#or whatever the fuck it was he said in ps

[atlasdoe]

i have an unpopular headcannon about Pandora and that's that I don't think she hated Voldemort, I actually think she admired him

and by that I mean that she agreed with his views or wanted to join the death eaters i just think she thought he was a brilliant wizard and she couldn't really blame anyone who did want to follow him and that's why she kept in contact with Evan, Barty and Regulus despite knowing their views

She was fascinated by the horcruxes so much that when Regulus first told her about it she jumped at a chance to help him. She told him she would find a spell to destroy a horcrux but really what if she wasn't trying to destroy it? what if she was trying to recreate it?

[goldsbitch]

monaco kiss .wav

Lando's mildly exhibitionist dreams came true. Due to genius sound engineering, the world can now listen to him and his girlfriend having sex, without a clue it's them.

the track mentioned and referenced (no need to listen to it to get the story, go and be free): French Kiss - The Original Underground Mix, Lil'Louis, The World (credit where credit is due)... 05:30 is the timestamp

word count: 7k

warning: smut, minors DNI, p in v, oral sex, voice notes, colapinto level amount of the word "mate"

PS: i rarely do, but I fuckin love this one

If there was ever a place where Lando could spend hours and hours on end, it was the blue couch at Martin Garrix's personal studio. That piece of furniture was the peak of comfy. He'd asked many times where he got it - if only Martin could remember that.

The whole studio has a cozy vibe around it. A safe space for the F1 star to escape the ever-present eyes of the public, a timeless place where he could wind down and sit passively, while his friend digged notes for hits of the future. They'd often sit for hours in silence, just winding down.

To Lando's joy, the ultimate friend chemistry he had with Martin also worked for him and his, not-so-new-anymore, girlfriend Y/N. In fact, the moment these two met, it was clear that Y/N would quickly become a frequent member of their private recording sessions.

But this time, she had to be in a different city due to work, so it was just the boys, the olden days. Back when Lando would actually dabble in DJ'ing. Those days were long gone, but...It wasn't a rare thing that Lando would help and brainstorm ideas, chord progressions or effects applied to the tracks. What the public didn't know was that he was a loud creative force behind some elements in Martin's recent tracks. Lando had almost threatened him, urging to keep this behind closed door. He wasn't gonna Leclerc this one out.

"You look beat, mate," said Martin finally after nearly two hours of staring into track nods. Lando finally looked up from his phone.

"I'm waiting for you to be done, bro," he replied simply, reffering back to their debate regarding this latest track. A pause. "You know my opinion."

Max turned around to face him, only to find a signature overplayed smirk looking back at him. "You know what, I'm a fucking renowned producer, and you have the decency to come and tell me my track is shit?"

Lando did not flinch. This as a fairly normal way they'd speak together. "Well, someone apparently has to," he shot back, challenging Martin to flip out.

"Screw you," he replied and turned back to face his three monitors. Lando waited patiently, knowing that this was his signature first reaction to criticism. He always came around eventually. Max was his friend. And he would do everything to stop him from releasing crap. "Ok," he heard the DJ say, caving in to his doubts. "I am too deep in this track anyway. Tell me what you think."

"Mate, you said you wanted to do something more experimental. You forgot to add boring," Lando deadpanned.

Martin sighed loudly and leaned back to his chair.

"Don't get me wrong, I fucking love how you go from like - what, 120bpm?-"

"135-"

"Yeah, whatever," Lando said, not happy when Martin used his i-know-music-theory-and-you-don't tone. "As I was gonna say, the come down from the fast tempo to the painfully slow one, in the middle of the track, kind of works. It's certainly nothing like I'd heard play anywhere lately. But like, there is nothing in the production that makes it stand out? Like no real build up or interesting sound."

Lando knew it was brutal from him. But he wasn't there to pat his friend on the back. Just like Martin would never fake compliment his on a bad race. To Lando, this was peak friendship.

Martin hit quick save and closed the file abruptly, startling a minor panic in his friend. Did Lando overstep?

"Come on, mate. Don't copout now."

Martin was visibly startled. "Maybe I just need to put this one down for a moment. Lando did not know what to say to that. He might be right.

"Cig break?"

//

They were standing at the small balcony connected to main entrance to the studio, cigarette smokes mixing together. Yeah, Lando did enjoy an occasional smoke break with his friend. A guilty pleasure one might say.

"So, what was the starting point of the track?" he couldn't help but ask, still not happy to see his friend aborting something he'd spend hours on.

Martin gave him an annoyed look, but did not hesitate to reply. "Remember how the conversation I had about techno tracks being awfully predictable?."

Lando eyes shot up. "Wait, that weird chick you ran into in Germany?"

Rarely would Martin blush, but today was a lucky day apparently. A mocking snort came as a reaction from his friend. "Mate, I don't remember ever seeing you so flustered because of a girl." Few weeks ago, Martin had the fortune of meeting someone who he called "the love of his life" in a random club. And that girl had the audacity to leave him on read for hours. Him, Martin Garrix. Infuriating.

"Yeah, well, fuck you. She was real cool, alternative and reminded me of why I got into music in the first place. Let's revisit how insufferable you were when you met Y/N." Lando exhaled, forever happy anytime anyone ever brought up him and Y/N meeting. If it were up to him, that would be the only thing he's talk about. Getting to know her was like the best kind of drunk one can get. Tipsy enough to make everything fun and perfect, and not too much to get lost in it.

"Fuck off, I was never as insufferable as this," he defended, deep down knowing he might have been even worse. But, he and Y/N ended up dating. Poor Martin was desperate even for a reply.

"Whatever," Martin remarked and put his cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray. This small gesture reminded Lando why he was friends with this guy, the precious safe-space he managed to create. If there was a moment to act as a friend, it was this one.

"Shut up and let's get back to the track. We just gotta let loose a bit, that's all," he said, determined to get Martin out of the rut of his own head.

//

They'd been sitting for another hour, the sun long gone from their sight, two vodka soda's mixed from personal studio bar in, dozens of old tracks analyzed.

Martin played the middle section once again. Lando's head was mindlessly nodding into the beat they'd added and it was starting to look kind of good for the track. But it was not exceptional. And if Lando was trying to help Martin get the attention of some pseudo-pretentious alternative chick, they had to step up their game.

"Can you recall any track which uses the same level of tempo slow down? We could like, I dunno, look into why it works when other people did it and maybe something will come up." Lando often drew inspiration from other artists, something Martin usually hated. But, desperate times.

The racer watched the DJ and suddenly, as it was as if the musical equivalent of the DRS just hit him, his eyes went wide and he stood up.

"Of course!" Martin exclaimed and started pacing around the room. Lando was obviously surprised and kept still, hoping for the best, really. He watched his friend, walking back and forth around the room, deep in his own thoughts and searching for something on his phone.

"Yes! That's it," he finally said happily and put a song up to their loud speakers. The excited look he gave to Lando was almost scary. "You're gonna absolutely love this one," he continued with absolute confidence.

Lando prayed for this to be good, otherwise he was going to have to start getting worried about his friend's sanity, based on the crazy eyes.

The song started with a steady, four-on-the-floor beat (or that was what Lando had assumed). It was a typical 1980's techno track, fast, repetitive with a strong bass line.

But they were almost four minutes in and nothing that would stand out in any way was coming out of this track. Lando could not help but give Martin a doubtful look, not really getting what he was excited about. But Martin was there, nodding his head to the beat, in his own world. He must have sensed Lando's so-far-unimpressed expression, so he shot him a quick smile and gestured for him to wait. Finally, something started to happen and just like in Martin's new track, the music started to slow up on the tempo, quite dramatically. It got Lando somewhat hooked. And then-

And then! He thought he was imagining things. That his mind created sounds in his own head out of boredom.

Instead of a new instrumental added a vocal component was added. The most sensual female moan started to dominate the track, as the tempo kept slowing down. Lando felt his stomach dropped and hair and the back of his neck stand. It was sensual, almost vulgar in fact. Like some sort of elegant porn track playing over the original beat. Unapologetic. And it was increasing. What started as a somewhat socially acceptable sigh, turned into a full on orgasm moan - and as the music almost stopped, the female voice was taking on the main stage, full on peak. Thank God the walls were sound proofed. Lando cock was twitching. He tried to ignore Martin, who was grinning like a school boy first time seeing a porn video. And once the voice finally reached a peak, the music started to pick up, leftover moans cutting through the beat. Only then was Lando able to look Martin in the eye and got out of the semi-trance this track got him into. Finally the tempo fully picked up and the nine minute song was over.

"Uhh..." Lando got his initial reaction out and stared into the screen. Martin was there, unable to contain his laughter.

"You look flushed, mate, you good?" he teased, obviously pleased with himself for getting Lando out of his comfort zone.

Lando was finally getting back to Earth and couldn't help but to release a girl-like giggle. "Yeah, mate...I think if you do something like that, you will break the internet almost definitely."

What Martin could not know, because they did not have that kind of a relationship, was that Lando's phone was full of noise recordings of him and Y/N having sex. She was quite a vocal person. And he was a bit of a naughty boy, asked for a permission to record a sex tape nearly dozens of times. His girlfriend was probably right in refusing to do so, given the fact that if a video got out, it would be a disaster for both of them. But, an audio? One without any names mentioned? That was something she felt comfortable. And it as this thing Lando was using to get himself off when he was traveling alone for the past few months. So yeah, Martin hit the nail on its "head" with this one.

Lando gulped, trying to get himself back in the right headspace and not thinking of all the times Y/N screamed and moaned for him while bent over a table or laying in a silky bed.

"I fuckin' love this idea, mate. I'm gonna check with the lawyer team and see if I can go and sample this or something," Martin said, his tone indicating he was happy and done for the day.

"Yeah. This would work," Lando replied, unable to tone his voice down to his usual octave.

//

It was a surreal plane trip home to Monaco. They'd wrapped at the studio and Lando was headed directly to airport. This was proving to be unfortunate, as there was no time for him to go anywhere and take care of the problem growing in his pants. He had never listened to their voice notes in public, but he could not find any sort of self-restraint not to do so that day. Shamelessly walking around the private lounge area with a ragging boner and sex noises blasting in his headphones. He prayed for no fans showing up. At one point he was debating just beating it off in the airport bathroom. A teenager he had not been for a long time now.

And like a cruel joke, a voice memo landed in his messages from Y/N precisely at the time he as about to board his flight.

A part of him hoped it was a voice note of her jerking off. Sadly, it was not.

"Hey, my love, I hope you're all good and will make the flight. I've had such a boring day and can't wait to see you," she said a tone so sweet Lando felt almost guilty for walking around with thoughts of her on all fours, begging for his cock. It brought him back to normal, which was probably for the better. "Anyway, I'll be at home, let me know when you're coming." He smiled, loving the fact they were there for each other even in the innocent sort of way. "Aaah, what a day," she ended the voice note with a moan. A fucking tired sort of sigh. Normally, it would be a very casual thing for Lando. But did it sound like something out of their sex tapes? Of course it fucking did. "Mmmm.." And with that, the voice memo ended and Lando's boner was right back on.

//

"Hi, my love."

"Hello, sweetheart."

It was something he was proud about. Teaching her to sleep naked. Sleeping in clothes is close to committing a crime when she has a body like that. Clothes were for the outdoors anyway. It was doing something to his ego to see she fully accepted that. To his luck, he found Y/N just like he wanted - bare, snuggled up in their bed under a criminal amount of duvets, but most importantly, given his current state, still somewhat awake. She was giving his the most inviting look he'd ever seen on a human.

"Are you hitting the shower?" Y/N asked, pushing the duvet closer to her neck, as if to cover herself for some reason. Lando found that more than amusing and shook his head.

They'd exchanged few pleasantries, mundane questions while we was undressing and finally crawled into the bed with her. As a natural move, she shifted, letting him to be the big spoon. He caressed her hair before stepping in. Changed his tone from casual to bedroom. Finally.

"You and me baby, just us. How it's suppose to be."

Flirting was a second language to Lando and he was not afraid to use it.

"I see you kept the bed warm for us," he said, warmed his hands by blowing his hot breath on both of them. When he was sure that his body adapted from the chilly outdoors air to their hot flat, he started tracing lines on her body and pressed his crotch to her ass, to test her reaction, and see if he got lucky and caught her in the right mood.

He wouldn't be able to see it, due to the fact he was spooning her from behind, but her eyes shot wide open as his ragging boner pressed on her and a cheeky smile crept in. She answered by moving back to him, and arching her back. Loud, horny sighs from Lando followed.

"I see you've been a good boy, am I right?" she whispered sensually.

And fucking yes, he was a good boy. She'd often reward him when he manage to obstain from jerking off when they were suppose to see each other. If he had been hard before, they would need to come up with a new name for what he was experiencing after hearing his hard work being acknowledged.

He gulped, trying to keep his some cool in his voice. "You can guess twice," he challenged and pushed his body towards her, squeezing his dick between their bodies. She giggled and turned on her back to face him. Tried to kiss him slowly, but he was having none of that. Once the door was opened, he took the lead and kissed her with all of his pent up hunger. His hands were holding her jaw in place, as if she was going to slip away - which was the exact opposite of her plans. Soon enough she kissed back with similar urgency, roaming her hands on his chest and pulling his ever-so-curly hair.

"I need you," she whispered when he reached away to take in some air.

He grinned, happy to have some sort of level of upper hand, given how down bad he actually was.

"Have you been a good girl, sweetheart?" he asked, expecting the same answer he gave her. His cheeky fingers started exploring her upper thighs.

She waited a moment. "No, I haven't," bit her lip. This took Lando as a surprise and he opened his mouth in disbelief.

"Well, would you look at that..." he said, secretly loving this side of her. Horny little angel, getting herself off. In his mind, it was like she'd been training for him. He gripped her thigh, making her gasp.

"I think you might still find some evidence on the sheets," she whispered, and it was exactly that sound that was a turning point of Lando. He flipped over to tower her and slammed his lips towards hers. He opened her legs with his hands and started exploring her core - and it was exactly as she said it. Still wet from her on fingers, as he'd imagined.

"Well then, we'll do this on my terms. You understand?" he said in a playful tone. "What are you?"

She knew what answer he was looking for. "Bad girl," she sighed as he fingered her in a way that could not be described as gentle. Soft moans started escaping her mouth and that was the main thing Lando was longing for.

"And what am I? For keeping myself full for you?" he asked, trying to keep her on the edge with his moves.

Her eyes were now shut and her arms locked around his back, same as her legs. "Good boy," she sighed.

"Exactly. So do me a favour," he said, kissing her again, "be loud for me tonight. Make my ears ring and wake up the neighbours. Otherwise I'll make sure you don't get what a good girl gets." Both of them knew there was not a single cell in Lando willing to keep his empty promise. She was going to finish multiple times and he'd work for it the whole night if he had to.

Back arched. Lando's fingers doing the God's work. "Yes," she almost choked on her breath and let out an honest and beautiful sound.

It was already getting too much for Lando, he stroked himself few times and then slid into her wet cunt, as if it was his home.

And boy, was it better than any home he'd ever know. He warm wet, almost dripping cunt welcomed him in the sweetest of ways. Lando waited few seconds for both of them to adjust before he gripped her legs and swung them over his shoulders. It was a dance they'd practiced countless times before. She knew to clench her legs and provide support for him to be able to fully start launching into her.

He gave her one more lustfilled look before he thrusted for the first time. The thing he was specifically looking forward was the way how the breath escaped her throat in almost surprised way - as if she was not expecting this to happen. Pure pleasure overruled any thoughts he was having pretty quickly. The way her walls clenched over him was a sensation very few things could compare to. It was so easy to start moving faster and harder. He lived for the sight of her, lying down beneath him, eyes closed and finally, after few more perfectly placed movements, first moans started to escape her lips. He wanted more, tonight he needed it all. Speeding up, gripping her legs tighter. And with that, he watched as her boobs were bouncing back and forth, a sight so glorious he had to put one of his hands on it. All that she was somehow trying to hide in, started to come out. Face stuck in a scream like position, hands gripping Lando's arms and the most glorious of it all - the silent moans growing into muted screams. And once he added even more speed, those turned into unhinged screaks. He didn't even notice him own mouth stuck open. Breaths were getting heavier and heavier, drops of sweet sweat were falling on her torso and slowly Lando moved his hand over to from her boobs to the crease of her neck and squeezed just a little bit, the way he knew she liked. He didn't mind that the sound she made got a little muffled - he could feel the sound coming from her throat before it left her body.

And then finally, Lando felt almost a hot liquid hit his dick and gradually bounce over to his lower stomach as he moved even quicker than before, knowing well enough that when this happened to her, the incoming orgasm was about to be glorious. He thrusted, fully focused on her expressions and loud screams.

When her release happened seconds later, he nearly came himself. By some miracle, he managed to hold it of for just few more minutes. He kept thrusting, while he felt her body collapse momentarily, complete hard shut down. More liquid came out of her and Lando wished he could fuck and lick her at the same time.

And just like that, she was back again, panting hard and finally, eyes open once again. Her fucked out face challenging him once again. She smirked and tried as much as he could to keep up his tempo. It always took her one orgasm to bounce back and become more active. Lando wished he could go on for hours, but his dick almost begged him to allow the release. He wasn't gonna deny himself pleasure tonight.

"Say my name," she said in a loud demanding tone, stern look on her face. He wanted to chuckle, always finding it amusing how she went from almost a comatose princess to a challenging boss girl in seconds. After he made her come, of course. But Lando's mind was truly getting blurry at that point. He kept saying her name as like some sort of prayer as he carried himself to the heavenly release. It was the ultimate relief, dipping in a hot water, getting charged with electricity, tasting the sweetest drink, stepping into the hottest sunshine. Whatever kind of pleasure Lando could think of, nothing would ever mount to finally releasing it into her, especially after a long, oh so long, build up.

And with that, he fell next to her. Heave panting on both sides of the bed, before either of them spoke.

"All good? Are you ok?" he asked, just like he always did after they'd slept together. The thought of her not having a good time haunted him. He was aware that it sometimes came out more anxiously than he intended to, but who has a proper working brain after a sex session.

Y/N turned at him, blissful smile on her lips. "Oh yeah, baby. Love when you come home like this."

He smirked, getting some of the blood back to his brain. "Hmm, I also love coming home."

Their fucked out minds chuckled at the stupid joke. He gathered all the remaining strenght, got up and cleaned her up.

"Oh God, I've missed you," she complained into the no quiet room, still filled with sex air.

"You have no idea, how much I did, sweetheart."

//

It had been a good few weeks before Lando found himself once again in Martin's studio. This time Y/N was able to join him on the iconic couch. They sat, her legs relaxed over his, Lando's hand stroking her shins innocently. Physical touch boy if there ever was one.

Light banter laced the evening, few sips from Martin's signature vodka sodas and general lightness of the company were bound to end up with Martin sharing his latest relationship news. The alternative girl he met in Germany? Yeah, that was over. However, the track was definitely not.

"Ok, but like, I'd never seen you this anxious about a new track before," Y/N spoke, feeling like there was something these two guys were walking around, somewhat afraid to say hat it was.

Martin and Lando shared a look. There was not a single bone in Lando's body that was afraid of Y/N reaction to this track. He way in fact dying to know what Martin has done with it in the past few weeks. Martin was not allowed by his label to send any demos, only to show them in person. Well, he was not even allowed that, but it's not like they were there with them in the room. Martin raised his brows while looking at Lando, as if to look for a permission. Lando nodded, secretly looking forward to seeing what Y/N had to say about their newest idea.

"Well, I'm actually still working on a track we tried to finish when your boyfriend was here the last time," he said reluctantly.

"Yeah mate, I'm stoked to hear what you recorded," Lando said, trying to add some entusiasm to Martin's speech.

Martin's face formed a small frown. "Well, I'm worried, mate. Listen for yourself, it might be just me hearing this track for too many times. But, I'm afraid it does not work."

This took Lando by surprise - he was full on expecting a hot, sexy banger.

Martin did not add anything and upon Y/N's plea for finally play it and with zero protests on Lando's side, he did just that.

So they listened to the almost six minute track. The instrumentals were basically in the exact same state as when Lando was there for the last time. Intrigue filled his body as the tempo slow down came - it must have been time for the moaning to start. He could not wait to see Y/N's reaction. Was there a chance she would actually be mad and consider it tacky?

He didn't let her out of his sight, no matter how much Martin tried to catch his eye. Y/N sat there, her usual focused face on, as per any other time they'd listen to a new track.

And just like that, it took Lando only few bars of the part with the moans to understand where Martin's disinterest came from. This wasn't the right vibe. There was absolutely no comparison to the original track they'd based this on. It was a weak mockery of that whole idea. Sounded cheap, almost fake and with no atmosphere whatsoever. A face of slight disgust formed on Lando's face and he temporarily forgot he was watching Y/N for her reaction. They finally exchanged a look with Martin, both knowing this was just not working. While the girl moaning into the track had a perfect pitch, something was just not right.

Only when the moans and sighs part of the track ended he noticed the look on his girlfriends face and started actually feeling embarrassed. Will she think this as his idea and that he is a pervy simpleton? That he actually likes this?

He started his defense before she'd have any time for a reaction.

"That's not good, mate," he stated the more than obvious. Martin nodded, his expression hard to decipher. "It was not meant to sound this cheap."

"Yeah, don't know what to tell you. We recorded this with like two other producers in the room, this girl is apparently a good porn actress with a perfect pitch. But it sounds just like that. Like, I wanted to create a hot track, this is just cheap and kind of sad."

Lando gulped, almost fearing Y/N's reaction.

And boy, was she staring at him. It almost caught him of guard. Definitely silenced him. If he had to describe it, it would something along the lines of shooting arrows. Lando felt very small. But then, like by some sort of miracle, the corner of her lip turned up and a cheeky smile started to form. Martin knew more than interfere in their silent conversations and turned around to leave them be. A shot of confidence went though Lando's bloodstream and he gave Y/N a questioning look. Almost wanting to challenge her to say something. She shot her eyebrows up and tried to bite her smile away. Lando played dumb and shook his head, as if he did not understand. With that, she nodded toward his phone that was lying next to his hips. Lando's eyes went wide and his heart rate went up. Is she really suggesting this?

Out of nowhere, her look still firm on Lando - who stopped blinking a long time ago - she spoke, probably more to Martin than her boyfriend.

"I love the idea, and I think it could catch on really well. But like you said. You can't fake that if it's suppose to be good. Any girl will se right through this anyway."

Was Lando about to fall in love all over again?

"So what, am I suppose to pay someone to fuck in the studio?"

The silence that followed was a heavy, awkward, hot and hilarious one. Many looks were exchanged between the three of them before, as they say, all the pennies dropped.

"Oh my God," Martin exclaimed. Neither Lando or Y/N reacted in any verbal way, however Lando did raise his eyebrows in order to stop his smile from growing. Failing at that miserably. Suddenly, he was more than aware of Y/N legs near his crotch.

Martin shook his head, as if he became prudent out of nowhere and spun on his chair few times, most likely thinking it over. Lando was about to step in to ease the tension, but Y/N was faster.

"It would be the easiest way to test if the track works, just saying," she commented and Lando tried to stay as still as possible, almost worried that if he moves to much, he might wake up.

To potentially have his girlfriends orgasm voice blasted anonymously in clubs all around the world was doing some thing to his semi-exhibicionist persona, which he had to keep buried deep down. Things he had a lot of trouble admitting to outloud.

The conversation was continuing, no matter how spaced out and horny Lando became.

"Ok, say it works. Are you ok with this staying on the track?" Martin asked Y/N only. He knew his mate well enough to figure he'd be more than fine with it.

Y/N seemed to think about it, in a serious way, for few moments. The air felt oh-so-heavy to Lando. Please, say yes. Both of you.

"As long as it stays anonymous and nobody else, not even your label ever finds out, I say we go and give it a try," she answered and turned over to her boyfriend. He knew the look she had on her face more than well. It was the same one she'd have after agreeing to press record on their personal sex voice memos. And it was doing things to him.

It looked like Martin was coming around with the idea.

"Fuck it, ok then. I guess, I'll just press the button and give you guys some space in the recording room. But like, bare in mind I only need her, not you," he hinted over to Lando, "and for the sake of our friendship, I'd really appreciate if you kept it clean in terms of dirty talk. I don't want this to be the reason I died. Also no...mess please. Ugh."

Lando downed his drink, still unable to believe this was happening, and finally spoke again. "I'm sure there is a way to make sure we get only Y/N's voice."

Images flooded their heads - for Y/N very much wanted, to perfectly contrast Martin's reaction, who was sitting on the complete opposite of the excitement spectrum.

"Ok, let's go with it before I change my mind," Martin said and began prepping the recording room.

Lando squeezed his girlfriends hand, to make sure she was really ok with it.

"I love you," he whispered, unable to hold it in.

"Me too. I'm happy you don't think of me as slutty or perverted," she replied, hint of shame for the first in a long time creeping on her face.

"I would never....We can stop whenever, if you stop feeling it, ok? Please promise you'll let me know."

There was a look on her face he couldn't put a name on. "Thank you."

Martin coughed demonstrateively. "Lando, come over. I'll tell you what to do." Lando eyebrows shot up once again. "Not like that, with the recording, you weirdo," Martin exhaled, already regretting the decision.

//

"So, the recording is on, have a good one, I guess," were Martin's last words before Y/N was about to have a series of little deaths.

And with the click of the door, they were alone. Deep dark silence. Never before has she seen Lando stare at her this much like a hunter would at his prey. His good name was on the line. Maybe not for the whole world, but he had to show his best bud he can make his girl come. And perhaps something more than that.

The room was small, light dimmed out.

"So, what do you have in mind?" she asked softy, still not quite in the same feral mood Lando was in. He crossed over the distance between them slowly to put a finger on her mouth.

"No words, remember?" he reminded himself probably more than her. His plan was never to fuck her here. She'd soon find that out.

With ease and confidence only those who kissed each other countless of times, he locked his lips with hers. His hand in the back of her hair, pulling, not gently. Her tongue rolled over his and she bit his upper lip, to return the favor perhaps. Her head bent back and he follow the train to her collarbone with pecks. With ease, he started walking her over to the chair here the recording artist would usually sit. Today, she'd be the main act and he her muse. She was regretting not wearing a skirt that day. He saw no issue when he pulled her jeans down. He was already hard and just had to squeeze himself for few times, a mindless action. No doubt in his mind that before the night calls quits that day, he'd see his own release. She noticed his moves and tried to get in on the action, only to somewhat wake him up from his own selfishness as he stopped her hands reaching his crotch. Another head shake - hopefully, this time she'd get the hint.

Her eyes were filled with hot wanderlust and with that, she gave up on trying to take the lead. He smiled and got rid of her panties as well.

Two strong hands popped her up on the round chair with no back rest. One last kiss on the lips before he knelt down. Stomach tingled with anticipation. Lando was taking his time, slowly kissing his way up her legs. The ever so blue, green and whatever colored eyes glowing with lust. He stopped at the spot where thighs and knees bend, his tongue finally out, as if for a practice run. Only recently he found out about her secret soft spot. He watched her face relax and give in, first pleasure arriving. He was the moon and her body a shore, waiting for the waves.

Long heavy breath. Lando wanted, needed more. He progressed further and further, until the only place left to go were her folds and wet core. But before that, he didn't for get to leave few bite marks on her upper thighs. Quick catch of breath and her hands buried in his curls. Watching him as if the gods had sent him to ruin her.

And they might have. Normally, he's utter few cheeky lines before dipping his tongue deep into her, but the looks were all he could use this time.

Relaxed and come for me, baby. Drip all over this chair and make them know I can make you scream.

His tongue could as well be completely dry and it would not matter. They way how he was all over her got her wet anyway. His moves were never the same, yet they always worked like magic. He twisted, pulled in and out and all over. Slight bite at her less sensitive folds. Clit suck. And then he called upon his fingers to assist. She was barely sitting on the chair, legs fully rested on his shoulders, priorities loud and clear. As were her moans she didn't notice at first. She had to support herself with her arm, squeezing the weak leather top of the chair. Her other hand was busy with pushing Lando's face towards her. First tide started to arrive. Lando drew his head back to catch some breath - and she let him, because his fingers became the main act. He made sure to hold the tempo, knowing that would work like volume increase button. Was there a more beautiful sight than watching a woman you love hit the highs of life? Lando very much doubted. Judging by the way her face clenched, she must have forgotten the why and where. Her throat served like a gateway to pleasure sounds. And she screamed, more and even more once he sucked her clit again.

They call it little deaths because it might just be the only accurate description of what washed over her. If wasn't often he'd go down on and not fuck her shortly afterwards. Since that was out of the picture, she focused fully on his moves, knowing this was the peak.

He felt her relax after a particularly loud scream. Coming down to Earth once again. She opened her eyes and he smirked. He knew, by the way she tried to steady his breath and the slight movement of her supporting hand that she considered it "job done". She nodded and head and he shook his once again. Her puzzling look quickly replaced by a lip bite as his mouth traveled back to her core.

One more round, one could say Lando's ego was becoming the main hero of this story. The thought of somebody having to go and listen to another round of him destroying his girl with pleasure was an intoxicating one.

//

Martin's track was an instant hit and minor shock to the public. Never before has he released something so explicit. Y/N's screams were out for the whole world to listen and it did a wonder to their sex life. It was something else to fuck and blast your own love soundtrack on.

There were two main versions release, one less explicit, for the DJ's to play around the radio during the day and for club goers to party to during the night.

Lando stopped counting how many times it happened that in the middle of the day he'd hear this song around the paddock radio. Whenever he did, he would send Y/N a photo with a cheeky wink, and she'd do the same when she had the luck of listening to her own voice in public like that. A nice, somewhat innocent tradition for them only to understand.

//

Keep you friends close and rivals closer. That's how Lando ended up at one of the many celebrations of Max Verstappen's title celebrations. Little did he mind, secretly loving the fact the pressure was off him for a moment. Expensive alcohol flowing freely also helped.

He found himself sitting in a VIP booth across from Max, by some stroke of luck, alone. And of course, that was the first time he slipped up. Somehow he managed to avoid a situation when someone who knew him well was around when Martin's monaco kiss came up.

"the recording is on, have a good one, I guess"

Martin decided to keep his own line in the intro, only later admitting he'd re-recorded it out of his own insecurity. Which Lando found very amusing, given the fact him and Y/N only needed one take to get it right perfectly.

His stomach dropped a bit when he heard the now iconic opening line. Shifted a bit to regain some composure. Sipping a drink might help to hide his slight panic and lack of any real light did not allow his blushed cheeks to go noticed.

Across from him, Max was nodding his feet to the beat of the track. The conversation grew stale a moment while, so Max's complimentary comment on Lando's friend's track must have been intended as an innocent ice-breaker.

"what do you have in mind"

Another line kept in from the recording. Y/N's real voice hidden under many layers of autotune to keep her identity anonymous. As per her wish and Lando's secret regret.

The tempo started to slow down. Anyone would remember the track by heart if they'd listened to it the same amount of times as Lando had. Words were lost on him and he did not find a response to Max's comment. Very unusual from Lando. He sipped his now empty drink, hoping more liquid had magically appeared. Max noticed something was off. And then the key jump, straight out the book Diet Pepsi took inspiration from. Followed by the peak moan, or maybe a scream, from his girl for everyone to hear. It was not supposed to be this arousing. Max tilted his head and after another few beats, his intense stare aimed at his rival/friends went wide.

Lando tried to stop his smirk. He really did.

Max's mouth went open and he stopped his breath before uttering a simply lovely, slightly astonished: "No way."

Lando averted his gaze to the crowd below in order to avoid Max, who chuckled and took a big gulp of his not-empty glass.

If the lights went on, everybody would be able to see a bright red Lando. He was never going to break his promise about keeping this a secret, so he did not comment. But he grinned at Max's nod of approval.

He excused himself as went to the bar. Searching for his girl.

Light brush on her waist made her turn, wonder in her eyes easing when she saw it was him. They were both in the same horny headspace.

He leaned in and whispered, as much as one can whisper in a club, the last few beats of their track playing. "You sound so hot, baby. I'm so down bad for you."

Tipsy, she shot him a wide smile and mouthed a silent "i love you".

[bitchimasnake-sss]

HI SWEETIEEEE, LOVE UR WRITING

Can you PLEAAAAASEEE make reader with breeding kink? Like, how would Sanji, Luff and ussop react to their partner asking for being filled/breed?

Btw, tell me I'm cool for asking without anon or I'll cry.

UR THE COOOOLEST FOR ASKING WITHOUT ANON GIRLY!! i salute your confidence, also ur veryyyy pretty (i stalk you through your window) and also here's the filth you want mwuahh 😚😚

𐙚thinkin' about: the monster trio, ace 'n law! vs breeding kink!

NOT PROOFREAD. JUST PURE HORNY. cw: they all kinda wanna be dads. im sorry. i just wrote it. they wanna be dads now. its cannon. pussydrunk!men. nsfw includes: praise, a lot of overstimulation and talks of "being a dad" and "getting a mini-me", penetration, cunnilingus, loads of creampie [obviously.] and smex. lots of smex. m.list

🍒monkey d. luffy: going insane at the mere idea.

❤️"ngh~ hah again." from the way luffy said it, you're not quite sure whether he was asking or telling. but you weren't sure of a lot of things like where he ended and you began, which round were you on, yada yada. eitherways, you shouldn't worry that pretty little head of yours, not when you're the reason the captain of your ship was panting like this against you. hot huffs clashing against your skin with every strained movement of his hips. all because you had had the audacity to come up to the captain of the ship, pull him by his shirt to your room, strip and tell him to "fill you up." like are you insane?! did you want to kill him?! ❤️you're lucky that your captain has a strong heart, and an even stronger will... because now his hips were bucking into you wildly, hot stings against your thighs where he collided over and over and over again. whispering like a man gone mad, "fill you up, p-please. you wanted th-that right? you want me to fuck you like this? over 'n over 'gain?" and you must have been on a mission from the marines cause you just caught your trembling, bottom lips and hiccupped out a soft, "y-yes, please, cap'n." oh that wretched nick-name, goddamit. ❤️and now he's rutting into you harder, his tongue pushing against yours in such a lewd display of love. when he parted from from you, strings of glistening saliva connected you both. before they dropped downwards, stagnating against his bottom lips. "gonna have a little me runnin' around, i promise." monkey d luffy grinned, so pussy-drunk from the way you were clenching and gnawing at his aching dick. you wanted it just as much as he did, huh? with short, persistent thrusts into your gummy walls, he's cumming inside you once again, "one more time, p-pretty. promise this'll be the last. hah gotta make sure i get it right, y-yeah?" liar. he said that the last three times too.

🍀roronoa zoro: daddy or father? you choose. ps: both.

💚whatever you expected, this was not it. when you had waltzed into zoro's room while he was napping, closed the lock behind you, straddled his hips and huskily beg for him to fill you up, you didn't expect this. you didn't expect the man who was reluctant to even think about a family to prep you for his cock like he wanted a kid right fucking now. 💚you didn't expect the goddamn demon of the sea, former marine-hunter and the current first mate of your crew to caress your cheek so softly, to look you in your eyes with nothing but devotion as he thrusted his fingers into you so mean. "you're serious?" he mumbled against your skin and you nodded, half-delirious from the unfaltering pumps and your crescendo into another orgasm, "ye-yeah, i am, zoro." the swordman grinned, chasing his action with a mean slap to your aching cunt. fuck. and for a moment you saw something inherently holy in his action, "you want me to fill you up? you wanna make me a dad, angel?" "ngh ohmygod—" your eyes rolled back as his nimble fingers messily circle your clit before pinching the nub slowly. his voice husked, "my girl wants me to fuck her till i get a mini-me around?" 💚of course you cannot now blame roronoa zoro for the way he was fucking you without any breaks. not when you were the one who had nodded and assured him that a little him would be soo cute. "me? a dad?" zoro mumbled again. and for someone who only talked in grunt and groans and huffs when he was fucking you like he was going to ruin you, he sure was talking a lot. he repeated, "shit, my girl's gonna make me a dad?" "zoro, no-no more, please—" you pawed at his biceps, trying to pry him off of you. you could practically feel yourself filled to the brim, the milky white pouring out of your so obscenely and collecting at the base of his pretty cock with every little thrust into you. "no, no. no." he almost sounded cocky when he pulled his dick back and used his fingers to stuff them back in, "come on, now. don't waste any." he grinned, feral, "'m gonna be a fucking dad." jesus christ, what kind of demon did you let out tonight?

🫐vinsmoke sanji: living out his dreams (while buried in you).

💙honestly, you must have had courage pouring through you veins to ask sanji to fill you up. him and fatherhood were no joke. vinsmoke sanji had seen you for exactly 1.52 seconds when he realized he would have a family with you immediately, or get rejected over and over till he gets you and then have a family with you. 💙"and th-then i'd get her whatever she wants." sanji rambled on, hips stuck in a periodic rhythm as his tip caught against your g-spot again and again. "s-sanji." you stuttered, trying to throw your head over your shoulders to meet his flushed face. he had held your back flush against his chest, face reddened and lips trembling as he kissed your neck. your heart fluttered at his reaction, "there's- we d-don't have a kid yet... y'know that, right?" because from the way he was planning, it sure seemed like the kid was alive and well in his mind. the blonde nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, his finger slowly thumbing your clit, using your wetness to his leverage to bring yourself to destruction once more, "so, what, love? i'll fuck you till i get it, right?" 💙and who were you to deny him of that when his fingers glided through your folds easily and he rocked his hips gently, trying to coax another orgasm out of your tired bones. his breath was hot against your shoulder, "we're gonna have such a cute kid, r-right, love?" "mhm, w-we will." you nodded, the pit in your stomach tightening cruelly at his candied words. and he smiled against your shoulder, words slurring at the thoughts, "god, she'd be so cute." "sanji," you whined, your voice shaking as he finally pulled himself out. the warm fluid cascaded down your folds and sanji tsked in mock distress, "shh, looks like i gotta do it all over again." don't complain. you're the one who made him this way.

🦋portgas d. ace: don't ask for what you can't handle.

🧡"a-ace." your voice waivered pathetically as his hot breath played against your trembling pussy. his grin was cocky, eyes hidden by his hat as he husked against your wetness, "what?" "s-stop teasing." you tried, only for him to laugh at your pathetic efforts to sound stern. he tipped his face back, eyes glinting with something malignant, "you started it, baby." "i wasn't teasing." 🧡oh so you weren't teasing when you walked into his room, interrupted his paperwork and asked him so, so nicely to fill you up tonight? ace's eyebrows quirked up in part-surprise, part-delight as he slowly kissed your inner thigh. eyes never leaving yours. he smiled all over again, "you want me knock you up? give you my kid? awh, want me to fuck you till i get it right?" oh and the way you averted your eyes, looking oh-so-shy at his question, it had ace wanting to ruin you all over again. 🧡you were spread so deliciously on his bed, your glistening cunt on display just for him to edge you and watch you drip over and over again. the sheets underneath were soiled from your juices, he was sure his crew-mates would tease him to no extent with the way you were screaming his name but none of that mattered. when you writhed against him, your aching hands pushing his pretty face away and pulling him back into you all over again, ace hummed, "what? too much already? but we haven't even started." not when he took his hat off and gave you bestial grin. untamed, animalistic, primal. portgas d ace just made a promise, "when i finally give you what you want, don't you dare run away. or i think we both know how it'll end." it'll end with you stuffed full of him. it'll end with his finger past your pretty lips, with you choking on your own moans and his thick digits as he pumped you full. it'll end with him humming, "running away? no. don't you dare." after all, portgas d. ace never broke a promise.

🪻trafalgar d. water law: doc please don't knock her up.

💜your boyfriend was a doctor. surely, you must have more common sense than to bother him while he was already drowning under paperwork with the ideas of a little you and him running around. surely. "'s a terrible id-idea," he stuttered uncharacteristically as you has fiddled with his shirt, giving him such a sickly sweet smile, "why? you don't wanna?" "no—" his voice faltered as you slowly perched upon his lap and undid his button one by one. "'s just a kid is a huge responsibility, and we're not r-ready," his breath hitched when you kissed his neck. your words stilled against the column of his throat, "pretty please, doc?" it's like you lived to raise his blood pressure. 💜so, now back was was pressed into the cold wood of his table, your knees pulled apart on his broad chest. his dick slipped in and out of you as his tattooed fingers pinched your clit. "l-law, please." your eyes were brimming with tears. aching, fat droplets that fell down as he continued to fuck you on that creaking wooden desk. you babbled as he rut into you harder, flushed tip bumping against your abused g-spot, "'m done, i-i'm sorry ngh, c'mon." "you're hah— crying?" don't let anyone know but maybe law was a bit of a sadist with the way he grinned, "i thought you wanted this?" 💜good point. you were the one who wanted to be pinned down onto that wretched desk and fucked into till you lost the feeling in your legs and your body trembled with every shallow way he drilled into you. so, take it. any faltering whines and moans were pointless. his actions were unhurried, pace rhythmic even as you spasmed around him due to the overstimulation. as your velvety holes gnawed at him, the doctor found himself spilling into you with little to no sanity left in him. "hah fuck—" law breathed heavily, eyes going wide as he pulled out and saw his milky essence dripping out of you so obscenely. his gaze fell upon your flushed face. your eyes were clenched shut, mouth parted in utter bliss. all reason and rhyme left the man as he found himself nudging his tip back into your trembling cunt, "shit. come on, baby. you wanted this." he isn't lying. you did want it.

a/n: first time writing law, lowkey nervous teehee 🤭🤗. i come out of the writers block on and off so im sorry im shit at posting. also i know i wrote ace n law longer okay I KNOW DONT TELL ME SHHH. i just got carried away 👉🏻👈🏻. couldn't write ussop for the life of my but i hope you like it anyways @shinysp4rk mwuah <3 m.list

[choerypetal]

Hide and Seek / Homelander

(pt 2. of Meet and Greet)

summary ; In part two of the meet and greet, Homelander's obsession reaches new heights, leaving him unsatisfied at his core and willing to do anything to make you his.

!! read part one first! ; !!

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar mistakes, xo' (as it will be eventually corrected if needed)

tag list; @private-eye-on-you ; @lins-shenanigans ; @horrorxgorewhore @siredtom ; @certain-tragedies ; @hotchners-wifey ; @naelis-open-sea

enjoy xo'

Homelander's comment, 'You look lovely in the costume,' lingered in your mind for a week. You couldn't escape his presence. His silhouette, his maddeningly perfect face seemed to follow you everywhere—from your usual coffee shop to the special limited editions of The Vought, and even as you continued watching the show for longer periods of time. From Deep's special cupcakes to the coffee most loved by Homelander, his influence was everywhere, not just keeping the city alive but himself as well.

Although you didn't realize it, Homelander had become just as obsessed with you as he was with seeing his own face on the cup you were holding. From a distance, he watched your every move—the way your plump lips touched the cup, how you drank your coffee, and even how you covered his image with your hand. Despite finding your behavior an offense, he knew he’d eventually have to tease about it. The sadistic man that he was, wasn’t afraid to even acknowledge it. Especially during their weekly Seven meetings. 

"So, I suggest we review some new recruits," Ashley said, her nervousness palpable. She wanted to please not only the public but, most importantly, Homelander. This was no easy task given recent events and the current situation. Homelander's obvious boredom showed his lack of interest, and Deep, poor thing, was just as disinterested, staring blankly at the screen and agreeing with whatever Homelander mumbled. However, Deep was secretly relieved not to have any of John’s powers. Especially right now. Because, at that exact moment, it was your face, and your face alone, that occupied his thoughts. Murmuring your name under his breath, he was fortunate not to get caught up in the moment. That of course, when a single cough from Ashley’s mouth was enough to slip his mind elsewhere. 

"You know, Ashley, just pick whoever you think will fit for now. Sign their papers. My brain is going to fucking explode from this hell hole," he said, standing up without even glancing at her. Not even Ashley's whiny complaints about the complications it might cause could stop him. He paused, considering for a moment that she might convince him. "Don't come to me for the next 24 hours," he snapped, his piercing blue eyes conveying a clear threat. When wasn't he a threat, anyway? "Or I'll personally fuck up every single one of you." That was enough to make her quickly nod in response. Poor thing, she only wanted to make him proud. A satisfied grin played on his lips, mirrored by Ashley's, though hers was a little more nervous. His, however, was genuine. 

You, on the other hand, had been fortunate enough not to see Homelander's face for a while. From the bookstore you frequented to the coffee shop, his presence seemed to pervade your life. Your mother didn’t help either, as she insisted on framing a picture of you with him in the living room—a gesture Homelander found endearing. On some nights, he would see you through the window, dressed in your pajamas, reading whatever caught your interest, with that picture always in the background. Unlike Homelander, it haunted your dreams.  

Deep down, Homelander struggled to resist the urge to invade your personal space, not wanting to frighten you. However, when he saw your forced smile at the meet and greet, he was reminded that a smile meant nothing to him. To him and you alone. It was your scent that drove him wild. At first, he considered going undercover, posing as one of your father’s coworkers, but he realized it would be futile. Why cover his own shame, when he could let his ego take it over?

So, he waited until sunrise. When he could finally entered your room, imagining you in your shortest pajamas, which hugged your curves so perfectly, he had to bite his bottom lip to control himself. Just by the thought of his fingers sinking into your flesh as you leaned toward him for more...

"Goodbye, Mom!" Your voice echoed in Homelander's mind as he realized he'd been lurking around your house since last night. He had been trying to dismiss, the missed call records provided by Ashley, however, unable to ignore them. Fortunately, he was hidden well enough that you didn’t notice him as you exited the house.

Your hair meticulously washed, your skin fresh with makeup, and that dress. Never in a thousand years, aside from his own enemies, did Homelander think he would become so obsessed with someone. He wanted to chuckle to himself at the irony, knowing he wasn’t being the most subtle superhero. When your gaze shifted toward his hiding spot, he quickly concealed himself behind a tree, exhaling in relief when you shrugged off the feeling of being watched. You then left for work, something Homelander knew all too well. This also meant he could meet your mother, who, after all, was his biggest fan. 

Fortunately, you managed to get through the day without a single client yelling at you. However, what you didn’t expect was an unexpected visit from the man himself. As you approached the door, you overheard some mumbling. Did your mother have a visitor today? 

And then it hit you.

Hearing the all-too-familiar voice say, "Oh, these look lovely," with a genuine smile, you froze in your tracks. Seeing your mother so happy, even more thrilled than a fangirl, like she’d seen god himself. She noticed you immediately. "My dear! Look who came to visit," she exclaimed, taking you into her arms for a hug. Before you could greet the guest, your eyes met his—Homelander, in your own home. 

"No need for theatrics, ma’am," he said with a casual chuckle, hushed by his own hand as he munched on the cookies your mother had made, casually wiping a droplet of milk with his thumb. Your mother giggled and said, "Mother is the name. We don’t have to get formal, right darling?" You blinked twice, hardly believing what you were hearing. Your mother was genuinely making Homelander feel comfortable, right inside your home. Given what you knew from your coworkers and the constant rumors, it was hard not to be creeped out by the thought that he might have done more than just a knock on the door that evening. Yet, you shrugged it off, thinking that perhaps playing the same game he did might be what he wanted after all. Like a cat and a mouse. 

There was a brief pause, then an idea sparked in your mother’s eyes as she looked at John one last time. "Why don’t you stay for dinner? Tonight is roasted chicken and mashed potatoes." How could he refuse? Spending more time with you was just the beginning of his obsession with protecting you and never letting you out of his sight. He smiled, his grin seemingly bigger than before, and nodded. "If Y/N doesn’t mind?" he said, his gaze shifting to you with a more serious expression. You gulped nervously, knowing you couldn’t just say no. "Yes—yes, of course," you stuttered. Oh, how adorable you looked.

“Then, make yourself at home dear.” 

Dinner was only just a few hours from now, with your father now back from work had asked for a personal photo with the Homelander, and a talk John appreciated more. Considering his own father exiling him completely, it was a breath of fresh air for him, especially when he’d be glancing a few times at you, doing whatever you had in mind before the dinner. “My daughter is going to be working for us,” your father would be saying proudly, Homelander could only nod listening actively. “She’d do a great addition I am certain.” his gaze now meeting yours immediately, when you gaze up from your book, he could notice a light shade of pink coming your cheeks. Cherishing it a little too much when your father’s voice then abrupt his mind, “She’s beautiful isn’t she?” he’d said a little too proud. 

She is indeed… Homelander thought to himself that same night. Just by how attentive he was with you. Even if it wasn’t  much of a conversation shared, the glances were enough to please him alone. Which during the dinner, he was not afraid to show. 

Dinner had passed rather quickly, you were glad it did. Considering you listening to whatever nonsense Homelander had to offer to keep your mother so relonctent toward him. Let alone, praise him as a her own god. Boosting an ego, to whom you couldn’t comprehend yourself, and that Homelander was sure to make it seem tonight. 

"Thank you so much for dinner, truly," Homelander said, wiping the corners of his mouth, his eyes never leaving you. Your mother’s gasp was enough to momentarily distract him, and he asked if everything was alright. She quickly assured him it was and invited him to stay until her cake was done baking. Naturally, John didn't decline the offer. "Y/N," your mother called your attention just as you were about to excuse yourself, "how about you give a little tour of the house? I'm sure Homelander would appreciate it." The formality of his name seemed daunting, but John quickly corrected her. "John it is. No need to be formal, now, do we?" A shiver crawled down your spine as your mother’s eyes gleamed with hope, her slender fingers clapping together. "Oh, well, of course! Now, Y/N, make yourself useful and make John feel at home." 

A sigh escaped your lips; there was no way to avoid this, was there? "Yes, of course. Where do you want to start?" Your eyes never left his, feeling yourself getting lost in them, becoming his little mouse to play with. "How about..." he began, his eyes wandering as if he couldn’t be bothered to think. "The bedroom," he finally said. You blinked twice, a third time to fully process his words. "What?" you replied, incredulous. He chuckled, amused by your reaction, and shrugged off the question as if he hadn’t meant it seriously. "Nah, kidding. Lead the way," he said. 

So you did. You felt his shadow hovering over you as you both walked through the house for a little tour. John was no longer hiding his presence, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his breath. By the time you reached your bedroom, the tour was complete, and your mother’s cake would be ready. However, John had something else in mind, and he wasn’t shy about showing it. “And this is the bedroom,” you said nonchalantly, hearing an obvious scoff from him. 

"Funny, isn’t it?" he said, this time his tone serious enough to make your muscles tense. His back was to you as his fingers touched the doorknob, ready to close the door. And he did, pausing momentarily. "Finally, we meet again." His remark made you tilt your head. Meet again? As far as you knew, he had been stalking you all along. But knowing who he was—Homelander, with his omniscience and twisted games—you had no say in the matter. Neither did you, especially after hearing his chuckle. 

“Now why so quiet?” the question was enough to make you unsease. You wanted to tell him, to oppose to him. But you couldn’t he was now yours to torment completely. When he leaned further, scoffing once more by your vulnerability. In that precise moment, Homelander knew he won. 

“Heard you were a good, fuck.” his voice so nonchanltly, a gasp leaving from your mouth as you were unable to speak more than standing right in front of him. How his eyes would wondered around your figure, approaching near to you, his fingers now leaning toward your waist. Gripping by its touch, hungry to fuck you there, in the bed. Raw. 

"Thank you?" you stammered, eager to please him. His grin broadened, fighting not to turn into a frown at your response. He was so satisfied that he gently caressed your cheek with his other finger. "You need me, not just to save you, but to satisfy you." Though your heart was broken, you were a toy Homelander cherished without fear. You were his perfect little toy, as he began to lick his bottom lip, his breath drawing closer, closing the gap between you. "Mine," he growled, his voice hoarse, undeniably hinting at his intentions. He was Homelander, able to do whatever he wanted. And that included you being his. "Got it, little mouse?"

Oh, how he longed to watch you squirm between his legs, begging for more, moaning his name. His persistence knew no bounds; he would do anything—from leaving bite marks to scratches, and even hickeys if necessary. But he couldn't just stand there without having a little fun, right?

"You see," he said, his voice dripping with teasing malice. Disgust welled up in your mouth, but you fought the urge to look away. He loved watching you squirm, the fear in your eyes fueling his twisted envy of every inch of you. "How about we play a little game tonight, hmm?" His thumb brushed gently over your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his.

"W-what game?" you managed to say, breaking your long silence. Even he was momentarily surprised, but your stutter made it worth it. "Hide and seek," he said, pausing for effect. "You hide, and I seek. If I find you, you're mine. Got that?"

You gave a quick nod, followed by a satisfied smile from him. "Good then, I'll start counting. One, two..." You hesitated for a moment, just as his grip shifted from your waist to your arm, preventing you from fleeing your own home. When your eyes met his, they were dark with passion, lust, and a desire to capture his little mouse until its very last breath. "Run..."

Little mouse.”

[aajjks]

FUCK! (VI)

synopsis. You hated your roommate but he had the biggest crush on you, fuck.

pairing: fboy!jk x fem!reader

genre: f2l, e2l, roommates au, fboy au (wow so many cliches), comedy au, mature themes, bad language, sex jokes.

disclaimer. this is purely fictional and this doesn’t represent bts’ jungkook irl. mature themes 18+ content ahead. mdni. ps. this jungkook thinks w his dick 👍

warnings jüngkøøk béïng döwn bàd (lïké réällÿ bäd), méntïøns øf tïts (béçäûsé øf çøûrsé), flüstéréd yn, bût shé’ll névér ädmït ït, jeøñ ‘nø filtér’ jüngkøøk, çhäøtïc énérgÿ évérÿwhéré, ünëxpëçtéd søft mømënts (døñ’t lét ït føøl yöü), jungkøøk béïng øbsësséd wïth yn ïñ thät drëss, brëädstïçk äbüsë, yn mïght bé çätçhïñg fëëlïñgs?? (üh øh), éxçéssïvé üsë øf thë wørd ‘bäbé’

note. OMG I HOPE YOU GUYS WILL ENJOY THIS. I AM SUPER SORRY FOR THE DELAY. PLEASE ENJOY OUR FUCKBOY.

series masterlist

You thought you’d feel normal again after giving Jungkook a chance,

Maybe even smug about the way he’d screamed like an idiot after you said yes. But, no. The man-child has been unbearable since this morning.

“Yn… what do you think about sunsets? Romantic, right?”

You glance up from your laptop, watching Jungkook hover in the doorway to the living room, hands clasped behind his back like he’s about to pitch a PowerPoint presentation about sunsets.

“Uh… yeah?” You squint. “Why?”

He grins. “Just gathering intel.”

“Intel for what?”

You are pretty sure he’s about to do something really stupid like always.

“Oh, nothing.” His smile turns suspiciously smug. “You’ll see. Just dress cute tomorrow night.”

You stare blankly at him for a second before turning back to your work. “Right. That’s not concerning at all.”

First of all, you don’t trust him for shit.

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but you can feel him still watching you. His energy practically radiates off him. You ignore him for as long as you can, but after a full two minutes, you can’t take it anymore.

“Do you mind?” you snap, not looking up.

Can he get out already?

“I can’t help it,” Jungkook whines. “You’re so hot when you’re focused. Look at you typing away like a boss. Ugh.”

You throw a pen at him, and he dodges, laughing as he runs back into the living room.

You can’t lie, his compliments make you feel a lot more hotter, and yes, you are kind of hot.

•••

Later that evening, you catch him in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with his phone in one hand and a protein bar in the other. He’s muttering to himself like a man with a mission.

“No, no, too cliché. Flowers are boring. Chocolate? Nah, she doesn’t like sweet stuff… But what if she secretly does?”

It’s official he’s fucking crazy.

You cannot believe that he’s actually talking to himself, but you kind of find it cute, he’s adorable, but you won’t say that to his face.

“Talking to yourself again?” you ask, grabbing a glass of water.

Jungkook jumps, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Uh—no. Totally not planning anything.”

Your brow lifts. “You’re literally the worst liar I’ve ever met.” A smile threatens to break.

He pouts. “It’s called mystery, yn. Look it up.”

“Sure, Jeon. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

As you head back to your room, you hear him mutter under his breath. “Mystery, huh? Yeah, I should add that to the date.”

•••

The next day, you’re already regretting giving him a chance. He’s been texting you all day with a mix of cryptic hints and straight-up nonsense.

And to be honest, he cannot type for shit.

Jk: do u like candles??? like…romantic ones

You: ?? sure i guess

Jk: got it

Jk: r u allergic to flowers??? asking for a friend

You: no. why.

Jk: just wondering. no reason. :)

Jk: YN CAN U WEAR THAT BLACK DRESS U LOOK SO GOOD IN PLS

You: ??????

Jk: or anything really. ur always hot. i love u btw.

This stupid fuck makes you smile so much.

By the time you get home, you’re exhausted. not from work, but from Jungkook’s constant existence. He’s waiting for you in the living room, dressed in a button-up shirt and black jeans, looking way too good for someone whose personality is 80% chaos and 20% football obsession.

“Why are you dressed like that?” you ask, dropping your bag on the floor.

Jungkook beams. “We’re going out! Duh. It’s date night, baby.”

“Date night?” you repeat, staring at him like he’s lost his mind. “I didn’t agree to that.”

“Yes, you did.” He crosses his arms. “Yesterday. When you said I could take you out. Ring a bell?”

It is sometimes fun to play dumb in front of him, you just like to test his patience a little bit.

“I didn’t think you’d plan it this fast.”

“What can I say? I’m efficient.” oh you know just how efficient he can be.

You sigh. “Fine. Give me twenty minutes.”

“Take your time, babe.” He grins, leaning against the doorframe as you walk past him. “Wear something sexy!”

What a shameless pervert but you will wear something nice nonetheless.

•••

Twenty-five minutes later, you’re sitting across from Jungkook at a rooftop restaurant. The view is gorgeous, the atmosphere is romantic, and Jungkook looks absolutely smug about the whole thing.

You’re honestly impressed, but seeing that smug smile on his face makes you want to strangle him, but damn, he outdid himself.

When it comes to Jeon Jungkook? You don’t really like to have high expectations of anything from him.

But he’s truly proved you wrong. Especially for a guy who doesn’t really do romance.

“So?” he says, resting his chin on his hand. “Am I killing it, or what?”

You roll your eyes. “You’ve done fine so far.”

“Fine?” He gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’ll have you know this is the best date anyone has ever planned in the history of dates.”

You’re gonna gag at his exaggeration.

“Relax, Jeon. You’re doing fine,” you tease, hiding your smile behind your glass of water.

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his usual cocky expression softening. “You’re really pretty, yn.”

“Trust me, Jeon. I know that.”

A sarcastic laugh leaves you at his awe struck expression. “You’re just saying that because I agreed to go out with you.”

“No, I mean it.” He leans forward, his gaze serious now. “You’re gorgeous. And smart. And funny. And I’m honestly losing my mind trying to figure out how I got this lucky.”

Your stomach flips, and for once, you don’t have a snarky comeback.

But of course, Jungkook can’t let the moment last.

“And your tits look amazing in that dress,” he adds with a wink.

You throw a breadstick at him, and he catches it, laughing so hard the entire restaurant turns to stare.

He’s never going to change and maybe a small part of your hopes that maybe he won’t ever change

•••

Back at the house, Jungkook walks you to your door like the gentleman he absolutely is not.

“So?” he asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Was I good enough for a second date?”

You smirk. “Maybe. If you promise not to mention my tits again.”

“No promises,” he says with a grin.

“Yn don’t be stupid. I’m just appreciating God’s masterpiece and you cannot stop me from doing that.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling as you shut the door in his face.

“Goodnight, yn!” Jungkook yells through the door. “I love you!”

You groan, but your heart skips a beat anyway.

You hope that tomorrow morning he will be normal, but.. most importantly you hope that your heart will behave normally.

[wonustars]

How Deep Is Your Love?

come to me on a winter breeze, keep me warm in your love ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆˙

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧  pairing: wen junhui x f.reader ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧  genre: established relationship, fluff, smut (R: mdni 18+) ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧  wordcount: 1.5k

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ summary: jun is your biggest fan, and he'd rather spend his new years worshipping you than spend time doing anything else. ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧  tags/smut tags: whipped!jun, established relationship, readers birthday is jan 1st, new years fic, birthday sex, dom!jun, sub!reader, oral (f. receiving), multiple rounds, rough sex, multiple rounds, spanking, reader is in love with jun's adams apple. ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧  note: for my jumepi, @junkissed, happy birthday to the oomf that i share my one brain cell with. sharks, im giving you 100% of my company for 10 dabloons. anyways enough silly talk, happy bday jumepi i've already read your comments on the doc and this is my second time posting this lawl. love u sm my queen of huihuis, enjoy your day ♡ (ps jun's balls are non returnable to ammazon). a special thank u to @monamipencil for beta-reading, ily!

“Don’t you think we left too early?” You mutter in between gasps of pleasure. 

The vibrations flowing from Jun’s mouth are hot on your neck as he peppers kisses against your supple skin. He had no reason to stay, not when he could spend time worshiping your body. 

He couldn’t care less about his friend's protests as he rushed the both of you home, ready to give in to his most carnal desires. There was no better way than spending New Year's Day and your birthday tangled between the sheets of your shared apartment. 

As he hastily removes your outerwear and his own, he finds himself slipping into your shared routine. First your coat, then your shoes, then his, and so on… all while his large palms search for the dip in your waist. Jun grips you tightly as his lips capture yours in earnest. The universe knew what they were doing, sending you to him. How else is he meant to spend New Year's if not within your tight cunt? 

“I don’t care if the guys are mad we left early, this is your day.” Jun grunts, wrapping your legs around his torso before making his way to your bedroom. 

“This happens every year, don’t you want to spend the New Year differently?” you retort, but he can only shake his head in protest. 

“If it doesn’t include worshipping my hot girlfriend then I don’t care,” he replies, pulling back to stare at you earnestly. 

Whatever argument you had built on the tip of your tongue dies as he presses your heat against his growing member. The moan that erupts from your throat is raw and high-pitched, a melodic symphony to your boyfriend’s ears.

As the two of you reach your bed, he throws you onto the mattress, knowing how much you love it when he showcases his strength in front of you. The mere thought of overpowering you while slipping himself into your wet hole leaves his cock twitching with desire.   

“Who gave you the right to be so corny?” you snort, propping yourself on the mattress as you watch Jun discard whatever clothing he had left. 

“Like I said, I can’t help it. Gotta show my baby how much I appreciate her,” he shrugs, dipping down into the bed with you. 

His nose rubs against yours affectionately, savouring your saccharine scent. Jun is left dizzy with lust, and most importantly love. One could only hope to feel the same amount of affection he does for you. From the top of your head to the very tip of your toes, he adores everything about you. Fuck everything else, he only needs one thing, one person. 

You. 

With his mind swimming, he drowns himself in your warmth. Fingers tracing the outlines of your bare stomach, trying his best to remove your sweater from your body.

“Enough teasing, please baby,” you whine. 

Jun didn’t think he was teasing at all, but he could never deny himself of your requests. Especially when you talk with such a needy tone. 

As much as he wanted to savour every crevice of your body, he couldn’t delay himself even further. The button of your jeans unclasp, and they’re off your legs within seconds. The denim flies across the room as Jun dives back into your neck, red marks blooming in his wake. 

Your head lolls back, giving him more room to work with. While his breath is hot along your skin, Jun’s hands grip the meat of your thighs. His hands shift higher until they’ve reached the apex of your awaiting sex. 

The whine you let out causes Jun to groan in response, but there’s something more important that awaits him. Tongue sliding against your inner thighs, he indulges himself in the scent of your nectar. The tip of his nose bumps against your clit and he peppers kisses along your folds. 

“F-fuck. Oh fuck! Baby–,” your barely comprehensible blabber is cut off the moment Jun sticks his wet tongue inside you. 

Massaging your folds, he continues to play with your pussy till your legs shake around his head. Your fingers grip the root of his blond hair, his mind blank as he focuses on one thing only. 

Handprints mark your thighs from the sheer strength he’s using to hold you in place, wanting you to succumb to the pleasure, to feel it in your core. Until the very moment your juices cover his lips and chin. 

“You taste like heaven,” Jun groans from underneath you. 

“J-just fuck me. Please, wanna cum with you,” you beg. 

The breath in Jun’s throat hitches, pulling away from your sweet pussy, he sits on his heels. One hand wraps around his hardened length while the other continues to rub on your sensitive bud. Your eyes are lidded with desire, completely fucked out just for him. 

He especially loves the way your cheeks flush whenever you're in a complete state of utter lust. The simple inhale and exhale of your breath, the way it causes your chest to heave in and out. One could only be this lucky to have you as their girlfriend. Jun can’t even come to comprehend what he has done to deserve your very being, but he can at least try to show you how deeply in love he is with you. 

“You ready baby?” He asks, although he knows you simply can’t wait a second longer. 

“Mhm, I love it when you fuck me hard. Will you do it for me? It’s almost my birthday you know,” you whisper, grabbing his hand to pull him over your body. 

Jun’s eyebrows scrunch, his resolve weakened by your voice, your words. 

“Fuck yes, gonna fuck you into the next year,” he mutters before grabbing your thighs once again. 

Your hand snakes its way down between your bodies, his cock hard, pulsating with need. Jun pants above you, waiting for you to align him with your sopping hole. 

The initial push into your tight cunt leaves him breathless, Jun’s thick cock stretching your inner walls with enough force that your eyebrows furrow with a mix of pain and pleasure. Forcing himself into you completely, he begins to move in and out with swift thrusts. The tip of his dick kissing your cervix every time his hips collide with yours. 

“So f-fucking tight,” Jun practically growls, hypnotized by the way your cunt is squeezing him. He can barely breathe. 

Pushing your thighs against your chest, Jun begins to pound into you incessantly. The backboard slams against the wall in tandem with his movements. He presses into you even further, wanting you to feel him in your stomach. 

“J-Jun, fu-uck.” you moan out salaciously, your hands intertwined behind his neck. 

Your lips move to his Adam’s apple, and his groans turn into whiny pants. You’ve always known that he was extra sensitive there, his length twitching inside you while you leave sloppy kisses absent-mindedly. 

His thrusts turn erratic the more attention you pay to his Adam’s apple, and it’s not long before he’s spilling his cum inside you, rutting his hips as he fucks you through his high. 

Although Jun can feel exhaustion wash over him, he doesn’t stop fucking your hot cunt. Hands grasp at your waist, turning you over until your ass is perfectly in his line of sight. A fistful of your hair forces your back to arch, his cock still red and angry as he pushes himself inside you once more. 

“Think you can take more of my cum baby?” He mutters into your ear, tightening his grip on you. 

“I can do it, I promise. Just fuck your cum into me,” you pant before a squeal leaves your lips. Jun’s free hand slaps your ass until it’s covered in handprints. 

“Keep doing that, please. I’m gonna cum,” you beg for him again, eyes watering as you reach the apex of your orgasm. 

Jun does as you ask, slapping you till he can feel your walls clench and unclench with every strike. The flow of juices coming from your pussy coats his cock, triggering another spurt of cum to release inside your spent hole. 

Out of breath and balls emptied Jun slumps onto your back, engulfing you into a tight hug. He refuses to pull out, wanting to stay inside you forever if you allow it. He cranes his neck, the clock on the wall striking midnight. January first. 

“Happy birthday baby, I love you,” Jun whispers in your ear, kissing the nape of your neck.

“I love you too, but can you get off my back? you’re crushing me.” Your face is planted into the pillows, voice muffled. 

“Oh right, hehe sorry,” he chuckles sheepishly. 

Finally pulling out of your dripping heat, he manhandles you until you're pressed up against his side—a content sigh leaving his lips. His chest blooms, bliss spreading throughout his limbs. Another year with the love of his life.

 One could only hope to be in love in the same way he is with you. 

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧  note: thank you for reading! although this is dedicated to june for her bday, i hope you enjoyed it too :) lmk what u think by leaving a comment or reblog hehe. see u soon - anna ♡

[itneverendshere]

how would the cameron family react to rafe dating a pogue

Ps: ward's not a monster in this, just an asshole and shitty dad, bc my boy rafe deserves a better father figure (but i also need his daddy issues to make this work) also, didn’t know if this request was for this couple but i felt like it fitted them perfectly so here we are again 🫶🏻🤗

found a girl my parents love - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Rafe selfishly wanted to keep you a secret for as long as he could. 

Not because he was ashamed of you—not even close. You were his, the only person who actually got him. That part of him he never let anyone see, not his family, not his boys.

It was complicated, though, and his family didn't do "complicated" well. Especially not with a pogue. His dad would flip if he knew he was dating someone he hadn’t been personally introduced to before.

The bartender from the club, of all people. The one they’d see serving drinks to them all summer, like you didn’t exist outside those moments. That was the thing though, you did exist, more than anyone he’d ever known. You were real. That’s why he wanted to keep it just for himself. It was his one thing that no one else could touch, could ruin. Topper knew, sure, but he wasn’t going to run his mouth to Sarah after she broke his heart.

So yeah, he held on to it, kept you away from the world that would tear it down before it even had a chance to really breathe. Until Weezie stumbled into your date at the ice cream shop.

He remembered the way his heart stopped when he saw her walk in. Of all places. Of all the people. She looked at him with wide brown eyes, then at you, and then back to him like she’d just walked in on something she wasn’t supposed to see. 

And honestly? She did.

“What the hell are you doing here, Weeze?” he snapped, more out of panic than anger.

"Uh? Getting ice cream?" Her face lit up, a huge grin stretching across her cheeks. “What are you doing here? And with her?” She looked at you, her excitement bubbling over before Rafe could get a word in. “Oh my God, this is so cool! You’re dating her? Like, for real?”

You smiled awkwardly, sensing the tension rolling off him. He looked like he was seconds away from shitting himself. He could’ve killed Weezie right then and there. But instead, he just sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, well… don’t tell anyone, alright?”

“Are you kidding?” Weezie practically bounced. “I won’t say a word. Scout’s honor.” She shot you a smile before turning to leave. “But like, this is so cool.”

He scowled at her, “Stop being creepy.”

You slapped his chest, scolding him “Be nice.”

“Oh, I like her!”

She kept her word. For a little while, at least.

A few weeks later, they were all sitting around the dinner table—Ward, Sarah, Rafe, and Weezie. Rose was out doing whatever the fuck she did with her friends. Everything was going fine until Weezie, mid-conversation about nothing important, let it slip.

“I saw Rafe and his girlfriend the other day,” she said, just like it was no big deal.

Girlfriend.

Rafe froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. Sarah looked like she’d just been smacked in the face.

“Girlfriend?” Sarah’s voice went up an octave. “Since when do you have a girlfriend?”

He shot Weezie a look that could shove her ten feet under, but it was too late. She slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing her mistake.

Ward raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “You got something to share with the family, son?”

Rafe cleared his throat, putting his fork down, already working up a sweat. He knew he couldn’t lie his way out of this one. And honestly?

Maybe it was time to stop hiding. He glanced at Sarah, who still looked at him like he was from outer space, then at his dad. He’d always given him shit about girls, all these big speeches about how none of them were ever worth bringing home unless he was serious. 

Well, he was serious.

“Yeah,” Rafe muttered, meeting his dad’s eyes. “I’ve been seeing someone.”

Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “Who?”

“She’s a pogue!”

Rafe closed his eyes, sighing as Weezie blurted the most important piece of information out. She really just dropped the biggest bomb in the most casual way possible. His dad’s expression didn’t change much, but Sarah? She was fully in shock, her jaw practically hitting the table.

“A Pogue?” Sarah repeated, like she couldn’t believe the words even existed in the same sentence as Rafe. “Are you serious? In this lifetime?”

He shot her a glare. “Yeah, a Pogue. What, is that some kind of crime?”

“What?” She shrieked, “You gave me so much shit when I dated John B!”

He clenched his jaw, his patience hanging by a thread. Of course she was going to bring up John B. She couldn’t let anything go. “That was different,” he snapped.

Sarah scoffed, folding her arms “Different? How exactly?”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Because John B’s a dirtbag who had you sneaking around doing God knows what. This is—” he stopped himself, trying to find the right words. “This is different, okay? She’s not like him.”

“So, it’s okay when you date a Pogue? Got it.”

“To be fair,” Weezie chimed in, “John B smelled like shit.”

He couldn’t help the snort that escaped his lips, even though the last thing he wanted to do was encourage her. Sarah shot Weezie a death glare, clearly not amused.

“Language,” Ward warned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I have to tell you girls? No swearing at the table.”

The room fell silent, everyone looking at Rafe like they were waiting for him to say something. His dad didn’t even look mad—if anything, he looked weirdly intrigued.

“So,” Ward said slowly, his gaze locking onto Rafe’s. “You’re serious about her then? Serious enough for me to meet her?”

Rafe swallowed. “Yeah. I am.”

“Alright. Let’s make that happen then.”

He blinked, completely thrown off. “What?”

Ward’s response was calm, almost too calm. “If you’re serious about this girl, then it’s time I meet her.”

Rafe just stared at him, unsure if he’d heard that right. His dad wasn’t angry? Was he impressed? Or was this some kind of setup?

“You... wanna meet her?” he repeated, like he needed the words to make sense.

His dad’s expression wasn’t the usual stone wall of judgment. “I’ve always said if it’s not serious, don’t bother bringing her around. You’re saying she’s important to you, right?”

“Uh, yeah…” Rafe’s voice trailed off, still half-expecting this to somehow turn into a lecture or some Ward Cameron test. “She is.”

He nodded, like he was already planning it. “Alright then, set it up. I’ll meet her.”

He couldn’t tell if this was a win or if he’d just walked into something he wasn’t prepared for. His whole plan was to avoid this exact conversation. He looked across the table, expecting Sarah to be just as blindsided as he was, but she was still stuck on one detail.

“You’re dating a Pogue,” she muttered, shaking her head like she couldn’t get past that fact. “I just… wow.”

Rafe shot her a glare. “Get over it.”

Weezie, always the little instigator, grinned. “She was cool.”

“Okay, so… when do I get to meet her?” Sarah’s brown eyes widened with curiosity. “Is she cute? What’s she like?”

This wasn’t how he thought the night was going to go at all. 

An hour later, he was lying in bed, staring at his phone, his mind still spinning from dinner. He pulled up your contact, hesitating for a second before hitting the FaceTime button. The screen flashed for a moment, and then there you were, all cozy in your own bed, unaware of what was about to hit.

“Hi baby,” you chirped, clearly happy to see him, “What’s up? You look stressed.”

Rafe rubbed his face, letting out a long breath. “Yeah, well, uh—something happened at dinner tonight.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion, tilting the phone closer to you. “What? Did Sarah say something dumb again?”

“Nah, worse,” he muttered. “Weezie... Weezie kinda let it slip. About us.”

Your eyes widened immediately. “Wait, what? She told them?!”

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a low chuckle at the memory of the whole dinner spiraling out of control. “Just dropped it casually like it was no big deal. Sarah freaked out, and my dad—" He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “He wants to meet you.”

For a second, you didn’t say anything. You just blinked, processing his words. 

“Wait... Ward Cameron wants to meet me? As in, your dad?”

“Yeah,” He mumbled, almost sheepishly. “He’s all, ‘If you’re serious, I should meet her,’ or some shit. Like it’s no big deal.”

You sat up straight, your heart racing. “Rafe, that is a big deal! What the hell do you mean he wants to meet me?!” Your voice rose, panic starting to take over. “Oh my God, I didn’t even think about having to meet your dad. I figured we’d just— I don’t know—figure it out later!”

Rafe winced, knowing this would freak you out. He tried to keep his voice calm, even though he wasn’t exactly calm himself. “Baby, it’s not like tomorrow or anything. We can plan it out.”

But you were already spiraling. “Your dad’s gonna take one look at me— What if he hates me? What if he tells you I’m not worth it, and then—” you paused, your voice breaking slightly, “What if you start to believe him?”

His stomach clenched at your words. He sat up, the phone now held closer to his face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. What are you even talking about?”

You bit your lip, your thoughts running wild. “I mean... what if he convinces you that I’m not good enough? What if you start seeing me differently? You know how your dad is—he could talk you out of this, talk you out of us.”

Rafe shook his head, almost angry that you’d even think that way. “Are you serious right now? No way in hell is that happening. I don’t give a shit what my dad thinks. You’re the one I’m with because I want to be with you.”

You sighed, your nerves still rattled. “But what if he tries to get in your head? You always talk about how much pressure he puts on you. What if he—”

He cut you off, his voice firm, assertive. “Look, I’m serious about you. I told him that tonight. It doesn’t matter what he says, because you’re the one I love. No one’s changing my mind about that. Not even Ward fucking Cameron.” His eyes softened a little. “I already met your sister. This is just the next step, yeah? It’s us. We’re solid.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

He hated this—hated that the idea of meeting his dad was making you feel like this, but he couldn’t blame you. Ward was intimidating even on his best days, and this was not going to be one of those days.

“You’re not gonna throw up,” he said, trying to calm you down, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

You shook your head, running a hand through your bed hair. “What if I say something dumb? What if I screw up, and he hates me, and then everything goes downhill? I’m not, like... your people. You know that.”

His jaw clenched, hating the way you thought of yourself like that. “Don’t say that,” he scolded, “You’re exactly my people. You’re my person.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No ‘buts.’” He cut you off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Listen to me. My dad’s opinion doesn’t change anything. He’s not gonna make me see you any differently. You’re still gonna be the same girl I’m crazy about, no matter what he says or doesn’t say. Got it?”

You took a deep breath, trying to believe him. “It’s just—I don’t know, Rafe. I don’t fit into that world, and what if he sees that right away?”

He hated that you felt this way, hated that his dad had this kind of power hanging over the two of you. “You don’t need to fit into his world, okay? You fit into mine, and that’s all that matters.”

Your lips quivered, and for a second, he thought you might start crying. He could feel the panic rolling off of you through the phone, and it hit him hard—he hadn’t realized just how terrified you were of this.

“What if he really doesn’t think I’m good enough for you?” You whispered, almost like you were scared to say it out loud.

Rafe’s heart clenched, and without thinking, he shot up out of bed, pacing his room like he needed to burn off the frustration

“You’re more than good enough for me.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away for a second like you were trying to compose yourself.

“I just don’t want him to—I don’t know? To make you feel like you have to choose between me and your family.”

He stopped pacing, his grip tightening on the phone. “If it ever came to that? I’d choose you. Every fucking time.”

You blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. “Rafe—”

“I mean it,” he said, cutting you off again. “I’m not letting my dad, or anyone else, get in the way. I don’t care if he’s Ward Cameron or the president of the United States. He’s not gonna run my life, and he sure as hell isn’t gonna ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you. And nothing my dad says or thinks is gonna change that. Ever.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall over. Not because you were scared anymore, but because of him. Because of how much he cared. How much he loved you, even when you were spiraling.

He was staring at the screen, concern written all over his face, brows furrowing, "Wait, are you crying?" His voice softened, like he wasn’t sure how to handle you like this, but he knew he wanted to. He needed to.

You quickly rubbed at your eyes, laughing to try and cover up the tears, "No, no, I just— got something in my eye." Your laugh was shaky, and you knew you weren’t fooling anyone.

He didn’t say anything for a second, just watched you with that loving look of his that made you want to bawl your eyes out even harder. He saw right through you. He always did.

“You know,” he finally said, “You don’t have to worry about all that shit. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

And that’s when you almost lost it. Because wow. No one had ever said something like that to you before, not until him. Never like that, like he really meant it, like you were the most important thing in his world.

You sniffed, trying to laugh it off again, but it just came out all soft and broken. “I’m just—” you paused, not even sure how to explain how you were feeling, “I’m not used to this. Like, you... caring this much. Loving me like this.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and he leaned a little closer to the screen, “I’m not stopping.”

“I know. I love you too.”

It was real now.

Meeting the Camerons wasn’t something you could avoid anymore, but at least you knew you had Rafe, a hundred percent.

“You still freaking out?” he asked, though his tone was lighter, like he knew the answer.

“Yeah,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But I’ll get over it.”

“Good,” he said, his smirk returning. “Because I kinda need you around.”

“Kinda?”

He grinned, dimples framing his face, “Okay, a lot.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Rafe hadn’t said a word the entire drive, which was already freaking you out more than you wanted to admit. His knuckles were white, tight around the steering wheel. His jaw was locked, teeth grinding together and you’d caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye at least three times in the past minute.

Your heart was hammering, stomach in knots, and you were starting to wonder if you might actually throw up by the time you got to Tannyhill.

“Baby, seriously, if we crash into a tree ‘cause you’re having a silent meltdown over there, that’s not gonna help either of us.”

He blinked, finally loosening his grip on the wheel. “Sorry. I’m just—fuck, I don’t know.”

You tried to smile, but it felt weak. “Yeah, me too. I feel like I’m walking into some kind of corporate job interview I didn’t apply for.”

Rafe snorted. “Yeah, except the CEO’s a control freak and the company’s, I don’t know, cursed or something.”

That made you laugh, a short, nervous laugh, but still. You appreciated the attempt at humor, even if the nerves in your stomach weren’t going anywhere.

“So, uh... game plan?” you asked, half-joking, but mostly serious. “Am I supposed to shake his hand? Call him Mr. Cameron? Or is it more of a ‘hey, what’s up, Ward?’ situation?”

Rafe finally cracked a grin, shaking his head. “God, I don’t know. Don’t call him Ward; that might send him into some power trip. But definitely don’t call him Mr. Cameron either, ‘cause that’ll just make it weird.”

“Great, so I’ll just go with ‘Hi’ and hope I don’t trip over my own feet.”

“Perfect,” Rafe deadpanned, glancing over at you, “Just be yourself. He’s not as bad as you think. Mostly.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Mostly?”

Rafe’s lips pressed together. "He's not gonna throw you out or anything. And if he does, we’re leaving together. But Sarah...”

“Sarah,” you groaned, leaning your head back against the seat. You’d barely met Sarah, and from what you could tell, she wasn’t exactly thrilled about Rafe’s choice in girlfriends.

“Just don’t let her get to you,” Rafe muttered, his hand reaching for yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “She’s just mad because I used to make John B’s life a living hell.”

“Define hell.”

Rafe smirked, his fingers still interlaced with yours. "I mean, I threw him off a boat once," he said casually, like that wasn’t one of the most insane things you’d ever heard.

You blinked. “You what?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road, like it was no big deal. “He was running his mouth about me."

You stared at him in disbelief, “And you think I’m the one who needs to be worried?”

He laughed, finally loosening up a little, “Relax, baby. I’m not throwing you off anything.”

“So she’s not mad about me? She’s just mad about the double standard?”

“Yeah.”

That made it a little easier to breathe.

The silence settled back in for a moment as you pulled up to Tannyhill. The sight of the massive estate took your breath away. You couldn’t help but feel like you were entering a completely different world now that you were here—a world that wasn’t exactly built for you.

Rafe must’ve noticed the way your hands gripped the edge of your seat a little tighter because he let out a long breath.

“Hey, it’s just a dinner. We eat, we talk, we leave. It’s not like they’re gonna put you under a microscope.”

You gave him a side-eye. “You know, I wasn’t nervous until you said that.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Shit. Sorry.”

The car came to a stop, and you could see the flicker of lights through the windows of the house. The pressure in your chest was building, but Rafe turned toward you, his hand cupping your face.

“Listen,” his blue eyes locked on yours, “I don’t care what happens in there. You’ve got me. If anyone makes you feel like you don’t belong, we’re out. Promise.”

You swallowed hard, nodding as you leaned into his touch. “Okay.”

“I’m serious,” he continued, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “One word and I’ll get you out.”

You kissed his palm, “I know.”

“Okay.” he muttered, then pulled away, giving one final deep breath before turning off the ignition. “Let’s get this over with.”

You both stepped out of the car, Rafe knocked once, and within seconds, it swung open to reveal Sarah standing there in all her kook-with-pogue -tendencies glory.

“Well, well,” she smirked, eyes narrowing at you two.

Rafe shot her a sharp look, “Knock it off.”

She rolled her eyes, stepping aside to let you in. “I’m kidding. Kinda.” She turned her attention to you, and you could feel her sizing you up, looking completely unfazed as she led the two of you further into the house. "Dad’s in the study. He’s waiting."

Your heart skipped a beat at that. Waiting? What did that even mean?

Rafe must have felt your nerves spike because he reached for your hand again, squeezing it as you followed Sarah down the long hallway.

The house felt even bigger on the inside, with its high ceilings and fancy decor. You felt out of place. But then you peeked over at Rafe, and something about the way he held your hand made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you did belong.

At least to him.

Sarah finally stopped outside a large wooden door, turning to you with an exaggerated sigh.

"Good luck.”

Rafe hesitated for a second, his hand still gripping yours tightly. "You ready?"

No. Absolutely not. But you nodded anyway. "Yeah. Let’s do this."

He pushed open the door, and there he was.

Ward Cameron, sitting behind a massive oak desk, looking as powerful and intimidating as ever. His eyes flicked up from whatever paperwork he was working on, settling on you with a sharp intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Rafe," Ward said, his voice smooth and controlled, before turning his gaze to you. "And you must be... her."

You swallowed hard, trying to muster up the courage to say something, anything. "Yeah, that’s me. Hi, Mr. Cameron."

You immediately regretted it. Mr. Cameron? It sounded too formal, too awkward.

Ward didn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, he looked amused. He stood up, coming around the desk to get a better look at you. His eyes scanned over you briefly, but it wasn’t the cold, judgmental look you’d expected. Instead, it felt more like... curiosity.

"So, you’re the girl my son’s been so serious about."

You nodded, wanting to be anywhere but stuck in that claustrophobic room despite its size, "That’s me.”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked between you and Rafe, “I hear you’re working at the Country Club.”

It wasn’t really a question—more like he already knew everything about you. Oh. You didn’t like that, knowing that someone else was snooping around for dirt on you. At least it sounded like that was the plan.

You managed a nod, trying to keep your voice from sounding too hushed. “Yeah, I’ve been working there for a while.”

His expression didn’t really give anything away, but the way he looked at you, was unnerving. Rafe’s hand squeezed yours, reminding you that, no matter what, he had your back. One word and you were out.

“Good,” Ward finally said, “I like that you work.” He sneaked a stern look at your boyfriend before turning his attention back to you. “He could use some of that drive.”

Wait. What?

You hadn’t expected that. You thought maybe he’d grill you or give you the whole ‘what are your intentions with my son’routine. But no, he was... complimenting you? It had to be some kind of set up.

“Dad—” Rafe started, clearly not expecting that either, but Ward cut him off with a raised hand.

“No, seriously.” His eyes were back on you, and there was almost a smile there, like he was actually impressed. “It’s a good quality. I respect people who work hard, people who don’t just expect things to be handed to them. And from what I’ve heard, you’re one of those people.”

You didn’t even know what to say.

Ward Cameron? Complimenting you? Was this real life? You’d walked in here prepared for a full-on interrogation, and instead, he was... encouraging.

“I just hope some of that rubs off on my son,” Ward added, shooting Rafe a look, and you swore there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “He could stand to work a little harder. He’s always been a bit lazy.”

You bit back a laugh, glancing over at Rafe. He was glaring at his dad, but you could tell he wasn’t really pissed, just...embarrassed. You found it endearing.

“Thanks, Dad,” Rafe mumbled.

“I like it. Maybe you’ll inspire him to work a little harder.”

You blinked. Wait, was this actually happening? Did Ward Cameron, of all people, just say he liked you? This whole night felt like it was gonna be a disaster, and now... maybe it wasn’t gonna be so bad. You hoped so.

You really wanted his family to like you, you felt like you owned him at least trying.

“You know," Ward began, "I wasn't always the man you see standing here today." His voice took on a reflective tone, and you could sense the change in the atmosphere as he prepared to tell his story. "I grew up on the Cut, just like a lot of those kids you see around he, like you,” Ward said, almost casually, but you could tell it wasn’t a casual thing for him. "Back then, I didn’t have much. But I worked my ass off to get out of that place. I didn’t have a name, no wealth behind me. What I have now? I built that from the ground up. No one handed me anything."

Rafe, who had been quiet up until now, let out a small, barely audible sigh, shifting uncomfortably beside you. You took a quick glance at him and caught the unmistakable eye-roll he tried to hide.

Clearly, this wasn’t the first time Ward had given this speech. But at the same time, you could tell he was relieved that his dad wasn’t tearing into you. That had to count for something, right?

Ward, oblivious or perhaps just unfazed by his son’s reaction, continued, his voice gaining momentum like he was giving you some kind of motivational speech. "It wasn’t easy. There were plenty of times when I could’ve given up, but I didn’t. I pushed through, made connections, took risks. That’s how you get ahead. You have to be willing to do whatever it takes. Now look where I am—" He gestured around at the lavish room, the estate itself practically a testament to his success. "I built an empire. Something real. Something that can last."

You nodded politely, unsure if you were supposed to say something. Rafe’s obvious eye-rolling and silent huffs of frustration beside you made it clear that he’d heard all this a hundred times before. He shifted in his seat, crossing his arms, clearly waiting for his dad to wrap it up.

But Ward wasn’t done yet. He turned his attention back to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The point is," he said, his tone softening a little, "I respect people who are willing to work for what they want. I see that in you. It’s not about where you start—it’s about where you’re going."

Rafe let out a short, quiet breath that you might’ve missed if you weren’t sitting right next to him. He shot you a small, knowing smile, almost like he was apologizing for the speech but also relieved that Ward wasn’t being an asshole.

You squeezed his hand under the table. At least his dad wasn’t tearing you down.

"Thanks, Mr. Cameron," you said, finally finding your voice. "I really appreciate that."

He nodded, seeming satisfied with himself. "Just remember," he added, his voice lowering as if he was giving you some kind of life lesson, "Hard work pays off. You keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll get somewhere. Don’t ever settle, not even for him.”

“Thanks again.”

Rafe looked like he was about to explode from how much he was holding back, but he just gave you a quick wink as if to say, Yeah, this is typical dad, but hey—he likes you, so we’re good.

Ward clapped his hands together, the moment of sincerity quickly passing. "Alright, well, I think dinner’s ready. Shall we?"

He strode ahead, leading the way out of the study and toward the dining room, leaving you and Rafe a few steps behind. The moment he was out of earshot, you looked up at Rave, “You think we’re good?”

He smirked, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes, his tone all teasing. “Baby, I think he might build you a pedestal.” 

You couldn’t help but snort, trying to keep your voice down as you followed Ward. “Really? After that ‘self-made empire’ speech?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, giving you a knowing look. “Trust me, if you got through that and he didn’t start questioning your entire existence, you’re golden. The man sees himself in anyone who works hard enough to breathe without permission.”

You bit back a laugh, gripping his hand as you walked down the long hallway. “Yeah, I was getting that vibe.”

His grin grew wider, his thumb skimming over your knuckles. “And look, usually, it’s a full-blown interrogation by now. You’re good.”

You raised your eyebrows, slightly surprised. “Really?”

Rafe nodded. “Oh yeah. Sarah’s brought home guys before and it was... rough.” He shook his head, “He actually likes you. That’s rare.”

Maybe things with the Camerons were actually going to be okay.

[nnight-dances]

BEAUTIFUL MONSTER

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x afab!reader

GENRE: angst, smut, fluff in that order of significance

TROPES: workplace romance, boss!jeonghan x associate!you, casual fwb situation but they're not friends they're coworkers, intense banter, nakamoto yuta makes a cameo, toxic relationship at some point but it gets better trust me.

"beautiful monster" because in private, jeonghan is nothing short of an angel to you – charming and devious, teasing but all in good faith, in faith that he was interested in you. but in public, he's monstrous with his cold shoulder, his indifference to you like you weren't in his bed every night, humming him to sleep.

PS: what are you doing with your life if you haven't listened to beautiful monster yet???? go listen to the gift from god called this man from jeonghan x wonwoo okay bye ily

"what makes you think you can prance into my office all prettied up and not even say a hi to me?" 

you look up from the stack of paper you're holding, and innocently tilt your head. "sorry, boss," you accentuate the last syllable with a smile, "just trying to be as resourceful as i can be." 

"oh, come on," jeonghan swivels dangerously in his hefty desk chair, all just to show you the little ridiculous hint of a smirk on his lips. "you're not really mad about that?"

"about what, sir? i'm just doing justice to my position in my short time here, after all."

"you know, quoting things i said back at me isn't as effective of an attack as you think it is, y/n," he tells you, but you can tell he's a little worked up because he shifts a little in his seat. "cut the fucking attitude, princess, what's wrong?" 

you narrow your eyes at him, more so at his audacity to pull out the private nickname in your shared place of work in broad daylight. and on a wednesday no less. "nothing's wrong, mr. yoon. i'm just reflecting on your incredibly insightful speech at the meeting earlier. seems like i don't know you all that well."

"well, you do know me all that well, which is why deep down, you know that whatever i said it wasn't addressed to you." jeonghan stands up and you have to swallow the smug look that threatens to spill out. 

yoon jeonghan, the star employee at his company, didn't get out of his chair, not even to greet the most valuable client. yet here he was, walking to you, hand on your elbow, dangerously unprofessional. 

"must be really deep down because i don't think the man i know would be that cruel to our newest hire," you bite back, shaking his hold over you, "and perhaps it would've helped me interpret you better if you didn't address your grand speech to every low-level associate in the room."

"low-level–? y/n, you know that–"

you don't let him finish, sure he'd find a way to spin his words and get out of being held accountable for the shit he spewed two hours ago. well, you weren't gonna let him get his way, not this time. you bow politely, "good day, mr. yoon. let me know if i can assist you with any work-related matters." 

god, you could be vexing when you wanted to, jeonghan thought to himself watching you stride off in your unbelievably well-fitting pants. he does wonder how you manage to never show up to work covered in creases, what with all the running around you do, from his place to yours every morning. okay maybe every other morning, but it was impressive, the way your white shirts were always crisper than the morning coffee you handed him on your way to your desk, and the way he'd never managed to see your lipstick a smudge out of place in all the time he'd worked with you.

"where'd jenna go again?" you question out loud when you return to find the new hire out of her desk yet again. she'd been the reason jeonghan had burst into his impormptu but condescending talk and though he had some fair reason to speak the way he did, you didn't appreciate the hierarchical intimidation it encouraged. 

"um, i think she just took her fifth bathroom break of the day," muttered seulgi with a grimace. "every time she does that the number of files on my desk goes up."

"send 'em over, seulgi."

"what? no, you have more than enough on your plate–"

"my research and writing skills are what got me hired, so i might as well revisit my roots once in a while. plus, it's gonna take a while to replace jenna, if we're trying to find someone this late."

"all right then, i guess i'll bring these over to you then," seulgi says in an apologegtic tone as she plops a fresh set of files on your desk, which has managed to stay clear of any such physical copies of documents since last year when you convinced joshua to make the firm go paper-free.

well, mostly. except for monkey jobs like this one which usually went to inexperienced hires. but given the unfortunate situation you find yourself in, you have no choice but to ignore your strcitly digital policy to pull out your wooden pencil for the first time in a while.

it takes you long enough to get through half of the stack that jeonghan's done for the day and you haven't moved an inch. he pauses in front of your desk, taken aback at the sight of you reading through a physical file. and then he notices the empty desk down the line, one that should've held the redhead called jenna. 

"and since when did you start doing unpaid labor?"

you look up with a start and sigh when it's jeonghan. "good night, mr. yoon." 

"wow, that's cold. can't a superior worry about his precious protege's wellbeing? y/n, you're overqualified for this work so why don't you put it down and go home?"

your mouth twitches with a bitter comment you barely hold in. "i'm the best person for this job till we find someone else to do it. i'm also the only one with the balls to sit down and finish it on top of my own workload. so i'm sorry but i won't be putting this down just yet. did you want me to call driver choi for you?"

jeonghan blinks silently at you, realizing you weren't gonna listen to a word he said, not even if he was the only voice of reason in your vicinity right now. he shrugs, "i can see myself out. just be here on time tomorrow, we have an important case to discuss."

"as you wish," you nod cordially and return to your work. 

– 

jeonghan's up till four that night, which is when he hears you shuffle into his condo. he silently thanks his past self who decided to drop a spare key to his place when your visits had become a regular thing. 

you're pulling your hair out of the tight ponytail you'd kept it in all day and throw the tie on the nightstand, almost screaming out of your skin when you see jeonghan looking at you, propped up on his shoulder. 

"what the fuck– why are you still awake?"

"why are you mad at me?"

you ignore his question and start untuck your shirt from your pants, unbuttoning them. 

"oh my god, is this the day you finally have mad sex with me–?"

you give jeonghan an unimpressed smile as you let the pants drop and throw yourself into the empty space beside him, closing your eyes with a weary sigh. "wake me up at 6."

jeonghan being the devious idiot he is, only worsens with every second you don't address his words directly. he rolls closer to you, hand finding his place under your shirt, on your hot stomach. "babydoll, i'm sorry you had to work so late," he whispers as he presses a kiss to your skin. "but if you don't talk to me, i can't make things right."

"you can't make things right, period, jeonghan," you tell him, eyes still closed. the man wouldn't get any more of your energy than you could help. "i'll be back to normal if you just let me sleep."

"you're being mean, baby, just let me make it up to you, okay?"

"jeonghan, unless you can change who you are as a very human being, i don't think there's anything you can do," you strain, shoving him away, "i'm not about to throw a tantrum so don't worry. let me sleep if you want to have your best associate working for you tomorrow."

that seems to get the message across because he doesn't say another word. or maybe he does but you're too busy slipping into the sleep you desperately need after a crazy work day. jeonghan wakes you up with a solemn look on his face and you sit up in a panic, thinking something's gone wrong at work.

but then he says, "sorry, i overslept. it's 7. you'll have to wear the spare pair of clothes you keep here to work."

"i hate you," you shriek as you jump out of bed, rushing to freshen up in his bathroom as he nods and starts getting ready himself. he does seem like he's keeping to himself because usually, jeonghan would've made a few too many comments about how cozy and domestic it is for the two of you to be using the same mirror to get ready as if his place didn't have any other mirrors to use. he even lets you fix his tie without a snarky comment, just a little kiss on your cheek that you barely tolerate without a shake of your head. 

he watches you put on the makeup you keep in your purse for emergencies like this, but can't help muse over how much he must hate to the idea of losing you at work to be acting this obedient. you smile a little to yourself, pleased at least at his respect for you, if not his love. 

truth be told, you often regretted being in this strange more than coworkers but less than lovers situation you had with yoon jeonghan, your direct superior at work. but you were too deep in it to back out, too down bad for the man's charms to turn your back to him. 

it had started almost as soon as jeonghan had laid eyes on you, his private conversations with you always consisted of one too many suggestive comments and he somehow always managed to flirt with you without you truly registering it. by the time you recognized the unprofessional nature of your relationship with him, you were five kisses too late. late nights at the office turned into late nights at his place, because it was conveniently much closer to the office than yours. 

somewhere along the way, though, you had to face the harsh reality that no matter how sweet jeonghan could be when he was flirting with you, he was always going to be something of a beautiful monster. because in private, jeonghan is nothing short of an angel to you – charming and devious, teasing but all in good faith, in faith that he was helplessly into you. but in public, he's monstrous with his cold shoulder, his indifference to you like you weren't in his bed every night, humming him to sleep.  

the harsh reality you face that very morning when he calls you into his office. 

"morning how can i–," you start and then make eye-contact with the man seated on the sofa across from jeonghan. "oh, morning, mr. nakamoto! i didn't realize you were in town!"

nakamoto yuta laughs loudly at your hurried greeting, crossing his legs as he shamelessly checks you out. "oh, come now, call me yuta like the good old days, y/n! and where were you this morning when i was all over the place trying to find the famous yoon jeonghan's office."

"ah, i'm sorry i was a little late this morning–" you spare a glance at jeonghan smiling in his chair, "my cheap excuse of an alarm didn't go off on time. i really should get a new one."

"if you'd come to work for me like i asked, you wouldn't have to work at the ass crack of dawn y'know?" yuta raises a brow at you with a small grin and you tuck some hair behind your ear bashfully, not forgetting to observe how jeonghan is stiff in his seat. as stiff as a slick bastard like him could get anyway because you could've missed the glare he shot you when he stands up and crosses the room to yuta. 

he pauses next to you, cold hand coming to rest on your arm, a possessive gesture explicit enough for yuta to muse over. "i didn't realize you came in here to declare war over my best associate, yuta, or i would've prepared harder."

the japanese businessman laughs wholeheartedly, "sorry, han, you know i can't help myself these days. it's getting harder to find familar faces in the industry these days, what with all the incompetence that's cropping up." he sighs then with a glance in your direction, "still mad you came to work for this asshole over me."

you chuckle, letting down your guard a little at the man's sincere comment. "what would've been the point of working at your company when you'd always be across the globe, vacationing in some fancy hotel every other week?" you question with a smile, "anyway, don't lose hope, maybe i'll change career paths mid-life, so don't delete my resume from your system just yet."

"all right, i'll take that as a promise," yuta winks at you as you take your leave from the office. 

an hour or so later, you're summoned to jeonghan's office again, with a brief, "y/n, please." you suppress the urge to roll your eyes, knowing there wasn't any real need for you to be in the room with them except for yoon jeonghan's egoistic need to fuck with your head. 

"how can i help you?" you ask with your sweetest business smile and jeonghan stands up from the sofa next to yuta. he gestures to the other man with a glint in his eye, "y/n, mr. nakamoto says he has the rest of the day to himself before he heads out. i thought it'd be a waste to just let him roam on his own, why don't you accompany him?"

you blink blankly at jeonghan, taken aback at his thoughtless request. treating you like just another associate who worked under him was one thing, but treating you like his personal assistant who'd entertain his friends' whims was entirely another. 

and you know he realizes this because of how closely he's watching you, lips set in a lilt because he loves seeing his stupid little scenarios play out. yuta stands up when he senses the tension, "ah, don't bother y/n, han. i'm sure she has a lot of work to do. i'll just–"

"no, no, i insist," jeonghan pushes, only glancing at the man he was so earnestly trying to please. "you don't mind, do you, y/n?"

you inhale, sensing the challenge behind his words. the way he said it, it was almost inappropriate for work, the smirk and the way his eyes were all over you. but honestly, you hated his guts for trying to get you down like this. so if a challenge was what he wanted, then that'd be exactly what he was going to get. 

"not at all!" you start, a cheerful beam on your face that catches both men off their guards and you continue, "please, i was hoping for some time to catch up with mr. nakamoto– sorry, with yuta, anyway, so honestly, thank you, mr. yoon. i'll just go grab my stuff and meet you in the lobby?"

"oh– okay, sure thing," yuta mutters, glancing between you and jeonghan uneasily. you don't spare your boss another look as you leave his office and furiously pack your things into your purse, slinging it over your arm. "i won't be back today, seulgi, so don't text me unless everyone starts dropping dead while i'm gone."

–

"so you don't show up at work all day and then you ignore all my calls? i am your boss, y/n, you can't just blow me off whenever you please," jeonghan's voice is muffled on the other side, and you're guessing he's in his car, on the way back to his place. 

you, on the other hand, had been home for nearly three hours now after your little date with yuta, the man who'd walked around the city with your for a few hours before taking you out to a late lunch slash early dinner at the nicest place you'd been to in a while. so yes, you were in a good mood and honestly, hearing how mad jeonghan is on the line only makes you smile more. 

"oh, sorry, i didn't realize you were bipolar like that," you say in a pleased voice, "because last i remember you basically begged me to babysit your client for you."

"client?" jeonghan scoffs,  "you make it sound like you weren't sleeping with that guy for almost five years before i came along."

"well, i'm sleeping with you now and you don't hear me calling you anything but my boss to anyone."

"you're a real piece of work sometimes, aren't you?" the man snaps and then after a solemn pause, "what did you do with him all day, anyway?"

you chuckle softly, "can't disclose private matters like that i'm afraid. besides, i'm having real trouble understanding why you sound pissed at me when all i was doing was following your instructions."

"huh, that's funny, you want to get rewarded for running around with another man while i was banging my head at the wall all day today? don't ever try to pull shit like this again or–"

"or what, jeonghan? you're gonna fire me?" you ask, "how about you stop treating me like i'm the dirt on your shoe as soon as you're done using me for sex? i'm not your personal assistant that you can just order around to wet your friends' cocks whenever you fucking want, okay? or i'll be the one considering yuta's offer seriously." 

before jeonghan can have a chance to respond, you hang up on him, breathing deeply to calm yourself down. you take in your apartment, somewhat of an abandoned mess with all the nights you'd spend at jeonghan's. you felt guilty for own behavior, ignoring your own needs for so long that you'd forgotten what being respected really felt like. maybe what you needed was a real relationship.

–

"that's always been your problem, y/n," rina groans, "you always forget that there's men other than the ones you work with."

"ouch! you make it sound like i've only ever fucked my coworkers–"

"worse, your bosses–"

"okay, so it happened like twice! you're forgetting all the wholesome moments i had in high school," you warn her across the table with a fork. 

"you mean how you rejected any decent guy with genuine feelings for you in favor of chasing older men who didn't know your name?"

"i'll have you know i chased those old men because they were the ones who could get me the job i have today, so i won't apologize for doing what i had to do to have the career i wanted."

rina sighs, "that's not the problem. you could've networked with the people working in the industry and had a healthy relationship with someone your age. but you always got so emotionally attached to anyone who offered you advice that you didn't have time for anything else."

you stare at your coffee dejectedly, swallowing the hard truths your oldest friend was hurling at you. cruel as she was, you knew she wasn't going to sugarcoat things for you, not when you dragged her all the way across town on a saturday to have lunch with you when she had a million other things lined up with her upcoming wedding.

"i don't know how you do it, rina," you mumble, "you've a stable job, a beautiful home, and a doting fiance. god, that's like three worlds apart from the dump of a reality i live in."

"okay, now that's just untrue, y/n," rina scolds you softly, shaking her head, "plus, you have the first two things on that list."

"i have a job, but my place is far from home. i don't even sleep in it most days, plus, i think the last factor on the list kinda trumps everything else by a lot."

"well, who is that on anyway? it's not like you're undesirable or fucked up, you know?"

you groan, "what should i do, rina?"

"find someone who doesn't work the same 100 hour work week as you might be a start? maybe then you can stop treating your boss like a god."

"rina, you don't understand," you complain, "i know i make it sound too good to believe, but he's the smoothest talker you'll ever see and god, don't even get me started on how good he is in bed–"

"y/n, it's not the man's dick that matters, it's his heart," rina interrupts and when she doesn't burst out laughing like you do, you stop with a questioning look. "i'm serious, dude, you're not gonna be in it for the sex like 10 years down the line when everything hurts, inside and out. trust me, the minute you meet even a remotely normal man with reasonable expectations from life, you'll know what i mean–"

"that's the problem–" you start to explain your own beliefs when a head in your periphery catches your eye. "fuck me," you groan immediately when you realize who's sitting about two tables away from you.

"come on, y/n, i just talked to you about this, you can't be thinking about–"

"no, no, listen, don't look right now, but…" you trail off in disbelief and then force yourself to finish, "but my fucking boss is sitting to our left."

"you mean the fucking boss… you're… fucking?"

"yeah, that one…"

a few beats pass as rina slowly takes a look at the man across from you, hair down from the low ponytail it usually found itself in. at the perfect timing, jeonghan laughs at something the lady across from him says, hair bouncing to reveal his flawless features. 

"wow, he looks like nothing like you've described him as–"

"what, i've been going on for hours about–"

"about his charm, not how drop-dead gorgeous he is! i've been imagining some greasy old douche, not this tall glass of water…"

"first of all, your lack of trust in my taste in men is truly offensive… and–"

rina interrupts you, for the nth time in every conversation that you've ever had with her. "–it's worth mentioning that your taste in men is walking toward us as we speak–" 

"what…" you look up all too suddenly to find the man a few steps away, sly smirk in place as he approached you. 

"hello there, ladies," he starts in a low amused smile and god, if you could strangle him or yourself into silence just there you would've but instead you match his smile. 

"oh– hi, mr. yoon, i didn't expect to run into you here," you laugh it off with a pointed look at him, hoping he'd have the common decency to fuck off when you were clearly with a friend on one of your only days off. 

but you should know better because jeonghan will never give up a chance to open his mouth, especially in front of a stranger he hasn't had the chance to charm yet. 

"and neither did i! but here i am, with my lovely coworker and her…" his eyes dance over to rina who flushes under his gaze by the slightest, "gorgeous friend?"

you roll your eyes at the question and don't think it worth mentioning, especially when you're too busy choking yourself over his description of you as a 'coworker'. yeah, right. 

"right, we were just–"

"talking about the guy who's interested in y/n!" rina chimes in, her grin saying she thinks she's helping you but you kick her under the table, warning her to cut it off. 

"what–"

"huh, what's that again?" jeonghan asks, smile momentarily faltering at rina's comment. 

"ah, you know, y/n's just been so popular with guys since i've known her but she's never had time to settle down. but this guy's just been dying to meet her and when she called me to lunch today, i thought she'd finally be ready to meet the man of her dreams."

"the man of my dreams?" you choke yet again over a strangled laugh, "rina, you're really funny. you know i have nothing of that sort–"

"oh, come on," rina brushes you off with a scrunch of her nose and turning to jeonghan who seemed immersed in the bullshit your best friend was spewing. "she's just too shy to talk about it but– she told me, too drunk off her ass to remember, she'd only want to marry a man who was desperately head over heels for her, gives up everything to be with her, just to see her smile–"

"rina, i think–"

"and oh, what was it that you said? he needs to be able to think what i think before i've thought it? i'm not even looking at him if he doesn't worship the ground i walk on?? wow, y/n, you were full of it back then, weren't you?"

you redden, out of words at this point, half-mad she was yapping and half-mad at yourself for actually having said all the shit she was yapping. yes, god knows you did say everything she was saying, and there was a blurry video on your phone proving it somewhere. rina'd known you wouldn't believe a word without proof, so she'd recorded it without you realizing.

jeonghan's looking at you when you look up from your lap and rina cuts in again, "but you can't be to blame, now, can you? your parents always treated you like a princess, and your brother basically acted like your bodyguard until you moved out… i'd be full of myself too if i grew up like that."

you inhale deeply as you glare at rina, slowly standing up, "um, i think we should go soon or we'll miss the movie. right, rina?" you force your words out so rina can recognize you're not kidding. 

"y/n, can i talk–"

"sorry," you cut jeonghan off, too, head reeling too hard to respond to anything that man's got to say to you, "i really have to rush but if it's something urgent, why don't you just leave a voicemail? i'll get to it on monday."

"ooooh, that was hot," rina whispers into your shoulder as the two of you pay the bill and head out. "god, did i love torturing the two of you in there. and honestly, serves him good–"

"what the fuck was that?"

"what the fuck was what? i was just showing that bastard what you actually deserve," rina snaps, eyes wide, "you might not remember what you're made of, y/n, but i do and i'm not gonna watch as you let that asshole use you. he can realize what your standards are or he can find someone else to fuck with. not my best friend."

"...rina," you stop in your tracks, rina's words finally starting to make sense in retrospect, "you're—"

"okay, please don't get emotional on me, i have a movie to catch and you know i can't focus if i'm tired."

– 

that very night, you come out of the shower to your phone blowing up, stifling a smile when you see jeonghan's name plastered over your notifications. after a thought to it, you pick up.

"what?" you take on your most indifferent tone.

"wow, that's cold," jeonghan's voice is clear this time. he's at home. "you can really be a stranger sometimes, baby."

"it's not hard, i just pretend i'm you at work," you tell him with a petty smile he can't see but most definitely hears because he immediately scoffs.

"listen, i didn't call to fight you, okay? i just want to talk. i–" he stops abruptly as if out of breath and then, softly, "i'm sorry."

that's a first. 

"i didn't quite catch that, mind repeating what exactly you're sorry for?"

you hear his sigh loud and clear, "y/n, let me make it up to you. i'm sorry i've been an asshole to you, especially at work. won't you come over?"

"no, i won't. i have some beauty sleep to catch up on."

"then, i'll come over. but please, let me in. and i don't mean into your place, i mean into your mind. i know you want a grandiose dream man but i can't read your mind just yet, so just let me… let me understand you better." after a beat of silence, he punctuates his words with a "please?"

"...you know where i live?"

"wasn't born yesterday, princess. give me 10 and i'll be there. make sure you're wearing clothes."

he hangs up on you and you barely have a moment to yourself to calm your intense hearbeat and equally chaotic thoughts after what jeonghan just said. i can't read your mind just yet. just yet? did he intend to??? intend to what, become to man of your dreams???? 

as much as you internally cringe at the thought, your cheeks are flushed when you let jeonghan that night, watching carefully as he took his shoes off, wearing a strangely casual grey hoodie and sweatpants. somehow you'd only ever seen him in his suit. or without it. 

he looks at you for a moment too long, and then his hand comes to carress your hair gently, "hmm, never seen you with your wet hair down."

"what do you want, jeonghan?" you cross your arms.

"you know sometimes i think i prefer you call me mr. yoon over jeonghan. you sound like you're going to kill me in my sleep when you say jeonghan."

"or i could just kick you out of my apartment. my landlord takes break-ins very seriously."

"alright, alright," jeonghan backs off, keeping his hands to himself, "can i at least have some water first? nervous to be all alone in your place with you."

you narrow your eyes at him and when he just shrugs, you gestures to the kitchen. "you can figure out how to pour yourself, can't you?"

"y/n, i–" he takes a gulp of the water, and then sighs, "i want to take you out. like a proper boyfriend."

"that's crazy because unfortunately, i don't have any time to be going out with anyone right now."

"if you're going to lie about your work committments, maybe don't do it to my face? our schedules are basically married so i know exactly when you're free."

"oh, i see what's happening," you throw yourself on your couch with a mirthless laugh, "you're blackmailing me into dating you, aren't you? don't worry i won't go around spilling the tea about your kinks in bed if you just leave me alone, mr. yoon."

"okay i lied, it's infinitely worse when you call me that. how about just calling your sweet angel, han, huh? no, okay? listen, y/n, i'm serious. i want to be more than your toxic boss who you have mindblowing sex with."

"you are–"

"i'm not saying this for any of the ulterior motives you're trying so hard to think of. believe it or not, i'm into you, y/n, and when you left me hanging for like three days straight, i couldn't stop thinking of you. and well, i did miss the sex, but what i missed more than anything was hanging out with you. spending time with you." 

"...what if i'm not into you like that?" you ask with a quirked brow, not quite satisfied with the case he was presenting. he stood still across from you at your kitchen counter, breathing shallow though you weren't certain why.

"that would be fair but i'm asking you to give us a chance because i know i've never had a connection with someone like i do with you. our stupid banter, your witty ways to save my life at work and outside before i can anticipate them, and of course, our amazing chemistry in bed– y/n, i never will find something like this again. and you can say i'm full of myself, but neither will you."

if you were slowly starting to doubt that it really was yoon jeonghan in front of you confessing his love to you, you don't anymore when he adds that last arrogant part in. "you're awfully confident for someone who was blowing my phone up an hour ago," you tell him, looking away, "but honestly, jeonghan, i'm getting old, okay? i don't think i have time to play your games anymore. i'm gonna find myself a decent man and settle—"

"you hearing yourself? you're gonna settle?" jeonghan's crosses over to you, sitting on your coffee table and before you can tell him off, he takes both of your hands in his with the tenderness of a man that you've never seen him capable of being. "i know i'm not the most promising prospect of a boyfriend, let alone a husband, but i'm willing to change. not even change, i'm just going to stop pretending to be a little bitch to you at work because honestly it was killing but i was doing it to protect myself from getting too attached to you. but it's too late. i'm down bad for you, y/n."

"and i may not be the decent man you're looking for, but i can assure i love you more than anyone on the market. because i know you like nobody else can, and i'm going to stick by you no matter what."

you take a breath and hold it just to test if you're dreaming but then jeonghan drops his head into your hand, letting your fingers into his soft hair. "just give me a chance, y/n. i'm… nothing without you." his voice is small now, his charming self who showed up to rooms full of busy people to give them a pitch of their life long gone. he was just a man right now, pleading you to let him in so you could both have a real shot at loving each other. 

you pull your hands out of jeonghan's clutch, watching his expression turn into one of panic but you silence him by bringing them to his face, gingerly guiding his eyes to yours. he blinks back, pure and solemn. "where was this guy when i was begging to be held for the past week?" you wonder, half to yourself, "and before you apologize, it's okay. i… haven't been a saint myself. it was unfair to not give you the short end of the stick when i'd given you the impression it was all good and fine until now."

"but you have to know how little i feel when you treat me without respect at work– not just because you're my boss, but because i care about what you think of me… as a person. i want to be with you, to love you. so if you can be real with me like this, i think we can make it work."

jeonghan kisses your hand softly, "i'm sorry. i– i will do better. and just to be sure, that was a yes?"

"yes."

"yes, you'll be my girlfriend, my one and only lover, the apple of my eye, the prettiest sight since the moon was revealed?"

"...yes. and flattery is not one the list of real qualties," you tell him despite the blush that colors you. 

"really? it's a good thing that i meant every single thing i just said then, isn't it?" he leans closer, breath hot against your already hot face. "can i kiss you then, love?"

the new nickname only makes you more dazed and you nod with a mewl, meeting jeonghan's lips halfway. he kisses you like he's never before — without a hint of urgency, like he could kiss you for the rest of his life and not regret a moment. he's slow and intentful, eyes fluttering and breath heavy, almost like his heart was wreaking as much of a havoc as yours was in your chest. 

you press a hand to his chest, reassured by the heat of beat that meets you, and he pulls away in surprise at your motion. jeonghan's flushed and speechless like he's never been, just watching you through his lashes, out of breath. 

you look down at his body, taking in his tall figure cramped in the little space between the two of you. his legs cage yours on either side, knees meeting your thighs, and his arms resting gently on your waist. it's like his body's swallowing you whole, and thought heats you up in a way that has you tearing up. 

when you hide your face in your hands out of the blue, jeonghan's large hands find yours, cooing them away. "what's wrong?"

"overwhelmed…" you tell him in a tiny voice, "i've– you never… you've never been so gentle with me. i feel like i'm going to break."

"that's ironic, isn't it," he asks softly but not mockingly. "you're so precious, i can't believe i haven't done this sooner. i guess i was always in such a hurry to feel your skin before time ran out… before it was too late… or something? either way, i'm here to stay now so let's take it slow."

"so you'll kiss me like that again?" you ask, looking at your intertwined hands. he squeezes back. 

"you liked that? let me see your lips again, i'm never not doing that again."

you giggle at his enthusiastic reaction, his lips already a breath away from yours, feeling your sounds in his whole being like he'd been starved. he kisses you again, not letting go till you pull away with a gasp. "god, i need air, han, you'll kill me at this rate."

jeonghan's too busy peppering your skin with more kisses, "good, you're back to calling me han. and as for needing air, we'll just have to do that a lot so you can build up a stamina."

—

"love it when you do that, god–" jeonghan's all over his own words, trying to get them out as soon fast as possible, "can you say it again? i'm gonna record it–" 

"han," you warn him in a stiff voice, "tell me you didn't just walk out of a meeting to come ask me to say– i'm not saying it, okay? so let go of my hand before seulgi comes back and you'll still have a reputation around here."

"no, you can't do this to me, babe," he's whining now and it'd be great for your ego if you couldn't see the room full of people waiting for him to get back so he could continue the meeting. "just tell me what you told rina about the dates i take you on and then i'll be out of your hair."

"first of all, you were never supposed to hear any of that," you push jeonghan away when he protests dangerously close to your face, "and second, if you want to have a girlfriend at the end of the day, you're gonna walk away from my desk and go back to your doing your job. okay, han? i can't do this now, let's talk at night."

"...fine. if you agree to sleep over at mine."

"done. now go."

"and you'll hold hands when we walk–"

"go."

he turns around obediently not before throwing a flying kiss in your direction and you truly have to wonder how he ever managed to act so uptight with you at work when he can be hopeless like this. 

"i'll have you know," he whines that night when you're coddling him in his bed, "that i'm that hopeless only because i'm head over heels for you. i love you, love, and i can't stop loving you, even if a bunch of suited assholes want to find ways to keep me apart from you."

"a bunch of suited assholes is your job description, angel," you laugh into his chest, "and god, you need to stop doing that at work. at least find a room if you want to be all up in my personal space, okay?"

"reserve a room just so we can make out? hmm, not a bad idea—"

"that is the exact opposite of what i was suggesting–"

"and yet here i am, with the great idea in my brain. noted, princess likes risky sex at work. thrill of getting caught? or is–"

"when did making out turn into risky sex?"

"you know i can never stop at just that once i've started," he says, kissing your forehead and you hit his face softly. "liar. big words from someone who refused to do anything but kiss me all night last night, and the night before that, and what about the time we went to dinner that time? oh, right, you didn't even kiss me."

"are you mad i'm being mindful of my pace?" jeonghan asks with a half smile, seriously concerned when you bring it up.

"no, i'm just shocked at the change up from when all you could think about was where and how we were gonna fuck."

"well, be assured that i still think about fucking you anywhere and everywhere at all times, but i'm more than that man now. i've got boyfriend worries now, 'kay? i want to savor every single thing we do, every date i take you on, and every small adorable thing you do. i'm not doing it the casual way. it's either all or nothing."

"you're scary when you're in love," you marvel with a sweet smile, "but full disclosure on my part, han, but i kind of need you to fuck my mind out because i'm literally dying here."

jeonghan goes still, pulling away to look at your face, amazed at the filth you could spawn with the purest smile on your lips. when he catches the glint of desperation in your eye though, he's switching control immediately, over to the jeonghan he'd managed to suppress so expertly to focus on treating you right. 

"damn it, you're gonna be the death of me, looking at me like that–" he's on top of you in a split second, his hair brushing the nape of your neck where he dives into your skin. "wasn't gonna ruin you again till i really had to, but fucking hell, woman, you know how to work a guy up."

"i can tell," you murmur, hands roaming all over his body, finding the hard bulge in his boxers all to familiar. "had to provoke you, y'know my fingers aren't enough."

jeonghan lets out an ungodly sound at your words, and you revel in the way he's coming undone, the way you've managed to push all the wrong buttons. to be fair, was it really wrong if it drove jeonghan to give you the best head he'd ever given you? 

when he rises from between your legs, you kiss him hard, tasting yourself on his tongue, and stealing his breath when you push him over so you could straddle him. "let me return the favor?" you lick your lips to really seal the deal.

"you–" he groans when you don't wait to pull his boner out of its restraints, smiling ever so demurely like he'd presented you with new clothes or a ticket to your favorite show. when you take a lick at his tip, he twitches, hands in your hair forcing you away from his dick. 

"--can't–" he's hardly comprehensible but he manages to get his request out, "can't take it for much longer. need to be inside you."

"thought you'd never ask, hannie," you gasp innocently and jeonghan swears he's already seeing stars from the nickname you only pull out on the verge of your orgasms. he's spewing all sorts of obscenities when you sheath him in your warm pussy, and you make sure you take in the sight before you. 

jeonghan's glittering with sweat, lips wonderfully swollen and eyes rolled back in his head with the height of pleasure he was feeling. he looked like an angel, even when he was so fucked out, chest deliciously hard against your touch and his voice contrastingly in its sweet chorus of your name. he was doing much of the work even though you were riding him, long fingers trailing from your boobs to clasp your waist so he could have perfect control of your body.

when he's close, he swallows a whine and you clench around him just to rip the sound out of his throat, the moan halfway between a scream and a song to your ears. that alone brings you close with jeonghan's thumb at your clit really bringing you to the edge. 

"come for me, hannie," you elicit another heavenly sound from him, "please, let me feel you inside me." 

"i'm coming, y/n, fuck!" he bites his own tongue and then gives up when you keep going, "fuck, fuck, fuck, i'm going to– fuckk–"

you both fall over with the wave of pleasure that hits your bodies, elevated ever more when each of you feels the others heat. it takes a minute of panting for you to feel your heartbeat in your chest and see jeonghan's limp body under yours. you roll over so your back can hit the cold sheets. 

you genuinely black out a little from the exhaustion because when you come to, jeonghan's between your legs with a warm towel cleaning you up. he looks up when you sit up with an unspeakable look in his eyes. he crawls over, voice hoarse as his lips meets yours. "i think you just changed my life, y/n, that was amazing."

"it was, i think i was on another planet for a hot minute there…" you say, oddly nervous with jeonghan's body touching yours as if you hadn't been all over each other a second ago. 

"you were… unbelievable. i've never been that gone before, y'know? you might've broken me… all that after i promised to be nothing but a gentleman to you." jeonghan sighs a little with a shake of his head.

"sorry, angel," you run a hand through his hair, feeling him relax under your touch, "i was pent up, what from fighting with you and then suddenly becoming all lovey dovey. for what it's worth, i think we just upped fucking game. and it's probably because we aren't lying to each other anymore."

"probably because you're all mine now," he says victoriosly, kissing your hand like he did the night he'd come to your place to beg you to take a shot at a life with him. you're so glad you did because you couldn't imagine another place where you'd feel this way, completely like yourself and nothing like yourself. 

"always have been," you assure him as you press a kiss to the back of his neck, throwing your hands around his shoulders. you liked to hug him to sleep, like you'd always yearned to every time you unwittingly fell asleep next to him. he shifts closer so your legs touch and you feel his lips graze your wrist lovingly, pressing kisses to the warm skin till you'd drifted into a deep sleep.

NOTE:

still not sane about that instagram update from jeonghan because those images of him have me feeling like this: 🤭🧍‍♀️😧🌀🥵😇🖐️🫦🙁 if you know what i mean. i will be crying about it for the next few days till i can think straight so that's that!

honest to god, somebody restrain me from writing and thinking about this man because i’m genuinely unwell about him. genuinely this is a cry for help. i told myself i wasn't going to write another jeonghan fic (see: the 50 wips i have waiting that involve not jeonghan) but here i am. speedwrote this in less than 2 days and took 2 hours to select the header icons and they still suck. self-indulgent content as always but anyway, i think i will die thinking about yoon jeonghan so here's my small contribution to anyone else who feels anything similar to me. i hope you enjoy and please i love hearing your thoughts so any reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[shotmrmiller]

ps!ghost is very interested, to put it mildly. can't seem to stop re-watching your debut video that was released a week ago. it's always the same premise. black leather couch casting. nice little bird in a modest dress or shirt and jeans who gets undressed because the "director" has to take in measurements and the like, only to end up getting railed from the back with their pretty face pressed into the cushion.

it's a thing male viewers like. they love to watch a professional break in the new girl. he, though, not so much. he doesn't go for the new girls. doesn't like to be the one to test the limit like others do. (big cock anal on their debut? ghost finds it a bit much.) he hears one tiny gasped ouch and he's not finishing the shoot.

no, what gets him going is the enjoyment one can get during sex. it's why he ended up in this business in the first place. he likes sex. a lot.

likes to have men, women, young and old alike writhing beneath him gasping his (stage) name due to the pleasure and not because a script said to. and the benefits of working in the porn industry means that he gets paid doing what he likes, and can stay safe while doing so.

this is where you come in. the only reason he'd sat down to watch your video at all is because you'd been given a contract by the same company he is under. he's bound to come across you at a later date, might as well learn what he'll be eventually working with.

and he's hooked. whatever initial nervousness you might've had at the very beginning (because this is your very first professional shoot, of course) bleeds from your shoulders once price, the lucky bloke, gets his hands on you. you're a bloody natural.

and you enjoy it. there's no faking the way your nails bite into price's scalp when he licks at your pussy through your thin knickers. you gently wrap your hand around his fingers that's rolling your hardened nipple, giving it a gentle squeeze. he's doing it too rough. you buck your hips into his face, riding it even though you're the one on your back.

ps!ghost has to swallow the mouthful of saliva when he notices strings of creamy white sticking to price's body hair, a frothy ring around the root. the best part of all of this, is that you're giving as good as you take. you're no passive participant. you could, under price's big bulk, just get folded in half and do nothing other than feel the sweet burn of his cock stretch you, turn you inside out.

but you don't. you know exactly what you like and how you like it. you look for your orgasm, make sure it happens under your manicured fingers or price's thick ones. you don't let him be too rough on you nor too gentle.

simon loves it. you're new to this. you could've just accepted what he gave you without so much as a peep of complaint and gone home to soak in an epsom salt bath. but you didn't. you didn't let him pinch your sensitive clit, didn't let him mindlessly claim a fistful of hair.

but you did open your pretty mouth so he could spit in it (fucking lovely, it was) and let him keep your soft hips in the air as john's pace turned frantic and the best of all (in his very biased opinion) you crossed your ankles around his waist to keep him there as he fucked you full of his come.

(had simon been there, he would've begged for a taste if he had to.)

he feels a bit desperate, after. can't get you out of his head. the thought of your slick pussy hot around his cock is what gets him to finish at times. the other times, it's your video. he swears he's found his equal (sorry, soap) one that'll forget that he's supposed to be putting on a show for the viewers.

sorry price, he's about to unfuck him out of your pussy until all it'll ever remember is simon.

(what he doesn't understand is that he's about to forget more than the viewers. why is price watching yall again? it's almost intimate the way you let him fuck you on a creaky mattress. he's drunk on the smell of you, your hair, your cunt. lost all thought when his fat cock slid with relative ease into your wet heat and all he'd done was let you make yourself come on his fingers and tongue as many times as you'd pleased. you'd latched onto his neck, maybe out of habit or whatever, it doesn't matter. he'll be telling the makeup artists to leave the bites you left. he earned every single one. and where he usually pulls out because it's easier to clean up for everyone? you'll not be wasting a single drop. it appears he has a lot bit of a breeding kink.)

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Hiiiii! So, I'm Arab and I was wondering is you could do a y/n x Mattheo riddle(cuz y/n is so badass) where they're fighting about the girls that go to Mattheo. y/n goes into Arabic and mattheo goes hard and then. . . you can determine what you want to do with it. BTW I LOVE UUUUU

ps can u make them in a secret relationship?

I LOVE UUUUU TOO AAAA THANK YOU! Sorry this took so long!

All Yours

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: Oral(female receiving), fingering, unprotected sec, cream pie, cussing.

18+ Minors DNI!

There he was again. Your secret boyfriend. Mattheo Riddle. Surrounded by girls at one of the Slytherin parties. There were quite a few reasons to keep your relationship secret. His father. Your parents. His friends. Even your friends. He didn’t want you to be used against him as a weakness either.

Whatever the reasons, you were still fuming about how he spoke with the girls. Granted, he never did touch them or reciprocate their flirtations. But he didn’t push them away either or reject them outright.

He spotted you across the room, locking eyes with you and giving you his wicked smile that normally made you melt. When he got met with your crossed arms and eye roll, he knew you were mad and the smile dropped.

He was able to get away from the girls, redirecting them to his friends before he slipped away. He was pulling you away from everyone, skirting around the party to avoid anyone’s attention as he pulled you up to his dorm.

He closed the door behind you two before speaking. “Alright. What’s wrong, sweet girl?”

“Don’t call me that.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest again.

He sighed. “Fine. What’s wrong?”

You weren’t sure what to say, trying to figure out how to phrase it. You weren’t exactly prepared for this confrontation.

“Is it the girls?” He asked, stepping closer.

“Of course it is!” You nearly yelled. How can he be so stupid?

“Come on, princess. You know I can’t do anything about it.” He tried speaking softly as he touched your arm.

All that did though was piss you off even more. You pulled your arm from him and started yelling. “Yes, you can! You can tell them to back off! You can tell them you’re not interested!”

“I can’t do that. It’ll be suspicious. I don’t want people catching on that I have a girlfriend.” He said, keeping his voice calm.

You knew what he meant. He meant he didn’t want people to find out so they can use you against him or harm you. But you were mad, so of course the words were falling from your mouth faster than you were even thinking. “Oh, it’s so bad to have a girlfriend now? I’m that embarrassing to you?”

“No-” He tried interjecting, but you cut him off.

You were slipping into Arabic without even realizing it. You were just yelling and he was staring at you, stunned. It was the first time he’d heard you speak Arabic, let alone yelling it.

You stopped yelling after a few moments, looking at him to respond. “What?”

“That was so hot.” He said and his mouth was on yours.

The anger that you had was turning into desire for him as you guided you two towards the bed, lips pressed together still as you took off what clothes you could without breaking the kiss. He pushed you back onto the bed once you reached it and helped you out of your clothes, wasting no time to sink between your thighs and start licking and sucking like a starved man.

“Keep going. Talk to me.” He said, pushing two fingers inside you.

It took you a moment to start talking, rambling something about how good it feels and whatever else came to mind. It’s not like he knew what you were saying anyways.

“Fucking hot.” He groaned before licking at your clit again.

You kept your rambling, only breaking with moans and whimpers. His name falling from your mouth every few sentences as he was desperately trying to make you fall apart on his tongue and fingers.

“That’s fucking it. You gonna cum, princess? I wanna see you cum on my fingers. Look so pretty screaming my name.” He said, staring up at you between your legs.

You couldn’t deny him what he was craving, nearly begging for. You were falling apart for him only moments later, tugging his hair, trembling, crying out his name.

He flipped you over after riding out your orgasm, gripping your hips to pull back towards him. He slowly eased the head of his dick in, groaning as you moaned.

“You’re fucking hot when you’re mad.” He said with a slight struggle as he kept pushing inside you.

“My yelling turns you on?” You asked, gripping at the sheets.

“More than it should, probably.” He started thrusting, no longer being gentle, he gripped your hips with bruising force and fucking you fast and deep. “You can keep going if you’d like. Or would you rather scream my name?” He asked, leaning over to grab your hair, lifting your head from the bed.

“Fuck, Mattheo! I-fuck!” You cried out, finding it difficult to think with his cock hitting so deep inside you.

“Guess that’s my answer, huh?” He teased.

“Shut up!” You tried for an irritated tone, but it was hardly even halfhearted.

“Oh, but you love when I talk to you like this. Can feel how wet you get, love.” He leaned down so his chest was pressing against your back. 

He was fucking into you so deep, he moved his hand from your hair to rub at your clit, making you whimper from how sensitive it was.

“Maybe you just needed to be reminded that I’m all yours in another way to get rid of that anger, hm?” He mused, pressing kisses along your upper back. “Fucking clenching me, princess, you gonna cum again already?”

All you could do was nod in response, your voice occupied with moaning and crying out with his thrusts.

“That’s it. Be a good girl then and cum for me.” He said softly. “Cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

And you were trembling again, crying out his name and you gripped at the sheets.

He cursed as he came from the feeling of your pussy trying to milk him, filling you with his cum.

“I’m all yours, sweet girl. You’re all mine, too.” He said reassuringly as he pressed kisses where he could reach as your body relaxed.

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | end up here

a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.

iv. end up here by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you. 

luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up. 

anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name. 

luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.” 

“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.” 

“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face. 

“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan. 

“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.” 

you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore. 

as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though. 

when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said. 

“five star, 

i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was. 

ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations. 

luke :)” 

the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine. 

and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else. 

you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.

after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though. 

you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?” 

“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?” 

“well, i did help organize it.” 

“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?” 

“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.” 

“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.” 

“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.” 

“are you cold?” 

your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.” 

luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.” 

“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”

always so stubborn, luke thought.  

“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?” 

“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.” 

luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof. 

when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message. 

he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him. 

he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom. 

“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.” 

“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.” 

“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.” 

“did you write it?” 

luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.” 

“you need to stop doing that.”

he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?” 

“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.” 

“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.” 

“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?” 

you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte. 

luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”

you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole. 

you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills. 

he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”

you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel. 

you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.” 

“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him. 

“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.” 

“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours. 

“18.” 

“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.” 

you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?” 

“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.” 

there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy. 

he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it. 

you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck. 

he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.” 

you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.” 

the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later. 

–

“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!” 

the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights. 

then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air. 

luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.” 

he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic. 

“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.” 

“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!” 

connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles. 

luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!” 

you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play. 

“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.” 

you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you. 

the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed. 

you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line. 

but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this. 

“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 22 - Anal Fisting]

Pairing: Good Boy!Jungkook x Mistress!Reader

Genre: married life!AU

Kinks: male anal, anal toys which get bigger, praise kink, gear (jockstrap & chest harness), anal fingering, rimjob, anal fisting (both with her stretched hand and her fist), he is such an anal king tbfh, impact play (he asks her to spank his chest), lots of kisses and gentle touches, he takes the fist in doggy first then in mating press, belly bulging, a very messy lube enema with fake cum lube, he has a huge breeding kink so he is in heaven, he is gaping & leaking sooo much once she is done with him, cuddly and caring aftercare

Wordcount: 5.3k

a/n: two people wanted ogc!kook to get fisted and i knew that i had to fulfill their wishes. one of them even specifically stated a lube enema and i lost my mind a little ps: please give me feedback on my stories, thank you besties 🖤

The thing about your marriage is that it will never ever get boring. If you and Jungkook aren’t finding new things to try out on dates or new places to explore on your bikes or new foods to try in the kitchen, you are trying out new things in the bedroom. Married life together never ever gets boring. Of course it gets mundane at times, but even that is exciting because you can be mundane together. Of course it also gets stressful at times, but it never really lasts because you have each other to rely on. And when you and he fight, it only last a few hours at most. Married life together is exciting, it is familiar and strong and it is home. 

Tonight however it is nothing but exciting. Very exciting as a matter of fact because Jungkook suggested trying something new in the bedroom. 

Anal fisting. 

What a sinful and delicious request to make. When he dropped it during dinner last night, you almost choked on your pasta. You knew that Jungkook really enjoyed anal sex, but never expected him to have such an adventurous request. He seemed determined however and you weren’t one to break his dreams. 

Now fast forward to tonight. You and he haven’t had dinner yet because anal sex after food never ends well. Jungkook has cleaned out already and put on pretty gear. He wants to feel sexy when you take this first from him. He decided to go for black cotton jockstraps and a chest harness made of leather, matching thigh holsters to it. He looks to die for, but also a little adorable because he decided to wear knee high socks as well. Knee-high toe socks, that is, because he can’t handle normal socks. Truly, you couldn’t be any more obsessed with this man. He is so perfect in every way.

He currently has said toe socks wearing legs wrapped around your middle as you make out with him heavily. He is on his back, hole already stuffed with a plug and lips puffy from your kisses. You want to work him up to the biggest toy and then try your fist. You and Jungkook talked about how you would do it and he decided on working himself up to your fist. It always turns him on a lot when you stretch him out slowly to whatever toy you want to ruin him with. Tonight it feels especially arousing because it will end in having your fist inside his hole. He wonders how it will feel. 

Up until very soon, the most Jungkook had inside were four of your fingers and that felt really fucking good. He also knows that he can handle a girthy ten inch dildo (the night you bred him as he was wearing fishnets is still haunting him from time to time. It was so sexy to him). Size and length shouldn’t be an issue to him. He is still really nervous, in a good way of course. Nervous and excited and so turned on. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this”, he breaks the kiss, breathing heavily as he gazes up at you.

“Mhm me neither”, you kiss a path to his neck. You can’t get enough of tasting him. You need to have every inch of him, leaving visible marks wherever you suck too passionately. 

Jungkook doesn’t mind, barely getting his words out. It feels so good to him. So good. 

“I’m so nervous.”

“Nervous? No puppy, don’t be. I’ll make it feel so good. Make you so relaxed and stretched out that it’s gonna be so easy to take me.” 

Jungkook sighs and arches his back, chasing the kisses you trail down his collarbones and sternum.

“And you can stop this at any time. Yeah? There's no need to be nervous, puppy.”

You linger on his pecs, marking them with hickeys and bite marks. Jungkook feels electric with each mark you place on his body. 

“Mistress, bigger please”, he begs. He needs it, feeling horny beyond recovery.

“Yes? Bigger?” you ask, letting your whisper swirl over his pecs.

“Yes, please.”

This will be the third plug he is wearing tonight. The first one, and smallest, he wore a little after cleaning out. He managed to keep it inside for one heavy make out session on the couch and then got too needy to handle it any longer. He begged for the second toy and you happily obliged. You made him bend over the coffee table, eating him out for a little while just so you could hear him sob for an orgasm you wouldn’t grant him yet.

And how he sobbed. Jungkook is such an easy crier. Especially when it comes to sex and how good you make him feel. You just have to help him fall into the right subspace and he is basically a fountain of tears. It is so hot to witness and he spilled tears as you filled him with the second toy.

You and he ended up in a make out session again, this time around on your bed which leads this story to the current moment.

You replace the second plug with the third in his hole, massaging his inner thighs once it is inside.

“How is that? The jump’s rather intense from the second toy, isn’t it?”

“It’s so good. Please kiss me again, please.”

“Gladly.”

You place yourself over him and fall back into what you have been doing for hours. Kissing, touching, sharing moans and warmth. You might have climaxed on his thigh already. You often end up doing so when you and he make out. It is just too good to be with him like this. You actively make sure that Jungkook won’t be able to climax. He has to stay on edge and needy, only like this, will he be able to take your fist without pain.

And he seems very needy tonight. Only ten minutes into the hungry kissing and he is begging for the fourth toy. Doing so with the prettiest puppy eyes known to womankind.

“Are you sure, baby? It’s really big.”

“Yes, so sure. Please.” 

“Fine, but I’ll go slow.” 

You sit up and prepare the next toy. It isn’t a plug per say, but more of a dildo. Purple in colour and with very realistic balls at the base of it. They even wiggle, slapping him whenever you drill him stupid with the toy. Jungkook really fucking loves it and he can’t wait to take it tonight. 

He struggles only a little, looking at you as you fill him. You meet his glassy eyes.

“Does it hurt?” 

“Only a little.”

“Do you want a break?”

He shakes his head, “can you…please can you slap my chest for a little?” 

“Slap your chest?” you ask in a chuckle.

He makes puppy eyes at you, “yes, please”, he whispers. 

“How can I refuse when you’re making such cute puppy eyes at me. Fine, just tell me once you had enough”, you say and shimmy to his chest. 

Jungkook is breathing heavily, looking up at you. You roll your wrist a few times, wiggling your fingers next to warm them up. 

Slap.

He gasps and flinches into the sensation, furrowing his brows. 

Slap.

“A-ah”, he lets out, widening his eyes submissively. 

“Such a pretty chest to slap. So strong and masculine. Mhm, so handsome”, you praise, supporting your sweet words with two spanks on each of his pecs. 

Jungkook whimpers under his breath, biting down on his lower lip. It moves his lip piercings and makes his skin so pink.

Slap. Slap. Slap. 

He flinches with each impact, having to roll his head to the side at the end.

Slap.

He squeezes his eyes shut, letting out a soft sob. He looks to be in pleasurable agony. You want to give him more and you do. You connect your palm with his chest, making sure to strike his pierced nipples. 

“Mistress”, he keens, arching his back and moving his hips up. He tenses up, “wait, the toy is slipping out.” 

“Mhm, that’s not good.” 

You reach between his legs to fix it. You can’t deny yourself the joy of pumping it into him for a little. There is no resistance, making Jungkook wail up in surprise.

His legs shake, his stomach tenses. He reaches down and grabs your wrists.

“Stop please, stop.” 

“Mhm, no. Take me, puppy. Go on and take me.”

“Please”, he arches his back, grabbing the sheets with his toes as he curls them. “I’m gonna cum, please.”

“Fuck, you’re so perfect”, you rasp, pulling out the toy. His hole gapes, complaining about the emptiness audibly. 

You chuckle, leaning down to kiss his knee. You run your fingertips up and down his inner thighs, gazing at his face.

“Someone’s hole is eager to be stuffed again”, you tease and kiss a path up his torso, moving your tongue on him as you go.

“Eager. Yeah. Eager.” He nods his head vigorously and peels his eyes open one by one. “More please.” 

“More? You promise not to cum?”

“Promise”, he squeaks out cutely.

“Mhm, fine. Everything you want”, you purr and sit up to prepare the fifth toy for the evening. 

It is a huge butt plug with a big flared base. The thing most special about it, was the hole in it, allowing you access into his hole even when it was stuffed. Some nights, you like to work him up to this toy and then use it for the rest of the session. You like to insert a strong bullet vibrator in him and sometimes you fuck a small dildo into it. Jungkook always ends up screaming in pleasure from how good it feels.

You stare deep into his eyes as you push the huge tunnel plug into his hole.

He gasps and bites his lip, lifting the inner corners of his brow in a submissive way. 

“Slipped right in. It’s like your little hole just waited to be stuffed again”, you tease, giving him a glimpse of paradise by shoving two of your fingers into the tunnel to tickle his walls like this.

Jungkook’s body reacts in an uncontrollable tremor, knocking a broken “o-oh my go-od” out of him. 

“You know which toy is currently inside, don’t you?” 

“Ye-es”, his voice shakes as the tremors can’t stop. 

“I remember the last time I used it. If I remember correctly, I bred you like a slut and then watched it run out of you just because you couldn’t keep your hole closed.”

“Please”, he mewls through gritted teeth, tensing his neck as he throws his head back, “kiss me, I’m begging you.”

“Very gladly”, you purr and pull your teasing fingers out his stretched open hole, leaving it to throb and clench around the silicone tunnel. But no matter how hard it will clench, it won’t change anything. It is destined to be stretched more and more.

You lie down to fulfill his whimpered wish, holding him against you as you kiss and touch. And Jungkook feels in heaven. He is going to repeat himself, but there is no place he would rather be right now than here with you.

Jungkook loves being your husband. Not only because you are the love of his life, his best friend, his soulmate and the woman of his dreams, but also because you make him feel things he doesn’t feel with anyone else. He can be your strong, dominant and protective man and one moment later, feel so small and submissive and cute. And it doesn’t make him feel weird or insecure, just really safe and fulfilled and happy. Also very horny. Oh holy moly, he is so horny tonight. 

He breaks the kiss sooner than later, begging you in a slightly pitched voice.

“Can we try the fist now?” 

“Already?”

“Yes, I think. I can’t do the tunnel anymore. I-I can’t think of anything else than your fist. Please?”

“Shit, this just made my stomach tingle.” You kiss the slope of his nose. “Whatever you want, sweetie.” 

“I want your fist then, please. O-otherwise I’ll cum from something else.”

You laugh softly. Jungkook reciprocates, gazing at you. He feels so happy right now. Happy and safe. There is no place or moment on earth he would rather be in than this right now. 

“You’re so adorable”, you say with a kiss to his forehead. 

Afterwards, you sit back, studying him. He looks so handsome in his clothes. He is so hard by now that the tip of his cock peeks out of the hem of the jockstraps. His chest and nipples are still red from the spanking. His cheeks match in colour, glistening slightly in a layer of submissive tears and sweat of pleasure.

“Kneel for me.”

Jungkook obeys, changing into the position with wobbly knees. He even folds his hands on his lap, looking at you with the goodest puppy eyes. He can feel the tunnel plug press on his heel like this, wiggling his hips slightly to grind down on it. 

You smile and cup his cheek, stealing a necessary kiss. Jungkook leans into it, eyes closed and body tingly in reaction. He feels so droopy and so safe.

“You’re such a good boy”, you praise him, sitting back afterwards, “now, there is a reason why I want you to kneel. I want you to watch as I prepare something really nice for you.”

“Something nice?” he asks, voice slightly croaky and so breathy.

“Yes, something very nice. It’s a surprise, but it’s nice. If you disagree, just stop me at any time.”

“Okay”, he says, nodding his head obediently.

You crawl off the bed and hurry to where you stored the surprise, hiding it behind your back until you sit before him again. Then you finally reveal it, watching in delight how his breath hitches in his throat. You got a huge syringe and the fake cum lube you own. The syringe is obviously without a needle and has a thicker tip for inserting it into his hole. The tip is textured, made to pleasure.

“Tada. What do you think?”

He nods his head vigorously, whispering a tiny “please.”

“Do you know what I’ll do with it?” 

“Yes.”

“Tell me, sweetie. I can’t read your mind.”

“Oh god, you are, are gonna give me a lu-lube enema”, he gets out, biting down on his lower lip.

“A hundred points to my cutie. And you want this?”

“Please, so much.”

“I knew you would like it. Now tell me a number between five and fifty.”

“Oh. Uhm, uh. Thirty six?”

“Perfect. You’re gonna get one dose of thirty six”, you say and open the lube. You stick the tip into it and pull.

“No please, more than that, please”, he begs, squirming desperately now that he realised what you asked of him. You wanted to know how much lube he wants up his ass.

“More? Like this?”

“No, please more.”

“Even more?” You chuckle and go up to fifty. “You’re so greedy.”

“More”, he whispers, “all of it.”

“The entire syringe?”

He nods his head, squeezing his legs together, “please.”

“Fuck Kook, that’s so hot.”

Jungkook gulps, watching the translucent tube fill up with the white lube. It will feel so good inside, make his tummy just a little bloated. He will be a mess afterwards, not being able to stop leaking for hours to come. Especially considering you are going to fist his hole lose. He can’t wait. He loves nothing more than feeling the effects of sex even hours after finishing. You also have nowhere to be afterwards which means he can take all the time in the world to recover.

You lift the now filled syringe and tap its tip, watching with him together as you press out a few droplets.

“Ready?” you ask him.

“Yes”, he croaks, squirming impatiently, “please” leaves him automatically.

“Then get on all fours for me, yes? Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Mistress. I, I can.”

He falls to his elbows and sticks up his butt, arching his back. Like this, he is facing the foot end of the bed.

“Look at you.” You talk to him as you crawl to his backside. “You’re so obedient, so pretty. Such a good boy, aren’t you?”

Jungkook mewls softly, following the touch you place along his body as you circle him. It started off on his shoulder, danced along his back and side and ends on his butt. You rest your hand atop his buttock, thumb drawing soothing circles into his heated skin.

“You’re so pretty like this, my sweetie. Take a deep breath for me, okay?”

Jungkook obeys, fingers closing around the sheets as you begin tugging out the plug. His hole struggles for a little, having gotten used to it and therefore having tightened around it just a little.

“And breathe out, baby.”

He breathes out. The toy leaves his hole, forcing him to twitch in surprise and for his hole to leak. Blop. And it’s completely out.

“A-ah woah”, he gets out, struggling to stay on his knees.

“Hurts?”

“No, just intense. Sorry, felt dizzy for a moment.”

“Don’t apologise, sweetie. Tonight’s about you, yeah? It’ll last for as long as you want it to, yes?”

“Please”, he sticks his butt closer to you, “please, more.”

“Mhhm, okay”, you coo, tracing his loose rim with the tip of the syringe.

His breath quickens, his thoughts blur. All he can concentrate on now is his nearest future. One little push and you slipped inside. Jungkook barely feels it in comparison to the huge plug he had inside before that. He still moans as if it was the best thing entering his ass tonight, solely because he knows what it will bring. Sticky, creamed insights.

It doesn’t come instantly, of course it doesn’t because you want to rile him up. Instead, you lean down to place kisses on his tailbone and pretty back dimples. 

“Are you ready to get my cum?” you taunt him, knowing that nothing gets him off more than getting creampied by you. Even if it is just fake, it isn’t to him. It is real.

“Please oh god, please”, he begs, close to tears and shaking.

“Mine”, you growl playfully, pushing down on the syringe to give him the thickest and hottest lube enema ever.

Jungkook sobs, burying his face in the sheets and fucking back on the syringe. His hole is so open in fact that he manages to slip the syringe inside to the very end, tube and everything. If you weren’t clutching its end with such vigour, his greedy hole would have taken the entire syringe.

“Holy fuck, careful”, you gasp, pulling it out quickly, “you’re gonna swallow it whole, you needy puppy you.”

“Please Mistress, please fist me. Please”, he is delirious in need. The lube enema did the rest, having stolen the last grain of sanity from him. All he needs is more of you. Girthier, bigger, deeper. Anything. Please.

“Yeah? You want it?”

“So much, please.”

“Fuck. Fine. Oh god, I’m nervous. You have to tell me if I go too far.”

“I trust you. Please, just need you.”

You cover your hand in some lube as well, picking up the mess he is already leaking. It is so creamy and thick, sticking between your fingers in strings. How fucking sinful to look at.

You circle his hole three times then slip in three of your fingers.

“More”, he instantly begs, pushing his ass back.

You slip in your pinky finger as well, keeping your thumb outside for now.

“That’s as many as you managed to take in the past, baby. How is it for you?”

“I, I want more”, he confesses and laughs breathily, “___, I want more.”

“Yes? Oh god, this is so exciting. I’m slipping in, yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

You let your thumb disappear inside him as well, watching him for any signs of discomfort. When all you can see is impatience and the readiness to take more, you push. Deeper and deeper your fingers slip. Jungkook breathes deeply and quickly at the same time, clearly trying to help himself get through the unfamiliar situation.

“How is it for you?”

“Intense. But good. Really good.”

With his encouragement, you give it another push. The thickest part is coming up. Your knuckles. They are just a little bigger in girth than the biggest plug was. You go slower for his sake. He is panting, but seems comfortable. One more push. Your knuckles slip inside, forcing a deep groan out of him.

“Are you good? We did it. Are you good?”

“So good, what the fuck. Urgh”, he gets out and pushes back, helping more of your hand inside. You meet his movements, burying yourself inside him until his rim sits around your wrists. “Wait. Pause.”

“Should I pull out?”

“No, just…..holy fuck I’m taking your fist.”

“I know, it’s so sexy. You have no idea how hot this looks.”

“No, I do”, he says and mewls, following it up with a laugh, “baby, this is insane. Oh god.”

“It is. I’ll pull out, yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

You pull out slowly. You struggle a little around your knuckles, rubbing his buttocks to make it easier for him. One more pull and his ass releases your entire hand in one go.

Jungkook yelps up, falling to his stomach.

“Holy fuck, are you okay?!”

“I, I don’t know. Oh god, is my asshole okay?”

“I don’t know, let me look. Oh god, Kook.”

“What?”

“It’s okay, just really fucking lose. Holy shit, you’re gaping like crazy. How did it feel?”

“Like you were taking my insides out. It was so intense, but good. Please again, please.”

“Yes, okay. So hot, Kook, so hot.”

You slip your hand inside completely and pull it out again. Jungkook moans from the bottom of his soul, flinching on the sheets.

“Intense, holy fuck so intense. More.”

You curse, fulfilling his wish gladly. In and out. He is still struggling so much, but moans each time you do it. Quite frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You black out on nothing but him, the sensations and how good all of it feels.

Slipping inside is familiar until you reach your knuckles and dig into depths you have never felt around your hand before. Being inside him is unlike anything you ever felt. He is warm and tight and insanely wet from the lube enema. His rim throbs and pulsates around your wrist and his walls convulse around you each time he tenses his stomach. And pulling out, oh pulling out, you feel each inch your hand graces and once you push past his struggles, it is gone within a second. Only the cold air of the room remains and Jungkook’s ruined moans.

He gets loser and loser each time you pull out, leaking more and more of the white lube. You try to pick up as much as you can, burying it back in him with your fist.

Back in again. Linger for a little and pull out.

“Wait. Stay. Please stay inside.”

“Whatever you need, baby. Does it feel good to you?”

“So good. I can’t believe how good it feels. Sorry, I don’t talk much.”

“That’s okay, baby. Just enjoy yourself. Should I move it a little?”

“Yes, please.”

You twist your fist in him, moving it back and forth in minimal movements.

Jungkook lets out a mixture of a groan and a squeak. It is the most peculiar sound he ever made, but it is honest, motivating you to keep doing what you are doing. Jungkook gifts you with more of his sweet noises, twisting the sheets and soaking them with his tears as he cries in pleasure. He is also drooling and leaking from his cock. Quite frankly, you have him messying the sheets with anything that can messy them. He is so wet for you, so open and devoted.

He never felt more yours than he does right now with your fist deep in his ass, claiming and pounding him. How he will ever close up again is a mystery to him, which he doesn’t want to solve yet.

“___ Mistress?” he lulls weakly. You ruined him by now, allowing him to float far away on a warm cloud of pleasure.

“Yes, baby?”

“Out and in again please.”

“As you wish.”

You pick up a slow and steady rhythm, giving him more time when you pull out and less time when you push back inside. He is moaning and drooling happily, voice picking up in pitch each time you decide to twist your fist inside him. And soon, oh so very soon, he manages the pulling out so easily that there is no resistance.

“Holy fuck, Kook. You’re taking me so easily.”

“Close your fist please and try it like this.”

“I swear to god, if you manage to do this, I’m losing my mind.”

You push your closed fist against his hole. One second of struggle and it slips inside within a second.

Jungkook yelps up, you scream with him. He shudders in the aftershocks then instantly lifts his hips off the sheets to fuck himself on your fist.

“I can’t do this”, you croak, “this is too hot, oh god.”

Jungkook can’t talk to you. He is lost to the bliss. This is so intense and feels so pleasurable. He was never as aware of the state of his hole than he is right now. He has your fist inside. Round and big, ending in the smaller and smoother part of your arm. Can he lose control over himself because of sex? Because right now, his body moves against his will as he fucks himself stupid on your fist and arm. He doesn’t know how deep he is fucking you until he suddenly feels you in his intestines in a slight pinch. Like a stomach cramp wanting to crawl up on him.

He drops into the sheets in shock, birthing your fist against his will. He sobs, kicking the mattress.

“Does it feel that good?”

“So intense, I can’t”, he wails.

“Do you want more?”

“Wait, please. Wait.”

“I’m already stopping”, you gasp, keeping your hand on his buttocks for now.

“Oh fuck, wait”, he flips to his back.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No, just. Holy fuck”, he gets out. He lifts his legs, twisting his fingers on the thigh holsters hold himself open for you. “Please back like this, please.”

You moan, nodding your head. You look into his eyes as you push your fist back into his hole, leaking into the sheets at the utter ecstasy in his gaze.

“Does it feel good?”

“So good”, he whimpers, dragging his teeth over his lower lip in a needy bite. Only now, you notice how slick from his drool they already are and how much he seemed to have cried. His red cheeks are covered in his tears. His nose and temples are glistening in them as well.

“I’m going insane, Kook. This is so hot. You’re so warm around me”, you confess in a raspy voice, twisting your fist inside him.

“Fuuuck”, he drags out the word, squeezing his eyes shut and dropping his head. He huffs out air, lifting his head again afterwards, “upwards, please, upwards. I need to test something.”

You do as he asks of you, using your wrist to move your fist in a circular upwards motion. You and Jungkook moan together at what this does to him. The shape of your fist comes out of his stomach, making it bulge where you move. You can count each knuckle and see how they shape his insides.

“Jungkook, holy fuck.”

“___”, he whimpers, clenching around you.

You pull out and push your stretched out hand back inside, reaching deeper this way. You curl your fingers upwards. They appear one by one on his stomach, making him bulge.

“It’s like I’m fucking alive inside you, Kookie baby”, you lull your words, feeling just a little dizzy. You take his hand and press it to his stomach, wiggling your fingers inside him. “we can almost hold hands like this, puppy boy.”

“I’m cumming”, he squeaks out.

“Yes?”

“Please, it’s too much”, he begs, crying snotty tears.

“Let go, it’s okay”, you allow him, twisting your hand and curling it to make sure it hits his prostate. “Feel yourself cum on my fist, such a good boy.”

“___!”

Jungkook sobs miserably, losing control over his body as you bring him over the edge. It feels like nothing he has ever experienced. Of course you made him climax with his ass before. Too many times to count actually and each time felt like heaven. But this is so different, it is so much deeper, so much more electric and so much more unbearable that Jungkook swears he might come out a different person.

“I can’t stop! Please make it stop! Ah! ___!” he wails as he shakes like he has never done before. 

“Oh god, Kookie. Oh fuck, my puppy. This is so hot”, you babble, feeling delirious. You have never witnessed him so enslaved by his orgasm before and it is the best thing you ever saw.

Once overstimulation sets in, he needs you out of him instantly. Which isn’t like him at all and yet another proof of how intense he orgasmed right now.

“It hurts, please stop. Hurts a lot.”

“Breathe, I’m slipping out.”

His hole releases your fist audibly, staying open for a few seconds afterwards. Way too much lube gushes out of him, soaking the sheets.

“Holy fuck”, Jungkook croaks, throwing his hands over his face to rub it in disbelief. 

You wipe your hand on the sex towel, then lie yourself next to him. You drape your arm over his waist, kissing his face as best as possible.

“Good job, babyboy. Such a good job. I’m so proud of you.” 

“Oh god”, he whimpers and rolls to his side to hide away in your chest, curling up as small as possible. 

You hug him, soothing him with gentle touches.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m here for you, baby. You’re not alone.”

“Oh god, ___”, he croaks, shuddering.

“Just breathe for me, baby. Breathe.”

Jungkook obeys, calming down this way. He uncurls himself once he feels ready, hugging you tightly. You hold him just as strongly, tracing his spine.

“Did you like it?”

“So much. I liked it so much. Thank you, I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetie. So much.”

He snuggles closer, shivering slightly. You wrap him up in your arms, hoping that it is enough to keep him warm. 

“Was I too rough to you?”

“No, you were perfect. Just…feeling a lot right now.”

“I understand, then I’ll hold you till you’re feeling better again.”

“I feel happy. I love you”, he gets out in a breathy whisper. “wan…sleep…”

“Sleep if you need to, I’m right here. And I’ll clean you and wrap you in cozy blankets and then I’ll cook you dinner while you rest. How does that sound, babyboy?”

“___, I love you”, he gets out before sleepy breaths replace his voice. 

You smile, kissing the shell of his pierced ear. You know that you did something right when Jungkook needs a nap right after sex. He always gets like this when you made him feel insanely good.

“I love you too, Jungkook my love”, you whisper and close your eyes to relax with him. 

You will clean the toys and yourself a little later and then make dinner, but for now you want to hold him as he slumbers safely.

[meanbossart]

How did your DU drow react when he got told he had to kill his spouse? and then when he went to wake up Astarion and get tied up? I think I just wanna know how your DU drow mentally/emotionally is doing during and after that part, and when talking to Astarion afterward, I'm a sucker for hearing about those deep kinds of moments (hopefully that makes sense?) Also, how did your DU react when you met Kressa Bonedaughter and learned all about what was done to him (again, I know none of the companions really comment on literally something horrible being told such a shame, honestly) but how would you say or think that Astarion and Shadowheart might have reacted hearing that info? Again, thank you for all your art and for answering these questions! PS: (I really don't care if your answer is super long; I WILL EAT IT UP)

Sooo for the first question, I wanna preface by saying that I personally don't think their relationship was that in depth yet, at that point. Yes, DU drow enjoyed Astarion's company and relied on him in a similar way which he relied on Shadowheart. And also yes, Astarion saw DU drow as the first person who ever took him and his agency seriously - but I think feelings were still in their infancy. DU drow's mind was a mess through and through; he drank constantly to keep his urge at bay, he kept his distance from everyone most of the time, and when he did seek out comfort in either Shadowheart or Astarion (the non-sexual kind, they didn't really fuck at all), it was a kind of primal instinct and desperate longing for companionship - if you asked him if he was in love with anyone, however, he would have said no.

Similarly, while I think Astarion's act 2 confession is sincere, I also think that he's being sincere when he says that he doesn't know what you are yet. You're not really a lover, but you aren't a victim, either; what you are is a person who he would rather not have to murder eventually, and as someone who has had their empathy squeezed out throughout the course of two centuries, that's meaningful enough. He may fantasize about the best case scenario for you two - but he has no expectations that whatever this is will last. But it is nice, for the time being.

So the "murder your darling" scene, rather than a proof of love and trust, is to me the turning point where:

A) DU drow has to come to terms with the fact that he doesn't have as much control over the Urge as he thought, and B) When Astarion snaps out of his care-free, just-go-with-the-flow nature around his plan and this relationship. They both realize they bit off more than they could chew and are now caught in each other's crossfire.

Which is to say that I don't read Astarion's words of comfort to him as entirely honest - specially when you compare it to certain dialogue deliveries later in the game. I think he's still, to a degree, telling you what you need to hear so that you hold out for just a bit longer and kill Cazador. You probably can't be together forever as he idly fantasized about once or twice, when he let his mind wander - but god damn it, he needs to at least be free, and it seems like you have bloodlust to spare to make that happen.

Meanwhile, DU drow finally comes to confront the fact that he is not in control. Doesn't matter how hard he tries or how much he drinks, the urge will do to him as it will, and when it wishes. It stops being fun and it gets scary, from that moment on.

But here's who did stop it: Astarion. Where alcohol fell short and his willpower failed, Astarion stepped in.

So, more interesting than the scene itself to me, is how from that point on DU drow would have no choice but put his trust entirely on the vampire to control him. He ties him up, he keeps an eye on him, he has full spoken-word permission to kill him if necessary - he is forced to be as vulnerable at humanly possible under his hand, every night. Regardless of whether or not DU drow realizes that Astarion is doing it for his own reasons, he doesnt care, because Astarion has now become his rock and his bondage - hell, if Astarion does have a reason to keep him alive that's all the better; someone else might just slit DU drow's throat and be done with the concern altogether.

And so, it's only from that point on that DU drow truly starts to see Astarion as an equal, and even a partner. He's thinking that, if his whole life has to be like this, at least he has someone who can handle it.

Astarion, meanwhile, I believe only comes to truly consider (and wish for) DU drow's freedom after he's free from Cazador - and after he bestows that freedom upon his siblings and the other spawn. That's when he finally understands the length of DU drow's devotion to him and the value of freewill as a concept- and how he wants it for both of them, instead of being content with his own.

Not to mention... I think in Astarion's mind he was 100% not going to survive Cazador LOL so when he succeeds he's like "oh shit I guess anything is fucking possible huh. Yeah fuck it lets go fight your dad, also I've decided I want you for realsies, now."

Anyways, can you believe I thought this was gonna be a short ask. Here have a doodle I made while thinking about all this bullshit:

As for Kressa, I got an ask about that before but I can't find it now LOL to summarize; he was pissed, angered, and in a far more personal level embarrassed to have had his dirty laundry aired (AKA, victimized) in that way in front of the others - but this isn't something he would have expressed outwardly, and I think both Shadowheart and Astarion would have known better than to inquire him about it. It's not really something he would have sought out comfort for in anyone, so, I think the subject died as soon as Kressa did. In this case, their lack of commentary was completely appropriate - If they had reached out in any way (which would have been, in my opinion, completely out of character) DU drow would have shut them out with a quickness.

[zeltqz]

hop on

pairing. bf!eren x fem!reader

word count. 1.9k

summary. you ask eren to use his controller to play a game with your friend, but he lets his jealousy get the better of him when he finds out you're playing with another boy.

tags. videogames, oral (f), exhibitionism (connie and jean are on the phone when it happens), jealous!eren

authors note. the video game trope is cool but i wanted to switch it up and make the reader the one playing the video game now 😁😎

taglist. @meuw02 @foreshadxw @neptunes1nterweb @mishueb @yourrfavzxri @

“What’re you plotting?” Eren asks as you slide yourself into his lap, nuzzling your head into his neck. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head as you sigh dramatically.

“I’m not plotting anything… can I not show you affection?” Eren can practically hear the pout in your voice.

“I mean, you can. It’s just suspicious.” He gently grabs your face, bringing it out of his neck and looks you in your eyes. “You want something, don’t you?”

“No…” you say, but he doesn’t believe you. He stares you down with those intimidatingly green eyes of his until you crack. “Okay fine. I needed to ask to borrow something.”

“Borrow whatever you want, baby.”

Your face lit up as you sat upright, almost knocking his chin with your head with how quick you moved. “Really?!” He nods. “Wow, that was easier than I thought. Thank youuu.” You grab onto his face, planting kisses on his cheeks, nose and lips. 

Before he can kiss you back properly, you slide off his lap, leaning over his body to search his bedside drawer. “Now, where is it…”

“Where’s what?” He watches you slap around his messy drawer with an amused face.

“Your controller,” you mumble, continuing to dig through his belongings.

“Oh hell nah, you’re not using that.” He grabs your ankle and tugs you backwards. 

You snap your head to look at him, offended. “What? Why!? You said I could borrow whatever I want!”

“Well anything but that. You don’t mess around with my games, sorry babe.” He reaches to boop your nose but you slap his hand away, frowning. “It’s not personal. I don’t let anybody touch it. Even when Armin comes over, he has to bring his own shit.”

“I’m not  just anybody though,” you argue back. “Why can’t I use it?”

“Why do you even need it? Since when do you play video games?”

“Since fucking forever! My friend wants to play Minecraft with me and my phone is too laggy. Please baby,” you beg, grabbing his hands and pressing soft kisses on his knuckles to try to make him change his mind.

“Could you do that on my dick instead?” he challenges, a juvenile smirk on his face as he watches you slowly stop kissing his knuckles to glare up at him. 

You groan and move to lay on his bed, staring at his moving ceiling fan as you think of ways to persuade him. Eren climbs over you and you have half a mind to kick him off. The sheer satisfaction of watching him hit the floor is tempting, but you need to get on his good side. Eren leans down and tries to kiss you, but you move your face the other way. 

It’s adorable how confused and hurt he looks, so he bends down to kiss you again, only for you to move the opposite way. “Wow, so this is what we’re doing now, huh?”

You continue ignoring him, flicking your eyes everywhere but his face. 

“Okay, fuck. Fine, here.” He reaches under his bed and pulls out his controller. Your eyes light up as he hands it to you. “Treat it like that’s your kid. I don’t play around when it comes to that.”

“I will I will, thank you.” You plant a wet kiss onto his cheek, smiling as he grumbles and wipes it off. 

“Come here.” He pats his lap and you crawl onto his lap, between his legs, as he turns on his TV, signing into his PS account so you can play your game.

“Can I use your headphones too?” You ask him, watching his face turn deadpan as he looks at you.

“Don’t ask for too much now.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine. The controller is good.” Whilst he’s setting everything up, you pull out your phone and click on Jean’s contact. As you’re texting him, asking if he’s ready to play, Eren gives your sides a squeeze and bends down to speak into your ear. “All done setting up.”

You whisper a thank you before grabbing your headphones and plugging them into your phone. Eren drowns out the sound of your voice as you keep playing, choosing between watching you waltz around the open world or texting his group chat. Time passed by and you switched your position on the bed, now laying flat on your stomach, giving Eren a full view of your body.

A shiver runs across his body and he craves your warmth, so he taps the back of your thigh once to get your attention. 

“Hold on, gimme a sec,” you say to Jean, muting the call, then turning to face Eren. “What’s wrong?”

“C’mere,” he pats his lap and you smile, pausing the game as you wiggle your way back onto his lap, your back pressed flush against his chest and you tilt your head to the side so Eren can rest his face on your neck. 

You continue talking and playing with Jean. Since you’re this close to him, Eren can hear the voice through the headset, then hears the familiar snorting loud laughter. He grabs the headphones and puts it in his ear, hearing Jean talking. 

“Why the fuck are you playing with Jean?” He asks you, fighting back the urge to hang up the phone.

“Wha—because he wanted to play with me?” You blink at him, confused. “Is that a problem?”

Eren pouts once he notices you aren’t catching the hint. It’s common knowledge the distaste Eren and Jean both have for each other; whenever they’re in the same room, they both have to physically restrain from calling the other names. Seeing you laughing and playing video games with Jean makes Eren want to just snatch his controller back and leave Jean to suffer alone. 

“Hello?” Jean questions from the other end of the line, wondering why you’ve been quiet all of a sudden. 

“Eren, if it makes you feel better, Connie is coming online any moment now. So I’m technically not just playing with Jean.” 

“Whatever, yeah.” He grumbles, letting you go back to playing. The entire time you play, he’s watching Jean’s character on screen move. His fingers tighten against your waist every time he sees Jean’s Steve run up too close to you, whenever he hands you an item, whenever he practically does anything. 

He shifts his eyes to you, eyes focused on the screen as you build a better house and Eren licks his lips, wondering how he can distract your attention from Jean to him. 

His hand slowly starts sliding downwards, subtle enough for you to not notice, until it reaches the waistband of your sweatpants. You’re too distracted to notice him untying the knot, then slipping further downwards. 

“Wait, gimme a second,” you speak into the phone, then turn to face your boyfriend. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing.” Eren shrugs nonchalantly, licking his lips as his rough fingers glide along your panties. 

You swallow hard to fight back a moan. “Are you trying to make me—” you lowered your voice and spoke away from your microphone. “If you want to have sex just tell me, I’ll hang up.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” Eren manoeuvres your face back to facing the TV. You clear your throat, fingers shaking slightly against the controller as you feel his fingers peel away your panties, rubbing along your slit.

Your breath hitches when he teases the tips of his fingers inside your hole, dipping it inside just enough for you to feel something, but not enough to make you feel satisfied. Since you couldn’t use your words, you sent him a pleading look with your eyes, hoping he’ll get the hint. 

Eren only smiled before dipping his finger inside bit by bit. Your breathing was shaky and you spread your legs more to give him a better angle. He pumps his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace, wanting nothing more than to hear you lose control of your voice and hear you moan into the mic. 

Unfortunately for him though, this wasn’t enough to gather that much of a reaction from you. He noticed how good you were at containing your voice, clearing your throat whenever a soft whimper would leave your lips. He pulls his fingers out and lifted you up and off his lap, putting you back onto the bed, then crawled in front of you, settling himself between your legs.

Your eyes went wide as you tried to close your legs, but he kept them open with both hands, tugging you forward until you were laying down. Your yelp caught the attention of Jean and Connie, asking you if you’re alright, but you were too busy focusing on the way Eren’s tongue laved its way inside your body. His lips sealed around your clit and your back arched off the bed, legs desperately trying to close in on themselves, only to wrap around Eren’s head as it moved up and down, licking and sucking your pussy like it was his favourite meal. 

“Oh my god… Eren—I—” You forgot your mic was still on and removed your headphones, tossing them against the bed as you reached downwards, grabbing his hair and tugging at it. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

He hums into your pussy, the vibration making you squirm uncontrollably against the sheets as you reach your peak. His tongue flicks at your clit, stimulating it in circles until you are panting heavily, on the verge of ripping his hair out and coming on his face. His name was like a prayer on your tongue with the way you were chanting it, biting your lip in a failed attempt to control your sounds.

He parts your folds with two fingers, licking up and down until you were overstimulated and had to beg him to stop. He sat upright, licking his lips, looking satisfied and smug as ever. His hands braced themselves beside your head and he bent down to kiss you. You let him slide his tongue against yours in your mouth, moaning around the vessel as his hips rolled downwards, meeting yours. 

On the TV, the sound of zombies growling catches your attention, and you peek past his lean body to see. It’s nighttime and the mobs are out. Panicking, you push him off you and grab your abandoned headphones from the bed, putting them back on your ears, ready to get back to playing as if nothing happened. 

“You both are DISGUSTING.” Connie’s voice groans into the mic, making you freeze as you forgot to mute the mic. His voice was loud enough for Eren to hear through the headphones. Eren erupted into laughter, grabbing your headphones to speak in them.

“Don’t be upset because you can’t get any.”

Connie spluttered gibberish and you hid your face in your hands, shaking your head, utterly embarrassed. Eren kisses your forehead and grabs your face, giving you another long wet kiss, loud enough for Connie to hear and groan again, telling you both to get a room. Jean was quiet the entire time. 

“I’m never playing games with you again, sick fucks.” Jean grumbles eventually, making Eren cackle again, even louder than before. 

“It’s okay, I can take it from here,” Eren mumbles against your lips and gathers you back onto his lap, taking control of the controller as you process the embarrassment alone. “You two, hop on Val now. It’s my turn.”

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Big Boy (L. Minho) ‗ ❍

Pairing : f reader x Minho

Summary : You see your boyfriend shirtless for the first time in a while and realize he got buff in the meantime

Genre/warnings : pure smut (kinda soft bc I can't help myself), 18 + ONLY, unprotected sex, m oral receiving, reader is called kitty a few times (not big on the term but by now it's Minho's, just replace it with baby if you feel like it)

Word count : 1.5k

A/n : Inspired by this set of gifs because I'm actually on the floor as we speak, no thots just drool

ps: There could be errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The bathroom was completely steamed up as you entered, making you huff slightly.

"It's so hot in here" you said, then immediately stopping in your tracks as you took in the image of your boyfriend.

He was quietly standing in front of the full length mirror, only wearing a towel around his hips as he dried his hair with the hairdryer. He noticed you come in thanks to the reflection, turning off the noise and looking back at you.

"What was that?" his tone calm and casual, as if he wasn't looking like a literal marble sculpture come to life. You rested your hands on your hips, borderline annoyed at the fact that somehow you missed your boyfriend changing so much.

"When the hell did you get so buff?" Minho couldn't help but smirk at your words, slowly putting away the hairdryer to give you his full attention.

"Don't know, since I started working again with the PT, I guess." he spoke, walking closer like a cat that was about to catch his prey.

"You must've exploded in the last couple of weeks because there's no way that I didn't notice, with all the times that we've seen each other naked" you raised you eyebrows, placing your hands on his chest.

Minho's sly expression didn't falter, if anything became even more mischievous as your hands started to roam from his upper chest, to his shoulders, biceps.

"To be fair we were a bit too busy fucking to clearly take each other in. I've been so busy lately that we didn't even manage to take a shower together." his tone was so casual even saying the most dirty things sometimes that it made you blush.

"Whatever the reason, I won't let you out of my sight again, Lee Minho" your eyes looking up at him flirtatiously, while your hands slowly made their way lower towards his tummy. He sustained your gaze, his brown eyes intense as ever.

"How do I know that my kitten will not overlook me again?" the condescension in his voice instantly shifted the mood, sending shivers of excitement down your spine.

You decided to play his game, sliding lower and lower until you were kneeling on the ground. Hands on his hips, just lightly gripping the hem of the towel that was holding on for deal life to his shower-clean body.

"I'm so sorry. Will you let me make it up to my baby?" Your eyes still fixed on each other as you spoke. You waited for his spoken permission, even though the growing tent underneath the towel fabric was enough of an answer.

"I'll decide later. Wanna see how sorry you are, first" his cherry red hair fell a little on his eyes as his head was bent down, which made his gaze even darker somehow.

"I'll try my very best" the towel finally dropped to the ground with just a little tug from your fingers, revealing his hard cock. His abs tightened for a second as you took him into both of your hands, starting to move them up and down slowly but firmly, making it hard for Minho to not choke on air.

He tried to hide the noise by clearing his throat, simultaneously placing his right hand on your head, without forcing it, but merely resting there. You took it as a sign to take a step further, opening your mouth to take his cock, sucking on the tip.

His fingertips lightly grabbed at your scalp, but luckily, or not, for him, you had decided to take your sweet time. So instead you removed one hand from his dick to interlace your fingers with his, guiding his hand away from your head to his side.

He must've found it amusing, since he released a faint chuckle as he decided to let you lead for once, placing both hands behind his back.

For some reason, his sudden willingness to give up his usually dominant demeanor pushed you to try and do even better, desperately wanting to prove yourself to him. Your mouth opened even more as you took him deeper, his tip touching the back of your throat.

"Shit, my baby is really trying her best for me, isn't she?" he groaned, the humor in his voice never completely overshadowed by the arousal. The praise made you hum against him, which also made his hips buck onwards, making you gag a bit.

It wasn't exactly a mistake since he just kept going, with a steady pace, not thoroughly fucking your throat, but making sure that you gagged a bit at every stroke. Your head went still as you let him use you however he wanted, making the strokes of your hand on his cock almost automatic.

Tears prickled the corner of your eyes as your nails lightly dug into the flesh of his ass cheeks, making him hiss.

"Alright enough- I need to fuck you" Minho pulled back, releasing himself from your mouth and then bending down to reach for your face with his hands. His lips crashed with yours, immediately initiating a sloppy and messy kiss that was all teeth, tongue and lip biting.

Your hands gripped his arms for stability as he started to undress you, pulling down your pants and underwear in one go, and then interrupting the kiss to slip off your shirt too.

What he did after though, was unexpected, as he gripped your thighs and effortlessly picked you up, making you instinctively wrap your legs around him.

"Minho!" you gasped at his strength. He was always quite strong even when he didn't have as many muscles, but at least he looked like he did struggle just a little bit. But now, you could've easily been a sack of flour and it wouldn't have made a difference to him.

"You thought that they were just for aesthetic?" he laughed at you, crashing his lips to yours one more time before throwing you on the soft bed. Minho didn't waste time as he put two of his fingers, his pointer and middle, in your mouth.

"I'm sure you're wet enough, but just to make sure" he murmured, a glimmer of humor in his dark eyes. You eagerly did as you were told, sucking on his fingers and bobbing your head slightly too, just like you were doing moments before on his cock.

He groaned, too horny to let you continue your actions. He removed his fingers from your mouth, moving them south to rub up and down your slit. At the same time he leaned down to leave sloppy kisses to your neck, your arms wrapping around his neck and your hips bucking up.

"Such a good kitty for me. My good girl" he murmured against your skin, eliciting a hum from you that quite literally sounded like a purr. But of course it wouldn't be Minho without a whiplash, so he suddenly bit your shoulder, grazing it with his teeth and making you gasp.

"A good kitty that should remember to show love to her boyfriend, next time" his tone wasn't serious at all, but your response was. In addition, two of his fingers were now pumping in and out of you, getting you ready for him properly.

"So sorry, baby- ah, I'll make it up to you, I love you so much" he just chuckled at your desperate words, deciding to end both of your suffering as he removed his fingers from your pussy, replacing them with his cock instead.

"I know baby, I know" his voice much more softer, in stark comparison with the fairly quick strokes of his hips. "I know my baby loves me very much, I love you too" he continued.

Your legs wrapped around him, essentially pushing him deeper into you. Your mouth latched to his as you both moaned. It wasn't unusual to get these sweet moments with Minho, but his dominant side tended to show more in bed.

He just wanted to make sure that he knew that you loved him. That you found him attractive and cared for him, regardless of a few centimeters more or less to his biceps.

The new angle of his hips made sure that your clit rubbed on his pubic bone, which quickly got you to your orgasm. You moaned his name breathlessly as you came, lightly dragging your nails on his back. This action in addition to your walls getting impossibly tight around his cock made him come too.

Minho stilled for a few seconds as he came inside you, and made sure to gently ride out both of your orgasms afterwards. Unexpectedly, you turned your head to the side, leaving a teasing but gentle bite to his bicep, as his arms were caging you.

"You look really hot, by the way, if it wasn't obvious" voice dangerously teasing. Minho got his head up from your shoulder, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"Careful or we might stay here all day, kitten" he responded, to then gently leave a kiss on your lips. "Thank you, by the way. Next time you can come see them in the making, if you want." he added, his head nudging to his arms.

You chuckled, still keeping him close as you moved some sweaty hair from his forehead. "I'd love to"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[crookedteethed]

18+

⋆ ★ You weren't even a fan, but here you were fucking the band's drummer in his tour bus. <3

Pairing: band!rafe x fem!reader

(a/n: posting this so y'all don't think I passed away😍😍😍 ps: I imagine rafe being a pouge in this. )

"For fuck sakes Cameron! Would'ja unlock the goddamn door?!" JJ, the bands guitarist struck the bus door as if it been his electric guitar.

"I'm coming, hold your horses!" Rafe yelled back, his voice muffled by the thick door. You could picture him rolling his eyes and a smirk playing on his lips. "Just giving our guest here the grand tour."

The bus fell silent for a moment--beside from the squelching slick of your cunt--and you could almost feel the confused glances being exchanged between JJ and Pope. Then, a loud groan reverberated through the door.

"You mean to tell me you brought a groupie on board? We have another show in a few hours, Rafe! This isn't the time for your extracurricular activities." Pope, their bassist, voice carried a hint of frustration and concern.

"Oh, shut up, Hayward. It's not what you and Maybank think," Rafe retorted, his hand still gripping possessively on your hip, his cock slotting in and out your sopping wet cunt. "Open the damn door and see for yourself!"

"It's locked you asshole!" You heard Pope quip, causing Rafe to laugh like the little shit he was.

"Oh yeah, guess you'll have to wait then!" Rafe shouted.

You wondered if they could hear you--the little whimpers that laced your lips at every rock of Rafe's hips--as you had heard them but actively decided to ignore them. 

"Rafe hurry up." you whined, tilting your head back to rest on Rafe's shoulder. "They're waiting."

"You think I give a shit about them waiting?" he asked you, his rocking movement stilling for a moment, and because you didn't want the pleasure to end, you quickly shook your head 'no.' 

Rafe had you bent over the tour bus dining table, your leg hitched upon the carbon steel, as he gave it to you from the back, repeatedly.

Your leather skirt and bra were bunched at your waist, and your shirt was on the ground somewhere. Rafe's impatience had torn the fishnets you had on earlier to shreds. 

You felt Rafe's hands grip your hips tighter, pulling you back onto him with each thrust. The table dug into your stomach, a contrast to the pleasure that pulsed through you.

The tour bus's windows had been tinted, but you could feel the eyes of the other band members on you, cupping their hands to the glass, but you didn't care. 

This was always how it was after a show for Rafe—the rush of performing, the need to let go, and the freedom of the open road, and the girls, girls, girls!

Rafe had realized he'd been a lucky man because every night after his band had done a set, there would be a queue of girls waiting to do whatever he said. 

He'd fucked girls in the East and the Midwest, and the South that had pretty decent pussy, but the girls in the West pussies never seemed to fail Rafe--like yours per se. 

Rafe breath was hot against your ear, his desire matching your own; Rafe almost wanted to kiss you. 

You pulsed around his cock at the sensation.

Fuck, did Rafe love your pussy, he really did.

"You'resofuckingwarm." Rafe words jumbled. 

Your cunt was the type of warmth you'd feel after being outside in the cold all day or, as Rafe imagined, the type of warmth you get from hugging a dead loved one, per se, like his mother. 

A moan escaped your lips as Rafe's tip hit a particularly sensitive spot, and you knew you were close.

The bus bounced slightly with each of Rafe's eager movements, a rhythm that matched the pounding in your chest.

The sight of your heart-shaped ass backing into Rafe's pelvis--equally as eager as him to reach your peak--almost made Rafe say, "fuck it." and let you make an honest man out of him. 

You wanted to prolong this moment, but the pleasure was too much.

"I'm close," you panted, your voice hoarse with need.

Rafe's response was a low growl, his hips snapping faster, driving you further towards the edge.

Rafe's hands then switched from gripping your hips to both his hands, palming your plush breast and forcefully pushing you back on his cock, causing the table to creak beneath your weight, the sound adding to the erotic symphony of the moment. 

And then, with one final, deep thrust, you cried out, your body shaking as pleasure washed over you.

"Ah, fuck." you panted. "Fuck." your head was spinning. It felt like someone had just put your brain in a blender, and pressed start--metaphorically speaking.

Rafe followed a hoarse groan tearing from his throat as he found his release, his cock twitching inside for every stride of his cum.

For a moment, you both stayed still, catching your breath. Then, with a soft laugh, Rafe pulled out and turned you to face him.

And you were pretty too?! Rafe had thought to himself, because this was the first time he ever really saw your face that wasn't in the dark bar light.

Rafe was glad that he hadn't been drunk or high in the moment, because he could see himself now getting down on one knee and popping the big question.

Rafe had watched you get yourself back together, he handed you you're discarded shirt on the floor, and then asked:

"Can I see you again?"

You took the shirt from Rafe, feeling a mix of emotions. On the one hand, you were flattered by his apparent attraction; on the other, you knew your personalities were likely incompatible. "I'm not much of a groupie," you replied with a small smile. 

Rafe couldn't help but burst out laughing at your response. "Well, I guess I'll just have to settle for this one unforgettable fuck then," he joked.

"Rafe it's just that--" you paused. "I know your type. You're the type to hit it and quit it, right? Leave girls once you get sick of them?"

"Funny, I didn't take you as a tabloid junkie. You shouldn't believe everything the magazines say, y'know?" Rafe said with that boyish charm of him--the same charm that landed you getting fucked in the back of his tour bus.

You laughed, a rich, full sound that surprised you both. "Fair enough," you conceded, slipping your shirt back on.

"But I'm serious, Rafe. I'm not looking for a fling, and I don't want to be another notch on your bedpost." You paused, considering your next words carefully. "I like you, and this was… incredible. But I'm not sure we're meant for anything more."

Rafe's face softened, and he took your hand in his. "Hey, I get it. I've got a reputation, and it's not exactly a good one." He squeezed your hand gently. "But maybe, just maybe, we could try something different? Something real?" His eyes searched yours, and you could see the sincerity in them.

You bit your lip, torn between your better judgment and the pull you felt towards this enigmatic man.

"Sorry, cowboy. My 'no playboys' policy is firm," you playfully jested, causing Rafe to flash a grin.

"Oh, really?" he responded, drawing you closer. "I suppose I'll have to sway your opinion then."

"I suppose you will."

And with that, time would tell if he could win you over or not.