#taking bets for .01 seconds

[hyunjins3rdleg]

🍸 What’s Your Poison?🍸

Hi,I’m A—Jay! Nice to meet you,honey🩷

• Bbygirl of ‘01

• March🌷Pisces Princess

• Somehow managing to work a big girl job in the real world of the USA

Just vibin’ & thrivin’ on my new little blog sharing my cute little ideas with cute little strangers.

(That’s you, babe. You’re the cute stranger💋)

*Hwang Hyunjin bias based!*

(But you’ll see me reblog all the boys!!)

Join me for Happy Hour Gossip!

I’m open to request or a chat if you’d like to giggle,rant,or cry with me!

*Request:fake text(predominately),drabbles,au prompts,etc(I have more time for shorter fics)

*I will not write member x member or poly(just not into that,sorry)incest/step siblings, taboo/hardcore themes, include the members’ real life family, and I will politely decline your request if it’s something I am not comfortable with writing or speaking on :)

*Stray Kids are real people & therefore everything below is completely fictional. This doesn’t reflect who they truly are in any way, shape, or form. I am not trying to misconstrue who they are in real life.

Don’t forget to touch grass,babe <3

✨Everyone’s welcome at Stay’s Bar✨

(especially my fellow Black stays🤎)

**MDNI & SFW Rules**

Minors(16+)are free to interact with my blog as long as you keep it cute & appropriate.

*SFW* Fics are safe for the younger stays and will usually only have profanity listed as the main warning.

*MDNI* Fics are self explanatory and should not be interacted with unless you are 18+

Keep it cute or get blocked <3

Angst⛈️/🌩️; Fluff🧸; Smut/Suggestive🔥

FWB!Hyunjin Text Series 🧸⛈️🔥 (MDNI)

A late night text accidentally sent to one of the artist you’re working with leads to a half a year long agreement and Hyunjin wants more…

(fwb to lovers)(IdolxMusic Producer!Reader)

Before You Ruined My Outfit? 🌩️🧸 (SFW)

Han Jisung is your childhood best friend and his attempt at playing Cupid goes horribly wrong somehow thanks to Hyunjin…

Fix Your Face, Please! 🧸🌩️ (MDNI)

Hyunjin’s very vocal about how jealous & possessive he can get, and although it can get troublesome you find it kind of hot…

We Were On Break!! 🌩️🧸 (SFW)

Your ex boyfriend, Hyunjin, has a hard time accepting the end of your relationship and is very persistent on getting back together…

Corporate Gang 🧸 (MDNI)

JYP Co. gets a new IT-Agent and you can’t help but gush about him to your favorite coworkers…

(Nerdy,shy!Hyunjin Series)

Take Your Friends Out ⛈️🧸 (pt.1 ) (MDNI)

Your boyfriend has stood you up 3x this month and you decide that you’re done with being second place. Of course he disagrees…

Don’t Say That To Me ⛈️ (pt 2.) (MDNI)

Months after you took Hyunjin back you have to face the tough reality of falling out of love with him and end things for good…

Stress Induced Fever 🧸 (SFW)

Your job has decided to transfer you to their USA branch for a year and Hyunjin is failing miserably at holding himself together before you leave…

Sad Nudes? 🧸 (MDNI)

You’ve had a shit day and Hyunjin tries his best to cheer you up thousands of miles away…

I Love You. Now Date Me! 🧸🌩️ (SFW)

Your bestfriend has been jokingly telling you he’s in love with you for years only for you to find out it’s not a joke…and oh yeah, he HATES your boyfriend…

Babe, I Broke It 🧸 (SFW)

Hyunjin broke your brand new coffee mug and he’s taking it harder than you are (soft bbyboy)…

I Really Like You, Like Romantically 🔥🧸(MDNI)

Your best friend asks you for an insane favor of helping him lose his virginity and discovers his feelings in the process…

I Will Win! Fighting!🔥🧸 (MDNI)

You and Hyunjin make a friendly bet to survive No Nut November and despite his persistent confidence on winning, he eventually gives in…

Emergency Contact ⛈️ (SFW)

You and Hyunjin had a mutual breakup over a year ago, but apparently he forgot to remove you as his emergency contact and feelings are revisted…

Safe,Loved,& Accepted ⛈️ (SFW)

Bang Chan has been making light of the nasty comments you’ve been getting online until you are put in a sticky situation and he’s worried sick a thousand of miles away…

Have You Always Been This Hot?? 🔥🧸 (MDNI)

Attempting to survive No Nut November with your best friend Chan brings forth feelings neither of you knew existed…and really good sex…

I Just Want To Help ⛈️ (SFW)

Your ex Hyunjin takes it upon himself to help you with financial difficulties after months of no contact, but he never expected you to fight him every step of the way…

Wanna See It Up Close? 🔥🧸 (MDNI)

You always jokingly try to convince your best friend to get laid and he jokingly tells you to take his virginity (except it’s not a joke)…

I Hate You. All Of You. 🌩️ (SFW)

A sneaky picture brings your relationship and trust crashing down and he refuses to let it all go over a stupid misunderstanding….

Keeping Secrets 🌩️ (SFW)

Felix’s antics leaves Hyunjin an over dramatic mess and it takes an entire week before he confronts you about the secret you’ve been hiding…

Is This A Trick Question? 🌩️🧸 (SFW)

It’s not a secret that Hyunjin’s perusing you romantically, but despite returning his feelings your past relationship holds you back. Little did you know Hyunjin was just what you needed to try at love again…

Model!Hyunjin Text Series 🧸🔥(SFW/MDNI)

At the height of his career, Hwang Hyunjin goes down the road nearly every 24 year old with fame in the public eye does - sex, money, and rebellion. You accepted a job set up by his parents to get his reputation and career back on track, and you’ve known no peace since thanks to your very clingy (and unashamedly in love) client…

(ModelxAssistant!Reader)(grumpy gf,sunshine bf)

[sugawarassoulmate]

no nut november - nov 01

didn't even make it past the first day. they didn't even try.

(let's pretend i didn't get sick and that this was posted on november 1st 🥲)

bokuto & bully!osamu

word count: 255 & 295

cw: fem!reader, unprotected sex, pussy slapping, name calling, bullying, minors dni

bokuto

there was no way bokuto would go a whole month without busting his load, let alone inside you.

he failed as soon as the clock struck midnight

the two of you got drunk at a halloween party and barely made it to an empty bedroom before ripping off each other's costumes.

"bo, you're ripping my dress," your whines quickly turned into gasps of pleasure when bokuto's warm mouth latched on your breast.

“can’t help myself, birdie,” he says when you’re finally bare in front of him. “been wanting this all night.”

the second bokuto feels the warmth of your cunt around his cock, he forgets all about the stupid bet he spoke about with his friends just a few hours ago.

"so you have to go the whole month without busting a nut," one of his friends said over a beer. "no jerking off and you absolutely can't fuck your girl."

bokuto remembered the idea sounded fun, a test of his endurance even but the look on akaashi's face told him he was full of it

"there's no way you'd last a day, let alone a month," he said to which bokuto immediately took offense.

"i could totally last a month!" he huffed but the second he saw you in your angel costume, his only mission in life was to bury his cock so deep inside you he can't think.

once the post-nut clarity hits, bo realizes he has to let his friends know he lost and he immediately gets roasted in the group chat.

bully!osamu

lol there's no way osamu could hold out that long

suna brought it up a few days ago with a knowing glance in osamu’s direction

osamu doesn’t like to lose bets and almost thought about going through with it but why should he be deprived of life’s pleasures?

then again he could make you suffer too, bring you to the end and never deliver

osamu tried it, the thought of teasing you was too much fun for him

but when he finally had you under him, fingers against your clit, that you're whining starts

"there ya go bitchin' again," he says, slapping your cunt to reprimand you as if he isn't rock hard in his sweats at this very moment.

"samu!" you cry, staring up at him with those stupid doe eyes, welling up with tears because he's just being so mean to you

there's only one thing that stops you when you're like this, and osamu's more than happy to give it to you

"ya want dick that badly? is that it?" he says pulling his cock out, sliding it against your cunt

your cries stop when he finally sinks himself into you, both of you gasping

and samu isn't one to hold back, not with you at least, fucking you hard and deep until your cumming around him in no time (all those thoughts of edging you leave his head)

for a brief moment, osamu actually thinks about not cumming in you (or on you) and taking part in the stupid bet but then he feels your legs wrap around his waist he quickly decides it's not worth it, flooding your cunt with his seed

it isn't until halfway through the month osamu finally tells everyone he lost on the first day 🥴

©sugawarassoulmate 2023 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[kentobb]

⊹₊⟡⋆ The Bet ⊹₊⟡⋆

Ryomen Sukuna x Female Reader x Gojo Satoru

⊹₊⟡⋆ Masterlist ⊹₊⟡⋆

Warnings: Suggestive content.

Chapter 01

You’ve always known your place in the world.

The quiet one. The overachiever. The nerd. Your identity is a sum of academic accolades, a steady stream of perfect grades, and the quiet approval of teachers and professors. They praise your dedication, your punctuality, and your sharp mind. Students tolerate you. You’re useful when group projects roll around or when someone needs last-minute homework answers. Beyond that, they keep their distance.

You don’t blame them. Socially, you’ve always been… lacking. You’re an introvert through and through. Conversation is a hurdle, and parties make you feel like a fish flopping on dry land. But the truth is, you’ve made peace with your solitude. Better to exist on the sidelines than risk rejection by stepping into the spotlight.

It’s a routine you’ve mastered. That is, until Ryomen Sukuna walks by.

You’re moving through the bustling college hallway, textbook clutched tightly to your chest, when the loud voices of the football team cut through the air like static. You don’t have to look to know who they are. The athletes. The popular ones. The untouchables.

But there’s one voice that stands out above the rest, one figure who naturally commands attention.

Sukuna.

The moment you see him, your stomach twists in a way you hate. He’s impossibly good-looking, with sharp features, smoldering eyes, and a smirk that seems permanently etched onto his face. His confidence radiates off him like heat. Girls adore him. Professors cut him slack they wouldn’t dream of giving anyone else. Even guys can’t seem to hate him, not entirely.

He’s everything you’re not. Charismatic, magnetic, popular. And the worst part? He knows it.

You grit your teeth and keep walking, eyes fixed on the linoleum floor. You’ve spent years trying to squash the stupid crush that sprouted in high school, but it lingers like an old scar, refusing to fade. You hate how your heart skips whenever you see him, hate the way your palms grow clammy at the sound of his voice.

Because guys like Sukuna don’t notice girls like you.

The bell rings, slicing through the chaos of the hallway. You quicken your pace, weaving through the thinning crowd until you reach your finance class. It’s your sanctuary. Numbers make sense to you. Spreadsheets and formulas are puzzles you can solve, a language you speak fluently.

You settle into your usual seat—second row, third desk from the left—and arrange your notebook and pens in neat order. The classroom fills up slowly, the buzz of conversation a low hum in the background.

Dr. Aramaki strides in moments later, his presence commanding as he sets his leather briefcase on the desk. He’s a seasoned professor, his gray hair and sharp eyes giving him an air of authority. He launches into the lecture without preamble, writing “Investment Risk Management” on the board in neat, precise handwriting.

You’re already scribbling notes when the door creaks open.

“Sorry, prof. Practice ran late.”

The voice sends a jolt down your spine.

Ryomen Sukuna saunters in, his duffle bag slung lazily over one shoulder. His damp hair glints under the fluorescent lights, and the faint scent of cedar and mint wafts your way as he passes by.

Dr. Aramaki doesn’t even flinch. “Take a seat, Sukuna. And next time, try to be on time.”

Sukuna grins, unbothered, and scans the room. To your horror, his gaze lands on the empty desk behind you.

He sinks into the chair, the legs screeching against the tile. Your heart pounds as his presence settles behind you, a tangible weight.

You try to focus on the lecture, but every movement he makes—every creak of his chair, every muttered comment to the guy beside him—distracts you. You feel his eyes on the back of your head more than once, and it takes everything in you not to turn around.

Then, a light tap on your shoulder.

You freeze.

Slowly, you glance back. Sukuna is leaning forward, his notebook blank in front of him, a pen dangling loosely from his fingers. He flashes you a grin, all teeth and effortless charm.

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “What page are we on?”

Your brain stutters. For a second, you forget how words work.

“Uh…” You clear your throat, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. His eyes are brighter up close, twin embers smoldering with something unreadable. “Page eighty-four.”

“Thanks.”

He smirks again, and you whip back around before he can say anything else, your cheeks burning.

The class feels like it’s dragging, and for once, your meticulous note-taking has been replaced by idle doodling. Your pen sketches swirling patterns along the edges of your notebook, a habit you’ve developed over the years to keep your nerves at bay.

Dr. Aramaki finishes a particularly dry explanation on risk assessment, then clears his throat, his voice cutting through the hum of the lecture hall.

“Alright, everyone. Listen up,” he says, taking a clipboard from his desk. “For this project, you’ll be working in pairs.”

Excited whispers ripple through the room as students glance around, already scouting for partners. Your shoulders relax slightly. People rarely rush to partner with you, so you’ve resigned yourself to whoever’s left.

“Don’t bother,” Dr. Aramaki announces, raising a hand to silence the room. “I’ve already assigned the pairs.”

The collective groan that follows is almost comedic.

You, however, are relieved. Group projects always devolve into awkward negotiations, and you’d rather avoid the hassle. At least this way, you can stay in your lane.

Dr. Aramaki begins reading off the list, his tone matter-of-fact.

“Gojo and Nanami.”

You hear Gojo’s delighted laugh and Nanami’s deep sigh of resignation. It doesn’t take a genius to guess how that partnership will go.

“Geto and Kawahara.”

The list continues, and you focus on your doodles, trying not to overthink. Whoever you’re paired with can’t possibly be worse than—

“Y/L/N and Sukuna.”

The words hit you like a slap.

You freeze, your pen hovering mid-air.

This can’t be happening.

“Keep in mind that this project is for the end of semester and it’s 80% of your grade.” Dr. Aramaki emphasized.

Your heart sinks as your mind scrambles for an explanation, a way out, something. But no. Dr. Aramaki has already moved on, and Sukuna, seated behind you, doesn’t even flinch.

The rest of class is a blur. You force yourself to act normal, though your hand trembles slightly as you scribble in your notebook. Doodles multiply along the margins, aimless swirls and stars filling every blank space.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of the lecture, you’re the first to start packing up. Your goal is simple: leave before Sukuna says anything.

But, of course, the universe isn’t that kind.

A light tap on your shoulder stops you in your tracks.

You turn to find Sukuna standing there, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. He looks you up and down, his gaze lingering a second too long, and then he says the words that make your brain short-circuit:

“Are you Y/L/N?”

Your jaw tightens. You stare at him, utterly dumbfounded.

How does he not know you? You’ve known him since middle school, sat in the same classrooms, attended the same schook events. It’s impossible to miss someone like Sukuna. Yet, here he is, looking at you like you’re a stranger.

“Yes,” you say flatly, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice.

“Cool.” He nods, completely unbothered. “Give me your number so we can figure this project out.”

The request is simple, but your brain struggles to process it. For a moment, you consider asking if he’s serious—if he really doesn’t recognize you—but you stop yourself. What’s the point?

Wordlessly, you pull out your phone, avoiding his gaze as you hand it over. His fingers brush against yours briefly as he takes it, and even that small contact sends a jolt through you.

Sukuna types in his number, then hands the phone back. “There. Just text me or whatever.”

“Okay,” you manage, still feeling like you’re caught in some bizarre dream.

“Thanks.” He slings his bag over his shoulder again, turning toward the door. “See you around or something.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

The interaction lasts less than a minute, but it leaves your pulse racing like you’ve run a marathon. You glance down at your phone, where his name now sits in your contacts list, and something twists in your chest.

You tell yourself it’s just nerves, nothing more. He’s just your project partner.

But deep down, you know that’s a lie.

Sukuna stepped out of the classroom, his expression as unreadable as ever. The hall buzzed with activity, students heading to their next classes or hanging out by the lockers. His eyes landed on his teammates near the far end of the hallway, bickering as usual. He sighed, making his way over, already sensing trouble brewing.

He reached his locker, tossing his duffle bag inside, and glanced sideways at the chaos unfolding next to him. Nanami stood stiffly, his arms crossed like a parent scolding a child, while Gojo leaned casually against a locker, a picture of indifference.

“I’m telling you, Gojo,” Nanami says, his tone tight with frustration, “you need to step up and actually contribute this time. I’m not doing the entire project alone again.”

Gojo leans casually against the lockers, sipping a drink with an infuriating grin. “Relax, Nanami. I bring more to the table than you think.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Nanami snaps.

“Uh…” Gojo says as he thinks.

Nanami glares. “How about actual work?”

Nanami’s glare darkened, but before he could retort, Gojo glanced at his watch and straightened. “Oh, shoot! Gotta go! My Spanish exam starts in five minutes.”

Nanami raised an eyebrow. “You studied for it, right?”

“Si,” Gojo said confidently, giving him a thumbs-up.

Nanami sighed. “¿Eres idiota?”

Gojo paused, tilting his head in confusion. “Uh… biblioteca?”

Nanami groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as Sukuna chuckled under his breath. Gojo, completely unbothered, threw up a peace sign and sauntered down the hall, leaving chaos in his wake.

“God help him,” Nanami muttered, shaking his head.

Sukuna smirked. “What’s he even doing in Spanish class?”

“Who knows?” Nanami replied.

The two stood in silence for a moment before Nanami turned to Sukuna, his usual frown softening slightly. “So, who’d you get paired with for the project?”

“The nerd,” Sukuna said flatly, rummaging through his locker.

Nanami raised an eyebrow. “Y/L/N?”

Sukuna glanced at him, closing the locker door. “Yeah. You know her?”

Nanami stared at him like he’d asked if water was wet. “Seriously? She’s been in our classes since middle school.”

Sukuna shrugged, unbothered. “Don’t remember.”

Nanami shook his head. “Of course, you don’t.”

Sukuna leaned back against the lockers, arms crossed. “What’s the deal with her? She some kind of overachiever or something?”

Nanami rolled his eyes. “That’s an understatement. She’s the reason the grading curve exists. You’re lucky to have her as a partner. She’s a workhorse. Unlike me, who’s stuck with…” He grimaced. “…someone who thinks ‘Google Docs’ is a streaming service.”

Sukuna chuckled. “Tough break.”

“Tell me about it.” Nanami smirked faintly before glancing at Sukuna. “You wanna switch?”

Before Sukuna could respond, a voice cut in, sharp and amused. “Switch? Nah, Sukuna’s not switching.”

The two turned to see Mahito sauntering up, his signature grin plastered on his face. Behind him was Jogo, his presence as calm and collected as Mahito’s was chaotic.

Mahito leaned lazily against the lockers, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Sukuna doesn’t need to switch. He’s got a system, right?”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “What system?”

“You know,” Mahito said, smirking wider. “Your whole thing. Flirt with your group partner, flash that charming smile, get into her pants, and voilà—she does all the work for you.”

Nanami sighed heavily, his disapproval radiating off him. “Doubt is working with this one.”

Mahito turned to him, mock surprise on his face. “Why not? It’s worked on every other girl.”

“Because she’s different,” Nanami replied simply.

“Different?” Sukuna repeated, his voice sharp with irritation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Nanami met his gaze steadily. “It means she actually takes her work seriously. She’s strict, focused, and won’t put up with your nonsense. And, quite frankly, you’re not on the same level… socially.”

The words hit like a bomb.

“Damn, Nanami!” Mahito howled, clutching his stomach. “Straight for the throat!”

Jogo chuckled quietly, shaking his head.

“Not on the same level?” one of the other guys echoed mockingly.

“Different social levels! Down bad, Sukuna!”

“Boo! Sukuna, you’re slipping!”

Sukuna clenched his jaw, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. His glare swept over the group, but Mahito wasn’t done yet.

“You know what?” Mahito said, his grin turning cruel. “I bet you won’t even make it through the project without her tearing you a new one. Forget hooking up with her. She’s out of your league.”

Jogo smirked, arms crossed. “I’ll take that bet. $100 says he can’t.”

The hallway erupted in laughter and jeers as Sukuna’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Shut up,” he snapped, slamming his locker shut with a little more force than necessary.

Jogo raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “What’s the matter, Sukuna? Afraid you can’t pull it off?”

Sukuna turned to him, his smirk dark and sharp. “Fine. You’re on. But when I win, I don’t want excuses.”

Nanami groaned audibly. “This is a terrible idea.”

“An amazing idea,” Mahito corrected, grinning from ear to ear.

As Mahito finished his jab, his laughter echoing in the hallway, the sharp sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the noise. The group turned as one to see Geto standing there, his imposing figure leaning casually against the wall. His dark eyes swept over them, calm yet commanding.

“What’s going on?” Geto asked, his tone even but edged with authority. His confusion was evident, though his calm demeanor gave nothing away.

The air shifted immediately. The teasing and laughter died down as everyone averted their gaze, falling into an awkward silence. No one dared to speak up, suddenly reminded of their captain’s presence.

Nanami, who seemed completely over the entire ordeal, sighed heavily. “They’re children,” he said flatly, brushing past Geto without so much as a second glance. “I have better things to do.” With that, he strode off toward his next class, leaving the rest of the group frozen.

Geto tilted his head slightly, watching Nanami’s retreating figure before turning his attention back to the remaining guys.

Mahito gave a half-hearted shrug, but even he didn’t have the nerve to add anything under Geto’s scrutiny.

Geto straightened up and addressed the group. “Practice is at 7 p.m. sharp. No excuses. Don’t make me hunt any of you down.” His gaze lingered on Mahito and a couple of others, making them shuffle uncomfortably.

Finally, his attention landed squarely on Sukuna. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he stepped closer, his presence radiating authority. “And you,” he said, his voice dropping slightly, “don’t be late. Last time was strike one. You’re not getting a strike two.”

He didn’t wait for Sukuna to respond, deliberately brushing his shoulder against Sukuna’s as he passed by.

Sukuna stood still for a moment, his jaw tightening as he watched Geto walk away. The guys around him stayed quiet, their eyes darting between Sukuna and the captain. Sukuna could feel the tension lingering in the air, but he refused to let it show.

“Who does he think he is?” Sukuna muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

Mahito smirked, but the others stayed silent, knowing better than to stoke Sukuna’s temper further.

Sukuna’s fingers curled into fists for a moment before he relaxed, shoving his hands into his pockets. He couldn’t wait for the day he became captain—when he’d finally put Geto in his place.

“Practice at seven,” Geto’s voice echoed from down the hall, as if to punctuate the moment.

Sukuna scoffed, slamming his locker a clang.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

the right wrong number

pairing: pre/no outbreak!joel miller x soccer coach!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6k

summary:

When Joel receives a dirty text from an unknown number, he gives into his curiosity and messages back.

He doesn’t expect the number to belong to his daughter’s summer camp soccer coach.

dear reader:

this work is a request and a birthday gift for my sweet baby @mydailyhyperfixations , who’s been one of my biggest supporters since i started posting my work on tumblr. ily, and i hope you love the fic! special thanks to @cutesyscreenname for helping me with some lil details to finish this surprise. support and mdni banners by @saradika

content warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age difference (undefined, but references are made), pre/no outbreak!joel miller, identity porn, wrong number au, sexting, dom/sub dynamics, use of ‘sir’, pet names, praise, thigh riding, semi-public sexual activity, spanking, safe word discussion, dirty talk, p in v. let me know if i’ve missed any!

Unknown Number: I had a really good time at dinner tonight!

Joel stares at his phone in confusion. It’s past midnight and he’s been sitting on the couch nursing a beer and watching Indiana Jones. He’s been in the same spot since Sarah went to bed a couple hours ago. His phone beeps again.

Unknown Number: It’s too bad we didn’t have time to visit Noir.

Joel raises his eyebrows. Noir is a bar in downtown Austin known for its calendar of speciality kink events. He’s seen it come up in his Google searches of local bars and had considered going to an event or two but never worked up the courage. His kinks remain between him and his porn search history.

Unknown Number: Wanna see what you missed out on?

[Photo 01.jpg]

Curiosity gets the better of him and he clicks on the image attachment. He nearly drops his phone when a photo of a woman fills his screen, sweet curves hugged by black lace on white sheets. He should absolutely tell her that she has the wrong number. His fingers type across the screen.

Damn, seems a shame something that gorgeous is going to waste.

Unknown Number: Who says it has to go to waste?

Joel swallows nervously. He’s already hard in his jeans, cock pressing urgently against his pants. He palms himself, trying to collect his thoughts.

Unknown Number: I’m feeling a little needy over here.

[Photo 02.jpg]

Against his better judgment, Joel opens the second photo and has to bite back a groan at the image of the woman’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of the panties, fingers hidden from sight behind lace and silk.

You want me to tell you how to play with that pretty pussy?

Joel squeezes his eyes shut as he presses send. This is a colossally stupid idea. This is a stranger, and he’s not the intended recipient of these messages.

Unknown Number: I’d really like that, sir.

Fuck it, Joel thinks. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Start by circling those fingers over your clit. Nice and slow.

And when you feel like you could cum, I want you to go even slower.

Unknown Number: It’s too slow. I want more.

Be patient, baby. And aren’t you forgetting something?

Unknown Number: Sorry. I want more, SIR.

Joel presses a hand to the bulge in his jeans, the pressure offering little relief.

Now don’t start being a brat, sweetheart. You won’t like the result.

Unknown Number: Oh yeah? What would you even do?

I’d love nothing more than to bend you over the edge of the bed, ass ready to be spanked red.

Unknown Number: Fuck, that would feel so good. Bet your hands would feel amazing marking me up.

You still being a good girl and following my instructions?

Unknown Number: I think I forgot. Could you remind me, sir?

You’ll have to ask more nicely than that.

Unknown Number: Could you *please* remind me, sir?

Joel runs a hand over his beard before reaching for the forgotten beer on the coffee table and taking a swig.

You’re supposed to be teasing yourself for me. Nice and slow.

I want you to pinch your nipples until they’re nice and tight, too.

Unknown Number: Like this?

[Photo 03.jpg]

Joel bites his lip as he opens the third photo. You’ve got your bra pulled down to expose your nipples, hard and perfect and begging for his mouth. He unbuttons his jeans, tossing his phone on the couch only long enough to shimmy the denim down his thighs and free his leaking cock.

Just like that, baby. Such a good girl for me.

Unknown Number: Are you touching yourself, too, sir?

Of course I am, baby.

Unknown Number: Can I see, sir? Please?

Joel’s hand falters as alarm bells blare in his head. He should absolutely not open his camera. And he should definitely not find the perfect angle that doesn’t show his face. And he certainly should not grip his cock around the base, holding it steady as the shutter sounds and a new photo is saved to his camera roll.

No. He shouldn’t do any of that.

[Photo 04.jpg]

Unknown Number: God, your cock would feel so good in me right now.

Joel’s right hand moves at a steady pace up and down his length, left hand fumbling to type a reply.

Why don’t you fuck your little fingers and pretend it’s me, then?

Unknown Number: Won’t fill me up nearly as much, sir.

Be a good girl and follow my directions, baby.

Unknown Number: [Photo 05.jpg]

He opens the photo and his cock pulses in his fist. She has her underwear shoved to the side, two fingers plunged into her glistening pussy. His mind reels with an image of this faceless woman writhing on the bed reading his words, thinking about his cock stretching her open and he has to bite his lip to just keep the responding moan trapped in his throat.

Unknown Number: Can I cum, sir? Please?

Since you asked so nicely, yes. Make yourself cum for me, sweetheart.

Joel sets the phone aside on the couch, closing his eyes as he pumps himself with a tight fist while he imagines your desperate pussy clenching around your fingers. He cups his palm over the head of his cock as his release hits him like a freight train, hips flexing from the couch to chase the lingering sensations of ecstasy from his hand.

He stands, pulling his pants up without bothering to fasten them so that he can wash his hands in the kitchen sink. Guilt settles on his shoulders as he dries his hands with the dish towel while he stares at the couch where his phone is lit up with another message from a stranger he had no business seeing that much of.

He approaches the couch and sits with a sigh, running a hand over his face before picking his phone up to read her message:

Unknown Number: Easily my best orgasm. Hope it was for you, too. Don’t be a stranger xx

Feeling like an asshole, Joel deletes the thread and the wrong number for good, but it’s fine.

It’s not like he’ll ever meet her, anyways.

——————

You’re on the phone with your best friend, telling her about how the last guy you went out with about a week ago, a guy named Jeremy you met on a dating app, still hasn’t reached out to you again despite what you’d thought was a successful date.

“So he just never reached out to you after you sexted him all night?” She asks. “Men are so weird.”

You cradle the phone between your ear and shoulder as you zip up your duffel bag of equipment. It’s the beginning of June and the summer soccer intensive camp for junior league starts today. You’ve got a full registration for the girl’s 13-15 division and you’re excited to get back on the field and help these girls do their best in a sport you love.

“Nope. Maybe I came on too strong? I don’t know,” you reply.

“You did come strongly. At least, that’s what you told me,” she says with a laugh. “Well, that’s too bad. Maybe you’ll meet a hot dad coaching this year.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not fucking someone’s dad.”

“Never say never, babe.”

“I gotta go find my damn cleats. I’ll talk to you later,” you tell her.

“Fine, I expect a full run down of every DILF you meet today.”

You hang up as she laughs, tossing your phone into your personal bag that you keep separate from the gear before you go in search of your cleats from your room.

——————

Joel and an over-excited Sarah sit in the parking lot of the soccer field that her summer camp is being conducted at, ridiculously early at Sarah’s insistence because she didn’t want to be late on the first day. They’re the only car in the parking lot so far, having apparently beat even the coach, and Joel sips at his travel mug of coffee in the hopes that it grants him energy.

Another car pulls up and parks beside his truck, loud music blaring from the open window. Sarah waves excitedly.

“That’s the coach,” she explains.

Joel watches you get out of your car and pop the trunk. You start pulling out bags of soccer balls and stacks of orange cones, bags of agility equipment and strength training aids. He opens the door to his truck and jogs over.

“Hey, you need any help with that?” He asks. You look over at him in surprise, eyes wide.

“Oh, uh, sure. That would be great,” you reply.

“I’m Joel Miller, and this is my daughter, Sarah,” he says, gesturing to the young girl. She gives a little wave and he extends a hand out to you.

You give him your name, shaking his outstretched hand. “Y’all are a little early,” you reply, hefting a bag over your shoulder.

“My dad’s always late but I didn’t want to be late for camp,” Sarah says. Joel narrows his eyes at her.

“Not a problem. You can help me set up the cones,” you tell her. His daughter gives you a bright smile and he almost forgives her for throwing him under the bus. “I’ll grab these two bags, you grab the cones, and Mr. Miller, could you grab the balls, please?”

Joel fights back his childish laughter at your request, grabbing the bags as instructed. “Just Joel, please.”

You smile at him and he feels a bit blindsided by how it makes his heart beat faster, his palms a little sweatier. You’re very pretty, fresh faced and ready for a day of work, wearing one of those quick dry workout shirts that clings to your curves and a pair of shorts that show off your strong legs. Some traitorous part of his brain wonders what it would feel like to have those legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Alright then, Just Joel. Let’s go.”

——————

“Thank you for the help,” you tell Sarah’s dad. You’re trying very hard not to let your eyes linger on the bulge of his biceps or the broad expanse of his back as he sets down the two bags of soccer balls and places his hands on his hips.

He’s a handsome man, older than you by at least a few years, with tan skin and dark hair and kind brown eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles at something Sarah says. His daughter has the same brown eyes and olive skin, her dark curly hair pulled into a bun.

Of course the first parent you meet this summer is a hot dad. It’s like you’ve spoken it into the universe.

“Not a problem. Glad I can be useful if I’m goin’ to be here this early,” he replies with a narrowed glance at Sarah, who is suddenly very interested in the stack of cones she carried to the field. “Anythin’ else you need me for?”

“Let me get you the game schedule and contact sheet.” You open your bag and pull out your folder of materials you like to give to parents, assembling a stack of papers for him. “On top you’ve got the emergency contacts sheet. Fill that out with your contact information and an alternate’s information, too, just in case I can’t reach you or someone else needs to pick Sarah up. You’ll want to have Sarah bring that back tomorrow.”

You flip the page. “The second page is just a welcome letter. It’s got my phone number on it, feel free to text or call if you have any questions or if Sarah can’t make it one day.”

“And then last we’ve got the camp schedule. The girls will have two tournament days where they’ll play against some nearby summer camp leagues. You can sign up to bring a snack by filling out the piece at the bottom. Do you have any questions?”

“I don’t suppose I do. You’re very organized,” he says, taking the packet from you. You can feel your cheeks heating.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Well, I gotta finish setting up.”

“I won’t get in your way.” He calls out to Sarah and the young girl runs up to give him a hug goodbye. “Be good. I’ll see you later.”

——————

Joel Miller is the first at the field in the mornings helping you set up for the day and last parent to leave at pick-up, after he’s loaded your trunk up with the equipment, wiping the sweat from his brow as he grins at you.

His daughter is a great player, quick on her feet and smart as a whip, picking up the footwork skills you teach like they’re second nature. You’re telling Joel as much Friday afternoon in the second week of camp when Sarah bounds up and asks if you want to get ice cream with them.

“That’s a great idea, baby girl,” Joel says before you can decline. You blink at him and he gives you that lopsided grin that’s been giving you butterflies since the first day on the field. “But if you order mint chocolate chip, you’re buyin’ it yourself.”

“Good news, I’m a plain ol’ chocolate kinda gal,” you tell him with a laugh.

“Me, too!” Sarah says.

“I’ll follow you guys,” you suggest. Joel gives you a quick nod, herding Sarah into his truck and taking off toward town.

You follow them to a little ice cream parlor, the kind that sells old fashioned sundaes and thick milkshakes with red and white striped straws. You park beside them, watching as Sarah hops from the truck with a wide grin on her face and her dad comes around, slinging a strong arm over her shoulder and pulling her close. Your heart feels warm looking at them.

Once inside, Joel and Sarah end up ordering a sundae to split while you get a small cone of chocolate ice cream. You try to tell Joel not to pay for you, but he hits you with a look that has your mouth going dry, any argument disappearing as all your blood rushes south and makes you ache between your legs.

“I’ll go get us a table outside,” you offer, licking at your treat. You don’t miss the way Joel’s eyes track the path of your tongue.

You watch the busy foot traffic while you wait for the Millers to join you, the warm Texas air wrapped around you while you enjoy the slight breeze and your cold dessert.

A deep voice calls your name and you look around, finding a familiar face on the crowded sidewalk.

“Jeremy, hey. How are you?” You ask as the man approaches. It feels like forever ago that you went to dinner together and looking at him now you think he’s handsome but he doesn’t hold a candle to Joel.

“I’m good. Been busy. I gotta say, I was a little bummed I didn’t hear from you after our date. Thought we had a good time,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

“Didn’t…hear from me?” You ask nervously.

He tilts his head. “Yeah. Thought you said you would text me when you got home.”

“Uh…yeah. Sorry. I guess I just forgot.”

The bell dings above the door to the ice cream parlor, Joel and Sarah emerging with a sundae piled with whipped cream. Jeremy looks toward them, then back at you.

“I’m guessing another date is off the table?” He asks, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.

Joel looks between the two of you, brow furrowed as he sets the sundae on the metal table and Sarah takes a seat, digging in immediately.

“Jeremy, this is Joel and his daughter, Sarah. She’s in my soccer camp this summer. Joel, this is my friend Jeremy,” you introduce. Jeremy holds a hand out to Joel, who shakes it briefly, brows still pinched.

“I better get going. Nice seeing you, let me know if you want to get together again,” Jeremy says before turning to leave. When you glance at Joel, his shoulders are drawn up and jaw clenched tight as he stabs his spoon into his ice cream.

“What do you guys have planned this weekend?” You ask to break the silence. Sarah perks up and begins to tell you about how her Uncle Tommy, Joel’s brother, is taking her to a local carnival. You listen and nod along despite the fact that your thoughts are stuck on Jeremy’s words.

If it wasn’t Jeremy on the other end of your conversation that night…who was it?

——————

As the three of you walk back to your vehicles, Joel’s still thinking about that man who’d been talking to you at the ice cream shop and how it made his blood burn hot to hear him mention going on a date with you. His pulse pounded in his ears as he shook the guy’s hand, any information about the guy going right over his head. He didn’t even taste the ice cream or hear the conversation you and Sarah had about the weekend, lost in his thoughts about how between early mornings helping you prep for camp and late afternoons at pick up have all somehow allowed you to burrow into his heart.

A hand wraps around his bicep, halting him in his steps. He glances at your concerned face and suddenly all that tension leaves him in a rush. Sarah says her goodbye, hugging you around your waist before hopping into the truck, leaving the two of you alone.

“You okay?” You ask, taking a step closer.

“I’m great, sweetheart. Get home safe,” he says, eyes dipping briefly to your mouth. Your tongue pokes out, tracing your lower lip. He takes a step back before he’s tempted to lean in and chase the taste of chocolate and you.

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“Bright and early.”

——————

Sarah spikes a fever Sunday night and spends the night curled around the toilet while Joel coaxes some water into her and keeps her hair out of harm's way. When it seems that the worst of her nausea has passed, Joel leaves her to rest in her bed while he goes downstairs and grabs the contact list you’d given him at the beginning of camp.

He starts a text, letting you know that Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp, at least for today. When it’s sent, he heads back upstairs, armed with a sleeve of crackers to deliver to his daughter.

Maybe he can squeeze in a little bit of sleep for himself.

——————

Hey, it’s Joel. Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp today.

You stare at the text, mind reeling. Not because a parent is texting you, that’s pretty common and you hope Sarah is doing okay, but because you already have a thread with Joel.

One where you’d called him sir and told him his cock would feel so good inside of you because you’d thought you’d been texting Jeremy. Your cheeks feel so hot you worry spontaneous human combustion could actually be a thing.

What are you even supposed to do in this situation? Do you tell him about it?

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Oh, also, you’ve sent me a picture of your dick.

You delete the last line immediately, hitting your phone against your forehead like doing so might make your thoughts make sense.

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Any chance you can make good on that promise and bend me over the bed?

You delete the last line again with a groan.

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. There’s something I want to talk to you about. Would you be able to meet with me after practice this week? Or sometime this weekend?

You hit send before you can back out, tossing your phone in your bag as you get ready to head out the door.

——————

Joel wakes later in the morning and reads your text message. His mind races with what you could want to talk to him about. Maybe you noticed how he reacted to your friend and wanted to tell him you’re uncomfortable? Or maybe something to do with Sarah?

Fuck, he thinks, scrubbing a hand over his face. He reads the message a few more times but it doesn’t reveal any additional clues. He types out a message, pressing send before he can overthink the contents.

She seems to be doing better. Should be back to camp tomorrow. I can meet you somewhere for dinner on Friday after camp? My treat.

——————

Joel’s text plays on a loop in your brain for the rest of the week. Unlike the previous weeks of camp, he and Sarah don’t show up early. In fact, he’s been dropping her off almost at the last minute and picking her up promptly when camp ends, always managing to show up when you’re already pulled into conversation with another parent and driving off before you have a chance to talk with him.

On Friday, Joel is at the field early, leaning against his truck as he talks to Sarah. You park beside them, and he helps you unload your car and set up for the day, just as he had the weeks prior, making small talk like he hadn’t just spent the week dodging you after suggesting dinner. When everything is unpacked and Sarah is kicking a ball around, you follow Joel to his truck under the guise of needing one more thing from your car.

“Hey, are we still on for dinner?” You ask him. He runs a hand through his hair and you try not to let yourself zero in on the way his bicep flexes with the motion.

“‘Course. How ‘bout I meet you at that diner downtown? The one with the—“

“All day breakfast?” You finish. Joel grins.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Is six good?”

“Six is great.” You smile back at him, lost in the way his eyes crinkle in the corners and his mouth lifts slightly higher on the right.

“Coach!” Sarah yells, making you jump.

“Guess I better get out there,” you say, shifting nervously.

“Yeah, I’ll uh…I’ll see you later?” He asks.

“Looking forward to it.”

——————

To your surprise, it’s not Joel that picks up Sarah that afternoon, but another man with familiar brown eyes and dark curly hair. You grab your folder from your bag as Sarah greets the man, flipping through the pages until you’ve found her emergency contact form.

“Hey there,” the man says, a grin lighting up his face. “I’m Sarah’s Uncle Tommy.”

You shake the hand he’s held out towards you and introduce yourself. “Nice to meet you. Mind if I check your ID for alternate pick up?”

“Go right ahead,” he replies, pulling a worn brown leather wallet from his jeans and handing you his ID from its contents. “Don’t judge the photo, alright? It’s old.”

A younger version of the man in front of you is pictured on the card, his curly dark hair buzzed short and a grim expression on his face. You note the name THOMAS MILLER beside the picture and check it against Sarah’s emergency contact form.

“Thanks, Tommy,” you tell him, handing back the ID. There’s a brief silence where Tommy seems to be assessing you.

“So…,” he says, rocking on his heels, “you’re the girl that’s got Joel all tangled up, huh?”

You blink. “Uh—“

“Uncle Tommy! Let’s go!” Sarah shouts from the parking lot.

“Hold your horses!” Tommy yells. He gives you one last knowing smirk. “Have fun with Joel tonight!”

You watch him jog over to the truck and get behind the wheel, Sarah waving at you as he pulls out of the parking spot. You wave back, but your mind is stuck on Tommy’s words, the implication of them having your stomach doing backflips.

——————

Joel’s fingers fidget with the straw wrapper, ripping it into small pieces that build in a pile on the laminate table while he waits for you to arrive for dinner. He’s still not sure what this is all about and that uncertainty has had him stuck in his head to the point where Tommy was giving him a hard time at work about it.

“Let me know if you need me to stay with Sarah overnight,” Tommy had said as Joel checked himself in the hall mirror one last time before leaving the house.

“It ain’t like that,” he grumbled back, but there was no changing his brother’s mind.

“Sure, you keep tellin’ yourself that.”

The bell above the diner door rings with a new customer, pulling Joel from his thoughts. You’ve just walked in wearing a dress, a far cry from the soccer shorts and t-shirt he’s seen you in every day this summer. His gaze is pulled to the tantalizing glimpse of your chest he gets from the deep neckline and the way the fabric swishes against your thighs as you approach.

“Hi,” you say, sliding into the booth across from him. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Sure,” Joel says, giving you what he hopes is a confident smile but he’s almost certain it’s more of a grimace.

A silence settles over the table as you both look at the laminated menus like they hold the secret to the universe. The waitress swings by and takes your orders - chocolate chip waffles for you and a medium rare burger for Joel.

“How’s Sarah doing with the camp?” Joel asks.

“She’s doing great. Easily one of the best players I’ve got this year,” you reply.

“Good that’s…good. You used to play for UT, right?”

“Yep, starting forward until I tore my ACL,” you tell him. “Now I coach because you can take the girl out of soccer but you can’t take the soccer from the girl.”

“That’s impressive,” Joel comments. “Is coaching your full time job?”

“No, I work in marketing for an instrument production company.”

“Really? You play anything?”

“Some guitar, a little piano. Nothing crazy. Do you?”

Joel laughs. “Been a while, but I got a guitar stashed away in a closet somewhere.”

The waitress returns with your food, setting the plates in front of you and asking if either of you need anything else before leaving the two of you to your meals.

Joel is a few bites into his burger when you set your fork down and say, “Look, I’m just gonna come right out and say it. You’ve sent me a picture of your dick.”

Joel nearly chokes, sputtering for air around his burger and grabbing his Coke, desperate for relief. He chugs the beverage, tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” You ask, wide eyes full of concern.

“No, I’m not okay, what do you mean I’ve sent you a picture of my dick?” He hisses, looking around the mostly empty diner.

“About a month ago I went on a date with that guy I ran into at the ice cream place, Jeremy? We met on a dating app so we were messaging through there and he gave me his number at the end of the night,” you say quickly. “And I texted the number with some…racy photos. And messages.”

Joel feels the rising panic in his chest. No, there’s absolutely no way that random number could have been you. There’s no way he sexted his daughter’s soccer coach.

“I didn’t find out it was you until you texted me about Sarah being sick. I still had the chat with your number,” you finish, reaching into your bag and pulling out your phone. Joel watches with building dread as you tap on the screen and set the phone on the table, sliding it toward him.

You’ve opened the chat with him, the innocuous messages at the bottom about Sarah missing camp giving way to photo attachments he doesn’t dare click on but remembers vividly. He looks up at you.

“I…I’m so sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have replied, the messages weren’t meant for me.”

“I’m not mad,” you assure him. “A little embarrassed, maybe. But also…can I be completely honest?”

“Of course.”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your messages.”

Joel’s mouth drops open in surprise. “You…really?”

“Yeah. And knowing it’s you…,” you say, voice trailing off. Your eyes are dark, a little smirk playing on your lips that has Joel’s cock twitching with interest. “Well, that makes it better.”

“It does?” Joel asks. You nod, picking up a bite of waffle with your fork, a moan of appreciation leaving your lips.

“It does,” you confirm.

Joel turns around in the booth and flags down the waitress.

“Check, please!”

——————

After paying for dinner, Joel walks you to the parking lot, his broad palm on your low back directing you to where his truck is parked.

He’s got you pressed against the passenger door, his chest grazing yours with each breath he takes. He lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip. His gaze grows dark as you dart your tongue out, flicking it against the digit.

“Such a fuckin’ tease,” he says. Gone is the man who was mortified to find out he’d been sexting you and in his place is the man behind the screen. “You wore this little dress because you knew exactly what you wanted, isn’t that right?”

“Maybe,” you murmur. “You don’t like it?”

“Mm,” he hums, “Ain’t a matter of not likin’ it, trust me.”

His hands grip your hips, the fabric bunching in his fists as he moves a thigh between your legs. The sudden friction of his jeans, even through the barrier of your underwear, has you gasping.

“Joel,” you whimper, grinding over the muscle of his thigh. He kisses along the length of your neck, lips right over your racing pulse. “Come on, take me home.”

“You can ask more nicely than that,” he says, hands guiding the movement of your hips, forward and back, across his thigh. You moan, louder than you intended, too loud for the parking lot of a busy diner at dinner rush.

“Please, sir,” you whisper. “Please, take me home.”

“Cum on my thigh and we can leave,” he replies. “Leave a nice little wet spot on my jeans and then I’ll take you home and make you scream my name as loud as you need to.”

Joel’s lips capture your own, swallowing the curse that was ready to spill from them at his demand. His kiss is rough, demanding, his stubble scratching your skin and his tongue tangling with yours as your hips continue to rock over his leg. You dig your fingers into his hair, holding tightly to him while the knot of need in your belly tightens.

“Come on, baby,” he says when he lifts his head, lips still pressed to your neck. “Make a mess, come on.”

You go still in his hands as your orgasm washes over you, your muscles stiff as your pussy pulses desperately over his thigh. Joel pulls you in for another kiss, this one slow and sweet to bring you back to reality.

When you’ve caught your breath, he steps back, adjusting the skirt of your dress back over your thighs. He looks down at his pants and then back at you, a smirk on his handsome face. You look down, face heating with embarrassment as you notice the dark patch of denim.

“Get in the truck, baby.”

——————

You give Joel directions to your apartment, his warm hand on your thigh the whole way there. Your nerves are buzzing beneath your skin again, the effect of your first orgasm wearing off and your desire building rapidly with each mile closer to your apartment.

He parks in the visitor parking and you move to open the door, but a tan arm reaches across and tugs it shut. Confused, you watch Joel jump from the truck and jog around to the passenger side to pull open your door and hold a hand out to you.

You’re laughing as he helps you from the truck and shuts the door behind you, your giggles persisting as you lead him upstairs and his arms circle your waist while you try to unlock your door. He hustles you across the threshold, kicking the door shut behind him and flipping the deadbolt.

“Bedroom?” He asks.

“End of the hall,” you reply.

Joel pulls you along behind him, a man on a mission. Once inside your room, you flip on your bedside lamp and Joel steps in close, framing your face in his hands and giving you another kiss that has the butterflies in your tummy going wild.

His fingers are curling into the hem of your dress, dragging it up your body and breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over your head and toss it to the floor. His lips are back on yours while his hands map your curves, calloused fingers catching on soft skin and making goosebumps erupt in their wake.

“Get on the bed,” he commands. You turn, crawling onto the mattress slowly, a wiggle in your hips. You look over your shoulder at the older man and find his gaze fixed on your ass. He grins. “You remember what I said last time you teased me?”

“No. I think I need a reminder,” you tell him. He huffs, shaking his head.

“Teasin’ me and gettin’ mouthy? Think that might earn you a punishment.”

Joel palms the cheeks of your ass, pulling them apart in a rough grip that has you gasping his name. His fingers dig into the flesh, the ache of them already making your head spin.

“Five ain’t enough, but it’s all I’ve got the patience for right now,” he says. His tone changes as he asks, “You got a safe word? If I need to stop?”

“Apricots,” you say easily. He tilts his head. “It’s from a TV show. New Girl?”

“Never heard of it,” he says. “Alright, apricots it is.”

He pulls your panties down, leaving them around your thighs. His thumbs spread you apart and the vulnerability of this position, your ass in the air and everything spread for him, by him, has you feeling like you’re on fire.

“Pretty little pussy,” he murmurs. “But I already knew that. Because you’re a dirty fuckin’ girl who sent me pictures just because I told you how to cum. Ain’t that right?”

“Mhm.”

An open palm lands on your right ass cheek, hear blossoming on the spot as you gasp, lurching forward. His hands pull you towards him and he presses down between your shoulder blades, your back arching.

“Don’t move,” he commands. “That was one. You count the next one.”

Another smack across your other cheek, more sharp pain that shifts into dull ache as you mumble, “Two.”

He doles out two more in quick succession, each other making your pussy clench with need. You’re drooling into sheets, a whimpering mess as he runs his fingers through your soaked folds and lets out a deep groan.

“Baby, you’re soaked,” he says. “Fuck, one more, okay? One more and then I’ll have you wrapped around my cock.”

You nod your head, bracing for the final blow across your sensitive skin. The sting of his palm as it lands makes your eyes roll back, the line between pleasure and pain so blurry you don’t know which side you stand on.

His hands leave your hips and without the support, you slide flat to your belly. Distantly, you register the opening of your nightstand drawer and the sound of Joel rummaging through the contents, followed by the muted thump of clothes being discarded to the floor.

Joel maneuvers you to your back in the center of the bed, pulling your panties off. “You did so good, sweetheart,” he praises. You smile at him.

“Do I get a reward now, sir?” You ask.

“‘Course, baby. Good girls get what they deserve.”

His hips press between yours, his cock sliding through your wetness and catching on your clit. He positions the thick head at your slick entrance, pressing in the slightest bit. You take in the sight of him, his broad chest held over you by strong arms, the muscles of his neck tense.

Joel slides in slowly, your body accepting him gratefully. The stretch borders on painful but the fullness has you digging your nails into his back, a moan falling from your lips. It feels like ages before his hips as flush to yours and all you can feel is Joel Joel Joel.

“Fuck,” he groans, forehead dropping to yours. “Christ, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

He pulls back slightly, thrusting forward with a sharp snap of his hips. As he starts to set a rhythm, he sits up on his knees, lifting one of your legs up with a hand on the back of your thigh and pressing it to the side. The position opens you up further, letting him get impossibly deeper, and all you can do is allow him to use your body to his liking.

It’s not long before you’re screaming his name, as promised, the knot of pleasure in your core pulling tight and getting ready to snap.

“You gonna cum again for me?” Joel asks, breathing labored as his pace doesn’t falter. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock. You’re such a good fuckin’ girl, I know you can do it.”

“Joel!” You shout, that last thread snapping as your orgasm rushing through you, stars bursting behind your eyelids as they snap shut with the force of it all. Your pussy clenches around him, his hips stuttering and growing sloppy until he’s pressing in deep with a groan of your name.

He collapses on top of you, a heavy weight but not an unwelcome one as you both try to catch your breath, sweat cooling between you. After a moment, his softening cock slips from your body and he rolls to the side, gathering you to his chest.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Joel whispers back. He sits up, leaning over the edge of the bed and grabbing his jeans, pulling his phone free.

He taps on the screen and brings it to his ear, a distant ringing audible through the speaker.

“Tommy? Yeah, everythin’s fine,” Joel says when his call connects. He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Could you stay with Sarah tonight? Shut up,” he grumbles. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll be back in the mornin’. Thanks, brother.”

Joel hangs up and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“You’re staying?” You ask.

“Yeah, baby. I ain’t finished with you yet,” he replies, pressing a flurry of kisses to your face, neck, and shoulders, sending you into a fit of giggles.

——————

1 Year Later

“Alright, great job, girls! Let’s get your snacks,” you shout as your summer league girls jog towards you from the field following their third tournament game.

The girls crowd around the cooler that Joel’s prepared, grabbing small bottles of Gatorade or water and a bag of orange slices. They lounge around the sidelines and you step up beside Joel, bumping him with your hip.

“Thanks for the snacks,” you say. He grins at you.

“‘Course. Gotta take care of my girls,” he replies. He pulls one last bag of oranges from the cooler. “And one for coach.”

“How’d I get so lucky?” You ask, looping an arm around his waist.

“What can I say? You texted the right wrong number.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

[biteyoubiteme]

okay okay okay!!

txt vs no nut november! and maybe single / with a partner and regular sex life

like, would / wouldn't participate (and why), how long it would take for them to lose (if lose at all, I look at you taehyun), why they would lose (idek, forgot, were too stressed, too horny, etc)

would there be a member who would be like "I'll cum at 0:01, november the first, and will enjoy the whole month looking at you all suffer, losers"?

ahhhh now I think of requesting yeonkai x reader about nnn...

txt v. no nut november

warnings: 🔞!!! gn!reader, mentions of masturbation/sex, cockwarming, edging, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 0.7k total

an: hiiii @apeachty you're my favorite because you can read my mind on exactly what I want to write next lol I don't know if I got everything you asked for but I hope you enjoy!

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

taehyun .ᐟ

if you didn't think taehyun was winning I don't know what you're on but it's just known that he would hold out the longest. If he did lose it was because the clocks had just turned to midnight when he finished effectively ending his need to even participate in a game he knows is arbitrary. This does not mean that he doesn't still try because he loves a challenge. Will spend more time in the gym because of it but he will never complain. The guys will make fun of him saying he's not even in the game anymore seeing as he failed first, will actually go on into the first week of December just to prove a point.

beomgyu .ᐟ

Now I don't think beomgyu is very competitive about most things and if he is it's only because of teasing and needing to prove people wrong. But November is his time to shine. He will actively encourage the other’s partners to tease the boys just so that he can ‘win’ the bet. Will make it through the month but the end is an absolute struggle, suddenly he's getting boners left and right like he's a teenager again. The last day of November is the day he breaks. Technically all the other boys have already lost if you look past taehyun going past November. This is his excuse and doesn't even make it through the morning before he's cumming. By the end of the day, he is three orgasms down and doesn't even care about winning the title besides the fact he can joke about it until next year.

yeonjun .ᐟ

He tries so hard and wants to beat beomgyu because he is his only real competition. Actually masturbates a lot and just edges himself because he likes teasing and the ache it gives him. Avoiding his partner as if that will help anything, his imagination is just well enough. Only makes it a little more than halfway through the month before he's given up. He's not able to stay away from his partner and needs them too much to stop himself. Although he tries to just edge himself again, cockwarming only works until he's absentmindedly thrusting, cursing when he accidentally finishes. Just shrugs and goes another round this time without even feeling sorry. 

kai .ᐟ

Doesn't even remember that he's not supposed to be having sex, and doubly doesn't remember not to cum. He lasts a few days max and only because hadn't been near his partner. But as soon as they come near he's a needy mess, begging to get off because he just missed them so much. Remembers the last second about the group chat and the threats of having to pay for everyone's dinner if he's first to lose. Feels like a failure for only a second before shrugging just glad he doesn't have to worry about it anymore. Promises to win next year even if it's the last thing he does.

soobin .ᐟ

Talks big talk about winning but forgets exactly how often he finishes in a month. Will put himself into a bad mood and it's only been a few hours into November 1st. Has to avoid opening certain apps because he knows his feed will be evil and show him exactly what he wants to see but can't use to get him off. Surprises himself by even making it through the day only not really because he's got his hand down his pants only an hour before midnight. Cums multiple times and doesn't even bring it up that he's lost, actually lies about still holding out until he confesses to Kai that he too did not last long at all. “No, it was actually torture, the only thing I could think about was getting off and wondering exactly where you guys would pick to eat and if it would be that crazy to just send my card info in the chat to get it over with,” 

He and Taehyun have a full back-and-forth that lasts longer than it should about who should give their card to the waiter. The very serious debate ends after the laughter from the other boys is so loud people are looking their way. Soobin grumbles as he pays but knows it's only fair because he technically did lose first. He also knows that he was only a minute shy of actually finishing at midnight before the day even started for their competition and would have ended up paying anyway because unlike taehyun he would not have just continued the competition but would have just given up without even trying. 

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Overachiever

—

Time Written-12:01 a.m.

Jason Todd/fem!reader smut (gave up looking for an image for this guy so yea)

—

Faint blotches of muted blues and crooked gray shadows shroud your closed eyes, your heartbeat drumming in your head. Loud, thick gurgles ring in your ears, forcing all thoughts from your head.

Short, guttural grunts erupted above you. The sting along your scalp from a fistful of hair being clutched helped control your involuntary speed, coming to a sudden halt.

“I said,” his voice breaches through your muddled mind. “Keep those eyes open.”

On demand, you do so. Your watery eyes opening to a blurred vision of him; a rugged, sweat dampened mess, still clad in his leather uniform.

His hand eases off the back of your neck, allowing you to pull yourself off his fat, curved cock with a loud, lung expanding gasp. You cough after short chokes, a mix of spit and thick precum dribbling down your chin, seeping in between the valley of your breasts through your own suit.

“Look at you,” Jason huffs, guiding his heavy cock again to press against your glistening lips, feeling a sparkling pride over your ruined makeup.

“Pretty little whore. Y’see that?” He questions, guiding your head with his free hand to gaze down at him in question, focusing on the faint ring of bright red lipstick marking a good three quarters along the length.

“You’re getting better at this, Princess,” he breathlessly chuckles, tapping your outer cheek with his drenched dick.

“Bet your throat hurts, huh? Be honest.” His question has you nodding without much thought, feeling the muscles in your neck tingling after getting bullied and bruised by an eagerly horny vigilante.

“Tsk tsk. New hole’s just getting used to me, sweetheart,” Jason cooes with highly detectable mockery before leaning down, grasping your chin with two fingers to have you look at him, taking in his crinkled, amused expression.

“All that big talk when you’re stealing shit, now you got nothing to say.” After a condescending chuckle, Jason traps you in a hot, tongue heavy kiss, feeling himself throbbing at the sounds of your measly little whimpers.

“Aww, What’s the matter? Too fucked out already?” He whispers in between short pecks, swiping off a hint of spit along your chin before bringing it towards his lips, sucking the digit clean.

“Maybe it’s a little too much for ya,” Jason insists in a second guess attempt, fighting back a smirk from your growing eyes loaded up with denial. “Bit too big for you to take—“

“N-no!” You insist, your once balled up fists reaching up to grasp along his wrists. “I can do it, I know I can. Please, Jay.”

“Easy, easy. Fun’s barely starting, babygirl.” Jason displays his full smile, sharp teeth making an appearance with his chuckle.

Alongside pride, he was still giddy that he got you to agree to this.

“I know you wanna make me happy. Know you wanna earn your little reward.”

A hot, gushy load down your throat became your solid priority in an instant. Jason had that ability to suddenly render you absolutely starving in seconds, manipulating you into wanting what hadn’t come to mind before.

Your answer was a solid nod, eyes glowing in anticipation to further please him. His heavy palm clasps your throat in a snug hold, holding your head in place. His voice is low, quiet and lustful, but you hear him loud and clear.

“Tell you what,” Jason proposes with a quirk in his brow. “You take all of me; every last inch, an’ I’ll give you what you want.”

Eagerness leaves you automatically agreeing; pretty, kiss swollen lips with a pretty pink tongue eager to lap at the fat bead that threatened to drip off his length.

“That what you want, pretty girl?” He questions. “Want to make me happy? Wan’ me to make you come?”

You feel your whole body heating up from the fire that's burning deep inside you; your pussy painfully untouched and drenched. Jason promised he’d give you what you wanted if you played along in being a pretend thief, the motivation keeping you barely stable as it is.

It was like your brain was hard-wired to urge him towards his release. Or, maybe the mix of arousal and oxygen deprivation swirling around in your head was making you more submissive to set your own desires aside for him.

Eagerly nodding was your only form of answer, but Jason would gladly take it.

“Prove it then,” His hands leave your neck and head, settling them back along his sides. “Show me.”

Adjusting your sore knees against crooked gravel, you greedily lap up the fat, clear bead of precum that called your name, the saltiness drowning your tastebuds.

He lets out a short groan, brows furrowing slightly as he watches a bit of himself disappear between your lipstick smeared lips. His hum rumbles low in his chest as you bob your head back and forth at a steady pace, swirling along him with your tongue.

He's quickly drunk off of your persistent eagerness to please him, peering up at him through wet lashes. You were more focused on his reactions, watching his head slightly raise, threatening to tilt back if he wasn’t so stubborn to watch every second of it.

You looked a gorgeous sight already as you changed direction, pressing your glistening lips along the underside of his heavy cock, feeling the majority of his heavy dick rest along your face, settling against the corner of your cheek, nestled beside the small grove of your nostril.

A perfect picture to capture the memory, if it occurred to him to pull out his phone. His obedient, needy girl eager to please whenever he needed you.

He's panting harder now, shoulders rising quicker with his slightly labored breathing.

“Ready?” He had the decency to ask, waiting for your muffled hum in response before grasping hold of himself.

“Open.”

You obey, sticking out your pretty tongue.

“Eyes on me,” he taps the fat head along the muscle at least three times, too impatient to warn you of what happens if they close.

His hips lurch forward, sliding himself deep in your throat with a relieved groan. He fills your mouth up easily, his tip pushing past something hard in your throat until he's blocking your airways. You try to settle your reflex, nearly choking on him at the start.

Your soaking wet lips slowly passed where you last reached, your nose brushing against thick curls at his base, taking in his musk while choking on cock, hooking your fingers over the tight harnesses securing his meaty thighs.

You furrow your brows, trying your best to keep your throat from rejecting him, but you're not able to hold him there for long before you choke.

The vibrations left him shivering, watching spit bubble from the corners of your mouth, dripping slowly down your chin and neck, disappearing down your constricting suit zipper.

“That’s it,” he grunts, his head tilting back in pure, raw pleasure, feeling his balls tighten with every constrict of your throat as he fucks your face.

Maybe it was his fault, getting off on your vile, arousing gags, your sickly gray tears rolling down your ruined face. The ultimate ego boost, nothing could ever top this.

You could've cared less of the mess you became, focused on him and his pleasure alone. His deep, aggressively hot tone serenaded through your brain like melted dark chocolate, leaving you addicted for more.

A rich, heavy moan left his mouth, vibrating through his chest as his head tilts back, Adam’s apple bobbing with thin beads of sweat as the nightly breeze bats against his shivering skin.

The sight of those gorgeously shiny lips clenching along the base of his drenched dick left him teetering on the very edge, your eyes watering from the sheer size of him being a bit too much for you to take.

Jason raised you higher up on his cock, nearly forcing your buckling knees off the ground.

The sounds that came from your pretty little mouth as you reached your limit, forcing you to take more than you were used to were vile and filthy, but he loved every second of it. A private symphony just for him alone.

“Nice and messy, babygirl,” Jason rasps out, glancing down at your flushed face with heavy lidded eyes.

“Gonna clean up that messy little pussy,” he murmured through heavy panting, reinforcing his interlocked fingers behind your head. “Then fuck those wet tits next.”

[ylangelegy]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ take my word for it ♡︎ jeonghan.

── .✦ jeonghan uses futureme.org to schedule send you e-mails until june 25, 2026. here are some of them. ⋮ happy hannie day, everyone! 👼 + lowercase intentional. format is mm/dd/yy. can be interpreted as romantic/platonic.

💌 09/27/24 ... "ha! i bet you thought you heard the last from me, huh? you won't be able to escape me that easily. hehe. you'll be getting more of this, but i won't tell you when you'll be getting them 'cause otherwise it won't be a surprise. i can already imagine the look on your face while you're reading this. don't frown; you'll only get wrinkles."

💌 10/03/24 ... "you probably expected i'd have an e-mail scheduled for tomorrow. but i can't have you expecting these little messages, can i? eat something good on my behalf. i'll know if you don't celebrate my birthday~"

💌 10/13/24 ... "you once asked me if i would feel bad about the boys touring without me. honestly? i still don't know the answer. ㅋㅋㅋ sorry if that's underwhelming. but one thing is for sure— they're going to do well. make sure to keep an eye on them! just because i'm gone, it doesn't mean you can stop watching them!"

💌 12/28/24 ... "it's the week between christmas and new year that's always weird, isn't it? it's because you're sandwiched between two holidays and time doesn't seem real. i hope it's not too cold wherever you are. as for me... well, you can just check the internet for the weather in my place. hehe. belated merry christmas, advanced happy new year, and everything in between."

💌 02/04/25 ... "i'm sure you're going to get a bunch of valentine's greetings and flowers, so this is me beating all of them by greeting you on february one (suck it, losers). as for flowers? here: 💐"

💌 02/14/25 ... "(of course i'd still get you real ones. duh.) (unless cheol didn't get the delivery right. if that's the case, i'll kill him.)"

💌 04/01/25 ... "Hello. This is PLEDIS Entertainment. We would like to provide an update on SEVENTEEN member Jeonghan... who misses you lots. 🤡 ㅋㅋㅋ happy april fool's! i almost wanted to joke that i would be coming home early, but i think that would make you really upset. be thankful i'm feeling nice as i draft these up."

💌 05/26/25 ... "ten years? criminal."

💌 07/13/25 ... "hey, hey, hey. today's a very important day! do you know why? i'll give you some time to guess. if you get it wrong, i'll be very upset. there's a second mail that will come tomorrow, so make sure you get the answer right~"

💌 07/14/25 ... "spoiler alert: yesterday was just a normal day. ㅋㅋㅋ i just wanted you to think of me. did it work? i hope it did. because i'm sure that i'm thinking of you right now."

💌 09/27/25 (1) ... "wow, time really flies. one year down, one year to go. i still have a couple more of these up my sleeve, although i'm sure that doesn't surprise you. anyway. eat well, okay? and take care. that's a threat."

💌 09/27/25 (2) ... "sorry. i always forget to say the words that matter the most. but you know what they are, don't you?"

💌 10/04/25 ... "fuck it. miss you. there."

[beomiracles]

「 CRIMINAL CONSCIENCE 」

SYNOPSIS moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder.

pairings: criminal!beomgyu x investigator!reader warnings for tape 01: mentions of drugging/drug use. oral (f, rec), marking.

GENERAL WARNINGS ─ this story contains dark themes, portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships as well as substance abuse. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK.

✎ NOTE, this story is partly told in flashbacks. beware of time stamps as present and past is mixed throughout the story.

the tape recordings

tape 01 ─ stay away from Choi Beomgyu

February 19th 2024 ─ present time 

You hated being late. You hated feeling rushed, the way things would always turn out half-assed. Yet you had turned off alarm after alarm, snoozing past at least five of them before finally pulling yourself out of bed with a groan. 

Though one glance at your phone has you rushing to your feet. There was no way you’d make it in time. Pulling on your shirt, looking everywhere for a pair of socks, toothbrush in your mouth. Having to redo your ponytail three times because your stubborn hair refused to lay flat and you’d run out of hair gel. 

One hand on the steering wheel and one applying lipstick messily all over your lips, you sway past the cars on the crowded roads. Parking was easy, you almost made it on the first try this time. 

Stumbling your way through the hallways of your office building, earning rather confused looks from your colleagues. Finally you make it to your office, your own private space. Breathing out a sigh of relief as the door closes behind you, you glance at the clock. Only five minutes late, that was 300 seconds and... 

“That’s not important now”, you sigh as you drag your feet over to your desk. There’s an unfamiliar file on top of your rather large pile. Frowning, you pick it up. Just as you’re about to open it and have a look your phone chimes. 

You bring the device to your ear, “you here yet?” Yeonjun's voice carries over the line. Rolling your eyes, you sit down on your desk, “of course, what do you honestly think of me”,  you snort. 

“Nevermind, don’t”, you then add with a groan. Your colleague chuckles on the other side of the phone. “You seen the file I left for you?”, he asks. You turn said file over in your free hand, “you left it?”. Yeonjun hums, “I need you down in the interrogation rooms in about fifteen, that okay?” 

“Of course, I’ll be there in ten”, you grin and Yeonjun scoffs, “i’ll bet”. You hang up and shove your phone in your back pocket before you make your way toward the interrogation rooms. 

The sound of your heels clacking along the stone floors fill the now empty hallway. Your ponytail swings in tune with your steps and you reapply your favorite red lipstick. Red had never been a color of your choice, but it had been someone else’s.

Another echo of footsteps join yours and soon a voice calls out, “miss y/l/n!”.  Turning around on the spot a smile finds its way to your lips, “Huening!”, you exclaim as the younger man approaches you. 

Huening had this boyish appearance that made him look youthful and innocent. No wonder so many of your female coworkers had a thing for him. Your own history of lovers, on the other hand, were far from anything and everything Hueningkai represented. 

The younger man gives you a shy smile as he hands you a mug of coffee, “you seemed to be in a rush earlier so I…”, he trails off as his gaze falls on the mug in his hand. “Well…”

“That’s very considerate of you, thank you”, you say as you take the cup from him. Bringing it up to your lips you smile, “how did you know I love lattes?”.  The tips of Huening’s ears turn pink, “I er…just y’know, went with my gut feeling…”. 

A small giggle escapes your lips, “never stop trusting it”, you say as you give his shoulder a pat. The younger man’s ears turn from pink to a flaming red as he nods. Clearing his throat he glances at the file in your hand. 

“New case?”, he asks and you nod. “I’m about to meet the suspect just now”, you say as you take a sip of the coffee. On your way you had gone through the pages briefly. To be honest you would need at least thirty minutes to just sit down and read through them. But time was a luxury you couldn’t afford today. 

Huening nods as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt, “perhaps…when you’re done, we could get lunch together?”.  It was impossible for you to decline his sweet request, “I would love to”. Your younger colleague beams as he takes goodbye of you. 

Sipping on your coffee, your red lipstick stains the cup. Eyes scan the papers one last time as you approach the interrogation room. Yeonjun meets you by the door, “you got the files?” he asks and you nod. 

“Yes, though I’ve barely had time to go through them thoroughly”, you admit as you recall your rushed morning. Yeonjun shakes his head, “don’t sweat it”. He brings out a file of his own as he reads a few main points to you. 

“23, male, brought in yesterday night at 1.22am”. Yeonjun flips the paper, “he’s under investigation for murder and attempted arson”. You nod along as you sip on your coffee, arson and murder wasn’t an unusual combination. 

“Any witnesses?” you ask and Yeonjun shakes his head, “none have come forward”. You frown, “how is he linked to the crime?”. Your colleague puts his files down as he turns to look at you, “victim’s DNA on him”. 

Your eyebrows raise in evident surprise, “really?”. Should no other evidence or witnesses surface the man would be as good as guilty already. Yeonjun nods as he unlocks the door for you, “good luck, I’m on the other side of the glass at all times”, he reassures and you give him a thankful smile as you step inside. 

Your heels echo inside the small and dark room as you approach the table in the middle of it. Not looking up from your files you slide down on the chair opposite the man. 

“You are being investigated for the murder of Park Baekhyun as well as the attempted arson against his property. You have the right to remain silent and or request for an attorney, keep in mind that anything you say can be used against you in court”, you say as you place your files down on the table. 

The man in front of you looks up and your eyes widen. His dark eyes pierce yours in such a familiar way that you almost have a hard time controlling your breathing. Lips curling into a smirk as he looks at you.

But that can't be him, it’s impossible, yet he looked exactly like… 

“Beomgyu?” 

Your mouth betrays you before your mind has the chance to stop it. Beomgyu’s smirk only widens as it exposes his shiny teeth, the same teeth that had grazed your skin so many times before. 

He lets out a short laugh, “dollface, it’s been a while hasn’t it?”. 

You want to yell, shout, cry, possibly even throw your coffee in his face. But you do nothing. The smirk on his face doesn’t falter as Beomgyu tilts his head to the side, studying you, as if trying to calculate your next move, you knew he could. 

Though before he has the chance to, the door behind you clicks open. Yeonjun enters with a frown plastered on his normally expressionless and professional face.

“You know this guy?”, he questions and you nod without taking your eyes off Beomgyu who’s smirk only widens. “Know? That’d be an understatement”. Yeonjun gives Beomgyu a short glance before he beckons you to follow him out. 

As the doors to the interrogation room closes behind the two of you, Yeonjun turns to you with a sigh. “What on earth is going on?”. You chew on your bottom lip hesitantly, “well, I sort of…we sort of….” “were something?”. You nod, “yes, something like that”. 

“It was a long time ago though”, you quickly add in a rushed tone and Yeonjun raises an eyebrow. “Exactly how long is long ago?”, he questions. 

You nervously scratch at your forearm as your gaze wanders, anywhere but Yeonjun’s eyes. “I haven’t seen him in ten months..”, your voice is hushed, shameful even. And you were ashamed, ashamed of having any sort of connection to a man like that. 

The look your colleague gave you might as well have had you resigning on the spot. “Jesus christ”, he mumbles as he runs a hand through his hair, “I’ll take you off the case, we’ll find someone and─” 

“No!” 

The words leave your lips before you even have the chance to consider them. Why? You had no clue, but you knew that you wanted─ no, needed this case. Maybe it was only to satisfy your own curiosity or perhaps it was to gain some sort of closure. Either way you knew that this case could not go to someone else. It had to be you.

Straightening your back, you glance up at Yeonjun as your arms fall to your sides. “I’m confident that I can do this”, you state as you hold his gaze. The older man gives you a look of disbelief but your persistence eventually makes him cave as he sighs. 

“Alright, but if I notice that things are getting out of hand, you’re out”. 

You smile, “thank you”. Yeonjun nods, “well then, if you’re ready then go on back inside”. 

The silence as the doors close behind you to the interrogation room is deafening. Glancing down at the table you notice your coffee cup missing. Beomgyu turns said cup around in his hands as he studies it closely. 

“You like your coffee black”, he states as you sit down opposite him. Why would he remember that? Why did your stomach jump at the fact that he did remember such a detail? You push it aside as you look up to meet his gaze, “things change”, you say as reorganize the files in front of you. 

Beomgyu grins, “not you”. He leans forward as his cuffed hands rest on the table in front of him, “you look just the same”, he mumbles as he studies your face closer. You refuse to lean back, that would mean that you were scared, that you would let him win. And you wouldn’t, not this time. 

“Well luckily we’re not here to talk about me”, you give him a small smile and watch as he leans back in his chair with a small grunt. 

“Last night”, you begin as you glance down at the files once more, “you were at present at Park Baekhyun’s property between the hours of 10pm and 1am, what were you doing there?”. 

Beomgyu bites the inside of his cheek as he grins, “cleanin’ up a mess”. You raise an eyebrow as you question him further, “what kind of mess?”. He smirks, “well certainly not the ones we used to make”. You swallow as you try to dismiss anything he says. 

“What kind of mess was my question”, you repeat and Beomgyu rolls his eyes. “One of my employees messed up, he’s new, I don’t blame him”. His eyes flicker toward the glass window on one of the walls, certainly aware of the fact that Yeonjun was on the other side, even though he couldn’t see him. 

“You gotta go easy on the newbies”, he then adds as his eyes shift back toward you with a mischievous glint. “But you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” he smirks as his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek. 

“I went easy on you the first time”. 

He didn’t. Perhaps that was why you remembered your first encounter with Beomgyu to this day. 

March 28th 2022 

“Oh come on, don’t be like that. Everyone will be there!”, your friend Kayla whines as she tugs at your arm. You shake your head, “no, everyone you know will be there”. Finally pulling yourself from her grasp you flop back down on your bed. “It’ll just be awkward to bring me along”, you mutter. 

Though your friend won’t have it. “Well if you’re not going then I’m not either”. The bed squeaks as she takes place beside you. The two of you stare up at the ceiling of your small apartment in silence for about thirty seconds before Kayla starts once again. 

“Pleaseeeeee”, she whines as she rolls over on her side to look at you. Giving you her best pout and puppy eyes you finally give in. “Fine, but you better not leave my side”. 

The first thing Kayla did was leave your side. Running off to wrap her arms around that no-good boyfriend of hers. You swallowed a gag. The club was hot, smelled like alcohol and sex, and was absolutely crowded. 

You instantly regretted coming here. You knew no one, and without your only friend, your introverted self could count on a lonely night. Quietly making your way over to the bar, you order yourself a drink in an attempt to drown your regret. 

As you sip on your drink, your eyes scan the dance floor after your friend. Though all you could make out were half naked bodies pressed against one another. You found your eyes wandering over to the small booths by the sides of the main floor. They were secluded, but far from private. 

Then your eyes fell on him. He wasn’t your type, at least you thought he wasn’t. Maybe it was the liquor, or the overwhelming sense of loneliness you felt that night. But when your eyes locked with his, you swear the two of you could’ve been the only people in the room. 

Sprawled out on the sofa to one of the booths, two of the prettiest girls draped over him, drink in his hand, mid conversation with one of the guys next to him, yet his eyes remained on yours. 

One of the girls plays with his long dark hair as she whispers into his ear. He smirks as he brings his drink to his lips, over the rim of the glass you catch the subtle wink he gives you. Your heart skipped a beat. 

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to getting hit on. Or even just subtly flirted with, but this, this felt different. This man was far from anything you had ever laid your eyes on, you felt intoxicated but you weren’t so sure that it was because of your drink. No, there was something about him. 

So you did the only reasonable thing, you winked back. 

The man’s smirk only widened as his free hand moved up the inner thigh of the other girl. She squirmed under his touch, emitting small giggles as she leaned in to kiss at his neck. He seemed to pay her little mind, eyes still trained on yours. 

No matter how badly you wanted to, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from him. He was so… “Don’t even think about it”, Kayla mutters as she appears next to you, causing you to jump in your seat. 

“What?” you question as you finally pull your gaze from the man and to your supposed friend. She rolls her eyes as she motions towards the man, “him”. “Don’t even think about starting anything with that man”. 

You frown, “I wasn’t…”─ “oh no but you were”, she cuts you off as she orders a drink of her own. “That man is no good”, she continues as she leans against the bar, “only uses girls for his own pleasure, you’ll get hurt”. 

You scoff, “what if I only seek pleasure”. Kayla frowns as she turns to look at you, “then I suggest you seek it elsewhere, he is no good”. Receiving her drink she takes a large swig and you set your own empty glass down. 

“How do you know about him?” Kayla had never even mentioned the man to you before and you were curious to know her history with him. Your friend shakes her head, “used to be close to this one girl, then one night she’s off with him”. 

Kayla sighs as she takes another sip of her drink, “next time I see her is two weeks later, drugged out of her mind”. Your eyes widened, Kayla had never even mentioned anything like this to you, perhaps you could understand why. 

She points her drink toward the man again. His hands roam the bodies of the girls who cling to his sides as they whisper sweet nothings into his ears. “That, is what that man will do to you”, she states as she downs the last of her drink. “Besides”, she shrugs, “I have never seen him with the same woman twice”. 

Setting her glass down, Kayla pulls herself from the bar, “I gotta get back to Jim”, she gives your cheek a quick peck, “call me when you’re ready to go home, yeah?”. She scurries off onto the dance floor before you have the chance to reply. 

Sighing, you return your attention to the bar as you order yourself another round. Whilst waiting on your drink you feel a hand on your shoulder. Startled, you turn your head to be met by an unfamiliar man. He gives you a polite smile as he introduces himself, “Hwan” .

You can’t help but smile back, “Y/n”, you say and when he asks to join you, you comply. Hwan takes the seat next to yours, “how come I haven’t seen you before, you new in town?”, he asks as he orders himself a drink. 

You shake your head, “no, just not a fan of clubs I suppose..”. The man nods, “I see, then I must’ve been real lucky to catch you here”, he grins and you giggle, “indeed”. 

“You here with a friend or boyfriend?”. “Just a friend, she sort of forced me along”, you say as you sip on your drink. “So no boyfriend then?”, he asks, leaning slightly closer. 

Just as you’re about to tell him no, a tall figure appears behind him. His presence makes the hair on the back of your head stand up. Hwan, inevitably notices the man as he turns around in his seat with a frown. 

“Can I help─”, he begins but is quickly cut short. 

“Scurry off”, the man who you’d locked eyes with previously says. Hwan glances between you and the man in a confused manner. When you don’t say anything he finally gets up as he gives you a small bow. 

The man from earlier clicks his tongue as he takes Hwan’s seat, quickly calling the bartender over, “I’ll have what she’s having”. 

A small silence falls over the two of you and you nervously grip your glass. What was going on? You had certainly seen the same man with two girls all over him not less than ten minutes ago. Why was he here? With you?

Sneaking a glance at him you find him already looking at you. His eyes study your face in an almost calculating way. Though he doesn’t say anything, the smirk that etches its way onto his face gives away that he likes what he sees. 

As he gets his drink, the metal rings on his fingers make a clinking sound against the glass. He takes a sip as he continues to study your face. You shift in your seat, feeling rather uncomfortable under his intense gaze. 

“Choi Beomgyu”, he then says. The name fit him, oddly enough. Perhaps it was a bad idea to give out your own name, a piece of you, to the man your friend had previously warned you about. But this man intrigued you, almost like a forbidden fruit that you know you shouldn’t eat. Yet you can’t help but wonder, could one bite be so bad? 

“Y/l/n, y/n”, you say as you set your glass down. Beomgyu’s smirk widens. “You come here often?”, he asks and you shake your head, “rarely”.  He hums against the rim of the glass, “you didn’t really strike me as the type anyway”. 

You can’t help but frown at his answer, “then what type is that?”. Beomgyu raises an eyebrow as he glances toward the dance floor, you follow his gaze. “Her”, he mutters, “and her, her, her and her”. 

You take in the appearance of the multiple half naked girls, pushing anything and everything they could onto the nearest stranger. Beomgyu’s eyes snap back to yours, under the blues and purple of the club, they glint in an almost starlike way. 

“But not you”, he states. 

“Not me”, you agree as you finish your drink. You look at him as you brush a strand of hair from your face, “then perhaps, you’re striding outside of your usual target group”. 

Beomgyu tilts his head, “I’m not opposed to trying new things”.  

Maybe it was the liquor, or the fact that Kayla had already warned you about him, or maybe it was the way his eyes drugged you stronger than any other substance could. But you found yourself wanting more, if he wasn’t opposed to trying new things, then who says you weren’t either?

And perhaps that was why you had let him lead you upstairs. Let him close the door behind you, sealing you away from the world. Let him push you back against the soft mattress of the foreign bed. 

And maybe, just maybe that was why you had let his hands wander. The same way they did those girls not even an hour earlier. The cold metal of his rings digging into your soft thighs as he pushes them apart. 

When his lips found your neck, they were soft. You had little expectations of the man currently between your legs, however, his lips being soft, had not been one of them. And he’s gentle, a lot more than you had expected. He takes his time exploring you, as if you were an exotic and foreign artifact. Something that he had never before come across. 

His large hand cups your face as he exhales, letting his warm breath fan your face. His thumb pulls your bottom lip down before he pushes it inside. Your tongue immediately wraps around it as your eyes lock with his. 

“You’re so pretty”, he murmurs as his free hand brushes through your hair. “Pretty like a doll”,  his eyes wander down your body. “Made out of porcelain, untainted and perfect”, he whispers as he pulls his thumb from your mouth. 

His now saliva coated thumb presses against your clit in a menacing way as you squirm beneath him. “And such a pretty pussy too”, he groans as he leans down to ghost his lips over where you need him the most. 

His tongue drags between your folds, drawing moans and whines from you as you grip onto the bed sheets. As his tongue dwells deeper, Beomgyu uses his hands to roughly massage and grope your thighs, making sure to leave you blue and purple. 

Occasionally inhaling before diving right back at your cunt, his nose stimulating your clit just enough to have you see stars but never a shooting one. Beomgyu groans between your legs at the sheer taste of you. 

“Need more”, he grunts as he pulls you closer to his face. “You’ll give me more, won’t you dollface?” 

You nod furiously as your thighs close around his head. Finishing all over his face with a small cry as you grip the bed sheets enough to cause ripping. 

As your orgasm fades and all that is left are your trembling legs, Beomgyu finally pulls himself from your cunt. Nose, lips and chin coated in all of you. His dark eyes find yours as he smirks, “I like you dollface”, he states. 

“I’ll keep you”. 

And that was, exactly, how you became infatuated with Choi Beomgyu.

A/N ─ EEEK, it's finally out!!! please please please drop some feedback I would love to hear your opinions >.< also this Beomgyu is such a 180 degree turn from pretty princess Beomgyu so it's been a little challenging to write but I am loving it so far!!

✎...taglist @beomtasticc @beomies-world @leeminhosairfryer @baekberrie @fairyofyeongyu @lunathewritingcat @archoive @baemgyu @yunjinsbbg @velvetmoonlght @luvsyuqii @seokqt

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[yizmiu]

SITUATIONSHIP 〻ᯇ # lee heeseung

016. kiss cam | smau + written (464 wrds)

IN WHICH ✶ y/n loved the idea of love, simply because she hadn’t experienced it yet. She hoped and prayed that love would come to her at the perfect time of her life where she’s mentally stable and ready for it. So when she suddenly gets attention from Lee Heeseung—she can’t tell if she likes this or not? This sudden attention, he was extremely sweet to her, way too sweet that it was suspicious. Given his reputation, Heeseung wasn’t the type to settle. So why was he all up on Y/n? and just why was Y/n enjoying it? She was confused with herself and her new situationship, maybe she’s just overstimulated by everything and scared to commit.

“Do you like it so far?” Heeseung asked as he and Y/n both took their seats next to each other, coming back from the concession stands. “Yeah, I’ve never been before so it’s a new experience.” Y/n nodded her head. “Yo, Y/n can I get a sip.” Sunghoon patted the girl's shoulder, he was in the seat behind her.

“Hoon, I told you to get a drink. Leave her alone.” Heeseung scoffed. “It’s fine, he can have it, I'll just share with you.” Y/n chuckled, handing her soda cup to the boy behind her. “Thank you, Y/n.” Sunghoon said before taking a sip.

“We got pretty good seats,” Karina said as she looked at the arena, being able to see the whole field. “Surprised we were able to get them so late.” She hummed.

“Ooh! They’re doing kiss cam!” Winter exclaimed as she pointed at the big screen. The group watched as couples were shown on kiss cam. It was cute, what they didn’t expect next was for Heeseung and Karina to be shown next.

“Oh!” Karina gasped, quickly realizing she was now on the screen for thousands to see. “Noooo!” The two shook their heads and made x’s with their hands. The crowd booed them.

“Sunghoon bet this would happen.” Heeseung laughed as he turned to Y/n. “It’s kiss cam! You should’ve kissed.” Y/n teased, poking at the boy's shoulder.

The camera operator saw the two laughing and decided to put the camera back onto Heeseung but this time with Y/n in the frame.

“Yo! Yo! Yo!” Jake was excitedly patting Heeseungs shoulders from behind. “Y/n, it's a kiss cam you have to kiss!” Sunghoon teased her with her own saying.

“You don’t have to.” Heeseung chuckled. “Really we don’t have��.” Y/n cut Heeseung off, kissing him on the cheek a little too close to his mouth. He was frozen for a second then realizing what just happened, he really didn’t mean to but he just had to kiss her again…so he did…but on the lips.

Their friends along with the crowd around them were blowing whistles and cheering. “Okay cut it out!” Sunghoon shoved them apart with his hands after witnessing Heeseung turn the simple kiss into a french kiss.

“Ah—shit, sorry Y/n. I’m really sorry.” Heeseung bit his lip in distress, upset that he let his urges get the best of him. “I kissed you first, it’s okay.” Y/n chuckled, “Yeah, but then I kissed you again and it wasn’t even just a peck...I’m sorry.” Heeseung sighed.

Y/n leaned into the boy so he could hear her better. “I liked it, don’t be sorry.” Y/n says, purposefully making sure he’s the only one that hears it.

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[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: one day only | zh

summary | your friends make a bet that you and your boyfriend can’t spend one day without talking to or seeing each other, which both you and your boyfriend are convinced is untrue. so, you give it a shot—you just don’t consider whether or not the universe agrees with you, too.

genre | zhang hao x reader, established realtionship, fluff, short and sweet

wc | 1.3k

a/n: zhang hao heart eyes giggle giggle heart

USUALLY, WHEN IT’S COLD OUTSIDE, you hold your boyfriend’s hand to keep your hands warm. Today, however, it’s cold, wet, and you’re boyfriendless, which was three negatives with not a single positive to balance them out.

You shuffle through the streets of Seoul with what you could only assume was a negative look on your face, staring into the windows of shops and cafes wondering what you could do to entertain yourself. As much as you didn’t want to, the thought of “If my boyfriend was here” popped into your head every twenty seconds, which only proved your friends right.

About a week ago, Matthew jokingly said that you and your boyfriend, Hao, would die should you be forced to spend a day apart from each other, which had sparked a heated debate within your friend group until today, which was the fated quote-unquote “trial.” At midnight today, they had you block Hao and sleep at your parents’ house, and thus the clock started—you were not to see Zhang Hao until 12:01 am.

Part of you wanted to break it off, mostly because you were cold and wanted to go home, but you had a point to prove, and about 5 people and $100 counting on you not seeing Hao until tomorrow. And, you’d made a big deal about how you were going to take yourself on a date and have the time of your life, which was not going as planned.

Meanwhile, Hao, who supposedly hadn’t taken a stance (which was a lie, because, when Matthew originally sent the text, he agreed, which offended you) was likely living his day like he usually would—practicing the violin, cooking an extravagant lunch, taking a nap at 2.

With a somber sigh, you wandered into a trinket store with no goal other than escaping from the cold outside. It was big and filled to the brim with glass cases housing jewelry, glass figurines, and anything else that felt worth obscuring from people prone to breaking things.

Without thinking, you stumbled over to the kids’ area. It was somewhat like a mini toy store, with Lego sets lining the walls and action figures sitting in plastic cases. To your right, there was a small basket with the label “pre-loved stuffies,” which you thought was adorable. You also thought that Hao would love it, which made you want to start crying.

You walked over to it, picking up the teddy bear on the very top of the pile. You nearly scoffed at it, staring at it with malice in your eyes. In the teddy bear’s hand was a small violin, misshapen and squishy, but still recognizable.

“They made him into a teddy bear,” you whispered to yourself, almost laughing. Well, now you had to get it for him, you reasoned, immediately beelining for the cashier. She greeted you with a smile, taking the bear from your hands and scanning the barcode that they’d haphazardly placed on the back of the violin.

“We actually just received this one today,” she hummed, bringing out a light pink paper bag to put the bear in. “From a little boy who said he was too grown up for it. It was very sweet.”

“Awe,” you smiled, trying to imagine a little boy marching in with a bag of stuffed animals and insisting that he was too old for a teddy bear. “How old was he, do you think?”

“Eight or nine, maybe? He was sweet,” she replied. You tapped your card against the card reader, shoving it back into your wallet as quickly as you could. The cashier handed you the bag, saying, “Thank you!”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, turning to leave the shop with your new present in hand. With more resolve, you decided you were going to give up the challenge—this was stupid, and you didn’t need to be forced away from your boyfriend for 24 hours to prove a point. You knew that you could last a day without him if need be, and you didn’t need to test the theory for anyone.

The moment you were back on the sidewalk, you took out your phone, marching towards the train station. You would admit it, with pride—you loved your boyfriend and didn’t like being away from him. That didn’t mean you were incapable of being away from him for a while, so you would tell your friends that, and you would deal with the ridicule until they found a new thing to pick on.

So, you pulled up Hao’s contact on your phone, getting ready to press the unblock button, when you walked straight into someone’s back. You gasped, taking a step back and exclaiming “I’m so sorry!”

And then, you hear a familiar voice say, “No way.”

You looked up, jaw dropped as you stared at none other than Zhang Hao and Sung Hanbin, standing side by side, right in front of you. For a moment, the three of you just stared at one another in complete silence, like you were seeing each other for the first time in decades.

“No fucking way,” Hanbin repeated, finally breaking the silence. “There’s no way. Like, no way.”

“Apparently, there’s a way,” Hao replied, staring down at you with a pretty smile. You practically swooned, resisting the urge to engulf him in a hug and tell him how much you missed him. “How’s your day been, honey?”

“Fine,” you replied nonchalantly, watching as Hanbin typed furiously on his phone. “I got you a gift.”

“You did?”

You held out the bag, and Hao raised an eyebrow, taking it from you. He pulled out the teddy bear, staring at it with an incredulous look on his face. “You found a violin-holding teddy bear? Just out in the open?”

“It was on the top of a ‘pre-loved stuffies’ bin at a little shop down the way,” you replied, suppressing your smile. “And, get this, they got it today. Some kid dropped it off mere hours ago, and then I happened to show up on my no-Zhang-Hao-allowed day.”

Hao turned to Hanbin, and you felt your phone starting to blow up in your pocket, meaning Hanbin had successfully let the group know that you ran into him, unplanned, out on the open streets of Seoul, a good hour away from your apartment. “Does this mean we lose?”

“I don’t even know,” Hanbin replied, exasperated. “I—what are the odds of this? You couldn’t have even planned it. We’ve been together since last night.”

“I guess it was just fate,” you shrugged, crossing your arms. “And, for your information, I can easily spend a day without Hao.”

“Aw,” Hao said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You finally felt warm again, and you felt a little embarrassed that this was happening. “Well, for your information, I’ve been complaining about missing you from the moment you left.”

“He has,” Hanbin agreed, holding up his phone. “Let me take a picture, ‘kay? I need to send it to everyone.”

You gave the camera a thumbs up, finally giving in and smiling (not for the picture, but at the fact that you were reunited with your beloved boyfriend). Hao, in the most Hao way possible, leaned his head on yours, also holding up his thumb.

“You and I were fate,” he chuckled, and Hanbin snapped a picture, memorializing this moment into history.

thank you for reading !

[lvrhughes]

Always Been Yours | F. Minten

pairing: Fraser Minten x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: drunk mints?

summary: After his teams drops him off with you, you're left to take care of drunken Fraser

not my gif!

The loud knocking on your door pulled you from the book, glancing at the clock, flashing 01:03, in your kitchen as you walked to the door. Opening the door to the group of boys, mainly consisting of Fraser’s teammates, holding the Minten boy up, barely. 

“What happened?” A flash of panic covered your face, seeing the team carrying the boy. 

“We may have lost him in the bar, then found him with about five empty shot glasses.” Rhett answered, moving quickly to drag Fraser inside, leading the drunken boy onto your couch.

“You lost him in the bar? Are you serious?” The fear that flashed over each boys face was enough to interpret that you were sounding like your mother, enough to drive fear into any man. 

“We’re so sorry, we’re going to leave now.” Bradon spoke quickly, pulling Rhett out of your living room and outside in seconds, the door closing shortly behind them. 

You shook your head, walking over to Fraser, who sprawled across your couch, in a way that could not be comfortable. 

“Hey minty.” Your voice was soft, running a hand through his hair as he groaned. 

“My head hurts.” His voice was muffled, buried into one of the pillows. 

“I bet, let’s get you to a bed.” You urged, trying to move the boy upwards. 

“Too tired.” He urged back, refusing to move, earning an eye roll. 

“Fraser, either get up or get out.” The change in tone snapping him away, his eyes blinking to adjust to the light, sitting up in seconds. 

An immediate look of regret covering his face at the fast movements, the color draining from his cheeks, a clear sign of how sick he felt. You were fast to move, your arm across his back to lead him to the bathroom, Fraser hitting the floor within seconds of entering the room. Leaning over the toilet as you brushed a hand through his hair, trying to calm his heavy breathing as he finished. 

“That was disgusting.” He spoke slow, his voice deeper than usual. 

“Yeah? I’m sure you’re loving those shots for a second time.” He simply groaned, leaning his head back against you. 

“Bed?” The energy had drained from his eyes, whatever had been left, and you nodded. 

Moving to stand, urging Fraser to give you his hand to pull him up before leading him into your room. He moved to the bed, lying on it quickly before you told him off. 

“Off, mints, get changed first, you’re never going to want to move if you lay now.” He nodded, moving off the bed, rummaging through your closest for the pile of clothes he kept. 

He pulled his clothes off without a second thought, switching his jeans for sweats in the corner of your room. Your mind racing, looking everywhere but at the boy, shuffling your things around to make the bed fit for him. His body fell to the mattress quickly, melting into it in seconds, a groan of pleasure escaping his lips. 

“I love your bed.” He mumbled, his face shoved in a pillow as you moved his body just enough to move the blankets over him. 

“‘M glad you like it, Fras.” You kept your voice soft, keeping the boy in his sleepy state as you tried to leave, heading towards your couch for the night. 

You had barely reached the bedroom door before he realized, sitting up quickly to stare at you, a look of confusion covering his face. 

“Where are you going?” His question was slurred, no longer being able to tell if it came from the tiredness that cover him or the alcohol in his system. 

“To go sleep.” You shot back, turning the light off, the lamp in the corner emitting the only light. 

“Sleep here.” 

“Fras-” 

“Just sleep, I need you here.” 

How could you deny him? The pleading voice, the puppy dog eyes, it was too much for anyone, leading you to curl into the bed beside him. His arms dragging you tight against his chest, letting you lean your head on his chest, feeling his breathing steady as he slipped into sleep. 

“You’re so pretty I wish I could kiss you.” The words were mumbled, falling from Fraser’s lips just before, his eyes shut and breathing steady. 

“Go to sleep, Fras, if you still want, you can kiss me in the morning.” Anyone could see the smile that grew on his face, even in the dark, his eyes still closed. 

“I’m holding you to that.” He answered once more, his words fading near the end of the sentence, his body finally falling lax as he slipped off. 

In the morning, when you awoke to find the bed empty, the only thought was Fraser regretted last night. The flirty remarks, sleeping curled up with you, doing things that friends don’t do. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes before making your way to the kitchen, reaching for the coffee pot, that was already full. 

The coffee pot was full and hot, and Fraser sat on one of the few barstools you had lining the counter, his head in his hands as he glanced up at you, sparing a small smile. 

“G’morning, Fras.” His eyes seemed to brighten at the sight of you, his smile growing when you spoke his name. 

“Morning, pretty girl.” 

It was near impossible to stop the flush from covering your face, turning back to the coffee at hand, pouring yourself a cup quickly. A smirk covered Fraser’s face when you turned, walking towards the empty stool beside him. 

“How’s your head?” It was a cheeky question, earning a deserved eye roll from the boy before he spoke. 

“Hurts.” He mumbled, taking another sip of his coffee before speaking again. “Our deal from last night, still on the table?”

The question caught you off guard, assuming he’d forgotten about it, choking slightly on your coffee.

“What?” You managed to couch out, Fraser's hand rubbing circles on your back to help calm you. 

“You know, if I still wanted to kiss you?” He spoke so calm, as if it were so simply, as if it were crazy to react how you had.

“Are you serious? Fraser, don’t fuck with me like this.” 

“Why would I lie about wanting to kiss the prettiest girl I know?” 

The blush that covered your cheeks was unmistakable, Fraser’s hand moving up to cup your jaw, keeping your face towards his. 

“Fra-” 

“Please let me kiss you.” His words interrupted yours, sounding like a painful plea, ready to drop to his knees to beg. 

You nodded, his other hand moving to cup the back of your neck, pulling you against him as he pressed his lips against yours. Melting in each other's body, your hands moving to tug gently on the curls at the nape of his neck, a soft groan escaping his lips. He kissed you like he needed it to live, pouring all his emotions into it, in return for you to do the same.

Panting for air as you pulled away, your hands still entangled in his hair, his hands having dropped to your waist, pulling you into his lap. 

“I’ve waited so long to do that.” He was the first to speak, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips before you could answer. 

“You could’ve asked earlier, I  would’ve let you. Fraser, I’ve always been yours.” 

You could see his eyes soften, his pupils dilate with love. His grip on your waist tightening, tugging you impossibly closer to him, like you could never be close enough. 

“I’ve always been yours too.”

[kaycode1999]

Hazbin hotel as Brooklyn 99 quotes pt.6

*Everyone gathered in the lobby of the hotel*

Angel Dust *intently watching the clock*: Wait for it, wait for it…

*clock moves*

Angel Dust: 9:01! Charlie Morningstar was officially late for the first time ever. All right, let's do this, who's got theories?

Lucifer and Vaggie: uh, alarm didn't go off?

Angel Dust: All three alarms? All with battery backup? Come on! Who wants to take this seriously?

Nifty: ooh she was taken in her sleep!

Angel Dust: That's what I'm talking about! Super dark Nifty, but way more plausible than their idiotic alarm clock theory.

Husk *smirking*: I bet she tucked herself into bed too tight and got stuck

Cherri Bomb: Maybe she fell into another dimension where she's interesting

Alastor *suddenly appearing behind them*: It's 9 a.m why is no one working?

Angel Dust: Charlie is a few minutes late and we're all trying to guess why.

Alastor: I’d like to play, I'd say she's in line at the bank. This is fun.

Angel Dust: It is fun, but you're all wrong. She clearly slipped through a subway grade and is having terrible sex with a mole man

*Charlie comes rushing through the doors into the hotel*

Angel Dust: There she is, Charlie where have you been! We've been worried sick! Do you care to explain yourself?

Charlie: I'm just 70 seconds late, it's not a big deal, don't worry about it.

Alastor: Charlie, you will tell us and you will tell us now.

Charlie *weakly*: There was a problem at the bank

Alastor *claps his hands excitedly*: Hot damn!

[mashup-writing]

Bela Dimitrescu's love (Resident Lover)

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

Requested? ☑

"Tatlong bilyon ikaw lang aking gusto. Pasensya na kung ayaw ko sa isang mundong walang tayo."

"Three billion (people) and you're the only one I want. I'm sorry if I do not want to exist in a world where we are not together."

Summary: Headcanons about Bela Dimitrescu's love in Resident Lover.

Warnings: Minor angst.

Genre: Fluff, minor angst.

Resident Lover Masterlist

----------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶-----------------------

Bela who jumps for joy and cheers louder than you do when Daniela wins her fist major skateboarding competition.

Bela who makes a bet with you in who can throw the flower closest to Cassandra once the play comes to a close, and pelts Cassandra right in the face with the one in her hands.

Bela who takes breaks between council and academic works to ensure your dates last a full day. She has spent so long without you in her life and she will make sure that she never has to spend a second of a day that is both yours so far apart.

Bela who could never be impatient or rough in bed, choosing to cherish every private moment between her and you.

Bela who pays so much attention that subconsciously, your own vocabulary starts to bleed into some of her sentences too.

Bela who breaks every kiss with an "I love you so fucking much" whispered against your lips.

Bela who goes to sleep last and wakes up first every single time, taking in every detail that it takes no time at all for her to know your face like the back of her hand.

Bela who falls asleep each night, safe and content and peaceful and happy that the day ends with you in her arms.

Bela who wakes up alone on the first day after the loop is reset, tears immediately springing from her eyes.

Bela who presses a hand to her chest so hard that it leaves an imprint.

Bela who wonders why does she feel so much despair that it cripples her when her heart is not in her chest.

Bela who always spends the first day of the loop in bed after you disappear, wondering why does she know how it feels to have the side of her bed to be warm and occupied when she has never had anyone over.

Bela who remembers that the love and ache that she holds is for you when you took that tablecloth down infront of the whole student body on club fair day again.

Bela who remembers bit by bit, Bela who chooses to make the same choices she made in university the exact same way as the first time because it led her to you, Bela who tells you her secrets over and over again because you are her soul and her heart is not really her heart unless it has your presence in it.

----------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶----------------------

01-11 believes that Bela is the softest, most devoted lover girl ever. You cannot change 01-11's incomprehensible mind.

[hazbinhotelshipsss]

Overlord husk au

Vox: wait for it…

Vox: wait for it…

Vox: 9:01! Husker is officially late for the first time ever. Alright let’s do this, who’s got theories?

Zestial: uhh—alarm didn’t go off

Vox: all three alarms? All with battery backup? Cmon, who wants to take this seriously?

Rosie: oo! He was taken in his sleep!

Vox: THATS what I’m talking about! Super dark, rose, but way more plausible than Zestial’s idiotic alarm clock theory.

Val: I bet he tucked himself into bed too tight and got stuck

Velvette: maybe he fell into another dimension where he’s interesting.

Carmilla: it’s 9 AM. Why is nobody working?

Vox: Husker is a few minutes late and we’re all trying to figure out why.

Carmilla:…I’d like to play.

Carmilla: I’d say hes..on a date..with Angel dust.

Carmilla: this is fun.

Vox: it is fun! But youre all wrong he clearly slipped through a subway grade and is having terrible sex with a moleman.

The door opens and husk rushes in.

Vox: there he is! Husk where have you been we’ve been worried sick, so you care to explain yourself?

Husk: I’m just 70 seconds late..! It’s not a big deal dont worry abo it it.

Carmilla: Husker you will tell us and you will tell us now.

…

Husk: I was on a date with angel…

Carmilla: hot damn!

[junkissed]

having thoughts about hard dom hao and his hands and spanking 😭😭 effortlessly holding you in place, spanking you red until you're crying out "mercy! please, mercy!"

member — minghao x reader genre — smut word count — 0.6k words smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, spanking, fingering, nicknames (reader called darling, love, dirty girl; hao called sir), semi-public (they're in a bathroom), dom!hao

“minghao!” you hear the sound of fabric ripping, and you gasp his name in surprise.

as soon as the restaurant’s bathroom door had shut, minghao was manhandling you to face away from him. he pulls your dress up, bunching it around your hips before roughly pulling your panties down to your knees as you wiggle your hips against him.

he ignores you, pushing on your back to bend you over the sink. “you thought you were so smooth, didn’t you, darling? touching me under the table and thinking you could get away with it, just because we’re in public?”

you whine but don’t respond, and minghao’s hand lands harshly on your ass, making you grip the edges of the sink.

“i bet you want me to fuck you right here, is that right?” he says, leaning over your body so his lips are right next to your ear. he gathers your hair in one hand, with his other hand wrapped firmly around your waist, and he tugs on your hair to bring your head up. “answer the question, love.”

“yes,” you gasp out, feeling his hand tighten in your hair. the tile beneath your fingers is cold, but your ass burns from the force of minghao’s hand. you know that there’s probably an indent on your skin from the rings on his fingers, and the thought makes you rub your thighs together in anticipation.

he lets go of you, pushing you away before his hand comes down on your skin once more. your ass stings at the contact, but you don’t even try to hide the moan that escapes you. 

“is that how you’re supposed to address me?” he growls. “or are you just doing it on purpose and being a little brat?”

when you don’t answer him right away he spanks you again, and you yelp. “yes, sir,” you repeat.

“yes, you want me to fuck you, or yes, you’re being a brat?” he says, and with the question his hand lands roughly on your ass and makes you jump.

“hao, please!” you whimper, starting to feel tears building in your eyes. you know you should’ve called him sir and not his name, but thankfully he either doesn’t notice or he intentionally doesn’t bring it up.

instead, both of his hands hold your ass carefully, massaging your sore muscles and spreading apart your cheeks. you whine as his fingers trace up and down your skin, the lightness of his touch a clear contrast to how he’d been handling you just seconds before.

his hand dips down, running two of his fingers through your folds to collect your wetness before he brings his hand up in front of your face to show you as his other hand grips your chin to force you to watch. “look at how wet you are, darling,” he coos condescendingly. “dripping all over my fingers, just from a little spanking. you like it when i punish you, don’t you?”

you moan, managing another “yes, sir” before he lets go of your head, and you sigh.

“dirty girl,” he tsks, reaching down to wipe his fingers on the back of your thigh. he pulls your panties back up and smooths your dress back down, pulling you off of the sink and pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. he reaches up to wipe away the stray tear rolling down your cheek, before he pats your shoulder and walks towards the door. “i’ll have to take care of you properly once we get home.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

> drabble taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @onlymingyus @just-here-to-read-01 @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @skzzooyaaa @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld @synthetickitsune @simeonswhore @junhour @foxdaisy @98-0603 @fairybinie

also tagging @sluttyminghao for fun teehee

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[noneorother]

The secret timeline inside of Good Omens season 2 revealed, *part2*

Part 1 l Part 2

The ineffable cut is explained in part 1. Please read that first. (I’ve burnt a timecode into this ineffable edit to help pick up the rhythm.)

So now that I've shown you XX:X6 is the number of the beast in the last installment, what else can we glean? Well, it turns out angel numbers (sequences of repeated numbers ex: 22:22 or 20:02) are quite important events in the S2 universe! I've cut together every "Angel Number" I could find in the timeline and put them in order. I first noticed this near the end of the ineffable cut, where Beelzebub and Gabriel hold hands, so I've started with that one just to give you an idea how bonkers this whole sequence is. Don't forget, sound on! Breakdown below the cut.

So we start off with this Beez and Gabriel sequence near the end of the cut. They start singing to each other a little out of time, but lo and behold, at 02:03:20 the music comes in right on time with the seconds ticking by to line them up. By the time they reach 03:33 they're gone.

Aziraphale is excited to get his "record"! He's doing something sneaky, and as a result opens the door to go off to said covert activity on 00:02:22.

Crowley asks "Do they know?" on 03:33. Who are they and why does he want to know? This whole scene is on a St-James park bench so spying and double speak is in progress, clearly.

Crowley then asks "Something big?" on 00:04:44. We get the hint for the main action of the entire second season here. Something's up with the up...

Now the real fun begins! I'll come back to the ones I just skipped in a later post because they're more subtle. Here's the first "real" angel number at 11:11. Aziraphale discovers THE box and touches it for the first time.

At 22:22 Nina and Maggie's signs are "mysteriously" ignored by a human passerby.

This is wild. Aziraphale is learning about the Everyday record and something funny happens. 33:31 Aziraphale says, " Do you have a copy?" 33:32 Maggie says, "Mm, too many of them" and at the same time a car horn beeps twice. 33:33 Aziraphale is startled by the fact that a double car horn happened on a XX:X2 and looks out the window in concern. So the question is: does Aziraphale feel or know the rhythm of the timestamps?? And are things that line up with numbers a signal he's paying attention to?

A funny one! At 44:44 Aziraphale seems to be wanting to check if Gabriel is really who he says he is, and is watching him like a hawk. Gabriel does all he can to do nothing at all and look innocent while the angel number passes by.

Another funny one. Nice. 55:55 reveals that the Bentley likes Aziraphale more than Crowley, and does whatever he wants, including not speeding when he puts his foot down.

This next one's a little peculiar. It seems like an exchange about Gabriel's whereabouts, but it's the halfway point of the edit (1:11:10-11:11:11) of the ineffable timeline and we seem to be having two conversations at once. Shax says on 11:11 "He hates you." Does she mean that she thinks Crowley hates Aziraphale, or... that Gabriel hates Aziraphale. Aziraphale looks noticeably shocked at her reply. After the eyebrow raise of "You don't seem like his type at all" I would bet we're not talking about Crowley anymore. How did she get this information?

01:22:22 Gabriel does a little laugh to himself while signalling with the lamp. What the fuck? Does someone know morse code?

01:33:33 Maggie extends her had to Nina at the ball, to invite her to dance. Nina looks pleased, but doesn't move until... a very odd miracle sound on a XX:X6 happens and she jumps up to take Maggie's hand. That miracle sound is not Aziraphale's, and besides, he would never miracle on a 6. Who's the demon making Nina dance...

Aziraphale's halo toss is the flip from ACT II to ACT III of season 2, and as such, get's a special time right before rolling over to the second hour. He decides to throw it down on exactly 01:54:45, and at 01:54:54 gets a giant tubular bell ring in the music to highlight the action. It lands on the ground at 01:55:01, and incinerates the demons at precisely 01:55:10.

01:59:59 Beez and Gabriel hold hands, and a magical chime sounds at 2:00:00. Maggie start her sentence "Aww, that's really sweet" at the same time, and manages to finish it on 2:00:02. (Dagon politely waits to pretend to barf on a XX:X3 after she's done.)

The last one is a big one : 02:02:02 gets "to face CELESTIAL punishment" by Michael. This is what we've been waiting for the entire season, the Checkov's gun of the book of life. But, where is it? We then get an odd cowboy showdown style stare-off between Michael and Shax. I'm predicting that missing chunk of time in the bookshop before we come back to Michael threatening Aziraphale with the book of life is going to be a pretty interesting reveal in season 3. -------------------------------------------

People, this is the short version of this post. There are SO MANY things to unpack. Next up is doubled numbers. If you want an ides of what it takes to break things down, here's my workflow timeline right now. The stuff after the first big space is numbers I haven't shown you yet... This show is insane.