking good, fuck.” He hides his face in the crook of your neck, the vibrations of his moans tickling you.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect, pussy’s choking me. Feels so fucking good.” His voice gets higher in pitch, almost as if he was close to tears, hips picking up speed.

With each thrust he moans and grunts, cock feeling like it’s going to burst at any time. “Please, sweets, oh god, can’t help it, need you to cum for me, not gonna last, please.” He will beg for you to cum, he needs you to cum first.

When his whines come, you know he’s close to cumming, doing everything he can to hold it, not wanting it to end already, but he can’t help it.

“Fuck, sweets, thank you, thank you, cumming all over my cock. Ready, sweets? Gonna fill you up, want it so bad.” Mouth open, eyes rolling back, Bucky moans and he moans loud as spurts of his cum fill your pussy.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Bucky would “accidentially” leak your sex tape. And by that he means that you both were in on it, but definitely acted like you had no clue it was out there. Bucky was fed up with the dirty looks and comments you would get, just because you were dating him. Of course, he loved it when you told them off, it was one of the first things he was attracted to - your fire. 

Bucky brought the idea up, he was going to fuck you, film it, and it would mysteriously end up on his social media. You were hesitant at first, but Bucky assured you that there was no pressure to do anything, and he would respect your boundaries.

You thought about it for a few days, eventually agreeing, but you would be wearing a shirt and the camera would only show your face. Bucky insisted that he picks out your shirt, his red henley and propped the camera up so that both of your faces were in view.

It was full of passion, kissing, staring into each other’s eyes, praise, moans, the whole nine. Near the end, you were practically sobbing with pleasure, not even remembering that it was being filmed. “There you go, sweets, look at the camera, want to see your face when you cum.”

With one hand he grabs your chin and faces the camera. “Look at you, so fucking perfect, makes my cock so fucking hard, come on sweet girl, cum for me, know you’re so close.” That’s all it takes for a wail to rip from your throat, squirting on his cock, soaking the bed and covers.

“Love you so much, sweets. So fucking good for me, can’t get enough of you, won’t ever stop loving you.” In your dazed state, you barely heard him calling out your name. Not your nickname, your real name as he filled you with his cum.

The next few days on campus were eventful to say the least.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

For starters, Loverboy is uncut. His foreskin partially covering the tip of his pink cockhead. He’s around 6.5 inches but he’s THICK. The first time you saw his cock you weren’t sure you were going to be able to fit him inside of you. You couldn’t fit your hand around him, fingers not meeting. Thick veins surround his cock, begging to be traced with your tongue.

Bucky always had large balls, but he didn’t realize how big they were until you commented on them, shocked at their size. You’ve never seen a prettier sack in your entire life, heavy and full, yet the skin was tight, leaving it smooth. They hung down, the weight of them too much to keep them close to his body, making his cock look much smaller when soft.

You’re obsessed with the way they swing when he fucks into you, feeling them slap against your skin, making vulgar sounds every time. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Bucky can go as much as you want. He is perpetually hard for you. If you wanted to, he would go all day every day. That man is whipped and can’t get enough of you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He can fall asleep after pretty quickly, but he always makes sure that you are taken care of first. He usually feels a huge burst of energy after, able to continue with his day with no problem. If you pull multiple orgasms out of him, then he gets tired, ready to cuddle you in his arms and sleep. It takes a lot to make his cock tired; however, he’s always ready to give you more.

[lovemomhatepolice]

rafe cameron nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Well, it depends on your relationship. If you're just a fling sex that happened at a party or friends with benefits, don't count on appropriate behavior after. Rafe can have any girl, so he doesn't pay much attention to it. However, if you're in a relationship together or in the pre-relationship phase and you've totally turned his head, oh girl. Rafe will stand on his head as long as you are happy and properly taken care of. Baths, long cuddles, and even conversation (something that wasn't popular for him before) are standard after your intercourse.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) I don't know if Rafe has a favorite body part in himself. In general, he thinks he is a handsome man - well, and he is not wrong. He likes his athletic arms and chest, because he pays a lot of attention to that when he exercises. He likes his face because he knows very well how charming he looks. And I think he appreciates his penis. It may not be the most beautiful part in the human body, but his… God. In you, he loves how small you are compared to him. Regardless of your dimensions, you will still “hide” behind him. He loves to see the difference in the size of your hands. He always laughs at how his hand could be two of yours. Well, and he loves your pussy. He has already pronounced her his property, so you can tell for yourself how much he likes that body part in you. Especially since you fit together like a puzzle (well, maybe Rafe is slightly too big, but everything will fit)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He loves to see you in his cum. More than once he ends up on your breasts, buttocks, belly…. Wherever he could. And the very fact that you bravely swallow everything after a blowjob each time literally puts him on cloud nine. He may not be a big fan of ending up on your beautiful face, but in the mouth is something else. D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He loves that you are his pillow princess, but there are still thoughts in his head that he would like more of your dominance. The sight of you bouncing on him has sunk so deeply into his mind that he wants it more and more… E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Rafe is experienced, let's not kid ourselves. Before his relationship with you, he had plenty of girlfriends for one night or a few times. However, the fact that he wasn't more involved with any of them definitely changes things. Thanks to you, he actually learned what he really likes and that sex doesn't have to be a purely physical activity at all. But going back - he is experienced. Damn experienced and he knows what he's doing. With his hand, with his tongue, with his cock… F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Rafe's favorite position is definitely missionary or one where he is between your legs. He likes to be in control, plus he likes that he can change the angle of his entry into you, so these positions allow him to do so perfectly. In addition, the sight of your face directly in front of him, on which are painted various signs of the pleasure he is experiencing…. Your neck, which is covered in plenty of hickeys in no time. And your lips, which are locked in a kiss. Yup G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He's not some super playful during sex. Rafe focuses on intimacy and closeness, not silliness. He's not likely to be able to fool around. Of course, there are moments when you giggle or say something funny, but mostly your intercourse is focused on the romance of the moment. H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Rafe is all shaved up at the bottom. He hates hair that would unnecessarily get in the way. And he thinks having them is not very hygienic. As for you - he would also prefer you to be completely shaved or at least properly trimmed. I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

At first, for Rafe, sex was only something physical that could give him vent to his excitement or anger. Only with you did he discover that it could also be something else, which is why he is just learning. However, over time you began to notice that he was giving you more and more compliments during intercourse or wasn't afraid to make noises. So yes, you are on the right track. Maybe soon he will even leave rose petals on the bed or light candles?

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) He doesn't do it often because you are side by side usually, however, he has something he really likes about masturbation. He likes it when you see him do it. Sometimes of himself he just makes you watch and counts down how long you can last without touching him. And vice versa - you do the same. K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) I think Rafe has a lot of kink. But such a strongly dominant one is breeding kink. Especially with the death of Ward and Rafe's decision to move out of Tannyhill and any homes that had ties to his family. Yes, this is the time when the oldest of the Cameron siblings sees himself in the family with you and your children. He himself doesn't know what kind of father he would be and the thought scares him a little. But the mere fact of seeing you in your pregnant belly with his child, Mother, it drives him so much. L = Location (favorite places to do the do) There is no suitable place for Rafe. In fact, he could fuck you even in an open space in the park if you wanted him to. You like to experiment, so your sex takes place there and then when you feel the urge. However, let's not kid ourselves, most often it takes place on your bed or in the shower. Or in the kitchen or living room… M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) There is no particular thing that after excites you in a unique way, but if you just have an attitude, Rafe feels the need to punish you for it. He hates it when you tease him, but at the same time it excites him so much that he repeatedly lets you do it. Oh, and of course the skimpier dresses he buys for you himself.

A/N: next part is already here! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[jistagrams]

best interest p.sh

pairing: park sunghoon x fem! reader

warnings: smut, zestyish jokes (Jake and sunghoon are basically In love idk), cursing, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it!!), kinda mean? dom sunghoon, pervert sunghoon, slight choking, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything!

minors dni!!

Friday 6:10 pm

what sunghoon didn't expect was to fall in love with you, living together just made him crazy, seeing you walk around in a big tee with just panties under?? yeah. "She won't even let jay hit" sunghoon ranted to his friend on facetime, "maybe shes a virgin and she's saving it for someone special" Jake replied, placing a kiss on his girlfriends head turning off his mic. "I'm someone special!" Hoon whined throwing his phone on his bed, "I guess not to her" Jake turned his mic back on snickering. "Should I fuck her best friend to get revenge.." he started questioning his own existence, hes never been this crazy over someone. did you cast a love spell on him or something? "her best friend is haechan" Jake set up his phone on the table, showing him as he put his headphones on and turning on his console. "ok nevermind. would rather kiss you than fuck haechan" "you would kiss me?" "hell no." "then why say it you got my hopes up" "..jake shut the fuck up" Jake laughs as the light from his computer reflected on his face. "yk what you should do, try and seduce her" he proposed, "that doesn't sound that bad, how would I even do that" sunghoon replies, finally picking his phone up from the bed to walk into the kitchen. "mmm, since y'all live together try walking around like shirtless or like... loudly jerking off??" Jake bit his nails while thinking, "holy shit your gonna make me get a restraining order" sunghoon laughed out loud, hearing the door unlock he quickly hung up and texted Jake "she's home, gonna take ur advice istg if she calls the cops on me you'll never see ur stupid apex acc again."

Friday 8:56 pm

he was nervous, obviously. he wasn't nervous about how he looked, he knew he looked good. he was just nervous on how your reaction would be, he hyped himself up in his room for a bit. doing some pushups till he walked out of his room shirtless knowing your in the kitchen, "yn" he spoke out to you, making you turn around to look at him. "why are u naked" was the first thing you said to him since you got home. "gonna take a shower, u cooking anything?" "Nah, I'm ordering food I'm just in here eating chips", clearly looking unfazed, "should we order something then?" He replied. Walking into the kitchen, sweats hanging low. Showing a obvious bulge, "I'll just get pizza u go take a shower, you stink like sweat" you looked away from his piercing gaze. He chuckled, "mm, ok let me know when the food comes I'll get it" he says while walking away and into the bathroom, quickly locking it and holding his head in his hands.

sunghoon : She won't even look at me 😭😭💔💔💔💔💔😢

Jake : maybe ur js butt ugly.

sunghoon : this is not helping idiot

Jake : did u walk around shirtless 🌚

sunghoon : YES BRO. even wore my baggy jeans to show extra 🤬😡

Jake : what if she's into girls...omg sunghoon I'm cooking here

sunghoon : only thing ur cooking is that burnt ass hair.

Jake : fuck u times 10 😒

sunghoon : u wanna fuck me 🌚

Jake : my gf just saw that msg without seeing the name I hope yn never ends up liking you.

sunghoon : CHILL BRO

he took a shower while blasting music, thinking on what his next plan was. he got out of the shower, black hair dripping water as he wrapped a towel around his waist. he looked in the mirror as he thought of a idea, he picked up his phone as some random rap song played, he took a picture shirtless. Sending it to Jake to confirm if it was cute or not.

sunghoon : *image attached*

Jake : wrong person

sunghoon : u fucking airhead is it cute or not

Jake : oh LMFAOOO

Jake : it's cute, who's it for

sunghoon : baefy yn

Jake : atp send her a dick pic

sunghoon : should i

Jake : yea if u wanna get blocked

as he turned his music off he heard you yelling for him from the living room. He quickly threw on his boxers and sweats, getting out as he put his phone in his pocket. "what's wrong?" He asked standing Infront of you, once again. Wearing baggy sweats but instead of them damn near falling off they are tied with the string. "do u not have any shirts or something, also the pizzas here" you handed him the money for the tip, he grabs it and walks to the door. "thanks" he smiled at the young woman handing him the pizza who was basically drooling. "can I get your number" she sheepishly asked. You looked at them in disgust, looking at the girl as sunghoon laughed and said no. He closed the door, walking back over to you, flopping on the couch and putting the pizza on the table. "why didn't you give her your number?" You asked, "wasn't interested" he shrugged, picking up a piece of pizza. Watching whatever you put on. "Lame."

Saturday 10:43 pm

he was hard. Extremely horny. to the point where he thought he might cum at barely sliding down his shorts. he thought back to the call he had with Jake yesterday, "jerk off loudly, yeah if I wanna be seen as a perv" he scoffed and slid down his shorts and boxers in one go. thinking if he should get off to a picture of you or just some random video on pornhub, he decided on a random video on pornhub. last thing he wants to be is a pervert (even tho he already jerks off to your pictures anyways..) he whined softly as he held his dick in his hand. fuck it. He loaded in on Instagram and stalked your account as his hand slid up and down his shaft. soft moans escaping his throat while looking through your highlights till he found his favorite picture, one of you and him at the beach. bathing suit top hugging your chest so well, making sunghoon's hand go faster on his already red cock, precum dribbling out his slit. His finger accidentally slipping and liking the year old photo. Shit. Shit shit shit. just as he was freaking out his load started shooting out, landing on his black shirt and blankets. his moan was loud, extremely loud. He only realized till after calming down from his high that 1. He sounded like a porn film and 2. He liked your story. He cleaned himself off with the shirt he was wearing, taking it off and throwing it in his laundry basket. Pulling his boxers and shorts up, grabbing another shirt from his drawer. just as he put his shirt on he heard his door swing open, "why you stalking me" you smirked at sunghoon, sitting on his chair in his room. "wasnt stalking you" he side eyed you as he continued to put on his shirt, looking down to notice a cum stain on his shorts cursing to himself, "I needa change my shorts. U gonna stay or what" he asked, looking at you. you turned around in the spin chair, he quickly took off his shorts and grabbed another pair. Putting them on and laying on his bed, "you can look now" he said, picking up his phone to see who texted him. "sunghoon" you called out to him, scooting closer to the bed until you gave up and laid on the bed next to him, "hm?" He replied. Sending a quick text to Jake and going on TikTok, "you should be quieter when you jerk off. not everyone wants to hear that when they wanna call their friend" you smiled at him teasingly as he looked at you before flicking your head with the same hand he used to jerk off with. You got up from his bed and left, sunghoon closed his door with his foot , sending another text to Jake. "Your dead meat."

Thursday 12:29 am

it's been 4 days since he started trying to seduce you, key word. Trying. everytime he jerked off you would just ignore it, same with him walking around in just sweats. he's at the point where he might as well walk around naked, he let our a frustrated sigh as he stood up from his bed. going to your room to get his charger that he lent you a few hours prior, maybe god was on his side or he was just lucky as hell. He opened the door to see you fucking yourself on a dildo. He feels like he could die from happiness right now, you were quick to slide the dildo out of you and cover yourself up. "Oh. My bad" he said, grabbing his charger from your side table. Your face was red, "sunghoon" you quietly called out. "what? ur not done with the charger?" He asked, looking at you covered by your purple sheets. You shook your head, "you wanna help?" you asked, uncovering your body.

Thursday 9:12am

he really has to stop dreaming of you. He woke up hard as shit, all because of that stupid dream. Like he would walk in on your masturbating? Yeah right. He sat up from his bed and groggily walked into the kitchen, he ignored you as he grabbed a water bottle and chugged it. You were quick to notice the very obvious bulge, swallowing your spit while you looked at his back. imagining how it would look after you scratched it during sex. Or how his hands would feel on your body, how his fingers would feel inside of you. Ok yn. Enough of these lewd thoughts. That's your friend your thinking of, your really hot friend. "u wanna make breakfast?" he said, his hot breath on your neck. you felt goosebumps, how did he get behind you so quick? the hell? "not hungry right now so no" you answered, not daring to turn around. "But I'm hungry" he mumbled resting his head on your shoulder. "Make your own food loser" you quickly spoke, moving quick to your room. he smirked to himself, he finally got to you. He's definitely gonna tell Jake about this.

Thursday 5:01 pm

"yn" you hummed as you focused on your show. "Are you a virgin" he asked, you nearly choke on your spit. "What kind of question is that?" You stare at him in shock. Sunghoon shrugged, not looking away from the tv. "Are you?" He asked again. "No sunghoon. I'm not a virgin. Are you?" You spoke with a small attitude in your voice, "nope" he replied, popping the p. "Are you lesbian?" He asked another question. "no. What the hell are these questions??" You shifted your whole body towards him. "So why don't you look my way." He finally looked at you, once again. Staring with a piercing gaze. "What do you mean by that" you know exactly what he means. "Why don't you show any interest in me" the fuck? You always show interest in him, why do you think you wear just shirts around the house? "I do" doesn't seem like it. "I like you yn." He finally expressed his feelings that were making him go insane. "me too" your voice was barley heard, "you like yourself too?" He smiled and chuckled softly. "No I like you too" you smiled back, feeling shy at the sudden confessions. "You know I love you" he said, scooting closer. Holding your face as he pressed a soft kiss on your lips, "I would hope so, why are you saying it so early though" you snickered, "cause I'm about to fuck you like I don't" his smile was so innocent you almost didn't register what he said, he's gonna fuck you like he doesn't? Hell yeah.

Thursday 5:30 pm

your not sure how you ended up in sunghoon's bed, laying on your back as he slurped up your juices. Spewing random shit as he ate you out, "been waiting like...months for this moment" his chin was glistening from eating you out. Sticking two fingers inside to bring you closer to your climax, and you were quick to hit it. Gripping onto his hand that was sliding in and out of you, helping you ride your high out. "that was good huh?" He smiled up at you. giving him a tired nod, he slipped his fingers out of you and sat up. Kissing your lips before sticking his fingers in your mouth to taste yourself, he was different from any other men you've slept with. No man would do this, besides sunghoon apparently. He took his fingers out of your mouth after you sucked them clean, praising you softly as he pulled his boxers down. Slapping his dick on your pussy, "you ready?" You nodded. He entered slowly, groaning out while you pulled him down to hold onto him. Clawing on his back, when he fully bottomed out you realized he was huge. Like 6 inches huge. Sliding back out just to thrust back in, he kept his quite fast pace while you rambled about something he wasn't paying attention to. only thing he was focused on was how good you felt around him, almost too good. "fuck, gonna cum soon if you keep clenching like that" he moaned out, kissing your cheek as he whined and moaned in your ear. "sunghoon" you sighed out, "yeah baby?" he answered. Lifting himself up, keeping his hands on your tits as you rambled about how good he felt. "I know love" he hummed back, sliding out. "doggy style baby" you were quick to get into the position and he was quick to slide right back in, you felt him deeper than you did just a few seconds ago. Arms already weak, making sunghoon hold you up. He was hitting places you didn't even know he could hit, "already fucked out?" He snickered, his hand snaking up to your neck to apply pressure. you immediately felt yourself let go and cum, "i-im cumming" you whined out, holding onto his arm. "I know" He replied, letting you go to fall onto the bed. fucking you harder than he already was, "gonna cum inside n ruin you for every other man" he grunted in your ear,trying to chase his own high. "fuck, taking it so well. who fucks you the best?" He moaned, "y-you" you were extremely sensitive, you felt another climax coming. it came too fast to even warn sunghoon, all he felt was tons of juice on his abs and hips. "Holy shit you just squirted" he spoke in pure shock, still fucking you as he praises you. you were a mess, tears were streaming down your cheeks as sunghoon finally came inside, "m' cumming pretty" he sighed out as he came, rocking his hips slowly. "you did so good for me baby" he slid out and kneeled down, he was quick to latch onto your pussy to clean you up. "w-wait sunghoon" you gasped out, "I'm almost done love" he reassured you, he was right. He had fully cleaned you up and laid down beside you, holding you softly. placing kisses on your face, both of you falling asleep

Friday 10:13 am

yeah. His back does look hot with a bunch of scratch marks. "does your back hurt?" You asked, embarrassed from how many there are. "nah, even if it did I think it would be worth it" he smiled as he poured coffee for you, kissing your forehead and placing a arm around your waist. maybe Jake was right, after all his advice did get sunghoon here.

[leclsrc]

you know it ✴︎ cl16

genre: porn WITH plot (for once?! everyone cheered), humor, bit of fluff... oh inaccurate depictions of the 2022 season sorry

word count: 7k

Charles is a bit disappointed the pretty girl he harbors a crush on doesn’t have him listed as a Formula 1 crush. He is a lot disappointed that you two can’t fuck.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... degradation, praise, charles is a bit switchy here lol, penetrative sex, a bit of ass play sorry...., oral (m receiving), semi public sex, yeah

title from this. i love u guys im so sleepy

Joris insists there’s some big present waiting for Charles in his car, to celebrate the middle of the season that has, and will no doubt continue to stretch into a period of conflict and strategy woes. He yanks off the beanie sitting on his head, listens to small talk drifting between Joris and Carlos as they all walk toward their cars to alleviate the bubble of nerves in the low of his stomach. 

Sure enough, there’s an unassuming box lying on the driver’s seat. Joris slides into the passenger seat after Carlos drives away with his girlfriend, his grin shit-eating and mischievous. The door is half open when Charles takes the box to inspect it. White, with the Ferrari logo printed neatly on the centre (very classy touch), the sides are signed by different members of his team. He scratches through the seal and pulls the flap open.

He’s been given a quasi-official Ferrari box of condoms.

Thirty-six condoms, at that, small squares neatly lined up next to each other. Talk about a welcoming present. Not a camera, not racing memorabilia, not a new pair of shoes. Just condoms. Thirty-six of them.

“A mid-season pick-me-up,” presses his friend, giddily. The shorter male lounges comfortably on the seat, a blissful look of pride on his face. Laughing with exasperation, Charles wedges the box shut and tosses it carelessly into the backseat, preparing to drive. This isn’t his first rodeo with weird gifts—he’s half-sure he got adoption papers from an especially excited fan once before.

“You are such an asshole.”

“It’s also a congratulations on winning literally every race so far present,” Joris adds. It’s hyperbole but has a ring of truth to it. As the season closes, Charles’ chances of holding up the trophy this year increase. 

Despite himself, Charles has a better outlook on his chances for the remainder of the season, driving-wise. He’s given it his all so far, and the rest looks promising enough. He only hopes he’s right. Netflix also increased the amount of people getting into the sport, so he’s dealing with tons more fans and nosey DMs, but it’s not too much of an impediment to a hopefully stellar season.

Charles makes a right. “Do you plan to use them?” Joris asks then, a teasing tone taking on his voice as he scrolls through his phone.

“No, not really,” Charles says, lying straight through his teeth.

“You’re a fucking liar, you are.” He whips his head toward Charles, observing his stoic side profile. “You’re single, haven’t gotten laid in months—”

“—weeks.” Corrects Charles with a cough, the defense coming at an embarrassing speed.

“…Case in point. And sports gets everyone horny. And if you didn’t know, Mattia actually OK-ed the condoms, so you’ve basically been greenlit by your boss to fuck half the world. Thank me later. I’m proud of myself.”

“Sports gets everyone competitive. Because it’s sports. Which, you’re conveniently forgetting, is my life profession.”

“Loosen up,” Joris whistles lowly. “You think Lewis got seven titles by being a closed-off celibate? It’s practically tradition to fuck around if you’re single in sports. And, for others, being in a relationship is barely an obstacle, anyway.”

Charles hates to admit that Joris is right—because he is. Racing isn’t racing without the extravagant parties that follow, and the girls and guys brought back to hotels for reasons known to everyone. People from everywhere come to the paddock and the clubs—models, influencers, actors. The pent-up energy has to go somewhere, he supposes.

But even if the little shit is right, Charles still maintains a level of dignity. Ergo, he’s steadfast in his belief that he will not be sleeping around or putting this godforsaken box of condoms to any semblance of use while the rest of the season progresses. He just hopes he won’t eat his words.

—

Monza kicks off with a 1-2 and secures Charles with a comfortable lead ahead Max.

He is high on adrenaline all night, toasting and chugging to the win, snapping pictures with Carlos, proud out of his mind. It’s everything he’s wanted and more, a quench to the thirst he’d developed over the season, a slap in the face to his doubters, a kiss on his. He texts his family, friends who aren’t present, some other people who he feels are deserving of a personal announcement, and pockets his phone.

“Now would be a great time to put that gift to use,” Carlos says at some point, when everyone in the garage is kicking back alcohol and slowly preparing to move the celebrations someplace else.

Charles cringes visibly, having almost forgotten about the dreaded gift, and totally forgotten Carlos’ knowledge of it. Even with the recent win, he’s already thinking of the next, the promise of a two-peat, another podium, hell, another 1-2. The condoms were honest to God the last thing on his mind.

They break apart an hour later, when Charles is heading to the hotel and Carlos is headed somewhere else. He’s almost to the exit when someone calls his attention in a curt English voice.He turns and finds Lewis jogging toward him, outside of his race suit and back in the fashionable apparel Charles merely wishes he could pull off.

“Lewis,” he waves, pacing toward him to save the extra few seconds of waiting. 

“Amazing, amazing race, man,” the elder compliments. “You’ve got the best chance at the title here.”

Warmth melts into Charles’ body and he offers praise back, which—praising Lewis is just about the easiest thing in the world. Nerves bleed out of him as the conversation continues, the atmosphere of a finished race a welcome accompaniment to their strategic talk. 

“Headed to a party, yeah?” Lewis asks when they’ve both exhausted the topic. Charles gives a half-hearted shrug, already energized enough from such a momentous win, and he nods in response. “Nah, I get it. Sometimes you just gotta sleep. But hey, if you’re ever free, we should go get dinner sometime.”

—

The “dinner sometime” happens in Singapore. Having gotten P1 beside Lewis and therefore once again high off the adrenaline, Charles claps Andrea on the back and retrieves his phone to view two texts. One reads Put the condoms to use yet, champ? from Joris, and the other Can I take you up on the dinner? from Lewis. One goes answered and the other goes muted on his iMessage.

A little something he failed to remember was Lewis’ plant-based diet, a fact that hurtles back toward him when he can’t find steak on the menu of this classy, hole-in-the-wall type of restaurant. Of course Lewis would know these types of places, he thinks. He’s a millennial semi-hipster with a separate Instagram account for his dog.

Charles ends up ordering pasta, and Lewis beside him orders a cacophony of very vegan, hippy sounding meals, the quantity of which could feed the two of them. “I hope you don’t mind,” Lewis says when the waiter departs, “but a friend is actually joining us tonight.”

“Sure,” Charles says honestly. As long as it’s not some deranged hyperfan, he does well in social situations. Right then, Lewis calls someone over. Charles looks up, squints through the dim mood lighting to try and make out the nearing figure. And then you’re sitting down across them, smiling softly, exchanging hellos with Lewis.

A little something Lewis fails to remember is his “friends” can just as well be called “celebrities,” because he is, after all, a sporting legend. So if Lewis says “friend,” Charles will assume it’s a “friend,” and not a world-famous model whose face is plastered everywhere on and offline.

“Charles Leclerc,” he says blankly.

You introduce yourself, sliding easily into a bout of questions, apologies for missing the race, you’re impossibly jetlagged, it’s crazy. Lewis chips in with something about how he’s already ordered food for the both of you, and this and that, and Charles is hopeless, staring at your face the entire time. He hopes he looks more sexy than aloof or, worse, starstruck, because it’s turning out to be the kind of situation where he looks like the deranged hyperfan, and not the other way around for once.

To be clear, Charles isn’t a fan of you. He just knows of you, because honestly, who doesn’t at this point? You’re talking on and on about how your latest shoot with Jacquemus was a pain because you shot in a tank top in sub-zero weather, but you express it like it’s the most profound topic on Earth.

Lewis turns to him and, in an (eventually successful) effort to include more of Charles in the conversation, goes, “She’s a big Formula One fan, Charles.”

Okay. Common ground. Charles lifts both brows smugly, his eyes flickering back over to you. “Really?”

You meet his eyes and smile, looking downward and blinking owlishly. You’re so pretty, long lashes fluttering as you blink and try to find an answer. Christ, you’re so painfully his type.

Lewis chimes in again—“Really. And not just because she and I are friends. I mean she was into racing before we got acquainted. Honestly. Quiz her and everything”—then excuses himself to “take a call.” (His phone wasn’t even ringing—total bullshit—but Charles is ultimately grateful for it.)

You make a face of shut up toward the departing Lewis, and Charles exhales a quiet laugh at your defiance. You clear your throat and come up with an answer.

“I’m not a big fan,” you say. “I’m more of a casual, ‘every once in a while’ type of fan.”

“That’s what every big fan of sports says,” Charles says smoothly. 

“Is it?” You ask, cocking your head to the side, making a tch noise. You chuckle before going, “Well, if you insist, I’ll be honest. I didn’t want it to come to this, but okay. I am a fan… of Red Bull.”

Charles fakes extreme offense, his jaw dropping as if totally scandalized. You laugh, throwing two hands up in faux surrender. “Not Red Bull,” he says, his tone making him sound even more devastated. “You’re telling me you—don’t tell me you think Max Verstappen is attractive.”

“I mean, a bit!”

Charles makes sarcastic sounds of disapproval, and you laugh. Charles leans forward, and you do, too, both of you smiling. “So you’re into the angry drivers?”

“I’m not into a specific kind of driver,” you say casually, your tongue peeking out to lick over your bottom lip. Your voice is as soft as it is firm, slow and demure, matching the way your eyes glint. You’re impossibly pretty. He almost can’t handle it.

“So who’s making the cut?” He prompts, interested.

“Well, for starters, drivers who are my age,” you say slowly. “I turned twenty-four this year, so anyone within that bracket.”

“Oh?” Charles pretends to delve into deep thought, teasing. “Maybe Stroll? He’s very funny, speaks good English. You can never really say no to a Canadian.”

Your face warms, and you hope your flustered state isn’t too obvious as you shake your head. “He seems fun, but I prefer somebody a bit… a bit older.”

“Older…” he hums. “Pierre, perhaps? Tad bit older, real charming, great driver. I can introduce you. We’re good friends, you know.”

You click your tongue, smiling shyly. You bite your lip and it takes everything in Charles to not turn on his horny gears when he sees you, big eyes and lip bite, look so pretty. “You tease me,” you say meekly. Charles covers a cough with a chuckle and adjusts his position on the seat.

Later, after Lewis comes back in (“Long call, eh? It was about Roscoe.” Bullshit again) and you all get to order drinks, and you’ve departed in your private car, pressing an air kiss to Lewis and waving goodbye to Charles, he turns to the Mercedes driver and hums.

“Next time you have one of these”—he points to the restaurant, gestures to the front door—“dinners, let me know, okay?”

“Ah.” Lewis winks, smirking. “I’ll be sure to.”

—

Understandably, your schedules never seem to mesh well together. Lewis ends up giving Charles your number as compensation.

He stares at the contact longer than he’d like to admit, when he’s marinating in the sweltering heat of Austin. He’s finished much of his work for this half of the day so he’s mostly watching the engineers work on the last bits of modification for Sunday; he cherishest the free time and drafts, reads, and rereads texts, scours Google and Instagram for pictures of, and anything related to, you.

There’s a few new articles about buying a new car (a Benz, much to Charles’ chagrin) and new photoshoots intermittently scattered across Europe, with all sorts of brands. He sees a picture you’ve posted of yourself smiling at the camera and thinks of how pretty it would look as his lockscreen. 

Am I seeing you soon? He texts finally. He hopes it’s enough to let you know who he is.

Hopefully is the reply. He smiles the whole day.

—

You’ve been texting and calling almost everyday, conversations stretching continents. He only sees you next in Mexico, Friday night, at a club Lewis has rented out for a crazy price that will no doubt be replenished in days anyway. He’s dropped to second here, but the thrill riding in him makes up for his disappointment. The place is so crowded—everyone and their mums seem to have been invited here—room blinking purple and blue, each step vibrating with the heavy bass of EDM. He catches you right as you exit the washroom area, and you look pleasantly surprised to see him.

He saw you earlier, when you were doing shots of tequila and chatting with with Bella and Lewis, but just as quickly as he spotted you, you’d dipped back into the sea of people. Now is better, he thinks. You two are alone.

“Charles, hi,” you say casually. You’re wearing a tight top and a short skirt that, despite Charles’ best efforts, always cast his gaze downward. He wonders what’s underneath, hungers to get his hands there. But he’s nothing if he’s not patient, willing to play the long game.

He takes a step forward, his gaze steady on you. Charles isn’t the tallest driver, but he’s got a big presence. You swallow, taking a step back to accommodate him. He smirks. “You look pretty.” 

“You flatter me,” you say thickly, smiling, inviting him closer. The air is hot around the both of you—when your eyes flit around, they see nobody. You’re alone together. His eyes pierce into yours so deep you feel like breaking eye contact, exhaling as you take another step back—evidently, you’re distracted, because you stumble.

His arm circles around your waist, and once you steady, the hand moves down to your hip. It stays, a reminder of what you might be getting soon. You smile curtly, wondering what this might look like to a bystander, a stranger. Somebody might want to piss and walk in to see the strongest world champion contender’s hand on Chanel’s poster girl’s waist.

“Is this okay?” He asks softly against your ear.

“More than.” You say, breath shaky. “It’s more than okay.”

He chuckles. “Good. I’d hate if we couldn’t fuck before Abu Dhabi.”

Your finger traces down and wraps around the belt loop of his jeans. “Who said anything about fucking?”

Charles exhales a laugh, his lips curling upward into an amused smile. “Ah? I can’t fuck you, then?”

“I’ll let you fuck me when you’re holding up the world champion trophy,” you say sweetly, tugging him closer. “That’s okay, right?” You stare up at him, blinking, pouty. He wonders, is this how you might look with your lips wrapped around his—

“That’s about a month away.” His composure barely wavers, his hand traveling lower, blunt nails digging into your ass. Your breath hitches. 

“I’m aware,” you say lowly. So be it, Charles thinks—he’s got thirty-six condoms for a reason.

“Define fuck,” he says, voice rough.

“Penetration.” You’re quick with it, cocking your head to the side. You lean back confidently, testin him, eyes batting flirtatiously. 

It’s time he get a little creative.

—

Daytime weather is hot and the paddock is swarming with people, but Charles has his sights set on somebody sitting in the Mercedes hospitality. He manages to get out of morning meetings earlier, wedging himself out of the room and passing by a mirror to fix his hair with admirable concentration. He’s in the middle of combing through it when a force tugs at the hem of his polo, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Uh—Carlos? What the hell?” He asks, brow raised defensively. Facing him are Carlos, Joris, and Pierre, arms crossed over their torsos and amused expressions on their faces.

“What are you doing?” Asks Pierre, cocking his head to the side.

“Fixing my hair.” 

“Pussy appointment?” Joris interjects; the vulgarity of his statement earns him a poke on the side from Carlos, who clicks his tongue.

“Wh—I don’t—”

“You are shit at lying, mate,” says Pierre, his lips curled into a devious smile. “Who is it?”

“It’s nobody,” he lies.

“Charles,” says Lewis suddenly from behind them, waving his arms to get the former’s attention, “are you going to go over and say hi?”

Hook, line, and sinker. He’s been caught. “Well, well, well,” Carlos starts, mischievous.

“Guys—” Charles says, attempting to make an excuse.

“Looks like your vow of celibacy isn’t so far off after all,” Pierre adds. “That one over at Mercedes is going to break it, eh?”

“Yeah.” Joris says, smirking.  “Lucky George, huh.”

The three face him, incredulous. “I was kidding,” he fibs, once he realizes his epiphany is wrong. “Kidding.”

Charles walks off, and ends up seeing you right where he expected you, sitting beside Lewis in a tiny dress with your hair pinned up into a bun. Almost naturally, your words fall into the flirtatious back-and-forth you’d started at the dinner, hyperaware of the cameras snapping your pictures. At some point, the Brit excuses himself to “take a call” (again, bullshit) and leaves the two of you alone.

“See anything nice on the paddock?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with a teasing smile, head cocking to the side to gauge his reaction. He chuckles.

“Did you get a picture with Max?”

“Only a ton.” You pause. “And Daniel, too.”

“Ah, you’re just crushing on the whole paddock, now are you?” He pokes his tongue into his cheek, leans forward.” Uh, Checo?”

“Pass,” you say with a nose scrunch. You’re so fucking pretty.

“Lewis.”

“God, pass. He’s not ugly, but he’s my brother at this point.”

“Pierre.”

“Horribly French, but… smash.”

“Are you not into the French?” He smiles. “Good to know. Hmm—Carlos.”

“I’d be stupid to say anything other than smash.” You narrow your eyes, licking over your lips. “I’m into the Ferrari guys, is the thing.” His gaze travels to your crossed legs, long and disappearing into the hem of your dress.

He smirks. “Are you?”

“I really am,” you hum.

“Are you staying long? All weekend?”

“Yeah, I’m free from work for now,” you say casually. “Any recommendations on what fun things I can do here?”

“I can think of…” he says, smirking a little. “A few.”

—

Stupid places to have sex, number one: a motorhome.

Still, Charles is crowding you up against the wall of the room, swallowing the whimper that leaves your mouth with his own. And still, this isn’t sex. At least not the kind he wants the most. He mentally praises Carlos for being able to decipher the typo-laden text he’d sent out on the way here, one hand around your waist, the other barely capable of typing with how fast his brain ran. Clesr the fuckng room npw now npw it read. Thank God.

Your mouth tastes like champagne, and everywhere else smells divine. Your hands roam impatiently over his shoulders and you make muted noises of frustration at your inability to pull his shirt off. You settle for letting your hands crawl underneath it, stroking over his abs.

“D’you remember what I told you,” you pant, his lips insistent on your neck, “at the club?”

“Yeah,” he says, grunting at the memory.

“Okay.” You breathe. “Let me suck you off.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “Jesus. Okay. Fuck.”

You giggle, and he watches intently as you drop onto your knees, looking up at him through thick lashes. You’re insistent, pulling the zip of his jeans down and tugging his cock out. It’s pretty, thick like the rest of him, already hard. 

He’s at his limit, having you here like this, on you knees and stretching your lips around the tip of his dick. Your eyes barely leave his, fluttering as they tear up when you take him in your throat.

He throws his head back, squeezes his eyes shut, lets a hand unpin your bun and thread itself into the untangled hair. If he looks at you, he’ll see your head bobbing up and down on his cock, and he genuinely needs to hold off the orgasm first.

He rocks forward into your mouth and feels your throat close up around him. That’s enough to weaken his resolve, send grunts out of his throat that he can’t keep quiet.

“Oh, shit,” he says, feeling every part of your mouth and throat around him, warm and tense. He can’t help but thrust harder, steady but not too rough, growing more aroused with every sound of you choking on him.

His gaze flickers toward you. You’re teary-eyed, lips dotted with spit, choking yourself on his cock. Just for him, here in public. You pull off, blinking tears away from your face and looking up at him smilingly.

He laughs, guiding his cock back into your mouth, watching the way your brows knit together, pleading, almost. You're at his mercy, he thinks, thrusting harder, listening to your coughs. He loves seeing you like this, innocent face messy and slick with spit and precum, eyes big and needy.

“You like that?” He grunts. “Look at me.”

You nod the best you can. Yes, you want to say. Give me more, I love it.

“Yeaaah, fuck. I know you do,” he says through his teeth, staving off his orgasm the best he can before he releases all over you. The image alone of streaking you with his cum, claiming you all over-eyelashes, tits, cheeks splashed with cum-is enough to send him closer to the edge. “Gonna cum,” he grunts.

You moan around him, the vibrations causing his eyelids to flutter. You shake your head, pulling off and wrapping your hand around his dick, stroking slower. “Not yet,” you say sweetly, watching him throw his head back in pleasure and frustration. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, exhales shakily.

“Shit.” He whines. “Come on, baby. Make me cum.” He cups your jaw, stares down at you.

You stroke him faster, lip between your teeth. “Okay,” you say with a smile. “Cum for me, Charles.”

He stops staving himself off, falls into the pleasure and relief of your hand around his cock until he’s tense all over, knitting his hand into your hair and pushing you backwards so he can press his tip on the flat expanse of your tongue and let his cum shoot there. It drips from your tongue and lips onto your chin and you giggle, swallowing it, scooping up the rest to push into your mouth.

You stand, licking your lips slowly. “I owe you,” he pants, zipping himself up. Already he’s thinking about what he can do to you in return. Tease you, like you did him, bend you over his lap or sit you on it and make you whine and writhe and wait and cum. 

“I’ll hold you to that, champion,” you murmur, kissing his cheek and slipping back outside.

—

Ferrari’s advice is shit and despite his good mood and quick-witted driving, Charles finishes in fifth—not too shabby, but disastrous for his overall standings.

He suffers through a horrible debrief where attempts to defend his honor go unheard, his mood wilting and wilting until he’s at the media pen and ushered in front of some network he hasn’t heard of. They’ve probably paid to get a good seat here.

He’s in a shit mood, he hasn’t seen Joris or Pierre or you in hours, and has only faced red-faced frustrated superiors and now, wide-eyed journalists with loose mouths. The media’s done the mandatory speculation between the two of you, so he already expects questions of that variety, but it’s still hot and angry when he does.

Are you banging the Marc Jacobs model? The Irish reporter asks with a wink, so very unprofessional and not at all belonging to reputable media. The hot leggy one who has fuck me eyes?

Charles clenches his jaw, rolls his eyes, says fuck off mate and shoves him backward a little, then walks away and readjusts his cap. The clip makes Twitter and he feels even worse with the amount of troll accounts telling him to Jeez, take a joke.

After the ordeal, in your hotel room, you sigh softly and run your hands through his still shampoo-smelling hair. “You didn’t need to do that,” you say, a bit strictly. He knows you’re grateful, though, and a bit proud.

“I wanted to,” he insists softly. He forgets to leave before morning; when he does, he forgets his official Ferrari shirt hanging on the seat, leaving in a spare one instead. It’s got his number across the back. You don’t tell him.

—

In between Mexico and Sao Paulo, he manages to catch a flight to New York to peek into one of your photoshoots. It’s for Chanel and he’s half-sure he’s taken more pictures of you than the official photographer did. At this point your vague relationship status has caught onto headlines everywhere, and he doesn’t miss the curious murmurs from paparazzo that follow him as he enters your apartment later to greet you.

You’re in a pair of shorts and a tank top when you open the door, greeting him with a tight hug and leading him inside with a loose grip.

“Wine?”

“Please.” He eyes the wide area, the big floor-to-ceiling windows and the art on the walls. “Hungry?”

“Mmm.” You hum, sliding a glass toward him. “Starving.”

“Pizza?”

“Something else.” You smile. He tears his eyes away from your tits, poking out of the thin cotton, and coughs.

The both of you end up on the couch, your legs draped over his as you talk about racing.

He’s ranting about how he’s neck to neck with Max now, and the final verdict will likely be decided at Abu Dhabi, a fact that sends nerves all through him. You’re listening, you really are, but it’s difficult to keep listening because his hand, big and rough, is stroking your bare calf as he talks absentmindedly. 

You offer the occasional mmm-hmm and uh-huh and even the oh really to sell it, but he doesn’t seem to be conscious of how many sparks are coursing through you because of his hand on your leg. He just talks and talks, accent curving into curse words elicited by the competition.

And his voice, rough and deeper when he slides into Italian phrases, gets in your head, reminds you of the way he’d moaned when you had his dick in your mouth. You like that? he’d said, panting, heavy, hot. His hand remained in your hair, controlling you the same way you did him. Fuck.

When you blink, he’s stopped talking, and has likely noticed your wandering imagination if his teasing smile is anything to go by. You cough, clear your throat, adjust your thighs. You’re thinking—you can’t stop thinking—about what happened in Mexico, not just in the motorhome but in the club where he’d let his hand sprawl over your ass and stay there, possessive.

The tension rises. I owe you. He really does. You reach over and grab your phone from the coffee table, snap a few pictures of him. “—Hey!” He protests, scrabbling to grab it from you while balancing his half-full glass. “I look god awful.”

You stand up, review the picture. He looks so impossibly handsome. “You’re right, you do,” you say, pouting. 

He reaches over again, chuckling, and you avoid him. “Foul play!”

“Tch. At least show it to me,” he says defeatedly, so you do: presenting your screen to him.

Quickly, he makes a grab for it, but you just escape his grip, ending up right in front of him and leaning over. You’re losing your balance, digging your toes into your carpet to maintain stance. He spares a glance at your shorts, riding low on your hips, showing a bit of thin lace.

Charles tugs you forward by the hem of your top and then takes your wrist into his grip—the force of his grab makes your tits shake underneath your flimsy tank top. It’s dragged down so far your tits are spilling out. His eyes flicker down to them, dark, and a pretty smile spreads across his face.

“Come on, give it,” he challenges, eyes narrowing a little. You bite your lip, inwardly liking this a little too much—being at his mercy, trapped in his strong grip. You’re flustered and it shows.

He wrestles you onto his lap with ease, his arms steady around you. You stare downwards, dark eyes meeting his, hand on his broad shoulder for leverage. He’s so pretty, you think, so hot and handsome and you need him right now. Through his jeans you can feel how thick he is, his dick growing, getting hard and huge under you. It feels big even through a few layers—you can’t help but imagine how it might feel inside you.

Your phone clatters to the carpet behind the couch. “I win,” you say breathlessly.

He grabs your hips and jerks his upward, letting his stiff dick press up even more against your shorts.

“I think I’m the winner here,” he says gruffly, hands feeling you up all over. He thumbs at your chest, rubbing over your tits. You shiver—it feels good having him on you like this, your mind turning to mush.

“Shut up,” you laugh, shakily. A hand wanders in between your thighs, another coming to squeeze your barely-covered ass. You can’t focus on much, just his hands roaming everywhere and his hard dick pressing against your core. He shoves your hips downward again, his cock hard and perfectly against your pussy.

“You feel that?” He asks; it leaves him in one low breath.  

“Yeah,” you say, whimpering. “I want it.”

He grinds up against you again, his thumb teasing the hem of your shorts. Closer to where you want it. “Don’t think you could even take it, baby.”

“I hate you,” you say. “You know I can.”

He laughs. “We’ll see, yeah?” You find a rhythm of grinding down against his cock, nestled right against your ass. He’s everywhere and you can’t handle it anymore, finding yourself craving him more and more.

You moan against his neck—and then come to your senses. “No.”

He smirks when you pull away. “Tempted, were you?”

“Not…” You pause. You’re sweaty, flushed all over, and your panties are sticking to you from how wet you’ve grown. “Not very.”

—

Abu Dhabi is a son of a bitch.

It comes with meetings, meetings, debriefs, calls, meetings. Everything is riding on the night’s race, the flurry of social media a welcome source of anxiety for him as he watches the hours whiz by. You’d missed seeing him, understood he was busy; you send a selfie to compensate and it gets him calm enough to last the pre-race buzz.

Time speeds by with lunch, coaching, drills, talks with Carlos and Mattia and even Max, who displays support as strongly as competitiveness. Before he even realizes it, he blinks and he’s in his suit, adjusting his balaclava, inhaling, exhaling. Everything is just the way he likes—needs—it to be.

He drives himself to P2 behind Max, eyes shut.

All else seeps into him, natural method, natural routine. He flexes his thumbs. Through the team radio his engineer goes good luck, and Charles’ practice bleeds into his subconscious. The air is heavy, with tension and excitement, the division of blue and red. Everyone’s eager to see who claims the title. 

The lights go off and everything is left to skill, blurring into noise and turns and expletives yelled into the team radio. He can’t even feel himself think, turning with dexterity and overtaking with the kind of vengeance he hasn’t let out in a while. 

For all his trying, Max keeps up just the same, keeping a neck and neck level for the relative entirety of the race. They’re milking out the last few laps together, and Charles feels every fibre of his being work toward this, just this, nothing but this right now. Nothing but the finish line.

You got this, Charles, says the engineer, voice heightening. Maiden world championship.

He nods to himself, trusts his instincts and when he catches sight of the finish line, he thinks: he’s the best driver on the grid.

So he revs faster, and the rest descends into—

Absolute fucking chaos.

—

He’s smiling when he approaches the reporter, who’s already holding the mic with wonder. He asks for a message in Italian, then reminds him—and the crowd—that, in case he forgot, he’s world champion. Charles thinks he genuinely can’t ever.

“What are you doing to celebrate?” He asks then, smiling.

Sweaty, with damp hair and shiny skin, he smirks and leans closer. “Someone, I hope.”

—

“Hey there, champ.”

You’re already leaning against his hotel room door when he gets there, after the chore of wrestling himself free from the rest of the team pressuring him to get drinks. Carlos helps out, babbles something or other about Charles being “busy with something else”—which isn't wrong, not at all. He offers a smooth wink, bending down to kiss you.

Your mouths meet, softly first then increasingly messy as he pins you against the door. You push away, breathing heavy. “I don’t know what you’re into, but I don't want the top floor of this hotel seeing us fucking.”

“I wasn’t into that, but now that you brought it up…” You swat his arm and he laughs, unlocking the door and pulling you inside. You’re clinging onto him—his arms, his chest, anything, kissing up his neck and jaw. He groans at how needy you are. All for him, he thinks. Probably soaked through your panties and it’s all because of him.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he says gently, voice low as he leads you to the bed. He catches sight of your shirt and a brow raises. “Did you buy that?”

“Hmm?” You look down, following his gaze and blinking. The shirt you’re wearing is loose, hanging off your shoulders and hastily tucked into your miniskirt so it looks like you actually have trousers on. “Oh. No, this is yours.”

“Mine.” He smiles a little. “You look so good in it, princess.” His hands mindlessly grope at you, hungry, sneaking underneath your skirt to feel at the lace there. 

In retaliation, you lean forward, unbutton his jeans and tug at it.

“You left it at one of my”—you gasp, feeling his finger sneak its way beneath your panties—“my hotel rooms.”

“Pretty girl, pretty shirt, pretty lace, yeah?” He tugs, lets the garter of the skirt loosen and fall off your hips on its own. “Red.”

“You take too long,” you groan.

“You’re just eager,” he laughs, thumbing at your clothed cunt.

You’re so wet, evident even in the lazy circles he rubs over your entrance. You’re aching, desperate, begging almost. So he gives you what you want, maneuvers you onto his lap and pushes your (his) shirt up to stuff your mouth with it.

It won’t work for long, but it’s enough. He pushes your panties to the side and pulls his hard dick out. You’re sitting against it now, leaking slick onto it, at his mercy, branding his name and his number across your back. It’s hot. 

He stares at the way you rock softly against him, hungry eyes meeting yours. “You’re so pretty, baby. Ruined.”

“Fuck me already,” you say, voice throaty, innocent.

“Can you take it?” He asks, teasing you, slapping his dick against your clit softly. You whine.

“Please,” you insist. “I want it. Make it fit.”

He’s a massive tease with it, his breath fanning against your skin, hands sticky on where they’ve hiked your shirt up. He lowers you, slower, against the tip of his dick and he watches your eyes flutter when you sink onto it. After ages of waiting. Your grip’s like iron on his shoulders, moans leaving you in quiet bursts of pleasure. 

You’re far away, dumb from the feeling, you barely register the way he shoves the shirt back into your mouth to keep you quiet. “So fucking tight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. It’s muffled, barely intelligible. “For you.”

You’re only able to take it because you’re so wet, so turned on, face and brain filled with nothing but pleasure. He can’t take it.

“Mmmfh,” you say, muffled by the bite of cotton in your mouth. You’re sweaty, flushed, overstimulated—you don’t know where to focus. On his lips against your jaw, his hand on your neck, the way your pussy swallows his aching dick. “It’s so big, I—”

“You okay?” He asks, breathily. Smiling. He’s in control, but still he sounds whiny—almost, if not as desperate as you. “You’ll take it all for me, won’t you?” 

“Oh god,” is all you muster, letting him stretch you out even more, gushing all over his cock. “I, I—”

He moans, his grip tight against your waist, watching his dick bury itself in you. “You’re getting me so full,” you whine. “So deep, I feel it—” you taper off into a moan again when he presses hs thumb to your clit, distracting you from the stretch as he finally, finally bottoms out.

“Good?”

You nod. So good, give me more.

You grind against him, let the shirt fall out of your mouth. “You’re getting my dick so wet,” he comments, breathless. “So pretty for me, too.”

Growing antsy, he attempts to move, but you whine. Your turn to tease, you think, after he was a dick to you just now. “Not yet,” you say, lip caught between your teeth. His hands are tight around your waist. Desperate.

You squeeze around him, watch his brows knit together, a grunt leave him in a frustrated exhale. “You wanna fuck me?” You tease against his neck, blinking innocently.

“Yes,” he replies, not missing a beat. You pout, like you’re empathizing with the problem you’re causing; you grind slowly against him and he lets out a guttural fuuuuck. He’s so big, so hard—you can feel every inch of him inside you.

“Tell me again, Charles,” you say with a giggle. You’re so hot like this, face flushed and timid, hips moving slowly. He could cum just from the way you bite your lip, the way a whimper slips out of you when he hits the right spot.

“—Yeah,” he says, sweetly. “I want to—please, let me fuck you. C’mon, baby, can I?”

“Aww,” you tease. 

“Can I?” He asks again, voice deep and thin with the need to fuck you, thrust up into you and make you the dumb one. His face is flushed and desperate. “Can I move, baby? Let me, please.”

You’re not stupid. You know—if his flushed, pleading face and big green puppy eyes are anything to go by—that he’s going crazy, growing antsy. But you’re not complaining.

“Hmm,” you say, feigning genuine thought. “I don’t know, Charles. Feels good just like this. And you want to make me feel good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Yeah.” You repeat, staring into his dark eyes. He’s frustrated, desperate, flushed all over and sweaty. His fingers dig into your hips. “I’ll make you feel really good, baby, if you let me.”

“Go ahead,” you say softly, “fuck me, please.” And he’s thrusting upwards to meet you halfway. It’s knocking you out, almost, the pleasure of it, the dizzy onslaught of euphoria. He’s stretching you out so well, whining softly into your neck and yeah, you two have waited far too long to have this. You 

“Fuck,” he grunts, lids squeezed shut and head rolled onto your shoulder. “Go on, baby, ride it, make me cum.” He cups your jaw, reaches his thumb into your mouth. It’s too much, all of it. He makes you suck on it while thrusting up, dizzying you with his cock.

He grabs handfuls of your ass, teases his thumb at your tighter asshole just to watch your eyes flutter, feel your cunt grow wetter. “I’ll fuck you even fuller next time,” he says; the implication gets you hot.

You bounce harder, chasing release as his thumb teases over your ass, the tip of it just thrusting in enough to elicit strings of moans out of you. “Come on, ride me,” he goads. “So good for me.”

“Fuck,” you pant, “cum in me, please.”

You cum first, writhing around him and riding your orgasm out in lazy grinds over his hard cock. You want to see him cum, see his eyebrows knit and his mouth release pretty whines, feel him claim you inside, hands hot and heavy on your ass. He does, with a guttural fuuuuck, shoving his dick up in you to the base and spurting all his cum in you.

He thrusts, watches his cum leak out of you, fucks it back in, in a vicious cycle. You shiver, blinking coquettishly and watching along—and then you’re both crumpling over each other on the bed behind you. You pant heavily against his chest.

“Hey.” He muses out loud, drumming against your skin.

“Yeah?”

“I have thirty-six condoms we need to go through. Wanna go on a date?”

[01zfan]

delusional | j. sc

ex-bf!sungchan x fem!reader | 5k words

this was originally a request but i lost my mind somewhere along the way. i hope this is to your liking

contains: weed smoking, consensual high sex, unprotected sex, cheating, sungchan is lowkey toxic till he meets his match. basically you and ur ex are in the middle of an idgaf war.

“i can’t believe she hangs out with him now.” sungchan points from his lunch tray to you and the man you’re walking with. 

sungchan would’ve never taken you for the type to date someone after him. sungchan had that thought with all of his girlfriends. eventually the girls would move on and each time sungchan would be flabbergasted. how could any of his exes ever find someone that would put up with their attitude, pay for everything, and fuck them like he did? sungchan would always be the one to end things, making girls crawl back to ask him to be on their roster. he would always oblige of course, all of his exes were gorgeous and amazing in bed. but he just was never ready for commitment.

you were different from them. when sungchan gave you the same rehearsed lines he told the girls before you, all you did was shrug your shoulders. you didn’t beg him to stay, or ask what you did wrong. you didn’t try to bargain, which is what the girls usually did first. instead you just left his dorm and never came back. sungchan waited by his phone for your desperate late night text or a sobbing voicemail. it never came. he even embarrassingly waited after one of your classes to see you disheveled, not caring about your appearance after going through such a hard breakup. but you were shining and smiling, dressed well. sungchan ignored the pang he felt in his chest when he saw how happy you looked. that pang, however was quickly replaced with anger when he saw your new boy toy trailing behind you.

“she’s always been friends with haechan.” eunseok doesn’t even have to look behind him to know who sungchan is talking about. you and your lab partner have been the topic of every conversation since he saw you two together last week. without even meaning to, sungchan found a way to incorporate you and your new boyfriend into every conversation.

“they were always in the same group, there’s a difference. now he follows her like a fucking lost puppy everywhere on campus.” sungchan sets his food to the side.

“he’s lost his appetite.” shotaro laughs and eunseok has to hide his smile behind another bite of food.

“i’m full.” sungchan said, dropping his fork on his plate. his two friends are no help in consoling him. he sees them try and hold their composure, to take him seriously. sungchan has of course brought girls over to their shared apartment. shotaro and eunseok bared witness to the steady stream of women sungchan surrounded himself with. when they’d bring them up in conversation, sungchan always had to be reminded of which girl they were talking about.

“oh the girl from biology? yeah she was crazy.” sungchan said nonchalantly, clicking through shows on netflix.

shotaro and eunseok have told sungchan multiple times that he was the problem. they even made a rule where sungchan could no longer bring over girls. the pair were confused when you started popping around the apartment in the daytime. usually sungchan had his sexcapades at night, trying to sneak his girls out in the morning before his roommates woke up. but suddenly you were there and sungchan would bring you up, not needing any reminders on who you were.

eunseok covers his mouth with his hand trying to hide his laugh.

“oh it’s real serious.” eunseok says.

shotaro joins in. sungchan looked at you and your new man. you two were coming towards his table. sungchan straightened his posture and cleared his throat. shotaro and eunseok looked behind them. when they saw you two coming towards the table they turned back to sungchan wide eyed and tight lipped, still holding back laughs.

sungchan shot them a look that said behave, but you walked by them like it was nothing. you barely spared a glance in his direction. you had a certain pride in your walk, or maybe it was a bounce brought on by not having to carry your books. haechan trailed behind you, holding your things underneath his tray. sungchan wanted to scoff at haechan–to laugh at him for becoming your errand boy. until sungchan remembers you having him the same way. he held everything of yours. sungchan would take them from your hands wordlessly, he hated seeing you carry things when his hands were free. but that was different from haechans’ situation. he did it in a chivalrous gentlemanly way. haechan did it in a pathetic and desperate way. 

you sat with haechan at a table in the back corner. sungchan recognized your friends, but he couldn’t name them. maybe they were your other friends. why would you let haechan meet your friends so fast? it took you months before you let sungchan meet your friends.

“that’s tough dude.” shotaro said.

“real tough.” eunseok agreed.

although shotaro and eunseok were talking to him, sungchan wasn’t looking at them. he was too busy looking at how you were sitting next to haechan. whatever someone said made you laugh. nobody is more funny than him so why were you laughing so hard? you had your hand on haechan’s shoulder and pinched it. the same thing you used to do to him. sungchan wanted to get up and go over to your table. he was starting to feel like he didn’t even exist to you anymore. then you looked at him.

you leaned back in the chair and locked eyes with sungchan. he was expecting you to look away, the way girls would look away when he caught them staring. instead you held eye contact, your look was neutral. sungchan’s eyes widened and now he was the one compelled to look away. when you waved at him, it took less than a second for sungchan to wave back. sungchan half expected you to start crawling over to him, refusing to stand your ground any longer. but you just look at him and smirk, going back to your conversation. 

“she’s got you good.”  shotaro said.

“real good.” eunseok said.

sungchan gave his friends the most intense glare of his life. this had no effect on the two while they continued to eat their food. he didn’t even get to tell his friends the worst part of it all. you had made your instagram a private account and locked down your twitter. you were hiding yourself, locking your heaven away from your snooping ex. sungchan wanted the ability to still look at your face and see your thoughts, but it was no longer possible. eunseok and shotaro would just tell him he’s lucky you didn’t block him, but sungchan wondered if blocking would’ve been better for his peace of mind. soft blocking and removing him from everything was like putting you just out of reach from him. you being so close but so far away made sungchan the most desperate he’s ever felt. it was sick, but late at night he would wonder if the girls he broke up with felt the way he did.

after eunseok and shotaro were done eating, sungchan was finally able to leave. he couldn’t leave without his friends walking beside him. that would only make him look more like a loser. so now sungchan walked behind his friends, trying to seem as cool and mysterious and nonchalant as possible while he walked by your table. sungchan felt someone’s eyes on him and he hoped they were yours.

sungchan went on the rest of his day with you on his mind. he kept waiting for a follow request, a text, an email, anything. he just kept thinking about how annoying it was that you weren’t feining for his attention like all his girls before you. sungchan passed by your dormitory on his way home. he looked up the tall archaic building, staring at what he believed to be your window. he thought about the nights he would spend there when your roommate was gone. 

sungchan remembered being cuddled up to you underneath your sheets. he liked when you made him be the little spoon. sungchan would always protest but he loved feeling you behind him and your arms around his large frame. he wondered if you made haechan be the little spoon too. he wondered if haechan was sleeping in your bed while you did your homework. he thought about you sleepily climbing up the ladder of your lofted bed to see him waiting for you. sungchan couldn’t stop thinking about your new man curled up next to you. he wondered if your hands drifted over haechan’s body while he felt you up. before sungchan could get a hold of his thoughts, he was opening the door to your building.

your RA didn’t even look up from her desk when sungchan came in. he went to the hallway your room was in and walked down the hallway. 

sungchan used to be proud that he knew his way around this all girl dormitory. he thinks about the hushed whispers of girls sneaking him in, or reading directions off his phone. he couldn’t tell you were half those girls’ rooms were now, but he still remembered yours.

sungchan stood in front of your door. he couldn’t bring himself to knock. sungchan knew he stuck out like a sore thumb. anyone opening the door would question him, and he could get in big trouble if the RA found him wandering the halls of the all girls housing like a ghost. but sungchan didn’t care. he suddenly felt antsy, imagining you on the other side of the door. before he could knock, his phone started going off in his back pocket. maybe it was divine intervention. sungchan grabbed his phone and nearly dropped it when your photo and caller ID took up the whole screen. 

he quickly looked around the dorm hallway, completely empty except for him. did he know you were here? did your RA let you know your crazy ex who is completely over you was waiting outside your door? 

sungchan started tiptoeing down the hallway through a back entrance where he wouldn’t have to see the RA. he didn’t answer your ring until he was in the courtyard outside of your building.

“hello?” sungchan was out of breath. he pulled the bottom of his phone away from his mouth. he had to seem as unaffected as possible.

“were you working out or something?” 

“why are you calling me?” sungchan mustered all of his strength to sound curt, but he was walking around in circles with a hand in his pocket. he kicked a rock around with a smile on his face as he heard you thinking on the other end of the line.

“i left my pipe at your place.”

“i gave it to eunseok.” sungchan says. which is partially true, he gave your glass pipe to his friend for safe keeping.

“can you bring it to me?”

sungchan wanted to tease you for reaching out to him first. he was no idiot, he knew that the pipe was just an excuse to call him. 

“what’s in it for me?” sungchan asks.

“maybe i’ll let you inside my apartment so you don’t have to wait outside my door like a fucking stalker.”

sungchan hangs his phone up immediately. how’d you know he was outside your door? he thinks back to your RA, how she looked kind of familiar. realization hit sungchan like a freight train when he recognized the RA as one of your closest friends. despite his embarrassment, sungchan was ecstatic to get a semi invitation into your apartment again. so he ran the half mile to get to his apartment.

sungchan was grateful that neither of his roommates were home. he was in and out in a flash, stealing a joint from eunseok’s collection. he left a ten in the place of the joint, and a text for the pipe that he was going to run to his ex like an errand boy. this was so unlike him, to be at someone beck and call. but he couldn’t help it, not when he was thinking about being in the warmth of your apartment.

sungchan walked back into your dorm the same way he did prior, this time the RA was staring him down. he gave a wave, trying to save face. sungchan was sure they were laughing at him in whatever groupchat you had, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

when he knocked at your door, you left him waiting. when you finally opened it, your eyes went to the pipe and the joint first.

sungchan walked into your dorm. it felt like a century since he had seen your place. 

“you can sit down. you look like you ran a mile.” you say, shutting and locking the door behind you.

sungchan obliges, he was tired from running around campus doing your bidding. when he sits at your desk he sees various weed paraphernalia, ranging from a vape to a bong. he sees a miniature pipe. before he can chide you for having too much stuff, you come to him with two cups of water.

“get on the bean bag instead.”

sungchan got up a little too quickly from your desk to sit on the bean bag. it was next to your seat but a lower. his long legs had to be bent so he could sit up right. he felt your shag rug underneath his feet. it was soft and he picked at it with his hand.

“is this new?” sungchan pointed at your shag while you packed the bowl.

“present.” you said simply. sungchan wanted to trace over the slight frown you had from concentration.

“it’s soft. i like it.” sungchan says.

you look up from packing the bowl and smirk.

“haechan picked out the color.”

sungchan tried his best to control his expression but he couldn’t help frustration that flashed across his face. you basked in him trying to show you he didn’t care. he was really too easy. you put the bowl into the bong and prepped yourself.

“your RA just let me walk in, you know. she should be fired.” sungchan laughed.

“you know she’s my roommate right? she saw you come in and texted me.” you say matter of factly. atleast sungchan was right thinking he knew her from somewhere.

“you ready?” sungchan held his lighter to the base of the bong, ready to ignite the bud sitting in the bowl. he wasn’t normally this chatty when smoking a girl out, but he found himself wanting to say as many words to you as possible.

with your lips to the mouthpiece you nodded, and sungchan lit the left side of the bowl. it was something random he remembered about you, how you always said the left side was the best side. you looked at sungchan and smiled. he could feel you looking at him and had to clear his throat to stop himself from smiling. he was too easy sungchan thought. maybe him and haechan weren’t so different after all.

you took the hit from the bong like a champ, breathing in the smoke till the pipe was clear. once you pulled away, you sucked in an extra puff of air, to really get it in your lungs. 

“attagirl.” sungchan said softly as he watched your chest raise up, staying there for a moment. you let the air out, staring at sungchan as you did so. he looked a little different. was he wearing a different shirt than when you saw him in the dining hall?

eventually the hits started getting to you. you considered yourself lucky to be a lightweight when it came to weed. just from two bong hits and the joint you felt floaty. you looked at sungchan’s hooded and bleary eyes, wondering if yours looked the same.

“you still smoke?” you asked sungchan. he nodded, holding back a cough while he handed you the joint.

“taro and eunseok rubbed off on me. i don’t do it as much as i used too though.”

“eunseok rolls the best joints. thank him for me.” you cough after taking another hit. you were definitely high now.

“how do you know eunseok rolled this?” sungchan looked at the joint in his hand. he was pretty high already and he could tell you were too. his tolerance had been lowered since you two stopped seeing eachother. sungchan now only smoked when his two roommates did. 

he held up the ashtray to you. you took in one last drag then knocked off the ash. it was half gone, but that’s more than enough for you to enjoy later. instead of answering sungchan’s question, you motioned for him to come in front of you. he obeyed you almost immediately, sitting in front of you. you bent over until your mouth was ghosting over his. focusing on his lips, you slowly pushed the smoke cloud into sungchan’s mouth. he took all of it while looking directly into your eyes. his eyes were open so wide you could see his sclera was red and bloodshot. when his hands reached up, you put your hands on his shoulders. it stopped him from reaching up to your face and pulling you in for a kiss, the thing he’d always do when you two smoked together. sungchan instead let his hands rest on your knees. when all the smoke was out of your mouth you pulled away like nothing happened.

“he put mullein in here. to help with the irritation and everything.” you handed the joint to sungchan for the final time. he put out the joint and placed it in a small plastic cylindrical container. 

sungchan knew that you put your weed in the tiny wooden box that was next to him on the rug. he had seen you do it a million times before. but sungchan also knew he needed to feel you in his space while you leaned over him to get to the box. so he handed the container to you, and you entered his orbit smelling like vanilla and something else, maybe something new that you put in your hair. you linger there for a moment and he’s tempted to lean in and kiss your cheek, to pull you on top of him. sungchan has to close his eyes when you put your hand on his knee to push off of to get in a comfortable position back in your chair.

after you placed the joint in the desk, you leaned fully into your comfortable chair, feeling like you were going to become one with the cushion. you looked at sungchans’ hand, that had moved up from your knee to your thigh. thought about tracing the veins on his hand. you thought about putting your hand on his and dragging it further up your leg. you were definitely high now.

“that’s nice of him.” sungchan pretended like he remembered what the hell you guys were talking about. “should we open your window?”

“just stay right here.” you said, leaning even more into the chair. sungchan let his hand trace shapes on your thigh. 

you try to think about how cruel it is of your ex to breakup with you and expect you to come crawling back. sungchan’s reputation preceded him, you had been warned about his behavior. you try to think about how he loved you and left you fast, trying to remember what you did wrong. instead all you can think about it why you stuck around for as long as you did. you try not to think about how nice it would feel to fuck him on your new shag rug.

“i’m guessing your roommate won’t be back for awhile?” sungchan has a look that sends shivers up your spine. you nod.

“haechan is coming over in like thirty minutes.” you add. 

“you gonna cancel on him?” sungchan’s hand creeps higher and higher up your leg. 

you get off the chair, pushing it out of the way and you sit in front of sungchan, looking him in the eye.

“no, i’m telling you that you have thirty minutes.”

almost instantly, sungchan pulls you closer to him. your hands find his chest, fisting the fabric of his tee that is keeping you from seeing his abs. you clumsily find the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up for him to get the hint. 

sungchan pulls away from you to take his shirt off. it’s thrown somewhere in the room and he pushes back into you, lips finding yours quickly. usually when you guys had high sex it was different. it wouldn’t be any less intense than it was currently—with sungchan pulling your pants down and pushing your bra up to reveal your boobs—just slower. if sungchan wasn’t under a time constraint he would’ve loved to draw out your pleasure, making you cry out his name for your whole building to hear. he wanted to spend the day kissing you, leaving marks on all your body parts he hasn’t been able to see. to make you come crawling back to him, to beg him for more. but now he had to settle for a quickie before your new boyfriend came knocking at your door.

sungchan pushes you down to lay on the shag rug. your bottoms and shirt are gone, only leaving you in a sports bra that is pulled down. you see your ex do a once over of your body. you don’t know if it’s because of your high but it takes forever until sungchan touches you. it's just one finger and a light touch. he drags his finger from the valley of your breasts all the way down to your navel. you’re twitching just from this, brought on by a certain horniness only weed gives you. your gasp is depraved and desperate as sungchan spreads your legs by your thighs.

“you fucking haechan now?” sungchan asks. he looks up from you from between your legs. you want to push his head down, so he will shut up with his stupid jealousy and do what you called him here to do. you prop yourself up by your shoulders to look at him.

“if i am, it's none of your business.” you bend your knees, debating on closing your thighs around sungchan’s head.

“that’s a yes?” sungchan kisses the soft skin of your thighs. he looks you in your eyes as he sucks harshly on your skin. “there’s no way he is fucking you right.”

you let out a sigh and lean your head back.

“oh yeah?” you say, trying to egg him on. sungchan was always chatty during sex but the jealousy dripping from every sentence made you squirm.

“there’s no way he knows how you like it. or how to handle you” sungchan kisses your clit. you hate how affectionate he’s being with you, especially after breaking up with you. like he’s still your boyfriend or something. you move your hand to the back of his head and lightly push him into your heat.

“you’re wasting time.” you say lightly. sungchan looks at the digital clock next to your bed. he ducks his head into your heat, instantly getting to work. you let your body rest on the shag again. already you feel like you’re losing your mind. as much as you hated to admit it, you weren’t getting fucked the way you needed to. having sungchan in between your legs devouring you made you realize how depraved you really were. the weed in your system also made every sensation feel new and exciting. you were moaning, body lifting off the bed when sungchan started fucking you with his tongue. when he picked up your bottom half to bring even closer to him, you were done for. within five minutes, sungchan pulled from you with slick covering the bottom half of his mouth.

“such a good girl for me.” sungchan said to your lower half, leaving one final kiss. sungchan moved his body up yours. before he could give you a kiss, you flipped over, sticking your ass in the air. you decided he doesn’t get the privilege to kiss you in between moments of intimacy.

“so mean to me baby. after i just made you cum too.” sungchan fake pouted as he took off his pants. you said nothing back to him. when sungchan returned behind you, he roughly pulled you back so your ass was touching his dick. when he was high, sungchan’s intrusive thoughts always won. that’s why he started slapping your ass with his dick, fixated on how your ass jiggled with each hit. 

“i haven’t fucked any girls since we broke up.” sungchan murmured. he was moving your ass around now. you were so pliant for him while simultaneously refusing to give him the validation of being your ex. he wanted you more than anything.

“you don’t have to wear a condom.”

“awww you won’t give haechan any pussy? still hung up on your ex or somethin’?” sungchan’s hands rested on your ass. he tried to sound indifferent as he teased you, but hearing that news made him undeniably happy. haechan wishes he could see you like this. 

sungchan slowly spread you out one last time. he held his dick in his hand and summoned all the spit he had in his dry mouth. after a glob of spit landed on his length, he did a few quick pumps. when he slid into you, you both let out prolonged whimpers and moans. something about the way you were already clenching around him made him dig his teeth into his lip.

when he was fully inside of you, sungchan moved one hand to the small of your back to press you down. his other hand spread your thighs more so he could slot in between him. with each movement, you sucked in a little bit of air. you purposely clenched around him just to revel in the fact that he was inside of you completely. sungchan slowly pulled out just to go back in just as slow. you reached out a hand to him and he held your hand, pinning it against your back.

sungchan could barely control himself as he looked at you in your current state. your walls fluttering around his dick while you had a vice grip on your rug. he thought about how you had such a pretty backside while he ran his hand down your spine. sungchan wanted to say he missed this view, that he missed you. instead he gave your ass a light smack.

“still as big as you remember?” sungchan smirked. you clenched around him again. he was obsessed with teasing you in bed. you always would react to whatever he’d say and he loved the fact that you had a mouth on you too.

“i’ve had bigger.” you say, biting your lip to hold back a moan. sungchan gives you another slap.

“i think she disagrees.” he says while picking up his speed. “i can barely move she’s holding me so tight.”

sungchan looked at the clock again. he had about ten minutes. it was strange how time passed when he was having fun. he wanted to get lost in you, but he had to focus on making you feel as much as he could in the next ten minutes. he moved a hand down to your clit. he rubbed slow circles. he laughed because it was hard to multitask, the weed making his brain fuzzy.

“what’s so funny?” you moaned. you tried to sound rude but the spot that sungchan was hitting made you fold. before you knew it you were rocking your hips back into him, whimpers falling from your lips.

“just wanna make you feel good, baby. i can tell you haven’t done this in awhile.” sungchan said. he was starting to get lost in the feeling of you too.

“thank you.” you moaned. you had no control over what you were saying and thinking anymore. the slapping of skin and moans filled the room and the view of sungchan fucking you filled your mind.

“such a sweetheart.” sungchan intertwined your fingers with his. 

he gripped your hand tightly, increasing his speed. you were at his mercy, other hand searching for something to stabilize your body. you tightened your grip on his hand. sungchan leaned over, pushing you down to a position that had him hitting deeper than before. you turned to jelly underneath him, moaning louder than before. he brought a hand over your mouth while he brought his lips to your ear.

“you hear that?” sungchan said, biting your earlobe. you didn’t have to listen hard to hear the squelching. the lewd wet sound filled your ears. “she’s saying she misses me.” sungchan smiled against your ear. him talking to you like that had you seeing stars, whole body on fire.

“i’m gonna cum.” you say, muffled behind his hand. sungchan understood you perfectly, cooing to you while he picked up the pace of his hips and fingers.

you came undone while sungchan sucked on your neck. he continued his ministration on your clit as you said his name in broken cries. sungchan came shortly after you clenched around him. his thrusts went from hard and slow, trying to give his all to you. he continued to thrust even after you were both done with your high, enjoying the overstimulation. when he was done he didn’t pull out, but instead collapsed on top of you.

you let him stay like that. it felt nice being surrounded by sungchan again. his body was sweaty and warm against yours, and his arms wrapped around you made you feel secure. even though you could feel yourself getting crushed, you reveled in it. this would be the last time in your life you’d ever see sungchan so you let him stay like that, even after hearing knocks on your door.

[4wkjun]

✴ Kinktober, day nine: cuckolding with Heeseung

✴ Word count: 2,2K ✴ Content warning: obvious cuckolding, Heeseung being paid to have sex with y/n, protected sex, nipple play, m!masturbation, fingering (f!receiving), voyeurism, exhibitionism, vaginal sex. ✴ Taglist: starsareseen, lucid-sombra, enha13, karinashairdryer, kim2005bomi, hyunj00 ✴ Mimi's note: for the sake of this plot, I mentioned Just B’s Geonu. Only Bs out there, please wait a bit and I’ll write for them!! Also, don’t sue me <3

✴ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! ✴

✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴

Heeseung took a long puff and threw the cigarette by the road, exhaling the white smoke. The nighttime had begun, and so had his shift.

He walked slowly towards the gate surrounding the house he’d work tonight, fixing his hair before pressing the doorbell. It took around 20 seconds before the man opened the door, clearly a little shy.

“Hi. You must be Heeseung.”

“Yeah, you’re Geonu, right?”

With a nod, Geonu opened the door for you to walk inside. “Come in, y/n’s in the kitchen.”

Heeseung always felt nervous before a shift, even though he’s been doing it for almost two years. He took his shoes off, walking a little timidly towards the tiny kitchen.

“Hi”, he smiled, waving. You were looking for something to eat in the fridge, anxious to wait for Heeseung’s arrival.

“Oh, hi”, you said, raising your head abruptly. You closed the fridge door, indicating the dining table with your hand. “Please, sit.”

With a nod, Heeseung sat down, placing his shoulder bag on his lap. He took an envelope out. You and Geonu took your seats across from Heeseung, not sure what to do or say.

“Ok, so… before we get started, I must say a few rules”, Heeseung started. “I’ll tell you the basics, but it’ll be all detailed here on this contract.”

Geonu raised his eyebrows, surprised. He didn’t think such a thing would have so much… Detailing.

“First: I will not, under any circumstances, do anything without protection. I do have a copy of my latest medical exams in case you want to check, but either way, this is off the list.”

The two of you nodded and you felt relief. You never had unprotected sex with your boyfriend, let alone the guy you paid to have sex with you. You took the contract out of the envelope, shaking a little.

“Second: do not give you guys permission to record anything out of our session, not even voice notes. I will also not let any of my electronic devices around us, you can be sure your privacy will be protected”, he said, waiting as you and Geonu tried to read everything on that piece of paper. “Third: we need a safe word, which must be settled beforehand. Fourth: once the payment is done, it is done; I will not reimburse you if you decide to back down.”

Heeseung gave you and your boyfriend a few seconds to read all of the rules he set on the contract. You seemed ok with it – and so did Geonu.

“Do you guys have any questions or requests?”

“I do”, you said, timidly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t want to be kissed.”

“Anywhere or on the lips?” Heeseung asked seriously. The question itself made your cheeks and ears burn hot.

“On… the lips”,  you responded in a quiet tone. Geonu wanted to laugh, finding you cute. “Also, no pet names.”

“Got it. Mr. Geonu?”

“We’re probably around the same age; can’t we cut the formalities?” Geonu asked, smiling awkwardly. Plus, you’re about to fuck my girlfriend, he thought.

“Yeah, sure. Do you have anything to say?”

Geonu pouted and you held his hand behind the table, squeezing it. If he wanted to back out, you’d be fine with it.

“Nah, I’m curious about one thing. If she wants to stop in the middle of it, would it be ok?”

“Absolutely”, Heeseung nodded. “Just no reimbursement.”

“Alright. Now, do you guys have a safeword you’re used to?”

“Not really, the good old “stop” usually works”, you shrugged.

“May I suggest the word red to be our safeword just for the night?”

“Yeah, it’s fine”, you said. Geonu nodded.

✴✴✴

Twenty minutes later, the two of you had signed the contract, paid for the job, and moved to the bedroom. Geonu sat down on the chair in the corner of the room, while you and Heeseung sat don’t in the middle of the bed. Heeseung sat against the headboard with his legs wide open, you in the middle of them with your back against his chest.

“Remember, if you decide to stop, the safeword is red”, Heeseung warned gently. You nodded.

The two of you were fully clothed as Heeseung moved your hair out of your shoulder to have access to your neck. He started by giving it soft pecks, just trying to get you more comfortable. You, on the other hand, closed your eyes, embarrassed. Geonu adjusted himself on the chair, eyes glued on your facial expressions.

Heeseung started to give your neck open-mouthed kisses, making you involuntarily move your head to the side, giving him more access. His hands moved carefully through your waist, searching for the hem of your shirt. His fingertips were cold as they entered your clothing to touch your skin. His touch was light, barely doing anything, but somehow you started to feel less weird about it.

His hands stroked your skin from your ribcage to your hips, stopping by the hem of your sweatpants. For a second, you felt ridiculous for not dressing up better. You seemed to relax after a little while, breathing harder when he slightly nipped at your skin. Heeseung’s hands moved upwards, circling your breasts with his whole palms before squeezing it softly. You didn’t say red, so he kept the motion for a couple of seconds before pulling your bra down to touch your nipples directly. You sighed when his fingertips circled your hard buds, a wave of electricity running straight down your core.

For about 40 seconds, Heeseung’s mouth left your neck and he focused on making you melt beneath his touch on your sensitive breasts. The realization of how sensitive you were made him aroused, his cock slowly hardening against your ass. Heeseung took one of his hands out of your nipple to raise your shirt, allowing Geonu to see your bare chest. Geonu breathed harder, the scene obscenely hot for him.

Without a warning, Heeseung’s hand entered your sweatpants. His hand reached for your thigh, fingertips caressing your skin so softly you barely felt the actual touch. He kept moving his hand up and down slowly, getting closer and closer to your clothed pussy.

His index and thumb pressed your left nipple harder, almost pinching it. You left a loud whine, throwing your head back against his shoulder. Geonu felt his cock twitch inside of his pants, eyes getting darker by only looking at you.

Knowing you’d already be wet, Heeseung’s hand caressed your pussy through the clothes. He could feel the wet patch on the bottom of your panties, which only made him more aroused. He never had any client that sensitive so fast. His fingertips didn’t do anything specific, he just rubbed your cunt from the slit to your clit through the thin fabric.

“Gosh, you’re soaking already”, Heeseung scoffed, smirking. “Won’t we take those pants off so your boyfriend can see how wet you got?”

Your cheeks got hotter as you closed your eyes harder, nodding. You raised your head and closed your legs (even though you can’t remember when you got them opened like that) to slide your pants through them easily, eyes locked on Geonu’s. He had a prominent boner on his shorts and gave you a smirk, making you feel more vulnerable.

You laid your back against Heeseung’s chest again, opening your legs a little timidly again. Your state was, at least, ridiculous to your point of view: messed up hair, shirt raised to your chest, bra down your ribcage, pants on the floor and panties soaking wet. From Geonu’s point of view, you were the hottest he’d ever seen.

Both Heeseung’s hands reached for your thighs, opening your legs wider for him, placing your ankles behind his legs. His hands caressed your inner thighs before they stopped almost above your cunt. One of his hands opened your pussy lips, while the other pulled your underwear up, rubbing the fabric roughly against your clit. You moaned quietly, eyes closing.

“C’mon, don’t be shy. Pull up a big show for him”, Heeseung whispered against your ear. He moved the fabric a few times, stimulating your clitoris harshly and spreading your arousal on yourself. You sighed, hands playing with the sheets beneath you.

Heeseung pulled your panties up, breaking the contact of your skin with it. He pulled it up to the side, collecting your arousal with his fingers. You whined again, his fingers colder than before. He dragged the arousal to your clit, circling it slowly right after. This time, you moaned openly, just like you did with Geonu.

Geonu couldn’t stop smirking at you, his cock so hard against his underwear that it almost hurt him. Slowly, he started to rub his cock through his clothes. Heeseung’s cock was not different.

Heeseung’s other hand let go of your underwear, collecting your arousal again, this time to start to finger you. He slid two fingers at once, making your whine higher and close your eyes harder, mouth agape. With no effort at all, he curled his fingers and started pumping them in and out, brushing against your g-spot while still abusing your swollen clit.

“Oh, my God”, you whined, fingers now holding your sheets as if your life depended on it. “I’m gonna cum!”

Heeseung scoffed against you, shaking his head. “Already going dumb? Just by fingering? Gosh, look at you”, he cooed.

You kept clenching around his fingers at every word leaving his lips, the know only growing bigger down your stomach.

“Red”, you whined, breathless. Heeseung stopped immediately and Geonu just looked at you, stopping his stroking.

“Do you want me to leave?”, Heeseung asked gently.

“No”, you answered, chest rising and falling fast. “I- I just thought you’d… fuck me”, you said, shy. “I can’t cum more than once in at least thirty minutes, I get too sensitive”, you explained completely embarrassed. Geonu smiled, cock twitching again. He knew how sensitive you got, he couldn’t wait to see you whining and trying to close your legs desperately as you always do.

“I see”, Heeseung scoffed. “In that case, won’t you get in all fours for me?”

“R-right here?”, you asked, sitting straighter, your back not touching him anymore.

“Maybe you could move to the side of the bed, give Geonu a nice view of you being railed by someone else.”

You clenched around nothing, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. You finished undressing yourself, throwing your remaining clothes through the room, and walking towards Geonu instead of just leaning on the bed.

“You sure you don’t want to… step in?”, you asked, leaning in to peck his lips. Heeseung undressed himself and looked for the condom in the meantime.

“Nah, this is priceless”, Geonu responded in a husky voice, extremely aroused. He kept stroking himself through his pants.

You slowly walked back to the bed, noticing Heeseung was ready and waiting for you. He was standing next to the bed, stroking himself while looking at you two.

As you got on all fours, you laid your head against the mattress, feeling way too exposed. Heeseung aligned himself on your entrance, sliding his covered tip through it for a bit. Without a warning, Heeseung penetrated you at once, bottoming out in one go. You gasped loudly, grabbing the sheets again. You didn’t know how big his cock would be when you contacted him in the first place, but now you were kinda regretful of not asking because his tip was abusing your cervix. You’d have cramps after.

You thought Heeseung would be a little gentler, however, he started to pound into you the way you never thought someone else would. You loved when Geonu fucked you hard and fast, melting your brains out because of the pleasure, but this was completely different.

You couldn’t stop clenching and whining as Geonu finally pulled his pants and underwear down, setting his cock free. His hand started to work hard against his tip and he moaned along with you, only making you clench harder against Heeseung’s cock.

“Look at you, already drooling and clenching. You’re pulling up such a pretty performance for him, aren’t you?”, Heeseung groaned. He tried to control himself not to grab your ass too hard, so he wouldn’t leave any marks on your skin, but you were sucking him in so good, he couldn’t deal with it properly.

Geonu’s hand slapped hard and fast against his pelvis, the noise mixing with the noise of Heeseung’s balls against your ass. It all became too much and you knew you’d cum in any second. You were moaning incoherent stuff, babbling and drooling over the sheets, knuckles turning white from the strength you put into holding the sheets. Geonu knew you were about to cum, he had a hard time knowing if he looked at your hazed face or your pussy being pounded roughly.

“I can’t”, you moaned, trying to hold longer.

“Then cum, make a mess”, Heeseung groaned. And you did.

You moaned loudly, your breath hectic in the middle of your whining afterward. Heeseung kept fucking you restlessly, chasing his own orgasm. After your cloud nine was gone, you started whining and trying to close your legs, shaking like Jell-O. Geonu came hard, groaning as his cum spurted down his hand.

In 15 seconds, Heeseung came hard inside of his condom, groaning just as hard as Geonu did. He slowly removed himself from your insides, allowing you to finally lay on the bed, shaky.

You thought it would be awful, but turns out cuckolding was not bat at all.

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 13: Sex, Drugs & Rock n Roll

Word Count: 1000

Rating: T

Pairing: (All in relationships that are talked about) Eddie x Reader, Jeff x Barb

CW: Language, talk of sex

Summary: The guys make a bet to see who can go the longest without sex

This is for my girls @munson-blurbs @the-unforgivenn @rip-quizilla and @word-wytch. The idea for this fic came from an extremely entertaining conversation about the CC guys’ sex lives 😂

@corrodedcoffinfest

“I could so be high and not have chips.”

Eddie, Jeff, and Frank chuckle, knowing Gareth’s claim is wholly false. 

“I don’t think you could even give up chips sober,” Frank says. 

The four friends are at Jeff’s apartment, getting high while watching Weekend at Bernie’s. 

“What?” Gareth asks, brushing his hands together to get rid of chip dust. “You think I don’t have any willpower?”

“Out of the four of us? You definitely have the least,” Eddie says before taking another drag. 

“That’s bullshit.” 

“Wanna bet?” Jeff asks.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Gareth declares. 

“On who can go the longest without chips?” Jeff laughs. “Dude, you’re the only one who would go into withdrawal. We’d kick your ass.”

“Fine,” Gareth says as he gets off the burgundy couch. He stumbles over to the television and switches it off.

“Hey!”

“What the hell?”

“Dude!”

Gareth’s doing his best to stare them down and Eddie doesn’t have the heart to tell him it’s not working.

“What’s something we all like, huh? Be a real test of willpower?” Gareth asks.

“Music?” Frank suggests.

“Nah, that’s unavoidable. Grocery store? Music. Elevator? Music,” Eddie points out. 

“Oh.” The way Gareth’s eyes light up after he says it makes the guys worried. “I know exactly how we can test who has the best willpower.”

“And what’s that?” Jeff asks.

“I’ll even lay down twenty—no, fifty dollars on this bet,” Gareth says.

“Just tell us,” Eddie whines.

“I wager I can go the longest without having sex,” Gareth says with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Dude, really?” Eddie asks. “You want us to give up sex?”

“What’s wrong, Eddie?” Gareth taunts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t think you could do it? Don’t have the willpower?”

“No, I just like fucking my girlfriend,” Eddie says with a laugh. 

“I’ll take that action—er, bet,” Jeff says, surprising Eddie.

“What?” Eddie practically shouts.

“I mean,” Jeff starts with a shrug, “it does seem like a fair test. We all live with our girlfriends.”

“I’m in,” Frank says. “Fifty down for me, too.”

“Means it’s just you who’s out, Eddie,” Gareth taunts. “I’m starting to think you're wussing out on us.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and takes another hit. 

“Jesus, fine, I’ll do it. What’re the rules gonna be?”

“Everyone puts fifty in,” Gareth starts.

“And no one tell their girl,” Jeff adds. “This is about our willpower.” 

“Yeah, that’ll be fun.” Frank’s voice drips in sarcasm. “Ally wants to have sex and I reject her.”

“Just pretend to fall asleep on the couch,” Gareth suggests with a shrug.

“You really think you can keep your hands off Annie?” Eddie asks Gareth, an amused smirk on his face.

“No rule about my hands not being on her.”

“Okay, yeah, that should be clarified,” Jeff says. “When we say, ‘no sex,’ what exactly does that entail?” 

Gareth tilts his head from side to side as he thinks about it.

“No vaginal, oral, or anal,” he decides. “No hand jobs. Basically, your girlfriend can’t get you off in any way and you can’t get her off.”

“We’re idiots for doing this,” Eddie complains.

“Feel free to forfeit and be the loser,” Gareth taunts.

“I could use that extra $150 bucks,” Jeff says. “Weren’t you looking for a new guitar, Ed? This would help.”

“Fuck,” Eddie sighs. 

“So, we’re all agreed?” Gareth asks. “Fifty bucks in for each of us. Starting today, we see who can go the longest without sex.”

The three others confirm their assent—and just in time.

The front door to the apartment opens and Barb steps in. 

“Hi, guys,” she greets as she sets a few grocery bags down.

“Hey, Barb,” they hum in unison. 

“What’re you up to?” she asks.

“Watched Weekend at Bernie’s,” Jeff says, pushing himself off the couch to go kiss his girlfriend. 

“Still going to that bar where the manager wants you guys to play? To finalize things?” Barb asks. 

“Yep,” Eddie replies as he stands up.

Gareth looks down at his watch, then says, “If we leave now, we can get pizza first.”

“Yeah, go get pizza,” Barb says, giving Jeff’s arm a loving squeeze. “I’ve got plenty here I can have for dinner. Just have to unpack it first.”

“Let’s get Surfer Boy,” Gareth suggests as he heads for the door.

The guys mumble their agreement and Barb gives them a wave as they head out.

“Have fun, boys.”

A chorus of “bye Barb” echoes before they’re all out and Jeff closes the door behind him. 

Barb unpacks her bags, keeping an ear out for cars leaving the parking lot. This is the second time the slightly open window has been used to Barb’s advantage in the last ten minutes. 

Once all the food is put away and Barb has checked that the guys have left, she shuffles over to the phone on the wall. She dials your number and impatiently waits for you to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Barb,” she says.

“Oh, hey! What’s up?” you ask.

“I heard our men having an interesting conversation when I got home. I don’t think they realize how loud they talk—or that they had a window open.”

“Oh, God,” you say with a laugh. “What’re they up to now?”

“They’ve made a bet with one another to see who can go the longest without sex,” she says. “And they’re not going to tell us girls about it.”

A giddy gasp comes from the other end of the phone as you think of all the possible ways you could have fun messing with Eddie on this. 

“Oh, Barb,” you croon. “I think we need to call up Ally and Annie and do some lingerie shopping.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Barb confirms. “So happy we’re on the same page of making this bet as hard as possible for them.”

You chuckle.

“I know four women who are suddenly going to become the biggest teases these guys have ever seen.”

[enhard]

yang jungwon - “stage fright”

y. jw x fem!reader

: in which your boyfriend is anxious of a performance coming up, so you decide to help him calm down.

cw: established relationship, smut, one shot, mentions of anxiety, usage of petnames (love, baby etc), ass slapping, unprotected sex, cumming in mouth, oral (m. receiving), jungwon is pretty rough, squirting, bending over, everything is consensual.

not proofread, first fic.

MINORS DNI

———————————————————————

you’ve been close friends with enhypen ever since their debut, also being jungwon’s girlfriend basically made you their younger sister.. of course they’re going to make you attend almost every concert they have.

this particular concert is a huge one, it took many months to plan and so many preparations to do, it seemed like it was never going to be done and yet.. here you are, on the day of the big concert.

they all seem relatively nervous as anyone would be, but jungwon seems more scared than usual. you’re holding his hand tightly backstage, offering him water and reassuring him that everything will be okay while he’s sitting down on a chair, shaking his leg. —

“i’m not sure I can do this..” he says, voice slightly trembling as he holds your hand tighter. “baby, it will be okay. you’ve done this countless times and you were amazing each time.” you smile, caressing his back with your other hand. “i guess you’re right.. thank you sweetheart, i love you.” he gives you a peck, his boba eyes growing as he’s looking at you. an “i love you too” leaves your mouth while wishing that kiss was longer.

his performance should start soon yet here you are, suddenly craving his lips, his touch. you stay silent for a bit, then bite your lip just to let words out. “..how much longer until it starts?” you anxiously ask.. “it.. should start in about 15 minutes. why?” why? oh only if he knew what you had in mind.

your brain is already giggling thinking about it. if you asked him out of the blue he would either accept or you had to suffer thinking about him the whole concert, getting what you want only at home.. and he would have something else on his mind to trouble him during the concert.

still, you bite the bullet and get the courage to act out on it right there. —

“well.. if you’re feeling so stressed.. how about I help you relax a bit, hmm?” you innocently smirk at him, playing with his fingers. he squints his eyes at you, wondering what you have in mind.. “what do you mean, love..?”knowing EXACTLY what you mean. your smile grows bigger as you intertwine your fingers with his. you help him stand up and give him another peck. “come with me.” before he can say anything, you’re already in a more reserved place. where the other members or staff can’t see you. there’s nothing in this room except unused props for the backdrop and a table full of empty boxes.

you immediately close the door and crash your lips on his, crossing your arms around his neck. he grabs you by your waist, pulling you closer to him. you can already feel his cock hardening on your thigh which just makes you smile into the kiss. “baby.. we don’t have a lot of time” he says in between kisses. and he’s right. you need to hurry this up.

you let out a low moan in agreement as you move your hands down to the hem of his pants. you gently play with that for a few moments before moving your hand down to palm his bulge through his pants. you massage him as you’re making out and it seems like he’s really enjoying this.. he starts grinding against your hand just to feel some more pleasure.

his breathing and heart rate becomes more rapid and without warning, he grabs your hair in a makeshift ponytail, pushing your lips harder on his, making you gasp. - he uses this small opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth, your kisses getting as heated as ever. “won..wait..” but he doesn’t wait. he knows you want this more than ever.

he lets go of your hair to throw those empty boxes off the table, onto the floor. he makes space to bend your pretty body over the table for him. he caresses your back, slowly making his way to your ass.. giving it a hard slap. “mmh.. love..please.. keep doing that.. fuck..” he lets out a small chuckle hearing that.. his attitude changing drastically. “slut, you want me this bad? have you been waiting to let me fuck you?” those words followed by another stinging slap. you almost scream, grabbing your hairstrands with your fingers to ease the pain. “fucking.. hell y..yes..I need you.. right now.”

and he does exactly that. you feel him leaving your ass alone for now, to take his pants off halfway. since you’re wearing a skirt, he easily travels his hands up your skirt to take your panties off in one move. seeing how wet your panties are, he can’t help but lick his lips. “you got this wet for me baby?”

you desperately nod, feeling so empty, getting impatient already. he gives you another hard slap, bringing tears to your eyes. “use your words brat.” he’s officially driving you insane. you begin stuttering, hardly thinking straight anymore. “i’m.. w..wet all for.. y..you.. pleasee.. f..fuck me..”

“good girl.” is all you can hear escape his lips, accompanied by the sound of him slipping his boxers half off. he pumps his cock a few times, before lifting up your skirt to shove it all in you little by little. surprisingly he’s being gentle, not wanting to hurt you in any way.

you already squirm under him, before he starts thrusting. but when he starts at a slow pace, you try to moan as quietly as you can. he lets out a moan himself, closing his eyes and grabbing your hips. after a bit, he picks up his pace, holding onto your hips so hard he’s leaving many indents with his nails. you can only use your arms as a headrest while you let jungwon fuck you this good.

the room quickly gets filled by moans and grunts from both you and jungwon, luckily nobody outside can hear, or else it would’ve been an awkward conversation to have with the others.

before he picks up his pace even more, he gives you another slap over the ass, just as harsh as the others, making you furrow your eyebrows in pain. it hurt. badly. but you couldn’t get enough. you loved it all too much.

with his pace getting even faster you felt a tight knot in your stomach, trying your best not to let it snap now. but it was getting unbearable. jungwon was getting so deep inside you with each thrust, hitting all good spots. it was impossible.

“f..fuck i’m gonna..cum..” you moan, clenching around him more and more with each thrust of his. he coos, trying his best to go as fast as he can for you. “cum.. for me baby.. cum all over my cock.” in a few thrusts, you make his wish come true. you let out a loud moan, squirting all over him. but that doesn’t stop him. he loses the grasp on your hips, instead grabbing each side of the table to bend over you. he reaches down to your neck to bite it, letting out small moans with each thrust.

he can’t handle it much longer either, you can feel him twitching inside you more often, showing that he’s about to cum too. he overstimulated you so badly, it was time you two finished. when you hear his breathing getting even heavier than before, that’s when you knew he was very close.

you let him thrust a few more times, before pushing him off you, giving yourself enough space to get on your knees. you immediately take him in your mouth, waiting for him to finish. you bop your head back and forth, while he grabs that table again. he moans with each head movement, so you decide to do something more.. fun.

you take his cock out of your mouth to stroke him with your mouth open, looking up at him. “cum in my mouth baby, come on.” you stick your tongue out to give him a little show and he just loses it. he throws his head back for a split second before looking back at you, seeing his cum shoot in your mouth. you swallow it all, and give him a smile after, still pumping him a few times.

he helps you get up, giving you a kiss. “i love you so much.” he says, fixing up your hair a bit. “i love you more baby.” you say back, already helping him clean up and put his clothes back on. you also fix his hair and wipe the sweat off his forehead.

as you’re both still fixing up yourselves, you hear the speaker voice calling enhypen’s name. it was almost time for the performance. you smile at jungwon, giving him one last kiss.

“now.. let me see you on the stage.”

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Omg I love all your Donna x reader fanfics, they are so good. ✨🤌🏼

If possible, ever since your last story I've been wondering how I'd be if reader went down on Donna and her being all shy (bj basically) or if Donna would try another position 🙈👀

I need some SPICY content 😍

And thanks! 🤭

Yesss!!! Here it is!! I hope you like it!!! Thank you for your nice words :))) Sorry about the language mistakes

Movie night

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, G!P Donna, oral sex, fluff...

Word count: 3,392

Summary: You don't want to keep watching that movie...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes, requests are open!! I love you all :))))

“Are you bored, tesoro?” Donna asked, gently running her hand over your cheek.

It was an ordinary night, like all the nights you had spent in that house, with her.

Taking such an important step as leaving your home and going to live in the dark and gloomy Beneviento estate may have been a bit hasty, but it was worth it from the first moment.

Your relationship was better than ever. Despite Donna's problems, her absurd and almost ridiculous shyness when it came to turning off the light and joining your bodies, everything simply got better with time, like good wine does.

“Oh, no, I’m not” you lied blatantly, shaking your head and with a deeply suspicious smile.

The dim light of an old lamp and the white screen on which you watched movies became a kind of lullaby that forced your eyelids to close without wanting to.

“Honey, you're falling asleep,” your girlfriend said, amused, with a sympathetic look on her face.

The fear that the woman you loved generated in the people of the village didn't matter; the only thing you could feel towards her was love.

“No, that's a lie,” you said indignantly, putting your legs up on the old couch. “I'm watching the movie.”

“The last time you said that, you took care of putting it’s soundtrack on your own, with your snoring,” she said, in a mocking tone, but one that betrayed a certain annoyance. “Tell me the truth, are you bored with me?”

You huffed, sitting up and rolling your eyes. You were already used to her doubts and infinite insecurity.

“No, Donna. I always have a great time with you,” you said, cupping her face in your hands, perhaps too roughly. “It's just that…”

“It’s just that?” She interrupted nervously before you continued the sentence.

“It's just that I like to do other things at night,” you said, diverting the conversation to your territory with the seductive tone that made her hands start to tremble.

As you suspected, Donna laughed nervously, looking away so your mischievous eyes wouldn't exert their bad influence on her.

“You're always thinking about the same thing, tesoro,” she whispered amused, leaning down to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

“With a woman like you by my side, I can't think about anything else,” you purred, deepening the kiss and pressing her chest to gently lay her down on the couch.

“Wait, wait, (Y/N)... If, if you want we can go to the bedroom and…” she said nervously, grabbing your wrists before they started to undo the buttons on her dress.

“You know what?” You said, freeing yourself from her grip and returning to your previous position, stretching exaggeratedly. “We better finish watching the movie. It’s interesting.”

Her expression was just what you were looking for: complete bewilderment. You always tried to remind yourself not to play too much with poor Donna. She rarely understood the fact that you were joking, or that you were saying something without the intention of hurting or offending her in some way.

“What? You're not watching it,” the doll maker protested, her expression hardening, with a childish rage on her face.

“Yes, I'm,” you said cockily, resting a hand on your chin, pretending to look carefully at the white screen.

“Oh, are you? What's the name of the main character?” She asked defiantly getting a bit closer to you, arms crossed.

“I don't know,” you said without relaxing your cocky expression. “If you don't stop talking, I can't hear it.”

“(Y/N), it's a silent movie,” she whispered, changing her serious and offended expression to an amused one as she gently pushed your shoulder.

You, embarrassed by your mistake, hid the blush on your cheeks by placing a finger on your lips.

“Shh…”

“I can't stand you, really,” the lady in black sighed, shaking her head.

“Oh, come on, don't be mad, Donna,” you said, laughing, grabbing her unsuspecting hand as you lay on her lap, looking at her.

She looked back at you with her relaxed face, playing with your hand in hers, tangling your fingers.

“I can't be mad at you, tesoro. You always have that advantage over me,” she said almost in a whisper, running her other hand over your face as your smile grew wider and wider. “Come on, let's finish watching the movie and then... Well, I'm sure you have something on your mind.”

After kissing you lovingly again, her gaze shifted to the screen.

I'm sure you have something on your mind.

That phrase, which served as the end to that small interruption in your movie nights, was decisive for the dark side of your lust to think in your place, sending endless naughty possibilities to your mind.

With a fake sigh, you sat up again, resting your head on her shoulder as she continued to tease you with her caresses. A tickling between your legs finally gave you the courage to put your lascivious thoughts into practice.

Your head moved slightly, enough to make the exposed skin of Donna's neck tingle involuntarily as she felt your breath on it. You loved how easy was for her body to react to your touch.

Your lips kissed her skin carefully, with slow and fast kisses, pulling away just as her body began to tremble due to the contact.

You directed your gaze towards hers. She seemed to be very focused on the movie, but one of her hands betrayed her incipient nervousness, gripping the fabric of her dress tightly.

You laughed gutturally, increasing the intensity of your kisses on her neck while your hand traveled slowly, but without the intention of stopping, towards her legs.

“(Y/N)...” Donna whispered, turning her head towards you, looking at you strangely. “What are you doing?”

“Shhh...” You whispered just as your hand began to go down to insert itself inside her dress, caressing her knee, moving a finger in circles over it. “Keep watching the movie.”

“No, I can't if you're... Ah! (Y/N)!” She said excitedly when your naughty hand continued to rise, gently caressing the bulge between her legs.

“Relax, I'm just playing,” you said amused, biting her earlobe mercilessly.

“Can't we play in the bedroom? At least let me turn this thing off...” She said, nervous about how that lump began to grow in your hand, making your legs tighten together with desire.

“No, leave it on. Don't move, Donna,” you said seductively, caressing her incipient erection while your kisses continued along her jawline until they made contact with her lips.

“(Y/N)...” The woman in black gasped, moving her hips discreetly, preventing the friction that your hand exerted on her most intimate area from disappearing.

In a matter of seconds, the kisses became wild, eager. A simple caress was more than enough for Donna to give in to her own desire.

Your body moved next to his, making your hips dance together, intensifying the subtle contact. You smiled triumphantly at the small moans that your movements caused her.

With a mischievous, hungry gasp, you pulled away from her, your hand gripping her hardness through her clothes as she moaned at the loss of your hot body on hers.

“You're playing with me? You know I hate that…” Donna said in her hoarse voice, with that strong accent that only appeared when she wasn't fully in control of herself.

“Be patient, Beneviento...” You purred removing your hand from her erection and launching yourself at her neck again, kissing her softly, lightly marking your teeth on her pale, shiny skin. “I have something for you…”

“For me?” She asked curiously, blinking profusely with her eye.

“Uh-huh,” you said simply, running your hand over her chest, sneaking under her clothes. You didn't know when some of the buttons on her dress had been undone. Surely it was you in your unbridled lust.

Not wanting to give any more explanations and enjoying her sudden impatience, you slowly got off the couch until you were on your knees in front of her. As it could not be otherwise, Donna looked at you with a frown.

“What are you going to do?” Donna asked as your hands returned to her legs, separating them.

“You don't like surprises, do you?” You asked back, biting your lower lip, anticipating in your mind what was going to happen. “You are always so good to me, Donna… You always make me enjoy so much… I just want to return the favor.”

“Oh, no. There's no need,” she said, looking away from her abruptly, embarrassed. I could probably guess what you were referring to.

“Lie down, my love...”  You said, ignoring her obvious discomfort and slowly lifting her dress.

“Wait, wait,”-she interrupted you, disobeying your request and grabbing your hands before the entire bottom of her body was exposed.

“What's wrong, my pretty Donna? Come on, let yourself go. You'll like it, I promise,” you said, resting your head on her knees, running a finger along her bare leg.

“It's humiliating for you, I don't want you to do something like that just for me,” she said, not daring to look you in the eyes.

“Nonsense, I want to do it. I want to do it because I love you, Donna, and because I want to give back to you a small part of what you give to me,” you said, insisting, knowing that as much as it embarrassed her, the fabric of her dress gave away  the fact that she was actually wanting you to do it.

“I...” She murmured, unable to contain the trembling of her legs.

You stood up, putting a hand on her half-exposed chest, pushing her back against the couch and kissing her softly again.

“Do you really not want to? I'm not going to insist, Donna,” you said in a more relaxed tone, your instincts curbed by her confused look.

“Well, I... It's just... It's embarrassing,” she murmured, holding your chin.

“But you want me to do it, right?” You asked, determined that her answer would make the decision.

“I... Yes...” Donna said, in a tone so low that you had a hard time hearing it, while she nodded slowly and her face took on a reddish tone.

You nodded too, kissing her one last time before going down again, lifting her dress completely and revealing the quivering erection that her underwear could no longer contain.

“I wanted to do this so badly...” You purred, pushing the fabric out of your way, pulling it down over her ankles as you stared in shock at her erect penis.

“Please, please... Don’t, don't say those things,” Donna protested, bringing a hand to her mouth and biting her knuckle at the sensation of having you so intimately close to her.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized falsely, inching closer, reaching out with one hand to keep her length right where you wanted it.

Your hand remained firm, carefully hugging her dick as your lips brushed against the tip, kissing it slowly, causing the trembling of her legs to become accentuated with a surprised moan.

Leaning on your knees, you brought your mouth even closer, introducing part of her erection into it, sucking slowly, enjoying the caresses that your lips made on her skin and the reactions they provoked in Donna.

“(Y/N), that's...” She moaned, writhing on the couch.

You smiled discreetly, going down further, covering her entire length with your mouth, savoring every inch with soft, rhythmic movements of your hand.

“You're delicious, Donna...” You murmured before running your tongue over her skin, stopping right at the tip, making her moans increase in volume and intensity. “You like it that way?”

Donna simply nodded, her eye closed, squeezed tightly to avoid the temptation to open it and take in the scene in front of her, the way you kissed, sucked and licked the part of her body that embarrassed her the most.

You laughed again, resuming your movements, making them slower, more careful, wrapping your lips around the tip, holding it between them before sucking.

You opened your eyes for a moment, curious to know what the woman in black was doing. Just as you thought, she was nervous, trembling from the pleasure you were giving her, but embarrassed by it.

Her hands were limited to grabbing her dress. She couldn't stop her hips from shaking every time your mouth moved down her penis, every time you stopped to caress it up and down with your tongue. Her shyness was even adorable.

Your free hand left her knee to go up to one of hers, gently grabbing  bringing it to the back of your head, causing it to tangle in your hair.

“I... I like it, (Y/N)... You are... Your mouth is... Perfect,”  she murmured embarrassed, blinded by desire, by the movement that her hand involuntarily exerted on your head, raising and lowering it to the rhythm of her hips.

You moaned as you felt how she moved you herself, how the pleasure overcame her embarrassment. The vibration you caused on her skin bounced right between your legs, making the burning desire you felt unbearable.

Your hand played with your own underwear, while the rhythm of your mouth stabilized to match her moans. Although you were paying attention to studying each of your movements and Donna's response to them, you began to caress yourself, running your folds through the fabric, playing with your own wetness.

“It's so hard,” you whispered sensually, eliciting an embarrassing laugh from her lips, a laugh that she drowned out when you continued moving. “You drive me crazy, Donna.”

“(Y/N),” she whispered, with difficulty, adapting to your increase in speed and the small jerks that your body made when you began to touch yourself. “Slower, do it slower…”

The taste of her arousal was present in your mouth as you managed to stabilize yourself and maintain a steady rhythm. If you combined it with your own caresses, the sensation was overwhelming.

“I love having you in my mouth,” you whispered with a smile, keeping your mouth on the tip, noticing how it trembled, how embarrassingly close it was to completely succumbing to that new sensation.

“Don't say those... Oh, tesoro... Wait, wait,” she said panting, trying in vain to move away from you.

“What's wrong?” You asked, raising your head, continuing to move your hand up and down, carefully squeezing her dick, right where you knew it drove her crazy.

“Yes, if you keep doing it I’m going to...” Donna murmured, tightening her grip on your hair.

“Well, that's what I want, darling... Don't hold back...” you said amused, removing your hand from your wetness and releasing her grip on your head.

“No, no, wait... This isn't... Oh, please...” She gasped again between moans when your mouth went down her length again, with more intensity.

The wet sound of your actions was only overshadowed by her nervous breathing, by the erratic movements of her hips. She was so close and you were so excited by it...

“Wait, wait, wait, stop,” the lady in black said suddenly, moving your head away from between her legs.

“What's wrong now?” You asked, disappointed at missing the spectacle of seeing how she released herself right where you wanted.

“Come, come here,” she said hurriedly, placing herself on the couch while she tried to move your body. “I want, I want to do it inside of you, tesoro. Please…”

“Oh,” you said, letting yourself be dragged on top of her hips with a sigh. “You don’t like it?”

“Yes, I like it,” she responded instantly, placing her erection at your entrance, but not inserting it. “I'm afraid I like it too much,” she said amused. “Please… I need… I need…”

“Shhh, calm down, my dear Donna...” You whispered, lowering yourself little by little, making your slippery moisture find no difficulty in adapting to her dick.

Donna moaned at the contact, feeling a strange kind of relief. There was nothing in the world that could compare to the feeling of her tightening your walls and moving inside you. At least for Donna.

Once your body fully adjusted, you began to move slowly, enjoying the overwhelming feeling of her penis inside you trembling, on the verge of losing control.

“Oh, Donna... You're so... Good,” you said, with labored breathing.

She moaned in response, running her hands along your back, helping you move with that slow pace that you sensed was so the fun wouldn't end prematurely.

Unexpectedly, she came out with a nervous gasp. You looked at her strangely, but you didn't want to protest, since, with a quick movement, Donna turned your body, making you lie face down on the couch.

“Well, well... We're naughty...” You said in a mocking tone, raising your hips towards her, who moved slowly until she was standing behind you.

“Don't talk anymore, (Y/N). I always wanted to do this,” Donna said in your ear, grabbing your legs to keep them in place, approaching her slowly, playing with her length at your entrance.

You didn't want to say anything and besides, you couldn't do it. Donna entered you immediately, causing your walls to tighten in a different way due to this new position.

“Oh, keep going,” you managed to say as your body began to bounce against the couch due to her more erratic than usual thrusts.

The creak of the old furniture was the only distinguishable sound in that tangle of hurried gasps and moans. Donna took you intensely, but the way she caressed you served as a reminder that she loved you, that she was never going to let you stop feeling that way.

“It hugs me so well, (Y/N)... You're so wet,” she murmured, slowing her hips so you could hear her. “I can't wait any longer, I need to fill you...”

It wasn't normal for Donna to use those kinds of words with you. She only did it when her arousal completely overcame her, when she was about to release herself.

Those lustful whispers were more than enough to make your body tense in surprise. You were so busy making her enjoy your actions that you had forgotten how embarrassingly close you were to your own release.

A muffled moan was what gave away your orgasm, making your body arch between jolts of pleasure.

Donna took advantage of that to pull you back, holding you in a way where she could continue her thrusts, being gentler this time.

“Have you cum, darling? How anxious...” She said amusedly, running a hand over your chest to hold it while her own rhythm destabilized.

“Aren't you supposed to be shy?” You asked teasingly, moving your hips in a way that you knew would make her melt instantly.

Donna simply laughed before her hips moved faster and faster until finally, with one last thrust, she released herself inside of you, filling you with her heat as her body trembled.

When you caught your breath, she laid you down lovingly on the couch and climbed on top of you to kiss your lips slowly, caressing you with trembling hands.

“I love you,” you said with a smile, which she returned.

“I love you, (Y/N),” she said softly, resting her head on your chest.

“Look, it looks like the movie is over,” you said, amused.

“(Y/N),” she said, now with a slightly more serious tone. “What you have done to me…”

“What? Did you like it?” You asked, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear.

She nodded embarrassedly, not being able to maintain eye contact with you.

“Well, I'm glad because it was the first time I did it,” you said with a smile, grabbing her chin so she wouldn't avoid your gaze.

“We should... You know... Clean us up,” Donna said shyly, with that familiar blush on her cheeks.

“Would you like a bath?”

“Sure”

“Maybe if you feel like it... We can repeat...” You whispered, running a hand over her chest.

“(Y/N), I need to rest, Donna said, amused, shaking her head.

“We'll see about that,” you challenged, getting up from the couch and grabbing her hand to drag her next to you.

“I'm going to activate Angie,” the woman in black threatened, stumbling due to your haste.

“No, you're not going to do it,” you said, walking through the dark hallways of the basement.

“(Y/N)...”

[lovemomhatepolice]

lando norris nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) No matter how rough and long you have sex, Lando behaves like a typical Lando afterwards. Of course he giggles under his breath, as if it was his first time. And he freaking blushes!!! He then loves to cuddle up to you even more (as he stresses - you need to appreciate the contact of naked body to naked body) and you lie together for a long time before you go to prepare a bath together or a quick shower (depending on your mood) while you wash each other. Oh, how he loves to wash your hair….

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Lando loves his abs in himself. Well, I beg to differ, superbly muscled, gym-trained…. Yes, Lando is definitely proud of it, and especially when he sees that you like it too. That works on him the most. He also likes her eyes, I think for many reasons, but I beg - who wouldn't love those bright beautiful eyes? Exactly!!!

What does Lando love about you? I think it will also be the eyes. The boy loves to look into them and could do it for hours. They are such a damn mystery to him, and yet he knows them so well. He loves to look into them when you are happy and they sparkle or when you squint them with laughter. But he definitely loves to look into them when you close them from the euphoria that grips your body during your sex. A better view Lando has never seen before, I promise.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Lando loves to see you in his cum. I know how it may sound, but there is no better sight for him than your lips around his cock or your shapely breasts that are all in his seed.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Without hiding it, Lando has fantasized more than once and more than twice about being completely dominated by you. The very fact that he adores you on top during sex says a lot. He loves it when you take control, and all he has to do is hold your hips to support you as you bounce. Even so, this doesn't happen too often and mostly Lando takes control, but in his head for a very long time exactly such thoughts have been forming….

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) I wouldn't say that Lando is some very experienced. He had a few sexual experiences with other women before you, but nothing binding (except his previous girlfriend), so I think he only started to discover the depths of sex with you. But you can't deny that he is vague or can't do something. God, I swear, Lando is the fulfillment of your every need.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Nothing fancy, let's not kid ourselves - despite the fact that you are young, you do not overdo it. Lando's and your favorite positions? Oh, definitely cowgirl. Norris loves to see your breasts bouncing right in front of his face. When you let out a quiet moan as he fills you to the brim. When he can look at your face constantly and sneak kisses that aren't very precise. And his other beloved position is total wall sex. No matter where - whether in the shower or in the kitchen or even in the hallway. Lando loves to do this, especially since at this point you are completely dependent on him and he hugs you with his whole body.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Well, I beg you - you know Lando. The giggles in your bedroom (and not just your bedroom) are an integral part of sex. As I mentioned - the boy also blushes all the time. So no, serious sex with him is not an option. Even if you have a damn intense and romantic moment, Norris will always pull out some funny line and say it. Unless he is angry, oh, then his laughter you won't hear for a damn thing, but how long does it last? A maximum of two hours and it passes. Lando can't get mad.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) I don't think this is one of the thoughts that occupies his head in any particular way, but I think he has a neat. He shaves there out of habit, but it's not always a 100 percent shave, so I think you've seen a light stubble more than once. And as for you, I think he doesn't have too many requirements either. As long as it was neat and hygienic, yes it gives you free rein. After all, it's not his body (well, kinda like that…), the decision is yours.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Well, all right, but despite his giggles and funny tics, you will hear from his mouth lots and lots of comments about yourself. How good you are to him, how great he feels, how much he loves you…. Lando is a romantic - he may not show it too often in a serious way, but all of his still small youthful acts (even though he is already 25) are infused with love. If you tell him once that you want to make love by candlelight in a bathtub full of foam - voila! The next day, or maybe even the same day, your wish comes true.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Well, Lando does not shy away from masturbation. Rather, he doesn't practice it often because you are constantly next to each other and his level of sexual gratification is in the right place, but if you happen to be away, why not? But it should be acknowledged that he has never masturbated to any videos or photos or anything not related to you since your relationship began.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Dom/Sub sex - As I mentioned before, Lando often has thoughts in his head that you should totally dominate him. But I don't mean some kind of BDSM (although…) or degradation. Simple domination over him, though, here. Since you are 50/50 in life…. Well, and maybe a little voyeurism - he wouldn't mind if you entered the room, if he was just masturbating. Or the other way around. He himself also would not forgive such a view.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Couch or shower. I don't know why, Lando just has it that way. He loves sex on the couch probably because then you're mostly upstairs and he can spread out on your damn comfy couch. And the shower? That's the realm of greater intimacy for him. He really enjoys taking a bath with you, even when it's just a simple bath - without sexual overtones.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) You. Simply you. Lando still has a boner with you, which is of course damn funny for you, but well, don't kid yourself, we both know that you also get your panties wet at the sight of him. Whether morning or evening, whether in sweatpants or a elegant dress. It doesn't matter to him. You are so damn beautiful and exciting to him that such silly things as clothing go away. You could even be in a straitjacket and he would continue to appear extremely clingy next to you.

A/N: part two is already here! english is my second language i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 200 followers! maybe I can get in by the end of the week?

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

mr. clean

pairing: pre-re2 leon x best friend's mom reader

cw: oral sex, older woman/younger man, smut and fluff

summary: the part two to cool mom's countdown! there will likely be a part three as well (bc they're falling in love) but basically, leon just learns to eat pussy in this one lol

a/n: the title is a reference to the yung gravy song of the same name (i couldn't decide which lyric i wanted to make the title, plus leon would never say any of those things he's too sweet)

wc: 1.8k

link to part 1

It was Spring the next time you saw Leon.

You kept your distance when Leon first arrived, only making an appearance to serve snacks to the boys. Your poor planning left you alone that night. You were hoping to get a moment alone with Leon to propose the idea of having more personal time together that night or the next morning. Leon didn’t need to be asked, he snuck downstairs and found you on the back porch, sipping a cup of tea. 

You heard the sliding door squeak and you turned to find a handsome young blond. You tried not to smile too big, fearing you’d develop wrinkles. 

“I couldn’t sleep…” Leon said, stepping out into the cool midnight air.

“Funny,” you said, brushing a hand across his cheek, “you look pretty sleepy to me.”

His eyelids drooped and he looked like he was about to doze off standing up. 

“You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think you remembered that I always have trouble sleeping, so you stayed up to come see me.”

“Maybe…”

“How’d you find me out here?”

“You always come out here. I remember when I was little and I really couldn’t sleep and you let me drink some of your tea.”

“Oh yeah,” you said, recalling the memory, “and you hated it.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna try it now that you’re all grown-up?” you teased. 

“Sure.”

You handed him the mug and he sipped it. He paused, waited for the aftertaste, and then shook his head.

“Still don’t like it, huh?”

“No, but, uh, thank you for letting me try it again…” He handed it back to you, daintily despite his large hands. 

“I’m assuming you didn’t come out here to ask for a sip of my tea,” you say. 

“No, ma’am,” he said, scratching the back of his head nervously, “I guess I just like being around you.”

“Well, thank you, honey,” you said, rubbing his shoulder. You had the comforting touch of a mother, you could coax him into meeting your eyes without a single word spoken. 

He hadn’t changed too much - same baby blue eyes, same bashful smile. You wondered if anything about him had changed - a girlfriend? Were you still the only woman lucky enough to get your hands on him? The subject naturally came up during your conversation.  

“Are there girls at the academy?” you asked him. 

“Not like you.”

“What am I like?” You were giggling like a teenager, struck by Cupid’s arrow for the first time. 

“Beautiful.” There was a certain weight to it. It wasn’t ‘you’re so sexy’ like men your age would drunkenly slur out, begging you to come home with them. Leon was sober, untainted by alcohol, heartache, or even time. The moonlight reflected on his face, making him look angelic. Rightfully so

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, apropos of nothing, and yet, expected all the same. 

You hummed an affirmative as you leaned in and pressed your lips against Leon’s. His lips were pillowy soft and you couldn’t help but imagine what else he could do with them. It didn’t go further than kissing that night. You pulled back, smiled at him and said, “Why don’t you stay a little while tomorrow?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You made breakfast for the boys and sent your son off to baseball practice.

“Do you want a ride home, Leon?” he called on his way out. 

“No,” you stepped in, giving him the alibi, “He’s going to help me with some housework… since I don’t get any help from you.” Yeah, the accusation, that got him to leave swiftly. Couldn’t get him to do the dishes if his life depended on it. 

From behind you, Leon asked, “What kind of housework are we doing?” 

You laughed, “None, baby, not unless you really want to. I was planning on doing something a little more fun.”

“Oh, sure, yeah, I’m fine with whatever you want.” Always so eager to please, Leon probably would have done chores for you if you’d asked him. You weren’t one to take advantage of such a sweet boy, though. 

“How about you come upstairs with me?” You stretched out your hand for him to take, and you led him to your bedroom. 

You immediately reclined on the bed while Leon lingered in the doorway, unsure of what to do. 

“Come sit down,” you said, patting the spot next to you. 

When he climbed into your bed, he sat close to you, his sweatpants against your bare thigh. “Leon?” you said softly. 

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever gone down on a girl?”

“No, not yet.”

“Would you like to?”

“If you’ll teach me how.”

“Of course. It’s not hard.”

His eyes lit up at the idea of you teaching him. You figured he might be the type of guy who’d be into that sort of thing. A mama’s boy, a teacher’s pet.

“What do I do first?”

“We should probably start by just kissing before we get to that.”

“Oh yeah, I can do that.”

His kisses began soft and slow, you had to coax him into deeper, tongue-filled kisses, but he was a fast learner. You felt his breath quicken and his dick getting hard against your leg as you continued kissing him. 

“Can I see you?” He asked, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

“Yeah. In fact, it was getting a little hot in here.” You winked and removed your shirt. 

He marveled at your breasts which were still concealed by your bra. You wore a pretty lace one for him, and the discomfort was well worth it to see his eyes widen with desire. 

“Think you can handle taking it off?” You asked. It took an experienced man to take off a bra, so you didn’t expect much from Leon. Just trying was enough. 

“I’ll try my best.”

“Good.”

You played with his hair and watched the redness rise in his cheeks. He fumbled with the clasp with shaky hands. Clearly he didn’t have much experience. It took him a moment, but he was successful.

“I’m proud of you, honey.” Your words were genuine, he could hear it in your voice, and it made his heart flutter. 

“Thank you,” he said, his pitch faltering. 

Most men who entered your bedroom did so at night, usually a bit drunk, none of them bothering to turn on the lights. The light illuminating your body was an unavoidable one. You had Leon in the morning, and he made you feel okay with the idea of being seen - his adoration for you made you shy. To be loved is to be known, to be known is to be seen in the daylight.

His fingers trembled when he unbuttoned your jeans, but he managed to get the zipper down. His appetite was his only helper, he yearned for something he’d never had the fortune of tasting.

“Just do what feels right. As long as you don’t bite, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

He gulped and nodded, sliding your panties down. They matched your bra. You dressed up all sexy for him, though he would’ve happily taken you without all the frills. Maybe that’s why you put more effort into your appearance when you were with him. To match his utter devotion (you would only ever feel half the admiration he would for you). He revered you as a goddess. 

 You noticed his hesitation. “Start by touching it. I won’t ask you to use your mouth until you’re sure you’re ready.”

He placed his hands on your inner thighs and you helped him by spreading them for him. “Don’t be nervous, honey,” you said, running your hands through his hair.  

“Wanna make you feel good,” he said. 

“You will. I already feel good just being around you.” Yeah, it’s cheesy, but it got a smile out of him. 

He started by rubbing his fingers along your folds gently. He noticed the way your breath hitched when his fingertips brushed your clit. 

“Does it feel good when I do this?” He wasn’t even trying to talk dirty. His utter sincerity made his words even hotter.

“Yes, baby,” you said, breathier now, “It feels so good when you touch me there.”

He started to rub circles over your clit now that you’d told him where it was. “Can I use my mouth now?” 

“Of course. Whenever you’re ready.”

Leon began with little kitten licks and then began to run his tongue along your lower lips, which were all puffy and wet, (they had been before he’d touched you). 

“Did I make you wet?”

“Mhm, it’s all you.”

The encouragement had him diving back in, lapping at your folds. He wasn’t skilled by any means, but his enthusiasm made up for his lack of experience. When you pulled his hair, you felt the movements of his tongue increase in speed and he pressed his face further into you. There was an insatiable desire inside him, an addiction that began the moment he first tasted you. 

“You can put your fingers in me, too, if you want,” you suggested.

“Just one?” he asked, inserting his middle finger, which made you moan. “Or two?” He didn’t wait for your answer before he inserted his index finger and watched your reaction. 

“Yes,” you said, “Two, baby, feels so good.” As he pumped them in and out, his tongue returned to your pussy. He looked up at you with his baby blue eyes. “Curl your fingers up,” you said, showing him with your own hand. He did as you asked and you moaned loudly. 

He studied you, and managed to figure out where you liked his mouth best - your clit, obviously. 

“Leon,” you said, breathing heavily, “you can suck on it, too, just lightly-” you had something else to say, but it didn’t matter because he started to suck on your clit and you were cut off by your own moan. 

Your legs were trembling at this point. “Oh my god, Leon, keep doing that.” You hooked your legs around him and ran your fingers through his hair. “You’re gonna make me cum.” 

Upon hearing that, he moaned into your core. It sent you over the edge. You nearly suffocated him with your thighs when you came. You felt bad for pulling his hair, but he loved it. If you hadn’t been completely taken by your own orgasm, you would’ve noticed. He was brave enough to tell you the next time you saw him. Arousal gave him a certain bravado. 

After you finished, he said, “Did I do okay?”

You laughed. “Yes, you did great. I thought that was obvious.”

You offered to help him out, to return the favor. But, sheepishly, he revealed that he didn’t need any help from you. You could see the wet spot on his underwear. You didn’t realize he was rutting against the mattress the whole time. 

“You had a lot of fun, huh?”

“Yeah.” His voice wavered when he spoke.

You stifled the laugh that threatened to escape your mouth. 

“Does this mean we have to be done?” he asked sheepishly. 

“Think you’ve got another round in you?”

He nodded and climbed on top of you, ready to kiss you with your slick still on his lips. 

“Already?” you said when you noticed he was already hard again. 

“Yeah,” he said with a light laugh. You could see embarrassment shift to pride when he saw how pleased you were to see that he was ready to go again almost immediately.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - I'm having a GREAT time

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Aug 2024 Week 5

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 7-8 of 12 - I do love these 2 a lot. It’s such a slow burn sweet comforting quiet little romance. It’s not complicated, it’s not stretching my thoughts or imagination, but it is easy and absorbing. I'm entertained by it without being taxed. And sometimes that’s nice. It's what Thailand does best.

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 3 of 10 - Oh I’m still enjoying it. It’s only episode three and they’re basically boyfriend’s palling around shopping together and hanging out on a bicycle. What’s not to love? Also he got to meet the in-laws. Well… eventual in-laws. Also the girlfriend character. I totally forgot about her. Good times.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 12fin - Baby faints. Bad guys caught and beat up a bit. Lots of romantic moments, come checking in with ALL the sides, and it ends.

Summary?

Classic CEO meets ingenue archetypes make for a somewhat banal and simplistic romance. This could’ve come from an 80s Harlequin, except that they’re gay. It's... old fashioned. There was nothing meta about this, there was no subversion or commentary on anything BL, queer, or beyond. It’s just a straight up (okay not straight) romance. I was not wild about these characters for this particular pair, but that’s not the pair's fault, they did a decent job with their parts and I look forward to their next show - here’s hoping it’s a bit more meaty. I preferred the side couple because they were more complex and true to BL archetypes, even if they were also a bit miss-handled. A serviceable show if somewhat lacking in its convictions, but with some beautiful sex scenes, people, and fashion. I was a particular fan of Lin‘s gender bending femme style. It’s groundbreaking to see that aesthetic on one of the leads. There were multiple times they could’ve leaned into well established plot points, paranormal elements, and character tension, and instead just glossed over them.

This should probably get a 7/10, but I’m giving it an 8 because of that one oppa line at the beginning, Tenon's tatas, and the call back to Big Dragon with that iconic musical refrain in the final episode. It was a pretty fun ride, emphasis on pretty and ride. 

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 5 of 12 - Lots of kissing this episode. And lots of different kinds of kissing from the same two actors in various different forms and characters. I really liked it. It’s nice to see that this pair can mix it up a little bit, even if it's just with their lips.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 7 of 12 - OK the leg care massage was so boyfriend I can’t even. Who are they trying to fool? I love the way Ing always knows exactly what is going on. Thank goodness for that confession! I’m very much looking forward to the next episode.

(The socratic method, is it?)

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 9 of 12 - Still couldn’t care less about the hets. Yawn. Ah Jane’s ex shows up. (Is that Green? Hi baby!) Meanwhile, Jane gets worried and jealous. I loved Pah in this ep, and almost wish this were a show just about him. Like a grown-up Green Fictions. (Where tf did Poon COME from allasudden? He’s a killer actor. GMMTV better use him wisely.) Also, in that scene with Pat and P’Jo, they’re eating some of my favorite food. I got a little bit of linguistic negotiation with Khun Par Phi. Cuteness. And we end with some actual communication. Yay!!! It’s kind of hilarious to see OffGun in a tentative hug. I don’t think they’ve been that way for a years.

In fact, this whole episode was pretty much about communicating properly between ages and ranks within an office and social structure. I loved that. I’m liking this one more this week. It’s still not my favorite currently airing, but I think that mostly has to do with how much other good stuff is on right now.

SPEAKING OF...

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 3-4 of 12 - Uh huh, a game of one-up-man-ship is it? I think not. That boy wants to jump his cute stepbrother’s bones so bad that big brain of his is starting to melt. I'm here for it. Also, said sunshine cutie is clearly a big old cock tease. Everybody is happy about this. They sure know how to end these episodes on cliffhangers too. I don’t know how I’m gonna wait until next week.

I’m legit mad about how fucking good this is. After Unknown too?! Taiwan is spoiling us this year and THEY SHOULD HAVE BEEN DOING IT ALL ALONG.

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 3-4 of 10 - Oh my goodness do I love this show. It makes me laugh, I adore the premise, I'm wild over the characters, and the acting is killer. I’m just really happy about this show, OK? I tend to sing and clap: Oh they so cute.

Baby got his first crush and he has no idea what to do about it. I ADORE how angry he is about it. Like... How dare I even consider falling in love with somebody? How annoying of me. It’s great. I even liked the girl in the confession and how cool and sweet they both were to each other over his rejection. Bang up job. This is fantastic BL of the newer modern style. (As contrasted to On1y)

These top two shows are neck and neck for best of the week, for entirely different reasons. But I love all my sons.

Speaking of...

Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 7-8 fin - Oh it’s so adorable with the drama and the little subordinate coming to their rescue, and them meeting each other’s family. "I want to become someone who is essential in your life" = peak romance.

Summation?

I loved this little show. It was a classic office BL about the older workaholic who loves his job and the younger upstart who unexpectedly loves his boss. It’s a hyung romance where everybody is extremely earnest and sweet and pretty about everything. Except our seme, who is slightly unhinged and a little obsessed in all the ways one likes best from Japan. Plus the kisses were good! I can’t ask for anything more, utterly charming unexpected gem of a show. What a great time! 9/10

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 11 of 12 - The lack of communication between these 2 may actually drive me insane. But I still love them. Such a sad ep. 

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 3 of 8 - Argh but also oooooo. I bet the uncut version was fantastic this week.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 5-6 of 12 - I'm starting to like this better. I’m still not convinced, but I did enjoy watching it this week. I’m getting some chemistry off the leads. Admittedly. that’s because they both behave like 16-year-olds. Surprise MosBank cameo - looking handsome as ever, boys. (Honestly, Taiwan really wants that King of the Cameos crown.) And FINALLY our side couple. I’m looking forward to next week primarily because of them. And I don’t even have them yet!

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - OK the lap cuddle was v cute. As was the handholding. But hiking with a metal griddle? Insanity. Might be the craziest thing in a BL this year. And The Sign aired this year. Meanwhile, not a dead fish kiss! Yay! 

It's airing but...

4 Minutes (Sat Gaga) eps 1-6 of 8 - Gaga picked this one up so we can watch it there. I'm waiting until the end, it seems angsty and confusing and full of awful people being awful. But also... high heat and I'm shallow. So we shall see which devil wins (and how it ends).

In case you missed it

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. It's just taking me some time. This isn't really a bingable show, not for me anyway. It's A LOT to take all at once.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Coming SEPTEMBER 2024:

9/? The Time of Fever (Korea iQIYI) 6 eps - HoTae & DongHee are back! Side couple from Unintentional Love Story, same actors, same character names I an WILD for this.

9/1 Live in Love (Thai Sun Gaga) 5 eps - Short series featuring and online romance turning IRL.

9/3 Happy of the End (Japan Tues Gaga) - Based on a manga, longer than usual run time. A boy is disowned for being gay, dumped by his boyfriend, and ends up in a dysfunctional co-dependant relationship with his would-be kidnapper. We were due for another messy JBL. Here it is!

9/6 Kidnap (Thai Friday GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - Ohm Pawat is back for Frigays it's gonna be a blast.

9/7 The Hidden Moon (Thai Sat ????) 10 eps - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) ‘เดือนพราง’ by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger)... A Bangkok writer is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai which is being converted into a café. He gets into an accident and nearly dies on his way there. After that, he sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, one boy catches his attention. Was substantially recast.

9/9 Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) 12 eps? - Be gay YinWar, do crimes. Dehup gives us Yin, War, Mark and a few other familiar faces in a Leverage sitch, only queerer.

9/14 Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sat ????) ?? eps - Remake of the original. I'm scared too.

9/15 Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - Assistant to a player boss who is in love with that boss decides to quit to save himself. The boss then makes a move. (A gay What's up with Secretary Kim?)

9/17 Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 10 eps - Lawyer and a con artist meet at a bar, pair up, fall in love.

9/28 Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YouTube) ?? eps - oh I don't know just Ba Vinh doing his thing with pretty boys again.

Adventures in miss-captions

(been a while since we had one of these)

SNICKER "nail you" and a "nail you down" = completely different things. But this being Japan they might have met either or both. (Cosmetic)

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Why yes, you do have the prettiest lips in the biz. No need to tease us like that. (Battle)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.