#put my lips on those mouth pockets

[wildbluesorbit]

BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL RN?!

[mediocreinternetuser]

thinking abt how pretty dean was in the earlier seasons..! not that he worsened with age but, as i’ve said before, the lesbianism i’ve been cursed with loved how lowkey androgynous he looked. like he went straight from masc lesbian to lumberjack dilf—how versatile—but dilf dean is 4 the man lovrz & masc lesbian dean is for the rest of us

[seospicybin]

THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

PART I

Bangchan x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Part II / Part III

Synopsis: Having issues to break up with your boyfriend, you seek help from the boy next door and the number one fuckboy in the area, Chan. (10k words)

Author's note: I went through a nasty break up a few weeks ago and this is basically just me trying to cope by being delulu about having a fuckboy Chan as a neighbor. Enjoy x

It becomes a habit now that Chan doesn't know where he is when he wakes up in the morning.

The first thing that he'll do is retrace everything to last night. He was DJ-ing at a club, had a few drinks in between, met a girl who was eyeing him the whole night, had a few more drinks, there was a little touching and a quick makeout session in the dark alley and people can guess what happens after that

So this is where he is right now, the girl's bedroom and he can recall everything that happened last night except the girl's name.

"Fuck!" Chan mutters under his breath.

Judging from how bright the sun is outside, he knows he only has a little window to make his escape so he quickly gets off the bed as calmly as possible. He then tiptoes around to gather his clothes and put them on without making any noise.

However, he fails at it as the head from his belt hits the bed frame and the clanging of metal meets metal echoing in the room.

The girl steers on her sleep and rolls over to the side, she brushes her hair away from her face, catching Chan putting his belt on.

The plan to make a quick getaway has come to a failure but he keeps his cool, continuing to buckle his belt and then plants his hands on each side of his waist.

"Morning," He awkwardly says with a forced smile.

"Morning," the girl replies with a smile then props an elbow against the mattress, sending the duvet sliding down her body and exposing her bare chest to him.

Chan might have been a little drunk when he met her but damn, his fuckboy radar works well even under the influence of alcohol.

"You're leaving already?" She asks, flipping her hair to the back to expose more of those beautiful mounds to him.

Chan has to tell his pervy brain to focus actively, he looks away and picks up his jacket from the floor.

"I promised a friend to help him move out today," He lies, then pretends to check the time on his phone, "And I'm kind of late."

The girl nods then twirls her hair around her finger, "Well then... when can I see you again?"

"I hope soon," Chan says with his charming grin that disguises the insincerity in his answer.

The girl smiles at that which confirms that the grin works, "But seriously, I can't wait to see you again," she says.

"I'll call you," he says because that's what he can promise her at the moment but whether he'll do it or not is uncertain.

"But you don't have my numbers yet," she says with her eyebrows wrinkled in suspicion.

"No, I'm sure you already did," he says, convincing her by scrolling the contacts on his phone.

"Yup. I have your numbers already," he lies again, showing her a random contact on his phone for a quick second.

"But my name is Thalia," she says, cleverly catching the name on the contact.

"Yes, of course, you're Thalia," he says with utmost confidence and his ultimate weapon of a dimpled smile.

The girl seems alarmed though. She sits up on the bed and clutches the duvet close to her chest, "We're going to see each other again, right Chris?"

"Yes," he answers without a beat, and at this point, lying is as easy as breathing to him.

"Can I get a kiss before you leave?"

"Sure," he says, coming around the bed to give her a quick peck on the lips.

The girl smiles when he lets go and watches as he walks to the doorway, "I'll call you, Tanya."

"It's Thalia," she corrects him with an apparent displeasure on her face.

Chan shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans and takes the time to properly bid her goodbye. Nothing a girl likes more than a sweet mouth and a little assurance, he'll give her exactly that.

"I'll see you soon, Thalia," Chan says with a smile.

"See you soon, Chris," and the girl naively believes him, if only she knew that this will be the last time they're seeing each other.

Yet again, Chan makes another successful getaway.

-

The warm weather of spring makes it a pleasant walk from the bus stop to his apartment building. He wants to stop somewhere for breakfast but his head feels heavy from the hangover, he just wants to go home as soon as possible, have a bowl of cereal then take an aspirin for the pounding headache.

In the lobby, he makes a quick stop to collect his mail and takes a quick check at it, sorting them out on the spot so he knows which ones he should bring upstairs.

From the corner of his eyes, Chan catches his neighbor, you with your boyfriend chatting by the elevator. He notices the gestures, the expression, and the whole interaction, it doesn't take a genius to know that something is going on there that the naked eyes can't see.

Chan throws the unnecessary mail into the trash bin nearby and walks to the elevator, hearing the little conversation going on between you and your boyfriend.

"...the waffles were delicious. We should have breakfast there again," the boyfriend says as he looks at you, "What do you think?"

"Yeah," you meekly answer while looking at the little screen that shows the floor the elevator is stopping in.

Chan tries to remain invisible but his eyes accidentally make contact with your boyfriend so he may as well make his presence known.

"Hi, neighbor," he greets, he knows your name but you seem to prefer to be called that way.

You do what you always do whenever you meet each other in the building, give him a quick judging look and a courteous smile.

"And hi neighbor's boyfriend," he greets your boyfriend next.

"Hi," your boyfriend greets back, "Chris, isn't it?"

"Yes and you are Lee," Chan responds.

"Right. So how was your Friday night?" Lee initiates a small talk.

"I believe it wasn't as good as yours," Chan playfully answers.

"Oh, we just stayed in and watched a movie, right baby?" Lee says, putting his arm around your shoulder.

All of a sudden, you take a step forward and say, "It's here."

The elevator doesn't chime until a moment later but you seem to be more than eager to get in. You turn around to give your boyfriend a quick hug.

"I'll try to leave early so we can have dinner together," Lee says with a quick kiss on the cheek.

"It's okay. Take your time," you say with a faint smile.

Chan quietly gets into the elevator and holds the door open for you, he tries not to look at what's happening in front of him not out of politeness but it's just painful to watch.

"I'll call you," Lee adds, catching your hand as you enter the elevator and kissing it.

"Okay," you say then wave your hand at him.

To help you get out of it, Chan releases his finger off the buttons and sends the doors sliding shut.

"Bye, baby," Lee says for the last time before the doors completely close.

It's just another awkward elevator ride with you and he'll usually try to endure it but after watching all that and trying not to say anything is hard, he can't help but impose.

He glances at you to check whether you're ready to hear about what he has to say but you always have the same stoic expression. Then it occurs to him that he has never seen you smile impolitely or out of joy, or even hear your laugh, but maybe after you hear what he's about to say, he'll get to see a different facial expression on you.

"Oh, man! That was painful to watch," he sighs as he keeps looking straight ahead at his reflection in the shiny furnace of the elevator.

There's no one else in the elevator so you're fully aware that he's talking to you but you don't respond until a while later.

There you go, with your judging look and stoic expression, looking at him as you say, "Excuse me?"

Chan doesn't want to sound rude but beating around the bush isn't his thing, he prefers to be straightforward. He knows it's all based on assumptions but he's pretty sure his judgements are pretty accurate.

He's going to just do it and lay out the facts, he turns to the side, then leans his back against the cold surface of the elevator.

"Your shoulder tightens when he called you baby and the fact you lied about the breakfast tells me that you didn't actually like his choice of restaurant," he pauses to let out a cynical chuckle, "the waffles weren't that good, I guess?"

When he wants to see a different facial expression on you, he doesn't mean seeing your angry one, but oh well, the damage has been done.

"Because I'm a good girlfriend that's why I let him choose the restaurant," you become defensive all of a sudden but that's an unconvincing answer.

"No, you let him choose out of pity," he simply remarks, "And just now, your nostrils flared when I pointed it out."

With all of these signs combined with his personal experiences, Chan narrows it out to one conclusion. He looks at you in the eyes and says, "You're about to break up with him, don't you?"

It looks like you've been slapped right on the face except that the slap doesn't come from someone, it's from the truth that comes out of Chan's unfiltered mouth and he instantly regrets it for meddling in in someone else's business.

"I'm sorry, but why are we having this conversation?" You ask, crossing your arms together in front of you.

"It's not like you're any better. You slept around, you're scared of commitment and now, sticking your nose at my business. You are the kind of person that I deeply despise!" You angrily say with your chest heaving.

It seems like you're saying all of those things about him out of anger because he sees right through you but now he knows why you always give him that judging look. He's the one who started it so yeah, okay, maybe he deserves that but that doesn't change the truth. The problem is what he said and your response, they're heading in the opposite direction.

"I think someone has her panties in a twist," Chan coyly responds.

"Look, there's nothing wrong with wanting to break up. That doesn't make you a bad person," he adds and decides to end the talk right there.

It gets quiet in this enclosed space and it's already suffocating as it is but how lucky that he has to patiently wait for the elevator to ride through three more floors to get out of here.

When the elevator finally dings open, Chan lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding but he's not the one in a hurry to exit both this space and the situation. He stays where he is and lets you out first.

When he thinks you don't have anything else to say, you stop right outside the elevator and look at him with a piercing gaze.

"Don't, for one second, think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties!" You emphasize every word in anger, then storm off.

Know what? Maybe Chan should skip the bowl of cereal and take two aspirin instead. As for you, maybe you need to chill the fuck out.

-

Just because you've been neighbors with Chan for the past three years doesn't mean that you know each other on a personal level.

All you know about him is that he's a DJ which explains why there's always music playing in his apartment, he always wears a sleeveless top to showcase his muscles, and he always has a stupid grin on to show off the stupid dimples on his stupid face, an annoying Australian accent and from how many times you caught different girls taking a walk of shame out of his apartment, it's safe to say that he's the number one fuckboy in the area

So how dare he say all of that stuff in the elevator when he doesn't know anything about you at all? Moreover, what does a fuckboy like him know about relationships?

It shouldn't be hard to ignore because it's something you usually do but gosh, the memory of the conversation still vexed you a few days later.

Then it hits you that it bothers you so much because deep down, you know what he said is true. You've been wanting to break up with your boyfriend and hearing that comes from someone outside that relationship only solidified that thought.

There's nothing wrong with your boyfriend, Lee is nice, too nice even, and when you think about it, maybe that is the problem, he is too nice and that leads you to another problem, you don't know how to break up with him without hurting his feelings.

But you know who can help you with that? Someone who has a lot of experience in breaking up with people.

Oh, what a joy that you find the answer right across your door!

Before you get to ask for his help though, you're fully aware that there's another thing to do and there's no other way to do it but walk up to his apartment, knock on his door, and apologize.

As you're standing there in front of his apartment door, you're dreading it. All sorts of thoughts crossed your head like why did you have to be so riled up that time in the elevator? Why did you have to say that thing about the panties? Just why? Ugh!

Let's just get it over with, you mutter inside your head.

With hesitant hand, you knock on his door and then hold the urge to turn around and run back to your apartment. You let yourself take a step back as you wait for him to come for the door.

Do not open the door, do not open the door, you chant inside your head while tapping your foot against the floor. However, things are not always going the way you want.

The door swings inward and a second later, Chan appears with disheveled hair and he only has one arm in the sleeve of his t-shirt, then you spot a girl's shoes next to his feet.

Oh no, please don't say you're coming at the wrong time.

You reflexively take another step back but he grabs your forearm and then opens the door wider, showing you that there's a girl there.

"It's my neighbor, she's here to remind me about the tenant meeting," he says to her.

The girl looks at you rather suspiciously and crosses her arms together in front of her as she glares at Chan.

"No. Don't you dare try to get out of this, Chris!"

"But it's true. We have to leave now," Chan says, then gives you a look that tells you to lie along with him, "Right?"

Running a quick assessment of the situation, you're certain that Chan is trying to get himself out of it to avoid having a difficult conversation with the beautiful lady. You hate to be the accessory to his crime but if this means that it would help you earn his forgiveness...

"The pigeons!" You make up a lie on the spot.

"The pigeons are ruining our rooftop garden so we held this urgent tenant meeting," you add with what you hope is a convincing smile.

"Oh, those damn pigeons!" Chan heavily sighs with a phony expression.

The lie makes your throat dry and your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile, you have to keep it going as the lady considers whether to believe that the tenant meeting is true or not.

Chan grabs his jacket from the clothes hook and puts it on, "We'll continue this later, okay?" He says to her.

Without waiting for her answer, he gets out of the door and drags you with him to go to your apartment. Once both of you get inside, he immediately closes the door behind him and lets out a long sigh.

"Oh, wow!" He exclaims once he realizes that he's inside your apartment.

He allows himself further inside and leisurely walks around your apartment, checking your kitchen, trailing his fingers on your book collection on the shelf, and observing the potted plants lining up on the window sill.

He walks back to the middle of the room and takes another 360-degree look around the apartment, then nods in approval.

"So, this is what the inside of your apartment looks like," he says in a cryptic tone.

Not sure if he wants you to respond to that or if should respond at all. You choose to remain silent and only respond when his intentions are intelligible.

Chan then sits on the sofa, making himself comfortable, and looks at you, then at what you're holding in both hands.

"Is that for me?"

The jar of cookies you've been unknowingly holding in your hands is a token of apology and it is for him.

"Yes, it is for you," you say, handing it to him with both hands.

"I'm sorry about the other day," you sincerely apologize, but you know you have to let him know what you're apologizing for, "for what I've said to you. I'm terribly sorry."

"Well, since you're helping me with the uh... situation," he coyly says as he scratches his eyebrow, "consider us even."

See? That wasn't so hard. You feel bad for lying to the girl but at least, you've been forgiven.

"Thank you," you add with a smile.

Chan doesn't say anything else but opens the lid and takes a cookie out of the jar. He gets comfortable on the sofa, sitting slumped with his legs spreading wide, and then he takes a big bite of the cookie.

It doesn't take long for him to notice that you have something else to say to him other than an apology.

Before he gets to it, you force yourself to start speaking.

"So, Chris..." you call, then abruptly stop talking. You suddenly have a second thought about asking for his help.

"What's up?" He asks while chewing on his cookie.

It's at the tip of your tongue but your mouth feels like they're sewn shut. You clasp your hands together and muster up the courage to just blurt it out.

"Do you want something to have with the cookies?"

You swear you plan on asking for his help but somehow, your mouth saying a different thing.

"Milk would be nice," he answers.

"Milk. Yes, I have milk," you awkwardly say, slowly making your way to the kitchen like a walking dead.

You take a carton of milk from the fridge and while pouring it into a glass, you're scolding yourself for being so cowardly.

After taking a moment to take a deep breath and muster up the courage to ask, you walk back to the sofa with the glass of milk in hand. With a smile, you hand it to him.

"Thank you," he says, his eyes catching something in your eyes.

You immediately break the eye contact and take another step back, standing and watching him finish his third cookie then wash it down with a sip of milk.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm going to stay here until the girl leaves my apartment," he informs.

"Oh?" You meekly gasp.

"But I can leave if you're uncomfortable," he says as he sits straight on the sofa.

"No, it's fine," you shortly reply, "Take your time."

"Okay, thanks," he says, reclining back on the sofa and continues munching on the cookies.

You can't decide if he stays longer than you expected is a good thing or not. You use the opportunity to reconsider it and walk to the kitchen to get out of his sight.

"Do you need help or not?" You quietly ask yourself as you pour yourself a glass of water.

Why is it so hard? He's right there. All you need is to go and ask for his help.

The water sloshes out of the glass as you fill it too full and you reflexively back away to avoid getting water all over the front of your dress.

"Everything good there?" Chan asks in a slight panic.

That's it! Enough time has passed from overthinking it! You walk up to him and just do it.

"You're right," you blurt out, "I've been wanting to break up with my boyfriend."

Sensing that it turns serious, Chan slows down his chewing and puts away the cookie jar. You expect the I-told-you-so grin on his face but no, he looks saddened instead.

"Things aren't working out," you openly share with a sad sigh.

You take a seat on the ottoman facing the sofa and sadly sigh, "I've been wanting to break up with him for a week now but I just don't know how."

"How long you've been dating each other?"

"Three years," you answer.

"Wow," Chan lowly gasps in awe.

Three years is not a short time, he understands why you hesitate to break up and it isn't an easy decision either.

"I need your help," you hopelessly say, unintentionally becoming vulnerable in front of him.

"My help?"

"Help me how to break up with him," you further explain.

"Of all people, why me?" He asks in utter confusion.

It's hard to answer that without being rude, you decide to let him process the question until it leads him to the answer. After a while, he lets out a dry chuckle and nods, "Okay, yeah. Make sense."

Chan takes another minute to accept the fact that his help is needed because he knows how to break up with someone without feeling awful about it afterward.

"I guess you want to let him down gently?"

"Yes," you answer.

"Well..." he inflates his cheeks then lets the air out through his pursed lips, "You can break up with him through a text."

Which part of 'let him down gently' did he not understand? How is it a good idea to break up through a text? But okay, it's just one suggestion, you give him the benefit of the doubt for now. Who knows he'll come up with better suggestions.

"I'm sorry. No, I can't do that," you kindly refuse his suggestion.

"You can send it when he's sleeping," he adds.

Oh, God! He gives you an even worse suggestion instead of better ones. You know what? This is a bad idea and you regret asking for his help.

"I don't—" You stop yourself from talking and get up from your seat.

"I'll just check if the lady is still..." Your words trail off as you walk towards the door and check through the peephole first, then you get out of the door to check his apartment next.

"Hello? Excuse me?" You shout from the doorway but no one is answering you.

You take it the lady has left and walk back to your apartment to deliver the news to the rightful owner of the apartment.

"She already left," you tell him.

Chan lets out a sigh and closes the cookie jar, he finishes the milk to its last drop and then gets up from the sofa.

"Thank you for the cookies and the milk," he says with his signature grin.

"No worries," you reply, trying so hard to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Chan holds the cookie jar in one arm and takes a step closer to you, "if you need help on how to write breakup texts, I'm just across the hall," he says.

You don't respond to that but keep a smile on for him as to seem polite.

"And good luck!" He says with gentle pats on your shoulder.

The second he walks out the door, you collapse onto the sofa and dread it even more than before. Turns out, asking for his help is not helping at all.

The next day, you meet him as you collect your mail in the lobby and it's hard to ignore him when his mailbox is next to yours.

"G'day!" Chan greets you as he leans the side of his body against the wall while sorting his mail.

"Good day!" You respond and hurriedly walk toward the elevator. You push the button to summon it to the lobby and hope it comes soon enough for you to avoid talking to Chan.

Of course, things don't go as you want it. He comes just in time for the elevator about to arrive, he crumples a few letters in his hand into a ball and then tosses it into the trash bin.

"How did it go?" He asks.

"Pardon?" You nonchalantly respond.

Good thing that the elevator chimes open and you can pretend to forget about what he asked you a while ago. You get inside while clutching your mails in hands in front of you but it's not safe yet as you have to share the elevator ride with him.

"So... the break-up texts? Did you do it?" He asks again, going to the corner of the elevator and leaning his back against it.

"Chris, I think you can't just end a three-year relationship with a text," you put it as nicely as you can.

"Yeah, I reckon," he innocently answers.

It seems like Chan can't tell the difference between what is easy and what is right. It isn't a good idea in the first place to ask for help from someone like him who doesn't consider other people's feelings except his own.

"What are you going to do then?" He asks, shifting his weight on one leg.

Since his help is not helping at all, you have no answer to that yet. This should be something you have to figure out on your own in the first place.

"I'll figure it out," you not-very-convincingly answer.

Chan crosses his arms in front of him, making the muscles and veins on his arms more evident under the fluorescent light of the elevator.

"Lee seems like a nice guy," he remarks with a deep inhale of air.

Well, if you have to compare your boyfriend to Chan, then yes, Lee is a really nice guy. Lee excels in a lot of things, including how to treat a person with feelings.

"Yes," you settle with a simple answer.

"A drawn-out break up is only going to end in a big scene," he says, "Just saying."

Chan has a point. It's worse to prolong the pain for both you and Lee, you can't keep pretending that the relationship works and it's unfair that you keep Lee oblivious about all this.

"We can practice, you know," he offers.

"Practice?"

"On how you're going to break up with him," he explains.

He comes up with a better suggestion this time and is almost endearing even but again, he wouldn't know how a person with real feelings reacts to a break-up which makes you unsure if the practice would be any help.

The elevator is about to arrive anyway so you decide to skip on responding to his offer. Once it chimes, the doors part open and you take the first turn to get out with Chan getting off after you. You turn to the left to your apartment while he turns right. You take the key out of your pocket to unlock the door and push your way in while clutching your mail close to your chest.

"You know where to find me if you need help," Chan says just before you close the door to your apartment.

Hard pass, you answer in your head but you put on a smile for his kind offer, then close the door

-

Okay, you admit it. You were too haste when you said that you didn't need his help. You were doing fine for these past few days, you've been avoiding meeting your boyfriend to give you some more time to think of the best way to break the news to him until he calls you.

The phone rings and you just stare at it, considering whether to pick it up or not. If you pick it up, that means you have to lie to him and if you don't, it'll alert him that things are, in fact, not okay.

The latter seems like a better idea so you pick it up after taking a long, deep breath.

"Hi, baby. Am I calling you at the wrong time?"

Not entirely wrong but it would be nice if he didn't call you, you answer in your head.

"Yeah, sorry, I was in the bathroom," you lie.

"Coconut shrimp for dinner. What do you think?" he asks out of the blue.

"That sounds nice," you easily respond.

"I know you'll like it but, babe, do you mind getting us a bottle of wine on the way?

"I'm sorry?" You ask in confusion.

"For our dinner, remember?" he answers, "I'll cook tonight we'll be having dinner at mine."

You hardly paid attention to him because your mind was always elsewhere, you couldn't remember saying yes to the dinner but you did and it must be out of pity.

"No, of course, I remember, I'm just..." you rake your brain to think of something to say.

"I thought it was next week," you lie again with an awkward chuckle.

"You silly!" Lee says, "Aren't you glad that I called, huh?"

"So glad," you lie, again and again.

"I should start prepping the ingredients so they'll be ready when you get here," he says, his voice exuding enthusiasm.

"Okay."

"Don't forget the wine!"

"I won't."

"I can't wait to see you, baby," he sweetly says.

The lies are piling up so may as well add another one to the pile, "Me too."

"I love you, bye."

Don't think you can lie your answer to that, you gulp air, "Bye," you say to the phone, then quickly hang up.

Desperate times call for desperate measures and you don't know your desperate measure means knocking on your neighbor's door. Probably because you hate to admit that you need his help.

Not long after, Chan opens the door and his head pops out from the gap, "What's up?"

"My boyfriend just called and tonight, we'll be having dinner in his place," you blabber in panic.

It takes a second for him to process it then his face turns a little surprised, "What are we going to do then?" He asks in confusion.

You may be in dread but you catch the error in his question, "We? Now, you got your panties in a twist," you tell him.

"Shame on you!" He responds with a sly grin then opens the door wider and shows himself dressed in nothing but a white towel hanging low around his hips.

He puts one arm against the doorframe and leans close to you as he says, "Cause I'm not wearing any panties right now."

You should have noticed it from his wet hair and the beads of water rolling down his neck, and now that you're seeing the whole of it, your eyes immediately following where the beads of water going, they're going down the outline of his abs and eventually, to where they're all gathered as his pelvic bones leading down to one way: down south.

However, your instinctive reaction goes against what you're actually feeling inside.

"Ugh!" You groan and turn to the side, "Put some clothes on and I'll see you at my place!"

Without waiting for his answer, you rush back to your apartment and close the door behind you as fast as possible, then you rest your back against it.

The images of his naked body flashing through your head, his glistening wet pale skin, and how some parts of his body are blotchy red around the neck and chest. You get flustered all of a sudden, you immediately press the back of your hand to your cheek and you can feel them heating.

"Get it together!" You scold yourself.

After waiting for almost fifteen minutes, Chan finally comes knocking on your door like it's a musical instrument.

"Are you dressed?" You ask with your hand on the doorknob.

"Hardly," he jokes.

You peek through the peephole and see that he's already dressed to what you can say is his usual attire of dark short pants with a matching sleeveless top, showing off his bulging biceps. You open the door to let him in and he coyly walks in, treating your place like it's his own, sitting on your sofa with his legs spreading wide.

"Okay, so, why am I here?"

You stand in front of him with your hands clasped in front of you, "I've been lying to him the whole phone call and honestly, I've been doing it since the moment I decided that I want to break up with him, and I... I don't think I can lie to him again."

It's easy to admit your mistakes to him because he barely knows you and his opinions about you won't matter that much to you.

"I need to do it tonight," you hopelessly say.

"I take it you need my help to practice your break-up speech?"

You hate that he guesses it right but it's also convenient that you don't have to beat around the bush to ask for it. But first, you try to explain the situation as much as possible so he has ideas on what you're facing here.

"Lee is a man of many emotions and I'm not exaggerating when I say he'll likely cry," you inform.

Chan's forehead wrinkles as he processes this piece of information then stifles a nod. It seems like he still has no idea what you want him to do about it.

"I think it's less painful if you acknowledge the dumpee feelings," you blatantly explain.

"Okay, I got you. Let's practice!' He says, sitting up straighter on the sofa and then putting his hands on his knees.

It's just a practice but your anxiety takes over you not just mentally but also physically as your palms get sweaty. You wipe them down your jeans and take a breath.

"Lee," you call him by your boyfriend's name, and even though it's weird that you're roleplaying, you continue, "I want to break up with you."

Chan looks at you and gets quiet for a moment, "Wow. I'm in utter shock and it makes me very sad to hear that," he says with a rather serious tone.

Not the kind of reaction Lee would likely pull off but that will do if you decide to continue with it.

"I'm fully aware that this is so sudden but I've been thinking hard about it for some time and I think this is a decision that I should take," you say and you know it's a practice but you feel something caught in your throat.

"I'm sad and I need time to process it, but I'll be okay," he calmly says.

Chan gets the tone right but you believe breaking up wouldn't be this easy in real life, especially when there are real feelings to protect. To be honest, you're not ready to face the truth that you may hurt those feelings tonight.

"I think that went very well," Chan says, returning to his default settings.

"Yeah, I think that's it," you meekly say.

The worries and sadness are drawn on your face that Chan can easily see through your veiled expression, "If Lee is as nice as you said he is, then you shouldn't worry much," he says.

He waits until your eyes meet his to continue, "He may get surprised or shocked even, but he'll come around and respect your decision."

You can't believe that those words are coming out of his mouth or that he even tries to comfort you, but you appreciate it. Maybe his heart is still there, he just doesn't let it control him most of the time.

He gets up from the sofa and walks up to you, he takes your hands, ignoring how cold and sweaty they feel in his, "You got this," he assures you.

"Thank you, Chris," you sincerely say with a sad smile.

It is time to stop torturing both you and Lee with lies and forcing yourself to believe that the love is still there. It's time to accept the truth that if you can fall in love, you can also fall out of love.

-

It's a surprise that Chan worries about things that aren't his business. He's been playing some music to distract him from his head but he keeps the volume low because he doesn't want to miss hearing the sound of the elevator that will tell him any signs that you're back from the dinner.

Eventually, he tires himself out from worrying and falls asleep on the sofa. He startles always close to midnight after hearing the knocking on his doors.

Half disoriented, he trudges his way to open the door and finds you there, surprisingly, looking nice in a white cotton dress and your eyes dry.

But from the way you let yourself into his apartment, forgetting your impeccable manners and walking with shoulders slumped and carrying your shoes in your hands, he takes it that you did it.

"So... how did it go?" He carefully asks, following you as you're making your way to the sofa and then sitting on it.

You let a heavy sigh and your shoulders slumped even more, "At least, there's no crying," you answer with a sad smile.

Chan is unsure of how to react to that, is that a good thing or a bad thing? He just stands there with his arms crossed on his chest, thinking out loud.

"And even though it was ending... it was incredibly meaningful to me and I'm going to miss him," you say with your lips trembling.

Oh, no, Chan knows when a girl is about to cry, he quickly finds a remedy to it, one that he knows always works wonders for him. He runs to the kitchen and brings a bottle out of his alcohol stash, then hands it to you.

"Let's have a drink!" He says, realizing that he forgot the glass.

"Wait another second, I'll get the glass," he says, sprinting to retrieve two glasses from his kitchen cabinet.

When he returns, he sees that you're chugging the alcohol straight from the bottle. You gasp and then wince from the bitter aftertaste of it.

"Okay, straight from the bottle it is," he says, popping onto the sofa next to you.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and then hand the bottle to him in which he wastes not another second to take a sip of it.

"The thing is... I really care about him but he wanted to get married, and I'm just not ready for that," you share with your eyes blank and looking at the void.

You take a deep breath but it seems like it only sends your heart sinking deeper and deeper, and making it harder for you to breathe.

"And if I'm not ready with a guy as great as him then what if I'm never ready?" You say, turning your head his way with your eyes glassy, pooling with tears.

"What if that was it..." you lift your shoulders then drop them as you let out a low sigh, "my one chance at love?"

The tears start streaming down your face like a bursting dam and Chan knows he can't do anything about it but let them out.

Hearing your words makes him think about what his idea of love is. He used to think that it was something he could get whenever he wanted it but now he knows that he's wrong, because that's just a short-lived infatuation, just some sort of meaningless connection.

From you, he learns that love is a privilege that not everyone can experience.

"What if I never get a second chance?" You ask him the question that he doesn't know the answer to.

"I don't know. I'm just sad," your voice cracks, then you break into tears.

Chan is quick to catch you into his arms and offers you his embrace. He knows he can't do anything about this sadness but he can try to soothe the pain, he's placing gentle rubs on your back as you cry into his chest.

The cry is resounding in this space, echoing the sadness back to you and it makes him inexplicably sad too, and he gets the urge to make it stop.

"It's going to be alright," he murmurs at the top of your head.

You look up with your eyes wet and red with tears caught in your lashes, "Is it?" You croak.

He doesn't know when but he knows for sure that time heals everything.

"It will be," he answers with a gentle caress of his knuckle on your wet cheek, "eventually."

Your eyes tell some more assurance for him and he doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he leans in, then kisses you.

To his surprise, you kiss him back and he knows you're doing it because you seek his comfort and he wants to give you exactly that. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you that closeness you seek. He kisses you ever so softly because he knows he's kissing a broken heart and he wants to mend it. He can taste your sadness and the bitterness of it, and also the relief underlying all of it. As he kisses you, he lets his heart open just enough to take some of that sadness away from yours.

As the kiss deepens, the sadness withers, and something else emerges. Chan loses in it for a bit until he realizes what you're trying to do with your hand that reaches for the front of his jeans.

He abruptly detaches his lips from yours and shakes his head, "No, we can't do this," he says.

As much as he fancies you enough to have sex with you, he knows better not to do it when you're not in your right mind and your judgments are clouded with sadness. The last thing he wants is you waking up in the morning full of regrets.

"I want this, Chris," you croak.

"No, we can't," he adamantly says and takes your hand away from him.

"You're sad. You do want this," he says in an effort to put some sense into you.

You roughly crumple the front of his t-shirt and pull him close, "I want– No, I need this, Chris," you say to him with your eyes dark like two bottomless pits.

"Please?" You plead as a tear rolls down from the corner of your eye.

This is the most hopeless he ever heard of you and it breaks his heart. You said it yourself, you need this and he knows what you mean by that. You need the distraction, you need him to take this pain away even just for a fleeting moment, moreover, he can't break what's already broken.

He takes your hand off of his clothes and puts it in his, he leans in until his forehead is pressed against yours.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks once again.

"Yes," you answer without a beat.

That's all Chan needed to hear, he inhales air and puts an inch between your faces. He then tenderly holds your face with both hands and looks at you, unsure where to start but maybe, he can start by making those tears coming out of your eyes.

Chan dabs the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes with his knuckle and without the slightest of hesitancy, he places a gentle kiss on each of your closed eyelids and before you can open them, he captures your lips in a kiss.

Sex is not something new to him but Chan knows that this time is not about physical fulfillment, but a way to offer comfort and hopefully, to also mend your broken heart.

He takes his time to strip away every piece of clothing on you until you're bare, lying on the bed with nothing but sadness that fills your heart.

He touches you with utmost gentleness, using just his fingertips to feel the softness of your skin and you're so pliant, sensitive to his touch.

To make it fair, Chan takes his clothes off as well before joining you on the bed, caging you in between his arms and hovering only inches away above you.

"Touch me," he says to you, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.

He then glides your hand down his neck and chest, he makes you feel every inch of his pale skin with him. However, when he looks at you, your eyes remain on his.

"You feel so warm, Chris," you lowly mutter.

He brings your hand close to his mouth and kisses it, then crashes his lips on yours.

The gap between your bodies becomes non-existent as you keep pulling him close, he relents by lowering himself on top of you and props an elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

Lips locked, hands around each other, bodies pressed together and the temperature keeps on rising in the room. Chan makes you feel every part of his lips brushing and gliding over yours. He skillfully parts your mouth open with his tongue so he can kiss you deep and hard, yet slow until you run out of breath.

At the same time, his hand makes its way down until his fingers land on your delicate flesh. He touches it tenderly, running his fingers between the folds, and drags them upward to rub on your bundle of nerves.

"Ah..." you moan against his lips as you curve your hand around his neck and pull him incredibly closer.

Judging from it, he knows he's doing it right and he should continue, he applies gentle pressures on your clit, making you drenched and that way, he can slowly put a digit inside of you.

You let go of his kiss to let out a moan and your head falls onto the pillow as he puts another digit into you, two fingers pumping in and out of you.

Chan intently watches as your face contorted along to the pleasure, how your jaws slack open and breathless moans keep spilling out of your parted mouth.

The way you clench around his fingers makes him impatient to feel you and how tight you feel around him, and the noises you make oh, they're his new favorite tune that he wants to keep listening to until his eardrums burst.

He glances down as he pulls his fingers out of you and finds them thickly coated with your essence, it doesn't stop him from shoving them into his mouth and lick them clean.

Chan holds you by the chin to keep you still as he kisses you, "Give me a second to get a condom, yeah?" He says to you and you nod in answer.

He makes his to the bathroom and pulls the drawer open to take a condom. To save time, he decides to put it on right away, he tears through the foil packet with his teeth and rolls the rubber down his hard length.

On the way out, he catches his reflection in the mirror and gets reminded that this is not about him. Tonight, it's all about you.

He returns to the bedroom, finding you still lying in bed naked and hugging yourself. He climbs onto the bed and lowers himself on you, letting you absorb his body heat to warm you.

Craving for another taste of it, he goes down and plants his mouth on your cunt next, tasting you right on his tongue.

You're squirming as his tongue laps over your wetness, drinking in on your essence and then using it to circle on your clit.

He's not the only one getting impatient and asking more of it, you both want it and there's no wasting time anymore. Just before he takes it to the next part, he places a long, tender kiss on your clit and immediately brings his mouth to yours again so you can taste yourself on him.

"I'm going in, mmh?" He says as he endearingly brushes your hair away from your face.

You hold on to his shoulder as he settles himself between your legs, aligning his cock with your entrance but before that, he rubs his length between your folds, lubricating it with your essence.

Your hands fly to your chest, hugging yourself again as you lowly moan to his hard length rubbing over your clit and then, pushing its way into you.

"Goodness fu—" he can't even finish his sentence without breaking into a satisfied groan.

It's just the tip but he can already feel how tight you are around him, he's scared yet excited to push more of him into you. He reorganizes his breathing and rests his hand on your abdomen to do it.

Chan looks down to check and he still has a little more of him that needs to be inside you, he sharply inhales air through his nostrils and pushes the remaining length in one quick push.

"Oh..." you breathlessly moan as you're squeezing on your breasts.

Chan allows himself to take a moment to adjust himself to being inside you and you seem to also need time to adjust to his size because you feel so incredibly tight around him. It makes him wonder how this little thing can take him so well.

He takes your hands away from your chest and puts them around his shoulders, that way he can put his body on top of you, lips locked with yours again in no time as you wrap your legs around his waist, sending him deeper inside you.

As he takes a breath in between kisses, you hold his face and look at him with a different kind of sadness in your eyes which only reminds him that his initial plan is to make it go away.

He starts thrusting into you, wanting to fuck this sadness out of you. He wants to make you think of nothing but how his cock fills you full and how good he is fucking you right now, and soon, he's going to make you feel nothing but immense pleasure.

"Ah... ah... ah..." you moan for every thrust going into you and the skin-slapping sounds echo along with it in the room.

Chan plants his mouth on your breasts to contain his grunts and groans while keeping the steady motion of his hips pulsating against you.

A hand reaches for his chin and forces him to look at you, instantly engaged in eye contact with you. He continues thrusting into you with eyes looking deep into you, they're no longer looking like bottomless pits, they look like deep oases that he wants to dive into.

The next thing he knows, Chan finds himself deep in you, not just physically but also connected with you in a way that he's never experienced with anyone else until now. He feels barer than he already is and instead of shutting himself off, he embraces it and lets you in.

Soon enough, he finds himself lost in it and fully connects himself to you in a way that lets him know how it feels to love without fears or insecurities holding him back, without worrying if it's being reciprocated or not, to love wholly and completely.

"Oh," you let out a broken moan and that's when he notices that you break into tears again.

Chan abruptly stops moving, afraid that something he does is hurting you without realizing it.

"No, keep going, keep going," you tell him with your voice hoarse.

He needs to make sure to continue, he cups your jaw and asks, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, please, keep going, please," You repeatedly nod and plead with your teary eyes.

He wants you to stop crying, he wants you to stop thinking about what hurts you and start to see him as he tries to take this pain away from you. His body picks up the pace, going impossibly fast and also taking himself close to his high.

Your eyes are screwed shut, your breath is ragged and your hands are gripping onto his shoulders, overwhelmed by the pleasure that he brought on you.

The moment he's sure that you already come to your climax, he allows himself to let go and uses all of his strength to give you a few more thrusts until there's nothing left in him but waves of pleasure that wash over him.

"Chris..." you softly call and then pull him for a chaste kiss on his lips, "Thank you."

Chan's face hovers only inches above you as he softly gazes into your eyes, you look so fragile and open like a wound and he's just glad that he can make your heartache gone even just for a while.

"Shh..." he stops you from talking by running his thumb over your lips and then kisses you with his heart wide open. He lets this beautiful feeling pour out of him and into you.

"No, thank you," he mutters his gratitude between kisses.

Thanks to you, he experiences something he's never felt before with someone else, something new, something pure and real, something that feels a lot like love.

When he wakes up in the morning and finds you're not there, it hits him that maybe it is love but Chan is not ready to admit it yet.

-

A week passes and Chan hasn't seen you ever since that night.

He can't tell if you're avoiding him or needing the space and time to piece yourself back from the break-up, he hopes it's the latter. Gosh! Let him be right.

Regardless of what happened, he can live with the fact that you despise him but it would be sad to know if you choose to go down the path of believing that you're not going to find love again.

Chan just needs to know if you're doing okay, that's what matters for now.

Fortunately, the two of you have been neighbors for quite a long time to learn your routine and knockabouts. He knows what you like to do on a Saturday morning, he goes to the lobby and chats with the concierge as he waits.

At the first sight of you entering the apartment building, his heart palpation, and in all honesty, he's just so happy to finally see you after a while.

Are you not seeing him there? Or you're just pretending which only confirms his initial thought that you've been, in fact, avoiding him.

You're walking through the lobby carrying a bag of groceries in your arm, you skip checking on the mailbox and go straight to the elevator. It just happens that the elevator is vacant and the doors slide open after you push the button.

Chan decides to take the risk, sprinting to get into the elevator before the doors close. You already despise him so a little more hate shouldn't be a problem to him.

"Morning, sunshine," He greets you with his dimpled grin.

"Good morning," you politely reply without looking at him.

Things are going back to normal and he should be glad, right? At least, you're back to your usual settings of looking stoic and acting polite, and the best thing about it is you're still talking to him.

"I should learn to avoid people from you. You're good at it," he pushes it a bit just to see if he can crack through this facade.

"Excuse me?" Your head turns his way and with your eyes widen, "I have not been avoiding anyone."

Chan holds the urge to smile for successfully getting your attention and rests his back against the cold, metal furnace of the elevator, "Are you sure?"

"Well, we're seeing each other now," you tell him.

"That's because I know you like to go to the farmer's market every Saturday morning," he says at the same time, admitting that he knows about your routine.

You slowly turn your body facing him and squint your eyes at him, "You've been keeping tabs on me?"

"It's my favorite pastime activity," he shamelessly answers then pokes his cheek with his tongue.

"It's better than watching porn," he playfully adds, something that he knows will annoy you the right way.

"Ugh!" You groan as you look straight ahead.

Oddly enough, that's what he misses the most about it, interacting with you and seeing your reaction to his antics, but you, especially.

"Don't be so uptight," he coyly says.

He takes a step closer to you and puts his hand on the handlebar, "it's not like we haven't slept together or anything."

You let out a scoff and hoist the strap of your grocery bag higher on your shoulder, "I'm shocked you even remember," you say.

You turn your head next and your eyes immediately lock in a gaze with him, "I figure I'm just a low notch on a very long bedpost," you add.

"Are you calling me a man whore?" Chan says, feeling offended.

You take a step closer to him and daringly stare back into his eyes, "I didn't call you a man," you answer with a sly smirk.

There's a few seconds of silence until Chan realizes what you just said to him but you know what? He's going to give it to you, for now.

He looks at you and smiles, "Touche!"

You both look at each other and at the same time, burst into laughter, and it keeps going until the hilarity subsides with each passing second.

Is this real? Did you just poke fun at him with a beautiful smile on your face? Did you really laugh and the sound of not only echoing in this enclosed space but also in the back of his mind? Did he just see a different facial expression on you? Either way, he likes it and he likes how it makes him feel.

The elevator chimes open and soon, the doors part open. He lets you get off first and then takes his turn after, he gets a little disappointed as you both are going in the opposite direction.

"Hey, Chris," you call as he's only a couple of steps away from the door of his apartment.

His heart palpation again but he keeps his calm and then slowly, turns on his feet to face you, "Yes?"

"I'm cooking curry for dinner and I know it'll be not as good as the one you always ordered but you can come and..." your hand is fiddling with the strap of your grocery bag as you speak but your eyes remain steady on him, "see if it suits your taste."

And did you just invite him for dinner? Him, the neighbor you despise so much?

Chan acts coy and scratches the back of his head, he holds the urge to answer right away. He has a reputation to uphold and he reckons, you have to at least wait a minute for his answer.

"Yeah, okay, let's see," he nonchalantly answers but his smile tells otherwise.

You crack a laugh and nod, walking to your door with the keys jangling as you're unlocking it.

Chan thinks that's the end of it until you call his name again, his heart leaps this time and he almost flies his way to you.

"Yeah?"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you what are we," you say with a smile then get inside of your apartment.

That's funny because, after that night, he was hoping that you would ask him that as most girls do but that's where he is wrong, you're not most girls, you are his neighbor whom Chan is secretly in love with.

-

Support my works by reblog, comment or consider to tip me on my ko-fi!

@svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @yourmomscuntis2tighy @sunnyseungup @skz4lifer @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @jebetwo @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @cutiespaghetti @ven-fic-recs @hyunjiinnnn @lostgirlinthewoodss @schniti-is-in-the-house @jisunglyricist @9900z

[radiance1]

This au again lawl. Where Danny wears these special sunglasses to hide his eyes that also track down ghosts in his human form.

The Justice League tracks down a summoning for the ghost king, an eons old tyrant of the infinite realms and known to bring war and devastation whenever he is summoned.

The cultists do manage to summon the ghost king, except, not how they wanted. They did indeed summon the king, but Pariah Dark is still trapped in eternal sleep and somehow, just, somehow, they managed to draw the lottery and dragged the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep to the summoning circle.

So there the Justice League were, wondering what to do with the (currently) locked away and sleeping ghost king.

Until Constantine's coat flipped itself open and a boy with glowing white hair and a mist of blue blowing from his mouth.

"Old man." The boy greeted.

"Brat." Constantine said.

"Do you mind explaining why and how this," The boy gestured to the Sarcophagus. "Is here and not in Pariah's Keep?"

"Funny story, that one." Constantine said, only half-jokingly. He then went on to explain that the Justice League came to track down cultists, said cultists somehow managed to drag that here, and now they didn't quite know what to do with it.

The boy stood still for a moment, before taking off his sunglasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed, a large amount of blue flame spilling from his mouth. "Ancients above, why is it every time something notable happens, it's always you?"

Constantine snorted, reaching into his coat for a pack of cigarettes and lighting himself one. "Hypocritical coming from you."

"I know, but still." The boy walked over to the Sarcophagus and sat on it, as if it wasn't the thing currently holding one of the most powerful ghosts in the infinite realms. "You know smoking is bad for you, right?"

"What, you learned that in class?" Constantine snarked, making no move to do anything and causing the boy to sigh again, toxic green eyes looked around the room, falling over each hero present before homing in on Flash. The boy pointed to him. "You. Come here."

"Whatcha want with red?" Constantine asked and the boy simply shrugged his shoulders. "Passing on a message."

The boy blinked once, and if he was surprised that the Flash was already in front of him, then he didn't show it. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a green sticky not, motioned for Flash to bent down and stuck it on his forehead.

Superman was... concerned. There was a heartbeat there, he could hear it, but it was so slow and seemed rather weak, like the boy was near death.

"Alright, now I gotta get old mean and green back to his keep before the Observants get on my case." The boy put back on his sunglasses and got up, waving Flash away and lifting up the Sarcophagus above his head he walked over to Constantine, whose face wrinkled.

"That ain't going to fit." The warlock pointed out and the boy scoffed, probably rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "And you've fit bigger things, just shut up and lift the coat old man."

Constantine did so, and somehow the boy just shoved the entire Sarcophagus inside. The boy was very obviously smug as the blue mist that was blowing from his mouth the entire time petered out. "I'll clean up the mess on my end," The boy said before waving his hand in the Justice League's general direction. "You deal with all that."

"Just get going already, I'm not about to get those sentient eyeballs on my ass."

"Yea, yea. You got enough to deal with as is." The boy then stepped inside Constantine's cloak and as soon as the man let it drop, he disappeared.

Constantine looked around the room, silently assessing the situation as he brought another cigarette to his lips.

He lamented the fact he would have to deal with this sober.

[starkeysprincess]

⟢ YOU'RE MINE, NOT HIS

presenting kinktober day 3 ➔︎ stalker!rafe

warnings: DUBCON !! mentions of stalking, harm to minor character, use of restraints + blindfold, praising, oral (f. receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected sex, creampie, & mention of rafe taking pictures word count: 2.1k

kinktober m.list ⟡ rafe m.list

rafe stood in the fifth-level hallway of your apartment complex, digging into his pocket to find the duplicate of your apartment key he had. luckily for him, you were the clumsiest little thing he’d ever seen, having dropped your key one day, which gave him the perfect opportunity to make a copy and slip it back under the doormat in front of your apartment before you realized it was missing. 

he looked to ensure your pesky neighbors weren’t around before inserting the key into the lock and twisting it until he heard a soft ‘click.’ 

the wood floors creaked ever so slightly as his feet carried him throughout your apartment to your bedroom. the smell of your perfume wafted in the air the second he stepped into your bedroom, overtaking his senses and increasing his need for you tenfold. the tips of his fingers traced over the several pictures of you with family and friends that were delicately placed on top of your dresser. 

he hummed to himself, moving around, taking in every little detail of your room as he looked through your things. it was exactly how he had imagined it to be. 

rafe opened your closet, his attention captured by the baby pink dress you had worn the first time he saw you. he remembered how delicate and angelic you looked, like a sweet little lamb. of course, you didn’t know then that the same dress would be the start of his obsession, but he couldn’t help himself, not when you were the definition of perfect. 

he rummaged through your closet, seeking a souvenir to satisfy him. he squatted down and reached his hand into the laundry basket when a tiny lace thong caught his eye. He dipped his head down, taking note of your scent as he sniffed the dainty material. 

rafe quickly stuffed the thong into the pocket of his khakis, and his curiosity peaked at a box pushed far back into the corner of your closet, almost as if you were hiding it. 

“what are you trying to hide, angel?” he muttered to himself, reaching for the box. he removed the lid, licking his lips at the sight of a vibrator, but nothing prepared him for the pile of notes under the toy. rafe took the notes into his hand, flipping through each one, recognizing them as the notes he often left for you, “who knew you were such a naughty little thing? gettin’ off to my letters”. 

rafe’s ears perked when he heard the front door open, the sound of you, and what seemed to be a man’s voice. he quickly closed the box, putting it back where he initially found it before slipping into your closet and shutting it just as you walked in with a man following behind you. 

he looked through the shutters of your closet door, ‘what the hell is he doing here?’ rafe thought, recognizing the mystery man as alex, whom you had gone on a date with a few nights ago. he knew he couldn’t risk getting caught, being forced to stay hidden and watch the scene unfold before him as alex reached into your nightstand drawer, pulling out a fuzzy pair of pink handcuffs with a matching pink blindfold. 

his breath hitched, hearing the handcuffs closing around your wrists, his cock hardening as your soft pants filled the room as alex left open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck while his fingers pumped in and out of your sopping cunt–god, you sounded so wet, that should be me making you make those sweet sounds. 

his teeth gritted together, his resolve crumbling when alex started to unbuckle his belt. he could no longer watch, quietly stepping out from your closet, closing in on the man standing before him. rafe wrapped his bicep around alex’s throat, putting him in a headlock. alex struggled to fight back the tighter rafe squeezed his throat until his body finally went limp; you were his to touch and please, not alex’s. 

rafe wrapped alex’s belt around his wrists to bind them together before using an article of your clothing to tie around his mouth, gagging him in case he stirred awake. he dragged him to your closet, shoving him into the congested area and shutting the door. 

you, on the other hand, lay on your bed with your wrists cuffed together, looking like a pretty present waiting for him to unwrap. 

as you open your mouth to call out for alex, a small gasp erupts from your throat when you feel his fingers thread through your hair, yanking your head back. you feel soft, plump lips against yours, and you can’t help but think about how different they feel. you ultimately decide to push the thought into your head, eagerly kissing back. 

rafe trailed kisses from your lips to your jaw, burying his face into the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh as he worked his way down your body. his large palms grasped your thighs, pushing them apart to settle between them, his broad shoulders keeping you spread open. 

he dipped his head down, leaving featherlight kisses on your inner thighs, teeth digging into your skin. his hands planted flat on your upper thighs, holding them down. a shiver ran up your spine, his warm breath ghosting over your core. rafe groans at the sight of your soaked cunt, “been dying to taste you ever since i first saw you”. 

you let out a shaky gasp when his tongue ran through your folds. he licked from the bottom to your clit, flicking his tongue against your clit, pulling the prettiest sounds from you. rafe laid his tongue flat, repeatedly licking up and down your sopping cunt. his thick digits prodded against your entrance, plunging them into you as his mouth found your clit once again, sucking it into his mouth. 

“taste sweeter than I imagined,” he groans, curling his middle and ring fingers, gently stroking that spongy spot inside you. you squirm under him, your hips bucking forward when he quickens the pace of his fingers in time with his mouth, sucking harder on your sensitive bud. 

your brain tried to process his voice and decipher why his choice of words seemed familiar until it dawned on you. you knew those words by heart—having read them from one of the many letters you received that were signed off with a little ‘R.C.’. when you first received the letters, it didn’t take long to put the pieces together and figure out who was behind them. it was none other than rafe cameron, whom you shared a class with last semester. 

you should’ve been terrified that the man between your legs was the man who’d been stalking you for months, but you’ve been fantasizing about what it would be like, and maybe, just maybe, you were a little sick in the head for getting off to his letters. 

“p-please” you stammered, your back arching off the bed, wanting more as you tried to roll your hips against his fingers and mouth. “hm?” rafe hummed against your clit, gently biting down, his tongue flicking over it to soothe the minuscule stinging he caused. 

“please what? can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

“please…need your cock” you whimpered, “please, rafe”. 

rafe felt a sense of pride when his name left your mouth; many nights, he wondered what his name sounded like coming from you, and now he’s gotten to hear it. “smart girl, you knew it was me watching and leaving you all those letters and presents, huh?” he murmured against your soft skin, kissing up your body. 

his lips brush against the shell of your ear, “never knew you were such a dirty girl, you like this, don’t you? like the idea of me taking what i want while you remain helpless?”. you let out a small squeak when you were flipped over onto your stomach, his hands pulling your hips up and keeping your face squished against the mattress, “don’t worry, angel, ‘m gonna give you what you want”. 

he fumbles with the buttons and zipper of his khakis, swiftly pulling them down along with his boxers, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. his hands grasp your ankles, yanking your body closer to the edge of your bed, and his knees nudge your thighs, coaxing them to spread.

“spread your legs, baby. let me see what’s mine”. 

he gripped the base of his cock, stroking it a few times and sliding it between your slick folds, coating the head of his cock with your arousal. his fat tip nudges your wanting hole before pushing into your wet cunt, groaning as your walls stretch around him.

“so fuckin’ wet and tight,” he rasps, pushing on the small of your back to keep you down, slowly pulling out before slamming himself back in. he begins to pound his hips into yours, his hands gripping at your waist, the fatty flesh of your ass jiggling with each thrust, “pussy feels like fuckin’ heaven”. 

“tell me, sweet girl, all those nights you’d touch this pretty pussy, did you think about me? thinking about what it would be like to be fucked by the man who’s obsessed with you?” rafe grunted.

you tug at the restraints, trying to hold onto something, but it’s no use as your wrists are bound behind your back. rafe’s head lolls back as your body starts to rock back and forth, fucking yourself on his cock, your hips meeting his, “look at you…fucking yourself on my cock. god, you’re so desperate, huh?”. 

rafe leans back, sliding one hand to your wrists and grasping the chain between the cuffs. he uses it for leverage, pulling you back as he starts to thrust into you at a relentless pace. his eyes drift to watch his cock sliding in and out of your puffy cunt, “shit—poor thing must’ve been needing some fuckin’ dick, huh? she’s suckin’ me in, swallowing me whole”.

you thrash against the cuffs, moans falling from your lips, trying to pull your wrists away from his hold, and he leans forward, pressing his weight onto your back. his hips snap into yours harshly, craning his neck to bury into the crook of yours, “quit trying to pull away; this is what you were begging me for, remember, sweet girl?”. 

“y-yes” you cry out, your jaw slacks, burrowing your face and drooling into the sheets. you let out a sharp gasp as he intertwined his fingers through your hair, wrapping it around his wrist and tugging, keeping your head upright, “don’t hide that pretty face from me”.

your body aches, wrists going numb from being bound behind your back for so long, but nothing compared to the amount of pleasure you were feeling. the mixture of his thumb rubbing tight circles against your puffy clit, and the persistent abuse on your cervix caused by the head of his cock, hitting it each time he slammed into your drooling hole over and over again, was overwhelming your senses. 

“f-fuck–” you hiccup, your eyes rolling back under the blindfold. rafe shoves your face back into the sheets, keeping his hand on the back of your neck, his skin slapping against yours as he pistons his hips faster. your pussy pulses around him, tightly gripping his cock. 

“shit…squeezing me so tight. c’mon, pretty girl, milk my cock for all it’s worth and cum f’me,” rafe coos. your body trembles, pulling a moan from his lips as your walls convulse around him. you feel the all too familiar tightening in your lower abdomen, your tears staining the pink satin blindfold. your voice becomes hoarse from crying out his name as you’re sent over the edge, creaming all over his thick cock.

he grips your jaw, turning your head to the side to capture your lips with his, swallowing your cry of pleasure. his tongue pushes into your mouth, and he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing after his release.“gonna let me cum inside this pretty pussy? show me that it’s all mine?” he whispers against your lips. 

you whine in response, clenching around him again, “yeah? is that what you want? want me to stuff you full with my load?” his hips stutter, his cock twitching inside your warm, wet pussy as he comes deep inside you, painting your walls white with his thick cum.

rafe pushes into you one more time, his hips flush against your ass as he shoves his cum deeper inside you before pulling out. his hands pull your ass cheeks apart, watching your cunt clench around nothing as his cum drips out of you.

he grabs his phone, using one hand to keep you spread open while he takes pictures of his cum leaking out of your poor abused cunt, “this is just a reminder that you’re mine”.

taglist: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @cameronsprincess @starkeysbabygirl @xxbimbobunnyxx @fae-of-prey @heartsforvin @zyafics @sematarygirls @drewsarms @sturnioloshacker @userchai @bunnyrafe @nemesyaaa @drewsarms @fallbhind @rafesthroatbaby @rafestaurusgf @hallecarey1 @fallrafwe @rafecameroninterlude @johnnycakess @sturnskiss @blckbrrybasket @rafeyscurtainbangs @wearemadeofstardust0 @honeybunniesoobin @spacexdrago @starkeysbebe @spid6y @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amandabbbbb @kisses4angel @starkeysheart @rafeinterlude @flvredcas @emilysuperswag @hyperfixationgirl @ijustwanttoreadlols @slumnit @cl4uus @coco-cinnamon @zayluvss @stoned-writer @starkeyisthelastname

[misserabella]

sick love pt2

spencer reid x fem! reader

pt1!!

summary;

after catching your best friend spencer in a compromised situation, the two of you leave behind the ‘friend’ status to become a couple. if only you knew there was much more under the surface…

cw;

really perv!spencer, dark themes, somnophilia, breeding kink, daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squiring, oral sex (f & m receiving), dom spencer, p in v sex, double penetration, use of toys, unprotected sex, edging, slapping, orgasm denial, cum eating, cream pie, masturbation (m & f), voyeurism, dacryphilia, dirty talking, hair pulling, knife kink (mentioned), blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

If Spencer was absolutely and sickly obsessed with you…, it sure wasn’t the worse it could get.

His mind was in haze since the first time he made you his. I had been before, but now? It was just fog all over his brain, a fog under your name.

He could only think about you, dream about you, talk about you… It was all you.

And now that you were his, his whole heart seemed to have been ripped out of his chest. He would love to make a necklace out of it for you, so you and anyone who would try and approach you would know that he was as much yours as you were his.

But because he could not do that, he had made his personal mission to found other ways to do the same with no… Hanging hearts. So he had to conform with just marking you everywhere. Hickeys on your neck and chest, fingertip bruises on your thighs and hips, bites on your shoulders… He’ll put them everywhere and do them anywhere too, whenever and wherever he had a chance.

At first, he thought that you’d be scared by his possessiveness, but you surprised him yet once again when you’d just let him, loving his lips and marks on your skin as much as he did. He’d drag you to the closest empty classroom in free period just to pin you against the wall and attack your neck in mouth open wet kisses that had you rocking your hips against the leg that he had pushed in between your own, his cold fingertips against the warm skin of your thighs and ass, squeezing . “Looking so pretty today, baby.” he’d say, his breath against the wet of your skin making you shiver. “Fuck, I love it when you wear this little skirts of yours, got me all hard on my pants.” you’d moan when his hand would leave your skin just to fell harshly against it in a spank. “Love to see all those fuckers watching you, drooling over you yet still unable to get closer to you because they know you’re all mine...” his mouth was intoxicating, his tongue inside your mouth making your eyes roll and pussy throb. “Wear anything you want baby, anything you want.” he’d whisper, his fingertips trailing along your lower stomach just to bump against the hem of your panties and snuck under them, rolling your clit and making your head fall backwards and against the wall he had pinned you to. “I’ll make sure to mark you all up and pretty for them to know that they will never have what they so want.” and then, he’d choke you to stay quiet as he’d eat you out on top of the teacher’s table, sneaking your wet panties in his back pocket for him to fuck his fist later.

His obsession enhanced. Now that you were a couple, he didn’t have to hold it in anymore —at least that much…—. He’d sneak in your bedroom in the middle of the night to wake you up with his cock deep inside of you. You’d end up crying on his bare chest as he would fuck you dumb, filling you up with his cum for hours on end and using you as he would use his toy. Then, he’d stay inside, keeping his cock warm and your pussy full for the rest of the night. He’d even use the soft spot you had on him to make you sit on it in your stupid study dates, while napping, watching films…, saying that he wouldn’t concentrate if you didn’t.

He was a sucker for you, always tying up your shoes when the laces would come undone —taking the chance to stare at your clothed pussy—, braiding your hair for you —so he could get a sniff of your sweet shampoo—, putting on your makeup first thing in the morning when you were still half asleep —when he could steal some chapsticks for him to use and taste when he’d miss you— and softly taking it off for you when night time came… —sometimes he’d make you cry it out, fucking it out of you—. Anything he could do for you he would do, that and more.

He would often find himself in your room after telling you that he had to take a quick trip to the bathroom, looking for some new panties and little trinkets for his sweet collection and to touch himself buried in your sheets. He’d dry hump your pillow too, leaving it damp in cum for it to dry. The thought of you sleeping on it that night would have him whimpering in his own bedroom, fucking his fleshlight while watching a bad porn in where the girl’s moans sounded like your own, groans falling from his broken and bleeding lips, for constantly biting down on them. ‘Oh god, baby, so good… shit, you like that? Shit, just like that, fuck, you drive me insane…’

His photo collection had grown… Really grown. His favorite new acquisitions were the ones in which he had captured your perfectly used cunt, —his cum dripping out of it and onto your pink sheets— or the ones in which he could see his cock thrusting in your pussy, drool dripping down your chin, since his fingers where down your throat, and chest, neck and tits full of his marks. ‘Yeah, baby. Look at me. Just like that. Stuck your tongue out for me.’

He could not imagine himself nor his cock being away from you for even just a day. And who is it that you want to trick? You couldn’t either. Not when he sounded so fucking pretty every time you rode him, his usually soft groans becoming loud whimpers and moans, hips thrusting upwards in seek of more. ‘Fuck, ah, ah baby, please, please baby harder. Just like that, fuck, yes yes, shit, I love you. Love you so much… I’d do anything for you, baby, fuck, anything. Just let me stay like this, fuck! I’m gonna cum baby, fuck, fuck, fuck…’

Something he loved to do every chance he could get was taste you after cheer practice —something you’ve decided try as of late, and Spencer was all for it—. You had whined about it, saying that you were all sweaty and disgusting and that it wouldn’t taste good, but he wasn’t having it. He had been watching you turn, jump and shake your hips for almost two hours in that fucking little cheer skirt that actually drove him crazy. And he had to say that the splits that you’d do every now and then really didn’t help the tent in between his thighs. So, after your head leader had announced the end of the session, you’d find yourself holding for dear life to his hair as he kneeled in front of you, pulling up one of your legs for it to rest on his shoulder as his tongue leaped at your soaked pussy, eating you out against the lockers of the girls’ changing room. The scent was stronger after your night practices. The taste? Mind blowing. Additionally, you had to admit that the shower sex after that was enough to make you fall asleep on your way back home. Not that he found it a problem, he loved to carry you to his bed just to kiss your forehead and hug you tighter in your slumber. Watching you sleep would get him so hard that he couldn’t help himself by dry humping against your ass, hands on your tits as he kissed your neck. He loved it when you would yell at him the morning after about the new hickeys all over your skin —since he always seemed to push it too far those nights—, but he wouldn’t care less, not when your tits bounced like that and your pretty lips called his name over and over again. At the end of the day, he’d have you screaming his name in another type of scenario, and you wouldn’t be that pissed about love bites on your neck.

He also loved to tease you. Pushing your panties aside and fucking you with his fingers while in a gathering with your best friends. Your squirming and tries to not show having him rocking against your ass. Sometimes he’d even drop something under the diner’s table where you’d be eating together to get a taste of your dripping juices, making you almost cum in the spot. Or those movie nights with your group, where he’d have you crying in the nook of his shoulder due to the amount of times he had already made you cum with his fingers, deliciously overstimulating you. ‘Is she okay?’ You’d hear one of your friends ask, and Spencer would just say that you were too sensitive or too scared depending on what type of movie y’all were watching that night.

The best sex came later, when you would follow him to the bathroom and he would fuck you so harsh your cheek would end up pressed against the sink mirror, fingers down your throat to make you shut up, since your cries were so loud it almost got the two of you caught… Not that he’d care, just the thought of someone stepping in to him fucking you senseless had him filling your cunt in cum… Cum that he’d push inside with his fingers as he pushed your panties back up for it to stay there.

“Be a good girl and I’ll eat it out of you once we are alone, hm?” and he actually would, making you come two more times with just his tongue, leaving you clean.

Something he had started to look into was a little bit more…, darker. He had feared himself when the thought of you bleeding with his initials carved on your skin almost made him faint. Just thinking about you completely to his mercy, all tied up and open for him unable to move, got him unable to sleep for almost a week. He could almost hear your pleads and cries as he fucked into you with already a little vibrator bullet inside.

But the dream you both where living in had to end someday. He just wished it never had to.

That night, the two of you were returning from a day on the pool with your group, your hair still wet since you had been begging him to stay for a little longer, having to pull you out of the water when the sun had gone down and you were shivering, fingers all wrinkled due to just how many hours you had spent in there. The skin of your cheeks, chest and shoulders was sun kissed, flushed even if Spencer had made sure that you had sunscreen applied every hour. “Woah! Careful babe.” he smiled when you had slipped against wooden tiles, giggles leaving your lips when his warm arms pressed you against his bare chest to avoid you falling and hurting yourself.

“Sorry, I guess I can’t help falling for you, Reid.” he chuckled, your burning skin against his colder one making him slightly dizzy, his dick throbbing inside his blue short jeans when your nails scratched his chest, doe eyes looking up at him as you bit your bottom lip.

“That’s my line, baby.” he muttered, leaning in ‘till your breaths met, lips brushing and hips pressing against each other. You moaned when his tongue pushed inside your mouth in a hot yet lazy kiss, the hands on your hips sliding down, to your ass, where his fingers hardly dug, squeezing and pressing you against his hardening cock.

The temperature of the room quickly changed, gasps filling the air with every new kiss that you shared, his fingers tugging on the towel that surrounded you and getting it to fall to your feet. You let out a chuckle that quickly tuned into a moan when his mouth latched to your neck, bitting down hard on the flesh and leaving marks. “Spencer…” you called out for him, hearing him hum against your skin as one of his legs pushed in between your thighs. “We need to shower.”

“I’ll clean you up baby.” your cheeks flushed when his tongue made a long strip up your neck and towards your ear. “You know I’m good at that.” and you knew what he meant, but you still wouldn’t give in, hearing him groan when you pulled him away from your neck by his hair. “Baby…” his lips tried and go back to yours, but you shook your head.

“I need to go wash up.” his hands pulled on your hips to keep you closer.

“I could wash up with you.” he suggested and you chuckled, shaking your head, to what he whined, almost in pain to have to be away from you for… 10 minutes.

“I’ll be back.” you promised, giving him a little peck on the lips, leaning on his ear so only he could listen to what you whispered. “Keep this warm for me, alright?” he whimpered when one of your hands came down to the crotch of his jeans, giving a light squeeze to his hard dick, quickly leaving downstairs and scaping his hands.

Normally, Spencer was pretty patient. Hell, he had been patient with you for years on end, hoping for the day that he got to finally fuck you. But there was something about you after that first taste that had him all hot and bothered. You were like a drug. He’d always want more and more after each overdose. He couldn’t help it, you were all he had ever dreamed of. That’s why he found himself silently sneaking up stairs and straight to his room —which was connected to his private bathroom, where you had eventually brought little bottles of your own shampoos and conditioners for this little occasions where you had to shower at his house—. He had hoped to catch you stripping, maybe even looking for some of his clothes to change into, but never in a thousand years he had imagined this…

You were frozen, completely frozen. Standing in the middle of his room and beside his desk, which’s last drawer was fully open and exposed. He felt his blood run cold. That was supposed to be locked. You weren’t supposed to see what was inside, weren’t supposed to be eyeing his little collection of your naked pictures nor porn magazines with your face glued on top of the model’s. You had seen it all. All the little trinkets he has stolen from you…, all the panties that had misteriously disappeared from your drawers, the new and untouched toys he had bought in hopes to someday using in you: mouth gags, dildos, vibratos, handcuffs…Everything.

“Baby…” he stuttered, your eyes still fixated on the little polaroids and sticky pages of the magazine. It hadn’t been long since the last time he had masturbated to them. Maybe that’s why in a little slip he had forgotten to lock the drawer, the magazine sticking out far enough to catch your attention and leaving you out of words when you’d found his little dirty secret. “Shit.” You had even found his fucking diary, in which he described the dirty things he dreamed of you, that he’d love to do to you… Fucking hell.

He didn’t know what to say to not seem like the creep he was. He had fucked up big time. And now you were going to leave him, you were going to probably call the police and get him in jail with a little restraining order as a welcome gift. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, fuck, you weren’t supposed to see any of this, you weren’t supposed to…” he was trailing off as his feet quickly approached you, trying so hard not to cry that his heart fell to the pit of his stomach when a little whimper came out of your rosy and fully lips. His eyes widened when he saw the look on your face and state you were in: half-lided and glossy eyes looking up at him, cheeks and ears fully blushed and thighs squeezing and pushing flush against each other. You were supposed to feel disgusted, terrified. And yet there you were, wetter and needier than ever. “Look at me.” the low of his voice almost made you cum, walls clenching and breath hitching.

“Spencer…” you whined when his thumb and index finger harshly took your chin, making your head turn towards him. Your voice was a mere whisper, but it still had his dick jumping in his jeans and blood rushing to his head.

“Look at me.” he repeated, this time taking his time with every word to make sure you heard the warning on them. It was not a plead, it was an order. You gasped when your eyes met his, completely fucked out of your brain and feeling dizzy, Spencer made you feel dizzy, the words on his diary had. It was just so much need in them, so many promises of tears and pleasure… His eyes were just two black holes, pupils blown and breathing slow. “Look at you.” he chuckled, unable to believe any of this. You whimpered when his hand left your chin to grip your neck, pulling you against his bare chest and caging you against the wall on your back. You were boiling up, almost evaporating when his lips brushed against the conch of your ear. “Did my little secret turn you on, baby? Did that little pussy of yours got all wet while reading my diary?” you moaned when his leg pressed in between your thighs, he could feel the heat of your core against his bare thigh. “Aw of course you did, you love it, don’t you? Love to know just how much I crave you. How much I want to hurt you and make you cry on my cock. Make you bleed… Fuck you all up and pretty for me until you’re nothing more than a hole for me to fuck into, hm?” you nodded, your head falling backwards in a whimper when he pushed upwards and against your clit, making you rut on him. His lips were all over your neck, sucking on that sensitive spot that got you begging him for more. “Is that what you want, baby? Want me to fill you up on my cum? Use you? Cut you?”

“Fuck, Spencer, yessyesyes please, anything you want. Anything.” he groaned against the skin of your shoulder, biting hard enough for blood to flow in his mouth. It hurt, badly, but it only made you crave him more. Crave it more. Your hands tangled on his air, his half-lidded eyes on yours, which were fixated on his crimson stained lips.

“What is it baby? Want a taste?” he leaned in, a smirk on his face. You whined at his teasing, pushing him against you when his lips brushed against yours, still not giving in. He clicked his tongue, the hand on your neck pining you harshly against the wall, making your head bump slightly against it. “If you want something… You just need to ask.” your back arched when his free hand snuck down to your chest, tugging on your upper part of your bikini, making your tits pop out. You gasped at his harsh grip on one of them.

“Please Spencer, kiss me, kiss me…” you craved it so bad it hurt.

“Poor thing. Why don’t you open your mouth for me, hm?” you didn’t wait to follow his words, moaning when his tongue entered your mouth, the metallic taste of your blood making your eyes roll to the back of your head, hips stuttering as you dry humped his thigh. He kissed you to the verge of tears. It felt so good, the taste of your blood on his mouth, his right hand on your neck and his left leaving your nipples to slowly stumble down your stomach and slip inside the bottoms of your bikini, which laces he quickly unmade, throwing the piece of clothing aside. Your mouth fell open in a cry when his fingers bumped against your clit, a harsh slap being given to your cunt when his name fell from your lips. Your hips buckled against his hand, the sting bringing new tears to your eyes. “Be good baby, you know that’s not my name, is it?” you shook your head.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry daddy…” a smirk tugged on his lips, and he rewarded you with his fingertips back on that sensitive spot, when your mouth fell open in a whimper taking the chance and spitting inside of it.

“Now swallow.” you gratefully did, gasping for air when the hand on your neck pushed in your mouth, fingers making you whimper. “What a beautiful mouth you have…” you moaned when he thrusted his fingers in your throat. And you took it, tongue swirling and sucking on them as you rocked your hips against his fingers and thigh. “Yet no one has yet showed you how to properly use it.” you felt like crying when he took a step back, leaving you squirming and in need of his touch, which came back, harshly than ever to make you sink to your knees, fingers in between your locks. “You know your safe word, right?” you nodded as you heard the ruffling of his jeans and underwear, zipper and button unbuckled leading the denim to fall and pool around his ankles, his soaked underwear came shortly after. “Good… If it’s too much just let me know, okay sweetheart?” You moaned affirmatively when the tip of his cock pressed against your cheek, precum staining the curve of your lips when he outlined them. “Open.” he didn’t have to ask twice, lips parting ready to receive him in your mouth, which was watering at the thought of choking on his cock, of swallowing his cum. He cursed when you kitten licked his tip, the salty of the white beads on his slit making your eyes roll to the back of your head and your hands eagerly push his hips closer, head leaning in to completely take him, just to whimper when he tugged harder on your hair, not letting you get any closer. “Such a fucking slut hungry for cock.” he chuckled, loving just how needy you looked to have him in your mouth. “I bet that’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t that right? Want me to fuck that little and tight throat of yours, hm?” you nodded, a ‘yes, please daddy, want your cock so bad…’, leaving your lips, what made him click his tongue, tip pressing against your wet tongue when you pushed it out of your mouth. “Then fucking take it.” you were gagging when he thrusted inside your mouth, the hand in your hair pushing you against his dick so he could reach the back part of your throat, nose buried in his pubic hair as your nails dug on his thighs. “What is it, baby? Isn’t this what you wanted?” you whimpered when he pulled out just to ram back in, picking up a pace that had you short on air. But the feeling of his big cock fucking your mouth had you only begging for more of that harsh treatment, making you impossibly wet. You were crying due to the constant chocking and gagging, tears running down your cheeks as you took him in your mouth. “Aw, you crying?” the sight of your tears only made him buck his hips harder and faster against your face. “I couldn’t care less.” you moaned around his cock, feeling it twitching in your mouth every time you deep throated him. “Yeah, baby, fuck, take my cock, shit, just like that… What a dirty girl…” one of the hands that stood on his thighs travelled down in between your legs, fingers circling your clit in search of a release that you so desperately wanted. “Are you touching yourself?“ you nod around his cock, a whimper leaving your lips when his tip hit the back of your throat after giving you a harsh slap. “Such a desperate little bitch… Who told you you could make yourself cum, huh?” his dick came out of your mouth and you gasped for air, which didn’t actually last long since there was already a hand around your neck as he kneeled with you.

“I’m sorry— I’m sorry daddy!” you quickly apologized, taking your hand away from your soaking pussy.

“Yeah, you’ll be.” next thing you knew? Your back was making impact with his bedsheets, getting a moan out of your lips when his body pressed against yours, lips latched to your neck.

“Fuck!” you screamed when two of his fingers harshly pushed inside of you, fucking you as he sucked on your nipples, fully erect.

“Is this what you wanted, hm? Tell me baby, is this what you wanted? My fingers fucking your brains out and making you cum? I’m sure you do, you dirty whore…” you thighs trembled when he hit that sweet spot in your gummy walls, thumb circling your clit.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you nodded, unable to talk, unable to fucking open your mouth. All you could focus on was on Spencer, on his pretty fingers fucking in and out of you, of his teeth on your tits, on his cock fully pressed against one of your thighs, leaking and ready to cum.

“Fuck Spencer, i-i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna…” and as your walls clenched, you cried out when he left you with nothing. Making your high never reach its peak as he pulled his fingers out of you. Your whole body was trembling due to the denial of your orgasm, hands quickly reaching out for him, but he pressed them against the duvet, finger digging in your wrists. “Please, Spencer, daddy, shit, I was so close…”

“I didn’t say you could come yet, sweetheart. Only good girls get to cum.” oh, he was playing you. You knew this was his little vengeance for that day you had caught him touching himself. His eyes shone with lust when you whimpered due to the spank his hand gave to your soaked cunt. “Look at that. You really want it, hm? So needy for cock…” your back arched when his thumb was back to your clit, toying with the little nub enough to edge you but not to make you cum. He relished in the little pleads that left your lips. ‘Please daddy, ah let me cum, please? I’ll do— I’ll do anything, anything. Spencer, shit, please…’ “Anything?” you nodded, too lost in that sickening pleasure your body succumbed to to even notice the subtle change in his gaze. “Okay, then don’t regret it later…”

And then he was gone, leaving you completely alone in his bed as he stood up, looking for something before he would come back to you. Your half-lided eyes could get a glance of what he was holding in between his wet fingers: a dildo.

You moaned when his lips found yours, teeth clashing and tongues brushing each other as he sucked on your bottom lip. “If you’re so desperate…, why don’t you show me how much you want it?” he said once he had pulled away, tongue outlining his swollen lips as his hand —the one that hold the toy— rose up to your eyes, you whined when you understood what he was doing; swapping places.

“Spencer…” you whimpered, your cries being shut out when one of his hands cupped your face, making your lips pout out a little bit, brushing against his own.

“Come on, you said you’d do anything.“ he was smirking when his thumbed pressed against your bottom lip, dragging it backwards and then sticking it in your mouth. “Good girls get to cum, and maybe, if you put up a good show for me… I’ll fuck your just how you need it, hm?” he clicked his tongue when you nodded, tongue swirling around his finger. “Then go ahead, let me see you use the toy, sweetheart.”

He leaned backwards, letting you have your own space as he handed you the dildo. It was heavy in your hands, and pink, with just the perfect girth and length —there’s no need to say that Spencer’s cock was bigger in both ways, and much more beautiful…— with even veins on its sides.

His eyes never left you as you neared it to your gushing cunt, letting your soaked lips surround it to lube it up. You sighed at the feeling of its tip pushing against your clit, using its head to tease yourself up and down, sometimes slightly pushing around your hole. “Yeah, that’s right. Touch yourself for me… That’s a good girl.” you moaned as you saw his fist hold his hard cock, sliding up and down, slowly, as he observed you. It only made you want him more. Your back arched as you slowly pushed it inside you, eyes falling shut when you felt the burning stretch, gasping for air when you finally bottomed out with a raspy moan. He had fucked your throat for good. “Fuck, baby, just like that… So pretty.” his praising made your walls clench around the silicone as you slowly started to fuck yourself with it. “Look at you…” he chuckled when you started to pick up pace. “Needy, honey?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you hit that hidden spot, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip when a scream tried to leave your chest. “Don’t silence yourself, baby. Let me hear you.” his hand matched your pace, a groan leaving his lips at the sight of the toy disappearing in between your sticky folds.

“Spencer, fuck, please, need you so bad, need your cock Spencer, shit, right there, ah!”

“Fuck, you’re such a fucking slut…” he moaned, getting on top of your body once again, hand meeting yours at the base of the toy to harshly push it inside of you, making you scream. “You like that, hm? Like fucking yourself while I watch, yeah? Fucking whore, you love the attention, don’t you?” you were a babbling mess, drooling all over the sheets as the tip of the toy mercilessly pushed against your g spot, making you see stars behind your close eyes. “You want my cock, hm? Want my cock, sweetheart?”

“Yes please, Spencer, pleasepleaseplease, fuck me please…” your hips were bucking against his hand, begging for more. You were burning up, craving him in ways you’ve never craved anyone before. Craving for him to use you, destroy you. You moaned when the top of his leaking cock pressed against your clit, making your head spin as he continued to pound inside of you with the dildo. “Then take it, take my cock, baby.” your eyes widened when you felt him push against your hole, still filled up by the toy. You hands quickly tried and push on his chest, but you moaned when his tip went in, tears pricking at your eyes when you felt him start to push inside of you. You were so painfully full and stretched that your nails dug on his shoulder, making him moan against your neck. “Fuck. So tight. Shit.” you were sobbing by the time he was halfway in, where he stopped momentarily to let you breath. “Shhh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay, you can do it.” he was hushing you, his hands on your cheeks as he kissed the tears away. “You want me to stop? Just say the word baby, just say the word and I will…” his eyes were sweet —although lust glossed them— when he stared at you, promise on the hazel of his irises. You knew he would do it, that he would shut everything down and forget all about this. But you wanted it. Wanted it as badly as him. Craved it even. So you simply shook your head, giving him the green flag to continue. “Fuck, I love you.” he said, kissing your lips. “I love you so much…” you both moaned in each other’s mouth as his hips pushed further, slowly bottoming out and gasping when he was completely in. “What a good girl…” you were crying on his hands as he praised you, trying to breath through your nose and get the slightest used to the filling of not just one, but two cocks inside of you. “So tight for me.” your back arched when he started to move. It was slow at first, trying to get you accustomed to the feeling while making your mind drift off from the pain to the stimulation of your clit and nipples —which he sucked and bit down onto—.

“Shit, Spencer…” he smirked when your frown smoothed out, mouth falling open when he hit your g spot, legs surrounding his hips and fingers digging in his messy and silky hair. “Just like that, don’t stop, please…”

“Look at you… You love the feeling of two cocks inside you, don’t you? Filling you up so good you can’t even breath, hm? What a whore…” you moaned, exposing your neck to his lips. “Can’t get enough with just one so you must have two. So greedy…”

“Spencer!” you screamed when his thrust became harder, relentless and merciless, hands tugging on your nipples.

“Do you feel it baby? Feel your pussy all stretched out for me?” he almost came in the spot when his eyes connected with the bulge on your stomach. “Fuck, look at that. So full of me…” you didn’t mean to, but you were cumming all over his cock and the toy when his fingers pushed against it, making a scream rip out your throat as your walls clenched around him, making him groan. Everything was white and the world went absolutely quiet as you dissolved in his arms, unable to even breath at the intensity of your orgasm. “Shit, that was so fucking hot…” his hips stuttered when your walls fluttered around him. “Don’t clench on me that hard baby, feels like you are trying to milk my cock dry…” he chuckled just to curse moments after.

You were drooling on your shoulder as he thrusted inside of you. You were feeling so good by having that goddamn dildo inside of you that he felt that tightening feeling of jealousy string around his heart. “Fuck this.” he wanted you all for himself. Wanted to fuck you all by himself ‘till you couldn’t even remember you own fucking name.

You whined when he pulled out of you the toy, your walls quickly molding to his size just how he liked it. Still so fucking tight. You felt loss at the little emptiness that the toy left behind, but it quickly got pushed outside of your mind when Spencer started to fuck your brains out of you, hands on your hips as he slightly sat up, bringing you down on his cock with each new thrust. “Spencer, ah, shit, so good…, fuck, daddy, more!” he moaned when he felt your walls clench around him, the muscles below the skin of his arms flexing as he pushed you harshly down his dick, making the tip torture that spot that always made you cum in a matter of seconds. “Fuck, I’m gonna— I’m gonna…”

“Go ahead baby, cum all over my cock. Want to see it drip down your thighs.” he said, changing positions so one of his hands would be free to circle your clit.

“Shit, Spencer, fuck I’m coming!” you screamed when you felt your climax wash over you, making your body go rigid just to go limp after a couple of seconds.

Spencer continued to fuck you through it, cursing at the tightness of your soaked and swollen cunt. Fuck, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t get enough.

“Spencer, ‘s too— too much, fuck, I’m gonna cum again!” new tears travelled down your cheeks at the constant stimulation, fingers never stoping overstimulating your clit and dick harshly fucking into you, your nails dug on his back, drawing blood as you gushed all over his cock, squirting so hard you dampened your thighs and the sheets below you. “S-Spencer, s-stop…” you were crying so hard, unable to stop squirting at his constant fucking, unable to form an actual goddamn sentence, babbling in between sobs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Spencer couldn’t stop his hips, fucking you so good you swore you were fucking dying. The feeling of your pussy around him was like stepping in heaven, the dirty wet sounds of his cock pounding into you and the splashing of your juices making him lose his mind. “I’m gonna cum, shit!” he moaned when he spilled inside your abused walls, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, whimpering at the sticky and warm feeling. “Fuck, baby, so good…” he muttered against your neck as he fucked himself down his climax, hips stopping while he was still buried deep inside of you and arms failing to keep him up right, making him fall on top of you.

The two of you tried to pace out your breathing, you moaning when little pecks were given to your neck, chest and shoulder before his lips found yours, tongue entering your mouth in a lazy kiss. You fingers lazed on his locks, pulling and playing with his hair as his teeth slightly bit down on your jaw, and then your neck, and your collarbones, and your chest, and…

You hissed when he pulled out of you, cum dripping and meeting your juices on the sheets as his lips trailed down your stomach.

“Hurts?” he questioned, to what you nodded, making a slow smirk appear on his face. “Want me to kiss it better?” you let out a little gasp when he nibbled on your hip bone, lips extremely close to your heat.

He took the tugging on his hair as a ‘yes’, positioning himself better and raising your legs up on his shoulders as he left open mouth kisses on your inner thighs, little sighs leaving your lips as he neared closed and closer… “Poor baby, fucked so good it’s all sore and swollen now.” You moaned when he finally got lost in between your thighs, humming at the taste of the two of you dripping out of your cunt. Your head felt backwards as you gave into the pleasure, into his lips, into his name and fingers.

Into his sick love. Into Spencer Reid.

[prael]

A Bargain To Remember

Kinktember Day 13: Car sex

(G)I-DLE Miyeon x male reader smut

words: 4,950 Kinktember Masterlist

"Finally, a face to the name."

You know all about Miyeon, of course. She's the type of girl whose face is plastered on every screen and every street in every corner of the galaxy, a darling of the interplanetary conglomerates. From the spaceports to even the most downtrodden of back-alleys, you can probably find her face on some poster or flyer or some massive digital billboard high above you—those corporate powers that be sure want to squeeze as much out of her as possible.

The surprise is that she knows you.

Of course, it's on those screens, or the ones at home, or the ones in their pockets, that most people become acquainted with a girl like Miyeon. Those glossy eyes, her effervescent smile, her delicate but fierce features, of course, they leave an impression. They sell you dreams, products and promises. That's why you can find her all over the place—but the versions of her you can interact with— ones to purchase and enjoy—are another beast altogether.

"Can I help you, miss?" you feign ignorance of her identity as she takes the chair at the other end of your desk.

"I would like to make a purchase."

"A purchase? From me? What could I possibly offer to someone like you? I sell scrap electronics to junkies and fix the broken implants of low-life thugs. How could that possibly interest you?"

She crosses her legs, and says, "Don't play with me. I have seen your work, quite the artist you are, though I wouldn't say you exactly have my mannerisms down. The curve of my mouth, the cadence of my voice—not exactly up to par with the real deal. But as fakes go, you do well with what you have."

You scratch at the back of your head and then catch a bead of sweat forming at your temple, "Think you have the wrong guy, miss. You're talking AI and Virts here. Not my thing, definitely not my forte."

She's quiet as you look around at anything but her face. The grey concrete walls and steel beam of the roof are awfully fascinating suddenly, and then the holos playing on loop above the screens of your makeshift booth—really anything than to have to admit that your life's work consists of making and selling forgeries of people like her. She knows why she's here—the least you could do is be brave and admit to your craft.

"I tried your work myself. Quite the experience. Can't say I ever planned on fucking myself—but well, there's a first time for everything I guess."

There's enough power across your desk to not only shut you down and make it so the only tech you would ever touch again is a pair of electrified cuffs at best, and at worst she could have you put down and silently disposed.

Miyeon continues, "As I say, it wasn't entirely accurate, I'm not actually that loud or aggressive, for the record. But it was fun, so if you're thinking I'm about to expose you, not the case—I'm actually here to invest in your skill. Your art is fun, and I dare say your tastes in women, are spot on."

You let out a small nervous laugh and then say, "I don't usually take requests."

Her pink-painted lips, the gloss shimmering slightly from the bright fluorescent overhead light, form into a delicate, mischievous grin. "I'm willing to make you an offer, one you won't refuse. You get me what I want, and I'll license your work. Think about it. An official Miyeon VirtueX™, think of how lucrative an asset that could be. The whole galaxy's lining up to get a taste—and you would be the only real supply."

You lean forward in your chair to peer at her and ask, "Let's say I was who you think I am, what is it that you want from me?"

"What I want from you," she pauses and tilts her head, her eyes glance across your features briefly and her tongue traces the edges of her teeth. "Is to show me the past." She places a drive on the desk—old-tech, the kind that would never run on any kind of systems that are sold today. "You can get this working, right?"

"Is that a government stamp?" You point to the symbol on the drive. "I plug that in and I'll have execution squads here in under a minute."

"It's all above board. Officially disposed and untracked. I just need to live it, once." Her voice is quiet and pensive.

"Alright. Deal. But those two lumps of metal you call bodyguards have to stay out there, and you're coming through to my studio. If I'm gonna help, you have to play by my rules."

She flashes you a winning smile. You thought you had her pegged down but all this has proved you wrong—there was more to Miyeon than the flashy clothes and the blinding lights, a lot more. And your curiosity is getting the better of you now.

"You know, you're only the third person to ever step in here," you open up the secret passage into the back room, and gesture for Miyeon to step in.

You close the door behind you both and feel the heavy metal slide lock with a hiss.

"The first was me, naturally, and the second left it in a body bag a few years ago."

She doesn't flinch, just brushes past you and sits on the edge of your desk, running a finger along the steel as if surveying the conditions of your equipment. "Hard to imagine you make the stuff you do from a place like this," she says.

"The drive," you say as you hold out a hand.

She passes it over and you examine the shape and material. Most drives these days are designed to interface with neural implant ports or organic docks directly—this is true vintage work. It might have been what some would have called groundbreaking tech a hundred or so years ago. You hook the little device up to your primary work machine and start running tests.

She slides off the table, her hands resting on your shoulders. She bends down, her body pressed into yours as she murmurs near your ear. "How is it?"

"A mess. But a fixable mess. Should have something you can use soon enough."

Miyeon breathes gently in your ear before placing a hand on your arm, "Please, whatever you do, do not look at the contents. It's personal, just let me view it, and live it, one last time. Then you can lock it away again for all eternity and erase the copy from your server. And then you get exactly what you want from me."

You breathe in deeply, a mixture of her perfume and the thick oily scent of hot electronics flooding your brain. "Whatever, it's none of my business anyway. Now take a seat will you." You nod to the chair on the other side of the room.

The drive whirrs softly and a data scan runs to gather all the fragmented encryptions left behind on the device. Miyeon lies flat back on your chair and waits for you to connect her—she holds out her forearm expectantly.

"Come on then," she smiles sweetly and pulls a loose curl behind her ear.

You clamp your eyes tight and inhale. "Here goes nothing." You run the system at the push of a button and all the data you scraped compiles in a memory, one for Miyeon and Miyeon alone to relive. You walk over, drawing the connection from the chair and readying to insert it into her arm. "Connections like these, they can hurt, okay? Are you ready?"

"Do it." She's insistent.

A quick stab of your fingers later and the tiny prongs slide into the barely visible organic slot on her skin. Her head tosses violently and for the first time, there's fear on her face. But as soon as you have her connected, her eyelids begin to flutter. You sit a while, watching her as a million synapses all spark to life behind rolling eyes—whatever the moment is, she is in it. You leave her in peace and sit back at your workstation, waiting.

There's an artificial sensation of the atmosphere becoming slightly humid all around, the lights are a soft pastel blue, and the world is swathed in cotton wool. Silent. You find yourself completely frozen in time. It drags and yet somehow comes to a finish just as you're still adjusting to the quietude.

Miyeon's connection beeps and you turn around, removing the port from your system. She pulls the connection from her arm.

"So, tell me, was it worth the trip down memory lane? You get everything you wanted?" You unplug the old-school hardware and await the confirmation that all the corrupted data's safely expunged from your hard drives.

"Almost everything. But most things, in the end, never get a happy ending, do they?"

"Sounds heavy. The stuff that happened on there, pretty rough, huh."

Her pupils are dilated, the whites of her eyes flooded red. "Like you wouldn't believe." Miyeon climbs from the chair, finding her feet back in the real world after living in another for a precious few minutes. She blinks twice and there's a distinct film over her corneas.

"So that's it? My end of the bargain was fulfilled. And I get my licensed content?"

Miyeon turns and you wonder if that's a tear that's been cast down her cheek. "Sealed and guaranteed. Now let's give you some real data to work with. The right anatomical model, an authentic Miyeon behavioural pattern, every single unique vocal calibration, every erogenous spot, every subtle expression in real-time—have it all. One more condition. I have another memory, a real one in my head, if you make me relive that, you can record it and scrub every detail you need. Are we agreed?"

You nod. "Done. Sit there and we'll connect."

"You're going to manually record?"

"How do you think I get it all so accurate?" you tell her with a smug smile.

She sits and gives a nod. "If it's got to be done." You take a seat behind her, and you both reach over your shoulder to pull the neural connector into your napes and slot them in.

A brief flash of many realities as you slip into her consciousness and she welcomes you to her memory.

A calm setting, sitting in a car, you were driving and she's in the passenger seat. You're parked beside a winding hillside road and looking out over a city. A city you don't recognise. Miyeon's fingers dancing across your thigh with a suggestive gentleness, a sly smile.

"Where are we?" you ask.

"Seoul." Miyeon smiles.

"When are we?"

"2024."

"2024? That's over seventy years ago!"

She laughs. "Yeah? You wanted the real authentic Miyeon, didn't you?"

"Sure, but in 2024? That's just unbelievable. You look the same. How are you so—"

She leans close and traces a finger across the line of your jaw. She stares directly into your eyes and says, "We'll worry about the details later. Right now, you want what I've promised, and you've come this far, so you know what has to be done. We're already where we need to be."

Your senses are engulfed in an emotion and memories that are not your own. All a simulation and all a vivid and overwhelming experience. You're in love with her, that's the overriding feeling—the feeling of whoever she was really with at this time.

"This is the memory of the best sex of my life." She leans close to whisper to you. "So do try your best."

"This is just..." You don't get to finish, she's grabbed your shirt and pulled you close. She kisses you deeply. There is nothing of the daintiness or composure that you're used to, you've lost all your will and she is dragging you out of control. You find yourself consumed with an overwhelming and perplexing ecstasy and the idea of restraint or of reason seems unimportant now. You're driven purely by passion and by instinct—she has to have you and you have to have her, it's almost a compulsion. She's yanking off her seatbelt and reaching for your trousers, clawing at them desperately.

And just like that, you're scrambling at each other's clothes, almost frantic. You have the sensation of her breath across your face, the heat of her lips against your skin. Hands, everywhere. Exploring the curves of her body. A hungry desperation to peel back every layer of fabric to feel more, and more of her. She bites your bottom lip and looks at you with pleading eyes.

"I want you and I want you now." Her lips move like liquid lust and her hand like electricity, the energy tingles when she wraps her fingers around your cock and pulls it free from your pants.

She gasps and then giggles as if pleasantly surprised, a cute and kittenish squeal, she hums with her own approval of her actions.

"I'll be gentle," she whispers, her eyes shining with mischief. She rubs you from tip to base, taking the full length, slowly and teasingly over and again until the blood's pumping and you're at full salute. She's on her knees in the passenger seat and leaning over you. A smirk on her lips, she goes lower and lower still, her tongue warm and wet. Taking your crown into her mouth and enveloping you, her pace slow but sure.

Your hand in her hair, not to control or pressure, just to feel her in the moment. Encourage her, caress the back of her neck and appreciate every moment of pleasure. She takes you deep, deeper into her throat, the heat of her lungs, the power in her movements as she comes off and plunges again and again. It's effortless and instinct, and not for anything other than her own desire to please, and that itself is thrilling, you have to admit.

It's a strange new world for you to have sex without the enhancements of technology. It's so raw.

You sigh and whimper at every suckling pull, your nerve endings raw and singing. Her palms firmly pressing down onto the tops of your thighs, her movements grow slower, more sensual but she sucks harder, the vibrations from the moans of her enjoyment humming through the root of your shaft—fuck, it feels so fucking good, too good. She releases you with a slight gasp for air and a drooling line of spit.

She wipes her lips with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Outside, now." Miyeon doesn't hesitate. Her shirt pulled off and tossed into your face and she's leapt over to the rear passenger door, flinging it open wide, the warm night air rushes in to greet you, along with the sound of crickets. She slams the door shut and you open yours.

You climb out and head to meet her at the front of the car, she's already leaning against the metal hood. The car is one of those muscle cars from back at the time, a real classic ride that suits a woman like her. "Hey you," she rubs her hands against the metal as she leans forward and sprawls herself over it. "Get behind me already," her tongue dancing across her red-stained lips, her chest heaving in excitement, you're as hot and as hard as you'll ever be.

Miyeon tilts her head, watching you closely with half-opened eyes, her pretty pink tongue sticks out between her perfect teeth, and a teasing wink follows. She wiggles her hips, an inviting gesture, her skirt raised to reveal the gentle wobble of her cheeks—she doesn't have underwear, what a perfect minx she is—all bare for you.

She runs a hand down over the hem of her skirt and then raises it fully up over the top of her ass. As glorious as the very stars overhead. You have an overwhelming urge to run your hands across her bare flesh and as you take the first steps towards her, you find your arms reaching and touching and tracing every inch of skin that's exposed.

You run your hands over her cheeks, spreading them, kneading them, Miyeon's letting out soft little noises, encouraging you, inciting you—but fuck, this view... it's exquisite. It's so clear now, that all those fakes, the painstaking hours of recreation, simply did not live up to the real deal, and not just the view, everything is magnitudes superior.

You smooth your palm between her thighs and you part them, pulling her ass to the edge, sliding her legs open, watching as her wetness shines. "Just how badly do you want me?" you ask her.

"Look at me, how can you say something like that? Of course, I fucking want you. I hate having to wait. Come and fuck me."

You guide your cock to sit between her cheeks and rock into it gently, enjoying how those perky cheeks cradle your length and the way her whole body rocks with every movement. "Is it wrong that I love watching you squirm?" you ask, running the palm of your hand over the bare skin, digging your fingers in, grasping a handful and appreciating how it yields under your fingertips.

"Only wrong if I mind, and I don't," Miyeon groans, lifting her hips against you and smothering your dick in her deliciously juicy flesh. She is irresistible. "So what are you waiting for," her voice soft and suggestive. "Go on, you know you want to. You know how much I need it."

You grit your teeth and trace her lips with the tip of your cock, and it's like lightning flashing between you both. Fuck. Her lips are so wet and hot—they're so tantalisingly puffy. She wiggles and gyrates against you as you rest inside her opening. She groans and you're shuddering.

You slide the first few inches and gasp. You both moan softly together as you glide in, she's so much tighter than you had imagined she might feel—every inch that slides inside makes her clench you more.

"Yes," Miyeon is urgent and breathy, her muscles are contracting as though attempting to swallow your entire length. And she's hungry for it. "That's it baby, nice and deep," her words as electrifying as the sensation of her snug walls quivering as she clings on with greed.

"Like this?" you whisper in her ear as you lean over and pin her petite frame against the metal, letting her feel you, all of you. Every inch. And as she moans and shivers under the weight of your body. Your hands reach her shoulders and your fingertips find her neck, circling and caressing and massaging in all the right places—she turns her head as far round as she's able to gaze at you as she hums and gasps with each rolling movement of your hips.

Her teeth biting her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed pink, a complete dream in motion. Her body arches as she urges and wills herself back on you. You groan in return. Everything about her feels unreal in its perfection. She's squeezing against your cock, and her most hidden recesses begin to melt for you.

Miyeon cums like this, and it's without warning. She tenses, her eyes go wide and her mouth hangs open—her silky tunnel clamps tight as a vice grip. And the way she gushes all over you, covering you, she can barely breathe, she can barely let out a cry or a single noise, only ragged breathing as you hold her firmly in place and fuck her through it.

You fuck her without shame or inhibition. She whimpers, a feeble cry, every thrust powerful and deliberate. Miyeon moans what feels like your name and you give another forceful snap of your hips, both hands firmly on her slim and shaking waist. There are no words that can possibly encapsulate her.

"That's it," her breath erratic and shaky. She grinds her ass into you with every forward push, working into a perfect rhythm and going balls-deep with each pump. "Hard." You slam against her ass, the clapping sound of skin against skin—it fills the warm and humid air.

Miyeon cums again. So fucking easy to make her cum. Her beautiful brown eyes are desperate with desire. She shakes, she is panting, "Just like that, keep doing exactly that and I'll lose my damn mind. God, you feel so fucking big."

She's limp now, just taking rough, powerful and blissful strokes—her cries a series of hoarse grunts and weak moans.

You grab her by the waist, hard, she lets out a yelp, and then you're manhandling her, throwing her delicate figure over onto her back. There they are, those perfect little tits, grown red being forced against the metal of the car. Her soppy mess drips out from her thoroughly fucked hole.

"This, is all you wanted right?" You gather her legs and thrust them roughly up and over your shoulders, sliding easily back inside. Her pussy gushing and absolutely soaking. "A good rough fucking. You just love to be used don't you, baby. This is the side of you I've been missing, seeing how you have always been so prim and proper in front of everyone."

"That was your problem, all those homemade VirtueXs made me all commanding when I really just love to be taken." Her breaths are ragged.

"Maybe that's just how I'll be selling you in future then," you say.

She gives a throaty chuckle. "Do whatever the fuck you want, but for now," Miyeon takes a tight hold of her knees, and draws them against her chest. "Make me cum again, please."

You have her absolutely filled with every inch of cock and stretched tight with every savage drive of your hips, again, and again, and again. Sweat forms a light film over every curve and groove of her form. She's gorgeous, she's taking it, and she's loving it. "Let me feel you cum," she breathes between pumps and thrusts, her fingers kneading the flesh of her thighs as she spreads herself as open as is physically possible.

A combination of pressure and adrenaline, you're hammering deep. Miyeon is groaning and pleading. A loud moan, a series of short sharp exhales and whimpers. Those narrow hips are trembling, her slim thighs shake, toes are curled. Her orgasm and invitation for you to join her come as a surge.

You explode. Locked, sheathed so deep and full, you fill her. "Cum so much..." Miyeon sighs in awe. Your climax is euphoria.

Both a sweating, quaking mass of interlocked limbs, you pull away and your drenched cock slips out. "How are you real," you exhale. "Never felt anything like you."

"I am one of a kind." Miyeon laughs gently to herself. "Now let's get back in there and you can fuck me some more."

You're in the backseat now, Miyeon's slender body climbing all over you. She leans in and takes your lips, her sticky lip gloss and the sweet taste of her mouth as she invades with her tongue and leads yours into a frenzy. Her fingertips drag down across your chest. She's positioning herself over your cock.

The beauty of simulation is there's no recovery, only the chasing of the next orgasm, and she's keen to provide the means. She takes you with her eyes closed, a small, grateful moan and she slides herself slowly up and down. Your head arches back with a cry as she holds onto your shoulders and glides her lips down over your shaft.

"Gonna ride you," she whispers as she rocks herself in time with the rise and fall of your breaths. "Ride you until you explode again." Your fingertips squeeze into the supple curves and muscles of her torso.

It is a euphoric ecstasy. Miyeon looks perfect riding a dick. She sinks down low, grinding back and forth. She moves like waves, her hair stuck against her cheek. You take hold and move the strands out of the way, before trailing down the bare skin of her neck and to her tits, groping them firmly.

"Been so long since I last got to do this. Missed how big you are." She grasps the headrest as the speed and intensity of her motions increase. "Yeah, that's it, baby."

Her eyes flutter and her head starts to fall further and further back. Erratic, out of control, wild—she starts slamming her ass down hard. Fucked-slack and oozing, her juices dripping down. She's growing quiet and you watch her expression transform, her eyes turn glassy. You watch her face strain in her pleasure, it's a wonderful sight—pure bliss. Then she erupts into moans as her body convulses and spasms, and all you can do is hold her steady, her hole throbbing tight around you. She gasps, desperate for oxygen, every fibre and nerve singing in harmony.

From one, right into chasing the next, Miyeon lifts herself, turns, presents her ass to you and sits back on your cock. You watch it slip up between her cheeks and disappear inside her cunt once more, she hums a content sigh and leans forward. Miyeon braces herself against the window of the car, looking over her shoulder as she moves.

Her groin rocks and grinds on your shaft in a rolling motion and it's heaven itself. That cute, perky ass smacks on your groin in a sensual motion. Her hand snakes between her legs. Her moans grow in strength and volume. Wet, slippery, soft, Miyeon's fucking you and riding herself to her own orgasm. She starts to tremble. You start to tremble. She's squirming wildly, desperate for her climax, that gorgeous cunt squeezing every inch and driving you crazy.

And you lose it. Another intense explosion that makes you clasp onto her ass and hold it steady. A groan rips through your entire body, and you empty everything you have. She cums the instant she feels the heat spread through her. A unified orgasm. Pure heavenly relief. The energy seems to drift into the air and the car rattles beneath you both. It is incredible. The euphoria is otherworldly.

"Tell me that was good," she asks softly.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Again. Again. Please, one more time?"

"It's your head, sweetie. Have at it."

"Hmm, I suppose it is. Then I want to sit on you, and I want it in my ass." Miyeon giggles and slips herself off you, a mixture of your cum and hers falling down her thighs.

"Whatever the fuck you want," you groan, delirious as Miyeon pulls you up to the seat and then takes her place on your lap, she spread her legs out over yours and you take her hips, guiding her ass onto your cum-soaked cock. Everything is a fucking blur but the sensations are turned up to eleven, and there is nothing else that is comparable.

You plant kisses on her hot, sweaty back as you slide her down onto your length. She's twitching, and squirming. You hear her let out a soft gasp of delight at the invasion. The tightness, the constricting squeeze is just...

"Oh yes..." Miyeon breathes softly. "Let me... let me do the work now, let me fuck this big hard dick with my tight ass." She circles her hips, drawing on your cock with a slow, tight, merciless motion. Your world starts spinning all over again. She's slick with sweat, her cheeks grinding on your thighs, the scent and the sex drives you fucking wild. "What a perfect dick. I could do this all day."

You lean your head forward, and sink your teeth into the muscle of her shoulder—a flurry of loud moans from Miyeon as she bounces on your shaft. The sloppy sounds, the music of her pleasures, the clapping slap, it's insane and exhilarating. You lick her sweat from her flesh, tasting her.

She's slick and stretched, clamping around your cock as her pace quickens and turns ragged and urgent. It's a whole other level, it's unparalleled and all-consuming. You're just about ready to blow inside her ass.

"Hold onto me," She pants, grasping your left wrist and bringing it over to her mouth, placing your fingertips upon her tongue and sucking. It is lewd and erotic and exciting and your insides begin to churn and ache.

There's no stopping you now, you erupt again, gripping her waist as your hips buck up on instinct, jamming yourself deep and blowing. Miyeon moans around your fingertips—taking your load while still rubbing her swollen little clit.

"Yes, I love it when I make you cum like that," she murmurs, sliding herself slowly off your half-mast cock and crawling off your lap. She throws herself down on the seat in a heap, peering down at the thick mess of cum dripping out of her freshly fucked orifices, a dazed smile, satiated.

You blink and try to get her into focus but it's to no use—she blurs and vanishes before your eyes. And soon, you're back. Your workshop, in your chair, and still hooked into Miyeon. Still sitting back-to-back, your foreheads damp, breathing hard and ragged. The lights flickering a bright electric blue.

"Incredible," you breathe.

Miyeon sighs. "Yeah..." She detaches the link from behind her ear. Miyeon climbs to her feet, shakily making her way around your workspace. "I'm such a mess," She says, touching under her dress.

"Fuck, yeah me too," you sit there trying to process what just happened.

"I want a copy. The whole thing." Miyeon places a card down on the desk.

"I'll get started."

[ribbonprincess]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

"my eyes burn,rafey..." you whine,tugging at his shirt while he sits on the couch,selling drugs you don't even wanna know about.

"I told you to not wear contacts tonight and you still went and did that,so I don't wanna hear anything." Looking down at the bands of cash as he counts them before putting them in his pocket. "but my head really hurts and the music Is loud-" "and what do you want me to do? tell them to lower it down cause the princess over here is sick?"

You hated when he got like this,way too mean after snorting coke all day long. "you're being mean...stop it." Searching through your bag for the tiny container of the contacts you pull it out, carefully wiping your hand with a wet wipe before removing the contacts from your eyes as you sigh in relief,closing the lids before throwing the container back in the bag; this time searching for your glasses.

"rafe,do I look stupid?" You ask,gazing at him with your glasses now sitting on top of your face and a small pout on your lips. "you don't look stupid,but you are for asking such a dumb question- you're the prettiest girl,yeah?" Tugging you closer with an arm wrapped around your shoulders,before pressing a kiss to your head.

"I'll finish selling and then we can leave if you really want to,okay? "okay..." Nodding at his words as you look around the party.

꒦꒷︶°꒷︶°︶₊˚ʚɞ˚₊︶°︶꒦˚︶꒷꒦

A couple of hours later you find yourself in the bathroom of his room,wiping away your makeup off before proceeding with your skincare routine as Rafe stands at the doorway,only a pair of sweatpants on his body.

"feeling better,kid?" He asks,moving over you as he wraps his arms around your waist. "not really,Advil is not working." Turning around after you finish your rituals, you smile a bit. "hi daddy" "hi angel..." Pulling you closer as his chest flush against yours,grabbing your chin as he smirks "too tired tonight?" "a bit...don't feel really like doing anything crazy-"

"you're gonna let me eat it?" Gasping out loud you hide into his chest,giggling quietly. "yeah...fine,but nothing else-"

Making an instant move as he hoists you up in his arms,sitting you on the counter of the bathroom,pressing your lips together hungrily. "fuck,yeah yeah- just let me taste you" Running a hand over your cami top as he squeeze at your left tit,moving his mouth lower as he sucks on the skin of your neck. "you smell so good" "it's the perfume you bought me for valentine's day" Smiling as he pulls down your top,latching his mouth on your nipple as his other hand move slowly on your shorts,pressing on your clothed clit. "no panties right? you know I don't like those on when we're at home"

Shaking your head with a yelp,you grab his hair pulling a bit "rafe-" "I know I know...I got you darling" Pulling down your shorts he smiles,sitting on his knees on the cold floor of the bathroom as he grabs at your ass cheeks,bringing you closer to his face. "Bon appétit" He mumbles before diving in.

Pressing his mouth on you as he basically makes out with your heat, sneaking a finger into your needy hole as his mouth sucks on your clit. "fuck- rafe.." "yeah,I know I know baby,I got you." Adding a second finger as his tongue licks everything he possibly can,savoring your juices as he loudly slurps making you almost embarrassed if it wasn't for the fact he was giving you the best head ever. "you're gonna cum for me baby and you're gonna do it loud and hard" Nodding as you grind your heat on him,his nose bumping deliciously on your clit making you moan out loud,pulling at his scalp "daddy- fuck, right there"

Keeping his rhythm steady his fingers curls into your spongy spot, making your head tilt backwards as your hand blindly searches for your glasses "rayray...my glasses,wanna see you.." Looking up at you,he uses his free hand to take your glasses from the counter,not stopping any motion as he puts them on your face. "thank you" Fixing them a bit, you look back down at him as his hand moves back down your throat,squeezing a bit before stopping back on your boob,pinching at your nipple.

With the final stimulation you scream "m cumming,fuck fuck!" Pushing his face more into you,you cum loudly closing your eyes in pure bliss as he slows the movement of his fingers, pressing a final kiss to your clit before coming back up. Wiping the juice off his face with a hand before sticking the same fingers into your mouth,making you gag as you lick them clean. "how's that sweetie? your headache gone?" "what headache?"

[luveline]

i just bought the actual cutest spider-man hoodie and now i’m thinking about peter seeing reader wearing spider-man merch !!! <333

The thwack is telling. You hear the splat and your heart jumps out of your chest, that weird wet sound against red-brick wall, and then you realise what it means and start to panic. 

“Hey, woah woah woah!” Peter says, jimmying open your bum window with a too-strong hand. “It's just me, don't panic.” 

You clamber off of the desk chair you're in and rush into the bathroom. 

“Hello?” 

“Two seconds!” you shout, closing the door hard behind you. You can hear the light pad of Peter's footsteps on the floor from the window, but after that he must disguise the weight of them, and you're doubly startled by his knock. “Two seconds, Peter.” 

“Uh… no?” 

You look around frantically. “What do you mean, no?” 

“You're freaking out? Let me in? Like, right now?” 

“None of those were questions.” 

Peter starts to rattle your door handle. “I'll break it!” he threatens, his voice in that funny place where he's joking but not, the same tone he uses to mess with bad guys who underestimate him. You're being teased. 

You pull your shirt over your head just as he opens the door. “Hey, turns out it wasn't locked.” He blinks at you. “Um. Hello to you, too? This isn't the welcome I was expecting.” 

“Cut the smarm. I got, uh. Soup on me.” 

“Soup.” 

You nod fiercely. “So much soup.” 

“You know I'd smell it, right?” he asks, his hair damp with sweat, the mask stuffed in the pocket of his suit and threatening to fall out as he grabs your shirt. His reflexes are too fast to stop him, as he anticipates your movements before they truly happen. 

You stand there in your teeny vest top, crossing your arms over your chest and staring at any spot that isn't his face as he throws out your shirt and takes in the graphic design on the front. 

He looks between you and the shirt smiling like a fool. He laughs, and he tilts his head one way then the other before laughing again. 

“What's so funny?” you challenge. 

“Put this back on,” he says back, matching your demanding tone. “Right now.” 

“No way.” 

“Put it on! You're indecent. Here, I'll help.” 

It's not funny how quickly you lose, shrieking and pushing backwards into the shower as Peter tries to force your arms through the shirt. You laugh as he grabs you and he knows he can keep going, pushing the shirt over your head and his knee between your thighs, and suddenly you've got Spider-Man's emblem on your chest again, the end of the shirt bunched above your stomach. You're both breathless from the scuffle. He stares at your merch. 

“My eyes are up here.” 

“Shut up,” Peter says just as quickly, kissing you hard. A rough and short thing, the glove of his suit on your naked hip. You breathe out in a rush and kiss back, not feverish but getting there, never not happy to feel the seam of his lips parting against yours. He yanks back, “Is this–” 

You kiss him again before he can ask if it's alright. You like a good fight, and it's hard for him to make fun of you for the shirt when you're kissing. He kisses you long enough to make you dizzy, thumb under the hem of your embarrassing apparel. 

He brings his hand to his mouth to bite off his glove and hits the shower with his elbow, a rain of droplets falling from the head like shards of ice down the back of his neck. He pulls away, blinking, and you laugh at his misfortune tauntingly.

“Cold night in Queens?” you ask. 

He wipes at his neck. “Warm for you. You are never taking it off. Never.” 

“What, you like it?” you ask. 

“Just enough to chase you into the bathroom, yeah.” 

“Friendly neighbourhood pervert,” you say happily. 

He wipes his wet hand down your bare stomach. “And his number one fan.” 

[rinhaler]

😩🤌 HOLD OOOOON JEALOUS UNCLE SUKUNA PLEASE? Extra Rough with a Sprinkle of loving

I got carried away but when don't I get carried away tbh also this is super icky sorry in advance hehe

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, incest, kinda cheating?, vaginal penetration, anal mention/slight teasing, degradation, pet names, jealousy, possessiveness, hair pulling, spanking, squirting, creampie.

words: 4.3k

There are eyes on you that you don’t feel. For the first time in your life, you don’t feel them. You’re engrossed in your phone as you swing gently in the hammock chair on your porch. The one that’s been continuously taken care of and maintained by him.

He watches you as you smile and bite your lip, your thumbs moving a mile a minute as you send reply after reply and wait with bated breath for a response in return. Even clearing his throat does little good. Is he really so invisible to you, now?

“Who is he?” he asks, muttering to your younger brother as he stands at the entry gate in your front yard. Your brother is confused, unsure of who he’s talking about. He looks around, until Sukuna looks at him directly. “You aren’t that stupid, are you? Look at her. Who’s the idiot she’s texting?”

Your brother looks in your direction, the cogs coming to life in his brain as he realises what he’s talking about. He smiles at him, but it soon fades as he sees your uncles disgruntled expression.

“Oh, she’s been bringing this guy around a lot called Megumi but she keeps saying they’re just friends. We all think it’s bullshit but—”

“That’s enough.” he groans. He puts his finger and thumb into his mouth and whistles loudly. Your eyes dart up from your phone, your giddy expression soon changes to one of surprise. “Hiya, princess.” he greets you, disappointed expression unchanging.

You get up from your seat, dropping your phone, and walk over to him. Even with both of his hands filled with gift bags, he wraps one around you and holds the small of your back. He kisses your cheek sweetly, pulling away to look at you properly.

“You’re getting prettier by the day, sweetheart.” he finally smiles. “You should drop out and become a model.”

“Looks fade, uncle Ryo, I’ll be a lawyer ‘til I’m old and grey.” you smirk. “You got us gifts again? You didn’t have to.”

“Speak for yourself.” Yuuji mumbles as he walks by you and into the house.

Your uncle shakes his head at him, a warm smile returning to him as he looks at you. You allow him to guide you inside, your phone a distant memory while his hand holds your shoulder.

You join Yuuji in the front room, sitting beside him on the couch while your uncle places the bags in front of you both. He sits nearby, in your dad’s old chair, while he watches you both sift through your gifts.

Well, you assume he’s watching you both. But those ruby eyes of his remain perfectly fixed on you. They wander to Yuuji every so often when he expresses gratitude for the gifts he’s received, but all he cares about, truly, is you.

“Is this a new laptop?” you ask, jaw almost dropping to the floor as you see it. “This must have cost a fortune. You didn’t have to do this.” you smile.

“It’s fine, I got you both one. What’s the point of my sister having kids if I can’t spoil them? Where is she, by the way?”

“Wait,” you stop him as you go through the rest of your gifts. “New stationary, bags, files. You got me all of this stuff for college? Thank you.” you beam. You jump up and sit in his lap, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing tightly, the intensity makes him wonder if you’ll ever let go.

Unfortunately for him, you do.

“She texted me a few minutes ago saying they’ve changed her shift and she won’t be back until late.” Yuuji says nonchalantly as he continues looking through his stuff.

“What?! She said she’d give me a ride tonight. I’m gonna have to get a taxi, where’s my phone?” you ask, leaping up from your seat in your uncle’s lap as you check all of your pockets. You head towards the front door to check the last place you’d been with it, when you suddenly feel his hand encase your wrist.

“Talk to me.”

“She’s meant to be taking me to the movies for my d- uh, I’m meeting a friend.” you explain.

“Boyfriend, you mean.” Yuuji mumbles before coughing loudly to cover up his comment.

“Shut up.” you snap back. “But I’m gonna have to book a taxi and start getting ready now in case I’m late. Thanks for the gifts, uncle Ryo.” you smile as you turn away to leave. But he squeezes your wrist hard, pulling you back to him.

“I’ll take you. Alright?” he tells you. “Just let me know when you’re ready to go.”

“Really?” you smile. “Thank you.”

“… What are uncles for, hm?”

Hours pass, time spent doing your makeup and choosing an outfit with texts sent to Megumi in between. Sukuna’s foot has been tapping incessantly as he waits for you, resisting the urge to check in on you every five minutes. He’d give anything to be in your room while you dress, allowing him to approve of your attire.

But instead, you appear hours later in a pair of shorts that would make him lose control in his younger years, but even now, he feels stirring in his slacks. A slight tightening that he’s fighting to ignore.

“Not leaving anything to the imagination, are you?” he grumbles, looking you up and down. You’re too irritated by his comment to notice the fact his eyes linger on your bare midsection and rake over your chest. Your little crop top almost looks too small for you, to him, with the way it accentuates your tits. “It’s a bit much for a movie.”

“Don’t start, I’m not changing. It’s so hot out I just wanna be comfy. Can we go?”

“Move, then.” he scowls.

You scoff, walking out ahead of him. He watches as you walk away before trailing after you. You’re mistaking his rage for sulking. You’ve never seen your uncle angry, not really.

If only you knew, he’s seething.

You spend twenty minutes in the car with him, panicking that you’re going to be late. You’d hate to picture Megumi there, waiting for you all on his own. You’ve texted him a few times to let him know you’re on your way, but you’re yet to hear back from him.

“Can you, like, do something?!” you ask before gluing your eyes back to your phone.

“What?” your uncle responds, teeth clenched as he looks over to you. His anger brewing further as he sees Megumi’s name with a bunch of heart emojis at the top of your phone. “Should I pick up the car and carry you it through the streets for you, darlin’?”

“If it’ll get us there faster, yes.”

“Tch.” he scoffs. “You know the world won’t end if you put your phone down for five minutes.”

“I’m letting him know I’m gonna be late! Is that alright with you?!”

“Him. The boyfriend, not friend. You lied.” and before he can stop himself, he speaks without thinking. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Your eyes widen at his words. And you can’t decide if you’re furious or devastated. Ashamed? Is he ashamed of you? You don’t know why he would be. He’s never said anything so mean to you before. In fact, you don’t think he’s ever said anything cruel to you in your life.

“What’s your problem?” you speak, your volume a little louder than intended.

“You are. I don’t even recognise you. Throwing yourself at college boys and dressing like a little slut. I thought I brought you up better than that.”

“You didn’t bring me up. Just because you visit with gifts every few months doesn’t mean you’re my fucking dad, Ryo. You’re barely an uncle.” you bite back. There’s more you could say, but you’re silenced by an incoming text from Megumi. “FUCK! I’m so stupid. Take me home, I got the time wrong.”

He grunts, turning the car around roughly before he parks down a nearby alleyway.

“Get out.” he orders.

“Huh?”

“Get out of my car, princess. You think you can disrespect me like that in my own fucking car? Get out and call a cab.”

Your heart sinks when you realise he’s far from joking. He actually wants you to get out of his car. In fact, he’s waiting for it. It’s hard to know if it’s genuine, if he’s legitimately planning on leaving you in a creepy alleyway all on your own and driving away. You hope he’s just trying to scare you, but the air is getting thicker.

His stare becomes harsher.

Your heart beats faster.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to disrespect you…” you pout. “Don’t make me get out, please. You’ve been so… off with me today. And I’m embarrassed I got the time of this date wrong and—”

“So it is a date after all, huh?” he sighs.

“We’re, ugh, we’re friends but—” you cover your face in embarrassment. “We keep talking about taking things further, but it’s just a movie I don’t know if it’s a date. Maybe we’re just gonna be friends forever and he isn’t interested at all.” and with that, you’re officially sulking, humiliated that you spilt your little secret to your uncle of all people. You feel his eyes on you, but you don’t want to look.

If they’re the same harsh eyes that told you he’s ashamed, you don’t want to see them ever again.

“Is that why you’re dressed like an easy whore tonight? Hah? Thought he’d be more interested if you put more on show.”

“Why are you being such a dick?!” you yell. The silence is too much, his bewildered face catches you off guard. It’s like he hadn’t expected you to raise your voice. You both maintain your silence, equally at a loss for words. But it goes on too long, and unintentionally, you feel the need to fill it. “What, are you jealous? Bet it’s been a while since you got any action, old man.”

“Old?” he scoffs. “What are you talking about, action? You wouldn’t do that… would you?” he asks, there’s venom coating his tongue, but it’s overridden by curiosity.

“Why do you think I dressed like such a… ‘little slut’, huh?” you laugh as his expression changes once again, he’s uncomfortable, so you decide to poke the beast. “We got seats in the back row… I don’t even care about the movie, it’s just an excuse to put our hands down each other’s pants.”

“That’s enough.”

“Why?”

You watch him as he unbuckles his seatbelt with haste. If you had blinked you would have missed it, and it’s not long before he does the same to yours. You’re weightless as he pulls you from your seat and into his lap, a few pathetic ‘ow’s’ leave your lips as he positions you over him.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, a combination of worry and curiosity overwhelming you.

“You really wanna get felt up at the movies by a little college boy? How pathetic you are… I thought you were better than that.” you’re too stunned to speak as his words consume you. Has he always been so protective of you? Has he always had this side to him? You don’t want to move. You barely want to think in case he doesn’t like how your thoughts sound. You gulp, nervously, and he smirks in amusement.

His fingers trail lightly across your chin before he holds it carefully between his thumb and forefinger. He licks his lips as his eyes examine your features. There is hunger in his ruby irises, a starved man sizing up the meal he’s worked so hard for.

But he’s patient.

He thinks it’ll be fine, nothing he does will make you object.

Though he can’t be too careful. So he proceeds with caution, allowing his fingers to carry on tracing downwards. Your wide eyes turn to a heavy lidded gaze as you feel the pads of his fingers softly dance across the column of your neck. His eyes follow the path they take, looking up once or twice to make sure you still aren’t opposed to his touch.

You gulp, again, when you feel him touch atop your breasts, and his eyes stay fixed on yours for a moment longer. But he’s greedy, now, unable to withstand the growing bulge in his pants or the thoughts he has about you in order to cure him.

He hooks his index finger into the low scoop of your crop top and pulls downwards. You’re unable to stop yourself from shuddering, and he looks up at you with a sympathetic stare.

“This is… wrong.” you speak, a slight whimper in your voice.

He grins, though he tries to hide it from you.

“How can it be wrong, sweetheart?” he asks. He holds your hips in heavy hands and pushes you down onto his clothed erection. “Feel how good you make me feel? Let me make you feel good, too. Megumi won’t satisfy you, I promise you that.”

“Ryo…” you sigh, soon stifled as he helps you roll your hips onto him. “It’s wrong… you know it is…”

“Well, maybe I don’t care,” he hisses, his cock leaking from the friction between you. He allows his head to droop back against the head rest behind him, smiling up at you as he realises you’re beginning to move all on your own. “I don’t think you do, either.”

Your eyes fill with water, and you bat your eyelashes in a bid to dismiss it. How did this happen? How did you get to this point? Maybe you’ve been waiting for Megumi for too long. Maybe some part of you knew you’d end up here with him. And maybe you want it just as much as he seems to.

“Naughty girl… give me a kiss,” he demands, fingers caressing the column of your spine before he pushes you down towards him.

A little whine escapes your lips before you submit to him. The feelings of his bulge nudging against your clit is enough to make you lose all sense. It’s clumsy and uncomfortable, a chaste kiss as if you were kissing your uncle turns into a sloppy, tongue tangling kiss as you soon dismiss that familial bond.

He pulls away, groaning slightly before he yanks down your crop top and exposes your bare tits.

His jaw tenses as he looks up at you again, as if he were withholding something he so desperately desired to say. But instead, he silences himself, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking experimentally.

Your eyes roll back into your head, your hand carding through tufts of pink hair. It’s been a while since you’d been intimate with anyone like this, the sensation making you weak and needy. The slightest touch feels enough to make you cum, though you hold back, savouring the way his hand holds your other breast and rolls your nipple between his finger and thumb.

You wonder if he sleeps around a lot, you wonder if he’s gotten laid recently. You want to know how good he is. You’ve heard from girlfriends that older men do it better, but you’ve never experimented so cavalierly, you wouldn’t even know where to meet one.

Little did you know you’ve had an older man vying for your attention all along.

“How do you like it?” he asks, breath fanning across your drool soaked tit before he swaps which one he suckles. You hiss a little as he grazes your perked nipple purposefully between his teeth.

“I— It’s good,” you say, shyly, body heating up further when you hear a small laugh leave his lips.

“No, baby. How do you like to fuck?” he asks again. You think you might pass out from the shame. Though it’s shameful enough that you’re allowing your uncle to suck your tits. You screw your eyes shut before opening them again, hoping that this could possibly be a bad dream you just need to wake up from. But he’s still there when you open your eyes, still looking up at you with a cocky grin as he observes your embarrassment consuming you.

“I don’t— I don’t really—”

“You’ve proven yourself to be a little slut, so you must have a preference. What happened to that mouth of yours, huh? You were so desperate to talk about your little classmate touching you up later.” he reminds you, and you pant from the humiliation. Any attempt to wriggle away is halted by him wrapping his arms around your torso and keeping your body glued to his. “How many little pricks have you let slut your cunt out, sweetheart?”

“Ryo…” you gasp, breathing becoming erratic. It’s too much, he chuckles as you start to fan yourself. “I don’t know anymore. I can’t think.” you explain.

“Have you lost count, princess? That’s disgusting, don’t you think?” he tuts, mock repulsion lacing his words. He only half means it. He’s disgusted that so many useless little boys have felt you wrapped around them without any inkling of how to truly satisfy you. “They don’t matter, now. No one will make you feel as good as I’m going to, you won’t want anyone else when I’m through.”

“This is… it’s a one time thing. Okay?” you tell him, and his smug smile only grows wider.

“We’ll see,” he starts, his fingers dig into the flesh of your ass as your shorts ride up. A pathetic yelp flees from you as his stinging palm lands on your body. “I don’t really care how you like it, I was just curious.”

“… how do you like it, Ryo?”

“It depends, princess.” he bites his lower lip. “But if it’s just this once, you’ll let me fuck you how I like. You’ll be a good girl for uncle Ryo, won’t you?”

You blink a few times. Are you really so easily manipulated? Are you really still grinding down on the throbbing bulge of your uncle? Your silence speaks volumes, to him. And with his patience wearing thin, you find yourself being thrown awkwardly into the back seat.

He takes a deep breath before stepping out, from behind the wheel and opening the back door.

You watch him as he unbuckles his belt, and he smiles when he notices you watching. He slows down the action, allowing you to savour the sight of him undressing. He stops after his cock springs free, slapping off his abdomen and leaving a pretty trail of pre on his pristine white shirt.

“Have you never seen a big dick before? You look scared.” He chuckles. You don’t say a word, and without realising you’re shaking your head. You thought you had, but apparently they were nothing in comparison to actual big dicks. You’re terrified, almost horrified, but you can’t look away.

Not until he tells you.

“Sluts take it from behind. Turn around.” he orders, and you immediately position yourself onto your hands and knees.

You squeal when his fingers curl into the waistband of your shorts and yank aggressively. He doesn’t pull them off, they remain around your thighs and keep your legs perfectly pressed together. His cock throbs at the sight, holding one of your ass cheeks and moving your lower half from side to side. You’d decided to forgo panties, and he couldn’t be happier.

The sight of your drooling cunt makes up for what has felt like an eternity of patience.

You scream, again, as you feel a multitude of spanks in quick succession. He thinks he might legitimately lose it at the sight of your holes clenching, and surprise rips through you as you feel a thumb pressed to your puckered hole. You cover your mouth to stop you from yelping at the unexpected touch, but he merely groans.

“Have you taken it here before?” he asks.

“… no… I h—aven’t,” you answer honestly. He hums in contemplation. He spits down onto your asshole and rubs his thumb across it gently.

“Next time, hm?” he muses to himself. Despite his words, he guides his cockhead to your tight hole. The thick tip rubbing teasingly against it. He doesn’t breach it, but the teasing alone feels pleasant. “I think you’ll like it…”

And with that, he moves from your rear entrance and plunges brutally into your drooling slot. You cry out, the unexpected entry taking you by surprise. He hushes and coos as your walls adjust to his girth.

The intensity of the pressure gives away to pleasure soon enough. Internally, he wants to be rough with you. He will be rough with you. However, he can’t ignore the fact that you are and always have been so precious to him. The thought of hurting you is hold him back.

But a deeper, darker part of him with a bruised ego overrides his conscience.

His fingers grab your hair harshly and wrap around his hand as if you were a dog on a leash. He pulls you until your back arches gloriously for him, and he uses the leverage to fuck into you harder.

He’s all too aware of the risks he’s taking. If anyone were to walk by they’d see exactly what he’s doing and has made no attempt to hide. Standing confidently outside the car with your ass on full display for anyone who’d dare to look. He could get arrested, your family could find out.

But it’s been too long of a wait for this taboo coupling for him to let something so trivial deter him from this. From you.

He’d like to hold off in favour of extending your pleasure. He’d like to see you cum and make a mess of his cock before he fills you to the brim with his creamy load. He’d like to see your pussy twitch and struggle to hold in his kids after he fucks them into you.

But he’s just a man, after all.

He doesn’t care if you cum anymore. He did, but this is for him. His heavy tip rocks repeatedly into your sweet spot and your raucous moans are bound to catch attention sooner or later. He’d love to stifle you in some matter, whether by covering your mouth or shoving his cock down your throat. But he can’t. His hands are still filled as one remains wrapped around your hair and the other keeps a bruising grasp on your hip.

He wants to tell you to shut up, he wants to tell you you’re being too loud and you’re soon to be spotted. But he can’t, he’s proud of you. Your pussy begins to suck him in and pulses around his thickness.

He chuckles and further fuels your shame as your pussy begins to gush from the pressure. Clear liquid jets out of you, dousing his cock, your shorts and his leather seats as you cum from the staggering sensation of being ploughed by your very own uncle.

The sight has him gritting his teeth as he uses your quivering cunt to reach his own satisfaction. His head falls back as he spurts stream after stream of viscous white cum into your womb. The warmth makes you hum contently, giggling as his movements slow, still determined to fuck his seed deep into you. He doesn’t even want to pull out, but the chill of the night air brings him to his senses.

You’ve been lucky to get away with this.

He pulls out, admiring the sight of his sperm dripping down into your shorts as he tucks himself away.

Your body is tired, but you find the strength to pull up your now soiled shorts before slowing making your way back to the passenger seat. You sigh, taking a few deep breaths as you contemplate what just happened.

“You look tired.” your uncle says casually as he starts up the car.

He’s right. You look at yourself in the mirror before you fold it back up, too disgusted with yourself to even look at how dishevelled and smeared your perfectly applied makeup has become. It’s all ruined. There’s no point in seeing Megumi, now. As excited as you were, you can’t go like this. You can’t let him see you like this.

Whenever you see someone walk by as your uncle drives you home, you can’t help but think they know. When your car stops at a red light, you think the people in the car beside you know. If you go and see Megumi tonight…

He’ll know.

YOU: sorry Megs, can we reschedule? My uncle just got to town x MEGUMI: of course. don’t worry about it, have fun with your uncle x

He reads your messages out of the corner of his eye, and does all he can to supress the satisfied smirk desperate to break out across his face. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife, he understands. You did something wrong. But that isn’t why it’s so quiet.

You’re quiet, and uncomfortable, because you liked it.

You can’t make eye contact with him, because you liked it.

And you can’t talk to him normally, because you want to do it again.

Your body language tells him all he needs to know. He’ll be in town for as long as you need to wrap your head around this. As long as you need to confess how desperately you desire him once more. It’ll only be one more time. Every time you tell him, beg him, crave him to make you feel good again, you’ll say it’s the last time.

But that one last time will never come.

Poor Megumi, he has no idea just how much fun your uncle intends to have with you.

© 2024 rinhaler

[baby-yongbok]

Fixation

Hwang Hyunjin x Afab!Reader

✮ Genre - Explicit (non-idol) - Punk!Hyunjin x Punk!Reader ✮ WC: 3.8k ✧ Masterlist ✧

✮ Summary: Hyunjin is obsessed with your mouth.

✮ CW: Alcohol usage [By both reader and Hyunjin.], Mention of marijuana [For like 10 seconds in the very beginning], Spit play? [Kinda? You'll see] , Public affection (I think that's all)

✮ A/N: This look on Hyunjin is my absolute favorite from the comeback and it kinda gives me punk rock vibes? So I tried that out and idk if I aced it but I did it so boom. I hope that you enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

“Who the fuck is throwing this party anyway?” Hyunjin ashes the weak blunt that you got from god knows where as you’re rummaging through his closet. “Does it matter?”

You pull out the top you were searching for and throw it on his bed next to where he’s laid out. You strip your shirt, leaving you in your flimsy bra as you pick the new shirt off of the hanger. Hyunjin isn’t phased by this one bit, you’ve been friends for long enough for him to have seen your tits a million times. 

“Nah, just curious.” He sits up at the head of his bed with one leg hanging off the edge and watches as you try to make his top work with the skin tight skirt you have on. “You’re going out with Seungmin, right?” 

“Yeah, gonna hit some party that Amelia told him about.” 

“Is she gonna be there?” You shrug, grabbing your bag and rummaging through it. “Cause you know that he’ll leave you if she’s there. He’s down bad for her.”

“Everybody fucking knows that.” You finally find your lip gloss and quickly unscrew the top and lean towards the mirror. Hyunjin watches as you apply it. It’s tinted red and shiny and it makes his cock twitch in his pants. 

He doesn’t know when it started but he’s been obsessed with your mouth for awhile. He can’t help but to stare at your lips when you’re talking, eating, sipping some of his drink or anything in between. 

It’s like his brain short circuits every time that he glances down at them but it’s even worse when you have on lipstick or lip gloss. That alone gets him as hard as damn rock. “They’ll probably fuck in the bathroom or something.” You pop your lips together to distribute the gloss and clean up the corners. 

“Shit.” You glance at the time on your phone when you go to put your lip gloss away. “I gotta go, he called me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You grab your stuff and start towards the door of Hyunjin’s tiny apartment. 

“Call me if you need me.” He yells from his spot on the bed. He would’ve walked you out but then you’d see that he's completely bricked up. He takes a deep breath once the door shuts and stares up at the ceiling. It’s become a routine for him to touch himself once you leave his place. He’s always so pent up from watching you that he has to get it all out. 

He could tell you about this. He could just kiss you and indulge in every dirty desire he has but he just hasn’t yet. Your friend group is a bit unique. Very few of you are in official relationships and those of you who aren’t will often kiss or sleep with each other with no strings attached. 

He knows that you’ve kissed and even fucked Seungmin. You’ve kissed his friend Felix plenty of times and he’s positive that you and Minho have a recurring situationship going on. Those are all the things that come to mind right away but he knows that there’s more to your history and he won't even get started on his.

He gets up to lock his door and heads back over to his bed as he palms himself. He wishes that he’d just tell you, he’s sure that you wouldn’t mind helping him out. Hell, you’d probably enjoy it. 

He’s crawling back onto his bed when something catches his eye at the end of it. He stares at it for a second before reaching forward and picking it up. It’s your lip gloss. You must’ve missed the pocket when you went to put it back in your bag. 

Hyunjin takes the tube between his fingers and stares at it. This is the exact gloss that you have on right now. Your pretty lips are red and shiny and he wants them so badly. 

He doesn’t know when he started twisting the cap off but the fuzzy applicator wand is in his hand and on his lips when he snaps back to reality. He moans as he brushes the gloss onto his bottom lip, he sits on his knees in the middle of his bed with his eyes closed. He imagines you putting it on him. He imagines that you let him use it after you and he’s moaning again. 

He fully applies it and rubs his lips together before closing the tube and letting it fall to the sheets below him as he falls back against his pillows, eyes still closed as he quickly unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down his thighs. He groans as he slides his hand down his body, feeling the slick gloss on his lips and imagining that you’re next to him, watching him.

He gasps when his hand wraps around his cock. He rubs his lips together to get a better feel of the gloss and brings his hand up to his face just as he thinks you would. “Baby, please.” He runs his thumb over his bottom lip, smearing the sticky pigment a bit and groaning into the air when his palm runs over his tip. 

“You’re mouth, I wan’ your mouth.” He runs his middle finger over the sticky mess he’s created and slips it into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around the digit sloppily before adding his pointer finger to the mix. He imagines that this is what your lips would feel like wrapped around his cock. He imagines your pretty lip gloss staining his shirt and his sheets and his skin. 

He moans around his fingers while his other hand works his leaking cock. He’s moving too fast to savor the feeling, each stroke of his fist gets him closer to the edge and has him whimpering. He doesn’t want this to end, he doesn’t want to open his eyes and let you go. He doesn’t want to cum yet but your mouth, you’re fucking mouth would feel so good that he can’t help it.

His mouth falls open in a loud moan and he slides his spit slick fingers out and down to join his other hand around his cock. “Like that, like that, baby.” He humps up into his fists with his jaw clenched tight and he’s spilling his cum over his knuckles before he can even say a word.

 His grip loosens as he attempts to catch his breath. The image of you vanishes from behind his eyes and he reluctantly allows them to flutter open. He looks down at the mess he’s made and groans at the sight of his cum running over the red ring of gloss staining his fingers. “Shit.” 

He throws his head back and stares. He can’t keep imagining this, he needs to tell you. He needs to do something.  

Hyunjin repeats yesterday's actions the next morning. He slathered on the shiny gloss and fucked his fleshlight while kissing his own hand and pretending it was you. The red stains are still faintly on the back of his hand when he arrives at the party later that night. He doesn’t know who the fuck is throwing it but he can say that it’s an absolute rager. The walls are graffitied and the loud rock music floating through the air is loud enough to ensure that he’ll need a hearing aid by age thirty. 

The couches are littered with people he’s never met before making out with people he’s never seen in his life. He heads to the kitchen to grab a drink of whatever looks good and then heads back into the crowd in search of you and the rest of his friends. 

He finds you all in the far corner, huddled together with some of you laughing and some of you making out. He pushes past Felix who’s currently in a threeway lip lock with Changbin and his girlfriend to get to you. You’re sitting on Seungmin’s lap with a drink in your hand. He smiles up at you as you laugh loudly at something he just whispered and Hyunjin’s eyes go right to your lips. He needs to make a move tonight.

He sits on the arm of the couch next to the two of you and takes a peek into your drink. “How many has she had?” He asks Seungmin as you smile back at him. “I've lost count.”

“Hyunjinnie!” You tilt your head back to see him better and pucker your lips towards him. Hyunjin freezes, staring down at your lips behind his red tinted glasses. “No kiss?”

You've never kissed him before. Ever. You've never offered him a kiss until today, it must be the alcohol.

“Since when do you kiss me?” He tries to sound playful. He tries to smile at your upside-down pout but he's struggling. He should've kissed you. 

“Since today.” Seungmin sits you up before You can pucker your lips towards Hyunjin again. “Sit fucking still, whore.”

You scoff, yelling something at Seungmin that makes him smile as he sips from your cup.

While you're fussing at your friend Hyunjin’s unfocused gaze is darting around the crowded space. He stares over at Felix who's now in a heated lip lock with some girl who's name he can never remember and then to Jisung and his girlfriend who look like they’re one step away from fucking in front of everyone. 

His eyes darted from person to person, kissing, laughing, sipping. He sees them all but he's thinking about you. He wants you. 

“Hyunjin.” His gaze snaps over to Seungmin as the sound of a glass bottle crashing against the wall echoes through the air. Typical shit. “Take her for a bit? I gotta do something.” 

Seungmin stands with you in his arms and Hyunjin slips into his spot on the couch. The younger sits you in Hyunjin’s lap before rushing off into the crowd of gyrating bodies. 

Hyunjin squints beyond his glasses and finds the reason for Seungmin’s sudden departure. Amelia is here, he's gonna be gone for more than a bit.

“Hyuneeee.” You whine at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I want another drink.”

“I don't think you should have another drink, darling.” He stares up at you from where he's slouched into the worn cushions. Your legs are draped over his, your ass is on his thigh and his arm is wrapped around you. 

You look good tonight. Your leather tube top and tattered jeans are a masterpiece that he'd proudly strip from you if he could work up the courage. 

Even with you looking this good. Even with you sitting on him like this he can't pull his gaze away from your lips. They're black tonight. Shiny with a mix of midnight lipstick and some sparkly gloss. Your tongue peeks between them, adding a bit of pink to the mix and he swears that he could take you right here. He could risk it all right now. 

“I just want one more drink.” You pout, pushing your bottom lip out at him. “Tequila or Hennessey, just one more.”

He shakes his head, earning a whine from you. “You're wasted.” He squeezes the exposed skin of your waist as he holds you tighter in case you decide to try to escape. 

“Here.” Minho's voice breaks through your conversation from beside you. He offers you his cup filled halfway with something that Hyunjin can smell from his spot beneath you. 

“What the hell is that?” Minho smiles down at Hyunjin then over at you. “It's called a Hell Bomb. Jeongin made it. I don't like Henny though.”

“Yes you do.” You smile up at him, staring at him upside-down like you did to Hyunjin earlier. “Not as much as you like it.” 

Minho leans in and kisses your chin. Hyunjin holds his breath as he watches you giggle at the exchange. He silently prays that he doesn't kiss you. Please don't. 

“I like tasting it off of you though, so bottoms up, kitty.” You hold eye contact with Minho as you lift the cup to your lips, some of the drink spills down the slope of your throat and Hyunjin watches it as it travels down to the valley of your breasts. Oh, what he'd do to clean you up. “That’s my girl. You better watch her, Hyunjin. She'll be gone after this.”

With a pat on the shoulder and a suggestive glance to the both of you Minho slips into the crowd and disappears. 

You're still drinking when he leaves and Hyunjin has to pry the cup from your hand to get you to slow down. He mixes your drink with his Vodka that he grabbed earlier and throws your cup on the floor by his feet. “Hey!”

“You're not drinking that by yourself. We'll share it.” He takes a couple of gulps from the cocktail with a furrowed brow as it burns on the way down. This shit really is hell. “You'll be ghost if you do this alone.”

“But you'll take care of me, won't you, Hyunjinnie?” You move into him, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“I got you.” He mumbles back as he takes another hit of the drink. He's gonna need a lot of this to get through the night. 

They just kept coming. Once Chan arrived thirty minutes ago with three cases of the most expensive soju he could blow his paycheck on Hyunjin knew he was fucked. 

He let you have one bottle before he cut you off for good. Your neck became jelly after the third swig and you've been mumbling in his ear ever since. 

He took that bottle from you and finished it. Then he had two more right after to distract himself from the way that your lips brushing against his neck makes his cock chub up. Now he's on his fourth bottle of soju and you're on your second bottle of water. 

“Your lips are pretty.” You mumble as you sit up and stare down at his mouth. “Your lip gloss looks like mine.”

“Does It?” He rubs his lips together, evening out the red tint. “Yeah but I lost it.”

“Mm that sucks. It looked pretty on you.” You try your best to sit up and shift yourself in his lap but your coordination is shot. Hyunjin helps you move in his lap, he supports you until you end up how you wanted. You're straddling his waist, your legs are on either side of him and your core is over his cock. He takes another sip of soju once you settle. 

“You like my lips too?” He should lie, right? “I think yours are so pretty.” Fuck. 

You smile, it's lazy and tainted with alcohol but it's fucking dizzying. Your fingers sneak up to Hyunjin's face to steal his glasses and he lets you. You slip them on and stare down at him. 

“They look better on you.” He coos, his hands creep up your thighs and plant themselves on your hips and you move involuntarily into the touch. You grind over his chubbed up cock and he sighs into the cloudy air to try and control himself. “Drink more water, baby.”

“Gimme.” He grabs the bottle next to him, unscrewing the top and handing it to you but you refuse it. “Pour it.” 

You tip your head back with parted lips and your tongue sticking out. Your eyes are closed and Hyunjin moans. He fucking moans at the sight your your mouth open for him and he wishes that he was filling it up with something different. 

He places a finger under your chin to keep you steady and waterfalls into your mouth. You swallow as he pours and he watches the way that your throat moves. You'd swallow his load so well, you'd take his cock like a fucking pro. 

A bit of water runs over your bottom lip and down your neck as he pulls away. He’s fighting his demons again as he watches the water trail down your skin, it takes everything in him not to clean it up for you. He stopped himself but he won't be so lucky next time. 

“Thank you.” You bat your lashes at him, staring down over his shades. “Your turn?”

“My turn?” You hum, picking up his bottle of Soju from the table next to you. “Lemme feed it to you.”

“Are you tryna get me fucked up?” He smirks up at you and you down at him. 

 “Head back.” He parts his lips slightly and you place a finger under his chin like he did to you. His eyes stay on yours the entire. Studying every move you make.

“Open.” Your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, smearing his - your - red gloss onto his chin. He opens his mouth slowly, sticking the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip just a bit. 

“Mhm” You bring his bottle up to your lips and sip at the clear liquid until you're content with what’s in your mouth. Hyunjin is about to protest when you bring the bottle up to your lips but he gets lost in the way that your black gloss stains the cloudy glass. 

You set the glass back onto the table and lean up on your knees to line your mouth up with his. His dark eyes bore into yours as he realizes what's about to happen. His hands slip up and down the curve of your waist then press into the flesh when you allow the sweet liquid to waterfall into his open mouth. 

His eyes flutter shut with a whimper as his mouth fills with what you're giving him. He hooks his thumbs into your belt loops and pulls you forward so that you're hovering right over his half hard cock. His self control is fading as the stream from your mouth to his ends. 

As it tapers off a bit of soju misses his mouth and runs down his cheek. It doesn’t get far before you're licking it up, trailing it back up to his mouth and slipping your tongue against his in one swift motion.   

Hyunjin gasps against you before a more primal sound follows. You reciprocate it, sinking back down onto his lap and rocking yourself over him. 

He’s swallowing hard and drinking in every ounce of you that you're offering. He feels dizzy with how hard his lips are pressing to yours. It’s a messy exchange of teeth and tongue that has you both exhaling hard through your noses. It's more intoxicating than anything he's had tonight. It tastes better than the most expensive soju he could think of.

“You -'' Hyunjin breathes out strangled syllables between sloppy drags of your tongue. He welcomes every searing lick into his mouth, prioritizing tasting you over speaking. “Wait.”

He pushes you back, forcing your lips off of his with a sloppy smack that draws Felix's attention from the other couch. “You're fucking wasted.” 

“I know what I'm doing.” You push his red sweater back off of his shoulders, exposing the bare skin underneath and he lets you. “I know what I want and it's you.”

“You're wasted, I'm fuckin wasted we can't - ‘m not gonna fuck you like this.”

You push his sweater down to his elbows and run your hands back up the newly exposed skin. Your hands travel down his stomach, running over the ribbed texture of his tank top before slipping underneath the fabric. 

“Aye, I'm not gonna -” 

“You don't have to.” You cut him off, rocking over him again to get him to calm down. “You don't have to fuck me tonight. Don't even have to kiss me again.”

Your nails scratch over his stomach, it's toned and soft to the touch. You run your hands over his chest, slowing your touch when you brush over his nipples. He squirms beneath you, his hands holding onto your forearms in a half minded attempt to stop you. 

“Just let me mark you up, yeah?” You lean into his neck, keeping your hands on his stomach under his top. “Let me claim you for later, is that okay, Hyunjinnie?”

He's nodding before he can even comprehend it. He's mumbling confirmations while the soju in his system seemingly evaporates under your touch. How could he say no? Your practically promising to fuck him later. 

“Hold still.” Your lips press to his neck right over his pulse. You can feel it pick up as you leave The sticky black mark behind. You place another kiss right under that one and then another and another. You trail marks over the side of his neck and down his shoulder. You make out with his bicep as you squeeze his sides under his shirt. 

“I can't - fuck, baby. I really like you kissin’ on me like that” You sit up, smiling at him with smeared black lipstick down your chin and smudging onto your cheeks. Hyunjin doesn't look Any better. His mouth is smudged in a mess of glossy red and black and his skin is stained with the color of you. 

“Your mouth is so pretty like that.” Hyunjin's hand cups the side of your face and smears more of the dark pigment over your cheeks. “I wanna take you right here. I wanna get you on your knees so badly.”

“You wanna fuck me right here?” You trail kisses down his wrist, pushing his sleeve up his arm to give you more canvas space. 

“Fuck, yes.” He kicks his head back in a moan. “Wanna see those pretty lips stretch over my cock.” 

“You think I can fit it all in my mouth?” You press down into him. “You feel so big.”

“You can take it, baby.” Your lips start marking up the other side of his neck now, pressing smudged kisses into his clean flesh. “I know you'll take it like such a good fucking girl, won't you? Gonna let me fuck this throat later? Gonna come over tomorrow and let me do everything I want to you.”

“I'll be a good girl for you. The best fuck you ever had.” His hand runs up the back of your neck, lacing in your hair and scratching at your scalp as you mark him. Kissing him dangerously close to his mouth and testing the ounce of self control he has left. 

“Oh, you will be. I know you will be, I've thought about you so much. I've thought about those lips and that cunt and just fucking ruining you.” Hyunjin is rambling. His deepest secret is spilling over the corners of his lips and soaking into you, you milk it all from him with a smile. 

It looks like leaving your lip gloss at his place worked after all. 

Please Like, Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕

ALSO, please follow my back-up acct. @minniee-verse 💕

Perm. Tag List:

@kayleefriedchicken

@compersian @kibs-and-bits @lixiluvs @armystay89 @lghtdarling

@teddy-stay , @baconcupcakes123, @moonchild9350 ,

@krayzieestay, @soulsbbg , @stay-bi , @yzsqu , @gho-ster , @lghtdarling

[cadaverousdecay]

I found one of those things you call a mermaid on the pier the other night. All tied up and thrashing its poor body around like a fish caught in a net.

That image repulsed me. You know I've never been one for fishing. Even catch and release puts me off. I don't like to watch the poor thing slowly suffocating as it waits to be thrown back in, its gills heaving and sputtering for water.

That creature tied up on the pier, the gash of gills on its neck was heaving and sputtering just in that way, dark ocean water flowing out with every failed breath, it really made me sick.

I pulled out my pocket dagger and its attention was on me. Its eyes bulged wide and I wondered if, like a fish, it couldn't blink. The sight of my dagger set it off into another thrashing fit and I tried to calm it down. Poor thing didn't seem to understand a word. It kept opening and closing its faded lips, but nothing came out. Must've spoke some kinda fish language.

I held it firmly in place and slowly brought the dagger to the knots binding its wrists. It calmed down after seeing that I wasn't here to cut its flesh. Or maybe it had just lost all energy from being out of the water too long. Either way, it stayed still as I cut the ropes around its legs.

When it was freed, it just lay there on the pier. So still it might've been dead, other than the weak flapping of the gill at its throat. I needed to get it into the water, and fast.

I lifted it up, one arm under its neck, the other under its knees. Its skin was slightly warm, unlike any fish I'd ever briefly held. But the same clamminess. Warmer than its skin was the water spurting from its gills.

I stepped closer to the edge of the pier and the thrashing returned. It must've known it was going back home, and was getting excited. I took a step back to gather momentum, and pushed forward with all my might, throwing the creature in kicking and flailing.

It hit the water with a splash, and stayed at the surface for a moment. Almost like it was treading water. Must've wanted to say thanks. After a few seconds it slowly sunk down. Back to its home.

I imagined the slit in its neck filling up with ocean water and I could finally breathe easy again. I couldn't get that sick taste out of my mouth for awhile, though. Same sick taste of my first fishing trip.

"Who cut its neck?" I remember asking my mama as the fish struggled in my hand, tail thrashing, scales cold. She told me those were its gills, that's how it breathed. Through the slits in its throat.

"So it's breathing through its neck?"

"No, sweetie. Not now."

I took one last look over the pier into the dark water below, getting darker. That fish is breathing now. It's gotta be.

[twirlyleafs]

“Quid pro quo.”

Lando Norris x reader

TW: none, just fluff

~~~~

“Can I pick at the blackheads on your back?

Lando looked up at you, face turning into a somewhat disgusted snarl as he processed what you’d said. He was half laying down in the couch, reruns of some old show playing on the tv as he lazily scrolled through his phone. You leaned against the doorframe, a hopeful smile on your face as you waited for your boyfriend’s agreement.

“What?”

“Can I?”

Lando was used to your AdHd-induced ideas, the way you could suddenly appear in the room and start talking about something completely out of pocket. Usually he found it charming, cute, but this just had him squirming.

“No, you cannot.” He denied you, shaking his head as his eyes trailed down to his phone again. “That’s disgusting you muppet.”

“God Lan,” you groaned, dramatically throwing your head back. “Do you even love me?” The whiny exclamation had Landos gaze quickly snap up to you again, his eyes wide in disbelief. He watched you slump against the doorframe, pushing your bottom lip out in a giant pout.

“Excuse me?” He couldn’t help but let out something between a scoff and a laugh. You were adorable, dressed in just one of his shirts and your slippers, face contorted in what he assumed was supposed to be an angry frown. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you? I’m asking for one small thing-“

“It’s unhygienic!” He argued, amused at the way you stomped your foot. Like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Oh, so you can put your dick in my mouth but you won’t let me pick at your skin?” You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to suppress your satisfied smirk at the look on Landos face. His lips pursed together at your statement, eyes narrowing at you as you glared back. The two of you stayed silent for a moment, both waiting for the other to back down, until Lando finally let out a defeated groan. He knew he couldn’t argue with that. While muttering stuff you didn’t bother listening to he tossed his phone away into the couch before reaching to pull his shirt off. A giant smile broke out on your face and you squealed, wiggling in excitement for a moment before skipping over to your boyfriend. Lando rolled his eyes as you grabbed his face, pressing a quick kiss against his lips, before guiding him to lay down on his stomach.

“You are the best boyfriend ever.” You mumbled, letting him get comfortable before getting on top of him, straddling his lower back. Landos huffed, turning his head to focus on the tv. You pressed a few kisses to the back of his neck before you began, eyes trailing over his back. Landos back was a masterpiece, you’d always thought so, speckled with birthmarks and freckles and tiny scars and sometimes scratches that you’d put there. Those were your favorite.

“That hurts.” Lando hissed, shrugging his shoulders as you pressed your nail against his skin. You used your other hand to push him back down, holding him still while you worked, and he groaned into the pillow. You picked at his skin for a while, pushing some blackheads and popping a small pimple or two, and despite twitching from time to time Lando didn’t say anything else. He didn’t answer you when you told him to stay as he was but when you got back from the bathroom, retrieving some antibacterial wipes, he was still in the same position and you couldn’t help but smile. Straddling him again you gently wiped his back down, making sure to keep the popped pimples clean and dry, before tossing the wipes on the table. Slowly you began scratching your nails up and down his back, moving out to caress his shoulders and upper arms too. You felt his skin almost rise under your touch and when you began pressing your thumbs into his muscles he let out a muffled groan.

“Good or bad?” You asked softly, stopping for a second. The moment he confirmed it did indeed feel good you continued, moving from massaging his shoulders and all the way down to his lower back. Occasionally you received a low hum from him and every time it made you smile.

“I like this much more.” Landos spoke into the couch after a while, moving his arm back and letting his hand fumble around until it found your bare leg. You hummed, leaning down to press soft kisses against his back, moving up until you reached his cheek. Lando turned his head and with a bit of effort you reached his lips, the both of you giggling through the kiss.

“Quid pro quo, right?” You pecked his lips quickly before straightening, carefully climbing off your boyfriend. With a grunt Lando turned around to lay on his back, squinting up at you as you stood beside the couch.

“You definitely know I don’t know what that means. But I’m assuming yes?” He reached an arm out, making grabby hands at you with a small grin. Letting out a breathy giggle you nodded, allowing Lando you pull you down on top of him. You made yourself comfortable, propped up on his chest, before answering.

“It means that I get something and you get something in return. A change of favors.” You explained softly and he let out an understanding hum.

“Right. I suffer through torture and then I get a massage?” Lando confirmed and you rolled your eyes but nodded. Your eyes flickered across his face and Lando watched you watch him, a breezy smile on his face. When he saw you push your brows together he raised his. “What?” Your eyes quickly met his and that same, innocent smile you wore a while ago crept up on your face again. Lando groaned even before you spoke up, knowing he wasn’t going to like it.

“Can I pluck your eyebrows?”

[januaryembrs]

Hi!! Could I please order a spicy hot chocolate for Spencer Reid? (Like you know, the ones that people put cayenne pepper in?!)

You’re an incredible writer and human!

BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND | Spencer Reid x Reader

description: your brother brings home his dorky college classmate, Spencer

length: 2.5k

warnings: spicy, SMUT (omg Em attempts smut and even then its pretty tame but why are my hands shaking), minors dni! heed my warnings this is not for you minors!! nipple stuff, mens genitalia mentioned, Spencer and reader get horny for one another oop. I really hope this is okay I've literally written smut once and even then I second guessed myself so much. SEASON ONE GLASSES SPENCE. BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND SPENCE. smut under the cut.

You felt eyes on you without even having to turn where you were stuffing laundry into the washing machine, your face sweaty with the midsummer heat. 

“Jesus Christ, you look like Hot Topic threw up on you,” Your brother’s voice resounded as two sets of footsteps entered the kitchen, and someone cleared their throat where you were bent over, denim shorts riding high up your ass cheeks. 

Flicking a look over your shoulder, you pulled the spoon full of peanut butter out of your mouth, yanking a headphone out of your ear to address him. 

“Don’t shit your pants, dickbrains, it’s all I have until my clothes are clean,” You snapped at Ryan, tongue dancing with the creamy, sweet spread, and your eyes dropped to his left where his best friend fussed over his sweater cuffs, a duffel bag on his back, and your eyes softened as you saw Spencer looking flushed in your kitchen, “Hi, Spence,” 

“Hi,” He peeped shyly, and you smiled widely at the obscenely tall boy who had been to your house a number of times. Ryan had met Spencer on the first day of college, or at least his first day. For Spencer, it had been six years already, his third doctorate well underway, and the two had quickly bonded over something dumb and nerdy you’d never bothered to take note of. You clicked the dials on the machine to a low setting, pouring some detergent into the drum and pressing the ‘Start’ button.

“You guys doing homework?” You asked, fixing where your shirt slouched off the side of your shoulder, exposing your lack of bra and baring your collar bones, and you were quick to catch the way Spencer’s hazel hues fell there with something fleeting and guilty in his expression. 

“We’re not twelve years old calculating how many watermelons Sally and Jess have all together,” Your brother scoffed, screwing his lips in annoyance, just as much as any twenty year old pumped full of hormones and energy drinks. “We’re writing a paper on thermodynamics; Spencer’s staying over tonight,”

Rolling your eyes at his know it all snark, you pulled a face back at him, despite the fact you were one year older. You looked to his left where Spencer stuffed his hands in his pockets, his cheeks pink as he caught himself like a fly in honey in one of your usual arguments. 

���Do you want a drink, Spence?” You offer, ignoring Ryan’s shitty attitude, heading over to the fridge and swinging the door open, your fathers bottles of beer clinking together where they lay flat on the top shelf. 

“Soda would be great, please,” Spencer murmured, trying not to stare as you leaned over, those little, black hot pants skirting up so far his face felt feverish and he forced himself to look at the linoleum tiles in a scrambled attempt to control his thoughts. 

He felt like a kid again, with a stupid little crush on the older girl who batted her lashes and called him Spence and smiled at him like you knew exactly how you made that big brain of his turn to mush when you spoke to him. 

Handing him a Coke, he tried to ignore the way your cold fingers brushed and avoided your gaze at all cost.

“Thankyou,” He said, his voice cracking in the very middle of it in a way that made him feel like a total loser, and he heard you giggle, his neck growing a prickling hot. 

Before you could say much else, his friend grabbed his sleeve, tugging him in the direction of his room where you couldn’t bother them anymore. 

Spencer was thinking about your laugh the entire afternoon, until they gave up writing and turned to watching Star Trek, the evening air quickly turning humid and dark, and he begged the tightness in his boxers to leave him be for even just a second.

Only, he found no such luck, tortured by the thought of you being just a single flight of stairs away from him. 

–

You were doing dishes by the time you heard him again. Assuming it was Ryan, you made no effort to greet him since it usually was only responded with a grunt or cuss anyways. 

Except you could tell by the footsteps that were too careful, the presence that was too soft, even by the way he cleared his throat nervously, that it certainly wasn’t your obnoxious brother who had come into the kitchen for a midnight snack. 

Whirling around at the sound, Spencer stood on the other side of the dining table you'd been sitting at just a few hours ago eating pasta and listening to your mom recounting her stressful day in the office. Thin, framed glasses perched on his nose, ones you’d never seen before, glinting in the light from the oven as he blinked at you behind the lenses. 

“Spence,” You said with a tired smile, eyes dropping to his shirt and plaid trousers, “Cute jammies,” 

He paused for a second, looking down to the grey Doctor Who set, a diagram of the TARDIS splayed across his chest, and he blanked when he tried to figure out if you were kidding or being genuine, “Thank you. You too,”

He didn’t know why he’d said it, maybe because that’s just what you do when someone is being kind, except only then did he look at what you were wearing, and impossibly so it was even more scandalous than what you were wearing earlier. 

A tank top, if he could even call it that with how far it rode up, and a lacy pair of blush underwear, a pretty white bow resting just below your belly button. 

Following his gaze as it devoured your exposed appendage, you grinned at him devilishly, “Sorry, it gets pretty hot in my room at night,” 

“Y-yeah I can imagine you-you’re hot,” He stammered, realising what he said when you raised a brow at him, “B-because you’re a floor up, I mean, and heat rises because hot air has a lower particle density than cool air although some physicians believe-”

“I know what you meant, Spence,” You said with a smirk, moving around the table to stand in front of him, your feet padding softly against the cold floor. Looking up at him with a tilted head, you inspected the frames you realised were a mahogany brown now you were close enough to see them properly, you peered past the lenses and right into where his doe eyes stared back at you, skittish and flustered, “Are these new?” 

Spencer licked his lips nervously, “I used to wear glasses when I was a kid but now I wear contacts,” He said, rubbing clammy palms over his trousers. He could smell your detergent from here, the same one he’d seen you pour over your laundry just a few hours earlier, ‘Blossom breeze’ or something girly and sweet and floral like that. He didn’t know the brand, but it was entirely intoxicating, except he suspected it had nothing to do with the liquid and more to do with the fact he could see your nipples pressing against your shirt when you stood so close to him, “Girls don’t really think scrawny guys in glasses are.. hot,” 

You sniggered, though your brows furrowed the slightest bit, “Who told you that?” 

“Lot’s of girls, more than once actually, it’s just kind of common knowledge,” He fumbled, his chest pricking with nerves when your fingers moved up to grip his waist gently, thumbs danced down his hip bones, the gentle touch alone stirring his cock into a painfully hard stance. He gulped, the sound loud in the sombre twilight of the kitchen, and for a guy who had aced every single test he’d ever taken, who played chess against himself for fun to guess his next five moves, Spencer had no clue where he existed outside of your body so close to his, looking at him like he was a puppy begging for treats if he gave paw. 

“I think those girls are absolute boneheads if they can’t see how pretty you are, Spence,” You said his name as if it was the only one that had ever mattered, and he couldn’t help how his chest swelled at the sentiment, even if he wasn’t so off guard as to actually believe that. You’d always had this way of making people feel special, he saw it at your family barbecue last Summer, when your cousins flocked around you like you were their Queen Bee, how you seemed to make waiters and waitresses alike flush under your preening smiles and 'please's and 'thankyou's whenever you took Spencer and your brother out for dinner. 

“T-thankyou,” He replied after a thick breath, his chest rattling as you pulled him towards your calm figure, and he let himself be guided like he were leashed, “Y-you’re pretty too,”

He wanted to tell you so much more than that, that you were beautiful like all the popular girls at school were, only humble and kind like the golden part of you glittered inside too, except before he could even attempt at expanding on his three pathetic little words he’d stammered through laboured breaths, he effectively got fully disconnected from his brain when you leaned in towards his face and brushed your nose against his, testing the waters. 

Your gaze trailed up to his innocently, so close he could feel your minty breaths fanning over his bottom lip, and he guessed you’d already brushed your teeth ready for bed. 

“You really think I’m pretty, Spence?” You asked naively, even if he knew it was just because he forgot how to speak when you were too forward, as if you were trying not to spook a deer. He nodded quickly, his eyes zeroing on where your mouth was mere centimetres away from him, one single shiver in his spine and he would be kissing you, and like you’d heard his train of thought, you pushed your lips against his softly, his body jolting with an electric shock. 

There could be sirens surrounding the entire house and he would be none the wiser, because in mere seconds his blood was rushing through his eardrums, sounding like radio static, and it was only when he felt the vibration of it against his mouth did he realise you’d whined, and his hands sprung to life, cupping both your cheeks and tugging you closer to his face as if he was clinging onto every second of the feeling. 

Spencer groaned, a sound he didn’t even realise he was going to make until he felt your fingers squeeze him lightly, and he snapped back into his body like a hair tie slinging him back into a world where the girl he’d had a teeny, tiny, maddening crush on for months was making out with him in her kitchen. 

“‘Gotta be quiet, baby, my parents are asleep,” You said, breathless as you ripped yourself away from him, despite the fact he was insistently pulling you back towards his mouth, and you smiled up at his urgency, “You ever kissed a girl before, Spence?”  

He sighed, and you’d never counted him as sassy until you heard it, almost spoiled and bratty now you’d given him a taste of heaven and held it back from him for the sake of small talk.

“Once, at recess in fifth grade, but it wasn’t like this,” He said, yanking you back towards him ravenously, and you let him devour your lips again, grinning into his desperate mouth, “Never been like this,” 

You weren’t sure whether he meant himself or what was likely a peck on the lips between kids as a dare, but you didn’t think too hard about it, as you slotted yourself back into his rough hands, calluses on the insides of his right fingertips from the years holding a pen so hard he might just break it. He felt your mouth open, and he followed your lead, your tongue feathering out with a shyness you showed nowhere else. And it was like every single statistic and number and fact about sharing saliva flew out of his head with wanton need as he dove right for the source, the tip of his tongue meeting yours with a warm nudge and he heard you mewl in pleasure. 

Spencer didn’t know what had come over him. Only moments ago he’d been too nervous to even look at you in fear of stumbled around a few syllables and calling them words. Yet here he was, his glasses slipping down his nose and pressing against the bridge of your own, your chest pressed so close to him he could feel your nipples pebbling against his TARDIS shirt, and it was like it was then he remembered you had no bottoms on except your panties. 

He hooked a hand underneath one of your legs, hiking it up to his waist and pushing even further up against you, the sudden movement making you gasp, your lower back hitting the dining table as his pubic bone ground against the ball of nerves that had been aching since you caught him shuffling around your kitchen in his damn Doctor Who pyjamas. 

Sliding his broad fingers up, your skin spread into gooseflesh and it was your turn to become putty under his touch as he bravely grabbed a handful of your arse, though his touch was still light and uncertain if he was crossing any boundaries. The change in position meant you felt yourself leaning back, your spine spreading out like a cat in warm sunlight, and he was quick to accommodate you, ever eager to please as Spencer was, moving away from the warmth of your mouth and kissing his way down to your pulse, the feeling of it making both of you hum on quietened tones in pleasure. 

“Why have we never done this before?” You asked breathlessly, your chest rising frantically as you gasped for air, a hushed moan bleeding into your airways. 

Spencer held you upright with one of his long arms, thought his mouth devoured a path over your collar bones, heading right for where your breasts lay in wait, and he didn’t even bother trying to remove your top as he kissed over your nipple with hungry, warm lips. 

“I dunno, probably because Ryan wouldn’t be too happy with me trying to fuck his sister while he’s eating dinner,” Spencer said without thinking, his tone sharp and witty as ever, like the noises you were making and the desperation in your touch seemed to rewire his thoughts into something overindulged. 

But you laughed, loud enough you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from waking up the whole house, because you had no idea how you’d explain to them why you and Spencer had ended up half sprawled on the dining table as he practically fixed himself onto every inch of you. And without warning he chuckled too, the vibration blowing over your skin that was already humming with excitement. 

“Do you think we could do this more often?” You asked, raising yourself up onto your elbows as his hands spread over your stomach, riding your top up just the smallest bit so he could kiss over your stomach, his pupils blown out into planets behind his glasses, his cheeks tinged raspberry red, his gaze drunken like he was in some sort of sugar rush only ready to stop when he’d gotten his fill, though at the rate he was going Spencer thought that day might not actually come. 

You were a drug, a nectar he’d never come close to, and he felt like every kiss to your skin only made that well in his stomach dig deeper and deeper, possibly never running dry as his every thought overflowed with drops of you, and your smell, and your taste, and your tongue. 

Missing your lips, he moved back up to your face, crashing his mouth back onto yours as your fingers raked through his hair, the sensation jolting his rod like appendage into you own pelvis, the two of you shivering with the feeling of it. 

“I think we can arrange that,” He murmured, and you grinned up at him devilishly as he fiddled with the cotton hem of your underwear nervously, his boldness wearing off as he saw that glint in your eyes that spelled trouble. But he understood that nervous and excitement felt so similar it was easy to mistake one for the other, perhaps even mesh both together at the same time, and the logical explanation for his clammy hands and racing heart seemed to soothe him the slightest bit. 

He loved sleepovers at your house.

[elikajinnie]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･ 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙅𝙖𝙠𝙚

pairing: sim jake x f!reader ✿ warnings: fluff, kisses, suggestive content, just jake being jake ✿ synopsis: jake watching you do your makeup ✿ a/n: i was doing my makeup today while listening to daydream... and this just spawned, took me about 5 min. Like you can NOT tell me this man is not a great kisser.

Jake sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes following you as you move around the room, gathering your makeup. He’s got that look on his face—the one where he’s all soft smiles and quiet admiration, like he’s forgotten everything else just watching you. You’re focused, picking out the right shades and brushes.

You sit in front of the mirror, carefully applying the finishing touches to your makeup, with Jake lounging on the edge of your bed behind you. His gaze is a constant warmth on your back, his attention never straying as he watches you get ready. You catch his reflection in the mirror, and the intensity in his gaze makes your heart skip a beat. He’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees, completely engrossed in watching every move you make.

He lets out a low chuckle when you finally glance over and catch him staring. “What?” he says, smiling, feigning innocence as if he hasn’t been studying you with those warm eyes for the past few minutes.

“You’re staring,” you say, rolling your eyes with a smile. “Am I that interesting?”

“More than interesting,” he replies, his voice soft and a little rough.

The words are simple, but it makes your cheeks heat up.

When you finally lift the tube of lipstick, you notice how his gaze sharpens, honing in on the way you tilt your head slightly, how your lips part just so as you begin to apply it. You can almost feel the way his eyes follow each slow swipe of color, his head tilting a fraction as if he’s studying each detail with the precision of an artist. You notice him licking his lips, that subtle pull of his bottom lip between his teeth, as he watches you swipe the color along your own lips.

You can’t resist a smile as you meet his gaze in the mirror. “Jake,” you tease, “I’m never gonna finish if you keep staring like that.”

He grins, not even trying to pretend he’s not completely captivated. “I can’t help it. You look… well, it’s hard to look away.”

His words make your cheeks warm, but you do your best to stay focused as you finish up. “I’ll be done in a sec, and then I’ll come over. Just let me finish this, okay?”

Jake chuckles, low and easy, but you notice he doesn’t back off at all. Instead, he stands up and takes a few slow steps toward you, his hands sliding casually into his pockets as he watches you finish up. He’s close enough now that you catch the glint in his eye, the way his gaze dips to your lips every few seconds as you press them together to blend the lipstick.

“Seriously,” you murmur with a playful smile, turning to face him, “you’re worse than a distraction.”

Before you can say more, his hands find your waist, and he pulls you gently to your feet and into his arms. He’s warm, solid, and smiling in that way that tells you he’s enjoying every second of this. You gasp in surprise as he settles down in the chair himself, effortlessly guiding you onto his lap as his hands hold you close. The laughter in his eyes softens as he looks up at you, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your waist.

“Jake!” you exclaim with a halfhearted pout, though you make no move to leave his lap. “You’re gonna ruin all my hard work.”

He just grins, undeterred. “So? You can always put more on.” His tone is soft and playful, but his eyes are dark, his voice dropping to a lower register that sends a thrill through you. “But I don’t think I can wait another second without kissing you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he’s already leaning in, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as his lips find yours. The kiss is soft, but it doesn’t stay that way for long—there’s a familiar urgency to it as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss, letting it linger until you forget about your makeup entirely. His thumb brushes along your cheek, and you lean into him, your fingers sliding up to curl in his hair, pulling him even closer.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you can’t help but laugh at the sight of him. There’s a distinct smear of your lipstick marking his mouth, bright against his skin.

“Now look what what happened,” you tease, tracing a finger along the faint lipstick mark left on his lips.

Jake chuckles, entirely unbothered as he shrugs. “I don’t mind if it means I get to kiss you.” He leans in again, pressing a light kiss to the corner of your mouth, his lips brushing over your cheek as he continues in a low murmur, “Besides, I think I wear this color well.”

You let out a laugh, playfully wiping at his lips even though he makes no move to stop you. “I’m holding you responsible if I have to redo all of this, you know.”

“I’ll buy you another tube,” he says easily, his arms wrapping around you a little tighter. He pulls you closer, his lips moving to your jaw, trailing kisses down to your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “Or… I could just keep you here with me. Not sure I’m ready to let you go anywhere yet.”

You sigh, but it’s playful, knowing full well you’re not going to resist him. “If you keep this up, I’m really going to have to start all over.”

“Fine by me,” he whispers against your skin, the soft brush of his lips sending a shiver down your spine. “Gives me more time to admire you.” He leans in, his lips meeting yours in another kiss, smearing even more of your lipstick as the kiss deepens.

You can't help but smile against his lips, the kiss is intense, a perfect blend of gentleness and urgency.

As you pull back, slightly breathless, Jake offers you the tube with a playful smile. "Here, put it on again," he says.

You take the lipstick, a little hazy from the passion of the moment, and begin to reapply it, your movements slow. Jake watches you, his eyes filled with admiration and desire.

Once you've finished, he reaches out and gently grabs the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His eyes meet yours, his lips finding yours once more.

When you pull back for a breath, Jake doesn't let you go. Instead, he trails kisses down your neck, his lips moving from your jawline to the sensitive skin of your collarbone.

Jake's hands roam over your body, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist and hips, as if memorizing every inch of you.

You can feel his breath against your neck, hot and heavy, as he takes the lipstick from your hand and holds it out to you once more. "One more time baby," he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I want to make sure it's perfect."

You giggle, a little hazy from the passion of the moment, and take the lipstick, reapplying it.

When you finish, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in another kiss. This time, he whines softly against your lips, his breath warm and intoxicating. The sound of his whining sends a shiver down your spine, adding an extra layer of intensity to the kiss. You moan softly, your body responding to his every touch.

"Mhm.. I could kiss you all day," he murmurs, his voice husky.

Suddenly, he pulls back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Wait, let's fix that lipstick again," he says, pointing at your lips with a playful grin.

You giggle, and take the lipstick again, reapplying it.

Jake watches you intently, his eyes never leaving your face. He leans in, his breath warm against your neck, and whispers, "You know, I could watch you do that all day. It's like a work of art."

As you finish reapplying the lipstick, he reaches out and gently cups your face in his hands. "Now, let's continue where we left off," he said.

After reapplying your lipstick for what feels like the fifth time, you finally manage to pull yourself away from Jake, though it’s no easy feat. His hands had been gentle but persistent, holding you close each time you tried to move. Your lips are still tingling, slightly sore, and you can feel the warmth lingering on your cheeks and neck from where his hands had cupped your face.

The clock catches your eye, and you wince—realizing you’re way past the time you were supposed to leave.

Jake, on the other hand, looks anything but concerned about the time - utterly content, with a dazed, love-drunk expression on his face. His hair is tousled, and he’s still catching his breath, gazing at you through half-lidded eyes that are filled with a lazy, affectionate warmth. Smears of lipstick cover his face, dotting his cheeks, chin, and jawline in soft red marks that match the color of your lips. You even see a faint outline of your lips on his neck, just above the collar of his now slightly wrinkled white shirt. The pristine fabric is no longer spotless; your lipstick has left faded, pinkish stains around the collar and down the top button.

Jake reaches up and touches one of the lipstick smudges on his cheek, as if to savor the traces of you left behind, before letting it fall back to his side. He lets out a contented, slightly drowsy hum, a soft smile spreading across his lips as he mumbles, almost to himself, “You’re… so beautiful…”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head, feeling your own lips twitch into a smile despite your best efforts to stay focused. “Jake, I’m actually going to be so late,” you murmur, gathering your things, but even as you say it, you can’t resist glancing back at him again, taking in the mess you’ve left him in.

He looks completely kiss-drunk, staring at you with that same sleepy, adoring expression, like he’s half lost in a daydream. “Late?” he murmurs, sounding only mildly aware of what you’re saying. His voice is low, lazy, and rough around the edges, the kind of tone that makes you almost forget your hurry all over again. He reaches out a hand toward you, his fingertips brushing the air as if he can’t bear for you to leave.

“Mm-hmm,” he continues, his eyes trailing over you, taking in every little detail as if he’s memorizing it. “The most beautiful girlfriend… yeah… so beautiful…”

His words are soft, murmured almost to himself as he gazes at you, clearly more than a little love-struck. His gaze drops to your lips, and he grins as he sees the lipstick you’ve reapplied, his eyes darkening slightly with that familiar gleam. It’s enough to make you hesitate at the door, knowing exactly where that look can lead.

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling as you grab your bag and finally tear yourself away, giving him a playful shake of the head as you do. His gaze never leaves you, that lazy, dreamy smile still playing on his lips, as if he’s too wrapped up in his thoughts of you to notice anything else. Just before you leave, you give him one last glance, taking in the mess of lipstick marks, the warmth in his eyes, and that soft, sleepy grin.

[xanaxspritz]

𝙙𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙨 ♡

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚𝙖𝙠𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙'𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙙˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

cw: bf!megumi, college AU, cheating, breeding, possible impregnation, cowgirl

an: I put cw here for a reason, so if this work makes you uncomfortable in any sort of way or if you're a minor, please do not interact. this is a work of fiction and what i write here does not reflect my own values or experiences.

ʚ♡ɞ˚

megumi was a sweet boyfriend. he sent good morning texts daily, was always ready to drop everything if you were in need across campus, and even warmed up to pda because you liked it so much. you couldn't ask for anything better.

but his father was a different story. undeniably a dilf, you couldnt help but to stare at the way his arms bulged out of his compression shirt he always wore, hugging his torso just right to show off his abs. you couldnt but to take a peak at his lap when lounged in grey sweats, watching TV with his legs spread wide open, as if he was daring you to take a seat on top.

it didn't help that he would stare at you, every time you visited megumi at home. the heat of his eyes lingering a bit too long on you heated up something dark within you.

the tension between you and toji kept rising and rising, until one day you went to the fushiguro residence to retrieve something you left. you find toji in the kitchen, eating his lunch, his lips curling up into a smirk when he sees you.

"megumi ain't here you know" he says food still in his mouth.

"i know. just forgot something," you say nervously.

"was it this?" he takes out neon pink panties from his pocket. you are mortified.

"oh my god. im so sorry mr. fushiguro. i promise i'll never-"

"always knew you're a little slut. i can always tell with little girls like you"

"what? what do you mean?" you feel your face grow hotter.

"don't pretend like you aren't, " he chuckled. "always teasing me with those super short skirts barely covering your ass. i can even see your pushup bra through your shirt." you cross your arms instinctively. "i didn't think megumi had it in him," he continued. "but it seems like you've got him wrapped around your finger."

you were speechless. was mr. fushiguro actually hitting on you?

"tell me doll, is he good enough for you? is he fucking you right?"

by this point toji rose up from his chair, inching closer to you until youre back up on the kitchen counter. you can something on the side of your thigh.

"y-yes mr. fushiguro, he's a great boyfriend. i-i couldn't ask for any better," the wetness you can feel in your panties betrays your words.

"hm, is that so?" his hands wandering behind you to squeeze your plump ass. he snaps your panty band before feeling up between your legs.

"already wet f'me you dirty slut," leaning down closely to your, lips centimeters apart. "how naughty."

you crash your lips into his desperately, weeks of sexual tension building up to a make out session. his lips are surprisingly soft, and his breath is a comforting smell of tobacco. "call me toji," he nuzzles into your neck.

one thing turns into another and you found yourself in the master bedroom, bouncing on top of toji's huge cock.

"that good baby, keep riding me just like that," he whispers slapping and grabbing your ass. "i bet he doesn't fuck you like i do, ain't that right?"

"n-no mr. fushiguro!"

"i thought I told you to call me toji," he narrowed his eyes, picking up the pace faster.

your moans get louder as his thick, fat cock pounded you. his heavy balls slapped against your ass, you close your eyes in pure bliss, your tits bouncing in his face.

"i wonder what would happened if i filled you up with this daddy dick. think megumi would notice you pregnant with my baby, hm?"

the thought of toji cumming in you was exhilarating, you quickly nod your head yes, holding him tighter as he digs his fingers into your hips.

he laughs at your eagerness. "figured a little whore like you would love it. fuck- are you ready?"

you feel his warm cum filling you up as toji grunts. his load is thick and creamy, the excess dripping down your thighs.

he quickly replaces his cock with his fingers, plugging the cum inside you, keeping you nice and full.

"you're a good fuck," he sighs. "no wonder megumi keeps you around."

right, megumi. how would you even begin explaining to this to him? should you even tell him? the overwhelming guilt consumes your thoughts.

toji notices the visible worry you're sporting on your face. "hey doll, don't worry. I'm not gonna tell him," he reassures. "as long as you don't either. just keep coming back when he's not home so I can cum inside that pretty pussy again."