#please repost i’m begging

[piakae]

reach me ☆— p. sunghoon

synopsis ➔ sunghoons love language is touch, and yours is quality time. you need reassurance that that’s okay.

pairing ➔ bf!sunghoon x reader

genre ➔ fluff

word count ➔ idk but trust it’s short.

warnings ➔ tiny angst, fluff, reader needs some reassurance. um i think it can be read for any gender/pronouns but lemme know if not 😜

a/n ➔ why do i feel the need to reassurance fics with sunghoon. like that nightmare one i did. maybe that should tell me something…. oh well!! enjoy! OMG ALSO this is kinda all over the place bc i absolutely forgot whatever ideas i had for this. jesus long ass a/n okay bye.

you slump your shoulders and sigh, bringing a hand to your head, palm on your forehead.

a throbbing made a crescendo when you bend down to drop your bag. all you wanted was a rest, some water, and sunghoon.

he’s already looking at you from the couch, a slight furrow in his brows, when you look up. your dress shirt is wrinkled and half tucked when he sits up silently.

“headache.” you say in an almost whisper, filling the warm silence as you head for the bathroom. you longed for him to follow and envelop you in warmth, but instead you opted for the water. which washed you, which sunghoon probably couldn’t.

you emerge in one of your boyfriends shirts and long pants to cover you from the cool breeze.

“do you want something to eat?” he asks quietly, taking in consideration the banging in your head and chest. he knew how you looked on a good work day, and he definitely knew how you looked a bad one. and also how to take care of you.

he always took care of you, and you always tried to do the same but you didn’t have the same skills as him.

shaking your head, you slowly approach sunghoon and the couch.

he opened his arms for you to slump in his chest. the urge to stuff your face in his chest tempted you before you could, taking a mental step back. he’s probably tired too.

“somethings bothering you. and it’s not just work.”

how does he know that?

not wanting to bother him, you accept his invitation.

with his arms wrapped around you, and your body crammed in with your hands awkwardly laying where they assumed they should go. he felt comfortable but did you? how did he always know what to do? why didn’t you?

maybe it was a fatigue that made you question your qualifications to be his partner, but fatigue was winning. you lay your head on his chest, something you would never do.

“how do you know what to do?”

“im gonna need more context, y/n.”

you sigh and smile a tad. “i mean, like, being a boyfriend. i’m already gonna fall asleep in your arms even though i’m still stressed from work.” you take a second and look up to him, “how do you know how to make me feel like this?”

he chuckled, “it’s not knowing. it’s more like, instinct.”

“but whenever i have an ‘instinct’ i feel like it’s clingy or too much.”

he blinks, “god, that makes me wonder how clingy you think i am.”

it’s your turn to furrow your brows, wondering how sunghoon could every think he’s too clingy. it made you realise that his love language, something you read about in your early teens, was entirely physical touch. when you first met him, 10th grade, maths class, you could have never imaged it.

“you’re good at that, not being clingy. you know how much is too much, how little is too little.” you confess. it makes you think about how your energy levels control how you hold your tongue. sunghoon smiles at the odd compliment, running his hand softly up and down your upper arm.

“it doesn’t worry me one bit, you shouldn’t be worried either. you know why? because you show me love in other ways. apparently you don’t even realise it.” he responds softly, receiving a raised eyebrow from you. “you spend time with me. every second you get. i love it.”

“you come grocery shopping with me, come with me when i need gas. not only that, but you take me places you know i’ll like. it means more than you think, y/n.”

jutting your bottom lip out, you stuff your face back into his chest. you can feel his light laugh through his chest, also feeling the sleep returning. the reassurance from sunghoon, now knowing that he liked, even loved, everything you tried to bring to the relationship lifted the weight of a thousand thoughts off your strained shoulders. and your headache.

his hands continue to comfort you, his own pride in making his girlfriend feel better making his heart bloom.

“get some rest, y/n.”

masterlist

- 🏷️ @raevyng @i520sn @enhacolor

a/n pt. 2: let’s not talk about how i change my writing style every fic. let’s ignore that.

[nooodlezzz]

Making a pledge now that if I win that Gorillaz art Contest I will literally do every single chore I need to do. Cleaning, homework, packing, etc bro. Put that on god.

Bro I’ll even make those gorillaz plushies that I haven’t made yet. I’m so fr I’ll even beat all the fnaf games.

[leafdoodles]

Mentioning this on Tumblr too- credit artists guys. Putting “found this on [site name] but can’t find the user” doesn’t help?? Don’t repost art if you can’t find the artist thanks.

[hagnoart]

Black: Willem and Jude

ALSO IMPORTANT - I have a spare ticket for 11th of July 19.00, stalls seat. If you know anyone that might be interested please please let me know, I’d sell it for half a price of the og ticket value etc etc. Thank you

[fettuccin-e]

Just fell to my fucking knees I literally started breathing heavily while reading this holy shit I cannot get enough air into my LUNGS

the way they just wordlessly follow each other??? After wanting each other for so long and they just know holy FUCK I NEED HIM I NEED HIM BARBARKBDHKSKRJWKKS

vis-à-vis

frankie morales x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: your bedroom window offers a direct view into your cute neighbour's apartment. as time goes by, you two start looking for each other through the glass. shy glances become desperate, needy glimpses into each other's lives until one day, you finally make contact. warnings/tags: neighbour!frankie, some serious exhibitionism, naked window neighbour behaviour, a mild obsession between two strangers, mutual masturbation, brief piv sex between reader and an OC [while frankie watches of course], very little actual foreplay, unprotected piv sex, a hint of possessive!frankie, come eating, getting fucked in a short little sundress yahtzee, two* people that need to be thrown in horny jail [three* if you include me] word count: 4.2k masterlist a/n: so i got caught up last night thinking about vis-a-vis apartments. the exposure of it, the perversion, the intimacy... annnnd this was born. hope you enjoy x follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing

You live in a studio apartment on the fifth floor of a complex.

Crowded and cluttered, you live practically on top of yourself. Always squeezing through the doorway, shins permanently littered with grazes and scrapes from where you’ve bumped into the bedframe, the coffee table, the anything. Kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, all cramped within 600 square feet.

And there is only one window. A thick, wood framed sheet of glass that rests directly above your bed. When you peer out the window and look down, you are privy to every coming and going in the alleyway below – a constantly overflowing dumpster, a family of rats scavenging for discarded food scraps, the occasional drunken hook up between two sturdy brick walls on a Friday night. But if you let your eyes float up, if you stare directly out your window, you can see into his apartment. Into his kitchen, you realise quickly. Can clearly see a tall cabinet, a wide silver fridge.  

And he’s a stranger to you, in those first few weeks of your lease. And then, slowly but surely, a little more than that.  

At first, it’s just a brief catching of eyes. Awkward, almost shy moments where the two of you find yourselves peering outside at the same moment. Looking away quickly, cringing, drawing the curtains.

And then it’s wary smiles.

You sit up in bed one day, hair greasy and flattened from your pillow. Pull back the curtain and spy him standing in the kitchen with a mug in his hand. Rubbing sleep from his eyes with a tired fist and then pausing, nodding suspiciously at you through the glass. Good morning, stranger.

Another afternoon you get home from work to find him pacing, phone tucked between ear and shoulder, that far away face twisted up in a frown. You catch his eye and smile; offer raised brows and a curious thumbs-up that ask – You doing okay, stranger? He imitates the gesture, face going soft, kind. Long fingers curling into a wave, and then a thumbs-up in return. I’m good, thank you, stranger.  

Your stranger is tall. Built strong, broad, with dark hair, dark features.

Your stranger has a moustache, facial hair, and he scratches his fingers through it when he cooks dinner some evenings.  

Your stranger is never dressed up. He wears weathered t-shirts, hides his hair away beneath caps, slips sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose before he leaves the apartment.  

Sometimes your stranger has guests. Loud, boisterous friends that fill up his kitchen. Two blond men frequent the apartment; lounge against his kitchen counters, nursing beers and talking shit. You hear them sometimes, on the warmer nights. He cracks the window to welcome in a breeze, unaware of you lying in your bed, hidden beneath the windowsill, eavesdropping on deep voices, and bellowing laughter. You play a game with yourself on those nights, trying to pinpoint which voice might be his. Hear the name Benny once or twice and imagine that it could be his name, although it never seems to fit.

Sometimes weeks will go by with no sign of him.

In those times, his curtain stays drawn back – no prying eyes to hide from except yours. You watch the morning light brighten his lonely kitchen. Admire how the setting sun hits his cabinets in a glistening display of orange and yellow. You find yourself anticipating a roommate. A wife or a husband; someone that shares his bed, who sips from that same mug he takes his coffee in each morning. But there is no one else. Your stranger is a solitary creature, just like you.

When he returns from these disappearances, your stranger often looks exhausted. Pours his coffee with hunched shoulders, rests heavier against the bench than is normal. He offers tired, drowsy waves to you in the mornings. Tilts the neck of a beer bottle to you in the evenings, cheers stranger. 

And then one day, a handful of weeks into the sticky Floridian summer, things take a turn.    

At dusk, freshly showered, you rub a towel over your skin, chasing wayward droplets of water as you tug open a drawer. Dry enough, you twist your hair into the towel to keep it off your skin. Pull a pair of underwear up your legs, slip a thin sleep singlet over your head. And only then do you look. Almost instinctual now, the way your eyes flick and flutter in the direction of the window, curious and searching. And to your surprise, those eyes are already on you. Dark and beady, they peer through the glass, piercing the bare skin of your legs, your arms, your stomach. Face slack and dappled with red, he meets your stare and flinches. Tears himself away and pulls the curtain closed in fast, jerky movements.  

And where there should be shock, or perhaps an affronted uneasiness, you just smile. Tuck yourself into bed and grin, the skin beside your eyes pinching. So endeared to your stranger now, you find your stomach warming at the memory of his blush, his embarrassment at being caught. Pulse quickening, your hand slips beneath the band of your underwear, and you wonder how long he must have stood there. How long he let himself watch you, how much he’d seen. And you know that you want to see it again – that flush on his cheeks, those lips twisting into an apologetic grimace. You make yourself come twice just thinking about it.  

Soon the air gets hotter, wetter, and you wear less clothes around the apartment. Open the curtains earlier, close them later, hoping that he’ll look in. That he’ll see you in your underwear again, or less.

In early July your AC breaks and you resign yourself to lounging in nothing but your littlest underwear most evenings. Thin strips of cotton that only just cover the seam of your cunt, the crease between your ass cheeks. Breasts bare, skin shimmering with sweat – all of it exposed to the warm lamplight of your apartment for your stranger to see as you prance through your space.   

One weekend, after darkness has shrouded the street, you text an old flame. Some guy whose name starts with J and you’ve slept together a handful of times, and always regretted it afterwards. You lay him out on your thin mattress and spread your thighs over his waist, eyes darting upward as he slips inside of you. He notices your stare out the window, mistakes the look in your eyes for nervousness, says someone might see us, and you assure him that no one lives there. You wedge it open, feel the summer breeze whisper against your skin, and he says, someone might hear us, and you assure him that they won’t.  

You grip his shoulder and rock your hips against his, breasts bouncing with every rise and fall of your body, and your stranger pauses at his window. Head tilting to the side, he peers across the alleyway, and you see the way his body jolts. Shoulders stiffening, eyes meeting yours, he doesn’t look away. Drags the hat off his head and stares.  

Eyelids fluttering, you stare at the hard line of his jaw. That expressionless face stares back at you, and you moan when he crosses his arms, biceps pulling taught across his chest, and leans against the wall beside his window. You wonder if he can hear you; hope that he can. Whimper a name that starts with J while your mind calls out to your stranger.  A hand lands on your breast, too soft, too gentle for your liking, and then he’s turning you over. Pushing you onto your stomach, pulling your hips back into his, and when you look up, your stranger has fled the scene and turned out the light.

 

Four days later, you see him for the first time without a pane of glass between you. It’s late, uncharacteristically cool for mid-summer, and you’re tipsy off vodka lime sodas wearing a skirt that leaves little of your legs to the imagination. Your fingers struggle against the keypad, trying to get inside of your building, and you hear laughter down the street. A couple sets of heavy footsteps that get closer with every second.

When you glance over your shoulder, a sort of nervous anticipation bubbles in your stomach.  

He's with the blondes again. One of them has an arm wrapped around his neck, hand on the brim of his cap, threatening to pull it off. The other stumbles along a few steps behind, chuckling under his breath.  

Your breaths are coming short and sharp as you jab a finger against the keypad. Five, seven, nine— 

You hear something clatter against the concrete path. A phone, maybe. And then— 

“Told you not to drink so much, Benny,” a low voice teases, so close now, and something goes tight at the base of your spine.  

You can’t help yourself. You have to look, you have to.  

It’s fleeting, a passing glance over your right shoulder, but your eyes lock with his instantly. Your stranger, in the flesh.  

His pace slows a little, dark brown eyes rounding out as he stares at you. Head turning, turning, looking back now to keep an eye on you even as he comes to a stop outside of his building. Movement catches your attention, and you look back to see the drunk one—Benny—moving to follow them. He meets your eye and flashes a quick wink at you.  

“Benny,” your stranger snaps. A shiver races down your spine. His voice. “C’mon.”  

“Alright, alright,” Benny mutters, jogging now, following the other two men inside.  

You take a deep breath, hands shaking as you press five, seven, nine, four and head into your own building.  

The blondes stay for a few hours. Sounds of a sporting match blare from a TV and drift out the window, sneaking into your apartment. You drink a cold glass of water, and then another, shower and then tuck yourself into bed naked. Another hour passes, and the cool front that plagued the city for the day slips away, allowing that familiar humidity to attack your senses once more. You kick your sheets to the end of the bed, restless, and strain your ears to listen. Television off, no more Benny now. The neon numbers on your alarm clock blink, telling you that it’s just past midnight.

Carefully, you sit up in bed. Turn a little to see if he’s there. And he is, of course, he is.  

Your stranger is shirtless, stood a few metres away from the window, clad in a pair of loose black shorts. Dark hair a mess on the top of his head, and it’s curly. Gorgeous little tufts of wavy hair that cascade around his ears and—you’re salivating at the sight of him.  

He steps closer to the window, and then closer again. His shoulders are wide, arms long and strong. But his middle is soft, and you watch as he rests a broad palm across it. Shy, maybe. Hiding from you, maybe. You wish he wouldn’t.

So you rise up, perch on your heels and expose your bare chest to him. You think you can see him swallow, think you can see his hand twitch against that gorgeous stomach. And then you raise a hand and graze one of your nipples, slow. Feel it harden beneath your touch, pinch it between your thumb and index fingers as he watches. And when that hand on his stomach lowers, disappearing beneath the band of his shorts, you feel nothing but relief.  

Please, you whisper, begging him. Please, please, please.  

Your free hand slips beneath your pillow and grips your vibrator, hot pink and long. Never taking your eyes away from his, you press the on button and glide it between your thighs. Jolt when the tip of it presses between your slick folds, clit twitching beneath silicone.  

His face is flushed again, jaw clenched tight as he steps as close to the window as he can possibly get. He’s shaking his head, chest rising and falling faster now. You notch the toy at your entrance and press it inside, mouth falling open at the stretch, and you wish it were him, wish you knew how it felt to be touched by him. Endlessly, painfully needy for him.  

Bathed in soft yellow lamplight, the muscle in his bicep strains. It makes his skin look waxy and warm and you wish you were there. Want to know what he sees in you when he peers through your window; if you look as angelic as he does.

His elbow shifts, jaw titling upward as his chest heaves, gaze unwavering. The base of the window hides everything below his waistline from view, but this is enough. It’s enough to see the soft swell of his stomach, the dark smattering of hair across his pecs, the tension in his right shoulder as he touches himself.

You come with a groan, face a twisted mess of pleasure and agony and please, please, please, and you think you can hear him moan in response. Think he must be able to tell, because his left hand brackets against the top of the window, bracing himself, and he works his cock harder, faster. Arm shifting in rapid movements as he fucks his hand, dark eyes trained on your softening face. And when he finishes, hair sweaty and stuck to his forehead, mouth ajar, you whimper, desperate to know how it tastes. You imagine that salty slick on your lips, your tongue. Imagine swallowing it down and making it yours.  

And a few days later, you do exactly that.   

You walk home from a late dinner and the cool evening draft is kind against your skin. It plays with the hem of your sundress, flicking it up to expose the tops of your thighs. When you reach your building, you text you friend home safe, and tuck your phone back inside your purse. You’ve only made it halfway up the path to the complex when you see him, walking towards you from the other end of the street. He reaches his building before he notices you, and you watch him consider the door for a moment. Weigh up his options. And it feels like minutes, like an eternity, although it’s only a few seconds, before he continues walking, feet light as he makes his way towards you.

Five, seven, nine, four, you push open the heavy door and step inside. Hold it open for him to follow.  

He does so silently. Doesn’t say a word as he steps inside and glances around, as you make your way toward the stairs. Doesn’t comment on the out of order sign on the elevator, and doesn’t complain as he trails behind you up five flights of stairs. And with every step, you feel your stomach tightening. Feel liquid heat coiling between your thighs; that hot, wet desire that has been so so patient with the two of you.

Your stranger only ever lets himself fall a few paces behind, and as you grace the landing of the fifth floor, you feel fingertips graze the hem of your dress. A whisper of a touch; the tips of his fingers brush against the back your thigh for a split second, and disappear just as fast.  

You rifle through your purse for the key, slot it inside the hole, and then he’s there. Hot chest against your back, a hand on your waist, nudging you inside. Finally.  

A rough exhale pours from you as he presses your back against the closed door, and your stranger’s mouth is there to swallow it.

Warm, plump lips mould against yours, and you moan in relief. Knock his hat to the ground, fingers tangling in those dark curls, holding him against you.  

Face to face, at last. 

Everything is sticky and hot in your apartment, and you feel a sheen of sweat form across your chest, your stomach. The thin fabric of your dress clings to your skin and you sigh as his hands grip your hip, your thigh, hitching one of your knees around his waist. You haven’t even turned on the light, you want to see him up close, want to see everythi— 

The zipper on his jeans scratches at your inner thigh, and when the thick weight of his cock presses against your cunt, you both let out a ragged moan.  

“You want this?” he breathes into your mouth, voice a low rasp. The way his moustache tickles the skin of your face makes you throb.

“Yes,” you gasp, inhaling his scent as your tongue presses inside of his mouth. You taste behind his teeth, feel them bite and suck at your lips as he grinds into you. His clothed cock presses your soaked underwear between the crease of your cunt, material rubbing perfectly against your clit. “Ohh, I need you to fuck me.”  

“Shit,” he growls, damp forehead heavy against yours. “So fucking pretty.”  

He pulls back a fraction, rucking up the front of your dress in his fist and holding it against your stomach.  

“You wear this for me?” he asks, eyes devouring every inch of exposed skin, every slip of material still covering your body.  

“Yes,” you whimper again, mouth falling open as he nips at your neck, your collarbone. His free hand slips between your bodies, nudging your panties to the side, and then a thick finger glides through the slick spread of your cunt. He sighs against your skin, fingers rubbing messily against your clit until you’re keening, arching your chest into his.  

“You’re so wet,” he marvels quietly. “Wanted this cock for so long, hmm?”  

“It’s all I think about,” you confess, and the words burn as they leave your mouth. A dirty little secret that you’ve never even voiced out loud to yourself.

“And what about him?” he urges as a thick finger nudges its way inside of you. “Huh? You want him like this too?”  

You gasp, eyes pinching closed. You can feel the ridges of his knuckles as he presses deeper, squeezing another finger inside. Curling them against the softest spot within you, stretching you out for him.  

“Who?”  

“That fuckin’ guy,” he grunts against the hinge of your jaw. The memory swims in your vision; Josh or Jeremy or Jacob or whatever his name is fucking you while you looked for him.  

“He’s no one,” you moan, hips bucking against his hand. “Just—fuck—needed to see if you’d look, I wanted you to look.”  

He laughs, low and breathy against your neck, craning back to stare at your face while he fucks you with his fingers.

“You want me that bad?” he murmurs, gaze heavy. A sharp pink tongue sneaks out to wet his lips and you whimper, eyes zeroing in on his mouth.  

“Want you,” you nod slowly, tilting your chin up to kiss him again. He coaxes your jaw open wider, and his kiss is desperate, fast, a clashing clicking mess of tongues and teeth and spit.  

His fingers pull away from your soft clutch and you whine into his mouth, only abated by the sound of his zipper coming undone, of his jeans hitting the floor. Your fingers fumble with buttons of your dress, but he stops you on the third one with a hushed whisper of leave it on, of you look so good like this.  

His cock slips between your folds, and he grinds the thick length of it against you. The thick, drooling head bumps your clit, and you cry out.  

“Oh my god,” you mumble, and it’s so hot in here, so much all of a sudden, and you’re dizzy. Head a spinning blur, body nothing but a trembling wet mess beneath his palms.     

“S’Frankie,” he says then, notching the tip at your dripping entrance.

“What?” you murmur, eyes flashing open as he begins to press inside. It’s a stinging burn as you stretch around him, and your leg tightens around his hip, desperate to have him closer, deeper, after so much waiting.  

“My name,” he pants, eyes wide and searching, forehead knocking against yours again. His nose brushes against yours, so soft. “Frankie.”  

“Frankie,” you repeat, and it feels so right in your mouth. Something in his expression crumples at the sound of it, and he pushes in all the way to the hilt. You gasp, a wet, rough sound, jaw swinging loose as he settles inside of you.  

“Fuck,” you cry out, head falling back against the door. “You’re so much bigger than I—”  

“Hmm?” he noses at your jaw, pulling back a little just to press in deeper, gripping your hips, your panties hooked around his thumb. “You can take it, pretty girl. Thought this was what you wanted?”   

A hand falls to grip the flesh of your ass and then he’s lifting you off your feet entirely, clutching you to his chest. You grip his shoulders desperately, both legs locked in a vice around his waist now, and all you can do is steel yourself when he finally begins to fuck you.  

It’s fast and loud and wet. He holds you against his chest, strong hands lifting you up and down on his cock relentlessly. With every stroke his tip glides against your g-spot, and soon enough you’re a stuttering mess, vision blurring as your body goes loose and pliant in his grasp.

“Feel so good,” he groans, hiding his face in your neck. “Been fucking waiting for this, you have no idea.” 

“Frankie—”  

“Thought about it every night,” he grunts, teeth snagging on your earlobe. “I’d fuck myself thinking about how’d you’d taste, how soft your skin would be. Fuck.”  

You grip the back of his neck and bring his mouth to yours, but you can’t even bring yourself to kiss him. Just two open mouths, breathing each other in. Twist your fingers through the curls at his nape and tug, and you think you must be saying please, please, just like the first time he made you come, because he fucks you harder. Pushes you against the wall and pistons into you, unforgiving, hitting something inside of you that no one ever has before.  

“Oh, oh,” you gasp, eyes widening as you feel that familiar tingle in your spine. Your toes curl against his skin, desperately seeking purchase, something to ground you as you hover over the edge. It’s so close now, suddenly right within your reach, and you grind yourself against his pelvis, meeting him thrust for devastating thrust.

“Say my name again,” he rasps then, and you do, over and over again. “Wanna hear it when I make you come, please.”  

Frankie, Frankie, Frankie, you moan it into his skin, his mouth, your fingernails carve it the word into the flesh of his shoulder.  

It spurs him on, and he is unrelenting, giving you every he has, every wet shift of his cock inside of you punching the air from your lungs until you pull hot and tight around him, cunt pulsing, sucking him in deeper as you come. Body shivering and jerking, you’re trapped between his large frame and the unforgiving wood of your door, nothing to do except writhe and gasp and take it as he keeps fucking you.  

You can hear him grunting under his breath. Hot against your neck, licking the words es perfecto into your skin. And you wish you could understand, wish you could say something back, but the only word you know anymore is Frankie.  

“You wanna taste it?” he grunts, and yes, you cry, yesyesyesgodyes.  

He pulls out and you drop to your knees with a thud, drooling tongue slipping past your lips just in time to catch the hot, heady spurts of his come.

Frankie presses the tip of his cock inside your mouth and when you close your lips around it, he lets out a drawn-out groan. You hollow out your cheeks and chase down every bit of himself that he has to give to you. Slip your hand beneath his shirt, lay it over his stomach, that gorgeous stomach, and feel it rise and fall beneath your fingers. His come pools on your tongue and dribbles down your throat; hot and salty and bitter, but better than you could’ve ever imagined.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so good for me.” Strong hands cradle your face, thumbs digging into your skin as his hips buck forward once, twice more, finally emptying the last of himself onto your tongue. “Can't believe this." 

And only when you’ve swallowed every last drop do you let his cock slip from the warmth of your mouth. Gasping for breath, already missing him, you look up with wet. He brushes hair off of your face.

“You good?” he asks softly, cupping your jaw in his palm.  

“Yeah,” you murmur, nuzzling into his hand. “I’m good.”  

Slowly, Frankie helps you up from the ground, hand on your elbow to steady you, and then looks around your apartment.

He’s quiet for a moment, still breathing heavy, hand slipping around your waist, and his eyebrows drift down into a small frown as he gazes at your home for the first time.  

“Jesus,” he finally speaks. “This place is fucking tiny.”  

a/n: okay but do you have a naked window neighbour or are YOU the naked window neighbour? i've always been the latter, oops, anwyays thanks for reading!

[faststuck]

Please

please repost/like/follow.

The previous/First post on my tumblr. The post took two hours.

ALL THE TAGS DIDNT EVEN FUCKING SAVE

i spent two hours crediting EVERY. SINGLE. HOMESTUCK. CAST. MEMBER.

EVEN HUSSIE. AND HE ISNT EVEN ALLOWED TO FOLLOW HE IS OUR ONLY DNI!!!!!

AAHHHHHH

[pinkjako]

“i-i’m sorry, one more – just one more i promise, please?”

leon’s famous last words as he pounded in to you once more. his hot breath fanned your neck and his blonde hair stuck to your cheek as he planted sloppy kisses to your cheek, his pace quickening. face flushed against the soft pink pillow, hands gripping the frilly sheets, soft pleads leaving your mouth as leon’s mouth moved downwards to place soft, reassuring kisses to your neck. you’re so blown out that only murmurs leave your mouth, it feels as if your brains are coming out of your ears. your eyes roll to the back of your head as leon repeatedly hits the soft spot deep inside you, making you squeal – which drives him to go harder and faster.

panting behind you, his arms gripped your shoulders as he used the last of his strength to thrust in to you. you can tell he’s close, his thighs quivering and his head drooping low as he tries to gather all of his strength to release everything in you – again. you feel his hair brush against your neck as he begs in your ear to let him finish. a mix of pleads and apologizes rush out of his mouth as he hits the perfect spot one last time.

“baby please, i’m so close – s-shit i’m so sorry, i-i can’t-”

leon couldn’t even finish his sentence before releasing his umpteenth load in to you. your body, so spent and so tired, shuddered as you came with him. his hips slowed down and you felt his grip on your shoulders release. thinking that it was over, your eyes started to flutter shut and your body started to relax. 

“this is the last time, i promise, just one more and i’m done. please?”

thank you for reading!! i've been on a bit of a hiatus and i'm not sure how good this is considering the fact that i haven't written anything in months. trying to write more & and hopefully my writing is gonna improve :)) likes, comments, and reposts appreciated <33

[nefariouslydinkle]

HEY HEY YOU

The strike for PALESTINE STARTS TODAY

Retweet everything. Do NOT Be silent. USE YOUR VOICE. USE YOUR PLATFORM. FOR ONE DAY DO NOTHING BUT REPOST EVERYTHING ABOUT GAZA

Everything ABOUT PALESTINE

Use this time, use your voice, use your life. You have freedom, the citizens of Gaza are being killed without mercy.

Please. I’m begging you all. Please, strike. Strike. Repost nothing but Gaza on march 2nd.

Please.

[chrisbahng]

— [3:53am]

AUTHORS NOTE ; this is a repost from my old blog ( chrisbahng-old ). this is the only place this has been reposted and any other reposts are not me nor are they allowed. I am hoping to have new content soon and appreciate all the support so far <3

warnings ; chan is called alpha, breeding, petnames (puppy, angel, baby)

“Channie, it’s s’ big,” you wined as your boyfriend filled you only halfway full of his thick cock.

“I know, baby.” Chan cooed, bringing his hand to rest on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears that threatened to fall. ��But look,” he brought his eyes from yours to where you two connected. “Alpha’s already halfway in you.”

“Only half?” your gaze left Chan’s as you peered down to see if he was telling the truth. A moan escaped your lips at the sight of him slowly pushing the rest if himself into you.

“You’re taking me so well, pup.” Chan groaned as he nearly bottomed out in you. “Taking my cock like it was made for you, yeah?”

You whimpered in response; hearing him praise you was something you would never tire of hearing.

“That’s my good puppy,” Chan whispered as his hips met yours for the first time that night. Chan let out a blissful sigh and brought his attention back up to you, your puppy-dog eyes watering with tears again and Chan leans his forehead against yours.

“C’mon, I know you can take it, love. I haven’t even properly fucked you yet.” He said, closing his eyes as he starts to pull himself out of you.

“Hurts, alpha, it hurts,” you finally mumble out and Chan smiles down at you softly.

“Shh, angel, you’re gonna be alright. I’m here, alpha’s here.” Chan kissed your lips before pulling out to the tip and thrusting himself back into you. “Shit, puppy,” he cursed as his hips met yours. “How the fuck are still this fucking tight,”

His words made you tighten the grip you had on his shoulders, your nails digging into his soft skin and leaving little moons. “You think your little cunt would be sloppy and messy, but fuck,”

You clenched at his words and whimpered  when he pulled himself back out again. Chan repeated his motions, pulling out to the tip before slamming back into you, but progressively got more and more merciless.

Your mind went hazy, trying to think of any coherent thought or word to say was like reaching for something that wasn’t there. The only thing you knew is that you were reaching your end.

“Channie,” you croak, “‘m close,”

“Aww, is my puppy gonna cum? Hmm?”

You nodded, not knowing how much longer you could hold on. “Please,” you begged. “Please let me cum on your cock,”

Chan’s jaw clenched at your words. He hears you mutter them enough, but it still gets him every single time.

“Fuck, pup. Alpha’s gonna cum,” he said through gritted teeth, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“Cum in me, please,” you whine, bringing your hips up to meet his.

Those four words was all it took for Chan to lose it, he thrust himself into you harder than he’s ever done and bit down on your supple flesh. You could feel his cock twitching as he let go inside you. You felt warm, not hot, but warm.

A soft smile spread to your lips when Chan pulled out of you for the final time that night.

Chan sat up on his knees, admiring his work. “You look so pretty, my love. All my cum spilling out of you like this. You’ll be even prettier when you’re all pregnant with my pups, yeah?”

Chan leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, then nose and forehead. “Thank you, alpha,”

“Of course, pup. Now why don’t we run a bath, get us cleaned up a bit.” He replied.

You nodded in return, stretching your arms out for Chan to pick you up, not trusting your legs at the current moment. Chan lifted you up and kissed the top of your head. “You did so well tonight, I’m so proud of you.”

[rbfclassy]

A GOOD POUNDING! — TOJI + SUKUNA

SYNOPSIS...toji or sukuna fucking you so good that you can barely think, the only problem is that you can’t make any noise or he’ll stop

INFO...toji x fem!reader, sukuna x fem!reader, mirror sex, carry fucking, degrading, praise, they’re kinda mean, rough sex, pussy slaps, dacryphilia, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Just imagine toji or sukuna fucking you so good, his big strong arms holding you up, your arms wrapped around his neck as his dick pistons in out of you, leaving your mind spiraling. Your toes are curling at the delicious feeling of his cock rubbing against your g-spot, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. You’re panting, biting harshly on your bottom lip, eyes screwed shut because if you make any noise, he won’t hesitate to pull out and leave you and needy, whiny mess. Your pussy clamps down on his cock, juices cascading down his shaft and to his balls, making it sloppy between you two.

“You better not make a fucking sound or I’ll stop fucking this tight pussy,” he grunts. It’s so hard to keep quiet with how deep he was, the pleasure coursing through you wasn’t helping in the slightest. “Look,” he chuckles, “look at how much of a mess you’re making on my cock.” He nods towards the mirror, a smug smirk on his face as he easily lifts your hips. You look over your shoulder towards the mirror, seeing the effects of your creamy pussy. “Poor baby wants to cum so bad, huh?” He thrusts his hips into you unexpectedly, nearly making you yelp. You stare at him with such desperate eyes, practically begging him to let you at least make some type of noise.

It wouldn’t be too much longer until you did, his hips slamming back into your sopping cunt, making your eyes rolling back. His pace picks up, guiding your hips down to his as he watches the way your ass ripples against his pelvis. He’s being mean, fucking you harder and faster cause he wants to see you break. Your nails claw against his back, holding onto his for dear life, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. Your lips are pursed shut, digging your head into the crook of his neck as you tried to conceal the moans that wanted to escape to badly. The familiar feeling of your orgasm began approaching and you can’t hold it back anymore. “Please, please, please, I’m gonna cum!” You’re crying, tears pricking your eyes.

“What a fucking slut you are.” He pulls out of you without hesitation, leaving you squirming in his grip, hole clenching around nothing. “Can’t you listen to a word I say?”

“I’m sorry! Please just keep fucking me! I need you so bad,” You beg, growing so desperate you try and reach around to shove his cock back inside. He takes joy in the way you whimper, a frown on your face as tears well in your eyes.

“Only good girls get to cum.” He tosses you on the bed, leaving your swollen pussy exposed. He hovers over you, a large hand pushing one of your legs back to get a good view at your slick folds. Without warning his slaps your pussy, the stinging sensation making your body jolt. Then he does it again, and again. It felt so good, but hurt so bad. It was almost just enough to make you cum. You’re whimpering, legs quivering as you stare up at his large figure. His hand comes in contact with your sensitive cunt again, your lips now puffy. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You’ll get off to anything just to cum.”

“I’m a good girl, I swear!” You pout, gasping when his fingers ghost over your clit before he removes them.

“I don’t think you are, sweetheart,” he sighs. “Now sit here and have fun trying to get yourself off. You don’t deserve my cock,” he says, all while he did it on purpose just to see those tears in your eyes and to hear your pleas to cum, squirming and becoming a needy whore. It was all apart of his plan.

repost from my original account

[jjunieworld]

EYES ROLL ˒˒ 송민기

in which your boyfriend mingi begs you to climb on top of him while having sex and ride him until he finishes.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ song mingi x fem!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 none!

genre﹙📄﹚⸝⸝⸝ pure smut, established relationship

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ unprotected sex (safety first!), handjob, some dom/sub dynamics(?), riding, creampie, petnames (baby), some praise

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ going feral for mingi after how good he looked at coachella like i’m clawing at the bars on my enclosure at how everybody was looking at my man… this was inspired by the song eyes roll by gidle! ♡ love my girls,,, i hope you enjoy!! all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

∿ [ 0.6k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

mingi kept shifting in front of you as you continuously pumped up and down on his cock. the two of you were on your shared bed, you between mingi’s outstretched legs. you were supposed to be in the middle of an argument right now, but you couldn’t resist how sexy mingi was when he was mad.

soft moans escaped his lips and filled your ears, which turned you on even more. you looked up at mingi with a raised eyebrow and started pumping him more slowly, “are you trying to hold it in?” mingi responded with a barely audible whimper and you let go of him completely.

“p-please, baby, i need to feel you around me,” mingi whined as he took your hands and pulled you towards him. you ended up straddling him, his stiff cock brushing against your bare stomach. instead of replying, you glared at him.

“it’s not the same when it’s just your hand, and you know i can barely cum without you wrapped around me,” mingi tried to justify. you sighed and rolled your eyes at him.

mingi cupped your cheek and brushed his thumb across it softly, “are you still mad? sorry, baby, i didn’t mean—“ you cut him off by placing your hands flat on his chest and pushing him down on the bed. you climbed further up him and grabbed his cock to line up up with your wet entrance.

“shut up,” you hissed. you didn’t want to hear about the reason the two of you were arguing before. all you wanted in this moment was to feel mingi’s cum fill you up. slowly, you sank down inch by inch onto him and felt how he stretched out your pussy.

mingi’s hand came to your hips and he gripped them tightly to get you to start moving. placing your hands on his chest again, you started rocking back and forth at a steady pace. mingi cursed lowly under his breath as he watched you look down at him.

you whimpered from how good he felt inside you and the power trip of you looking down on him made you move faster. it didn’t take long for mingi to fall apart, he was already halfway there from just your hand anyway. his warm cum poured into you as you rode him, the white liquid creating creamy wet sounds.

“a-ah… fuck,” mingi murmured and threw his head back onto the pillows. he already pissed you off today, and you two definitely weren’t leaving this bed until you had your release too. “you feel so good,” mingi added lowly.

your pussy clenched around him and you pushed your thighs tighter together around his hips. your fingernails dug into his chest and you made your hips keep moving, throwing your head back at the overwhelming sensations taking over your body.

the rope finally snapped and your warm cum dripped down mingi’s softening cock and onto his lower stomach as you slid off of him. you laid down onto his chest and his arms came to wrap around your back. “are we okay now?” mingi asked sheepishly.

you giggled a little, “fine… i guess we are.” mingi accepted your answer and pressed sweet kisses onto your hairline. he was lucky you were so nice.

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @yeonjunsfox @rapmonie2047 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @jeonghaniehaee 

∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ]

[strawchocoberry]

02:45 am 

You’re buried in the pillow, yeah, you’re so loud… But I’m about to show you, baby, slow down…

You know he isn’t particularly pleased with your little sex ban. “No Nut November, what bullshit,” he mumbles, cuddling you to sleep. And as you fall asleep, you think you’re safe. But that couldn’t be far from the truth. He tries to simply go to sleep, but you just have to be a fucking tease and grind your little ass against him, his cock springing to life immediately. An eye for an eye. He teases you, groping your breasts and fingering your pussy until you’re finally awake from your deep slumber, eyes heavy with sleep yet filled with lust. You beg him to fuck you and who is he to deny you? “What a slut,” he mocks you, as he fucks you from behind, your face buried in your pillow. “Couldn’t even last two hours of your little sex ban.” He leans closer, his hand choking your neck as he turns you to the side. “But this is better, don’t you think?” 

michael kaiser . shidou ryusei . itoshi sae . karasu tabito . barou shoei . oliver aiku . noel noa . hoshina soshiro . narumi gen . ichikawa reno . kaguragi aoi . mudano naito . momoka tsukuyomi . yodogawa masumi . momokado ousuke . kaji ren . hiragi toma . togame jo . endo yamato . hayato suo . zaraki kenpachi . kyoraku shunsui . sebastian michaelis . ronald knox . gilgamesh . cú chulainn . diarmuid ua duibhne . achilles . tartaglia . alhaitham . kaeya . ayato . wriothesley . jing yuan . blade . jiaoqiu . moze + your favourites

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work

[juniperskye]

I Can’t Do This.

Sneak peek: Reader is recently off of a long-term undercover operation (similar to Emily’s) that left her in a bad way. Director Cruz reaches out, assigning her to the BAU. After speaking to her therapist and expressing her concerns, they come up with a solution of how to inform her new boss of some of the horrors she endured on her mission. Hotch keeps a close eye on her, being careful not to trigger her…until one day, he accidentally does in the worst way. ITALLICS ARE FLASHBACKS! BOLD ARE THERAPY SESSIONS.

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) BAU! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5605

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI,YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. age gap (reader is in their 20’s and Hotch is in his 40’s), explicit language, mention of canon typical violence, mention of therapy, reader attends regular therapy sessions, mention of a toxic previous “relationship”, mention of a previous dom/sub dynamic, murder, talk of trafficking, forced consent (reader is working the undercover op) mention of previous abuse and manipulation, some use of y/n, Hotch accidentally triggering the reader, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Y/n it has been three months since you returned from your undercover op, it’s time. The BAU needs an additional agent, and you’d make a great addition. It’s really not up for discussion.” Director Cruz ended with finality.

“I really don’t think I am ready. Director Cruz, I know it has been three months, and you guys have been so gracious with the paid leave, but I’m still working through everything I went through when I was under.” You explained.

“Your therapist and the FBI issued psych eval have both cleared you to return y/n. You’re joining the BAU. You’ll begin next Monday.” Cruz decided.

“Okay.”

With that you stood and exited his office. It’s not that you didn’t want to work for the BAU, in fact, under normal circumstances you’d have been begging for this placement. But after everything you endured while undercover, you weren’t sure you could handle being on a team, especially not one run by Aaron Hotchner.

--

“You were recommended to me by Sheri, did she tell you anything about me?” He questioned.

“She mentioned you were looking for someone who knew how to follow rules.” You answered.

You had been assigned to an undercover operation in which a very powerful man would finally be brought to justice. Emilio Alvatorre, one of FBI’s most wanted. This man did unspeakable things and lucky for you, he was in the market for a new submissive. Normally the FBI wouldn’t jump at putting an agent in this kind of situation, however, in this case Emilio was known to keep his subs knelt at his side in his office. That would mean that you would be privilege to information that could take him down.

“So, are you good at following rules?” Emilio said in a voice meant to be sexy, but it was truly repulsive.

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, “The best.”

--

“I’m worried that Agent Hotchner is going to give me a directive and that I will follow it whether I agree with it or not. I am terrified that I have completely lost myself, and that I will just blindly follow.” You explained.

“Y/n we’ve talked about this, you are strong, you are capable of making decisions and speaking up for yourself.”

“Yeah but being at the BAU with Agent Hotchner, he’s a very commanding and dominant man, what if I fall right back into…” You trailed off.

“He is commanding and dominant, but he isn’t Emilio. I am going to give you some homework, and then I’d like to see you again on Thursday so we can go over it before you join the BAU Monday.”

“You’re right. What’s the homework?” You asked.

“I want you to first come up with a list of coping strategies for when you begin to feel anxious or overwhelmed on the job. Then I want you to write a letter to read to Agent Hotchner giving him some insight as to what you have been through.”

“Absolutely not! Sylvia I can’t do that!”

“Y/n I am not asking you to give him all the details, just a little bit that might help him to know you.”

“Fine.”

--

You had a hard time figuring out what to put in the letter to Agent Hotchner, debating what was too much versus what was too little to say. How much did he need to know, how much were you comfortable sharing…it was all becoming a bit much.

Ultimately, you’d written something up along with a perfect list of coping strategies that you knew would satisfy your therapist.

After meeting with her on Thursday and going over what you came up with, and allowing her to help you tweak a few things, your body filled with dread, anxiously awaiting Monday morning when you’d have to go into the BAU.

--

Director Cruz escorted you to the floor that houses the BAU, bringing you into Agent Hotchner’s office for introductions. You felt like you had just walked out on a stage completely naked with the way all the other agents were looking at you.

“Hotchner, this is Agent y/n. I sent over her file last week. She is going to start with the BAU today.” Director Cruz announced.

“Yes, I saw your email. It is nice to finally meet you.” Agent Hotchner greeted.

“Y/n would you excuse us for just a moment, I’d like to speak to Hotch here.”

Without another word you followed the director’s order. You stepped out of the office and stood patiently waiting for their conversation to end.

--

“She’s anxious.” Spencer mumbled.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Emily replied.

“No, look at her, she’s digging her nails into her palms, a light sweat has broken out on her neck, her heartrate has increased slightly, and she hasn’t looked up at us once. She’s probably suffering from severe anxiety.” Spencer rambled.

“Don’t profile the newbie Spence.” Emily scolded, patting his shoulder.

--

“Alright, y/n go on in and Hotch will fill you in on what his expectations for you are.” Director Cruz headed off.

With a light knock, you awaited Agent Hotchner’s approval before entering his office once again. Mentally chastising yourself for your submissive actions.

“Agent y/n, please, have a seat.” Hotch gestured.

You sat in one of the chairs across from him.

“It says here in your file that you’re recently returning from a twelve-month assignment. I noticed the assignment isn’t labeled as classified, but quite a bit of it was redacted. Can you speak on that at all?” Hotch inquired.

“Agent Hotchner, if it is okay with you, I have somethings I’d like to discuss. Some of which is relevant of that case, but it is primarily regarding the effects that case had on me.”

“Go ahead.” Hotch nodded.

“The undercover op I was working put me in a position in which I was forced and manipulated to blindly following directions from someone. I had to do this for twelve months, and since then, I have had a pretty hard time finding my voice again. Certain things can be triggering for me, so I wrote up some things for you, with the help of my therapist. There are coping strategies that I may need to utilize and there are somethings there for you, to navigate situations that may come up.” You were worried that this was all going to lead to Hotch doubting your ability to do this job. “I also want to make it known that I told the Director that I wasn’t ready to return to work.”

“Thank you for sharing this, I think it’ll help me to make your transition back to work smooth. As for you being ready, I think you sharing that information shows a lot about your strength and I think you are more than ready to be here.”

--

“Kneel.” Emilio ordered with a snap of his fingers.

You slowly dropped to your knees, sitting back on your heels and resting your palms on the tops of your thighs, your gaze focused on the frayed rug that covered the hardwood floor in front of you.

“Bring him in.” Emilio spoke into the intercom that connects him to his security.

The guards drag in a man who appears to be near death, clearly beaten. Emilio rests a hand on your head, gently petting your hair before speaking in a tone you don’t recognize.

“I heard you’ve been snooping around. Talking to Jeremy and his guys.” Emilio spat.

“I haven’t sir I swear!” The man was begging for his life.

“I don’t like snakes.” Emilio raised his gun and shot the man point blank.

You couldn’t help but flinch at the sound. A strong hand was quick to grip your chin.

“Flinching is a sign of weakness. I can’t have a pet that is weak.” His grip tightened “Are you weak?”

“No sir.” You reassured.

“Good.”

--

Working with the BAU had been going well, Hotch had truly been incredible. He’d encouraged you to share your thoughts and theories while on cases. He also reminded you to use your coping strategies when the cases became particularly overwhelming.

Like today for example. The team was working on a case that was taking a toll on you, mentally and emotionally. Women were being kidnapped then brutally tortured and left for dead in the street. It was becoming increasingly difficult to detach yourself from what these women must’ve been feeling.

Hotch was quick to notice the change in your demeanor and he made it a point to assign you with Spencer at the precinct. You were tightening up the victimology while Spencer worked on the geographical profile. You had come to the conclusion that the unsub was targeting victims primarily on their looks, they had all been of similar height, had same color hair and eyes. Worse than that…they all kind of looked like you. The sound of Derek and Emily approaching made your stomach sink. Spencer had clearly picked up on your anxiety since you’d been with the BAU, but the others, not so much.

“Hey guys, what did you find out?” Emily inquired.

“Well, I’ve narrowed down the geographical profile. This area right here…” Spencer gesture to the map covering the screen “this is his comfort zone, all the abductions and dumpsites fall within this five-block radius.”

“What about you new girl?” Derek nudged you gently.

“I looked into all the victims, and they all were approximately the same height and build, same color hair and eyes. I spoke to Penelope; she confirmed that all of the women frequented the same coffee shop.” You explained.

Hotch, Rossi, and JJ all entered just in time to hear Derek confirm your thoughts…which led to a suggestion that made your heart sink.

“Y/n these girls all kind of look like you...” Derek walks over to where their pictures are pinned up to the board. “Maybe we should send you to the coffee shop undercover. It could help us find this guy.”

You heart was pounding, causing a loud whooshing sound to drown out your hearing. You closed your fists and dug your nails into your palms. You could feel the sweat breaking out along your forehead.

In and out…deep breaths. You reminded yourself of the coping strategies you’d come up with for instances like this. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

“Absolutely not!” Hotch commanded, shaking you from your thoughts while simultaneously distracting the others from your very obvious panic attack.

“Hotch man come on! She fits the victimology perfectly; it could end this case if she could catch his attention.” Derek argued.

“It’s not up for discussion. I will not send a new agent undercover, not until she is more comfortable on this team. Undercover ops like that require a significant level of trust, one that she may not have yet.” Hotch shut Derek down.

“We know he must go to this coffee shop; JJ and I could go in and watch. Keep an eye out for a man acting suspicious.” Emily suggested.

“Good, first thing tomorrow.” Hotch said before dismissing the team for the evening.

--

“Sir, is it safe to be talking about this…with her here?”

“Are you questioning me?” Emilio sneered. “My pet is well behaved. I wouldn’t have her here if I thought otherwise. Who are you to question my decisions?” His voice raised.

“I’m sorry sir! I didn’t mean to insinuate anything. I just wasn’t sure.”

“Don’t let it happen again. Now I’ll ask again. What is the update on the shipment?” Emilio demanded.

“There are going to be three crates in the shipping container. The boat is set to anchor Friday at midnight.”

“And everything we were promised will be there?” Emilio asked.

“Well, not the girls. This shipment is just the weapons.”

“Excuse me?” Emilio’s expression turned sinister.

You were knelt by his desk like always. This conversation had been one you were banking on; it was hopefully going to allow your team to pick him and his associates up. Only, this conversation had taken a turn that you weren’t expecting. His shipments thus far had only contained drugs and weapons, so why was he asking about girls?

“I was assured that everything would be included. How fucking hard is it to follow orders?” Emilio shouted, his fist slamming onto his desk.

You sat still, silently taking in the situation. That night you’d check in with your team and fill them in on the new information. You just needed to get the logistics of when the second shipment would arrive, and honestly, you were scared Emilio would kill this guy before you got that information.

“I know boss. They told me that the girls would be here soon. There was an issue getting paperwork for some of them. But it should all be worked out now.”

“I need a date and time. By the end of the day. Otherwise, you’re done.” Emilio hissed. He then brushed his hand over your head. “C’mon pet, let’s go to bed. And you, I’ll be expecting your call.”

Going to bed with Emilio had initially been the worst part of this assignment. Thankfully he’d had you STD tested which meant you were both clean, and he’d ensured you received birth control shots. The sex had surprised you; you had expected it to be rough and painful but, it had been soft and gentle. Emilio whispered sweet nothings to you, and he held you close, and he’d carefully bathe you afterwards.

It may be sick and twisted…but it didn’t bother you, having sex with him.

--

A light knock at your door had startled you. You made your way over to check the peephole, and there he was waiting patiently.

“Hotch, is everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that. Morgan was out of line suggesting we send you in.”

“It’s okay, really. He doesn’t know any better.”

Hotch gave you a sympathetic look. You could tell he was doing everything in his power not to profile you. You appreciated his effort, and it truly was endearing. Around Hotch, you’d started to feel more comfortable around him and his consistent care of you and your mental health had been the thing that drew you in. He cared so much, and it meant the world to you.

“You seemed nervous earlier, does that have to do with the undercover assignment you worked?”

“Yes.”  You sighed.

In the last two months of being with the BAU, you and Hotch had been teetering this fine line of coworkers and more. It wasn’t necessarily leaning toward something romantic, at least that’s what you were both trying to convince yourselves of but, it had definitely become a friendship. Hotch had allowed you a safe space in which you were starting to feel like yourself again. He had never pushed you for information about your past and he continuously checked in with you to make sure you were comfortable and okay. More recently though, as things like what happened today occurred, you have felt like maybe you should tell Hotch a little more about what you endured.

“You know, if you ever want to talk about it, I am here for you. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like you have to tell me anything! But if you should choose, I’d listen.” Hotch admitted.

“I was sent in undercover to investigate Emilio Alvatorre…” You began.

“Emilio Alvatorre? He was one of FBI’s most wanted! Lucrative arms dealer, importing drugs…I heard he was ultimately brought down for sex trafficking.” Hotch was stunned.

“Yeah, that was me. Emilio took part in a certain lifestyle; he is a dominant and he was seeking a new submissive…and I guess I fit the bill. He essentially owned me, and he referred to me as his pet. It was my job to follow his orders blindly, and I did.”

“What was it like?” Hotch questioned.

“Well…

--

“Good morning pet.” Emilio purred pressing a kiss right below your ear.

“Mmm, good morning sir. Can I make you breakfast?” You offered.

“No darling, the cook will prepare our meal. I think it is sweet you still ask.” His kisses travelled down your neck.

“Do you have meetings today?” You inquired.

“Today is all about you pet. We are going to get you some new clothes, shoes, and maybe a new necklace. I want to spoil you today! We are celebrating!” Emilio gushed.

It was the moments like this that fucked with your mind the most. Emilio could be so kind and gentle, he wanted to take care of you and in the time you’d been with him, it had been increasingly easier to let him. But then there were moments when he turned dark…the other side of him came to light and you couldn’t help but question your mind.

“Boss…” Emilio’s associate barged into the office, only to find you bent over his desk while he pounded into you from behind.

“Not now!” Emilio growled.

“But boss!” This guy really couldn’t take the hint.

Emilio wasn’t one who took well to being interrupted, in any aspect of his life. So, when this associate decided what he had to say was more important than Emilio’s time…you knew it would be bad.

Emilio’s hips never faltered, not upon the initial interruption and certainly not when he leaned to the side, grabbed his gun, and shot the man standing in the doorway. You pinched your eyes shut, knowing better than to react to the horrific sight before you. Emilio continued thrusting, his grunts becoming more erratic, and when he finally finished, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

“Go run a hot bath. Get in and wait for me. I need to go see about this issue and get this cleaned up.” Emilio stated as he assisted you in standing upright.

“Yes sir.”

--

“It was really hard for me to deal with the two sides of him. I became confused and my mind was so foggy as to whether or not he was truly awful. And I know that so much of that is the manipulation of being his submissive, but I was with him for a year, it was easy to forget what things had been like before Emilio.” You trailed off.

“I can’t even imagine all the things you must’ve seen and gone through in that time. I can understand why you weren’t sure about joining the BAU initially…but I am really glad you did.” Hotch expressed, placing his hand atop your own.

“I’m glad I did too.”

--

The next morning Emily and JJ were sent into the coffee shop that all the victims frequented, and they couldn’t track the unsub. Either he was far too subtle, or he hadn’t shown up. The team was currently in the precinct trying to figure out the next steps, when Derek suggested it again.

“I still think y/n should go undercover, it’s our best bet in finding this guy. What do you say new girl?”

You were taken aback; your mind was screaming at you to decline. You weren’t ready for this, going undercover, blindly following team orders. It’s for the greater good though, isn’t it?

“I could do that.”

“Morgan, I already said it’s not happening. She isn’t ready.” Hotch commanded.

“Hotch, we have all had to go undercover. There is no reason that she can’t go into the coffee shop and order a freaking latte. We will all be there to keep her safe, just like any other case!” Morgan was practically shouting.

“It’s okay. I can do it.”

“Y/n you don’t have to do this. Not if you aren’t comfortable.” Hotch was obviously trying to profile you based on his expression.

“I’m okay. I’ll do it.”

--

You were ordering a coffee, meanwhile Spencer was sitting in the back of the café reading a book and Rossi was in line, about three patrons behind you. Hotch insisted on sitting at a table just outside the entrance to keep a close eye on everyone coming and going. JJ, Derek, and Emily were all in the surveillance van parked across the street, waiting for the signal.

After you received your coffee, you found a seat at an empty table. It wasn’t long before a man approached you. He was tall and clearly strong; he had a very sinister aura that gave you the chills.

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked.

“Oh, sure.” You agreed.

The man sat, but only after he moved the chair closer to you. He was talking to you, but you were having a hard time listening. You were silently begging the guys to come to help and get him away from you.

“You know, you’re really pretty. Why don’t we get out of here? We could go get lunch.” The man suggested.

“Oh, I’m not sure I should.”

“C’mon, be a good girl and get up.” His tone became more aggressive.

You stood up without a second thought, much to the unsub’s delight. He grabbed your arm in a bruising grip and began leading you out of the café.

“They’re on the move. Why is she going with him? This wasn’t the plan.” Derek exclaimed.

Hotch’s demeanor instantly changed. After you opened up to him about your previous assignment, he understood now why you had seemingly always followed orders willingly, only your willingness had been conditioned. Instilled in you through the manipulation of a very dangerous man.

“I got it.” Hotch

Hotch stood up and turned abruptly, purposefully plowing into you and the unsub. He made a move that shifted you away from the unsub and placed himself between you.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” Hotch feigned innocence.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Watch where you’re going asshole. Let’s get out of here.” The unsub reached for your arm once more.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.”

“You want to bet?”  he said, pulling a gun from his waistband and pointing it directly at your head.

You didn’t flinch, in fact you didn’t move a muscle. All the while everyone else sprung into action. Hotch tried to talk him down while the rest of the team surrounded him on all sides. You had stood there completely disassociated while this man threatened your life and ultimately met his untimely end via Emily’s weapon.

--

“Y/n would you please come to my office?” Hotch requested.

You silently followed Hotch to his office. You were wringing your hands, hoping that he wouldn’t reprimand you for your behavior today. You couldn’t handle disappointing people.

“You didn’t even flinch. You had a gun pointed at you and you didn’t even blink. You also willingly left the café with him, which was not a part of the plan we had discussed.” Hotch stated, his tone calm.

“I’m sorry Hotch. He told me to get up and I just…I wasn’t sure what to do. I know we needed to catch the guy.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.” Hotch admitted. “I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt. I also don’t want you to agree to do things simply because someone tells you to. Like agreeing to go undercover.”

“I don’t know how to do that. Disagree I mean. I’m not sure I have that in me anymore.” You did everything in your power to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Y/n I’m not disappointed. I do think that it is very important you continue to work with your therapist.”

“I will.”

--

“…and I just stood there.”

“Y/n you we conditioned for over a year to sit still when any sort of firearm was shot, you watched people die right in front of you. You were covered in their blood and forced to remain kneeling until instructed otherwise. I can’t say I am entirely surprised that you didn’t react to having a weapon pointed at you. What does surprise me though was that you agreed to going undercover.” Sylvia finished.

“I knew it was our best option to finding this unsub. I fit the victimology, and I was able to fish him out. It was a no-brainer.” You shrugged.

“Now that sound like someone making a rational decision.” Sylvia smirked.

“Yeah well, after the case Hotch called me out and I felt like a child being scolded. I could barely hold back tears.”

“Why do you think that is?” She pressed.

“I don’t know. I guess, I’m afraid of not being good enough and worse, disappointing him.”

“The only person you should be worried about disappointing is yourself. Y/n you have made huge strides in the last five months and as long as you stay true to yourself, you will continue to do so.”

--

The months went on, as did the cases and your therapy sessions. Oddly enough, you had started to feel more like yourself. Things with the BAU have started to become easy, you were opening up little by little to the others and you were getting better at making your own decisions.

Hotch had also noticed the change. It had warmed his heart to see you really coming into your own, to really get to know the real you. Which had only strengthened his feelings toward you, causing him to work extra hard to shove them down. Rossi knew simply from the look Hotch gave you, but that’s a story for another time.

The team had been working back-to-back cases all over the country for the last few weeks. It had been exhausting and the team were getting to a point where everyone was snippy. Lack of sleep had led to a horrible lack of patience, and the local officers weren’t making matters any better.

“What if we were wrong, I think the unsub is a woman. I mean look at the attention to detail in the clean up and at how the bodies were presented.” You offered.

“Y/n could be right; a woman would take the time to be precise and it would explain the…”

Before Spencer could finish his thought, Officer Riley decided to provide his own theories.

“There is no way it is a woman. They don’t have the courage to take care of people like this. That’s why the statistic proves that the unsub is a man.”

“With all due respect, women are just as capable of murder as men, and when they do it they are often far more meticulous which is why that fits better here.” You explained.

“Well, with all due respect ma’am, I’ve been doing this job longer than you could walk.”

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t bother hiding your surprise.

“All I’m saying sweetheart, is that perhaps you’d be better off getting us some coffee.” Officer Riley sneered.

“Last time I checked, I’m the one working for the FBI and not some Podunk little police station in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. So how about you back off and let us finish our…”

“Y/N TAKE A SEAT.” Hotch demanded.

Despite your shock at Hotch’s tone toward you, you took a seat without hesitation.

“Officer Riley, please let my agents do their work. We have much more important things to be doing than arguing about the duties of a woman.” Hotch chided.

“Well, you clearly agree with me given the fact that you gave her an order. If you’d been on her side you’d have probably told me off.” Riley turned to you, “and you clearly do know how to listen to a man in charge. Perhaps I misjudged you.”

With that, Riley made his leave with a low chuckle, and you sat there considering what had just happened. Hotch had commanded you to sit down knowing full well you’d comply, that way he could deal with Riley without you continuing to tell him off. He used what he knew about you against you, despite all the conversations you’ve had with him. Despite him knowing full well your fear of blindly following orders.

“I can’t believe you.” You stood up and walked out, heading straight for the precinct exit.

“Y/n wait!” Hotch followed you.

As you landed on the sidewalk just upon the exit, Hotch’s had made its way around your upper left arm in a desperate attempt to slow you down and hear him out. Only you were in no mood to listen to him or anyone else right now. All you felt was the sense of betrayal blooming in your chest.

As he swung you back around to face him, you did something that shocked even you. You right arm followed around, landing a harsh slap to Hotch’s cheek. Your breathing was ragged, a look of surprise painting your features…a look of guilt flooding Hotch’s.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” You paused.

“No, Y/n I am so sorry I shouldn’t have-” Hotch pleaded.

“I need to go. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” With that you left, calling a taxi, and heading back to the hotel.

--

“YOU STUPID BITCH! HOW COULD YOU?” Emilio Screamed, lunging toward you.

“Emilio I didn’t, I just…I”

Emilio wrapped his hand around your throat, harshly choking you as SWAT swarmed the shipyard. They quickly made their way to you, removing Emilio from his position over you. As they pulled him away you couldn’t help but watch him.

“Kneel Pet!” Emilio commanded.

You couldn't help but follow his order. Immediately dropping to your knees, resting your hands atop your thighs and letting your gaze fall to the ground.

“I will always own you! You will always be my pet, perfectly broken in!” Emilio hollered as they put him in the back of a vehicle.

“Y/n you’re okay, lets get you up and checked out.” Your unit commander suggested.

Only you didn’t move. You couldn’t get up, not without his permission.

That night, the paramedics had to sedate you to get you into an ambulance. And after that you were placed in a psychiatric facility for 30 days to help undo the brainwashing you’d endured.

--

“Sylvia, I slapped him. My boss, I slapped him right in the face!”

“Y/n you reacted to a situation and based on what you just explained to me, it seems like he knew he was in the wrong. You shouldn’t be blaming yourself and honestly, you should talk to him.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Maybe tell him how you feel.” Sylvia suggested.

--

You spent the afternoon practicing what to say to Hotch, Spencer had been texting you updates of that case as it progressed. He’d let you know that they caught the unsub and were headed back to the hotel. So, as you opened your door to make your way to his room, you came face-to-face with the man himself.

“Hotch.”  You gasped.

“Y/n can we talk?”

You moved aside to allow him access to your room. You couldn’t help but feel nervous about the conversation that was to come.

“Hotch, I am so sorry for slapping you! I was just-”

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. Y/n I am so sorry, I heard you going off on Riley and I knew that if you kept talking he’d report you and I’d be forced to suspend you, only I hadn’t considered the effect that me demanding you take a seat would have on you. I need you to know it was not my intention to take advantage of you like that and even worse, I shouldn’t have put my hand on you the way I did. You had every right to slap me.” Hotch explained.

“You were trying to protect me?”

“Riley had made threats of reporting our staff for going against orders of the precinct. I knew that he’d report you for your behavior, despite him clearly being in the wrong. I didn’t want to suspend you.”

“I didn’t realize. But Hotch telling me to take a seat, in the tone you did, it felt like I was right back there. Following orders without thinking. With you, I can’t explain it, I would do anything you asked me to and that terrifies me. My feelings for you only add to that need to do anything you say, to do anything to please you. I can’t help it.”

“You have feelings for me?”

“Aaron! Is that all you took from what I just said?”

“Please say that again.” He whispered.

“Aaron.”

He let his eyes close and took a deep breath. You could tell he was holding back and though part of you was begging you to walk away, the other was telling you to jump in. You thought about what Sylvia would say, and you couldn’t help but release a breathy laugh, knowing full well that she would tell you that only you can make the right decision, and it is okay to trust yourself.

“Aaron, I am terrified…and it is going to take me some time to fully trust myself again, but I really like you and if you’re up for it, I’d like to give this a shot. Unless you don’t feel the same way, then please ignore what I just said an-”

Aaron pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss. One that told you everything you needed to know.

“I’m scared too, but I want to try this Y/n. I know that you’re still working to find yourself, I am willing to wait if that is what you need, but I am also willing to be by your side every step of the way.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

[ramonathinks]

ALL HE WANTS — EREN x BLK!READER

tags: 18+ (no minors/no blank blogs — you will be blocked), shotgunning, sex, kinda friends to lovers, established relationship (towards the end), oral (f!), making out, sexual tension, eren has a tongue piercing and dimples, fingering, dirty talk, reader is black, mutual pining, dry humping, unprotected sex, dubcon (both a little buzzed on weed),

notes: this is a repost ofc but... i wasn't about to miss daddy's birthday lolll. (1)(2) “continue reading” divider by @/anitalenia 4.1k words ! + repost!

“When you gonna stop playing and let me be your man, baby?” Eren had his hands in his pockets and lent up against the wall, staring you down. The way he talked always made your body shiver, the way he looked deep into your eyes made you want to moan.

“Just gimme the weed, please.” You rolled your eyes at him. He was always like this — teasing you whenever he saw you all dolled up; tonight you wore a short peach colored dress that made your chest look even bigger, and his eyes kept glancing down constantly from your lips to your chest.

He probably kept looking at your lips because of how plump and bright they were decorated with the clear sticky fruity smelling lipgloss you always wore. Your hair was done in a wavy black hair done in a 32inch half up-half down that framed your face pretty well; and Eren tried to act like he didn’t realize it wasn’t the hairstyle he picked for you a while back.

Unintentionally he licked his lips before digging through his pockets for what he came over to deliver. Normally he didn’t hand deliver anything, he made people come to him, but this was you.

Sweet smelling you who always looked as good as you smelt and right now there was an aroma around you that smelled of nothing but strawberries and some other fruity smell that he couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t even just the fact that you smelled so good but rather the way you looked so good too, always with your hair done even your nails — long coffin shaped, pink and white acrylic with little designs on them — and your face, bare or not your skin was always glistening rich brown.

He was always losing his focus when you were in the room. He handed you your weed and turned to leave. “Wait, here—”

He scoffed, “On the house.” He waved you off, he did this all the time, no matter how many times you begged him to just take the money.

“Eren!” Using his long legs to stroll out of the hallway and towards the apartment complex’s door. He almost made it out before he felt you tug at his arm, a deep pout on your face.

“You’ll get wrinkles. Don’t…” He caressed the area between your eyebrows and trailed down to your jaw — taking it in his hands and squeezing it, making your pout deeper before he let it go.

“Just here, okay? I’m grateful you don’t make me pay since we’re friends,” That definitely wasn’t the reason, but he didn’t say anything. “But just take it. I can pay, you know I can.” Your eyelids fluttered innocently.

He sniffled, “Fine. Fine. Just this once.” He flicked your nose. Then Eren looked at you, truly looked at you and smiled a bit. You were really too cute. “Are you coming to Connie’s party in a few?”

“Yeah, I was actually just getting ready before you came.” You tell him, finally letting go of his arm.

“And that’s what you’re wearing?” He swallowed, biting his tongue. He sounded so judgmental that your eyes widened before you looked down at yourself.

It was cold yes but you always chose being cute over being cold, plus you were always being driven around so you weren’t even outside enough to feel the freezing cold air and it was only a small bit of occasional snow, nothing too bad.

“What’s wrong with it?” You craned your neck a bit to see your backside. Everything was in tact and in place.

Jealousy was already deep in his chest and tugging at his heart, making everything feel so tight around him. He just shook his head, “Nothing, just thinkin’ bout how cold it is, that’s all. But I know you already have a ride lined up, right?”

Playfully rolling your eyes you smirk, “Actually…” Twiddling with your fingers, he watches you already knowing where this was going. “I was hoping, you’d take me if you had a chance? Maybe?”

“Do I ever say no to you?” He asked, walking back down the hall with you towards your apartment again.

This wasn’t his first time inside of your apartment. But for some reason he couldn’t help but to be in awe. You lived in luxury — marble countertops, a wide double door silver fridge, a patio… he knew he couldn’t compare to the lifestyle your father already had you in.

He wish he could... but he couldn’t. He made enough on selling whatever he could but it was only enough for him, not a lifestyle like yours. He wouldn’t be able to provide for you like you needed. Even if he got a real good job, nothing could truly live up to your norm and he would hate for you to settle.

It was the reason that he never truly could actively pursue you like he wanted with a good conscience. How could he pursue you when you had everything you wanted and then some?

Even the fuzzy pink rug on your floor looked like it was worth a couple thousand. A glossy painting of you hung in the center of your living room and it caught his eye, the last time he was inside it wasn’t there.

“Isn’t it nice? Looks almost as cute as the real thing, Hm?” You teasing, putting a finger to your cheek.

He gave you a side eye with a smile so deep enough that you could see his dimple and it made your heart flutter.

You always thought he was cute just not boyfriend material. You weren’t even being judgmental but you heard about Eren long before you had met him. Just a boy who always wanted to get his dick wet and especially when he had pretty clients, you couldn’t take him serious. Even if you wanted to.

When he wasn’t being a flirt, he was a good friend, always came when you needed him, even if it was just for a ride. He was always so sweet and treated you better than any of your boyfriends.

“You think I should just settle for some pants instead of this then, huh?” You did a slight twirl. You could tell he really liked what you had on but just not today. Not where y’all was headed.

He clicked his teeth with his tongue, “Uhh…” He looked you over, his gaze lingering on all assets.

His knee was bouncing and he was getting up before he realized. He never been inside of your room, let alone your closet. So this was all new territory to him, yet he felt like he knew where everything was.

He don’t know why he loved seeing you in your pink moon boots but he knew he wanted to see them on you tonight. He peaked over his shoulder, looking at you briefly before looking over your closet again. “Hm,” He held out two different shirts, you chuckled.

“Maybe this one with the hearts to match the boots and then a nice mini skirt… not too short.” He knew how you liked to dress and you gave him a coy smile.

“Ya know what, Yeager? You’re cute.” You kissed his cheek before pushing him out the room to get dressed. You hate to admit you were feeling hot all over, most guys didn’t come into your room for anything but sex and even though you weren’t expecting him to come in and help you decide on something else he did. It was little. But more than you were used to.

Eren on the other hand, was trying not to palm his dick. Touching the soft fabric of your clothes and imagining them on your skin, had him gulping. He paced the living room before he heard small paws running up to him and yelping. A small bundle of golden tan fur ran up to him, scratching and sniffing the area around him.

“Princess!” You yelled, running out to get your little dog. “Sorry Eren, she loves new people. I thought she would stay sleep, but...” You coo and tap the floor so that she comes running. “I’ll put her up and then we can go.” You scoop her up.

He stops you, “Let me meet my baby’s baby.” He ushers her out of your hand and into his own, a deep smile on his face as she licks his fingers.

You ignore what he says and how it makes your stomach flutter, you just cross your arms and watch. “She’s the cutest.” He tells you, staring you down with a hooded gaze. “Let’s get going, ‘kay?”

You nod, heading to put her into a crate so she can sleep until you get back.

He waits for you, even when you lock up your apartment, he opens the car door for you. You don’t know why but you feel like everything’s going to change tonight.

And Eren can feel it too.

------

It isn’t until you’re already there that you realize his hand was on your thigh the entire car ride. His touch leaving a trail of hotness and when he finally parked, your eyes wouldn’t leave your thigh. Was it weird that you were already missing his touch against your skin?

You heard a few people greeting him as he caught up towards the house behind you, he nodded to a few and did a half wave to some others.

“Birthday boy Yeager, finally! Being late to your own party, really man?” Connie greeted him and your body froze.

Eren didn’t mention it was his birthday. Connie didn’t even mention it when he invited you. You frowned and moved closer before squeezing Eren’s side.

A slight yelp, “The fuck was that for?” He asked, looking down at you with furrowed brows.

“It’s your birthday and you didn’t tell me? You were selling me weed on your birthday, driving me to your birthday party and didn’t bother to mention it?”

“It…skipped my mind.” He muttered, scratching the back of his head.

“You didn’t tell your girl your birthday?” Connie snickered. “You didn’t want any birthday sex? Mannn—“

Eren lightly jabbed Connie’s arm, “You know we’re just friends.”

But really, who could tell? Whenever you both were together, you both always stood so close together, sometimes even with his hand on your waist. Deep long stares and only focusing on each other.

“Rightttttt.” Connie laughs and waves you and Eren down to the basement. “So while the party’s upstairs… our real party will be right here, just the gang you know…” He explained while you looked over the place.

A comfy basement with a long couch and two loveseats, a few white garden chairs. A bong on the table that sat in the middle and a few bottles of alcohol. “Sooo, where is everyone?” You raised your eyebrows, arms folded against your chest.

Connie thinks for a moment before raising a finger, pulling out his phone and calling someone. “Yeahhh, hello?” You and Eren shared a glance before looking back at Connie. “Fuck, you gotta be kidding me… no, no, it’s fine,” Connie does an awkward smile to you both. “Alright. Yeah. See you soon.” He sighs.

“Fuck, I gotta go. Sasha said she needs me to get her. Then Jean too and… yeah… basically I think all those fuckers need a ride.” He explains. “Please make yourselves comfortable down here or upstairs, whatever. I’ll just be right back.” He jogs up the stairs and closes the door.

You feel awkward just standing so you smooth out a place on the loveseat and sit down.

But of course you weren’t planning on Eren sitting next to you. Cramped up and all in your space, his legs spread wide with almost little room for your legs. You stare at him, “Seriously?”

He does a sly smile, “I can’t sit next to you? You gonna deny me all tonight huh?”

Remembering it was his birthday, you just let him. His arm over your shoulder and pulling you in. “Fine… fine.” You mutter, pulling out some of the weed you brought from him earlier.

“Hey…lemme roll that for you.” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, he just does it. The shiny piercing on his tongue showing itself as he licked up the paper.

You squeezed your thighs, just watching him. He pulled out a lighter from his pocket and with a few clicks, he lit your blunt and took one long drag from it, finally handing it to you.

“Thanks…” You brought it to your lips and his eyes burned into yours. You inhaled, smiling as you felt it come over you. You hummed to yourself, your hooded eyes watching him as he watched you.

“How you feelin’?” You heard him ask, your body humming and you leaned closer into his touch. Your head laying on his shoulder.

“Good.” You responded shortly. “Just really good.”

“I’m glad to hear that baby.” His voice sounded closer but you ignored it. You smoked the blunt again and when you went to exhale, he pressed his lips to yours, just a small peck.

Briefly, you would’ve missed it if your eyes weren’t open.

“Been wanting to do that all day.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay…” You swallowed. “You can do it again.”

It was all he needed. His hands grabbed your face gently and he pressed a small peck on your lips. Then again. His hands touch the skin of your thigh when he goes in a bit deeper. No more little kisses, he’s fully kissing you on the lips. “Must be the weed, hm? You’d never let me kiss you…fuck,” He sounds pissed but mainly at himself.

“I took like two puffs, I’m barely…buzzed. I just… I mean why not?” You ask aloud, looking at him. Maybe you were just tired of pretending that you didn’t want him. That you didn’t want this. You were horny and maybe a quick fuck to get him out of your system would be good for the both of you.

“You like playing with my heart huh? You know how I feel and…” He trails off. “You know I like you—“

“You don’t like me, you just wanna fuck me like everyone else.” You had a hard time believing that he had feelings for you, that he wasn’t like any of the others before him. You wave him off but he grabs your wrist.

He clicks his teeth before laughing, “No, no, no…Baby. You’re special to me. Just want you all to myself, always.”

You snort, “Yeah right…” But your body felt so hot and like you’re wearing too many clothes.

“Come sit on my lap pretty girl. Let me show you something.” He pats his lap and grabs your waist, tightly.

“Show me what?” You were curious but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to come back to being just friends if you did what he asked.

“How much I like you.” He lifted you with ease and in an instant, you were on him. You could feel just how big and hard he was under you. You swallowed, wrapping your hands around his neck.

“Well? Show me.” You smile, hotness rolling off the both of you in waves. He smiles before he brings you in and kisses you.

Moaning when he pulls you closer, jerking his hips up to yours. His hands exploring your body and his tongue enters your mouth, swirling around. Slipping his tongue in and out your mouth, sucking on yours. His hands traveling down your back until he gripped your butt, spreading and massaging them in his large palms before sliding them up and down your back.

He kisses the sides of your neck and you take another drag of the blunt, feeling your lungs expand and the sensation of his mouth and hands making you shiver. He grabs your hips and rolls his more into yours, the fabric of his denim jeans hitting your clit.

Breathing heavily you inhale and with shaky hands you pull him forward. Kissing him with the smoke still in your lungs, his cock throbbing in his pants, he’s trying not to be greedy but he wants you. Tracing up and down your shirt, slipping his fingers underneath.

He feels a bit giggly afterwards. With a dopey big grin on his face, “You’re so pretty. Like an angel.” You’re smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt but your pussy is pulsing and you need him.

“Eren… thank you. But I just… need… I need you to…Please just touch me. Please.” His hands roam again. His cock half hard in his pants and his hands on your hips, he makes you roll them against his again. You gape and gasp a bit, feeling how hard he is against your damp dainty panties.

His hands are under your skirt and he massages the bit of your butt and thighs, spreading and patting you. He kisses you full on the lip and sucks more on your tongue before pulling back, “You’re just so pretty.” His forehead is on yours and his eyes are eating you up.

Your clit pulses and throbs the more he rolls your hips against his and the way he’s digging his fingers into the skin of your butt and thighs, you’re groaning and sighing, “This feels so…” you wrap an arm around his neck. “Good.” You whisper in his ear and feel him shiver, you press small kisses up and down his neck. “You’re so hard…” You lick him, small and to the point. “Eren…I—“

“Shhh,” He stops your hips, that were now moving on their own. “Just keep doing what feels natural… what feels right. We can talk about all of this later. But now? Let me make you feel good, yeah? Wouldn’t you like that?”

And it’s the way that he says it, honestly, that makes your heart speed up and your panties even more wet before he slips them to the side.

“Holy shit, already? This wet, baby? Damn…” His fingers sticky just from a quick slip inside, your mouth open and your legs shaking. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” You hear the sweet sounds of him fingering you, the wet noises echoing in the dark room.

“Fuck,” He mutters, flexing his fingers and twisting them inside. You clamp down on him and he bits his lip before kissing you, trying to keep you both quiet.

You lifted his shirt a little, looking at his stomach as he breathes in and out, his stomach muscles flexing. You smile to yourself, helping him out of his shirt before you trail your hand up and down his muscular chest and stomach. A semi thick patch of hair from his stomach and disappears down into his pants catches your attention and with a deep gulp your fingers dance lightly on his stomach until they disappear into his pants.

His breath hitches, “Your hands are so…whew,” His eyes are closed when you touch him, stroking him. “So damn soft. Too damn soft.” His hips jerk up at the contact of your hand against him.

“Has anyone ever—?” He doesn’t say it but licks his lips and sucks at his teeth.

“No, never…” Boys were too interested in sex never foreplay or oral. Some never even looked at your pussy.

He huffed, “Idiots. Want you to sit on my face, okay?” He could feel you twitching and your body freeze up.

“You’re so weird you know that?” You squeeze at his tip and he whined a bit, taking your wrist and taking it out of his pants.

“Hey, been thinking about it forever.” He have, he liked being your friend but he always thought about what’s between your legs. He always felt so guilty for it, this ulterior motive of his.

With your skirt still on, you move to hover over him. He breathes you in and groans out a deep “Fuck.” His tongue soaked in spit but he grabs at your thighs and slurps at your swollen clit. The heavy scent of your aroma wafting around his face.

Your thighs shaking as you rock your hips against him, but he wants to take things slow. Your juices all over his mouth and even a bit on his nose. You hated how greedy you were being. His tongue flicking at your stick clit and sucking on your lips.

“Eren! Faster…faster, please.” The cold metal piercing brushed against your clit and had you seeing stars so clearly that you tugged at his dark hair.

He liked the way his name sounded rolling off your tongue, even the way your mouth looked when you said it. Your lips: a work of art and your voice a song. So to be the one who’s listening and the one giving you this pleasure? He couldn’t help but smile to himself. To revel in it.

He chuckles listening to the soft moans of your pleads and begging, “No need to beg, don’t you know you own me? I’m yours. I’ll do whatever you say.”

His voice made you clench and he pressed small kisses up your slit before stretching you apart, “Think I can see you getting all wet for me…” His tongue dives in and your toes curl as he licks around the insides of you. Sucking at your folds and diving inside of your wetness, he moved one of his hands from your thighs and rubbed with two fingers on your achy clit. You shuddered, biting your lips.

He smiles looking at your pussy, so wet and pretty before he dives back in. Really just wanting to be covered in your scent. He gives a few more sucks, your hips raising and thrashing against his face.

“Baby,” The breath of his deep chuckle hitting your pussy and you shiver. “I’m leaking in my pants. I need you. Badly.”

He took his time but he laid you out on the couch, looking at the amount of your arousal that ran down your legs. He watched your pussy twitch, using his fingers he spread you open, clenching around the cool empty air. “Fuck,” you already looked fucked out and he haven’t even been inside of you yet.

Sliding his thick cock between your wet folds he felt you tremble. Tapping the head against your clit, he felt you jolt and he slowly slid inside of you. Your walls sucking him in and squeezing him tightly.

He groans, almost collapsing on top of you and you dig your nails into his back, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Wanted you for so long.” He kisses you quick and laced your fingers together, squeezing your hand. “It’s so wet inside of you, feels so fucking good.” Stretching and carving your insides to only fit his shape. Everything sounded underwater as he continued to pound inside of you. “You’re so perfect. So pretty. Fuck.” He angled his hips before thrusting faster inside of you. “So tight, so pretty, so mine.” He purred, licking up your throat and sucking; leaving a trail of hickies in his wake.

“Eren, oh god.” You breathe, worked up. He brings your legs from his waist and bring them closer to your head, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you.

“Think I’m in love withchu…” His thrusts are strong and now your feet dangling over your head, you couldn’t think straight. “But I think you already know that, hm? Think you love having me wrapped about your fingers.” Meeting every thrust he made, you felt a small bit of squirt splash and soak up his cock as he pulled it out before plunging back inside of you.

Your stomach is twisting and your toes curl heavenly as his dick continues, you push at his chest. “Wait! Eren…I…” You feel even more pressure in your gut and clench around him. “Please… no more.”

Your eyes are watery but Eren doesn’t care, instead he uses the pads of all his fingers and do deep aching rubs on your clit. Writing his name in your clit with your fingers, your thighs shake and then you’re finally cumming all over him and with a few more hard thrusts, he follows with a deep groan of your name.

He lays on top of you for a second to catch his breath before kissing you again. “I like you. Always have.” He huffed.

You bite back a smile. “I like you too…” You tell him shyly.

He gets up and hands you your pretty panties with a smug look. “So will you be my girlfriend?”

You chuckle, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend Eren.”

All Eren could think of was that this was his best birthday in a long while. He peppering kisses over your face.

“Alright… birthday boy, put some pants on.” You snicker, looking at his lower half, he was already getting back hard.

“Oh right.” He kissed you again.

[moonchild9350]

Bows, Lilac, and Kittens

Summary: Han doesn’t think he’s needy, unlike what his band mates believe, but that all changes when he sees you in his favorite type of lingerie.

Pairing: established relationship idol Han x fab reader

Genre: smut 18+ MDNI

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: pussy job, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), cum tasting.

Notes: idk I think Jisung would be into this haha I hope you like it! If so consider a reblog, comment, and like ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

“Babe, do you think I’m needy?”

Your boyfriend Jisung had just walked through the door, screaming the question as he made his way to your bedroom. You stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around your body since you were fresh out of the shower. You looked at Jisung, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, a pout on his face, making his cheeks seem bigger. He had his arms crossed, as he looked at you with his big boba eyes, as he awaited your answer.

“No, of course not baby,” you replied as you walked over to your dresser, pulling out a pair of panties and a shirt.

You pulled the shirt over your head and then slid one leg and then the other through your panties, pulling them up over your hips, the band snapping in place as they settled over your ass. You wanted to tease Jisung, to prove a point. Your boyfriend thought he wasn’t needy, but that was far from the truth, especially in the bedroom. Proving your point, you heard Jisung let out a whimper, your head immediately turning to look at the man after hearing the sound.

His eyes were trained on your ass, his mouth open. Anyone would say he was enamored with the flesh, not too flat but a nice roundness to the globes, but you knew better. Yes, you know Jisung loves every part of you, but there was one thing that drove him crazy, bringing out the neediness in him. That was your panties and not just any panties, but the ones you kept that were cute more than sexy, little patterns decorated across the fabric and a little bow in the center.

You looked down and noticed what panties you had chosen this time, a smirk forming across your face. The fabric was a soft lilac with little kittens littered across them, a little pink bow on the band. Looking up, you took in how Jisung wiggled in place, his eyes never leaving your pelvis. You felt your pussy clench at the attention, his gaze turning you on.

“Mmmm,” you said, slowly walking towards your lover, “maybe you’re a little needy after all.”

Jisung was practically drooling, his mouth open, and eyes wide. You noticed the tent in his pants, watching as he let out yet another whimper.

“Wanna see more?” You teased, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

Jisung nodded his head, his hair flopping up and down obscuring his eyes. He pushed the hair out of his face and looked up at you.

“Yes, yes please,” he begged.

You giggled at his desperation before pulling your shirt up, your panties on display. You were dripping, your arousal seeping into the material. Jisung gripped your waist suddenly and yanked you toward him, burying his face in your pelvis, as he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent.

He placed kiss after kiss along your mound before dipping his head lower and darting his tongue out, the tip of the muscle brushing against your clothed clit. You jerked at the sensation, your hands gripping your shirt tighter as Jisung continued to lick the bud. You felt more slick gush into your panties as you slowly rocked your hips, fucking yourself on his tongue.

You tossed your head back, lost in the pleasure Jisung was giving you, the warm feeling spreading throughout your belly. You felt you could cum like this, the feeling close, the band expanding in your belly letting you know sweet bliss was close. But, before you could open your mouth to let him know, he pulled himself back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to the material of your panties.

Jisung groaned, looking at the mess he made, the material soaked and sticking to your skin. Without warning he yanked you onto the bed and spread your legs.

“Take your shirt off baby,” he said breathlessly as he slid his sweats and boxers down, his cock springing free of its confines.

You slid your shirt up and over your head, your tits on display for the man above you. You spread your legs wider as he stepped in between them, eyes glued to your covered core, stroking his cock.

“You’re soaked baby,” he groaned, reaching out his finger to press the material of your panties to your core.

Shivering at his touch, you replied, “all for you Sungie.”

“All for me,” he whispered, grasping his cock once more to drag it through your covered folds.

You let out a moan, grasping the sheets below as he slid his cock again and again through the fabric. You were dripping, your slick soaking the panties creating a sheer effect. Each stroke of his cock slipped against your clit, the tip kissing the swollen bud over and over.

Jisung let out a strangled cry, before he shifted your panties to the side, slipping his cock beneath the material. He pressed the hard appendage down, the head slipping through your thick folds, causing a squelching sound to be heard.

“Ohh my god, babe,” Jisung moaned out as he frantically began to thrust his hips, pressing his shaft to glide through your folds. Your breath kicked up, as the pleasure increased, that sensation building up once more in your belly. You moaned out as Jisung whimpered, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on fucking your lips.

“Look at that baby,” he managed to breathe out, “your soaking, can see my cock between your cute little folds.”

You looked down, your pussy clenching at the sight. Jisung was right, your panties were soaked through, Jisung’s cock clearly visible beneath the material. You looked up at your lover, watching as he scrunched up his eyes, lost in pleasure, and guided your gaze down, your eyes landing on his pelvis and then back to your soaking pussy.

You laid back onto the sheets, a sigh leaving your lips as you focused on the warm sensation, emptying your mind as it spread throughout your body. You were floating in that space you go to every now and then, as it was quiet throughout the room, the only sounds heard were your soft moans, Jisung’s whimpers, and your wet pussy. Your reverie was broken at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, your eyes fluttering open.

“Play with your tits baby,” Jisung said.

You could tell he was close, there desperation in his eyes as he sped up his thrusts, the head of his cock hitting against your clit. You whimpered and shook your head, bringing your hands to your tits, grasping the flesh in your hands. You flicked your nipples, your eyes on Jisung as he watched you, his hips never faltering. Your moans grew louder as you squeezed and pinched your nipples, shocks of pleasures running down your spine to your core.

“I’m close Sungie,” you whined, the added sensation to your nipples causing the coil to tighten even more.

Jisung whimpered and shook his head, as his thrusts became more sporadic. “Cum with me baby,” he whined, “please, please, please,” he chanted over and over before he stilled, letting out a loud groan as his hot cum spurt onto your mound and panties.

The sight of your boyfriend’s high and the feel of his tip sliding up against your clit caused you to tip of the edge, as the coil snapped, warmth spreading throughout your body. You moaned out, pinching your nipples as you rode out your high. Jisung watched you from above, his eyes darting between your face and your little hole, watching as it clenched around nothing.

Taking a breath, you dropped your hands and reached down, sliding your finger through his cum on your pelvis before bringing it to your lips and wrapping them around the digit. You moaned as you sucked his cum off your finger, the salty taste settling on your tongue. Removing your finger from your mouth with a pop, you grinned at the boy above you.

“God I love you baby,” Jisung said, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

He looked down at your panties, completely ruined from your slick and his cum.

“Aww what a shame,” Jisung said, as he pushed your panties back in place. “I actually liked this pair. Guess I’m gonna have to buy you a new pair huh.”

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92

[luv-lies]

cw. 18+ mdni, fem!reader, sub!suguru, co𝓌gir𝓁 position, creampie, premature ejaculation, a little bit of degradation & profanity, hair pulling, light choking, spitting sum. suguru’s stressed so who better to indulge him than his roommate

suguru who can’t help but find himself beneath you, his roommate, whenever he needs stress relief.

he’d just finished work, brows creased together in irritation. “suguru, you okay?” your voice came from his right, standing in nothing but some cute, flimsy panties and a large oversized shirt of his that inadvertently made him groan. “i’m fine, just tired.”

liar. the way your hips roll against his heavy bulge, your slick soaking through your pussy-clad panties and onto his cock has his lips parting, your name spilling off his lolled out tongue with drool. suguru feels his head being tugged back, your fingers wrapping around the strands and pulling. hard. a moan rips from his throat and suddenly your fingers aren’t wrapped around his hair but his neck, fingers just barely digging into the skin. “need t’ be inside you, please.” he begs so prettily, eyes glossed over from even the slightest touches.

you’d never deny suguru though. especially not now that you’re sinking down on him, taking him inch by inch as your puffy folds meet—definitely not the first or last time—his pubic area, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin. squeezing his throat with a shaky hand, you slowly raise your hips before sinking down on him again. suguru’s eyes roll into the back of his head. the way your pussy swallows his cock so tightly, basically devouring him with warmth, pushes him over the edge, spilling ribbons of cum inside of you. for a second he swears there’s heaven inside of you, his own creampie dribbling down to the base of his dick.

“came already? never thought y’could be so pathetic, sugu.” a fat glob of spit lands on his tongue, which he wordlessly swallows, his face flushing deep red. his brain is already like mush, eyes are dazy and barely focusing on you, his thoughts only consisting of how good you feel around him and how much he wants you to just fuck him senselessly.

having his roommate ride him is definitely suguru’s favorite way to relieve stress.

© 2024 LUV-LIES do not plagiarize, steal, translate or repost my works on any platforms!