#sorry for making this post over and over again it smacks me into a wall for fun whenever im not looking

[nerice]

i so badly need to improve im SICK with the need to improve

[shuusocks]

Kinktober 2024: Sakamaki ver. <3

Shu Sakamaki, Reiji Sakamaki, Ayato Sakamaki, Kanato Sakamaki, Laito Sakamaki, Subaru Sakamaki x f!reader

(I know this post is a little late, sue me).

Content warning: 18+ themes, explicit mentions of sexual activity 🤺

Shu Sakamaki:

Size kink, slow sex, teasing, cockwarming.

➤ "01:14 am

The clock, placed on your bedside table, reads the time. But time is just a mere illusion to you and Shu right now.

You gasp as you feel his thick girth enter you slowly, inch by inch. Shu’s larger frame hovering over you. Small, breathy whines escape your throat due to the burning, stretching sensation of your cunt.

“Shuu- arghh~” You moan, tilting your head back and clinging onto his broad shoulders. His muscles tensing up from the pleasure. You feel yourself clench at the overwhelming feeling of being so full of him. Shu’s breathing audibly shudders. 

“Don’t do that, sweetheart” His voice is deep and raspy, whispering directly into your ear as he starts to slowly pull out and then push himself all the way back in. 

Your eyes roll back as you let out a moan and dig your nails into his back.

“Y-you’re too de..eeeep” You manage to whimper out, feeling him reach the deepest parts of you. 

His large hands sneak around your waist and under the shirt you were wearing. Slowly going up your body, making sure to explore every inch of you. His lips instinctively find your neck and leave a trail of wet, sloppy kisses. You were sure some of them left bruises. 

He lets out a husky laugh and halts his movements completely, leaving himself inserted all the way into you. You could practically feel him in your stomach.

“Don’t tell me you can’t take it?” Shu whispers, his hot breath lingering on your sore neck.

One of his hands goes down onto your stomach as he gently presses your abdomen. You let out a high pitched whine as you feel all the juices, mixed inside of you, leak through the gaps and down onto the sheets."

Reiji Sakamaki:

Brat taming, orgasm denial, edging.

➤ "The always empty and silent hallways of the Sakamaki manor, tonight, echoed with fast and vicious slapping noises, coming from Reiji's lab.

You were bent over on the desk. Your legs spread, hands tied over your head.

“I’ll be a- a goo~aghh~ood girl I swear” You barely manage to choke out due to Reiji’s deep and rough pounding from behind. His fist full of your hair, forcibly tilting your head back, the other hand holding your hip tightly, leaving dark marks. 

“A little too late for that don’t you think?” He menacingly whispers into your ear, his jaw tightly clenched as you feel a sharp sting on your ass.

You hate to admit but the spank pushed you over the edge, even if it was supposed to be a punishment. 

You tighten around Reiji’s length, signaling you're about to reach your climax. The small action makes him inhale sharply and land another smack on your butt, stopping his movements completely, still driven deep inside you.

“Disobeying, acting out AND cumming without my permission?” His tone is demanding yet with a hint of mockery. 

You whine at the broken orgasm. All the pleasure suddenly leaves your body and only the stinging sensation on your ass remains.

“P-please- I-I’m sorry” Is all you can whimper out, your head still forcibly tilted back and the drool running down your neck, before Reiji suddenly pulls out and slams back into you again mercilessly. You feel your juices running down your thighs as you’re trying to hold on to your remaining senses.

“Did the cat get your tongue?” Reiji asks his breathing unsteady as he feels you coming closer to another climax. He sneers, knowing he won’t let you get off the hook that easily. After all, the night has just begun."

Ayato Sakamaki:

Overstimulation, squirting, degradation.

➤ "Tears were running down your reddened cheeks as your fourth orgasm hit you like a wave. Your head hit the wall as your knees buckled, threatening to give out underneath you.  

You were pressed against the wall, Ayato holding one of your legs up for better access, as he was fucking into you. His other hand groping your breasts, occasionally pinching your hardened bud.

“Ngh~ You’re being such a slut for me” He whispers directly into your ear. Ayato suddenly increases his pace, feeling you clench around him. 

“A-Ayato I-” You gasp at the increased speed of his thrust, quickly wrapping your hands around his neck, stabilizing yourself and pulling him closer to you at the same time. You pray not to pass out or have your body collapse due to the overwhelming pleasure.

You feel another climax quickly approaching you but this time it feels a little different. 

“I feel w-weird Ayaaa-ato” You manage to form a somewhat coherent sentence. Ayato almost instantly catches on what's happening and what sensation you are feeling.

“Is that so?” He coos, his hot breath lingering on your skin as his hand slowly travels down your body, landing directly on your swollen clit.

“Let’s see how much of a whore you really can be.” Before you know it, Ayato starts to rub your bud vigorously, almost instantly bringing you to yet another orgasm. 

However, this time as you came, liquid squirted out of you, drenching your and Ayato’s abdomens. Your eyes roll back as your legs finally give out on you and you almost fall to the ground.

Ayato quickly catches you, his breathing heavy and unstable.

“You were so eager to cum earlier and now you can’t handle it?”"

Kanato Sakamaki:

Pegging, f!reader dom.

➤ "You stood on your knees in front of Kanato who was on all fours, his back turned to you. One of your hands was running up and down his naked back, while the other one was lubing up the silicone strap on.

You lean down, pressing your chest on his back as you reach his ears.

“Are you ready?” You whisper, the toy prodding at his hole. Kanato lets out a barely audible swear as his breathing intensifies and he nods his head.

You just smirk, accidentally letting out a small giggle before slowly pushing in the dildo and bottoming out after a few seconds.

Kanato gasps as his fists clench. You let him adjust for a few moments, gently rubbing his back, his neck, reaching his hair and lightly tugging on it.

“Move…” He manages to mutter through his tightly gritted teeth. 

“What was that?” 

“...Please”

“Good boy” You slowly begin to move as you see all his muscles tensing up with each thrust. As your pace increases slightly, one of your hands travels from his waist to his neck, pulling his body up so he’s left standing on his knees while the other one grips his shaft, lightly stroking it, causing pleasure from both sides.

Kanato gasps as his body shudders and his breathing gets uneven. 

“D-Don’t stop please-” He stutters out as his head cranks back and his cock twitches in your hand, signaling he’s near the edge.

Your lips find his neck as you leave a trail of small kisses along the side, going up to his nape.

“Hm? Close already? And here I thought you’d hold out for much longer.” Your teasing tone, your hot lingering breath on his neck made him lose his composure almost instantly."

Laito Sakamaki:

Riding, body worship.

➤ "“Ahhh~ Just like that, don’t stop, bitch chan” Laito's head is tilted back, his adam's apple bobbing slightly as he tries to catch his breath.

You’re on top of him, taking his length in, like the good girl that you are. Your hands are tightly gripping his shoulders, trying to keep your movements steady and deep. 

His hands move from your hips, up to your waist, finally reaching your breasts after a few moments.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re like this” He whispers as he looks back at you again and plays with your bouncing tits, taking one of the hardened buds in his mouth and lightly tugging on it.

Your movements falter at the pleasure as Laito helps you move again, his hands falling back down to your hips as he rocks you back and forth on his length.

You wrap your hands around his neck and bring his face closer. Laito’s lips travel down to your jaw, then to your neck leaving a trail of kisses and bite marks along the way.

The wet slapping sound echoes in the room. Laito’s hands wrap all the way around you as he brings you even closer to his body. His fingers start gently grazing your back just when his lips finally detach from your neck.

“You’re doing so so good for me, baby. Let me show you just how much I love you.” Laito’s lips capture yours as his movements increase. He swallows your shaky, soft moans, letting his tongue explore every inch of your mouth. 

You feel your thighs burn, but your senses are so enveloped in pleasure, that all you can do is chase your approaching climax."

Subaru Sakamaki:

Hate, jealous sex (consensual), possessive markings.

➤ "You absolutely love when Subaru gets jealous. When all the possessiveness, all the anger comes out and he takes it out on you.

You were laid down on your back as Subaru was mercilessly pounding into you, positioned in between your legs. With each thrust driving his length up deeper and deeper inside of you.

With your tongue out, all you could do is moan and drool like a bitch in heat. His hands left dark marks around your waist and your hips from how tightly he’s holding onto you. 

The state of your neck was like nothing you’ve ever seen before. All marked up and bruised with bites, hickeys, scratches. 

“Are these enough for others to see that you’re mine?” Subaru gritted through his clenched jaw, right into your ear as one of his hands found its way to your neck. Without stopping his thrusting, Subaru wrapped his palm almost all the way around your neck and squeezed. Not too tight but only to make sure you understood who you belonged to.

From having your senses sharpened due to the lack of oxygen, all you could do is nod. The pleasure of his cock hitting your sweet spot, making you see stars and unable to focus on his words, made Subaru more frustrated. 

“Answer” He almost growled, stopping his movements completely.

You whine out at the sudden lack of pleasure as you manage to choke out a few words, hoping you’ll satisfy Subaru.

“Y-Yee-es. I’m yours…please.” The pathetic little whimper made him start thrusting again this time a little slower but still ramming himself deep inside of you.

“That’s right” He says breathlessly. Speeding up his movements once more and dragging the hand that was on your neck to your collarbones.

“You’re mine.”"

[leonsgfpost]

note: Hi! this is my third official post, crazy stuff. Thanks so much for all the support, I didn't think my trash was any good 😭 Btw, I hope you enjoy this too. English isn't my first language, so sorry if there's a mistake. 💕

tags: smut, comfort, insecurities, Leon is so cute, Leon x fem! reader, doggy style, orgasms and more!

Leon loves you madly. He really does. So every time you ask that question, "Do you love me?" he answers honestly, just because he can't tear his heart out and give it to you.

This man is capable of lowering the moon if you ask him to, he would do anything for you. He is honest, he doesn't lie. He wakes you up with soft kisses, on his days off he hugs you as if you were the only thing that keeps him grounded. You are everything to him.

And it's not that you doubt him, but different situations in your past led you to be insecure, to a sour whirlpool forming inside you about it. About him. Even now, when he's balls-deep inside you.

"Leon, Leon-" You murmured between ragged gasps, feeling his chest pressing hard against your back holding you in place. Taking every thrust he gave you. "Do you love me-?" And that feeling inside you came again. You felt like crying. Maybe from the pleasure, or maybe from the overwhelming sensations.

For a moment you think he doesn't hear you because of his current state. Heavy breathing, eyes tightly closed, body sweaty and his mind blank every time he sinks down to touch that spongy spot inside you.

But he wouldn't miss a hair of yours.

"I love you, I do, dear.... More than anything." He affirmed again, because he would repeat it to you every time you want. And the question sounds unreal in his fucked up head, of course he loves you. You're the only person he can open up to, show that young man who died inside him in 1998. He even took the audacity to have hopes, dreams again. Because next to you nothing seemed impossible.

"I love you, I love you." He murmured in your ear along with the low moans he couldn't contain, not when your walls were sucking him in so good. And I'd be lying if I said not now he's the one who wants to cry. He'd kiss every part of your body, kiss you all over until he could make you forget everything. Just like he does when he's with you.

His hips try to keep his deep rhythm, while his arms search for a way to embrace you to keep him grounded. Your ass is smacked by his pelvis every time he plunges in, over and over again with ambition. The wet sound of your wet pussy is the complete opposite of the cute words coming from Leon's lips.

"You're the only one for me, you're everything to me...Oh, G-God-" Now he started to ramble, trying to get his whole cock inside you until he can fuck your brains out and make you forget.

"Fuck, I love you, baby-!" His voice was already shaking, but I didn't know if it was from the effort of pushing you or the effort not to cry over you like a fucking baby.

"C-Come on, say you love me too." His voice tried to sound demanding, but it sounded like a plea. A desperate plea to know that you loved him too, because he wanted to be loved. He needed it.

"I love you, Leon. I-I love you, I love you so much." You said obediently, your voice coming out choked from having your face buried in the sheets. Your hair was disheveled, little beads of sweat trickling down your back and trembling thighs trying to support your weight. And little tears began to fill the corners of your eyes.

Maybe he had already fucked your brains out.

And Leon's chest tightened, pushing his lips carelessly into your hot cheeks. He was always so sweet even when he was fucking you like you were a slut. His cock bullying your bruised pussy again and again, because he couldn't catch a break. You were the air he needed to feel alive.

You made him feel alive.

As alive as he was now, as his hips began to quiver and his thrusts became sloppy, feeling his cock contracting tightly inside your walls. He could lose his mind right now for you.

His fingers moved down to play with your painfully throbbing clit, you let out a high pitched moan and your walls tightened feeling the familiar euphoria explode inside you, your orgasm coming in a sloppy way. Your body immediately relaxed into the sheets, trying to recover, but Leon wouldn't slow down, not when he was so close too.

He released your clit to run a sticky hand up to one of your tits, kneading it as if it were his own anti-stress toy. He carelessly kissed your wet cheeks and his hips pushed all the way in, releasing all his seed inside you. His cock contracted and discounted with spasms, giving you all of him.

"I love you." He whispered weakly, hugging you and trying not to fall on top of you. His heart beating fast in his chest, beating for you.

Because Leon Scott Kennedy loves you more than anyone. And he would devote every day of the rest of his life to prove it to you, if you let him.

were there too many "I love you"s? haha, sorry! But I can't help but think that Leon really needs a lot of love.

Let me know if u liked this, thanks!! 🎀💗

bye, bye (💌)

[str4ngr]

comforter [ megumi fushiguro ]

cw: fluff, crack, ity-bity-wity bit suggestive but it goes no where, foul language, no spoilers, established relationship, fem!reader. i lub him. this probably makes no sense.... not proofread!!

"You're being stupid."

Megumi huffed, pulling the flesh of your cheek with one hand, the other scrolling through his phone. Barely paying attention to each colourful post that flashed across his screen with each swipe of his finger, his eyes lingered on the way you jutted your lips out and squirmed. He watched as you followed his pulling hand, groaning and sighing like a whiny puppy,

"Megumi, it's not stupid! I need a new comforter!"

Scowling, you pull his cheek back, pushing yourself up onto one elbow to lean over him. He glared at you as you did, scoffing with a half smile. He let out a breath through his nose, rolling his eyes melodramatically,

"What? Because I said I don't like it?"

"Duh! How can I sleep with you if you don't like my new comforter?"

Eyes blown wide, you both stare at each other, one a face of pleading, the other of dread; innocent and not so much.

"....What."

"What?"

Megumi gawked at you, eye twitching as he squinted at you. His porcelain skin flushed with the softest shade of pink, eyes darting away while he gently rubbed you arm,

"Say it again in your head."

1... 2... 3...

"Oh." ding, ding, ding!

He tries to keep himself contained, his phone drooping in his hand as he watches you suck your lips into a strict line. Your cheeks flushed, his thumb that once pinched now grazed your warm skin. Maybe you guys were dating, but maybe not for long enough for this to be anything but funny. And it was 2 a.m.. And Kugisaki was your neighbor.

And, hey, you didn't mean it like that it just came out wrong... maybe. I mean, look at him. Brows furrowing, eyes focused in concentration to the elegant sweep of his eyelashes as you huff, trying to keep your voice from wavering as you spit,

"Don't make fun of me for saying a sentence that sounds like 'I wanna fuck' but in 15th century of Europe, Megumi, or I'm gonna send you there. And show you my ankles."

Silence settles again, your bodies shaking together as they try to stay quiet. With shaking breath, you mutter,

"Nobara's gonna kill us."

Loud, uncontained laughter erupted between you too, gasping through each exhausting chortle as Megumi tried to stay quiet, hiding his mouth behind his hand as you hid in his shoulder. He dropped his phone, slender hand tangling in your hair as he covers his eyes,

"SHUT UP!"

Since it's not conscious, laughter doesn't shut up, only getting louder and more obscene as Nobara bangs her hand on the wall beside you. You glanced at Megumi, eyebrows wiggling as if saying, 'told you so.' He rolls his eyes again, as he always does when he can't stand your teasing.

"MEGUMI, MAKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND SHUT UP OR I—"

"Yeah, d'you hear that? Shut up, girlfriend."

You laugh, rolling you eyes,

"Sorry, Nobara! was getting 'Gumi to sleep with me!"

Crickets. And a smack across the head from Megumi, grinning as he laughed into you hair.

"You can't fucking say that. And I literally just showed you why." He grinned, his words not matching the way his hand twirled your hair or his soft eyes, "you're such an idiot."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

a/n: edited it bc i realized i kude a dumb dumb mistake. i need a boyfriend [megumi] so bad its genuinely getting out of hand. i kinda wanna write a full series on him... lmk if i should.

directory

[froggibus]

Graveyard Smash - Cole Cassidy

Pairing: Cole Cassidy x f! reader (fem pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: while investigating an abandoned asylum, you and Cass come into contact with slime that has a strange effect on you...

CW: ghost hunter! au, near-death experience, kinda horror elements to start (but those are the vibes teehee), sex pollen (but it's slime), dubcon, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cum stuffing

omg day one of kinktober! i meant to post this much much earlier but the wc got away from me and i took a four hour nap ;') hopefully tomorrows will be out earlier tho! i don't like this v much but i cannot spend anymore time tweaking it sorry

also def should’ve made todays movie ghostbusters but oh well

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

You shiver at the feeling of Cole’s fingers on your chest, fiddling with the gold buttons of your coveralls. The blue fabric scrunches in his calloused hands as he makes his way upwards, slipping the buttons through the loops with ease.

You glance at the looming abandoned asylum behind him, the old brick building creaking beneath the howling wind. “So, what’re we dealing with here?”

“Dunno,” he shrugs his broad shoulders, his matching coveralls bunching up at the motion. “They just said it was slimy, loud and real mean.”

“Great.”

He chuckles at the lack of your enthusiasm, finishing the last button and pulling away from you. You miss the warmth of his hands immediately, a chill running up your spine.

You hop down from the back of the van, slinging your backpack over your shoulders. “You packed the flashlights?”

His face goes pale. “What? I thought you did.”

Your mouth falls open. You drop your bag, squatting on the pavement to start rifling through it when you hear him chuckling above you. 

“Very funny.”

“Hey, just tryna lighten the mood.”

You go quiet again at that, once again sizing up the asylum before you. Being a paranormal investigator wasn’t for the faint of heart, and you’ve dealt with some creepy buildings over the years, but none were as eerie as the one waiting for you.

You swallow hard, adjusting the straps of your backpack. “So,” you gesture to the decaying steps outside, “shall we?”

“Ladies first.”

You scoff, but force yourself forward regardless. The rotting steps creak with every move you make, the concrete landing a distant paradise. You suck in a breath, glancing over your shoulder to see Cass hot on your heels.

Cass breaks down the barricaded door with just one kick, the wood splintering and falling to the floors with a bang. The sound echoes off the walls, spreading out through the massive building.

“Well, if it didn’t know we were coming before…”

You snort, pulling the flashlights out of your bag and passing one to him. For a second, you’re cast in darkness, the only light being from the full moon beaming from a nearby window. You smack your flashlight a few times and it slowly flickers to life, illuminating the crumbling grand staircase in front of you.

Cass raises his brows at the sight. “Guess we’re not going up.”

“You can say that again.”

You swing the beam of light from right to left, identical disgusting hallways on either side of you. Your flashlight falls on his chest, the golden buttons glowing like the sun. He raises his thick brows at you in question.

“Dealer's choice, cowboy.” You offer a weak grin, “do you want disgusting hallway number one, or two?”

He sighs, shaking his head at your antics, but turns to the right and starts shuffling off down the hall. You trail after him, staying only a few steps behind him. It’s eerily quiet inside, the only sounds being from your footsteps and the occasional whir of the EMF reader in his hand.

A broken security door lies ahead, torn caution tape beckoning you in. You frown, “so, what even happened here to make it such a hotspot?”

“Patient abuse, mad doctors, insane cover-ups. The usual for a place like this.” He’s gentle opening the door this time, the old wood creaking on its hinges. “Fuckin’ creepy.”

The hall ahead is even worse than the one you just trekked down. The floor is crumbling and broken in odd places, covered in stains that you really hope aren’t blood. Doors line either side of the hallway, looted carts of medical equipment staggered throughout. 

You’re only a few steps through the door when it slams harshly behind you, a terribly warm gust of air ghosting over the back of your neck. You flinch harshly, spinning around to face the few feet of empty space between you and the closed door. There’s nothing there.

“Any chance that means it likes us and wants us here?”

Cass only snickers.

“Yeah,” you grumble, adjusting your collar, “figured as much.”

Cass pushes open the first door and the EMF reader whines in response. You can just barely make out the reading on his screen—Level 4. That chill runs up your spine again. It’s gonna be a long night.

—

The basement of the asylum is somehow even creepier than the upstairs. It’s boiling hot and smells strangely of strawberries despite the rotting walls and floors.

You clench the ultraviolet flashlight tighter in your hand, sweeping it over the walls around you. Aside from the door closing, you’ve yet to see anything paranormal in the hours you’ve been here. 

Cass keeps close to your side, the two of you now relying on only his flashlight. The smell of his deodorant floods your nostrils, the scent so familiar and comforting it almost has you forgetting the creepy asylum around you. Almost. 

He wipes at the glistening skin on the back of his neck, muscles flexing at the motion. You glance away quickly, heat pooling in your stomach.

“Hotter than hell down here,” he grumbles.

You whimper in agreement, your own skin starting to take on a slight sheen. The smell only grows stronger as you dip into another hallway. You scrunch up the nose at the nauseatingly sweet smell.

Both of you freeze as the purple light of your flashlight grazes over a handprint on a nearby door. You turn to Cass with a frown, both of you knowing a handprint can only mean you’re getting closer. 

He braces his hand on the handle and takes a deep breath before shoving it open. You stagger in after him, eyes burning at how intense the scent is inside the room.

You turn to him, ready to ask if he’s picking up on anything, when his face goes pale. 

“Get down!” He shouts, tackling you to the concrete floor.

He manages to manoeuvre just enough to brace your fall, your back crashing against his chest. The air is knocked from both of your lungs from the impact.

You cough harshly, trying to roll away when his grip around you tightens.

“Don’t move.” He whispers.

You open your mouth to ask him why but freeze in your tracks at the pink tinged spectre only a few feet away from you. Its eyes are unfocused, its mouth moving without making any sound. Heat seems to follow its movements, growing closer and closer to where the two of you lay on the floor.

You force yourself to lie completely still, not even breathing while it skims across the floor. The smell around it is so strong your eyes start to water, hot tears leaking down your cheeks. It drifts farther into the room, towards the door on the opposite side.

Cass’s chest has also stilled behind you, his movements as frozen as yours. Both of you are stuck in shock as it reaches the door. You’re almost home free, it’s almost gone. 

And then the EMF reader crackles back to life—having landed a few feet away from you in the fall—and lets out a screeching tone that can only indicate an EMF 5 reading.

The spectre whips around, screeching back at the gadget, and speeds towards the two of you. Cass shoves you off, flipping onto his feet in an instant. He goes to dive for his bag, but he never makes it.

Before either of you can react, the spectre is unhinging its jaw and projectile vomiting glowing pink slime on the both of you. You gag, sliding around in the goo in an attempt to get away from it. Cass slips and lands on his ass next to you, raising his forearms to shield his face.

In the chaos, you somehow manage to reach into your bag, fingers grasping at the small metal trap. You squeeze it tightly, tugging the lever open before tossing it outwards.

The trap opens, landing at its feet and crackling with electricity. The two of you watch with blank stares as the ghost is sucked inside. 

“The switch!” Cass shouts at you through a mouthful of slime, “where’s the switch?”

And then you’re both digging through your bag, feverish skin rubbing against his as you desperately search for the small metal switch. Cass grabs it, holding it up triumphantly before slamming his hand on the button. 

“See you in hell, motherfucker.”

You laugh in relief when the trap slams shut behind it, a small puff of pink air sneaking through from the pressure. 

“What,” you breathe, “the actual fuck just happened.”

Cass laughs, rising to his feet and offering you a hand. He tugs you to your feet, the slime coating your sneakers making you slide into his chest. He catches you, hands lingering on your waist as he helps you get steady.

You swallow hard. Despite the slime coating both of you, the warmth of his chest and the proximity to him has you swallowing hard, a sudden heat between your legs.

You cough, turning away from him. “We should get out of here.”

He hums in agreement, collecting the trap off the ground and following you back into the hallway.

He keeps a step behind you the entire way out, his body frustratingly close. The heat coursing through you only gets worse the closer you get to the exit, even the cold night air leaking through the broken windows doing nothing to sate it. Your core throbs, horrible cramps wracking your stomach and thighs with every step.

You brace yourself on a nearby wall, trying to force some air into your lungs. Cass gently pats your shoulder and you moan. You clamp a hand over your mouth, both of you frozen in shock.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and the deep, raspy tone of his voice has your legs quivering. “You’re burning up.”

“Y—yeah,” you gasp out. “Just need to—to keep moving.”

He nods, squeezing your shoulder in reassurance before the two of you begin stumbling your way out of the asylum. You’re only a few feet away from the van before you double over, a nauseating wave of cramps and heat and need coursing through you.

Cass manages to catch you before you hit the ground, strong hands helping guide you to the pavement. He squats down in front of you, his slime coated suit clinging to his body in all the right places. You lick your lips.

Amber eyes follow the motion and you swear they darken at the sight of you. He trails a hand up and down your side, your cramps subsiding at the motion. “You alright?” He rasps.

You swallow hard, his voice sexy and husky and sending electricity surging through you. “Cramps,” you frown.

His hands trail up to the chest of your coveralls, fingers popping the first button open. “You’ll probably feel much better once we get these damned things off.”

You stay perfectly still, scared that if you move any closer to him you’ll do something you’ll regret. His fingers linger after each button, the breath leaving your body at each touch. Your eyes flutter shut, your whole body shaking beneath him.

You don’t even notice he’s done until his lips are hovering over your ear, hot breath ghosting the side of your neck. “Isn’t that much better?”

You moan in agreement, not even bothering to cover your arousal. You let the coveralls shrug over your shoulders, falling in a sopping pool on the ground. Cass helps you rise on shaking legs, guiding you to the back of the van.

You open the doors, letting yourself slump against the cool metal of the back bumper. Cass stands in front of you, fingers fumbling around on the buttons of his own suit.

You’re mesmerised by the sight, practically panting as the suit slides off of him and reveals his black compression shirt and blue jeans. Your eyes trail over him and you’re only barely aware of how he’s watching you take him in. 

Your eyes fix on the bulge in his pants, straining against the denim. You wet your lips at the sight.

“Like what you see?” He rasps.

Your eyes snap up to his, shock written on your face. You stumble over your words for a second, the sight of his flushed cheeks and dark eyes driving you wild.

“Cole—”

“I need you.”

And you’re left with no time to react before he’s pouncing on you, grabbing your face in his hands and slamming his lips against yours. You whine into his mouth, dragging your nails down his back.

He leans into you, hands slipping to cup your ass. Your legs wrap around his waist, drawing him closer as he lifts you further into the van. His teeth graze at your bottom lip and you gasp, letting his mouth swipe over the backs of your teeth.

He’s hot against your mouth, both of you overheating despite the cold night air. You can taste the strawberry remnants of the slime on his lips, overshadowed by the tang of cigars and spearmint. Rutting your hips against him, you whine into the kiss. 

He returns the motion, rolling his hips into yours. Despite the layers of clothes between you, he can feel the heat pooling between your legs. Sweat beads down your temples and you pull away from him gasping.

“I need you,” you echo.

His face is equally as hot as yours, cheeks red and glistening with sweat. His hair is stuck to his skin and tears brim the corners of his eyes. He looks utterly pathetic, melting into you with mutual desperation.

A whine of protest slips from your lips when he pulls away from you to unbutton his jeans, fingers flying so fast you can hardly keep track. Despite his speed, you can’t take it anymore, dipping your own hand between your legs to sate your cravings.

Your pants have completely soaked through, hot slick ruining the fabric. You rub at your clit, clenching your thighs around your wrist and rocking back and forth. His cock springs free but he makes no move to touch you, watching you fuck yourself with burning eyes.

“D–don’t just watch,” you gasp, “help me. Please.”

He rasps, “damn, that’s hot.”

And then he’s on you again, slotted perfectly between your legs while he presses his lips into yours. His hands fumble with your pants, managing to tug them down to your knees. He fixes a hand between your thighs, stroking at your soaking panties with a whine.

“So wet, fuck, god,” the thick head of his cock rubs against your panties. “T-tell me I can fuck you. Please.”

 He ruts against you through your panties, his cock rubbing against your clit with every thrust. The heat of his body pressing against yours, the scent of his deodorant and his breath on your body is all too much. You roll your head back, arching your back into him.

You barely manage to gasp out a string of slurred curses before you come undone, gushing on his cock through your panties. Cass watches with wide eyes, your slick making your panties almost see through. He rubs a thumb over your clit and you twitch beneath him.

“Please fuck me,” you murmur through pants. “I need it badly.”

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s ripping open your panties and slipping his cock inside of you. Your pussy greedily takes him in, walls stretching around his cock in a way that has both of you groaning. You reach for him, pulling his broad shoulders into you and dragging your nails along his sweaty skin.

He’s barely bottomed out before his cock is twitching inside of you, hot cum painting your walls. You clench tightly, your attempt to keep him from pulling out. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, cumming in a series of gasps and whines.

You keep your ankles locked around his hips until he’s finished, slowly rocking yourself against him through his orgasm. 

He pulls away, looking at you with those pathetic fucking eyes. “Need more,” he says, and its all he manages before he’s pulling out and fucking his cum back into you.

You gasp with every harsh thrust. Each snap of his hips has his cum sloshing inside of you, has his tip hitting the edge of your cervix and making you whine. He hangs his head low into your shoulder, babbling dirty things against your skin. 

He shifts a hand down to your knees, throwing your ankles over his shoulder so he can bend you in half and fuck you even deeper. You squeal when his cock is driven so deep inside that it almost hurts. He nips at the skin of his neck, the sharp bones of his hips hitting yours so roughly it’ll bruise.

It’s so hot that it’s dizzying, the stretch of his cock inside of you driving you near insanity. Your legs shake around his shoulders, your stomach cramping in anticipation of your next orgasm. You squeeze your eyes shut, digging your nails into your palms as it washes over you.

Your whole body shakes, pussy fluttering around him. He fucks you through it, his pace unrelenting as he chases his own high within your walls. You’re just barely coming to when he’s coming undone inside you once more, another gush of hot cum filling you up.

His hips stutter against yours as wave after wave fills you up. He gasps with each hot strand, his cock twitching inside of you. It’s nearly a minute before he’s done and you’re left so full it hurts.

He only takes a second to recover before he’s fucking into you again, chasing the heat within your walls. Both of you are soaked in sweat, gasping and whimpering and twitching with every motion—but neither of you care.

“M-move your legs.” He swallows, “need to be deeper.”

And then you’re folding your legs into your chest, pressed taut against your tits through your t-shirt. It only gives him better access to fuck you, his cock slamming deeper and deeper with every motion. He’s panting and struggling to catch his breath but his movements never falter.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, drawing him closer into you and planting kisses across his collar bone. His skin tastes like sweat and strawberries and you relish in it. Relish in him. 

Your pussy aches desperately, every inch of your skin feverish and wanting. Your head feels dizzy and you’re suddenly wondering how long you’ve been at this, but it feels so fucking good and he’s so fucking hot and all you want is to cum over and over and over again.

You let out a sob of pleasure as another orgasm tears through you, electricity crackling through your nerves. Your head goes fuzzy, the world around you fading away while wave after wave of pleasure wracks your body. All of your muscles seize, clenching and unclenching around his cock.

He cums with you, his thighs red and shaking from how hard he’s been fucking you. He lets himself drape over you, the weight of his body only adding to the dizzy fever threatening to take you.

The two of you lay there for a while longer, his cock still hard and your pussy still gushing. He twitches against you, and his small pants let you know that he still needs you just as bad as you need him.

You sob again, your poor pussy aching and abused and still clenching him like he’s the only thing you’ve ever needed. “Need more,” you whine, “can’t take more.”

He nods against you, sweaty hair tickling your sensitive skin. He slowly rolls your hips against yours and even that small motion has both of you cumming again, seizing against one another.

—

It’s hours before you’re fully coherent again. The sun has already started rising before Cass is able to move off of you, rolling onto the van floor next to you. 

The fever in your body has finally subsided but your strength is sapped from the dozens of orgasms you endured throughout the night.

In the afterglow of your orgasms, neither of you seem to notice or care about the pink, glowing puddle of fluids beneath you, or the rattling of the ghost trap in your backpack.

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

[dark-moonlust]

Heyyy so im so weak for bear hybrids and i just saw the one you posted, (LOVE IT btw), and i was wondering if you could do a sequal where reader decides to stay and lives a happy cozy life, with like cozy fires and all the bestest fur blankets and coziest bed and BIG FLUFFY BEAR MAN CUDDLES, but also like yk mad crazy sex where he likes to show off his strength and just like tosses her around, like up against walls, that thing where u like hold a girl on ur shoulders to eat her n stuff, if not thats ok i love all ur work sm 🙏🧎‍♀️🤍

Hello anon!!! Thank you for all the lovely words and the smutty idea!! I love bear hybrids, too. I'm sorry I took so long to complete. I have a lot of requests and I've been so busy lately. I'm trying to catch up on them slowly. Anyway, I hope this is to your liking!

Happy reading everyone!

Check out the first part of my bear hybrid oneshot here.

Cozy Life with your Bear Hybrid

Pairing: bear hybrid x fem reader Summary: you live a cozy life with your giant bear of a man. And you love it. Warnings: minors-ageless accounts don't interact, 18+, smut, size kink, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), huge 🍆, p in v sex, lots of 💦.

The wind screamed outside, rolling through the trees, yet it was only a whisper in the warmth of your cave. The fire crackled in the hearth and you were wrapped up in your mate's thick, muscled arms—the big bear of a beast who smelled like woodsmoke earthy perfume. He was warm and super cuddly, his big frame spooning you from behind.

Thick furs were heaped high on the bed their softness wrapping around you like a cocoon. Your bear hybrid always ensured you were warm and cozy, and took great pleasure in cuddling and loving you for hours on end. That night, he had a fond deep look in his eyes that spoke of his desire to keep you close and shield you from the outer world.

His mate. Forever.

Yes, you loved your life as his other half.

Shifting slightly, he moved, drawing you even closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his furred bear face scratchy but exquisite against your skin. His fingers, strong and calloused, trailed carefully down your belly, over your thighs, making sure his sharp nails were sheathed. Humming in satisfaction, you sunk deeper into him.

There was nowhere else you'd rather be, nothing else you'd rather do than spend every day surrounded by the warmth of your giant, soft bear, who was just as possessive and tender toward you.

"Hmmm, I could stay like this forever," he drawled in a low voice that vibrated through your chest. “But I’m also thinking about all the things I want to do to you.”

“Like?” you challenged, hands caressing his furry arm.

“Taste your sweet honey for one,” he murmured, his voice a low, dark rumble that sent goosebumps all over your skin.

“You just love to use this reference!”

He cocked a brow. “Why not?” His voice deepened. “Your cunt leaks the sweetest honey there is. I can vouch for that.”

“You are a horny bear beast.”

Chuckling, his hand moved down your thigh, fingers pressing just hard enough to cause you to open. “Hmm, and as the bear beast I am, I should taste again. Make sure your lovely cunny is as delicious as before. I love honey. Your honey.”

“You are insatiable.” Your face felt warm at the memory of him eating you out just hours ago. Your pussy had no issue whatsoever; it clenched and pooled with your juices.

Damn… You were both insatiable.

He grinned, that familiar, smoldering look blazing in his eyes. “Sleep, cuddle, eat you out, fuck. Then repeat. That’s our schedule. Now come, mate,” he playfully tapped your thighs. “Time to let me taste your pussy.”

His tone was straightforward. As if what you did every day was perfectly normal. You touched each other, rolled around in bed, kissed, made out (a lot), and couldn't keep your hands away from each other.

And you weren't a coward or an idiot to turn away from such joy.

In a playful mood, you smacked his hands playfully and scooted off the bed. You were in the mood to tease him. He growled and you hardly had time to move when he lifted you effortlessly, as if you were weightless in his massive arms, whisking you off the ground. You hugged him firmly and moaned as he hoisted you again, slamming you against the wall.

Strong hands maneuvered you so that your legs were draped over his shoulders, your pussy exposed and dripping in front of his eager mouth. You clutched his head and peered down at him, seeing the passion in his eyes as he licked up your mound, manipulating your folds with his long thick tongue. Your head tipped back, spine arching as he sucked you in, savoring your juices as if he were eating his favorite meal—which he was.

You were his favorite delicacy.

It went on and on, his tongue playing with your tender clit, circling the tender nub. You went wild, buried your fingers in his silky fur, and tugged violently as you shattered, your body coming alive with energy. He kept going, his big hands clutching your ass, his tongue thrusting inside to taste your honey. He growled primitively, his breaths vibrating over your clit.

He could go on for hours if you let him, feasting on your cunt and doing incredible tongue tricks just to see you lose yourself in pleasure.

“Pl—ease…ha~” you trembled, your voice strained from the toe-curling orgasm he’d given you.

With a husky moan, he gently flung you back into bed, onto that sea of fur covers, his large bulk crushing you with this delicious, heavy warmth and scent. You sighed with happiness and stretched your legs wider. He leaned over you, his cock thrusting up from between his broad thighs, already dripping seed.

His hands robed over your body, caressing your legs, belly and your breasts. You arched against him, whining when his leaky cock pressed against your entrance. He toyed with your nipples and leisurely rubbed his cock across your slit, his massive shaft appearing inhumanly large in comparison to your little human hole.

“Want my big bear to fuck me,” you whispered, fingers reaching down to open the outer lips of your pussy. “Pretty please?”

He whined and pushed the blunt cockhead a tiny bit inside. “How can I deny you, love?”

“Yessss,” you moaned, wiggling your waist. You were half-dazed with pleasure and you craved every inch of him inside you.

The spark in his eyes told you he was barely holding back. He was always so gentle despite his raw desire for you.

“Easy. Look at you,” he drawled, eyes on your pretty cunt, spread by his cockhead. “Every inch of you… mine, open and soft for me.”

“Come on, no more looking,” you warned. “Inside. Need you inside. All of you.”

A gentle roll of his hip, a little wiggling from you and he was inside, every inch of him buried in your depths. He was so deep you could feel him throbbing in your bellybutton, his balls crushed against your bum. You clutched his biceps, let out a gentle pants at the thick girth spreading your hole. You felt full, but not uncomfortably so. You’d learned to take him, to accommodate his hybrid cock.

“Good girl,” he drawled, his tongue plunging into your mouth.

Tongue down your throat, he fucked you, pounded into you in deep, unhurried thrusts. He kissed you as if he was starving, as if you were the only precious person he’d spent his entire life searching for. Which was entirely true. His hands cupped and kneaded your tits, his breath warm on your mouth.

Pleasure hit you again, and you sobbed mutely, your fingers tangling in his furred shoulders as he continued to claim you, his magnificent cock pumping in and out of your slick cunt. You heard his feral grunts and the squelching sounds of your bodies colliding. Two more thrusts and he exploded, loads of cum filling you up. He spurted for several minutes, your cunt overflowing with hot seed.

“Pretty, so damn pretty,” he roared. “Good mate, taking my cock and my seed. It drips so beautifully down your thighs.”

“Too much! It always is,“ you whined, feeling the final spurts of his release.

“Oh, that’s nothing.” His eyes had that dark hungry gleam, one that told you he wasn’t done with you. “Let’s see just how much more you can take, mate, ‘cause I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

Did you enjoy?! Like, comment or reblog! It would make me so happy!

[slutz4marsh]

Heyyy bbg can you make shower time headcannons of Kyle Broflovski? 💋

im gonna be so honest i did NOT know what this was asking so its a three parter

KYLE BROFLOVSKI X GN!READER: "IN THE SHOWER" (Fluff & Smut - HEADCANONS)

SOLO

Kyle is a germaphobe. He showers at minimum 3 times a day.

He has a million different products for hair care and skin. Half of the bottles in his shower are things you can’t pronounce.

His routine consists of shampoo → conditioner → wash body → rinse out conditioner. This is without even talking about the post-shower routine. (which consists of lotion and even more hair care products and a diffuser and extremely sore arms after the fact)

He’s very serious about things like cleanliness and personal grooming. Again, partly due to him being such a germaphobe.

Kinda unrelated but he will also keep his shower ABSURDLY clean. It’s not even part of his chores, he just does it.

TOGETHER (fluff)

To Kyle, shower time is a bit of a personal time. Because he’s so meticulous!!

Also, it’s sort of a time to destress and ignore the rest of the world. 

So when he lets you shower with him - it’s a testament to how much he loves and trusts you.

He’s very domestic. He massages your scalp as he washes your hair. He presses gentle kisses to your shoulders, collarbones, back - anywhere he can reach as he washes your body of all the grime and stress of the day.

He focuses all his energy on you. Taking care of you is almost a form of self care for him, in a way. It puts his mind at ease knowing that you’re well and taken care of.

SMUT

Of course. Showers tend to get a little sensual sometimes.

The water, the soap - it just makes his hands glide across your body so much easier… 

And he swears it’s an accident when his expert fingers glide over your nipples. The first time, you believe him.

Until his lips are attached to the back of your neck and his fingers flick your sensitive buds. He nips at your skin softly, gently rolling your nipples between slender fingers.

You can feel how hard he is, the evidence of his arousal pressing right against your thigh. 

One hand leaves your chest to dip between your thighs, teasingly rubbing back and forth. When he decides you’re plenty aroused, he pulls his hand away. Before you can even complain, he lightly smacks your hip.

“Put your hands against the wall, love.”

Of course you comply immediately.

He works his way inside of you, groaning the whole time. You’re leaning against the wall, panting as you get used to the feeling.

When you’re finally used to him enough for him to move, he goes crazy.

He has a hand in your hair, pulling it every few seconds. He has his other hand on your hip, guiding your movements back onto him.

Praise drops from his lips like it’s second nature. He tells you how good you are, how perfect you feel. How he’s sorry for this, he just had to feel you.

“You’re so fucking perfect- so, fucking- perfect, just for me, yeah?”

He’s panting, groaning, biting at your shoulders and neck.

By the time he cums, it’s hard and a lot all at once. You spasm around him and he frantically ruts into you, moaning against your skin.

He pulls out and his release drips down your legs.

You groan and his only response is cheesy and dumb and it makes you giggle, so he considers it a job well done.

“At least we’re in the shower, huh?”

[superblysubpar]

<- part two | part four -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: You don’t like Steve Harrington.

the song: Hypotheticals by Lake Street Drive

also for your listening pleasure: Alone by Heart

3,349 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / alcohol consumption & mentions / thunderstorm mentions / wearing steve’s clothing, but size isn’t mentioned | my blog is 18+

AN: sorry for the delay, and for another “cliff-hanger” type ending, but I promise this next chapter, chapter four is meaty, and long, and I hope makes up for it. Also, I’ll probably post two chapters this next Monday, since I was late with this one. Thanks for your continued support, comments, messages, reblogs. I had this story locked away since December and really doubted it, and I really can’t express how much finally sharing it and you all reading it means! Thanks for being here 💛

A house on Cornwallis Street - Monday

  Steve shifts against the leather seat, wet denim making a squeaking sound that’s loud enough to be heard over the rain pelting the windows and the faint piano intro that has you reaching towards the radio on impulse. 

  As the turn signal clicks rhythmically with the wipers, your hand stalls halfway to the dial when Steve looks over at you. 

  He nods his head towards the radio, relaxed as he makes the turn onto his street, though his fingers hold the steering wheel at a responsible ten and two. 

  “You can turn it up, doesn’t bother me. S’good song.”

  You hum some sort of agreement, nudging the dial a touch louder, so Heart’s ballad can be fully heard. 

  His head tilts, thumb tapping the leather of the steering wheel in perfect time with the beat of the song. 

  The lyrics aren’t lost on you, and instead of wondering if Steve also knows all the words, you turn to look out the window. 

  Right at the wrong moment. 

  The flinch of your shoulders is involuntary, and so is how the jerk of your head to face forward again makes the wrap of his fingers around the wheel tighter. Passing the house makes his stomach churn more than yours, especially when your whisper is almost lost to the wailing lead vocals of the chorus. 

  “Forgot you lived on the same street.”

  “Yeah.” 

  Steve bites his cheek, unsure of what else to say. Should he say he’s sorry, all these years later? Will that just make it worse? Should he make a joke? But would you think that means he doesn’t care?

  You’re lost in memories of a car not unlike this one. Of a humiliating night at a house on this street. Of a beer thrown in a face and a pair of heels left in a yard. 

  So when your name is spoken softly, quieter than he usually is, you’re shocked to see the car is in park in a driveway of a large house, off, and Steve’s lips are parting under eyes that are looking at you with the same pity he had that night.

  You quickly unsnap the seatbelt, and practically fling yourself out of the passenger door, squinting under the heavy drops of rain smacking your face as you run up the pavement towards a front door you never thought you’d be entering. 

  Steve is right behind you, breathing heavily as he shakes his hair out like a wet dog, rubbing a large palm down his face as he shoves a key in the lock. 

  Stepping inside the foyer of Steve Harrington’s house is surreal. 

  Not only because you’re standing in the home of the man you’ve sworn you hate, but it’s picture perfect. It’s one of those houses that feels like it belongs in a magazine or one of those books your parents used to keep on the coffee table. There’s sparse wall decorations and furniture, though all of it high end - rich woods and soft neutrals, abstract art. There’s a ton of natural lighting that you can see is casting his home in a soft blue glow even through the storm. 

  Steve flicks on the entryway lamp, warm light illuminating where he hangs his family video vest on a hook. He kicks off his Nike’s that squish and squelch as the toe knocks against the heel then the floor. 

  He starts to step out of the foyer, calling over his shoulder, “I don’t care, but my mom will most likely murder you if you leave your shoes on.”

  You’re not sure if he means he doesn’t care if you leave them on and it’s your choice whether to risk the wrath of Mrs. Harrington, or if he doesn’t care if she kills you.

  The thought of leaving your feet trapped inside wet leather boots for who knows how long makes you shudder, so you’re quick to unlace them and leave them next to Steve’s muddied sneakers. 

  Your vest is removed next, hung next to his with a frown as you watch it drip onto the hardwoods. When you glance up to ask if you should move them to somewhere less prone to water damage, Steve is gone. 

  “Harrington?” you call out, arms wrapping around yourself as you risk a step further into the house. 

  “In here!” he yells, past the staircase and around a corner.

  Venturing deeper, wet socks leave darker marks on cream carpet in a small den. A cozy and large green armchair and desk, and dark wood bookcases that sit mostly empty frame a wide set of sliding glass doors that look out at a pool. The bright and normally calm turquoise surface interrupted with the rain, ripples running across it to tiled edges. 

  Opening and closing of wood doors from behind you pulls you from your trance in front of the pool, spinning to see Steve standing in a kitchen that’s just as nice as this room. White tiled floors contrast with a green walls and warm wood cabinets. He’s pulling a bag of pretzels from a cupboard, a jar of peanut butter, and Oreos. He drops the snacks in a heap on the large center island before he looks up at you. 

  “Figured we might need some snacks while we wait it out. Want something to drink too?”

  Before you can respond, he’s already spinning towards the other end of the room, speaking with his hands about how peanut butter always makes him thirsty. 

  You drip on the tiles of the Harrington’s kitchen, shivering as Steve speaks into the fridge.

  “Do you want…shit, um, I have beer? Or water? A thing that I think is a tomato? Which isn’t really a drink so I don’t know why I’m still talking about it…”

  His shoulders flex under the damp light blue cotton of his shirt, his hand runs through his hair before he reaches in to grab something. 

  When you remain silent, he looks over his shoulder, and you’re sure he’s caught you staring at the sliver of his stomach that became revealed when he stretched for the beers now in his hands. 

  But then he quickly stands up straight, fridge door swinging shut behind him as he carelessly lets the two cans slide onto the counter top. 

  “Shit, I didn’t even…I’m freezing so you must…and I’m sorry, I-“

  A crack of thunder that seems to come from inside the house makes you both jump, bringing forth two sudden realizations to your mind. 

  The first, found out from the way Steve’s hands shake again, and the way his gaze darts out the windows showing inky clouds against an eerie, almost green tinted sky. 

  Steve Harrington is nervous. 

  The second realization comes from your step towards him. Maybe you were on your way to comfort him, maybe it was to punch his shoulder and taunt him. Either way, the step reminds you that you’re dripping water and making a nice puddle all over Mrs. Harrington’s pristine tiles. 

  Which just so happen to be the same lovely shade as your shirt.

  And maybe both the white cotton and the pink lace that sits beneath it leave little to the imagination when frigid AC and damp clothing combine against sensitive skin. 

  Your arms slowly cross over your chest, hugging yourself as you finally manage to let out a breathy exhale and the words, “I love beer.”

  Steve’s lips twitch, lifting on the left in a lopsided smile, a far away look as he stares at you from the other side of the kitchen and quietly asks, “Yeah?”

  Despite what your nipples would like to convey, his stare heats you from the inside out, convincing you that lightening has struck the house and you’re on fire. So you don’t really think you’re lying when you say, “And I’m not cold.”

  Steve’s cheeks are pink as he gestures to the counter top, “Okay, sure. Well I’m hard,” he squeezes his eyes shut and quickly corrects, “Cold! I’m cold, and I’m, um, if you wanna carry that stuff, I’m gonna grab clothes and we can go down to the basement.” 

  He quickly shuffles around the island, making sure he leaves the three feet of counter between you till he slips out of the room with cheeks darkening to the color of your bra. He goes so fast he misses the way you bite your lip and hide a smile. 

  But as his feet pound on the stairs, you stand up straighter and slap your hands to your cheeks. 

  No.

  Nope.

  Not. Happening. 

  You don’t like him. 

  Settling the beers and snacks against your chest and in your arms, you head back the way you came, slowing as you see photos on the shelves.

The typical posed family portrait, hands on his shoulders, Steve stiff in a white button down shirt and tie at various ages. But there’s one that catches your eye - tucked behind a larger frame. It rests behind the dusty glass off center, at an angle, edges worn. 

  A much younger Steve faces the camera, one eye squinted shut, holding up an ice cream cone proudly, with chocolate smeared across his lips and cheeks. And then you see the building behind him, the little girl leaving the frame, the back of her hand just visible - showing off a painted and sparkly tiger that matched her green nail polish. 

  You don’t like him. 

  “Hey,” he calls from the hallway, pulling you away from spiraling thoughts. Steve stands in the doorway, holding clothes in his arms, his eyes look at the picture, then back at you. He nods his head towards the door behind him and swallows, “It’s getting pretty dark and spooky out there, think we should get down to the basement?”

  Without the thoughts of a hot summer night and a cute boy who offered to share his ice cream with you, and that same boy who ruined everything that same night clouding your vision, you now see the sky has gone almost black, the pool water calm and undisturbed. 

  You can’t look away, wanting to sit and watch the storm continue to roll in, to see what it destroys. Like an accident, you can’t help it. Thunder rumbles, lightening flashes, and Steve says your name softly, pleading, and it snaps you out of it. 

  His arms that hold the clothes flex, blue cotton tightening on his shoulders as they hunch when the crack of the thunder makes you jump and him clear his throat. 

  He opens a door opposite the room, flicking on the light before turning to make sure you’re following him. Once you close the door behind you, you continue down the creaky stairs, until Steve stops abruptly and spins, his face level with your chest as he looks up at you with a winced, “Before you yell at me, there’s something you should know.”

  “What,” you laugh, shifting awkwardly on the dimly lit staircase, “The thunderstorm isn’t real, all lab created and fake movie effects done by the little twerps that follow you around because you promised them free rides for life if you helped seal this bet’s fate?”

  Steve groans, hanging his head backwards before he faces you again with a smile. “Shit. Why did I not think of that?”

  “Because you’re an idiot,” you whisper, ignoring the way your hand itches to touch the three freckles that crinkle next to his eye when he smiles. 

  “Right,” Steve nods, “As we established during fake-tits-gate. But no,” he laughs, turning back around, “I have a bunch of stolen rentals down here that Keith and you have been asking about for like two months.”

  You don’t know if you want to smack him for saying the word tits, or laugh and sort of turn into a gooey puddle because of it, or yell at him for the clear work violation. 

  So you settle on none of it, only admitting a small sigh and then mumbling, “What am I gonna do with you?”

  “Fuck me? Sure would help me out with this whole bet thing.” He spins with a grin and you narrow your eyes. But he persists, raising a right hand, “I swear, it’ll be great for you. I’ll do all the work. Scout’s honor.”

  “You were never a boy scout,” you accuse, ignoring the way your heartbeat seems to sound a little louder down here. How it’s definitely colder and that’s why your nipples are hard again. 

  Steve hums, dropping the pile of clothes on a worn coffee table. His fingers flip through the stack, glancing up at you as he asks, “Oh? And how do you know? Keeping tabs on me, babe?”

  When you don’t respond, he looks up again, finding you frowning with shoulders hunched. 

  “Shit,” he whispers, “I was doing so good too. You really don’t like me calling you that, huh?”

  You roll your eyes, blinking profusely as you busy yourself with setting the snacks and beer on the coffee table. He almost misses it when you murmur, “It’s just cause he called me that. Before…Brendan…” 

  Not caring to finish the sentence attached to the memories swirling around inside your head, you move towards the opposite wall where a small box TV and stack of tapes sit. “So, what terrible taste in movies do I have to endure?”

  “Hey.”

  “It’s fine, Harrington, real-“

  He says your name, interrupting you and when you look up at him, he knows this is his chance to say what he should have said a long time ago.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Steve says the words with so much sincerity, a wrinkle between his brows making something inside your stomach tug, like your body has a visceral reaction of needing to go over and smooth it away. He stands across the room from you, next to a ratty brown couch, holding sweats, dripping water as he shakes his head, looking the most genuine he ever has. 

  “I’ll never call you that again, I promise.”

  This time, you’re absolutely sure you are on fire. Warmth flows from the top of your head down to your socks and all you can do is mumble a measly, “Okay.”

  It feels like an entire hour and no time at all passes while you stare at each other, opposite sides of the room, but for once, there’s a common ground between you, an unspoken wave of flags, a line drawn in the sand being kicked and smoothed out. Neither of you knowing what’s supposed to come next. 

  So naturally, Steve ruins the moment. 

  “So, like,” he blows out his breath, tilting his head, “Honey, baby, sweetie okay? I just wanna make sure. You know, for when we’re having sex.”

  His smile tells you that he’s kidding, he’s making a joke to lighten whatever mood you’ve both trapped yourselves in. So you avoid his gaze and push a tape into the player, not even reading the name as you wave a dismissive hand. “Go change already, you smell like a wet dog.”

  Steve backs away, towards a small bathroom and hums, “Seems like you’re just trying to get me out of my clothes faster.” He nods towards the coffee table as you approach it, “Oh, and I did bring some clothes down for you too, if you want them. I know you said you weren’t cold but…”

He flips the light on in the bathroom, facing you, the glow behind him creating a halo on top of his caramel highlights as he grins in a way that’s the opposite of angelic. 

  “Your boobs have been telling a very different story.”

  The throw pillow you chuck at the door with a scoff misses him, smacking the wood that manages to close just in time, not doing much to hide his pleased laughter. 

  “I hate you!” you call out, arms crossing over your chest as you look at the clothes. 

  “Really?” he calls, “Cause your boobs have been-“

  “No! No more! Or I steal your car and drive home!” you can’t help but laugh around the threat, so you know he knows you’re not serious, but he remains quiet. 

  Despite it being easy for you to become irritated with him, you’d much rather this Steve than the quiet or nervous Steve. Or now, sincere, Steve, who you have no idea how to act around. This is all normal territory, the water you both know how to tread. This is able to be navigated. 

  Or so you thought. 

  You hate to give him the satisfaction of being right, but you are cold. So you grumble to yourself about taking your clothes off in Steve Harrington’s basement. Your jeans stick to your legs as you kick them off, making a pile with your white shirt. A laugh huffs out of your nose as you slip on plaid pajama bottoms, wondering how to make some sort of joke about them, when you’re halfway through pulling a sweatshirt on.  Your arms and head pause inside the gray material, and you inhale. 

  Your knees are replaced with jello. 

  You’re in the woods, mint toothpaste, cotton laundry, and something so undeniably Steve Harrington, you can’t help but take another large inhale. 

  In your scent frenzy that’s not unlike a cat with catnip, you don’t hear the bathroom door open or Steve’s sharp breath in. 

  He swallows, seeing you standing in his clothes, arms raised and halfway through his sweatshirt, your bare lower back, pink lace band of your bra shown off. 

  His knees are replaced with jello. 

  Steve clears his throat, and you quickly pull the sweatshirt down, neither of you admitting your moment of indulgence, and neither of you daring to ask if the other caught it. 

  You sit next to each other on the couch, Steve hands you a beer, and neither of you speak.  All you can think about is how to actively stop yourself from ducking your nose into the collar of the sweatshirt and taking another large inhale, and all he can think of is a curious thought that tugs and tugs and begs to know if your underwear matches your bra. 

  It isn’t until the lights flicker, and thunder growls that either of you moves or says anything. 

  Steve flinches, wiping a palm on his thigh that sits too close to yours and you go for a joke, trying to return once more to already mapped out communication points. 

  “I had no idea the king of Hawkins was afraid of a little rain.”

  When you pop open the beer and Steve only grimaces, flinching again when thunder claps overhead, you’re brought back to another night, sitting next to the same boy, with the roles reversed. 

  Sweaty fingers had smudged your tiger, but it was worth it, to have someone to hold while your heart rate returned to normal. So you look at Steve now, who’s eyes watch the TV screen but aren’t really seeing it, who’s shoulders tense, who’s been far quieter and genuine tonight than you’d yet to see from him ever, and make a decision. 

  “Wanna squeeze my hand till it’s over?” 

  Steve exhales, lacing his fingers with yours as he laughs nervously, “Jesus christ, I thought you’d never ask.”

  “Sorry,” you murmur, adjusting your arm against his and shifting into the couch deeper, ignoring the way his thumb swipes once over yours and what it does to your stomach. “Thought you were nervous because of me. You know,” you laugh, taking a sip of your beer before continuing, “Seeing nipples for the first time is a lot for a guy. You did good.”

  “Ha-ha,” he says dryly, squeezing your hand on the next rumble. “Seriously, don’t tell anyone?”

  “That you haven’t seen a woman’s nipples before? Because I will absolutely be telling anyone who will listen.”

  Steve doesn’t say anything, just turns his head, cheek resting against the scratchy brown couch, taking in your smiling profile. 

  You don’t dare to look at him as you sigh, squeezing his hand back. 

  “Secret’s safe with me, Harrington.”

  You don’t like him. 

Tag List - thank you for your continued support and patience! 💛

@ash5monster01 @madaboutjoe @foreverinwanderlust @the-fairy-anon @scarletwitchgf

@curlsincriminology @siriuslysmoking @redbarn1995 @starry--sarah @starksbabie

@taccobelle @angst-lasagna @blckburd @crownofdecit @torntaltos

@sanniegirl1214 @yourmommilf

[st4rreid]

well behaved padawan

mdni 18+

summary: you had been acting in like a brat all day, pushing Anakin to his limits until he had enough.

warnings: smutty smut smut, fem/ afab reader, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, swearing, p in v, power imbalance, edging/ orgasm denial, praise, degradation, teeny bit of aftercare, creampie, probably more but i’m tired.

A/N: iz actually posting for once??? drinking wine brings out the whore in me so i was possessed to write this.

wc: 1.5k

You know Anakin prefers a compliant padawan, pounding you into submission when the council smites him, or when missions don’t go exactly how he wants. Every now and again however, you can’t help but to act out, and get under that pretty tanned skin of his, and that’s exactly what you had been doing all day, rolling your eyes and sighing when he spoke, dragging your feet as you walked behind him through the temple, making lousy blocks when he lifted his saber at you in training.

Truthfully you didn’t know why you were in such a bratty mood, but you reasoned that you had just been too well behaved as of late and he should have to put in some work for once.

You knew when he pulled you into his quarters he’d be making you sorry for your actions.

"What's wrong Ani?" you purred, running your hands through his hair and tugging gently. “I know we’ve had a long day.”

Anakin's eyes darkened with desire. Almost always, he would take charge, but today, after your behavior he had something a little extra in mind. He sensed a challenge in your eyes, a playful sparkle that hinted at trouble.

"Get off me, brat," he growled, his hands going to grip at your thighs. "You know very well that your behavior today warrants a punishment.”

"Aw, come on, Ani," you cooed, leaning forward so that your nipples brushed against his chest. "I just want to make you feel good. Isn't that what good girls do?"

With a swift move, Anakin pushed you onto the bed, caging you between his arms. "Not this time, little slut. This time, I want you to beg. Beg me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours."

A mischievous glint met your eyes, your inner brat bubbling back to the surface. "Oh, really? And what if I don't want to?" You pushed him away, "Maybe I'll just go find someone else to scratch this itch. Obi-wan looked really really good toda-" *smack* you were interrupted by a harsh backhand across your face, head careering to the right.

Anakin's eyes narrowed, his possessiveness bubbling to the surface. "Oh, you think you can play that game, do you?" He closed the gap between you, his tall, muscular frame intimidating, yet incredibly attractive. "You forget who's in charge here, princess."

"Who's in charge?" you taunted, cheek stinging, yet not quite ready to submit. "I don't see anyone in charge here except me. And right now, I'm feeling very much in control."

Anakin's gaze darkened, and you could see the desire burning in his eyes. He placed his hands on your waist, tugging closer. "You want to play it that way, huh? Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you when it becomes too much for you.”

"You like being a naughty girl, don't you? Teasing me, playing with fire. Well, let's see how well you handle it."

You gasped as he pinned you against the wall, his mouth crashing down on yours in a hungry kiss. You melted into him, your brattish façade slipping as your need for him took over. His kiss was demanding, possessive, and it sent shivers down your spine.

His hands roamed your body, removing your robes as well as his as he went, cupping your breasts, tugging at your nipples, making you whimper into his mouth. Then, sliding his hand down your stomach, to the apex of your thighs, his fingers seeking the heat of your sopping core.

"Somebody's wet baby? It’s pathetic, like she’s crying for me, huh?" he crooned, his breath hot against your ear. "Did thinking about being a bad girl turn you on? Did you touch yourself, imagining it was my hand between your legs?"

you whimpered, head falling back as his fingers teased your clit. "No... I... I wanted you," you gasped, your body thrumming with need.

"Wanted me, huh?" Anakin said, his voice hoarse with desire. "Well, you’re gonna have to wait a little longer first ok? I can’t go around rewarding bad behavior.”

With that, he swept you off your feet and carried you to the bed, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of lust and dominance.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed he placed you, stomach down across his legs, hands roaming the curves of your ass. “Count.” he spat.

Feeling brave you rushed to start counting, before he could hand you the intended punishment. “one, two, three, fo- fuck!” you shrieked the painful stinging being more than you anticipated. “Feel like behaving yet?” he questions, and you can practically feel the smug smirk he's sure to have. You shake your head and let out a tiny “nuh-uh” that comes out more as a whimper as tears start to prickle at your lash line.

He raises his hand again and you tense in anticipation, needy hole clenching as he delivers another equally as mean smack. “T-two” you choke out, tears now freely falling down your face and onto the plush mattress beneath you. “There's my good girl again” Anakin coos, letting his dominant exterior fade for just a second as he strokes the reddened flesh.

His dominance quickly returns to the surface, as he delivers an ever so slightly softer hit to your hind. “Three” you sob, knuckles turning white as you clench your little fists together.

“Two more, pretty girl. You can do that for me right?” he croons, amused by how a few good spanks can completely dissolve your bratty display. You whimper a little “yes” between deep breaths to prepare yourself for the next one.

“Four!” you cry, cursing under your breath. Not wanting to delay any further, Anakin delivers the last firm hit to you. “Fuck-five!” you shout relieved that the onslaught of spankings was over.

Anakin soothes his hands over the new marks he had left, thoroughly enjoying his own handywork.

"Now, be a good girl, get on the bed and spread those pretty legs for me," he said, his voice low and husky.

Your bratty exterior had completely melted away, replaced by a needy, wanton whore. you did as you were told, spreading your legs wide, exposing your sopping pussy to him.

Anakin's eyes devoured the sight before him. "Such a pretty sight," he growled, positioning himself at your entrance, tip grazing your soaked folds. "You ready for me, baby?"

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. "Please, Anakin. I need you. Now."

With one swift thrust, he entered you, bottoming out. You cried out, in short broken gasps, your legs twitching as you took his whole length, the stretch was uncomfortable, but not entirely unpleasant, and almost completely eclipsed by the satisfaction of being so full. He began to move, his hips snapping as he plunged in and out of your tight heat.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs as he pounds into you. “Your tight little pussy was made for my cock."

You moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure coursed through you. "Please... right there... Oh God!"

His thrusts became more urgent, his body slick with sweat as he drove into you again and again. Your hips bucking up to meet his in perfect synchronicity. The room was filled with the sounds of your combined passion—the slapping of skin, ragged breaths combined, and your moans of pleasure.

"I'm close... so close," you panted, your body tensing as an orgasm built within the pit of your stomach.

With the admission of your impending orgasm, Anakin’s hips stilled, that cocky, knowing smirk plastered on his face. “Hm I don’t know baby.” he croons “I still haven’t forgotten your insolence.”

Your chin started to wobble. Tormented by his throbbing cock still buried deep within, angry red tip weeping inside.

“‘m sorry! Please, just let me!” you cried out, thick, hot tears sliding down your face.

He resumes his movements, this time deliciously slow, allowing you to feel every vein along his length. “Are you going to misbehave again like you did today?” he smirks, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants; a whiny mess, broken and needy.

You shake your head, tears freely flowing down your face, “ ‘m not, no. never again.” you grip onto him tighter, surely leaving little crescent marks, on the taught skin of his shoulders.

“Promise me baby, y’know I hate not giving you what you want” liar, he’s found this process entirely satisfying, but he doesn't want you to know that yet, not when you've taken his condescension so sweetly.

“Please Ani, i- I promise.” with your verbal pledge he kisses away the sweetly salty tears coating your face before returning to pound into you.

"Cum for me, baby," Anakin growled, his voice thick with his own desire. "Let me feel that tight pussy milking my cock."

Your body shook as an intense orgasm ripped through you, walls clenching tightly around his shaft. "Anakin! Oh fuck!"

Feeling your orgasm, Anakin let go, his own release crashing over him. "Fuuuck!" he grunted, his hips stuttering as he filled you with his hot sticky cum.

Collapsing onto you, he kissed you deeply, their sweaty bodies still joined together. "Gods, baby," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. You hazily smiled, still vibrating from the intensity of your orgasm. “You’re all sweaty Ani, and heavy. We need to shower.” Anakin hummed, still not ready to move “just five minutes like this princess.”

[squinch-depraved]

schlatt waking you up and using you however he wants (ib an irl experience kinda?? also first fic i've shared let's gooo sorry it's so short and possibly bad i wanted to get my first real post out on his birthday 😔) (shaking crying scared throwing up pls be nice to me)

you weren't sure when exactly you woke up. maybe it was when the door first creaked open and shut, quickly and quietly. maybe somewhere in the next few stagnant silent seconds in which he seemed to contemplate what he was doing, his broad frame pausing in front of the exit just long enough to think, fuck it, before his footsteps led him to the side of your bed. maybe it was when you felt his cock on your face and heard, "smile, toots," just to open your eyes to a bright flash. he was sitting on you now, pinning you down and smacking his throbbing shaft all over your face. a small whimper forces its way past your lips and he laughs.

"j, 'm so tired," you whine.

"you're the one who said i could use you whenever." he grips your chin in one hand when you try to turn away.

"didn't say you could take pictures," you retort, grabbing a pillow and hiding under it.

"needed something for when we're apart. now stop fuckin' talking, or i'm gonna ruin you even worse than i already plan to." the pillow is thrown off the bed before he's even done speaking. "and don't hide this pretty little face when i'm lookin' at it." he pauses for a moment, and then spits on your face. it's humiliating. it's pathetic. but it makes you so, so wet. and he can tell.

he throws your blanket somewhere, and you sigh because you know once he's done with you you'll have to get out of bed to go get it again. unimportant and worth it compared to what's about to happen. a grin lights up his face when he notices you aren't wearing anything but one of his sweaters.

"fuck, doll," he breathes. "were you expecting this or somethin'?" dipping his finger into your slick and bringing it to his mouth, he groans. "never mind, i don't fucking care, just- ugh, just keep lookin' pretty while i use you like the stupid toy you are."

you squeal as he slides himself between your legs and wastes no time slamming himself into you.

"god, toots, slid in so easily, huh? you that wet for me?"

he snickers when you can't say anything back, too sleepy and delirious from his dick to manage a reply. one hand comes up to wrap around your throat while the other holds himself steady as he pounds into you at a relentless pace. what was, before this, a quiet bedroom, is now a dark, echoey chamber of moans and grunts, skin on skin sounds bouncing off the wooden furniture and slate grey walls. pleasure dances through your limbs, settling as an ever-building burning deep in your core. you try to speak with his hand still around your neck.

"j, 'm gonna-"

"i don't care, y/n, either come on my cock or don't but shut up," he pants.

and so you do. you come undone, digging your nails into his back through his sweater. a few moments later, he speeds up a bit and grunts, burying his face into your neck and spilling a rather large load into you. you both stay there for a few minutes, content and unsure of what to say. finally, he looks up at you and smiles slightly.

"sorry. i, uh. i just needed. that," he mumbles. you pet his hair and kiss his forehead.

"get the fuck off me so i can clean up and sleep."

[7ndipity]

“Just a Joke”

Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook decides to teach you a lesson when you poke at his jealous nerves one too many times. An expansion of this reaction post.

Word Count: 1.0k

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut, fingering(f. receiving) possessive Jungkook, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I know you said to add a lil spice, but I may have gotten a bit carried away and spilled half a jar of chilis in this, sorry(Or not? Idk). I tried to balance it out w some fluff. (Also lol, of course Jk’s first smut piece on this blog would end up being about his possessive streak(let’s all act surprised, just for fun))

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jungkook had been laughing to himself for the better part of ten minutes over the Dispatch article that one of the other members had sent, discussing your supposed romance with his bandmate.

He’d give them credit, you had been on a date that day, they’d gotten that much right, but it’d been with him, and you’d just happened to bump into Jin at the restaurant. But, due to the angle of the pictures that they’d snapped through the window, Jungkook hadn’t been visible, leaving those who were curious or bored enough to speculate what was going on with you and the eldest member of his group.

“As if you would date Jin!” He chuckled.

“I mean, it’s not that crazy, he is pretty handsome.” You finally said, trying to hide the smirk that was pulling at the corner of your mouth.

You knew how easy it was to set off Jungkook’s jealous nature, you’d done it enough times, both purposefully and accidentally, to have it down to a system, one that sometimes resulted in you not being able to walk properly the next day, but sometimes that was what you wanted, it was too fun to tease him to resist.

His expression dropped at your words, staring at you blankly for a moment before turning on his heel and walking out the room.

“Kook, it was just a joke!” You called, trying to catch up with him. “Kook, I was kidding!”

As you entered the bedroom, you stopped short, glancing around in confusion as you found it empty.

“Koo- Agh!” You let out a small shriek of surprise as Jungkook slipped out from behind the door, catching you around the waist and spinning you around til your back made contact with the wall, one of his hands coming up to protect your head from hitting as he eyed you darkly, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“You think you’re funny?” He growled, pressing himself against your front. “You think it’s funny to tease me like that?”

He leaned in, letting his lips just graze yours before trailing to the side, coming to rest against the shell of your ear.

“Maybe I should remind you who it is that you belong to?” He whispered, the cool metal of his lip rings a stark contrast to his hot breath, making you shiver in anticipation.

“Koo.” You tried to say, but he moved back to claim your lips with his own, rough hands groping every inch that he could reach as his tongue explored into your mouth, swallowing your whimpers as you clung to him.

Snaking a hand down the front of your pants, he chuckled against your lips as he felt the growing damp patch on your panties.

“Does Jin make you this wet?” He asked, cocking his head to the side as he watched you squirm under his touch.

“No.” You shook your head.

“Who does then, hmm?” He questioned, hooded eyes never leaving yours.

“You, only you, Koo.” You said shakily.

“Very good.” He gripped your waist again, pushing you back on the bed before ridding you of your bottoms and exposing your cunt to the cool air of the room.

“Fuck, look at you.” He breathed, slipping a single finger into your wet heat, making you let out a soft whine.

“Could Jin make you feel this good?” He asked, adding another finger as he began to set a steady pace.

You shook your head, earning a smack to your thigh from his free hand.

“Words Baby, wanna hear you.” He huffed. “Who makes you feel good?”

“Agh! Jungkook!” You moaned as he curled his fingers, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

“That’s right, Love.” He panted, sounding almost as gone as you were, pounding his fingers into you at a rapid pace, the wet sounds so lewd it made your cheeks burn.

“Koo, please.” You gasped, feeling your high threatening to overtake you.

“Let go, Love, it’s okay. Give it to me.” He said, speeding up his movements to push you over the edge.

You let out a weak cry of his name as your high crashed over you, shaking in his hold as he continued to work you through it.

His movements gradually slowed to a stop as you came down, chest heaving and twitching slightly from sensitivity. He moved to rest next to you on the bed, using his clean hand to caress your face tenderly.

“Are you alright, Love? Was that too much?” He asked gently, looking at you now with nothing but love and concern.

You shook your head. “No, that was- that was good.” You panted.

He chuckled, stroking your arm softly as you caught your breath. “Do you need me to do anything?”

“Can you hold me?”

He found it both endearing and heartbreaking at the same time that you still asked so shyly after all this time, as if his answer was uncertain, as if he would ever deny you anything.

“Of course.” He carefully wrapped his arms around you, letting your head rest against his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. For several minutes, neither of you spoke, not feeling the need to fill the space with pointless words.

When he finally did speak, Jungkook’s voice was soft, not wanting to shatter the tranquility of the moment.

“I’m sorry if I got carried away.” He said.

“You didn’t...” You whispered. “I’m sorry I teased you.”

“No, you’re not.” He snorted, making you both burst into quiet laughter. “We both know how much you like winding me up.”

“Like you don’t do it too.” You countered, shifting to look up at him as he leaned down to press a kiss to your head.

“Just so long as you know that I am just teasing.” You said, turning serious, running your hand through his hair. “You know you’re the only one I’ll ever want.”

“I know.” He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes.

“I love you so much.” He whispered.

“I love you too.” You leaned up, brushing your lips against his in the faintest of kisses. “My sweet boy.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup

[jeongsoob]

guilty as sin —⋆˚࿔ 𝐜𝐡𝐬

SFW version of my fic posted here on @heechwe .ᐟ ✿ pairing: chwe hansol x fem!reader ✿ word count: 6.2k ✿ genre: angst, fluff ✿ tags: coworker au, friends to lovers au, semi-unrequited love au ✿ synopsis: Never in a million years did you think you would have a crush on your friend and best friend's boyfriend. But sometimes what is in your heart springs up at the worst times. ✿ warnings: mentions of anxiety, some semblances of emotional cheating per se?

A dream should not have this much power over you.

Running into the studio, rehearsal clothes and all practically spilling out of your bag, you chastise yourself over and over at the scenario that has ran through your head since you woke up abruptly last night. Company personnel and coworkers stare at you while you sprint past them, mumbling yourself at your stupidity. You could barely get an hour of rest after the rude awakening. Every fiber of your being wanted to melt back into the dream. Of course, when you managed to stop tossing and turning, the alarm clock blared to life to remind you to get ready for band practice and head out.

It almost felt like reality was hidden in between your sheets, and the outside world was nothing but a false fantasy. And what was the best way for the world to remind you your dream was a figment of your imagination? Running into the subject of the imagery.

“Hey, watch out!” It takes little effort to be knocked back onto your ass. Your duffel bag explodes across the company building tile. You watch your belongings fall around you; clothing, sheet music paper, and emergency makeup flits in all directions. As an excuse to avoid looking directly up at him, you scramble to pick up everything. But all it takes to stop your frantic hands is Vernon’s voice speaking your name.

“What’s the rush,” Vernon says, a smirk on his face and a handful of your items in his palm. His sleeveless tank drapes across his chest, tucked into the waistband of his sweatpants. The top of his head is hidden in a one of his signature beanies, despite your warnings of his ridiculous head hair. “Cloud 9 can take a second for their keyboardist to make it.”

You hear some of the guys behind him laughing but continuing on their way, and you remind yourself to smack Mingyu upside the head the next time you see him. He may be stronger than you, but he deserves it. “Sorry, just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” you respond.

“Too long on the keys again? Jihoon needs to set a limit for late sessions, I swear,” he jokes.

“Nah, just had a weird dream,” you confess. What the fuck is wrong with you? You practically feel yourself smack your hand to your forehead. Vernon helps you up once all of your belongings are back in your bag. He places both hands on your shoulders, and the close-lipped smile on his face almost knocks you backwards.

“Just relax, practice is practice,” he reminds you, and you nod with a reciprocal grin.

You should not be thinking about him like this. And not when that someone is dating your best friend.

“Can you give this to Mina for me? She forgot to grab them from my room.” He hands you her keys once he swipes them from his pocket. The pink plush rabbit’s foot you bought her years ago that sits on her key-chain practically burns the words TRAITOR into your hand.

“Glad you thought to give them to her. She said this thing is the key to us getting good news today,” you say.

He sighs. “At least I remember things right?” Mingyu and Wonwoo almost out of view, Vernon motions to leave.

“See you later. Knock the big man dead!” He ruffles your hair before running after the boys, leaving you with a kaleidoscope of thoughts.

“Help me find a lifeline, in this heartbroken sea of mine,” Mina sings into the microphone. The words echo off the walls of the studio. Mr. Park keeps his focused gaze on the band until you play the last chords of the song. Unbeknownst to Vernon, your anxiety had nothing to do with Cloud 9’s evaluation. You could play the song and your entire album tracklist blindfolded. But now, seeing Mr. Park give nothing away makes your stomach turn.

Then, his face erupts in a smile as he claps his hands together hard. “Wonderful, girls. Absolutely wonderful!”

Mina and the rest of you breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Even Jeonghi, who’s perpetually stonefaced, displays a small smile.

“So we’re performance ready for the gala?” Mina asks for all of you, the thought on every bandmember’s mind.

“I believe so.” Mr. Park practically laughs as he says it. Everyone smiles wider and Jana, your lead guitarist, squeals in glee. Naejin, your new bassist, pats a hand on your back.

The Pledis Gala not only hosted the investors and higher-ups for the night, but the talent of the year were expected to have a performance during the party’s intermission. It was up to a couple groups and bands, but Mr. Park heavily endorsed Cloud 9 for the ticket. In spite of the first album not being scheduled for release for another three months, this would be the first time the band would perform and have live feedback.

It wouldn’t just be feedback on Cloud 9, but on all the songs you wrote. Mina would say it was 95% you and 5% her adding a lyric or two. You both created the band together, so you let her get away with the comment. And neither of you would discount each other’s hard work and influence on the group, anyway.

“Keep this fire for the next two weeks, and it won’t just be me who’s in love with you. Trust me ladies, I can feel it in my bones!” Mr. Park raises his hands in the air, almost to prove to himself he wasn’t wrong in where he placed his faith. He walks out of the studio, leaving all five of you to celebrate.

“Thank fucking god.” Jeonghi huffs before sticking her drumsticks in her back pocket.

“Not so fast, Heehee,” Mina retorts. “Like Park said, this does not mean the next two weeks are for slacking off.”

“Min, we got the gig. Breathe for a second.” You shake her, hoping you can force her out of performance mode. “We deserve to relax. And maybe buy a round of shots.”

“I second that,” Naejin says.

“I vote for that also.” Jana adds. “And maybe some food to go with that? You guys know I can’t drink on an empty stomach.” Her response makes all the girls laugh, including Jeonghi.

The studio door opens without warning. Vernon walks in with a tentative smile. “I see happy faces. Either that means you’re playing the gala or you’re all being very upbeat about not playing the gala.”

Jeonghi scoffs. “We got it, asshat. “

“We definitely did,” Mina yells out in glee. Mina runs towards Vernon and wraps her arms around him, an audibly happy sigh leaving her

A year in, Mina still loves to give Vernon physical affection, witnesses or not. She even confessed once that she believed Naejin had a crush on him and, according to her, “marking her territory” was only a bonus to PDA. If only she knew.

It takes Vernon a minute to react to her embrace, but he wraps his arms around her nonetheless. He kisses the top of her head when she lets him go. “Great job babe,” he says to Mina.

He turns his attention to you a second later, his eyes lighting up. “And how did they like the last song? I know you were messing with it for weeks.”

“Nothing a good brainstorm with you and Jihoon didn’t fix.” You nudge him in the hip with yours. His subsequent laugh on a normal day wouldn’t make you think twice, but now, the smallest hint of a chuckle kicks you in the ribs.

It’s a wonder how feelings can spring up without an iota of effort. It’s Vernon! The guy wears hats year-round. He stuffs his face with Oreos before offering any to anyone. The Saw franchise still scares the shit out of him, no matter how many times he’s seen them. And he’s Mina’s boyfriend. How could this person you have known for so long somehow worm his way into your subconscious like this?

The term “crush” has always bugged you. It’s more of a bug, honestly. A gnat that keeps reminding you of its presence and imperviousness to swatting.

The pestering feeling grows with the contact of your body and his. It even made your heart skip a beat if you were being honest with yourself.

“Congratulations, really. You guys deserve it,” Vernon says the words to all of you, but his eyes are focused on you alone. You brush it off with a polite smile, hoping somewill will take his attention away so you can focus on breathing again.

“Alright, back to the original subject,” Mina says, silently answering your prayer. “Drinks! As the oldest, Naejin should handle the tab.”

Jihoon was the only person you trusted with new material. Mina and the others usually saw your work after many rounds of edits between yourself and your songwriting partner. As you both put a lot of effort into your respective bands’ work, it only made sense for him to be your official sounding board. The other units kept their contributions locked tight from anyone outside of the group. Except for Vernon, but it was rare for you to swap material directly.

That being said, Jihoon would lose his built-up credit if he continued to emit grunts and humphs instead of feedback on your work.

“If I hear another ‘huh’ come from your mouth, I will chuck my shoe at you,” you warn, still playing the keys of Elton John’s “I’m Still Standing” on the piano.

“It’s just interesting, that’s all,” Jihoon says.

That word cuts your piano playing short. “You don’t usually use that vocabulary when describing my lyrics.”

“When did you write this?” He asks. He grabs some copies from his backpack, assorting them in a pile.

“The night before yesterday.” It had been a long night of witnessing Mina’s extremely public displays of affections and drinking too many tequila shots. When you were walking home with the girls, a melody suddenly sprang in your heard. You mulled over it for hours with your buzz until you opened Garageband and wrote some lyrics to go with it. It was nothing more than a few lines, but you wanted Jihoon to see if the idea had any potential. “Why?”

“Help me find a lifeline, in this heartbroken sea of mine,” He recites the lyrics to “SOS” from one of the papers he collected from his backpack. He pulls another one from the pile. “You see the shadow of my thoughts, if only you recognized the workings of my heart.” Jihoon looks up at you. “Not trying to be too deep, but I think I can smell a thematic coincidence.”

“Jihoon, stop it.”

“Ah! And here’s the pattern, folks.” He clears his throat before reading the scrap of paper you gave him this afternoon. “She may be the piece that fits you, but I can be the puzzle that undoes you?”

You rest your elbows on the keys, head in your hands as the instrument screeches in protest. You feel the cushion next to you sink with the weight of Jihoon’s body, and you turn to him. Eyes welling up with tears, you say, “It’s that obvious is it?”

“Based on this material, yeah.” He scoffs, a pout on his face. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know! One day I’m fine, sitting with Jana as Vernon is making jokes and the next I’m dreaming-“

“Wait,” Jihoon interrupts you. “Vernon as in Mina’s Vernon?” You nod, to which Jihoon huffs out a breath. “Now this makes a lot of sense.”

“I don’t want to feel this way, Hoonie. I don’t. And I’m not going to be the person who takes a person from someone else,” you assure him.

“And you said ‘dreaming’? About what?” The curious look on Jihoon’s face makes you feel even worse. But, you let yourself pretend that telling one person about your dream will make it easier to lay your crush to rest. So you do, but not in so much detail…

You sit side by side as you play the final string of keys for Vernon, mouth a hard line from your anxiety. The silence sits between you once the song is over, and you clear your throat after singing the lyrics you came up with.

“It’s obviously touch-and-go, but I wanted to know what you think.” You tuck a hair behind your ear, shy at this crumb of an idea being the first thing Vernon has ever heard of yours before anyone else. You usually hammer at it until it’s close to perfect, but in this most vulnerable stage of the process, you’re worried he’ll judge it harsher than ever before.

“I think it’s amazing.” He smiles. His response makes you smile in turn, but it quickly fades once he places a hand on yours. He guides it to the keys, his fingers lingering over your skin. “But what if you changed the minor chord to a major? The song sounds like it could be hopeful rather than sad.”

“Major and minor? Jihoon is teeaching you well,” you tease.

“Fuck you.” He bumps your shoulder with his. “I’m being serious though.”

“I just feel like it would change everything about it.” You blush, taking your hand back. The room suddenly feels too small, the space between the two of you crossing and invisible barrier. You should tell him to scoot farther away from you on the bench, keeping a friendly and professional level of distance. But you don’t. This is the first time you’ve ever been this close when being alone together. A part of you wants to cherish it.

“What’s wrong with change,” he asks, staring at you with a curious but heady expression that makes your breath hitch. Your faces are a foot away but you remind yourself nothing will come from the close contact. Neither of you would ever, even if you wanted to.

“The entire song would have to be rewritten. And maybe it’s fine the way it is,” you respond.

“What if that’s just what you think, but it would be better to give it a try?” You get a feeling he isn’t talking about the song anymore. But it’s foolish to think that way. He’s not yours, and you don’t expect him to ever be. So why are his eyes flickering with a challenge, his lips parted, his expression daring you to choose the words you can’t speak out loud?

“Then try.” The thought leaves your mouth before you’re aware of its existence. And without preparation, Vernon’s lips are on yours.

You’ve kissed boys plenty of times before, but this kiss is an electric current charging every nerve in your body. It wakes you up and reminds you this is real, he is here and kissing you like he couldn’t hold himself back for another second.

You blame the universe for how good it feels to run your hands across his shoulders and neck, the vibration of his moans against your lips only swaying you to explore further. Every instinct may be screaming at you for how wrong this situation is and how you shouldn’t take what isn’t yours. But if this is the only chance you have, the memories of it have to last a lifetime.

The last thing you feel is Vernon's tongue entering your mouth before you find yourself awake in the middle of the night. You’re unsure whether it was the city below or a random sound in your room that pulled you from your dream, but you try your best for the rest of the night to steady your pounding heart.

“Dude that’s so gross. I did not need to know that!” Jihoon mimics vomiting on the laminate floor, and you chuckle in the midst of your tears.

“Shut up, man. I can’t control my dreams. And that was just the cliffnotes!”

“Dreams are one thing. Sounds like a soft core porn happening in your head to me,” he says. He gets up from the stool and shakes off his disgust. “And it was probably in one of our studios, you horndog.”

“I work here, so it may be gross but not unrealistic.” You sigh and close the lid of the piano, too deflated to play anything else. “So that’s that. I have a crush on Vernon that I did not ask for and it’s invading my entire thought process, even my fucking songwriting.”

“You know what this means right?” Jihoon smirks.

“If this means you think you can set me up on another blind date, you’re sadly mistaken.” You point your index finger at him as a visual cue to not push you further. “Not after the last date tried to explain to me the benefits of Scientology!”

“Okay, maybe that was a bust, but come on!”

You sigh, grabbing your belongings. What could it hurt to try again? Maybe the key to expelling your feelings was finding someone new. “As long as this one doesn’t try to convert me.”

Sunghoon turns out to be a complete gentleman, it makes you forget why you brushed off Jihoon’s suggestion a week ago. He opens the door to the restaurant and pulls out your chair. He talks about his love for playing professional baseball and remains engaged in everything you say about the music industry. On paper, it’s a perfect date with a man wrapped in green flags. But it isn’t with Vernon, and that gnat-like thought keeps pestering you, even as Sunghoon offers to walk you home.

Hand in hand, Sunghoon continues on his diatribe regarding American versus European football, a practically one-sided conversation that makes you laugh. “And why would they call it football anyway, am I right,” Sunghoon says. “Where in the game do they ever make contact with the ball by using their foot?”

“You sound like a comedian trying to come up with a skit,” you joke.

“I could see that…maybe if my day job fails. I promise to thank you when I blow up.” Sunghoon winks. He is all kinds of attractive, as Mina would say to you, wavy hair and a strong build to reflect his profession. He is perfect for you. So why don’t you feel a flutter in your chest when he squeezes your hand or any heat in your cheeks when he makes a flirty comment?

The answer comes in someone’s voice screaming your name into the night. You turn your head to find Vernon running down the street, a bag from 7-Eleven in his grasp and flying around in the air.

“Who’s this guy,” Vernon says when he finally catches up to you. His brows are furrowed and his chest is rising and falling quickly, but you blame the latter on his lack of exercise outside of practice. That and the thick material of his matching hoodie and sweatpants.

Sunghoon sharply lets go of your hand, a blush erupting on his face. “I’m so sorry, man. I didn’t know she had a-“

“No, she doesn’t.” You glare at Vernon. “This is a friend of mine. We work at the same company.”

Sunghoon breathes a sigh of relief, but Vernon remains indifferent as they shake hands and exchange greetings. “Glad to know I didn’t go on a date with someone already spoken for!”

You and Vernon look at Sunghoon in confusion. The speckle of interest you had in Sunghoon immediately sours, but only Vernon voices his disapproval. “This isn’t the 50s. She can speak for herself, man,” Vernon replies. His face turns from confusion to annoyance.

“And she thinks she can walk home alone. Thank you for the dinner, Sunghoon. You have my number.” You ignore the frown on Sunghoon’s face and turn to Vernon. “As for you, I’ll see you at work.”

You leave the two of them as you continue your walk home, but Vernon quickly catches up. “He seemed like a gem, huh?”

You scoff. “You didn’t really present yourself as a prize either, Vernon.”

“Do you blame me? The guy was a total neanderthal!”

“Maybe I like neanderthals. From experience, they seem to have great senses of humor. Especially in the misogyny department.” You crack a smile as he chuckles, but you try to hold onto your anger a smidgen longer. “You didn’t have to be so rude.”

“My rudeness was based on my intuition. And I was right, so you’re welcome.” Vernon ruffles through the bag and hands you a packet of sour Skittles. “And can you be mad at someone who got you your favorite candy?”

“How did you know you would even see me tonight to give me this?”

“I would’ve just saved them until the next time I saw you. You said sour Skittles always make your day better,” he says.

“Like three years ago,” you mumble, a gnawing pain suddenly within your chest.

“Well, as far as I could tell your candy preferences haven’t changed.” Vernon is blissfully unaware of how much his memory and the measly bag of candy splits your heart in two.

You look away from him to wipe a tear from your eye, but for the first time, he can tell something in your demeanor has shifted. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He puts both hands on either side of your face, his face suddenly becoming angry, a side he rarely shows. “Did that guy do something before I-“

You shake your head suddenly. “I’ve just been having a weird couple weeks. Just a lot of feelings before the gala, I guess.” You swallow and stare down at your feet, letting the lie seep in.

“I know you. This isn’t pre-show jitters,” he responds. His hands still sit comfortably on your cheeks. Despite the October chill, you wonder if he feels how hot your face has become since he;s touched it.

For the first time in a while, you look up at him and hold his gaze. You ask yourself a million questions as he stares back and the silence envelops you both. You hope they’re loud enough to reach him, to know if he shares the thoughts that have plagued your mind day after day. Do you know how easy it is to fall for you? Why do you make it so hard to deny this fucking feeling?

Someone calling both of your names pierces the quiet. Vernon immediately lets go of you and you step further away from him. You don’t realize you’ve made it to the company apartments until Mina steps out of the darkness, an accusatory glance in your direction. “What are you guys doing out this late?”

“Snack run,” Vernon answers immediately, pointing to the bag in his hand.

“Just coming back from a date,” you say quickly after Vernon.

Mina raises her eyebrows and gives a small smile. “Think he’ll be your date to the gala?”

“Time will tell,” you say in a clipped tone. You begin walking up the cobblestone pathway to the apartment entrance. “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

You don’t bother looking back at Vernon or Mina. You are sure if you do, every secret in your heart will reveal itself and the thought of losing both of them at once is more than you can take. Falling into a listless sleep, you do not know if there are any winners in this kind of fight.

The vibe as soon as you enter the studio is tense. The girls sit in a huddle around Mina, the subject of the attention bawling on Jana’s shoulder. You immediately run up to her, but Jeonghi stops you short. “I wouldn’t, kid.”

“What the hell happened,” you ask, concern flooding you.

“Like you don’t know.” Mina sniffles, dabbing at her eyes.

“What does it take for you to answer your phone,” Naejin says. She grabs a box of tissues to hand Mina.

Suddenly, you notice the girls’ accusatory glances and your concern nosedives into defense. “My phone was dead after I got back from my date. And I forgot to charge it before coming here so-“

“Convenient,” Jana responds.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You ask.

“It means that my boyfriend—oh sorry, I should say ex-boyfriend now.” Mina says, standing up from her spot on the couch with Jana to tread closer to you. “My ex decides to tell me he has feelings for someone else right after I see the two of you last night way too close for comfort? You’re right Jana, that’s pretty fucking convenient.” Mina’s tone cuts you deep. Despite the pain and fear inside of you, all you can think about is how profoundly inconvenient it was of you to go wireless for 12 hours.

“One, even if you don’t believe me, I did not think I would see Vernon last night let alone you.” Mina scoffs at the response, but you continue anyway. “Second, I have no idea who he could possibly have feelings for other than you, Min. And that’s the truth.”

“You’re telling me you absolutely have no feelings for him?” Mina asks you, her bottom lip trembling. Up to this point, her voice has been clipped and angry, but the last words break by the end. You thought last night broke your heart, but this is true heartbreak.

You never intended to hurt her, not after all the work you both put into succeeding together. Music and the people you love mean everything to you, but how can both be so inextricably intertwined in this horrible predicament?

The silence screams louder than either of you ever could, and something in Mina’s face shatters. Your friendship? Her trust? You aren’t sure.

“You know what? Let’s just cool off until the gala this weekend,” Naejin says.

“We’re supposed to practice today,” you mutter. A tear escapes your eye, and Mina lets out a breath of disbelief.

“I get broken up with and you have the balls to cry right now?”

“Mina, lay off for a second,” Jeonghi interjects.

“We’ll deal with Park. Just, maybe lay low until then,” Naejin responds to you. She gives a parting nod. Jana barely looks at you as you leave, and Jeonghi says goodbye in her usual apathetic tone.

Only as you walk down the hallway and to the glass doors of the entrance do you allow yourself to sob. If only feelings could remain buried if you simply wished for them to. It would make the pain much easier to swallow if you never let them come up to the surface at all.

You think about how a nap may do you some good until you run into Vernon. He says your name, a breathless plea, but you shut him down immediately. “I can’t do this right now.”

“I was worried when you weren’t answering your phone,” he says. He walks forwards with his hands outstretched, visibly concerned about the tears falling down your face. But you refuse. You back away every time he tries to move closer. “Can we talk, please? It doesn’t have to be now, but—“

“Hansol,” you beg, the use of his given name startling him. “When I tell you I can’t, I mean it.”

He swallows. His head turns downward, recognizing he won’t get the outcome he wants. The push and pull between your feelings about the argument with Mina and wanting to tell him you want more than anything to talk to him—do nothing with him, even—makes your stomach turn. “I get it. Just please charge your phone.”

He walks away and in the direction of the Pledis building. It would be so easy to run after him, but the frailty of your strength forces you to walk forward. There is no timing worse than right now to discuss what’s happened in the last 24 hours.

And still, the feelings in his heart could be reserved for someone else anyway. The stupidity you’d feel would grow tenfold if this situation ended with him actually not wanting you at all.

When you crack open your apartment door, you see the Skittles bag strewn on your coffee table. The makeshift bandages you used to mend your heart on your walk home in silence rip off. I fucked this up so perfectly didn’t I runs through your head on loop, the perfect lyric to describe your pain. The laminate wood flooring’s warmth welcomes you as you fall apart.

The ballroom stage is cluttered with instruments. From your vantage point backstage, you see numerous suit and ties in the crowd at their assigned tables waiting patiently as well as the young trainees. You even see all of the guys at their own table from this distance, cracking jokes and whispering quietly. Except for Vernon, his expression unreadable. He’s never been too much of an expressive guy, even less so at events. But seeing him indifferent to the people around him forces you to close the curtain.

“Mina can’t just be AWOL right now,” Jeonghi says, yanking at the strings of her dress. “God, why did they have to make us wear these poofy babydoll dresses? I feel like a baby.”

The outfit doesn’t thrill you either, but it was nice the wardrobe team dressed you all in the same white attire. Save for Mina, who’s supposed to be in a blue version of the outfit due to her title as the lead singer.

“You look great. And I think the word you’re looking for is a cherub,” Jana says.

“Babies and cherubs aren’t mutually exclusive, J,” Jeonghi bites back.

“Anyway!” Naejin cuts in. “Let’s just focus on the positives. Mina still has ten minutes. She’s probably getting final touches on makeup.”

You nod, sitting on a stool an acceptable distance away. It’s bad enough you haven’t seen any of them since that day in the studio. It was another thing if Mina did not show up on purpose. You wouldn’t blame her, though.

The only people who tried to fix your self-isolation were Jihoon and Mingyu . And 90% of their discussions with you were about how much of a wreck Vernon was. You realized it was better to avoid talking altogether. No one could pick apart your thoughts or words in solitude.

Naejin sits next to you when she grabs a spare stool. “Can I just ask a question?” You turn your head in response. “Did you really not know?”

“Naejin-“

“I mean, it seemed a bit obvious to me they wouldn’t last.”

“Nae! That’s really fucked up to say.” Jana casts judgemental eyes at the both of you.

Naejin shrugs in response. “It’s not my fault if I noticed the kid’s eyes were elsewhere.”

“For your information, guys, no,” you interject. “No, I did not know that they’d break up. As for Vernon, he’s an oaf. He could like the checkout girl at the fish market for all we know.” Naejin shakes her head, a smug smile on her face. “What?”

“Nothing, just…it’s one thing to be oblivious. It’s another to willfully hide how you feel.”

Jana stops pacing and turns to you. “Do you actually like him? Like for real?”

You look down at your hands, trying to compose the right response. “I think I always have.”

The breath that leaves you once you confess feels like the lightest air you’ve ever inhaled and exhaled. It’s the first one in a while that comes out with ease. In the next second, feeling freer, all the words come out in a rush. “But I didn’t think I could act on it with the other stuff in the way. The band, the company, all that shit. Then it was him and Mina, and she was so happy. It seemed like a sign. Like there would always be other factors involved. But, I realized it was just an excuse to pretend I didn’t feel the way I did. It made it easier, until it wasn’t.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to me back then?” Mina’s voice makes you turn your head, and the tears immediately pool in your eyes. She looks beautiful, her makeup and hair in perfect precision. But the frown on her face tells you she feels anything but. You wish the source of this fracture between the two of you didn’t stem from you to begin with.

“Don’t ruin your makeup!” Jana screams.

“So not important right now,” Jeonghi says.

Mina lovingly huffs at them before turning back to you. “I never would’ve went out with him if I knew you were feeling like this.”

“I swear to you I didn’t realize all of this until a few weeks ago.” You stand up. “I’m a dumbass with timing, I guess.”

“You are,” she agrees. Her own tears begin to turn her eyes glassy. “But I’m one too, for not realizing you hid all of this.” She sighs. “I’m not saying I’m happy right now, but you’re not the only one who kept secrets.”

“I would’ve kept them forever if I could’ve. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”

Neither of you know what to do in that moment. Friendships have survived much worse. At least, you hope so.

Of course Mr. Park decides now is the time to run backstage. “You’re on in a minute beauties!” He wipes the sweat from his forehead and runs back in the direction he came.

The other girls get on the stage to start prepping. You hold out your hand to Mina, a silent request to work on your relationship. Mina immediately laces her fingers through yours. In that moment, you’re ready to see your shared dream come true.

As predicted, the performance went without a hitch. Mina, in spite of her obvious nerves, wowed the crowd with her stage presence. The instrumental sounded perfect, to the point executives commented on the smallest details. Each one you were introduced to was excited to see Cloud 9’s impending success. Some of the boys congratulated you when you made it off the stage as well. Even Jihoon had a tear in his eye. But the one you wanted and dreaded to see was evidently missing.

You saw him during the set, but Vernon’s absence is partially a blessing in disguise. You don’t want to talk to him here in a crowded room of people you barely know. And not with Mina in close proximity either, despite the tentative peace treaty you’ve both made.

You walk out of the ballroom, unnoticed. In the familiar hallways, you find yourself heading to the studio. Maybe the piano will have some answers for you.

Of course, Vernon is sitting at the piano waiting for you.

“Not surprised you’d come here.” Vernon chuckles to himself, He swipes his brown bangs from his eyes before standing to face you.

“You know I hate crowds.” You cross your arms. Even in one of your safe space, you feel unarmed.

“How’s it feel to be on the fast-track to fame?”

You take a deep breath, a smile lingering on your lips. “Like the hard work’s just begun.”

His grin is the only spotlight you want on you after the haze of pyrotechnics and shuttering cameras. And it feels good to see it after witnessing his somber mood earlier.

“Can I just say,” he starts, “you look beautiful.”

You put your hands in front of your face. A laugh bubbles up from deep in your stomach. “You can’t just say stuff like that to me, Vernon.”

“I’ve been wanting to since that night last week,” he confesses. “So I thought I’d start with that, seeing as the first time we’ve talked in forever.”

Willing yourself to still your frantic pulse, you say, “Well you still can’t say that shit without consequences, you know.”

“And what would those be?” The curiosity in his eyes and close-mouthed grin jumpstarts your heart yet again. How was there ever a chance you could bury your feelings when he looked at you like that?

Inside this room, in the setting of the dream that jumpstarted all of this, you take the chance to finally let the floodgates open.

“Because I’ll have no choice but to kiss you. And then tell you I’ve liked you since the second you taught me to tie shoelaces one-handed because you thought it was the coolest thing you’ve ever learned. And how I admire how much you care about others before yourself. And how effortless you are at performing even though when anyone tells you that you think they’re a big fat liar. And then I’ll say maybe after realizing all of this and saying it out loud that maybe I lo-“

You don’t know what you feel first: the pressing of Vernon’s palms to your cheeks or his lips against yours. But you’re sure the feeling of his touch in reality blows both your expectations and fantasies out of the water. If the kiss in your dream felt like the fire of electricity, this one is the calmest pool you’ve ever swam in. It mends all of your anxieties, quiets all of your fears. It could make any skeptic believe that the world’s greatest power is in two mouths crashing into each other.

When you separate, your mouths still inches away from each other’s, Vernon says, “Maybe I love you too.” In a millisecond he presses his lips back to yours.

You barely remember the beginning of the day and all the emotions you harbored before walking into the studio, or all the frustration pent up inside of you from the past few weeks. The only important thing had his arms wrapped around you and all his attention on you, determined to conquer whatever happened next together.

@hyperdramas @tocupid @hursheys @slytherinshua @yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @keopihaus @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[choppersconfirmedkills]

Just Flowers

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader (Ft. Best Friend Tess)

Word Count: 1.75k

Genre: Angst, with a bit of fluff

Warnings: Arguments, Joel being Joel, slight reference to an age gap, but it’s got fluff, not proofread

A/N: Happy Valentines Day! Here’s my first Joel Fic, I’m not all that content with it, the idea I had in my head didn’t really its way onto the page but I felt I should post it anyways.

Summary: It’s Valentines Day and you just wanted to do something nice for Joel.

It’s raining… in February. You could swear that ever since the outbreak occurred mother nature decided to switch everything up, weather included. But the rain didn’t bother you all that much especially when you had what you were looking for and you were finally home.

Or at least whatever this hobble was that you and Joel shared could be considered. The wallpaper was ugly and tattered, springs were sticking out of the couch, and you were pretty sure it was rat-infested, but it was what you had. 

You tried to be as quiet as possible when entering the confines of the apartment knowing Tess would probably be over and sleeping and Joel trying to get some semblance of it. You didn’t wish to do that to them today because the truth is the two of them deserved just a little bit of peace. And luckily for you, they might have found it because the coast was clear. 

Taking off your soaked outerwear, you took a sigh of relief. Everything had gone according to your hopes, which meant that tomorrow was going to go swimmingly. You wanted to surprise them with a few things. You had grown to care for both of these people, it was supposed to be just strictly business but eventually, they became the closest thing you had to family. With Joel, it was a bit different though. You knew he was closed off and pushed everyone in existence away, but you couldn’t help but fall for the old grump. And you thought he deserved to feel a little bit of that care you had for him.

Click.

“Shit,” you turned around to see that the lamp was turned on and Joel and Tess were on the couch, staring at you. As if your parents caught you sneaking in after curfew. Which you technically did.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Tess was the first to speak, adjusting in her seat slightly.

“Uhhhh, dark?”

“You’re damn skippy it is, where the hell were you at this time of night?” She stood up.

“Oh, nowhere and everywhere,” you responded, knowing you were being difficult, but there was no way you were spilling this secret right now. It wasn’t even Valentine's Day yet.

“That’s not a good enough answer,” Tess replied moving to grab your face and scanning you for injuries and bite marks. Tess would never admit it but she had a soft spot for you, you were like her younger annoying sibling that she could never get rid of. She was taking mental notes of your figure when she caught sight of your bandaged hand. You winced, preparing for the barrage that was about to come your way. “Where were you?” she asked again.

“Outside,” you huffed. It was a vague answer but they both knew what it meant.

“WHAT?” Joel was screaming, enough to make you physically flinch. “You went outside the walls? Alone? What the hell were you thinking?” 

“Joel, would you chill out? You’re scaring her” Tess glared at him. “Sweetie, come with me. Let’s talk where grumpy can’t bother us.” Taking your hand Tess brought you out into the hallway. 

“No, but seriously, what the hell were you thinking?” She smacked the back of your head, eliciting an obnoxious yelp from you. “Outside the walls?”

“Tess, I can handle myself just fine. Plus I didn’t go far,” you countered.

“It’s not you that I’m worried about. Joel about damn near had a heart attack. I’ve never seen him like that. And your hand? He’s going to lose it!”

“It’s not a bite,” you answered looking down at the bandage.

“I know it’s not, you wouldn’t have come in the apartment if it was. You scared us both, Y/N. Just don’t do it again.” Tess sighed.

“I’m sorry. I won’t. But I do hope this makes up for it a little bit?” You smiled reaching into your pocket and pulling out-

“Chocolate?” She gasped pulling the bar out of your hand.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you smiled at her.

“How’d you even get your hands on it?”

“A lot of shifts shoveling shit, and putting up with one handsy smuggler,” you laughed, earning a scowl from her. “It’s dark chocolate so I hope it hasn’t gone bad, but I know it was your favorite from before all of this.” 

“Alright, you’re forgiven, and thank you.” She pulled you into a hug which was not something she did very often. “Now go back in there and talk to Joel. Hopefully, you’ve got some incredible sweet talk up your sleeves for this because he is pissed.” She smiled at you and walked off towards her place, leaving you to deal with the fallout of a very angry Joel.

You took one last deep breath before opening the door to your inevitable doom. 

“Are you stupid, dumb, or both?” So that’s how he was going to start this.

“Joel, I can take care of myself just fine. I did it long before you or Tess came along,” you sighed moving to look at him. When your eyes finally focused in the dark you realized, he was wet. His clothes and his hair. “Joel, did you go out there and look for me?”

“Of course I did! What else did you expect me to do? Sit here in our place and wait for you to possibly come back home?” He yelled. “What in the hell possessed you to do something so damn reckless?”

“I didn’t go far. Not even a mile outside the walls! I was out there maybe an hour tops,” you yelled back. 

“An hour is plenty enough time for you to end up dead or worse.” Bit. “Knowing you that ain’t too far off an option!”

“Are you saying that I’m stupid enough to not watch my own fucking back? I know how to survive out there! You’re not the only person in the world who can do it!” You couldn’t understand why he was so angry at you. He had no reason to be, no ulterior motive. He didn’t have to take care of you. You just worked together and were roommates essentially. And like he told you all those years ago, he won’t get attached. 

“Yes, I am. Considering you went outside the QZ, at night, past curfew, in the rain, and alone! If that ain’t stupid I don’t know what is.” He huffed.

“And would you look at that, I came out unharmed!”

“Then what the hell is this?” He grabbed your bandaged hand and held it up like it was the final clue in a murder mystery movie.

“It’s fine,” you started unwrapping it, “the bleeding stopped a while ago so I should probably take this thing off.” There it was, just a bunch of superficial cuts littered across your palm. Some as faint as a paper cut others deep enough to leave a faint scar.

“How did you possibly do that?” Joel sighed inspecting your injury. He had calmed down considerably seeing how unharmed you really were. 

“What time is it?” You asked gently pulling your arm back to you.

“2 am. Don’t avoid the question,” he nearly growled. You just ignored it, walking towards the backpack you had long since discarded on the table. Reaching in you pulled out what you had caused this argument over.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” you said facing away from him.

“Are you fucking shitting me right now? Answer my damn question, Y/N,” he grumbled, starting to get himself angry again.

“Just do it Joel, Jesus Christ.” You took his disgruntled sigh as a sign that he gave in to your ridiculous request. Being as subtle as possible you put the gift in his hands, delighting in the confused look that graced his features. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

You smiled a little watching him inspect what you gave him, but then you watched as he frowned and your heart broke a little. “Flowers? You did all that just for some fucking flowers?”

“Well, I’m sorry you don’t like them,” you scowled. 

“It’s ridiculous! All that danger for a couple of fucking wildflowers. It’s not important!”

“It is to me, Joel!” You snapped.

“They’re just flowers, for fuck sake.” 

“I know I was young when this all started, but every year on Valentine’s Day, my mother and I would go out into the yard and pick flowers to bring to my father as his gift,” you paused gathering your breath in hopes to prevent your voice from breaking, and you wore you could’ve heard him mutter ‘shit’ under his breath. “My mom used to tell me that giving someone flowers was a way to show you care and that Valentine’s Day was the perfect day to do so. So I wanted to do it for you. I don’t expect anything out of you, I never have, and I know you don’t let anyone in. I just wanted to show you my appreciation for you. Give you something beautiful in this shithole of a world.”

Joel was frozen gazing over the flowers, stuck in whatever thought process he was in. It was agony for you, floating in limbo while Joel fought a war with his thoughts. You don’t know how long it was until you heard him release the breath you didn’t even notice he was holding in. “God, don’t you ever do that again, you understand me?” He relented, pulling you into a hug, a hand placed on the back of your neck and the other on your lower back. “I thought you were gone.” 

“I don’t ever plan on leaving you, Joel,” you nuzzled into his chest, content to just live within his warmth like this.

“Now, seriously, how did you hurt your hand?” he sighed.

“Oh, I guess I forgot that a lot of these things have thorns in them. It was worth it though,” You smiled looking up at him. 

“That’s because you got me weeds,” the lightest chuckle escaped him, which made your heart burst at the seams. 

“You asshole,” you lightly shoved him through your giggles, breaking away from the hug. “They are beautiful flowers!”

“You risked your life to get me weeds because that’s what these are.” You just huffed at his commentary and tried to stomp away from him. That didn’t fly with him because he pulled you back into his embrace, holding you even tighter this time. “But thank you,” he whispered into the crown of your head, leaving a ghost of a kiss there.

[cheonstapes]

LASER TAG (various characters)

saw this on pinterest and isnsjsjesisisiaisj😊😊😊😊😊😊.

also first post omg!! lil bit nervous icl ＾＾　enjoy, feedback is appreciated!! s not proof read- it’s 5 am and i am tired🤗

wc; 500+

pairing; any char x reader

cw; gn! reader (use of princess), suggestive, dry humping, making out, betrayal, reader is shorter than character, reader being dramatic (me fr)

soft pants left your lips as you surveyed the area, bright neon lights dancing around the darkened maze. with the laser gun held tightly in your hands, you take a few steps forward, the loud music muffling your movements. you peek round the corner, a puff of air leaving your nose as you spot a figure moving closer.

he pauses- looking around lazily before his gaze settles on you. you can’t see him, your back against the edge of the wall, as he stalks towards you- a teasing smirk on his lips. you freeze as the sound of ruffled clothes nears closer, immediately jumping out from behind and pointing the laser gun at them. “hey! back the fuck- babe?” you slowly put the gun down as you stare at him, a beat passing before a mischievous smile graces your lips as you raise the gun again.

“any last words?” you smirk, head tilting. he lets out a low chuckle, closing the distance between the two of you. the gun is pressed against his firm chest as he looks down at you, eyes hooded and his lower lip tucked between his teeth. “that’s how it is, hm? not gonna give your man a pass, princess?” he leans into your face, breath fanning against your skin. his hands caress your sides, pinching at your exposed skin.

“n-not a chance. it’s a game, babe, i‘m not fucking loosing.” your words catch in your throat as his hands trail lower, teasingly brushing over the curve of your ass. he grips your plump cheeks tightly, pulling you flush against him. a wicked grin stretches his face, his hands working eagerly against your flushed skin. “mm, y’know i’ll always root for my baby, anyway.” he moves his hands to your waist, murmuring softly. “gimme a kiss ‘fore you kill me, at least.”

you roll your eyes playfully, wrapping your arms around his thick neck, pulling him down to your face. he wraps both of his arms around you, lifting you up to press you tightly against a wall, connecting your lips in a hot kiss. his tongue teases yours, hands squeezing the soft flesh of your thighs as he grinds his hips into yours. the bulge in his pants throbbed as you pushed yourself harder against him, breathy moans mingling with his grunts. saliva drips down your chins, the room suddenly feeling 100 degrees hotter as you run your hands through his hair, tugging on the strands to deepen the kiss.

he pulls away abruptly, flashing his teeth as he holds you tightly. your gun lay abandoned on the floor next to you, your eyes locked onto his- his face making you weak in the knees as he smirked down at you softly. “thanks for that, baby.” you smile, giggling as you lean into his touch. “mm, you’re welcome, handsome.”

“‘n sorry for this.” your brows furrow at his words, leaning back slightly as you look up at him in confusion. “huh? sorry for what-“ you gasp as you hear the loud *beep* that sounds from his laser gun, the light on your jacket flickering out as the announcement of your elimination rings through the room. you gaze up at him, disbelief coating your words. “you fucker! what happened to rooting for me?” you smack his chest, pouting angrily as he laughs that deep laugh of his, crossing his arms and looking down at your annoyed self. “well, it is a game, babe. ‘n i’m not fuckin’ loosin’.”

- bakugou katsuki, gojo satoru, renji abarai, eren jeager, childe, tetsuro kuroo, meguru bachira, ryusei shidou

[rinatic]

NCT: favourite positions

A/n: my first post in 3821592 years! I'm very sorry guye for not posting but i kinda have writer's block + college shit because I'm a junior and I'm literally regretting choosing my major omggg 😭 anyways i decided to post something before the year ends and it's slutty asf lol anyways I'm apologizing again for not posting for too long :(

Johnny

One on bed, one standing - this hoe.. he feels powerful when he's having sex in this position, holding you by the waist and just jamming his dick inside you like you're gonna run away. Johnny definitely likes to have sex with eye contact so he can fuck up all your senses, he also loves watching you squirm and tear up as he's rearranging your insides with his dick, he's very much all about control and sensuality.

Taeyong

69 - he seems like a switch to me but is more into being the sub one, i see him liking to have his girl's pussy on his face, it stimulates him so much and it's even better if she rocks her hips and move it on his face. He LOVES oral. Having you going down on him and hin doing the same at the same time is just so hot, and you two receive equal pleasure together, he likes it when oral is used for more than just foreplay.

Yuta

Doggy style - i will forever see yuta as a huge dom and i won't believe otherwise, my boy likes to assert his dominance even when it comes to positions. I see him manhandling his girl, throwing her into the bed, in all fours, grab her waist and puts it then he just moves like he didn't have sex in years, if yuta wants to fix positions during sex he won't tell you to, instead, he'll move you according to his mood. I see him using one hand on your back to bend it down and make your ass higher while the other hand is holding your jaw roughly to force you into looking at his lustful eyes.

Doyoung

Spooning - having your bare back against his chest, his hips smacking your ass while he's kissing your neck is what doyoung is about. He likes this position because he can hold and feel your boobs and it won't feel awkward, he also seems to enjoy hitting it from the back, also the ratio of your bare back to your waist and hips is just a huge turn on for him. He definitely won't be able to think of anything else.

Jaehyun

Reverse cowgirl - he'll be like "do it yourself" and pretend he's to be lazy while he actually wants to see how you would look riding him this way, and he doesn't want his expression to give it away lol so he asks you to ride him like this, he's enjoying the sight of his dick going in and out of you. It gets pretty intense and he loses control near the climax so he grabs your hair with one hand and the other is wrapped around your waist.

Jungwoo

Against the wall - when he's feeling sexy and confident, jungwoo will show you this shamless side of him and push you against the wall, holding your hips firm in his hands while adjusting his body so his cock can enter your pussy with no trouble, you're forced to hold onto the wall while he jams his dick inside you and his pretty lips spreading kisses all over your jaw and neck.

Mark

Legs over shoulders - mark is a horny bastard, and he lets you know. He loves your legs, he's such a thigh guy but i really can't explain it. Having your legs over his shoulders while his dick is all the way inside you is heaven to him. His hands keep leaving pink marks on your thigh from holding it harshly, he bites your things and licks the soft skin on your legs while looking down at you.

Haechan

Missionary - this cocky whore.. haechan is a romantic at heart + he wants to see how he makes you feel so the best position for his desires is missionary, he grabs both of your hands and puts it above your head so you won't be able to touch anything. He likes seeing you this helpless and vulnerable. Also lemme tell you that the intense eye contact almost never stops, it is always passionate with this hoe.

[pandorasfavorite]

Kinky smut after reader acts like a brat on RAW

Influenced

AN: NOT ME WRITING REQUESTS FROM MONTHS AGO LMAO. Sorry lovelies.....

AN: I'll probably finish this...but I had to post something yo

Dominik wasn't a demanding boyfriend by any means, honestly, he was really kind and patient. He never asked much of you, so when he did you complied. You originally didn't have the desire to test Dominik's dominance ever, because he's already so good to you there's no need for him to prove anything. However, after falling into a rabbit hole on social media, you were influenced. There were hundred of posts and stories of women being "bratty" toward their sweet boyfriends. Each story ended well...

You were dressed up and ready to go interrupt the beginning of Monday Night Raw. Dominik was wearing his black gear (that drove you wild) and a shirt draped in front of his pants. From the moment you walked in the dressing room Dominik's expression lit up. His arms fell open and he completely neglected the conversation he was in before. You approach him and give him a quick hug and a peck on the lips. You are an inch apart from him, smiling up at him and grabbing his hands in yours. "Hey babe, you ready?", he looks over your outfit (his tongue slides over his lips quickly). You bat your eyelashes at him and hum as an answer.

You drop one of Dominik's hands and your eyes focus on the shirt that is hanging in front of his pants. It annoyed you a bit how he covered up the thing you liked looking at... you smack the shirt and it flies up. "Why are you wearing this?", you question him in a displeased voice. Dominik notices the attitude in your voice and you smacking the shirt was out of the blue -- even for you. Dominik furrows his eyebrows a bit at the behavior but lets it go un-noticed. He simply just grabs your hand in his and brings it to his mouth to kiss.

You pull the same hand out of his grasps again and you smack the shirt again, scowling at the useless thing. Being a brat was fairly easy when you had something to not like. This time though Dominik wasn't as happy, his face pulls into the sexy angry frown that shows so often on TV. He taps your cheek with his finger in order for you to look up at him, "Stop that".

"Stop what?", you smack his shirt one more time, just cause. Dominik grabs your wrist lightly, pulling it away from the shirt. "You know what cut it out. I'm serious". You stop, for now, the best way to work his nerves is to continuously stay on top of this. To calm him down you lift up to kiss his lips, and his body relaxes instantly. His hand finds its way to the back of your head pulling you in for a deeper kiss that makes your stomach do flips. He pulls back with his boyish grin and holds your hand as he walks out the door with you.

-------------------------------------------------------------

It's important to note that Dominik (while he is very patient), he is a very jealous man. All his patience flies out of the window when the jealousy filters in. In fact, his jealousy is so bad some nights after Raw he has to push you up against the wall and shove his fingers inside of you just to hear you moan his name. You were going to take advantage of that weakness to get what you want, after all it's the easiest way.

All 5 of you step out into the darkness with your heads down, then the lights turn on. Every night you fight the urge to squint your eyes from the blinding light. Dominik's arm is around your waist and he takes you with him, every step of the way. It was a 3 v 3 match with the boys against another group of three. You and Rhea were positioned outside of the ring to make an appearance and distract the ref if it came down to that. As the match started so did your bratty behavior...

One of the opponents was looking at you from his spot on the outside of the ropes, you waved to him with a seductive smile. Dominik watched the interaction and his face was downcast in anger, so much so his knuckles were turning white from the grip he had on the ropes. His eyes followed you as you skipped around the ring, and interacted with fans in the front row. You were always the most friendly out of all the members of the group.

Again the same guy was watching you, sizing you up, and he went as far as motioning for you to come up to him. Dominik is radiating heat and he is scowling without the desire to hide it, Damian notices the interaction and he instantly taps him in. Dominik walks around the ring and points to the guy that you were 'flirting' with. The rest was history. Dominik starts with the guy not letting up on any of his hits. You could tell even after the match was won and finished Dominik was righteously heated. He met you in the middle of the walk way and instantly thrown his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side so he could kiss your head while he was looking back at that stupid guy.

Though he may not seem all that mad to the blind eye, Dominik's clenched jaw and screwed-up face say otherwise. After a short goodbye the Judgement Day dispersed in different directions, leading to Dominik steering you into the Judgement Day dressing room that you know so well. He opens the door for you and then shuts and locks it behind him rather loudly. He runs a hand down his face before taking a step closer to you. Your chests are on the verge of touching and Dominik's hands are twitching as if he's itching to take action. But he'd never do anything without having a conversation first.

"What was that out there?", he takes a heavy breath trying to speak calmly towards you. "What do you mean?", you bat your eyelashes and feign innocence. Dominik's head tilts back and he chuckles at the blatant disregard for the obvious, "You know what you were doing out there, don't pretend you don't". His chest is puffed up and he's looking at you with such displeasure but his eyes say something different. His gaze is intense and makes your legs feel wobbly. Honestly, it's making you a bit nervous and it's intimidating in a way you didn't mind embracing, "I don't know what you're talking about" you squeak out.

Dominik acts fast; pulling right up against him by the belt loops. His lips are hovering just over yours and you can feel his deep breathing of frustration fanning across your cheeks. "Say it", he said in a deep raspy command, the words sent a shock down to your core. Your heart is racing out of your chest and if it wasn't for the desire you were feeling in that moment, Dominik would have to scoop you up off the floor. You raise your chin up in defiance at him, crossing your arms over your chest, "Make me".

Dominik's hands fly to your waist and he spins you around, pushing your body with the back of his to move you forward. He walks you over to the back of the couch and bends you over it by the waist. His hands then brush your hair to one side of your face, now he has a perfect view of your star-struck expression that he yearned for. Dominik leans in close to you, his teeth now poking out as he grins, "You've been a brat all fucking day", he recalls. He pulls your pants down to your mid-thighs, just enough for him to spread your legs a bit and slip two fingers inside of you.

The moment he pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them inside of you every time your breathing picks up, you feel your legs shake. His fingers are soaking wet and knuckle deep inside of you, and the tent in his pants only gets more defined when he hears the squelch your pussy makes. Your wetness was beginning to drip down the side of your thighs and Dominik mentally had to block out the idea of getting on his knees and licking it up, so nothing goes to waste. You hum in delight at the increasing feeling that you loved approaching, Dominik noticed your tell tales and refused to hide the fact that he knew.

"You really think you're going to get to cum? After acting like a brat all day? Just because you wanted to be my cock slut". You gasped at the filthy words flying so carelessly from his mouth, but also from the way he spits directly on your cunt after pulling his fingers away. You try to reply but your words come up short as you feel his large hands sliding down the back of your thighs. His skilled hands pull your thighs apart even further so he can have room to bring his face directly against your pussy. The feeling of his nose bumping against your clit and his smile that you so clearly can point out has you moaning out to him, "Baby please- m'sorry". You gave in, being a brat was hard when your man knew how to please so well.

You feel the way he laughed and shook his head in disbelief, he completely ignores you and swipes his tongue through your puffy folds. His tongue thrusts inside of you, working out the tension of you clenching around him.

AN: when my writing is shit but I have to provide like a good mother..