#sliding in for a photo finish

[foreveranevilregal]

Encantober Day 7: Storm

Well. The day had been a complete disaster. Everything had started out wonderfully; all the wedding preparations had gone according to plan and, miraculously, even Pepa’s weather was holding up. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, the sun was shining almost as radiantly as Pepa herself, and it was going to be a beautiful wedding.

Until Bruno walked in.

Pepa was pacing back and forth, trying to burn off the nervous energy. Nothing had gone wrong. Yet. She knew better than to expect something in her life to go off without a hitch. Her stomach was doing somersaults. But it felt like, for once in her life, the bad feeling was going to be proven wrong. Nothing in the world could possibly ruin this day for her.

She should’ve known better than to underestimate her bad luck.

Bruno was standing off to the side, just observing, the way he always did. He rarely involved himself in things. But this was Pepa’s wedding day, and she’d be damned if she let her only brother just stand there and watch instead of participating.

“Bruno.” She marched right up to him. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged noncommittally. “Waiting for the wedding to begin?”

Pepa sighed, exasperated. “Bruno, there are still things that need to be finished. The decorations aren’t done, and the chairs- why aren’t you helping the rest of the men with the chairs? Go help!” She demanded, shooing him towards the chairs.

Bruno whistled lowly. He looked Pepa up and down, then glanced up at the crystal-clear sky. “Looking like rain, huh, sis?”

Pepa put a hand on her heaving chest to calm herself. “What?”

Bruno offered her a sympathetic (or was it pitying?) look. “Is it gonna rain?”

“Rain?” Pepa began to panic. It couldn’t rain today, of all days. Not now, at the start of her and Félix’s life together. Bruno should know better than anyone about bad omens, and he had summoned the worst of all. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, the sky darkened. “No. It can’t rain today. Not today.” She wrung her hands together, pacing and muttering prayers for the rain to just wait until tomorrow, please.

“It’s kind of looking like it’s gonna rain.” Bruno pointed out, his eyes drifting upwards uneasily. “Hey, wait- where are you going?”

Picking up her skirts, Pepa fled. Raindrops began hitting the cobblestones next to her. Somehow, she made it into the church and tried to calm her erratic breathing.

Thankfully, the ceremony was always going to be held inside the church. It went as smoothly as anyone could expect. Except her mantilla fell off in front of everyone and she had to pick it up and drape it back around her shoulders. Then her hand shook as she lit her candle. Luckily the candle that symbolized their unity stayed lit, unlike in the many nightmares she’d had leading up to today.

These slipups left her feeling a bit embarrassed, but Félix had kept beaming at her. No matter what anyone said to her afterwards, at least he would be there to comfort her.

Finally, the ceremony was over, and everyone exited the church…to a scene of total chaos and devastation. Debris was strewn everywhere. Bits were still tossed about by the wind. The cobblestones gleamed from the rainfall that had soaked them, judging by the little rivers flowing to lower ground. And the sky…the beautiful blue sky had darkened like night had fallen several hours early.

The bubble of hope Pepa had held in her chest popped. How…how could this be? When she’d been getting ready, everything was so beautiful. Not a single cloud in the sky, let alone…whatever this had been. Everything had been fine, until…until she talked to Bruno. Her eyes blazed furiously. It was all his fault. He’d mentioned rain, and then this happened. Up until then, there had been no sign of rain. It had to have been a vision. How else could there have been such a terrible storm on that sunny day?

Stupid Bruno. He had to pick today of all days to deliver bad news. Here, Pepa; why don’t I portend your marriage with a lovely storm? That’s a good wedding present, right? No bad omens here. Just here’s what I think about how your marriage will turn out. No big deal.

Feeling lightheaded, Pepa ran back into the church, seeking refuge from the storm inside her mind. She ran up the aisle, crushing flower petals as she went, tearing down the flowers decorating the pews. It didn’t seem right for the decorations to be so beautiful when the wedding had been so awful. When she got to the front, she ducked into a side room, closing the door behind herself.

Was the wetness on her cheeks from the rain or her tears? She really couldn’t tell. Nor could she tell how long she’d been inside there. Darkness surrounded her; she’d forgotten to bring a lamp. Cursing under her breath, she tried to smooth out her dress as best as she could without being able to see. Maybe it was better that way. She probably wouldn’t like what she saw.

Suddenly, the door opened. Julieta stood inside it, haloed by light from the church. “Pepa?”

“Julieta.” She tried to keep the quaver out of her voice, wiping the tears off her face. “What are you doing here?”

Julieta laughed incredulously. “It’s your wedding day, Pepa. Surely you didn’t think no one would notice you missing?”

Pepa scoffed. “They’re probably having a better time without me. Without the weather witch who ruins everything.”

“No one has called you that in years.”

“Whatever. It’s not like anyone cares I’m gone.”

Julieta raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Are you sure no one cares? Because I can think of someone who cares very much and is confused about how he ended up alone on his wedding day.”

Pepa choked back a sob. “He’s better off without me. I ruined everything. In case you haven’t noticed, a hurricane passed through town. That wouldn’t have happened if he’d married someone else.”

Julieta sat down next to her. “Yes, there was a hurricane. But the man is crazy about you, Pepa. He’d move the earth for you.” She took Pepa’s hands in her own. “Where is all this coming from?”

Pepa shook her head, unable to speak through the tears. “Stupid Bruno,” she blubbered.

“Bruno?” Julieta asked, confused. “What does Bruno have to do with any of this?”

Pepa huffed impatiently. “Everything was perfect until he showed up and told me it was going to rain. What kind of a vision is that to tell someone on their wedding day?”

Julieta nodded slowly, absorbing this information. “Ah, I see. Pepa…you know Bruno isn’t the best at talking to people. I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“What he meant doesn’t matter.” Pepa crossed her arms over her chest, wringing out a bit of water from the dress. “He made it rain on my wedding day. He ruined everything.”

Julieta frowned. “He’s not the one with control over the weather.”

“Well everything was fine before he showed up,” Pepa retorted. “How else do you explain it?”

Julieta opened her mouth to speak, then shook her head. “Okay, so…it wasn’t the best thing to happen,” she said diplomatically.

Pepa barked out a cynical laugh. “You can say that again.”

“But it wasn’t the worst either,” Julieta persisted. “Pepa, do you know what’s going on outside?”

“I was trying not to think about it.”

“Let me tell you. Outside, there are musicians playing and a crowd of people dancing in the rain. There’s also a family waiting to celebrate a wedding they’ve been planning for ages, and a groom missing his bride.” She held up a finger, preempting Pepa’s protests. “Stop. Have you seen the way he looks at you? There is nothing on earth that would make him choose anyone but you. When he looks at you, that’s what love looks like.”

Pepa groaned, burying her face in her hands. This whole ordeal had exhausted her. She didn’t have the energy to argue with Julieta right now. All she could say is, “People will talk.”

“They might.” Julieta wrapped her arm around Pepa’s shoulders. “But today doesn’t have to be a complete loss.” She tilted her head towards the wall. “Listen. The rain is over.”

Pepa sniffled miserably. “Finally.”

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what comes after the rain.” Julieta smiled warmly.

“Mud?” Pepa guessed, confused as to where Julieta was going with this.

“A rainbow, Pepa.” Julieta squeezed her in a hug. “And I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

A small smile appeared on Pepa’s lips. That sounded nice. “A rainbow,” she repeated faintly.

Julieta stood up, holding out her hand towards Pepa. “Let’s go see it.”

Sure enough, the colors arcing through the sky were brilliantly vivid. But they paled in comparison to the real rainbow in Pepa’s day, who was waiting for her by the door. He offered her his hand and said the two most wonderful words she could imagine.

“Let’s dance.”

[swedenis-h]

When we wanted the same thing.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY/CHERIK DAY TO MY BESTIE @keylimeart !! Your honeymoon phase post made me crazy and then all of a sudden this 8 page comic was in front of me…… ALL OF IT FOR YOU!!

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

I’m doing a project on Gulper Eels (aka Pelican Eels, Pelican Gulpers, or Umbrella-mouth Gulpers)

And- these fuckers don’t even look REAL-

A lot of deep sea critters, you see them and you understand Lovecraft’s fear of the ocean

But some of these guys-

LOOK AT HIM! HES SO STUPID LOOKING!

THIS IS MY IDIOT SON WHO I HATE HIS NAME IS BONGWATER AND HE HAS EVERY DISEASE!!!!!!!

[fandom-blackhole]

My friends, idk how, but im gonna figure out a way to share my final presentation with you guys for a class after I finish it. Because I'll be damned if I'm gonna be this passionate about this thing, do all the research, make a ppt AND cardboard tri-fold, and present this at a "Research Symposium" for 2 hours to whoever stops at my booth during finals week to not share with the people I like most 😤

Basically for the project we have to take a person or event and give background on them before analyzing them through a Social Psychology lense (bc the class is social psychology lol). AND GODS DO I LOVE SHIT LIKE THISSSSS. I will not be sharing what event I chose for two reason: 1) I want ya'll to read and learn about it through my post when I post it 😌 and 2) It's a REALLY obscure event from what I've gathered (like I barely have 5 sources for references and one's ONLY in german) and I doubt many would know what I was talking about.

[slvttyplum]

satoru wasn’t one to sexualize you, but this in particular would have people questioning otherwise. that’s why in his head he called it admiration, which in his little peanut-sized brain he genuinely thought.

jerking off to your pictures every time he wasn’t with you or was so far away from you he was getting withdrawals and his dick was leaking with just the thought of you.

scrolling to his photos to the first picture if you and pulling out his dick to jerk off to it, it never crossed his mind as wrong.

don’t get him wrong, he loved having sex with you, his favorite thing to do, so much in fact he was the one always initiating it, but there was something so erotic about sliding his hands in his briefs and yanking one out to you of all people.

satoru never told you that he saved your pictures to get off on; all you thought was your boyfriend like your face so much he wanted to keep it in his camera roll, but little did you know...

he was a pervert.

cum dripping in between his fingers as he keeps pumping himself scanning your face on his phone screen, admiring every feature he found sexy on you, which was everything.

swallowing thickly as he pumps faster, looking at your eyes, then those lips that he imagined were parted on his dick.

squeezing his wet leaking tip every time he slid up his shaft, his thigh twitching, his eyes fluttering, trying their hardest to keep open looking at your fine ass.

this was a reoccurring thing, not just something he did every blue moon; he craved and ached for when he was alone to look at your bare face photo that you sent him on a whim one afternoon.

was he ashamed that he was doing this without you knowing, almost every week? yes.  did he care? of course not. knowing how fine he was, he knew at least one person was doing it to him, so why can’t he do it to you?

smart mans logic right here, folks.

squeezing the grip around his dick tightly, thinking about how good you feel whenever he’s inside of you, replicating that feeling as he looks at your pretty face.

the pit in his stomach whenever he finished right on his phone was like no other; it felt so good he just couldn’t stop.

mouth-watering with anticipation and wanting to do it again but knowing his limits on looking like a weirdo even to himself.

[gooobraghhh]

Extremely modest trans guy with low libido and bottom dysmorphia so bad he’s never fucked and barely touches himself starts testosterone and suddenly gets such debilitating heat that he’s ordering increasingly bigger and stronger sex toys to try and satisfy himself. Getting off several times a day with toys in his ass and boy cunt while using a wand on his miserably hard tdick which is still not enough for him. While taking out his bedroom garbage which consists of several bottles of fully used lube he bumps into the trans girl who lives in the adjacent apartment. While talking she clocks the bottles sticking out the top of the garbage bag. Trans guy gets embarrassed as he reflects on how much time and money he’s spent on getting himself off in increasing slutty ways. Thinking of her knowing just what he gets up to should make him fill up with shame but instead he feels his heartbeat in his cunt as his dick throbs and his boxers get soaked.

“So that’s what all that noise was” she gets out before another neighbor joins the conversation. Trans guy finishes the chore and gets back to his room where he sits and catches his breath before being unable to resist the need to stroke his pulsating dick. He thinks about her mouth as she said those words. She was always so pretty and has such a fuckable mouth that his cock could slide right into. He feels his leaking cunt throb and imagines her pinning him down and fucking him until he was satisfied and full of her cum. He shudders at the thought, half in shame and half in needy excitement. After a moment of contemplation his needs take over and he continues to touch himself while sending her a message asking if she wants to see what she’s been hearing. Finishing the message with a hastily taken photo of his needy body. The message sends as he fills with dread. He can see she’s typing a response as he anxiously touches himself.

“Poor pup, I’ll make sure to help you with that stubborn heat of yours, see you in a moment. Make sure to keep the door unlocked for me love”

As he reads the words his body shakes and his fingers move just right over his hard dick. He lets out a stifled moan as he pathetically paints the inside of his pants with his cum which leaks and makes a mess on his floor. Even after cumming his body throbs in anticipation of the footsteps approaching his door undeterred by his former modest nature or what limited clarity he should have received from this orgasm. All he can think about is finally getting fucked like the dog he is.

[dearjaeyuns]

we can’t be friends — [ 엔하이픈 성훈 ] genre ⋆ smut

“we really shouldn’t.” you gasped, feeling the tip of sunghoon’s cock press against your clit. you’d be crazy to deny that he felt like heaven, but there was a reason this felt wrong.

he held you down with one hand, using the other to guide his length between your folds. “just the tip baby, i promise.” he did his best to assure you. his eyes were narrow and he turned his focus primarily on wetting his cock between your legs.

the truth is, you and sunghoon had broken up weeks ago. yet you couldn’t fully let go of each other. when he called you late on nights like these asking to see you again one last time, you’d always show up – and it always ended with him buried balls deep in your cunt.

“we can’t, sunghoon.” you whimpered pathetically, hand pushing at his chest when his tip finally sunk into your hole. sunghoon’s brows furrowed and he audibly hissed at the familiar tight squeeze of your pussy. he’d observe you carefully while he pulled his thick tip out to kiss your fluttering hole, just to slide it right back in again with ease.

it didn’t take long for you to stop pushing at him. pretty soon you were holding his shoulders for support and rocking your hips forward in an attempt to take more of him inside you. you always folded under him. his touch was one of a kind and there was no way you’d ever be able to take just the tip. you needed more.

“deeper, hoonie. p— please.” you cried pitifully, but he only shook his head. with a cocky smirk he whispered, “just the tip, remember?” and he’d leave you with no choice, fucking you shallowly at a fast pace until he was close to finishing.

and that’s right when sunghoon would get immensely selfish. he’d snap his hips forward and force his cock deep inside you. the feeling of his warm cum spurting your insides made you gasp, immediately creaming all over him right then and there.

with a beautiful smug look on his face, he’d pull out his phone and snap a photo of your fucked-out oozing cunt. sunghoon would be so proud of the filthy mess he had made of you. he’d text you the photo the very next night, calling you and urging you to come over again. “baby girl, you’ll always be mine. now come back and let me fuck you properly this time. we can make ourselves a video instead.”

[audisive]

♪ WEST COAST. (💌) – next part

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: soap accidentally finds out about simon's girl.

tags: fluff, romance, simon is a big baby !! let us all accept this fact, soap and his assumptions, uh bad jokes, very rushed fic, crack ?, reader can indeed fix simon

Soap isn't sure when his assumptions started, nor is he sure how it got to Gaz and Price himself. 

Maybe it was when he started to notice that Ghost left base whenever he could. (How come ye never leave base? It's a hassle havin' to go back and forth for nothin', Johnny.) Maybe it was the smudged color of red and pink on his balaclava, the lingering perfume on his hoodie, or his new wallet taking the place of one that was once worn out.

"Wha's yer favorite perfume, LT?" "My enemies' sweat and tears."

(It's well-known that despite the fact that Ghost does consider the 141 to be his family, he keeps his personal life very private and away from them. They respect that, in turn, but let's face it, Soap is nosy.)

Really, it was an accident. Soap swears it was!

He just happened to be passing by his lieutenant in the bar where the team had all gone to celebrate a wreck of a mission that they've managed to successfully finish. Truly, it was an accident when his eyes caught a glimpse of Ghost's new wallet, and he really, very much so did not mean to watch a little too long – long enough for it to open and reveal a hefty amount of cash and a small square of colors, barely noticeable. 

Soap's feet move before he could quietly search for more.

"Got a new wallet, aye?" He slides beside the taller man smoothly, just as the Brit had grunted out another order of Bourbon. Ghost hums in acknowledgement.

"Y'got a crush on me or somethin', Johnny?"

Soap chuckles even if the other does not. "A just happened tae see it. Fancy little thing."

It doesn't take long before Ghost disappears into the night, but the Scot swears his pace was a bit faster than usual when he left the awfully-smelling bar, and Gaz would be lying if he said he didn't see the little picture of a pretty bird tucked away in his scarily huge lieutenant's wallet.

It's not that Soap often makes bold assumptions about people and their personal lives, not when they're out of reach from him, but can you really blame him for thinking that the words 'Ghost' and 'girlfriend' do not sound right in the same sentence? Would it be considered an assumption this time if he'd seen the photo himself? Surely, his superior isn't some perverted freak who keeps an image of a breathtaking woman he randomly found in his private items. Uh, he hopes not, at least.

"Bullshit!" is what a drunken Soap yells when the Brit nonchalantly discloses to the team, without hesitation, that he is simply not interested in dating. He spills everything he's gathered in the past few months, from the smallest hints to the biggest; the unfamiliar strand of hair on Ghost's hoodie to the wallet from months ago.

"A'm no crazy!" Soap convinces no one as he's ushered back to the barracks for making such an insane assumption about the lieutenant in his unreliable state. Ghost's lips curl up into a smirk against the cold glass of Bourbon in his hand, sat back and relaxed with his legs spread wide.

Call him a big baby (he is) for making a fool out of his sergeant instead of just telling the truth and bragging about his angel to the others, but can you blame him? He just wants to keep you tucked away in his pocket, away from everyone else. What are you talking about, lovie? 'Course 'm not ashamed of you. You're just too pretty for them, is all. Gotta keep m' girl safe, yeah?

Besides, they don't have to know the way Simon melts into the nook of your neck when he gets home from deployment or know that he uses your lavender-scented shampoo. And no, it doesn't matter that Johnny knows. It's his word against the lieutenant's. He spares his LT and turns a blind eye this once.

When the time is right, Simon is sure to properly introduce his heart to his unspoken family. For the time being, he just wants to keep you his pretty little secret.

    divider by @cafekitsune !

[echstacy00]

ex!nicholas a. chavez x fem!reader

might be inspired by ‘we can’t be friends’ by miss ari <3

"we really shouldn't." you gasped, feeling the tip of nicholas pressed against your clit. you'd be crazy to deny that he felt like heaven, but there was a reason this felt wrong.

he held you down with one hand, using the other to guide his length between your folds. "just the tip baby, i promise." he did his best to assure you. his eyes were narrow and he turned his focus primarily on wetting his cock between your legs.

the truth is, you and nicholas had broken up weeks ago. yet you couldn't fully let go of each other. when he called you late on nights like these asking to see you again one last time, you'd always show up - and it always ended with him buried balls deep in your cunt.

"we can't,nick." you whimpered pathetically, hand pushing at his chest when his tip finally sunk into your hole. nicholas’s brows furrowed and he audibly hissed at the familiar tight squeeze of your pussy. he'd observe you carefully while he pulled his thick tip out to kiss your fluttering hole, just to slide it right back in again with ease.

it didn't take long for you to stop pushing at him. pretty soon you were holding his shoulders for support and rocking your hips forward in an attempt to take more of him inside you. you always folded under him. his touch was one of a kind and there was no way you'd ever be able to take just the tip. you needed more.

"deeper, n-, p- please." you cried pitifully, but he only shook his head. with a cocky smirk he whispered,

"just the tip, remember?" and he'd leave you with no choice, fucking you shallowly at a fast pace until he was close to finishing.

and that's right when nicholas would get immensely selfish. he'd snap his hips forward and force his cock deep inside you. the feeling of his warm cum spurting your insides made you gasp, immediately creaming all over him right then and there.

with a beautiful smug look on his face, he'd pull out his phone and snap a photo of your fucked-out oozing cunt. nicholas would be so proud of the filthy mess he had made of you. he'd text you the photo the very next night, calling you and urging you to come over again.

"baby, you'll always be mine. now come back and let me fuck you properly this time. we can make ourselves a video this time instead." you roll your eyes as you could practically hear the smirk on his face through his tone.

 genesisxc 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[chlorinecake]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ִ ۫ 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 | 𝐋.𝐌𝐇

⭑ PAIRING: fuck buddy ! cat dad ! minho x f. reader

𖥻 SYNOPSIS: A broken air conditioner in your best friend's apartment leads to him having to shack up with you until things get sorted, but considering his sex drive, it doesn't take long for things to get steamy in a different way...

⭑ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, temperature play kink, kissing, dry humping, masturbation (f. receiving), minho gets a bit jealous at one part, mentions of food, mentions of enhypen's jake, crying (barely), finger + tit + neck sucking (f. receiving), not proofread

𖥻 WORD COUNT: 5.2k - DAY 5

⭑ AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic was originally intended to be a gift for @minhosimthings 's 21st birthday, but since I was such an amazing moot and didn't finish writing it in time, I simply decided to save it for now hehe ^^

OCTOBER.

Not usually the warmest month of the year, but it had become precisely that for your close friend Minho when his apartment AC suddenly gave out, leaving him to sleep with nothing but his boxers on almost every night—

“Proof?” You asked via text while ending your three-hour long conversation with him one night.

Ding!

A picture of Lino and his sweat-glazed body took over your phone screen, his toned thighs just barely hanging off his gingham-dressed bed set with a spare pillow being placed precariously in the place where you're certain his bulge would be.

“Since you were so desperate to get a first-hand glimpse of my suffering… hope you're satisfied now,” his text read below the photo, and you smiled at the message, not even bothering to scold yourself for blushing…

“Trust me, this did the trick... can't wait to get you outta that hell hole and in some proper air conditioning, though...”

“Looking forward to it,” Lino texted back with a pink heart emoji, “goodnight now, kitty.”

“Night night!” You returned, feeling your cheeks warm up at the pet-name he used for you, and you used to hate smiling at your phone whenever you got a flirty message from someone, but when it came to Minho, you didn’t mind the butterflies as much…

You laid your head on your pillow, facing the ceiling as a gentle sigh fell from your lips, and the selfie that Lino sent you meddled in the back of your mind, causing your imagination to do wonders in making the photo come alive...

Despite being best friends who admittedly had sex with each other from time to time, Minho, had been the subject of your sexual fantasies for a while now, and you honestly couldn’t blame yourself for it…

I mean, let’s be real, he's got that dark and handsome thing going on with a platinum smile to match.

And let's not forget about his muscular build, too, which is the result of hours spent either dancing or hitting up the gym every week.

You’ve always had a thing for him, and you vividly remember the first night you two crossed the line between strictly friends and something a little more than that.

It was the night right after he got fired from his job, and while upon stopping by your place to cool off some steam, the both of you were two drinks passed tipsy as the sexual tension ran rampant between you.

Y’all were cooking dinner together, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him as he chopped vegetables and sautéed meat...

The way his toned muscles rippled under his T-shirt as he navigated the kitchen was too much for you to handle that night... you remember feeling your panties grow damp in that moment, just like they were now as you imagined him pinning you against the kitchen counter and fucking you completely senseless.

Sliding your hands beneath your covers, you found the hem of your pajama pants while imagining Lino was right before you, telling you to undress for him.

And although your eyes were closed, you could see the whole memory as clear as day, playing each moment over slowly in your mind as if watching a clip from your favorite movie…

You thought about how you put the spoon down that you used to stir the pasta before walking over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist while sighing at the contact.

Envisioning the way he looked back at you with a mixture of pleasant surprise and desire staining his gorgeous features, you remember feeling his hard cock press against your front.

And back then, it startled you at first… the fact that he had gotten so turned on just from being around you—

“Minho,” you remember whispering to him, and you did the same thing now as you laid on your mattress with a heavy heart, your fingers slowly gliding over your bare cunt in the same way that his fingers touched you before.

In your memory, he only responded by grabbing your waist and kissing you deeply, all before lifting you up onto the counter and spreading your legs apart so he could get between them.

He leaned in close, his breath warm yet shiver-inducing against your face as he whispered back, “I want you so bad, ____…”

He trailed kisses down your neck, making his way to your cleavage where he toyed with your nipple slightly, and you let one of your hands grope your tits to mimic the way he touched you then.

Arching your back against the mattress, you recall moaning faintly as he sucked and bit at your sensitive skin, his skilled hands roaming your body beneath the thin fabric of your shirt.

You reached down for the button on his jeans and undid it before pulling down his zipper to free his aching cock, and you remember stroking it gently as you felt it twitch in your hand.

Lino groaned at your touch, and it wasn’t long before he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you to the edge of the counter, positioning himself at your entrance while teasing your clit with the tip of his cock.

You whimpered, both back then and presently while laying in bed, and you begged him to fuck you as if he was actually there with you.

Using your index and middle finger, you jammed them inside your cunt, crying out in pleasure while imagining your pathetic digits were your best friend’s fat cock thrusting inside you.

You remember being fucked rough and fast by him as his balls slapped against your ass with every snap of his hips, and you could feel yourself growing closer and closer to orgasming.

“M-Minho, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, feeling your walls clench around your fingers as you kept fingering yourself to the memory of him making you love to you, and you eventually did just that…

Your climax ripped through your body like a freight train, and you imagined Minho’s orgasm following yours soon after, filling you up with his hot release.

Panting out loud, you slipped your fingers from your cunt, only opening your eyes slightly now as you melted back into reality, wishing that Minho could be right beside you now like he was back then…

You thought about the way he looked at you with a satisfied smile before pulling you into a tight embrace.

“I love you, ____,” his voice responded in the back of your mind as a gentle whisper, and you felt yourself becoming sleepy as you turned to lay on your side, still shaken up from climaxing so fast…

“I love you too, Minho,” you whispered to yourself as if he could hear it, smiling with closed eyes as you finally fell fast asleep, just mere hours from facing the morning ahead of you…

THE NEXT MORNING came by faster than you expected as a now fully clothed and much less sweaty Minho stood at your doorstep, a dainty porcelain dish resting in the grasp of his veiny hands.

You had invited him over to stay over at your place until the broken AC situation at his place got sorted out, and you were more than ready to spend the next few days with him under the same roof as you…

“I come bearing treats,” he chirped with a smile as you welcomed him in with a friendly hand.

He was wearing a dark turtleneck sweater and dark pants to match with an auburn, plaid trench coat to top of his gold accessories.

“Oh, Minho,” you began while taking the tray from him, a certain smell having distracted your train of thought, “you didn't have to go out of your way and… wait… is there espresso in this?”

“Mhm,” your friend nodded proudly while kicking off his shoes before making his way to your all-too-familiar kitchen where he opened the fridge door for you, “with mascarpone creammm, lady fingersss, cocoa powderrrr—”

“You made me tiramisu?” You asked with widened eyes, making him chuckle a bit at your shocked reaction.

“As a symbol of my appreciation since you opened your home up to me, of course,” Lino smiled before leaning against the kitchen counter, and you couldn’t help yourself from giving him a hug in this moment.

At first, his body tensed up at the way your hands felt upon wrapping around him so suddenly, but he eventually relaxed as you lazily spoke the words, “You feel like a human oven right now…”

“And you feel like a freezer,” Minho returned while chuckling, just as you broke from the hug.

“Yea... I guess that happens sometimes when your air conditioner isn't busted…” you shrugged sarcastically, and Minho gives you a painfully forced laugh before following your trail back to the living room—

“Where're your cats?” You inquire, noticing that he had brought all of their play and food gear, but the pets themselves were no where in sight.

“Oh, they're waiting for me in the car, actually,” he said, walking past you to put his shoes back on at the front door.

“So your precious little felines are too good for a local pet-sitter now?” You tease, feeling your heart warm up at the sound of him snickering at your comment.

“Not just that,” he began, “my little kitties are angel's indeed, but I'm not ignorant to the fact that they can be a handful... even for me...”

You let his words sink in, taking a mental note of what he said.

“Want me to help you gather them from your car then?” You offer, meeting him where he stood at the door now.

“Please,” Minho scoffed, side-eyeing you with a small smirk, “you doubt that I can handle my own three baby's or something? I mean... c'mon, have you seen my arms lately?”

“No, actually... just your thighs,” you said while tilting your head at him, clearly checking him out, and the look he gives you would’ve otherwise knocked you clean off your feet if he was any closer to you—

Beep beep.

The sound of Minho’s car blared in the distance as you pressed to “UNLOCK” bottom on his keys upon the two of you making your way outside together.

Single-handedly, Minho opens the door for himself, and you watch with a shy smile as he scoops his cats up in his arms, their dainty paws tugging and scratching at his jacket almost immediately.

“So much for making me feel loved and cherished, you guys...” Minho says jokingly as of his cats can understand his words, and you help by opening the door for him to come back inside when you get a notification from your phone.

The sound catches Minho’s attention immediately, but you’re not aware of the dinging until you hear it again… and again, til you hear it a total of five times.

“Looks like someone’s popular today,” your friend says from behind you while setting his cats down to roam the house freely.

“Eh, it’s probably just my boss,” you return while walking over to your desk to see who the message is from, “I have a meeting later today, and he’s probably just wondering if I’m still up for it…”

Her boss?… Sending her more than three messages in a row?… Minho thought to himself in the back of his mind, and his ears are quick to notice how quiet you get suddenly.

He waits for you to say something… anything at all, but you remain silent, a focused expression taking over your face now as your thumbs tap your phone screen like crazy.

Ding.

Another message comes through, and Minho can’t ignore the curiosity brewing inside him anymore.

“Who’re you texting?”

“A friend… good thing it wasn’t my boss…”

“What friend?” He asks again, and he’s trying to hide the irritation in his voice as you fail to look him in the eyes while speaking to him.

“Just Jake…”

“Jake?” Minho repeated, almost sounding disgusted that you had even said such a thing, “you mean that… that dog guy?”

“If that’s what people are calling him these days, then yes, that dog guy,” you return plainly, eyes still glued to your phone.

Minho makes sure your front door is locked before walking past you to grab the remote from your desk, clicking the TV on so his cats could watch something while sitting on your couch.

“Whatever,” he scoffed beneath his breath, and you only spare him a quick glance before going right back to texting, “you’re clearly more of a cat person anyways… right?”

“Lino, he was just wishing me good luck at my meeting, alright?”

Yea, the meeting you didn’t even bother telling me about, Minho thought to himself again before your voice interrupted him to say:

“It’s really not that deep…”

“Right… not like I'd expect much depth from Mr. Short-Stuff to begin with—”

“Bro, knock it off, will you? You two are literally the same height for crying out loud…”

“Who said I was talking about height?”

You look up from your phone, giving him a deadpan look as you sighed with frustration, “Minho…”

“Alright, alright, I'm knocking it off now, relax…” he said as the sound of a random TV show filled h the w background now, and he internally rolled his eyes at the way you were acting with him now.

“Thank you…” you replied half-heartedly before setting your phone down on your desk finally, “and enough about Jake for the rest of the time you’re here, please… he's not a concern to you…”

“Yea, of course,” Minho sarcastically agreed as he made his way over to sit on the couch with his cats, “no concerns… no worries… you and I are just friends at the end of the day, too, right?”

“Right… just friends…” you returned, just as the alarm clock on your phone went off this time.

“Shit, I gotta get ready… I’ll be doing my meeting here at my desk, so if you could turn the TV off once I come back, that’d be great, yea?” You asked in a rushed tone, and Minho simply nodded, right before you made your way to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

Sighing, the poor guy couldn’t help but feel threatened by Jake’s presence in your life… and as hard as it was for Minho to admit, Jake was a good looking guy who had an equally attractive personality to go with it…

“We’re just friends,” Minho said to himself in a mocking tone as his cat Dori crawled into his lap, purring softly for cuddles…

“Yea,” he continued to say out loud, feeling the stress in his hands barely ease away as he massaged the top of Dori’s head, “friend’s who fuck each other…”

ABOUT AN HOUR had passed before your meeting was finally all done and over with, and to your favor, everything turned out great!…

Though, you still expected to be glued to your desk for at least another hour or two as your boss had assigned you with a new company proposal to work on.

Your home-printer had just finished spitting out a stack of 25 sheets of paper that you were expected to have proof-read and revised by the next morning.

Yes, you genuinely did love your job… but sometimes, the workload could be a handful, and it wasn’t helping one bit that Lino and his cats were having a play date just a few feet away from you.

Cat toys like fuzzy balls and squeaky fish decorated your floor like a daycare center as the three animals crawled on every surface they could in your home.

Paying Minho a quick look, he was still sitting on the couch, Soonie laying on his chest as he brushed over her fluffy body with his hand, cooing at the sleepy creature…

Seeing Minho behave so lovingly with his pets always touched a soft spot inside you, and that’s when he senses your eyes are on him, turning his head on the couch briefly to return a glance.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” He began, and the cat visibly purred at the feeling of Minho’s deep voice vibrating against her body.

“Very,” you said softly, looking away now as you reached for the nearby stapler, clipping the stack of paper in place, “so beautiful that it’s distracting, in fact…”

“I wasn’t talking to you, silly,” Minho chuckles, making your eyebrows screw into confused squiggles—

“I was asking Soonie about you…” he finishes, looking back at your for a second with a loving look in his eyes, and you try not to smile at his words, only because you know how much he likes teasing you for getting flustered with him…

You loved the way Lino’s presence always had a way of warming you up from the outside-in, and you almost started to feel guilty for giving him such a hard time earlier.

Clink!… Splash…

“Dori, watch out!” You called out suddenly with a loud voice, and Minho turns to see what you’re yelling about.

“That’s Doongie, ____… she’s the orange one, remember?” Minho asked jokingly, but you’re too distressed now to pay his humor any mind.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have bought so many cats so I could recall their goofy names better…” you sighed with a broken voice now, looking at the mess before you that Minho was still oblivious to…

Dori, Doongie, or whatever he name was had leaped onto your desk out of excitement, only to knock over your cup of coffee, causing it to spill all over the documents you just printed…

And yea, it was obviously an accident, but this was the second time today that you ran into an obstacle since Minho arrived, and you couldn’t hold back your anger anymore…

“Heyyy, that’s not nice,” Minho began with a pout, though his voice sounded quiet in your ears as your eyes started to brim with frustrated tears, “my kittie's were very respectful when you first joined the family… even when you always stole their daddy’s attention…”

With a quiet sniffle, you wiped the tears from your eyes as fast as you could before Lino could notice it, sulking to yourself as you thought about how long it’d take to reprint all the papers and go over them with new revisions again…

“You’re right, Lino,” you said in a weak voice, picking up the curious orange cat from your desk as she was only starting to track coffee-paw prints all over your keyboard, “And sorry, Doongie… I shouldn’t have yelled at you...”

Everything was stressing you out, at this point, and it only made you feel worse for being such a miserable host to Minho, especially in his first day over.

“I’ll come back in a bit to clean this up, but I just need to lay down for a minute if that’s okay?” You whispered, and by time Lino could process everything that was happening l, you were already walking off back to your room.

“C-clean up?… ____, come back please,” Minho stood up from the couch, calling after you only to have you shut the door at his words… literally…

A small sigh fell from his lips as he walked over to where you sat, and he’s just now becoming aware of the huge mess of coffee and soggy papers all over your desk.

“Oh, Doongie…” Minho sighed again, looking back at his cat who sat quietly at the very top of the cat tree set, playing with one of the fuzzy toy balls she had carried from the floor, “way to go ruining my romantic moment…”

MINHO TOOK IT upon himself to help and tidy things up while you were regathering yourself in your bedroom.

Sure, he usually didn’t handle household chores much beyond cooking or baking, but he still made it his duty to correct some of the damage he had cost in one way or another.

A pile of dirty dishes in your sink became the centerpiece of your kitchen, coupled with the mini trashcan in the corner being filled to the top with old coffee pods, crumbled up sheets of paper, and takeout containers.

Though, by now he had already replaced the dirty trash bag with a new one, wiped off the coffee splatters from your desk and keyboard, printed a new copy of your work documents, and jotted down all the revisions you made to the best of his ability,

All that was left to do now was tackle the dishes you left behind...

Running some warm and bubbly water for the dishes, Minho slipped on a pair of rubber gloves, grabbed a sponge, and started scrubbing away.

You could faintly hear the clinking of plates from your room which made you run out to see what he was up to.

“Hello again, stranger….” Minho greeted sarcastically, despite the way he smiled at you.

“Hey…” you returned quietly while walking behind him and wrapping your arms at his waist... a gesture you're just now realizing you did a little too frequently to call yourselves just friends...

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you continued, looking beside his frame to watch as he rinsed the bubbles from around the sink, “I should be cleaning my own messes, Minho... you're supposed to be a guest, for Christ's sake…”

“I know,” he says softly, mirroring the tranquility in your tone, “just figured you could use the extra help, though…”

Slipping off the gloves, he hangs them over the sink, before removing your hands from hugging him, “Go in the den real quick, and I'll meet you in there...”

And either being too exhausted to object or simply obedient to his dominance, you do exactly as he says, walking back to the living room and taking a seat on the couch... and you're glad to find that his cats are sleeping in their shared kitty bed, resting soundly together.

Meanwhile, Minho was busy rummaging through your fridge, looking for the dessert tray he had brought earlier. He wanted to cute you a nice square of tiramisu from the dish before heading back to the living room, a single fork clad in his grasp.

You watched him with a raised eyebrow as he approached, placing the plate of tiramisu in your hands. He then settled at the end of the couch across from you, reaching down to grab your ankles and pull your legs toward him.

That was odd, you thought to yourself, very odd...

“So, let's skip the bullshit here and cut straight to the chase,” he began in a low voice, shamelessly letting his fingers trail up your calves before parting your legs open at the knees; “You’ve been trying to avoid me, haven't you?”

You let yourself blink a few times before challenging him in a similarly catty tone, “I don’t know, have you given me a reason to?”

“Of course not… Hell, I even made you this fancy ass dessert from scratch... you should be praising the air I breathe right now...”

“Alright, Gordon Ramsey... give me a second to taste it first and then I’ll decide if you deserve that much…” You replied, taking the fork that he handed to you from his grasp before sticking it into the fluffy treat and bringing it to your mouth.

“Finally... now how's it taste?” He asks, tilting his head at how long you took to swallow such a small bite.

“It's delicious,” you return with a nonchalant voice to egg him on even more, even though deep down you had to fight the urge to take another bite.

It was almost shocking how good it tasted, and his ratio of all the ingredients was worth cultivating an entire culinary study for...

Though, your train of thought was soon interrupted once he leaned in closer to you, resting his flexed hands on the couch armrest you laid your head on, caging you beneath his frame...

“Y'know... you seemed much more pleasant over text the other night, but now... you're cold… what changed?” Minho asked, and you fought the feeling of nerves growing within your stomach, thinking back to how you imagined him on top of you just like this while you fucked yourself dizzy with your fingers...

“Maybe it’s this,” you whispered, tugging at the lower hem of his shirt, as a glint of playfulness flickered in his eyes, “you should know by now how bothered I get when thing's keep getting in the way of my desires...”

“Good, then. I’ll keep it on so you have something to hang onto,” he returned through a smirk, and you scoffed at him, right before taking another bite of the tiramisu.

“Please, just drop the act, ____,” Minho chuckled at your failed attempt at being intimidating, “You’ve practically been eye fucking me this whole time, anyway, so it's no surprise you’ve been so moody all day… you need me to fuck your nerves away, huh?”

“Oh, don't flatter yourself, Minho,” you retort, even though the dirty manner of his words makes you feel a rush inside.

Clink.

You take the fork, digging into the tiramisu once more as you gathered a hefty forkful, right before feeding some to Minho.

Though, a bit of the cream lingers at the corner of his mouth, and you moisten the tip of your thumb with your own spit before swiping at his lips and asking, “You always eat this messy?”

And Minho only responds with the fattest smirk you've seen all day, grabbing your wrist as he took your whole thumb in his mouth, humming around it as he sucked it clean before releasing it with a pop.

“You freaky bastard—”

“Just admit that you miss my touch…” Minho interrupts your insult, his voice laced with seduction as he shimmies all the way between your legs now, pressing his crotch against yours, “you’re doing anything you can to put your hands on me, anyway… so why don't you just take what you want?”

His question meddles in the fog of your mind, and you feel your heart rate start to increase just from having his body pressed so close to yours...

It was different from the times when you'd innocently hug him... it was different from the fantasies you had in the darkness of your room while completely alone... and above all, it was different when you were sober, fully present to experience every emotion bubbling inside you, even the nervous ones.

“Poor baby,” Lino pouts, and his voice pulls you back from your thought, shivering from wishing as he takes the cold, metal fork and runs it along the side of your neck, “you're too shy for your own good...”

His words resound in the back of your mind again, and you're not sure how long they linger there, but before you know it, he has his lips against yours, kissing you deeply as the thought of tiramisu is long gone, the pastry plate sitting on the floor now.

And he's groaning into your mouth, the taste of espresso on his tongue making you chase his lips even more, but only for his hand to keep pushing you down by the chest.

“M-Minho,” you mumble in between kissing him, “could you stop teasing me for one fucking second, please?...”

He lets himself chuckle at your neediness, smiling against your lips now as he whispers, “Sorry, kitty... I just like getting you worked up sometimes...”

And that's when your turn comes around to make him feel flustered as you let one of your hands find the base of his neck, and his breath hitches as you squeeze slightly, watching as the sexiest smirk overtakes his face now.

Leaning back down, Minho kisses you even harder now, and his hips can't help but to grind against you, and even though his movements are gentle at first, you let out a desperate moan that let's him know to keep going.

Both your bodies were heating up like crazy now as Minho's hand slowly crept under the soft cotton of your shirt, caressing the smooth skin of your stomach.

His breath was just as hot against your lips as his tongue danced with yours, making you shiver with anticipation as you both explored and claimed every inch of each other's mouths.

Foul wet sounds were filling the space now as his pelvis kept bumping into yours, rolling against you in fluid waves as if he was doing the sweetest dance of lust with you.

Minho's hands found their way under your shirt again, but this time he reached for the clasp of your bra, unhooking the latch with deft fingers and freeing your aching breasts from the confines.

You whined into his mouth as his hands cupped the weight of your tits, letting his thumbs teasing your nipples to hardness as your hands got equally busy, clinging at his shirt as you fought to get it off of him.

As your palms made contact with his warm flesh, you dug your nails into his back, urging him closer to you as a shaky grunt slipped past his own lips now, glaring at you with darkened eyes as the pain you caused mixed with pleasure.

Breaking from the kiss, Minho left a trail of wet kisses along your jaw before stopping at the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder.

He sucked and nibbled, marking you as his, and your eye rolled to the back of your head at the tantalizing feeling of his rough bulge humping against your clothed cunt.

It wasn't long before you two decided to change positions, though, straddling Minho's lap so that his rock-hard erection was trapped between your two bodies, allowing you to rock your hips at the perfect angle to draw him over the edge.

And you both were cursing under your breath at this point, practically drooling at the sensation of you rubbing your heat against his hardening length through your clothes.

Forcing you down and against his body, Minho captured your mouth in his again, claiming it with urgency as his tongue mimicked the rhythm of your hips.

You felt your arousal start to seep through your panties, and that was likely the last straw Minho needed to let himself go, whining beneath you as your hips bucked against his erratically.

“Oh, fuckkk!” You cried out, feeling your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as Minho, with one final thrust, felt himself cumming in his pants, a warm and sticky stain rising to the surface of his pants now as you cried out each others names, waves of pleasure consuming you both...

Panting and covered in the evidence of your mutual pleasure, you let your spent body collapse against him, hearing his heart race against your head as you laid on his chest.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, a satisfied yet tired smile on his face, “that went by so fast, but it felt so good,” he went on, “so... fucking... good...”

You laughed at his words, feeling how his warm breath tickling the top of your head.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,” you added, just as one of his hands moved up to stroke your hair slightly...

Snuggling impossibly closer to him, you hear him let out a sigh, one that started in agreement and ended in painful realization...

“I should probably get cleaned up now so you can finish revising that company proposal before the morning comes,” Minho says, but his words make you cling to him even harder, making it obvious to him that you had no intention of leaving him alone again anytime soon...

⋆♱✮ Thank you to everyone who made it to the end of this highly belated birthday fic, which actually concludes DAY 5 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408

@crownj1min @jay-0n3s @gacktsa @leeknowinggg

@d-dilemma @mrsjohnnysuh

[evnseokz]

{ ☆ prada jungwon }

pairing: idol! jungwon x f. reader

contents: masturbation, sexting, cum play if you squint, soft-dom! jungwon, needy! reader, p in v, protected sex, kissing, making out, slight overstimulation, aftercare & fluff at the end <33

synopsis: idol jungwon who’s gone most of the night looking absolutely DELICIOUS at the prada event so you send some risky texts because he looks so hot you’re getting turned on. this leads to him coming home and fucking you.

i enjoyed writing this i hope you guys enjoy reading it ^_^ (w.c. 1.7k)

you and jungwon had been together for awhile now, so you were used to his hectic schedule and him being gone late at night or all night long. this doesn’t mean it sucked any less having him away from you so often. jungwon had only been home for two days before he had to turn around and spend practically all day at some prada event. it was nearing 10pm and jungwon had already been gone for hours. you kept seeing photos of him popping up on your feed and he looked so good.

his hair has been styled in an edward cullen esque fashion, exposed forehead and hair quiffed messily. a sleek black turtleneck sitting snug on his toned body, the sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms. black slacks and belt to match. he looked so fucking hot. and he was out having fun, looking so good, and here you were sitting in your shared bed chewing on your lip as you watched clips of your boyfriend walking around the prada store. there was one video in particular you couldn’t take your eyes away from, a short five second video that had your thighs clenching and heat starting to pool between your legs. he was just trying on some sunglasses, something completely innocent but he looked. so. damn. good. and in this moment all you wanted was his cock nestled inside of you as he fucked you silly.

with your phone in one hand, your free hand falls to the waistband of your shorts, dipping inside to apply pressure to your clothed heat. you hum lightly at the feeling, bringing your hand back up to slip past your underwear and directly onto your heat. you start moving your fingers slowly, paying extra attention to your clit. quiet moans start slipping past your lips and you begin to crave more. you remove your hand from your bottoms just long enough to shimmy them down and off of your legs. you spread your legs wider, not being constricted by the fabric of your shorts anymore. your hand dips back down, fingers circling over your drenched hole, you slide one finger in, slowly pumping it in and out of yourself, moans starting to pick up in volume as you imagine your boyfriends fingers in place of yours. your eyes are squeezed shut as your finger move’s expertly in and out of you. you add in a second finger, the stretch feeling so good but still not as good as when it’s your boyfriends fingers instead. your body begins to shudder every so often, your high getting close. you decide to remove your fingers from your hole, and move them up to your aching clit. rubbing circles as your whole body begins to shake, moans tumbling out of your mouth as your orgasm hits. your fingers begin to slow down as you ride out your high, still panting from the initial hit.

as your orgasm finishes, an idea pops into your head. you grab your phone off the bed, it sitting face down next to you as it had fallen from your hand at some point. you open your messages app and pull up jungwons contact. you press the camera icon, opening up the application. you take your other hand a slide it up your heat, collecting your juices. your body jolts slightly, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. you angle the phone to where you can see your bottom half in the screen, fingers resting on your mound. you hit the record button, showing off your shiny, wet pussy. then spending some time showing off your slick that’s on your fingers, slightly separating them to see a string of slick attached between the two. you angle to phone up to your face, bringing your other hand up at the same time. and you place your fingers in your mouth suckling on them slightly, then removing them with a pop. you press end video, watching your masterpiece before sending it to jungwon.

y/n: [attachment: 1 video]

y/n: i need you so badly right now wonie

you send an extra message with it, anxiety and excitement coursing through your veins as you watch the screen intently. waiting for his response. your eyes scan the screen nervously, finally seeing the small words “read 10:12pm” appear underneath your message. you chew on your lip nervously awaiting his response. you see three dots pop up indicating he is typing, then they go away, and for a moment, nothing. they finally pop up again after what feels like an eternity, and a message follows shortly there after.

won: i’ll be there shortly.

heat rises to your cheeks as you read the message. you weren’t expecting him to drop everything to come back home just because of your message. you lock your phone and wait in anticipation. about 20 minutes go by, and you finally hear the front door unlocking, opening and then closing. you feel as though all your senses are heightened. hearing every small noise made and feeling every vibration in the house. you see your boyfriends shadow appear at the door, causing you to look up and see him standing there, leaning against the doorframe. looking even sexier than he did in the videos.

“you could’ve gotten me in trouble y/n, what if my manager or one of the members had seen that?” he starts off with a light scolding before making his way over to you. your lip finds its way back under your teeth as you analyze his every move. you’re still sitting against the headboard, pantless, knees tucked to your chest slightly. he stops in front of you, towering over your sitting figure, and grabs your chin forcing you to look up at him. he takes your bottom lip under his thumb, pulling it from between your teeth, before lightly swiping it across the skin of your lip. he moves his hand to your cheek, caressing it slightly as you lean into his touch. “you’re so responsive, you really are needy for me huh?” he says. you nod eagerly, he leans down connecting his lips to yours in a kiss.

the kiss started off slow but picked up fairly quickly. before you knew it, your tongues were fighting for dominance and jungwon was leaning over top of you, at some point you ending up on your back. he broke from the kiss to trail kisses down your neck and the exposed parts of your collar bones. his fingers make their way to the hem of your shirt, “lets take this off yeah?” he says, you give him a nod, allowing him to remove your shirt from your body. his eyes immediately raking over your bare chest. “no bra? you planned this didn’t you?” he chuckles slightly. the hardness to his voice sending shockwaves straight to your core. “i-i didn’t… you just looked so good tonight won” you reply. he shakes his head at you, still chuckling slightly. he leans up off of you to rid himself of his own clothes. you rake your eyes down his entire body, mouth watering slightly at the sight of his hard cock.

he digs through the drawer of the nightstand to pull out a condom. quickly opening it and sliding it on his length. “i assume i don’t need to prep you as it seems you already did that yourself” he raises his eyebrow at you, and you nod shyly, heat rushing to you cheeks. he leans back over you, aligning his cock with your entrance, and slowly pushing inside you. you moan loudly, the feeling of him stretching you being absolutely euphoric. he groans slightly at the feeling of his cock being squeezed so well by your tight cunt. eyes squeezing shut as his head rolls back before coming around to face you again. his arms are planted on either side of you, your hands gripping his biceps, nails digging in slightly as he starts to move.

his thrusts pick up speed fairly quickly, and pretty soon you both are a moaning mess. jungwon taking time to lean down and kiss you ever so often, whispering praises in your ear about how well you’re taking him. his head falls into the crook of your neck, your arms wrapped around him as you hold him close. he’s still fucking into your cunt, his pace never faltering. he feels you start clenching around him signaling that your getting close, he brings his head up from your neck to pepper kisses on your face, before landing on your lips. he kisses you passionately, one of his hands traveling down to your heat, and rubbing circles on your clit as he thrusts into you. you moan into the kiss, panting ever so slightly at the same time.

you feel your muscles begin to tighten and everything starts to feel too good, and before you know it your orgasm comes crashing down on you. legs shaking, and moans spilling past your lips. jungwon continues to thrust into you, chasing his own high while helping you ride out yours. you begin to feel overstimulated as his thrusts get sloppier, his own high about to hit. “s’ t-too much wonie” you cry out, fingers raking down his back. “be a good girl and take it” he says back to you. his hips finally start to stutter as he cums, his seed filling up the condom. his thrusts finally slow, and you can finally catch your breath. his pulls his cock out of you, and you whine at the loss of fullness, clenching around nothing.

jungwon peels the condom off, tying it before throwing it away. he throws his underwear back on and goes to the bathroom briefly enough to grab a towel. he makes his way back over to you, sitting next to you on the bed, parting your legs enough to clean up the mess you guys had made. your body shudders slightly, sensitivity still evident. he tosses the towel into the hamper, and opens a drawer to your dresser, grabbing you a fresh pair of underwear. he slides them onto you, grabbing your shirt and shorts, and putting them onto you next. he climbs back into the bed next to you, laying down and wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you close as you nestle your head into his chest. he caresses your head, placing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“thank you for coming home for me wonie” you smile up at him. he smiles back, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “you’re welcome sweetheart, this was way better than that after party anyways.”

.

.

.

[maxverstappendefender]

girlfriend reveal // mv1 smau

description: norris!reader x mv1

y/d/n = your daughter’s name

a/n: all pics from pinterest, i don’t own any. here’s a smau for my inactivity. i feel some motivation coming back so keep an eye out for some posts!

masterlist

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 11,738 others

ynnorris: happy moments in spain 🇪🇸

view all comments

landonorris: how dare you not even put your favourite brother in this dump

user1: lando in the bucket hat on the last slide 😇

↳ user2: lando posted earlier today that he was in the uk…

↳ user3: WHO’S IN THE LAST SLIDE YN?!

user4: cutest mum ever!

danielricciardo: i miss my fav norris and niece. im sure she misses her fav uncle

↳ landonorris: im right here…

↳ charles_leclerc: YOU’RE HER FAVOURITE UNCLE? 🤣🤣🤣

↳ carlossainz55: yn’s in spain so clearly im the favourite

↳ oscarpiastri: Nah, it’s me

↳ ynnorris: none of you (besides lando) have any relation to me… you claimed yourselves to be y/d/n’s uncles

↳ landonorris: that means im the favourite uncle 😁

↳ ynnorris: no.

user5: anyone else wondering who’s in the second pic?

↳ user6: yes, prob her kids dad though

↳ user7: idk why she keeps y/d/n’s dad so private and secretive

↳ user8: im going crazy trying to figure out who that is

↳ landonorris: mwahahahaha 😈

liked by maxverstappen1, ynnorris, and 943,291 others

landonorris: summer break has been summer breaking (im the fav AND ONLY uncle)

view all comments

ynnorris: awww you have matching necklaces with your boyfriends, that’s so cute! how dare you not include me in this photo dump.

↳ landonorris: get out of my comment section!!

↳ maxverstappen1: Matching necklaces are in now

ynnorris: now why is my daughter behind the wheel of a car…

↳ landonorris: fake news.

user9: UNCLE LANDO

user10: he will be the best dad one day

↳ ynnorris: please god no.

user11: i love how lando put his niece in his photo dump but not his own sister

↳ user12: he’s a comedian rlly

liked by ynnorris, charles_leclerc, and 683,917 others

landonorris: sister got mad for not being included in the photo dump so here is my big sister and my big sister only!

view all comments

ynnorris: lando. when i catch you lando.

maxverstappen1: yn supremacy!

↳ user13: now what is this.

↳ user14: are we interrupting something?

danielricciardo: those were NOT your cheezits…

↳ ynnorris: im so (not) sorry, y/d/n made me

↳ danielricciardo: nuh uh. don’t you dare pin this on my sweet little angel baby of a niece

↳ landonorris: she’s half norris and half [redacted], don’t put it past her

↳ user15: don’t be shy lando. tell us who the father is

↳ user16: win incoming if you tell us who y/d/n’s dad is

↳ user17: WHO IS YN’S BABY DADDY LANDO NORRIS

user18: the minion toy in the pocket has me dying

user19: we want uncle lando back! even though brother lando is cute too

user20: lando is such a younger brother for posting these pics

liked by carlossainz55, schecoperez, and 819,004 others

maxverstappen1: Summer break ✅. Up next Zandvoort!

view all comments

user21: MAX VERSTAPPEN SOFT LAUNCHING?!

↳ user22: i used to pray for times like these

danielricciardo: okay mr verstappen, i was unfamiliar with your game

↳ maxverstappen1: You have been very familiar with my game

↳ ynnorris: pause. 😧

↳ danielricciardo: hate us cuz you ain’t us 🤷‍♂️

landonorris: no pic credits for the second pic?

↳ maxverstappen1: I have been paid by yn to not give pic credits for people who post bad photos of her

↳ landonorris: traitor

user23: what is it finna play? WOAH

user24: how did we go from cute stingrays to a soft launch

user25: girlfriend reveal now!

user26: walk with me people… yn posts a pic at an aquarium with someone holding y/d/n… max posts a pic of stingrays which are found… at an aquarium

↳ user27: tons of the drivers take y/d/n places with yn, don’t make it weird

user28: max ‘soft launch’ verstappen

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 12,058 others

ynnorris: started zandvoort a mclaren fan, finished zandvoort a red bull fan because i only support winners!

tagged: landonorris

view all comments

user28: the caption has me dying

landonorris: too close to home

↳ ynnorris: win next time then

↳ landonorris: at least y/d/n is still a fan of mclaren

↳ maxverstappen1: Is she though?

↳ redbullracing: is she really?

mclaren: im hurt yn.

↳ ynnorris: it wasn’t you admin, it was me.

oscarpiastri: ouch.

↳ ynnorris: if i ever say i dislike mclaren, never am i talking about you! team 81 all the way

↳ landonorris: wow. i post 3 bad photos of you and now im hated

↳ oscarpiastri: 🙂 thx yn

redbullracing: ❤️💙

user29: uncle lando!!

user30: never wrong yn ✍️

liked by ynnorris, landonorris, and 1,028,564 others

maxverstappen1: Heard people say I should do a girlfriend reveal and I would love to! I can’t do that anymore and haven’t been able to for a few years now but I offer a wife and daughter reveal ❤️

tagged: ynnorris

comments on this post are restricted

landonorris: FINALLY I DONT HAVE TO KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT

↳ danielricciardo: real.

↳ carlossainz55: real.

↳ charles_leclerc: real.

↳ oscarpiastri: real.

↳ schecoperez: real.

↳ mclaren: real.

↳ redbullracing: real.

ynnorris: best dad on earth

↳ maxverstappen1: Best mum on earth

ynnorris: been a long time coming now

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 29,371 others

ynnorris: heard we were hard launching?

tagged: maxverstappen1

view all comments

user31: my brain hurts

user32: bro what.

user33: didn’t see this coming

maxverstappen1: My girls ❤️

↳ ynnorris: baby no. 2 when? 🤔

↳ landonorris: threw up in my mouth a little

landonorris: now you can show your love on the internet and not in front of me

↳ ynnorris: never!

↳ maxverstappen1: Never!

↳ user34: poor lando

user35: they’re so cute 😭

user36: dad max?!

redbullracing: so when is little miss y/d/n taking over the red bull legacy?

↳ ynnorris: nope.

↳ maxverstappen1: Have to agree with the mrs. 🙃 (when she can reach the pedals of a kart)

↳ ynnorris: you’re so funny!! 😐😐

[tyunniez]

look at yourself, pretty... bottom male reader

!!.. amab reader, reader wears makeup, reader has a high ego, his bestfriend knocks that ego down lol, mirror sex, top likes to tease...

you stared at yourself in front of the mirror for the hundredth time today, admiring yourself and your choice of outfit for the day.

you twirled around a little checking how your shirt perfectly accentuated your waist and just how nicely your pants hugged your ass.

" i just picked the perfect outfit for today! " you yelled out while still checking yourself out in the mirror while your best friend eyed you.

" you done yet? " he asked, his voice unamused as he's already used to your behavior. you hummed while grabbing your things, already out of the room while yelling at him to hurry up.

he rolled his eyes, " i really don't get your obsession with mirrors.. " he murmured while catching up to you.

the both of you arrived at the cafe and finally managed to get a spot to sit at.

" i can't believe how crowded this place actually is.. the food better be good! " your best friend nodded while looking through the menu, already confused at some of the menu names.

while waiting for him to finish with the menu, you use the mini mirror you always bring with you to fix your hair and look at yourself.

after getting your fill and taking lots of insta worthy photos, you dragged him towards a nearby clothing store, already excited to try on new clothes.

you unlocked the door and showed yourself off to him, " so, how about this one? " you asked while twirling around to show it to him.

he looked you up and down before lazily replying. " yeah sure it looks great. can you hurry up? im getting bored. "

you tsked and closed the door again, opting to judge your outfit yourself. " ugh, you've been saying that for the past three outfits! honestly, why do i even bother asking you! " he rolled his eyes at you, even if you couldn't see it.

" though this other top might look cuter with these jeans... "

" hurry up and stop being so picky! "

after that whole fashion fiesta, you ended up buying all of it anyway, you started dragging him back and forth from place to place.

a satisfied hum escaped your lips as you suck on the spoon that contained gumball-flavored ice cream. you feel refreshed as the cold treat goes down your throat.

" ah.. this place is the best, isn't it? " you said while scooping up another spoon, already missing the taste of the sweet treat.

he hummed while licking up his strawberry ice cream, some of it already dripping down his fingers.

he watched as you set the ice cream down and pulled out your phone camera to look at yourself. " why do you keep looking at yourself on every reflective surface around you? no offense or anything.. " he suddenly asked.

you shut your phone and pick your ice cream up again while shrugging him off. " sometimes when you're just that pretty— "

a groan interrupted you, your best friend obviously annoyed at your response. you laughed at him, satisfied at annoying him again.

" i swear yn, i'm going to knock down that ego of yours. "

" i'd like to see you try. "

you shut your eyes as you tilt your head to the side. " oh no no no, don't you dare look away. " he says while forcing your head to the giant mirror in front of you. " open your fucking eyes, yn. "

you whine while forcing your eyes open to look at him, refusing to look at yourself getting dicked down in the mirror.

" come on, look at yourself pretty. don't you just love doing that? " you look down and shake your head, denying him even if he's actually right.

" i said look at yourself. it's really not that hard of a request right? " he whispered in your ear all while spreading your legs wider for you to see in the mirror.

you finally look at yourself and your dazed expression in the mirror. you glance down to look at how his dick is entering your hole, drool seeping out of your mouth.

he then slides his way onto your cock, rubbing and playing with the tip to tease you.

he laughs in your ear and lets go of your red cock, hoisting your legs up making his cock reach deeper in you and hitting that one spot.

your own best friend had you seated on him with his cock deep inside you. his two hands holding both of your legs up by grabbing under your knees.

he begins slowly, sliding you up and down his cock while enjoying your moans. he watches as your own cock twitch, begging for release already.

" hah look at you, drool down your face just because of this cock. " he taunts you causing you to shoot a glare at him using the mirror.

" s-shut up! if my makeup isn't ruined then are you even fucking me good? honestly, if you— " before your sentence could even finish, he slams you down on his dick making a loud moan escape your mouth.

" not fucking you good? oh, i'll make sure you're fucking crying after this, pretty. "

you whined out loud while trying to bury your face into the sheets, your makeup already long gone, smeared into said sheets.

he pulls your hair up to make you look up into the mirror, not even bothering to stop thrusting into you. " look at yourself pretty. see how your makeup is ruined now? " he mocks you.

you tried to look at yourself, trying to see how your mascara runs down your face because of your nonstop tears, your tears almost wiping the mascara clean. your lipstick smears itself all over your lips with drool and moans escaping from it.

but your eyes keep rolling up from the pleasure, your tears making your vision blurry.

he laughs as he watches your attempt at focusing on yourself, loving the way your eyes kept rolling upwards from how good he's fucking you.

" come on pretty, just look at yourself. don't you love to do that? " he forces your head back down into the sheets, muffling your moans and whines all while cumming into you for the third time already.

he then starts rubbing your cock, your previous release acting as lube for it.

you moan out loud into the sheets as you shoot your load for the fifth time already. "mmh.. no more! " you beg him, your voice muffled.

" ehh..? but im just starting to have fun! "

[murdrdocs]

torn at the seams

description. "and if we don't lose our virginities by seventeen, let's just lose them to each other, okay?" you were serious when you told STILES STILINSKI that in middle school, and now that you're both adults, and both still virgins, you intend to hold up your end of the bargain.

includes. SMUT MDNI 18+, loser! stiles (that's just canon), virginity loss for both parties, fingering, protected sex (hallelujah!), typical nervous stiles, teaching, lots of kissing, childhood friends

wc. 5.7k+

a/n: started this a yr ago and found it and finished it. for my bsf, happy (early) birthday! artwork is the kiss by edvard munch. title from cherry by lana del rey

From below, there was a soft thump of music, upbeat song after upbeat song following each other as whatever playlist your friends decided on played throughout the house. The floors and walls vibrate occasionally, giving you a faint idea of the beat. 

You would’ve focused more on it, maybe tried to figure out if it’s a song you’d pressured them into putting into the rotation, if you weren’t so distracted by the body steadily moving around your bedroom. 

You watch Stiles Stilinski, eyes trailing from the back of his faded shirt to the hand holding a red solo cup that you were 80 percent sure was half full of diet Coke. He walks around your bedroom, eyeing the pictures and collectible items you’d acquired over the years. 

Your own solo cup sat on your nightstand, temporarily living with more trinkets. A photo of you and friends, a few rings you didn’t intend to wear tonight, a tube of chapstick that usually sat on your lips in place of the lipgloss you wore tonight, a hand cream. The items you intended to use shortly were stashed under your pillow, purposefully put there for easy access. 

You had the urge to slide your hand under there and check their location, suddenly fearful that something had happened to them between the time you sat them there and went downstairs to join the party. 

But doing so would’ve been too obvious, so instead you sit still on your bed, shoes discarded and your feet folded under you. 

You continue to watch Stiles observe, your lips tugged into a small smile, remembering just how hyperactive Stiles could be. 

“And this picture. When was this?” he asks you. 

You lean forward a little, looking around his body whenever he steps off to the side. The photo in question is of you standing at an amusement park, just a year or so younger, a grin on your face as you stood in front of a popular attraction. 

“Early last year, my family trip.”

Stiles nods, understanding without details that every year your family went on a trip together, extended and immediate meeting at one location for at least a week. There were times when you were younger when you had to ditch plans with Stiles for your family. 

He doesn’t point out another picture. He rocks on his feet, amber eyes looking up at the ceiling. Suddenly, it occurs to you that Stiles is nervous. 

It’s different from how he used to behave when he was nervous as a kid. Then, he would stammer, gnaw on his bottom lip, tap his hands on the desk or his knee. Now his fingers subtly tap against the rim of his cup, his other hand stuffed in his pocket. He’s silent. He licks his lips instead of gnawing on them and the action directs your gaze right to them. 

You try not to stare, averting your eyes elsewhere. 

Scooting over to make room, you let your feet dangle off of the edge of the bed and pat the newly created space beside you. Stiles falters, glancing at your hand and then at you. It takes him a second but he eventually places his solo cup on your desk and skitters towards you.

The bed dips with his weight. He sits a little far from you, basically on the other end of the bed. It’s silent again. You both stare straight ahead. You wonder if he’ll speak first, so you remain quiet, waiting for him to make a move. When he doesn’t, you take a breath. 

“Do you remember when we were in middle school? And we made that pact?” 

You look over at Stiles in time to catch him thinking for a second, his eyes squinted and his lips parted. You see it come to him when he turns to face you. 

“You mean the whole virginity thing. If we didn’t lose our virginities by a certain age—” 17. If neither of you lost your virginities by seventeen. “Then we would …” he trails off, leaving the last bit in the air. 

You finish for him. “Lose it to each other.” 

“Yeah.” A beat, a moment where Stiles doesn’t say anything and neither do you. It’s then that you hear his fingers drum against the bed. “But … but that was just a stupid little pact. We were kids, y’know?” 

You shrug, turning your head to look over at him, fingers starting to twiddle in your lap. “Well, yeah. But I was serious. Were you not serious?” You don’t mean to sound as dejected as you do, but it comes out naturally, an accompanying pout forming on your lips. 

It feels a little manipulative, and you’re trying to get rid of it as quick as it appears, but Stiles already sees. 

Not expecting the effect on him, you’re slightly shocked when you see him start to worry a bit, nerves pushed to the side as he instantly attempts to soothe you. “Wha—Yeah. I mean, yeah. Of course, I was serious. ‘Were you serious?’ D-” He can’t continue his rambling when your lips are pressed against his, gloss finally ending up where you wanted it to. 

He hesitates and you start to worry that you overstepped a boundary. Before tonight, you and Stiles haven’t hung out since freshmen year. Lots of things have changed with you since then, and who knows what could’ve changed with him. Maybe he has a girlfriend, or maybe he was serious about the pact in middle school, but he isn’t serious now. Maybe he already lost his virginity and you’re just the late bloomer. 

You make the first moves to pull back, already planning to scoot to the edge of the bed, apologize, and down the rest of your liquor before going back downstairs. 

But then he kisses you back. Tentatively at first, nothing but a small press of his lips against yours, mimicry of a peck. It’s a tiny movement, but it’s all you need. 

You push yourself closer to him, your duvet rustling under your body. You place your hands in his flannel, fisting the fabric as his hands find your back, his palms resting flat along the curve. 

Eventually, the two of you peel apart, lips separating slowly, leaving both of you to look into the eyes of the other. 

“Was … is this okay?” Your voice is soft, but not because you’re shy. Your voice is soft because that’s how this moment feels—gently, soft, delicate. You feel comfortable in Stikes’ presence, and any timidness dissolves from your body. 

He takes a second, pretty brown eyes scanning your face with a look you’re not used to seeing on his face. His lips pulled into the hint of a smile at the corners, his eyes soft, a little lidded like they were the one time you got high freshman year. He looks relaxed in the way that he is in the morning right before he wakes up, with no stress present in his body at all. Knowing that he’s like this because of you makes you feel giddy inside. 

Stiles blinks and cups the back of your head with one large hand. He pulls you closer and places his lips back on yours. 

Kissing Stiles is nice, to put it simply. 

He tenderly kisses you with attention. His lips, smoother than you thought with the faint taste of cherry, glide over yours with precision. He doesn’t kiss you like he’s starving, but he kisses you like he’s appreciative. Like he’s as thankful for this moment as you are. 

You’ve always imagined yourself in this position. 

During late-night talks with your friends where you discussed crushes each of you would never get over, Stiles was always the first person on your mind. When you lay in your bed at night, sleep just out of reach, you’re only able to get closer to it with the thought of someone—with the thought of this. 

Truth be told, you didn’t expect him to kiss so well. His lips move with a bit of hesitation as if he’s still testing the waters, but his hold on you—large hands on the back of your head and the middle of your back— is secure. He keeps you in place, not like you’d want to be anywhere else. 

You move even closer until your knees knock together. You don’t know if it’s a reaction, but Stiles’ hand moves lower until his pinkie finger is against the small strip of skin left bare by your shirt and your jeans. His touch is warm, and it ignites something low in your belly, making you aware of a feeling you’re suddenly desperate to reach. 

You start to kiss him with a little more fervor, the change instantly picked up by Stiles who matches your energy. He guides both hands onto your back, sliding them lower until they rest at the top of your ass. He circles his grip around solely your hips and digs his fingertips into the meat of your skin. When he tugs you closer to him, there’s nowhere left for you to go. It’s only logical that you straddle his hips instead. 

You throw one leg over both of his, giving him unobstructed access to slide both of his hands down to your ass, the palms cupping the shape through the denim. You want to keep kissing him, but the small inhale of air through your nose isn’t doing much, so you pull away, instantly making it your goal to get as much air as you can as quickly as possible so you can go back to him. 

Stiles, though, wastes no time, his lips latching onto the skin around your jaw, kissing down your neck, reaching your collarbone. You’re incredibly thankful that you decided to wear a revealing shirt tonight, leaving the tops of your tits visible, open to Stiles’ lips. He presses kisses into the tops of your breasts, spurred on by the way you grip the back of his head with both of your hands. You throw your head back and breathe languidly, taking in slow gulps of air and letting them out even slower. 

The straps of your tee shirt fall down and then Stiles stills. You dip your gaze down to look at him, noticing how he’s staring straight at where he’s been pressing his lips. Your shirt still sits over your tits, but barely. If you relaxed and leaned forward a bit, the fabric would fall around your waist. 

Stiles looks up at you, his eyes wider than they have been all night as if all of it is suddenly dawning on him. “Are you sure? Do you want to stop?” 

You shake your head, hands starting to twitch at the back of Stiles’ head with anticipation. You run them up, fingers curling into his hair. Stiles’ eyes flutter shut and the image is breathtaking. It makes you wonder if he likes his hair pulled. Something you’ll have to try out eventually. 

“I’m sure,” you assure him, “but if you want to stop, just tell me, okay?” 

His small smile makes your chest a little tight, a deep breath just barely getting rid of the feeling. 

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” His head tilts and he looks fucking adorable. You want to see Stiles like this as often as you can, even outside of the capacity of fucking around. 

You shrug, hoping you look half as cute as he does. “It can go both ways, can’t it?” 

And you can’t resist him any longer, needing to have your lips back on his. It’s quickly becoming an addiction, kissing Stiles Stilinski. You kiss him with hunger this time, tasting the lingering vanilla Coke on his tongue. Your teeth clack a few times, the sound and feeling both unpleasant. So why do you keep letting it happen? 

It’s definitely because you’ll let Stiles do anything to you. That’s why you’re completely pliant even when he flips you over. 

It’s quick, and a little devoid of grace, but it does the job. 

You end up with you on your back, legs bent at the knees and spread open. The warmth of Stiles kneeling between your legs is comforting. It’s nice to feel crowded like this, but it doesn’t last for long. Stiles is kneeling between your legs for only long enough to kiss you once, and then he stands at the foot of your bed, staring down at you. 

You know you look a little disappointed, a pout probably on your lips, but when he leans down and reconnects your lips one more time, you’re smiling again. As he pulled away the tip of his nose brushed against yours as his eyes opened just enough to stare fondly at you. 

“I’m gonna take your pants off. Is that okay?” He asked you, hands already settling on the fly of your jeans. 

You nodded, your noses playing with each other with the movement. Stiles’ need for consent was driving you crazy in the best possible ways. It’s like you could feel arousal steadily gushing out of you, increasing tenfold when he stood up fully and positioned his hands at the waistband of your jeans. 

His eyes found yours once more, seemingly checking for any indication that you wanted to turn back. There was none deep in your body, and you hoped that your face hadn’t betrayed you and displayed any apprehension. To ease your worries, you gave Stiles a gentle smile, feet digging into the bed beneath you as you lifted your hips just a bit. 

Stiles took your answer in stride, slightly shaky hands peeling the button out of the hole, then sliding your zipper down until you saw the cherry-printed fabric of your panties. Stiles took a manual breath at the sight, hands halting as he just stared for a few seconds. He blinks twice, then hooks his fingers in your waistband and tugs your jeans over your ass, down your thighs and legs, and off around your ankles and feet, leaving you half-bare in front of your lifetime crush. 

You’ve always known that Stiles is one to stare, ogle even. When you were in the same fifth-grade class, he would spend lunch looking across the room at a certain redhead. When you constantly watched a horror movie together the summer before sixth grade, Stiles would shamelessly stare at the main character, even when she had one of the most brutal death scenes you’ve ever seen. 

Ogling is something Stiles is known for in your book. But having that directed towards you feels different. It makes you a little nervous, teenage jitters fluttering low in your belly, making you wring your fingers together and gnaw on your bottom lip. 

Stiles, realizing that he’s staring for once, takes a breath, his hands hovering at your hips before it reoccurs to him that he’s allowed to touch you in a moment like this. You’ve permitted him. 

His hands shake as they approach your hips, but they steady when warm flesh meets warm flesh. 

“You’re so pretty,” he tells you, voice soft and earnest. The moment is tender, it’s vulnerable, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable. 

“I’m not even naked yet.” It’s your attempt at a light joke to ease the heavy tension that’s suddenly painted itself on the walls of your room, surrounding both of you, trapping you in the very thing you’ve wanted since you were young. But having it makes you uneasy, the uncharted territory suddenly a whole lot scarier up close. 

For once, Stiles doesn’t take the bait. He doesn’t crack a joke back, he doesn’t make you double over in laughter with his sarcasm. His amber eyes look at you, his pink lips curl up into a smile, and he tells you, “You don’t have to be naked to be pretty. You’re beautiful.” 

And you’re sure that your friends will tell you that it’s a little cheesy when you tell them every single detail of this moment, but you don’t care about that right now. Right now, your heart is soaring in your chest and your entire body is alight and you need Stiles Stilinski in ways you didn’t even think were possible. 

Your breath hitches. You lick your lips. 

“Stiles,” your voice is softer than you intended, it makes the moment even more tender. His eyebrows lift and you continue. “I need you to touch me. Please.” 

He wants to, you can tell he wants to. But something is holding him back and you think you know what it is. 

“I can teach you how. I can tell you what I like.” Not like you know much, either. Only things you’ve learned from your own explorations. 

He nods, eager, and his hands find the hem of your shirt. “I wanna all of you. Is that okay?” 

Again with the consent. It makes your vision swirl for a second, two blinks bringing Stiles back in focus as you nod and sit up completely, arms over your head so Stiles can take the top off. 

Your bra and panties are the only garments left, and you look down at your frame, a surge of confidence overtaking you as you reach behind you and unclip your bra. 

It falls and the sound Stiles makes would be comical if it weren’t for the situation. Actually, it still is comical, you just stifle your laugh for his own sake. 

His pretty eyes are having some serious tunnel vision, eye line straight at your tits. You sit a little straighter, puffing your chest out just enough to make you question if drool is starting to pool at the corner of Stiles’ lips. 

You know that this is the first pair of tits Stiles has seen in person and the revelation makes you even more proud of the set you sport. 

You eye Stiles’ frame, suddenly all too aware of the stark contrast in clothing. 

You squint at him accusatively. “Are you gonna even the playing field?” 

He blinks at you dumbly once, twice, and then he looks down at his dusty blue shirt. “Oh!” 

He rushes to throw his flannel off and does the same with his shirt off, barely even giving you enough time to do some admiring of your own before his hands fumble with the buckle and zipper of his cargo pants, his legs were suddenly useless as he awkwardly stumbles out of his pants. When he stands up straight, there’s a proud smile on his face that makes you giggle just a little, and just that one moment eases any tension or nerves you are feeling. 

Because this is Stiles. Your Stiles. The kid with the hangout house who would always invite you over after school for movie marathons. The kid who would quickly let you copy his homework before the teacher got to you. The kid who would always wave to you in the hallways, even when your cliques were completely separate and you hadn’t properly spoken for months. 

And now he’s watching you climb further up your bed, following after you, a hungry gaze in his eyes as he trails his eyes over your body from head to toe. 

His hands find your hips once more, his touch light as he trails it down. His fingertips graze over the tops of your thighs, then they find your inner thighs. His touch makes your legs part more, some reference to the Red Sea hidden in there deep beneath all of your all-encompassing hormones. 

Stiles watches between your legs while he brings two fingers to your center. They trail down, separating your lips, letting the tips of his fingers add pressure that already has you wanting more. You gasp, just a small sound that’s accidental, and Stiles licks his lips, a determined look in his eyes. 

It’s a sudden movement when he pulls your panties down and off, tossing them at the foot of the bed where the rest of your clothes sit. There’s not even a moment for you to even imagine being insecure or uncomfortable with your bare skin. Stiles is already positioning his hand at your bare cunt, fingertips just millimeters away from connecting with your skin. 

He wants to act, you can see it, but he doesn’t. Instead, he waits, he hovers, and he glances up at you. “I … I don’t,” he takes a second to breathe, and you let him finish. “What do I do?.” 

There’s just the smallest amount of shame hidden beneath his words, but you don’t let it exist much longer when you soften your eyes. 

You sit up, reaching out for him. “Stiles,” his eyes lift to connect with yours, the furrow between his eyebrows starting to relax. “There’s nothing to worry about. Okay? I want you, like really bad, if you can’t tell.” There’s just enough amusement in your tone to ease the tension, Stiles’ lips turning up into a satisfied smile. 

He leans forward, presses his lips to yours once, and then slides his middle finger into you, slow and steady, met with just enough resistance to showcase your inexperience. His pace is slow, almost tortuous as Stiles slides the single finger in and out. 

The depth that his slender finger reaches is enough to have you begging for more. You lift your hips from the bed and push your pelvis out toward his hand, with a plea for another digit leaving your lips. 

Stiles easily complies, sliding his ring finger in to join his middle. The stretch burns for a second, but you’re fucking dripping at this point, and the haze in your mind combined with the lubrication prevents any possible discomfort. Instead, you’re focused on directing Stiles, directions filling the air along with your moans. 

He listens easily, something you’re more than thankful for, especially whenever his fingertips brush against a spot that sends a tingle up your spine, and he’s finding the spot to abuse over and over again as soon as you tell him where it is. 

When your eyes peel away from the ceiling, and you’re able to keep them open enough, you connect with a set of warm brown that lights your body. Stiles’ eyes are so attentive. You don’t think he’s been looking anywhere but at your face this entire time, despite your sheer nudeness. His lips are parted, still glistening with your gloss and saliva. His eyes are wide, never straying from you, eyebrows raised just enough to give the look of innocence. 

But nothing is innocent about the way his free hand is palming his dick through his briefs. 

Your eyes find the tent accidentally, a blink that sends your gaze downward for just enough time for you to pick up on the bulge beneath checkered boxer briefs. You can’t make out the size from here, especially not with the slight blur in your vision, your eyesight unsteady even as you try to blink it away. 

You start to speak, to ask Stiles for what you really want, when he does, too. 

“I wanna feel you.” 

“I wanna taste you.” 

Both of you sit still, Stiles’ fingers stopping, too. He stares at you as if he’s shocked that the words came from his mouth, and there are three blinks shared from each of you before your hips move again, chasing a high you had briefly forgotten about. 

“Can we do that next time?” The words leave your mouth surrounded by gasps, little breaths that prove how worked up you already are. 

“N…Next time?” His stutter is cute, a little flattering, and you’d spend more time thinking about it if you weren’t on the cusp of an orgasm. Stiles has started moving his fingers again, pace just a little faster, fingers starting to curl at an angle that has your hands fisting the sheets. 

You nod, muscles starting to tense. “Yeah. Next time. Just need you so bad right now, Stiles.” 

“Yeah.” He nods, stares at you, and then nods once more. “Okay. Yeah.” You’re close, so very close, and then Stiles—overeager, enthusiastic, about to blow his pants Stiles—pulls his fingers out.

The noise that spills past your lips is completely accidental, almost guttural. It’s deep, and comes from the part of you that’s so obviously frustrated (the part of you that’s purely hormones and no logic). Stiles looks startled for a second, a string of curses coming past his pink lips as he fumbles off the bed and towards his pants. 

“Shit. Were you about to cum? I’m sorry, fuck, that’s totally my bad.” He’s speaking to you, but his eyes are watching his hands which ransack his pockets. He doesn’t find what he’s looking for, the thud of jeans and a leather wallet hitting the floor alerting you. 

“What is it?” Your tone is a little more bitter than intended, but you’re disastrously horny and Stiles is under too much duress to notice. 

“I don’t have a condom,” he tells you, voice wobbling like it’s the worst news in the world. Like he’s telling you about the impending doom that’ll fall onto this plane of existence. His face is the most serious you’ve ever seen, and it’s a look you don’t really like on Stiles’ usually happy-go-lucky face. 

You don’t bother replying as you dig your hand under the pillow, ignoring how Stiles stares at you like you’ve lost your mind. 

It’s not until you whip out the two condoms you have, pinched between your middle and pointer finger like you’ve seen in countless movies, that Stiles’ face relaxes. 

“I came prepared.” You’re proud when you say it, happy that your anxiety-ridden over planning paid off in the end. 

Stiles looks relieved, too, quickly resuming his previous spot with one of his hands reaching out towards the aluminum packet between your fingers, except this time without his boxers. 

You try not to stare, truly, but it’s hard to keep your eyes from tilting down to look at his hard dick between you both. You're trying to calculate the length-to-girth ratio, making educated guesses on just how much pain and how much pleasure you’ll be in, but you’re just too busy taking it all in. 

Looking at the thick happy trail that leads down to the patch of pubic hair resting above his dick. His abdomen is tight, something you’ve known from the times he’s changed in front of you, too busy ranting about Coach Finstock to notice the way you’d stared at him. Now, you don’t care if he notices. Because Stiles is fucking hot, even more so in his position. 

His eyebrows politely furrow when you pull the aluminum out of his reach, his lips starting to form a question that you already started to answer. 

“Let me put it on. Please?” 

Stiles short circuits, you can see it with the way he dumbly blinks at you. It takes some prompting from you—a simple raise of your eyebrows—for him to nod, retracting his hand and sitting back on his heels.

“Go right ahead,” he confirms, his hands resting on his thighs. 

 You rip the packet open and pull the condom out, throwing the aluminum in the general direction of your nightstand, leaving it there for you to deal with afterward. Placing your fingers over the condom in a mimicking shape, you press it onto the tip of Stiles’ dick, instantly cataloging the way it’s just barely flushed the same color of his lips with a bead of nearly translucent pre cum drooling off to the side. 

The pre smears over his skin as you glide the condom down, allowing yourself to feel the warmth of Stiles’ dick in your hand as you go down. You don’t see it, not when your eyes are staring intently at the cock in front of you, but Stiles’ eyes have fluttered closed above you. His lips have parted, his nostrils flaring just a bit with the exhale he lets out. He’s getting off to you putting a condom on him, and you only catch the tail end of it when you throw a curious glance up at him once the condom is seated completely over him. 

“Good?” 

He nods, opening his eyes to stare down at you. “Fucking great.”

You lay back, spread your legs, and let Stiles back in. 

He hovers, asks you if you’re okay, and as soon as you nod, he presses the tip of his cock against your entrance. 

When your friends ask you about it later, when they press you for details and inevitably come to the question that everyone wonders about, you’ll tell them that it hurt. Because it did. More uncomfortable than anything, a feeling that you had to breathe through. Luckily, Stiles was there coaching you through it. 

Demonstrating breaths that he repeated with you, gently nodding even when his face screwed up. You could see the way he was holding himself back, the veins in his arms prominent as he held your hip with one hand, the other pressed into the pillow beneath your head. 

“Keep going?” he eventually asked you. Excitement clearly flooded his eyes when you nodded. 

He gave you slow thrusts, deep and meticulous as if he were terrified of hurting you, and he was. He kept glancing from the sight of where the two of you were connected up to your eyes, watching attentively for any sign that you wanted to stop. 

But it never came. After the initial discomfort, you hooked a leg over Stiles’ back. It’s like a switch flipped, telling you that you needed as much Stiles as you could get. He was in you, yes, and he had his hands over your body, but it wasn’t enough. 

Stiles could give you his all and it still would never be too much. 

“More?” 

You nodded. “More, please.”

Stiles was eager to obey your request. He didn’t give it his all, you could still feel the restraint in each of his thrusts, but he gave you more. He drove into you with a little more power, holding his punches towards the end. The drag-out happened faster, as did the slide-in. 

It was a steady pace, rhythmic enough to provide stimulation. You won’t cum from just this, it’s obvious to you, but this is good. It puts a tickle in your lower belly. One that flutters around your insides, twisting them every so often. 

You feel so good, euphoric, even. At this moment, you understand the claims of post-sex glow. How could you not glow after this? It’s like Stiles is a fucking natural. There are a few moments where he’s a little off, but he picks up where he left off. He seems confident, and undoubting of his abilities, and it only makes everything better. 

Stiles groans and you’re brought back. You stare up at him, taking in as much as you can. The freckles and moles dotting his face and shoulders, the slight sunburn he has over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, how his hair falls over his forehead, a few strands sticking to his pale skin. 

He’s so pretty. You don’t know how you ever thought you would have gotten over him. After this, you don’t think you ever will get over him. 

He leans down and knocks his forehead against yours. 

“You feel so good,” he admits. He sounds so honest and it turns you on. 

You curl your fingers in Stiles’ hair, pulling only a bit, but the reaction is still there. The sound he makes resembles a whine. It’s addicting. You want to hear it again. 

So you pull Stiles further down and suck on his jaw, combining it with another gentle pull of his hair. He doesn’t make the same sound, not immediately. At first, he moans, clean and simple, and then your cunt flutters around him and he whines again. 

It’s such a pretty sound. 

He starts to fuck into you messily, lacking any of the precision from before. His thrusts become more shallow, and you watch his features relax. 

“Are you close, Stiles?” you ask him, although you think you know the answer. 

He nods. “Yes. Yeah, ‘m so fucking close.” 

He takes his hand off of your thigh and searches. You don’t realize what for until he finds your hand. More fumbling and then your fingers are interlocked. Stiles presses your hand back into the pillow, the secure weight of his own hand keeping it there, and then he presses his lips to yours. 

He kisses you for a second, and you’re able to reciprocate for the sole moment. But you’re close, too. You can barely reciprocate when you’re as focused on your own orgasm, everything else pressed to the back of your mind. 

You use your free hand to tweak your clit, speeding your pace up when you realize that Stiles is just a few thrusts short of cumming. 

When he does cum—shooting into the condom with a final thrust, his forehead resting on your sternum as his grip on your hand tightens—you’re not far behind. Stiles weakly thrusts into you a few times and it’s during the second one that your muscles seize, an orgasm unlike anything else you’ve ever felt taking over your body, your middle finger absentmindedly rubbing against your clit as you let the orgasm wash over you. 

It takes a minute for both of you to come down. Stiles stays hovered over your body, his forearm keeping him up as he relaxes the lower half of his body onto yours. A couple of minutes pass before he even makes an attempt to move, and even when he does, he keeps your hands interlocked. 

He speaks first. “Please tell me that was as good for you as it was for me.”

You nod, unable to do anything other than blink up at the ceiling for a second. Eventually, you tell him, “Yeah.”

It’s not much, which Stiles is quick to comment on. “Are you sure? You don’t sound sure.”

“‘m just a little out of it right now, Stiles.” When you turn your head to look at him, he’s smiling like he’s proud of himself. You scoff, weakly kicking his shin. “Don’t be a dick about it.”

“Sorry. I’m just definitely gonna be thinking about this for a while.”

[jjkamochoso]

Matchmaking Mina

Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Your kind-hearted captain has taken it upon herself to stoke the flames of love between you and Soshiro!

Warnings: none

Captain Mina Ashiro may act aloof, but she wasn’t blind. Anyone in the Third Division could see that you and Soshiro were the perfect match for each other. If neither of you were going to make the first move, it was only right that she, as your trusted leader, guided you in the right direction. Only, of course, after assessing the situation to make sure you two really did like one another.

*Click*

Her phone captured a snapshot of you at lunch one day, laughing at something Kafka had said. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were creased with joy—you looked positively radiant. Mina made her way to Soshiro’s office, eager to begin her investigation.

“Captain,” Soshiro saluted, “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

“Just stopping by. Checking on the status of your report from last week.”

“It’s almost done. I’ve been hard at work,” Soshiro grinned, sticking his pointer fingers out.

He’s in a pleasant mood. Let’s see if that changes.

“Good. I also came to show you a new picture of Bakko from the other day.”

It was a plausible excuse; Soshiro was a fan of cats as well and Mina was known for subjecting her friends and subordinates to monologues about how cute Bakko was. The vice captain was now standing by her side, peering over her shoulder at the phone in her hand.

“Here it is—oops! Wrong picture.”

Your picture was the one currently being displayed and from her peripheral vision, she saw Soshiro gulp ever so slightly, his eyes opened a bit wider. She was in no hurry, taking her time to slide her finger over the screen to the “correct” photo.

“Sorry about that. It was a cute photo, though, wasn’t it? Didn’t y/n look nice?”

“Huh? Yeah. I mean, sure,” he mumbled, the tips of his ears a rosy hue.

Now for the real test.

“I’d never seen her laugh so hard, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re around Kafka, right?”

There was an immediate shift of mood in the room, tension filling the open space like a dam had burst. Soshiro had gone from blushing to bloodthirsty in a millisecond and Mina was thankful she’d been blessed with a poker face or else she’d be bursting in laughter at his very apparent jealousy.

“If you’ll excuse me, Captain, I should finish this report.”

Soshiro saluted her again before sitting at his desk and Mina took her leave.

Well, that was informative.

Now she knew that Soshiro definitely harbored a crush for you and a hatred for Hibino. As she walked down the empty hallway, she let a small smile grace her lips.

She loved love.

Mina did the exact same experiment to you a few days later. As a fellow cat enthusiast, you were very excited at the prospect of seeing new Bakko content, quickly taking a seat next to your captain. This time around, she had managed to take an extremely flattering picture of Soshiro during training. He was standing outside, slightly flushed from the previous physical exertion, with one hand on his hip and the other pushing his hair out of his face.

Maybe if I ever retire I’ll become a photographer.

“…and there’s Bakko-oops. Not this.”

Your mouth was partially agape and she spied how you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the man on the screen. His tight fitting shirt hugged every curve of every muscle. His physique and pose were reminiscent of a model you’d see on a billboard in downtown Tokyo or on a runway in Paris.

“T-that’s a great picture you got of Vice Captain,” you breathed out in awe. “He looks so… hot.”

“If you’re into that sort of look, sure,” she answered.

“I definitely am,” you said dreamily, clearing your throat with embarrassment when you realized you said that out loud. “I mean, yeah. If someone was… hypothetically, like… into that sort of… thing.”

Mission 100% accomplished; they’re very much into each other.

Next up was the hard part of figuring out how to get confessions from the two of you without meddling too much. That’s why she was hoping today’s training, with you being partnered with Kafka, would be enough to stir up those same feelings and visceral reactions you both had while looking at the photos of each other not that long ago. So far, it was working splendidly. Kafka would say or do something ridiculous, causing you to howl with laughter and Soshiro to shoot Kafka a burning glare that could rival the intensity of a wildfire. Meanwhile, Soshiro would take his frustration out on the sparring training dummies, in turn leaving you dumbstruck at the way he moved so majestically and remained the most handsome man on earth, even in a state of sweaty exhaustion. When training was finally over, Mina couldn’t slow the buildup of anticipation deep inside her, eager to see the lovebirds admit their feelings, or at the very least, converse with each other. Neither of those things happened; you and Soshiro didn’t even exchange eye contact before going your separate ways.

Mina frowned. Didn’t she plant the seeds of attraction, water the foundations of a relationship, nurture the-

Looking back, I guess I didn’t do all that much.

“L/n.”

You turned around immediately at the sound of your captain’s voice, saluting as the dark haired woman approached you. You had just finished showering after a grueling day of exercise and were on your way to your room to get some much needed rest

“Come with me, please.”

“Right now?” you asked incredulously, eyes raking over the cat pajamas you were sporting. “Should I change into my uniform really quick?”

“No need,” she replied, “it’ll only be a moment:”

“Alright then.”

You were thoroughly confused but who were you to question your captain? You followed behind her dutifully, like a child following their mother to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk after a nightmare. Your eyebrows knit in confusion as she brought you into Soshiro’s office. He, too, had just showered, but he had changed into a fresh tracksuit, presumably because he never stopped working.

“Captain! What can I do for… you?” Soshiro faltered when he saw you peek out from behind Mina.

“I’m horribly underdressed for whatever’s happening. I sincerely apologize,” you said, bowing your head as to not meet his eyes. You weren’t that far below Soshiro’s rank, being a Platoon Leader, but you didn’t want your superior seeing you in such a state of disarray with your wet hair and casual attire in the office. Soshiro, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Y/n! I didn’t see you back there at first. I like your pajamas, cats are always a good choice.” His fanged smile brought you a sense of comfort,

“Thank you.”

You two would’ve gotten lost in each other’s eyes if it weren’t for Mina reminding you she was still there.

“Let me explain what’s going on. Y/n, Soshiro likes you. Soshiro, y/n likes you.”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop from across the base. You and Soshiro broke eye contact at breakneck speed, becoming self conscious and wary.

Mina was confused. Weird. Aren’t they supposed to kiss or something, like how it happens in books?

“I’ll leave you to it. Good night.”

Mina practically ran out of Soshiro’s office, getting hit with a whole slew of mixed emotions as she made her way to her own office. Was she wrong for getting involved in her subordinates’ love lives? Did she somehow misread the signals you both were giving off? Was her conclusion incorrect, leading her to be labeled a fool, unfit for a leadership position? She fretted all night thinking about the lack of response you and Soshiro had about the great news. The next morning, as she got ready, she thought of all the ways she could explain her behavior and hoped this situation wouldn’t lead to her getting fired (worst case scenario) or you and Soshiro feeling awkward around each other (bad case scenario). You two worked extremely well together, neutralizing kaiju with just glances and nods, no words needed, and she’d never forgive herself for ruining such a good team.

Mina fiddled with her jacket one last time before lifting her chin up and making the trek to her office to start the day. To her surprise, the door was ajar, you and Soshiro apparently waiting for her arrival.

Goodbye Third Division, hello HR…

“Captain,” you began, “Soshiro and I really appreciate what you were trying to do for us, but-”

“I overstepped my boundary,” she cut in. “I’m ashamed that I let my self control slip and I put my subordinates, the people in my care, in an uncomfortable position. I don’t know if I can ever regain your trust again, but I swear that I-”

“Captain.”

This time it was Soshiro who spoke out of turn. “My deepest apologies for interrupting you, but you don’t need to be sorry. Your intuition was correct—y/n and I do like each other.”

Mins could’ve cried tears of happiness hearing that, especially knowing that her job wasn’t at stake anymore, but her joy was turned to confusion when she noticed you and Soshiro share a glance, making a wordless agreement, and then both reaching into your shirts…?

She watched with curious eyes as a chain entered your grasp, previously hidden from view under your shirt, a small ring hanging down from it. Soshiro did the same, a matching ring gleaming under the fluorescent lights. It was then that the inquisitive, intelligent, intuitive captain made the connection—

“Soshiro and I are married,” you said, sheepishly glancing over at your husband. Now it was Mina’s turn to be deadly silent. However, you could tell she wasn’t upset, she was busy comprehending everything that was revealed to her.

“We didn’t tell anyone,” explained Soshiro, “because we didn’t want it to become an issue at work. In retrospect, we could’ve hidden it a bit better.”

He scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. “Though Kafka doesn’t ever seem to get the hint.”

“But we know we can trust you with our lives and we should’ve at least told you. I’m sorry for lying to you, Captain Ashiro,” you said, your head hanging low.

That’s when you heard the strangest sound.

Captain Mina Ashiro… was laughing?

“This was an interesting turn of events,” she eventually said, catching her breath. “It turns out I was correct, but not in the way I thought.”

She strutted over to her desk, sitting down and starting the computer. “If that’s all you had to report, then you’re dismissed. It’s time to go to work.”

She looked up one last time, quirking an eyebrow. “Or are you on your honeymoon?”

[dcxdpdabbles]

been thinking bout Jason’s doll like Jason won’t let any of the Batfam live down the fact that he was right when Danny reforms however none of them are going to let go of the fact that Danny being half dead did in fact make the doll haunted

It's alarming how obviously haunted Jason's doll is. Now that he had introduced him to the rest of the family, Jason seemed to go nowhere without Danny.

He was there, sitting on Jason's lap at meal times, leaning against the pillows whenever they sat down in the movie room, and wearing his own little goggles when Jason went for a ride on his bike. Danny was there whenever Jason was heading off to bed, curling around the porcelain toy like a child.

Hell, Tim is pretty sure he saw Jason walk out of the bathroom after a shower with Danny tucked under his arm once.

He understands Bruce's worry about how attached Jason seems to be to Danny. The only time he ever left Danny behind was to run around as Red Hood, but even then he insisted that Danny have his own communicator.

It had looked rather silly on the doll- Dick had to duck tap it to Danny's head since there was no ear to push into- but that did not stop Jason from consistently narrating what he was doing and speaking to Danny.

Tim had just been thinking of turning off his communicator when a series of whispers bursted to life in his ear. He had nearly missed a step when jumping to the next roof, heart pounding in his chest as a instantal fear dug into his core.

A second later, he could wrangle the fear into something manageable, thanks to his training. He hears his various siblings doing the same through the coms as Jason laughs "You said it, Doll."

"That was Doll!?" Steph exclaims in Tim's ear. There is a tremble in her voice that he relates to.

"Yeah, isn't he hilarious?" Jason responds with a chuckle. Then, another series of fast-past whispers—sounding like more than one person—is heard, and Jason roars with laughter.

Tim shivers, reaching up to switch off his com. At once, Babs remotely turns it back on. "Saftey protocols state these stay on due to Two-Face's escape."

Rats.

Tim tries his best to finish the rest of his patrol, only occasionally jumping at Danny's random burst of whispers. He stops two carjackers and a mugging and finds some clues as to where Harvey may have hidden.

It's a long night despite the slow crime, or maybe it's due to the lack of sleep catching up to him, but when Tim returns to manor he is half dead on his feet.

He barely has the mind to write up his report for the night and stumbles upstairs, peeling his costume off as he goes. Just as he can spot the doorway of his old room, Tim can feel his eyelids sliding close.

There is only a silver of sight now because he forces them to not close completely through sheer will power

He fumbles for the handle of the door leaning heavily against the wood, when he realizes he's not entirely alone in the hallway. He glances in the direction in what he assumed was Dick- as his brother's old room is also on down this hall- and is shock when he makes eye contact with someone he does not know.

It's a handsome boy. One that he's seen very clearly in a photo.

Freezing, Tim dares not to even breathe as Danny tilts his head and carefully floats over to him. There is a semi-see-through effect going on with his body, but it does not draw away to Danny's concern experssion.

Tim's heart is beating a mile a minute. Crude, had he taken in fear gas at some point?

Danny pauses, inches from his face, staring intently. Tim can barely breathe, so scared his arms and legs feel like lead. Ice runs through his viens and Tim has half the mind to think This is it. This is how I die. before Danny reachs out and touches him.

More specficelly he picks Tim up like a bag of grapes and throws open the door. The ghost carries his horrified form to the bed, tucking him gently before petting his hair.

"Good..night..sleep..tight…love…you...Tim. Sleep...well.," Danny whispers, the words just barely audible with the strange overwhelming mutters of unknown voices. The ghost turns around and flouts right through Tim's door. A few seconds later, it, slightly becomes ajar due to a doll leaning on it.

Its unblinking eyes stare deep into Tim's soul. He whimpers and clings to the blanket hard.

Tim isn't sure, but he gets the sense Danny is laughing at him.