#that makes me go *head snap* *full attention*

[silentsneezes]

I’m adoring all of your Ar/cane content! It’s really feeding my current arcane brain rot , thank you for sharing your work!

Manifesting a sick Jay/ce fic 🤞

thank you anon!! I'm so glad other people can enjoy my writing, especially as the a/rcane brain rot persists

flattery will get you everywhere, so here's a 1.8k word sick j/ayce fic in which he tries to attend a council meeting! (and suffers the consequences of his own actions)

I wrote half of this on a plane and half of it while procrastinating my schoolwork, so if it's not my best work forgive me lol, it's mostly self indulgent pathetically sick j/ayce (cw for mess, but not in great detail)

Jayce’s throat is aching and coated with a thick layer of bothersome, phlegmy congestion. He can feel it rise in his throat after every swallow, only worsening his discomfort. Admittedly, it’s partially his fault; he should’ve realized this morning that attending a council meeting with a cold was a poor choice.

His alternative had been to tell Mel he was sick, and request that she pass on the word and make apologies on his behalf. In hindsight, he'd obviously made the wrong decision in going; Mel’s soft spoken assurances would've been an improvement over Jayce’s evident illness and lack of composure. 

As if showing up sick wasn’t bad enough in and of itself, Jayce showed up sick and twenty minutes late, bursting into the room with an uncharacteristic display of clumsiness. Upon first glance, Mel could tell he had one hell of a fever, and yet she excused the muttered frustrations of her colleagues with a polite, “Counselor Talis, so glad you could join us today.”

Jayce offered everyone an apologetic nod as he took his seat, his head swimming dizzily with every step he took. His hair was plastered to his skin in a few places, sweaty and damp due to fever. And god was it hot in there. He looked around, scanning the other counselors for any signs of discomfort at the sweltering temperature of the room, but they all appeared to be just fine. In his observation of the room, he accidentally caught Mel’s eye, attempting to give her a look of reassurance at her obvious concern. 

Jayce forced himself to focus on the discussions taking place, having heard they’d be assessing the value of HexTec theories and their continued funding. He needed to defend his and Viktor’s work; he needed to have some hope, however irrational, that HexTec might help his partner. 

His hearing swam in and out of focus as the meeting dragged on, the bickering of the privileged numbing Jayce’s mind. He only snapped back to reality as he felt a burning itch settle in the back of his sinuses. He sniffed experimentally, temporarily dissuading the sensation and letting out a breath of relief. 

Of course it wasn’t that easy, the itch returning with a vengeance just a second later and forcing his breath to catch loudly, “hHH-“. Luckily, the “civil discussion” of the council members had turned into a full on argument— as it often does— and the sound was only noticed by Mel. Jayce squashed the upturned tip of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, holding his breath as best he could to avoid more vocal hitches. Soon enough, his head snapped forwards with a painfully stifled “hhHNGSXXT’ch!” 

The single stifle did nothing to alleviate the problem, but rather encouraged the itch to travel further up Jayce’s nose. His nostrils attempted to flare beneath his fingers, the absolute need to sneeze taking hold of his entire focus. 

Somehow, Jayce managed to contain his typically vocal build ups, once again squashing a sneeze into submission, “hhHGGSXCHh’huh!” He could feel the pressure of snot building up behind his pinched fingers, searching through his pockets for a handkerchief with his other hand. He felt Mel’s eyes trained on him, his stomach twisting at her attentiveness. 

His stomach dropped as he suddenly recalled setting the handkerchief down in his bedroom in his brainless haste to not be entirely late. Fuck fuck fuck. His sneezes are typically forceful, accompanied by some spray and occasionally requiring a nose blow in the aftermath. But when he’s sick, it’s an entirely different story, and without a handkerchief he's fucked. 

Jayce dropped his hand to his lap, quick to wipe his other wrist against the underside of his nose. He cringed at the thick liquid trail it left behind, barely giving him enough relief to keep the mess from dripping down his upper lip. 

At the sound of the word “HexTec” being spoken by Salo, Jayce forced his attention back to the discussion at hand. His body ached, exhausted and riddled with discomfort, but he listened to every word. After a few minutes, Mel gave him a pointed look: ‘now’s your time’. 

Jayce cleared his throat, both to gain the attention of his colleagues and out of necessity, “I know you fear HexTec. Believe me, I understand your hesitance at exploring such an unknown possibilit-hhy.” Fuck, not now, “But I’ve seen what it can do with my own eyes, the lives it could hh s-hhH-save.”

Jayce continued speaking with a steadfast determination. He needed to get his point across, for the sake of his research… for the sake of his partner. 

“I believe HexTec could be the next great innovation of Piltover. Why wait when we could be helping people now?” 

As Jayce spoke, he could feel the moisture pooling at the base of his nose begin to slip onto his upper lip. He was quick to wipe it away, wishing the councilmembers didn’t all have their eyes trained on him. As soon as his fabric-clad wrist brushed against the base of his nose, the itch returned with urgent demand. 

“Exc-hhH-cuse hhehme- hHHNNGGZXXCHh!” Even stifled to his best ability and muffled into his elbow, Jayce’s sneeze rang through the room. He could feel the mess clinging between his nose and elbow, grateful as he heard Mel’s voice intervene. 

“I believe what Counselor Talis is saying is that HexTec offers great promise for Piltover. It would put us on the map, increasing our trade repertoire and minimizing the risk of losing goods to thieves.” Mel spoke clearly, attempting to persuade with financial and economic tactics rather than the pathos of saving lives. As Mel recovered the point Jayce was about to lose, he managed to clean himself up using his sleeve— at least enough so that the snot clinging to his nose was no longer visible. 

“Counselor Talis,” Salo drawled, almost mocking in his use of the title, “how are we supposed to trust your research? It’s unsanctioned, and with a Zaunite nonetheless.” 

Jayce felt a flush of anger at the insult towards Viktor, tempted to tell Salo off in his fever ridden state. He took a moment, reminding himself that Viktor is fully capable of defending himself should the time ever come. Besides, Viktor would likely dismiss the criticism with ease, summing it up to the privileged ignorance of the undercity. 

“We’ve done extensive worgk. All of our experimendts habve been recorded and we plan on submidding themb to academy researchers for approval,” Jayce answered, his unwavering commitment clear despite the congestion clouding certain letters of his speech. 

To his utmost relief, there was no further rebuttal of his or Mel’s points. Jayce felt his posture relax ever so slightly, rubbing his left temple as the room continued to spin. How he had managed to compose not just one, but a few coherent sentences is beyond him. 

The rest of the meeting is short, only dawdling on for another 20 minutes before the counselors are excused. Mel made a beeline towards Jayce as they all started getting up, giving him an expression somewhere between admonishment and concern, “you shouldn’t have come today.” 

“They would’ve- sNRK- denied mby research if I didn’t show ub,” Jayce mumbled, putting both hands on the desk in front of him in order to shove himself upright. His vision blurred momentarily, his broad frame swaying with the head rush. 

“I had someone retrieve Viktor for you,” Mel offered as a hand came out to brace Jayce’s side, “he was quite upset to hear that you attended this meeting.”

Jayce sighed, his shoulders drooping further in exhaustion. He had told Viktor he’d rest, but he couldn’t just sit back and do nothing when he had the opportunity to advocate for their work. Even though he chastises Viktor for his poor self-preservation, Jayce acts similarly to him: pushing himself past his body’s limits out of sheer stubbornness.

Jayce allowed Mel to guide him towards the exit, too deep in his exhausted haze to entirely register what’s happening. He paused as they neared the door, his breath catching in a quick “hhH-“ and then faltering for a second. The itch tickled back through his sinuses, and a throat-burning build up began, “hhIHh- hHHH’uhH- hhhHRRSZZDCHHhew!”

Jayce practically bent in two with the expulsion, misting the air and leaving a string of mess hanging from his nose. He blinked away a few tears clinging to his lashes, swallowing against his painful, aching throat. 

“Gesundheit,” Viktor’s voice sounded from a few steps away from Jayce, his cane clicking against the floor as he drew nearer. Without hesitation, Viktor pressed his handkerchief into Jayce’s hand, his eyes lingering on his partner's sodden sleeve. 

“Thank you Mel, for alerting me of Jayce’s decision to attend this meeting,” Viktor said politely, expressing his gratitude with a thinly veiled criticism at Jayce’s stupidity. 

“Of course, Viktor. Make sure he gets some rest, hm?” Mel replied with a flicker of amusement before taking her leave, allowing Viktor to manage the mess that is Jayce. 

Once Mel took her leave, Jayce looked at Viktor with a guilty expression. 

“You snuck out of our place. Like an idiot with no self preservation,” Viktor admonished, his words frustrated, but his actions affectionate; he placed a hand on Jayce’s back, leading him out to the hall slowly. 

“I kdow-“ Jayce rasped, only to be interrupted. 

“Don’t speak. You sound terrible,” Viktor reprimanded in concern, “Foolish. You were foolish for leaving.” 

“hhHhuh… hhh…”

Viktor kept a hand on Jayce’s back, feeling every hitch and gasp that wracked Jayce’s body.

“hhHhHeh-“

The build up lasted for a painfully long time, intermixed with whimpers from the pain in Jayce’s throat. Finally, he pitched forwards with a spraying sneeze, nearly tripping over himself, “hhHHGGSZZCHhhew!” 

“Bless you,” Viktor tutted as he laced a hand around Jayce’s waist, helping him straighten up again and glancing at the spray cast upon the floor’s tiled surface. “Are you okay to continue?”

“I’mb’uh- ogkay- snnNRFF-“ Jayce snuffled, steepling the handkerchief over his nose as he remembered Viktor had given it to him. Viktor felt a flutter of sympathy at Jayce’s pathetic attempt to clear his nose; the blow sounded more like a blocked up honk than anything else, making the sick man flush in embarrassment.

“Let us get you home,” Viktor murmured, turning in the direction of Jayce’s apartment in the academy. It took a while for the two of them to arrive back at his place, having to stop with every sneeze and cough so Jayce didn’t stumble over himself. By the time they got to Jayce’s place, he was dizzyingly feverish, sweating through his shirt and evidently on the verge of collapsing. In short, he was much in need of some medicine and caretaking. 

i will likely be making a second part to this... and i might make edits to this part if i feel motivated. anyways, i hope it was worth the wait anon!! thank you for the kind words

[aziraphales-library]

May be an odd request, but do you have any fic recs where Anathema is characterized really well?

I don't see much of her, and when I do, she tends to be there to fulfill a role that may be lacking for what I'm after

I went through my bookmarks and picked fics I remember Anathema from, not just as a prop to get Aziraphale and Crowley together, but as a full character with her own stuff going on...

Friendship is Demonic Magic by Shadow0kana, whtbout2ndbrkfst (T)

After Crowley interrupts Aziraphale and Anathema’s phone conversations one too many times, Aziraphale suggests the two have their own meetups to discuss what they have in common. Cue monthly coffee dates between a witch and a demon who can passionately discuss (debate) anything from Halloween to Astronomy to Hamlet… while also conspiring to form a book swap aimed at getting Aziraphale to read anything written after 1950.

Reluctant Hospitality by brionypoisoned (G)

Anathema Device comes to stay at Aziraphale's book shop after breaking up with Newt. She doesn't know that Aziraphale and Crowley are romantically involved, and Aziraphale attempts to keep it that way. Everything goes very badly.

It's Not The Journey by cosmya (T)

It had been going so well. They’d averted the apocalypse, averted their punishments, averted further investigation or attention by their respective organizations. They were left with little to do but bask in the happy ending. Therein had been the problem. Another champagne, sir?” interrupted the flight attendant. Aziraphale’s eyes snapped open. Oh, I shouldn’t, he thought. “Yes, please,” he said. “Thank you.” Anathema and Newt are getting married, and two of their wedding guests are in a bit of an awkward place. An all-inclusive resort with unlimited alcohol is precisely what they need to re-break the ice.

Do I wanna know? by KissMyAsthma (M)

Aziraphale and Anathema are both closeted queer people, and they decide to do what any sensible closeted queer people do - they form a fake relationship, to shut the mouths of their families and shoo away unwanted suitors. Their comfortable arrangement is put into question when a school reunion makes Aziraphale reconnect - or connect, really - with his school crush, Anthony Crowley. But past is past, and now that they’re both adults, Aziraphale is just glad to make a friend. If the friend finds himself interested in Aziraphale… Well, there’s nothing for him to do since Aziraphale is taken, right?

what the water gave me (we'll watch the sun kiss the sea) by sabraneadaz (T)

“What’s your name?” Pepper asked, jumping to crest the next wave. She’d drifted further out to join Adam where he stood between the Them and the stranger. “All these questions,” the man said, “next you’ll be asking me if I’m an animal, vegetable, or mineral.” “Go on then,” said Adam. “Which one?” (The Them find their summer holidays spoiled by fly-tipping. A woman struggles with life without prophecy. A bookshop owner learns to love, and a mysterious man navigates 21st century courtship. In other words, it's the selkie au no-one asked for.)

Married at First Sight by Aracloptia (T)

“Well, that was a thing,” Crowley said once they were out of earshot. Without talking about it, they were both heading down the field, towards the lake where the photographer (and likely a few more people from the TV crew) was waiting. “That was a wedding,” Aziraphale replied, surprised at his own annoyance that somebody called a wedding a ‘thing’. “Yeah, obviously, didn’t miss that part,” Crowley said with a shrug, and waved abruptly in Aziraphale’s general direction. “Neither did you, from the looks of it, since you’re dressed like a wedding bride and everything.” “Excuse me, I am a—“ Aziraphale stopped himself, and started over. In which Aziraphale ends up marrying a rude stranger who wears sunglasses.

- Mod D

[bloodlineslut]

Surrender | Roman Reigns

Images/GIFs aren’t mine, credits to rightful owners.

Pairings: Roman Reigns x black! oc (Jada)

Warnings: fluff, flirting, teasing foreplay, smut (making LOVE), oral (f receiving), maybe some daddy kink, slight foot fetish if you squint and tilt your head

Summary: Roman finally was released from jail and he and Jada decide to go out on a date to get some much needed one-on-one time. When they get back home, it’s on.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Yall it snowed in Texas yesterday and it made me wish I lived somewhere that got snow all the time! I hope you enjoy this, as I was in the mood for something real grown and sexy. I also listened to Surrender by Kut Klose while writing it so yall should play it while you read the sexy part ;)

Jada and Roman were sitting across from each other in a booth, gazing into each other’s eyes. The dim lighting of the restaurant really set the mood and ambience of what they were feeling.

Jada was the first to break the eye contact, turning her head and trying to hide her smile.

“What?” He teasingly asked and smirked before reaching forward for his glass. Tonight, he was in the mood for red wine.

Jada turned her attention back to her man. “I really missed us being able to do things like this.” She truthfully admitted.

Roman reached his arm to rest on the table, asking for her hand, and she obliged. “I did too, baby. I love just being in your presence, you know that.” His calloused, but gentle fingers stroked the top of Jada’s hand.

He brings it up to his lips to plant a soft, lingering kiss on her knuckles. He always did the right things to make her feel butterflies in her stomach.

The waiter walked up to their table and placed the food that they ordered earlier on the table. He was soon gone but not without telling them to be careful of the hot plates and to enjoy.

Roman ordered what he always got on their dates, steak (medium rare), with mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables.

Jada loved pasta so she decided to go with the restaurant’s signature creamy lemon butter pasta with grilled chicken.

As they devoured their food, they talked about any and everything.

“Have you talked to the twins?” Jada asked, digging her fork into a piece of chicken.

“Nah, not yet.” Roman paused. “I just want to spend some time with just you for a while.”

That made Jada’s heart swell as she smiled for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. “Aww, Ro I love you.”

“I love you more, princess.” His deep voice wrapped around her like a warm hug, sending a shiver down her spine.

The same waiter came back to check on them. “Hello guys, was the food okay?” He says as he collects their now empty plates.

“Yea man. Hey, what are the desserts here?” Roman asks as he strokes his beard in thought, listening to the different options the waiter laid out for them.

Jada could stare at her man all day. His thick, full beard that he kept groomed and clean. His long locks that were slicked back into his signature man bun with the fade under.

The traditional tribal tattoo that marked his whole right arm and right half of his chest and shoulder blade.

His muscles that he worked so hard to get and maintain that it seemed like he was carved straight from stone.

His full, soft lips that she could damn near feel on her skin as she reminisced about all the times that they had sex. Whether it be in their bedroom, the shower, the living room, kitchen, or even in the c-

“Jada.” She was snapped out of her dirty thoughts, gathering her hair in one hand and moving it to rest in front of her shoulder.

“Sorry, babe. What’d you say?” She feigned innocence, but he saw right through it.

Roman bit back his smile, his brown eyes hinting at amusement. He lifted a hand and just motioned for her to come closer to him in the booth.

With no hesitation, she scooted until she was sitting next to him, but that wasn’t close enough for Roman.

His large hands went to her waist, the warmth of his hands touching her skin in the cutouts of her black dress, and hoisted her up to settle in his lap where she belonged.

Jada giggled and they looked at each other for a few seconds before she felt Roman’s hand gently squeeze her thigh as he smirked at her.

His eyes glanced down at her full, luscious lips before leaning in. When his lips finally met hers, it was soft at first, but feeling her in his hands—all of her—made him deepen the kiss.

Jada’s lips moved against his, slow and intoxicating, but then Roman’s tongue brushed against her bottom lip.

“Watch out big Daddy. Are you trying to kiss me out of my clothes?” She pulled back and smiled at him, teasing him.

“Mm. Maybe.” His voice seemed to somehow drop an octave as he muttered, his lips pressing a ghost of a kiss on her neck.

Roman only broke away from her when the waiter brought the German chocolate cake that was topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and caramel drizzle.

“Thank you so much!” Jada thanked the waiter, hoping he wasn’t too uncomfortable with her and Roman’s embrace.

“You all enjoy.” He quickly said and scurried away.

“Roman, you’re scaring the waiters away by being a freak.” Jada giggled, grabbing a spoon and digging into the cake and ice cream. She brought it to Roman’s lips with her other hand below the spoon in case any ice cream dripped.

He opened his mouth, awaiting the delicious treat.

That was one of Jada’s favorite things to do; feed her man. That’s also why she always cooked for him, because seeing him enjoy the food that she put so much love and care into turned her on.

In the corner of his mouth, some ice cream was left behind so she brought her thumb to catch it, and sucked it off.

“Oh baby, we gon’ have to get up out of here.” He reached in his pants pocket for his wallet to grab his credit card.

Jada just laughed and kept eating the cake and ice cream.

Not even thirty minutes later, Roman carried Jada through their front door, their lips fused in a heated kiss that left little room for breath. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, fingers threading through his hair as she melted into him.

He kicked the door shut with a solid thud, never once breaking contact, and reached back blindly to twist the lock into place.

Jada let out a soft giggle against his lips, her breath hitching as he pressed her closer, the warmth of his body enveloping hers.

“You still taste like chocolate.” His voice husky and filled with need as he carried her further inside, his grip firm, as if he had no plans of letting go anytime soon.

 Finally in the bedroom, he sat down with Jada now straddling him. As soon as he felt her thick ass settle on the bulge in his pants, he let out a sexy groan. His hands grabbed handfuls of her ass, kneading it.

His mouth landed on her collarbone and chest, placing open mouthed kisses and nipping and sucking all over.

Jada threw her head back in ecstasy, her fingers gripping the back of his neck and running through his hair to his man bun.

He stood up from the bed to switch their position, laying Jada on her back on the edge of the bed while he stood between her legs.

He smirked down at her, his dark eyes filled with that look that made her pulse quicken. With ease, he unbuttoned his suit jacket, shrugging it off his broad shoulders and tossing it somewhere into the room without a second thought. The fabric whispered against the floor, but Jada barely noticed.

Next came his black T-shirt. He gripped the bottom hem and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion, revealing the sculpted lines of his chest and arms. His skin, warm and golden under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, made her breath hitch.

Jada bit her lip, her eyes drinking in the beautiful sight before her, unable to tear her gaze away.

The low lighting cast long, deep shadows across his body, accentuating every hard edge and toned muscle.

The dim glow made everything feel more intimate, more intense—like they were wrapped in their own little world, where nothing else mattered but them.

Roman’s hands slid down to her delicate ankles, his touch warm and deliberate as he brought one foot up in front of him. His fingers lingered there for a moment, tracing the curve of her ankle before he carefully slipped off her heel and let it drop to the floor with a soft thud.

Jada wiggled her toes that were accentuated by the French tips that she had got done just that morning.

"These pretty feet, fuck baby..."

Roman smirked at her, keeping eye contact while he landed a kiss on her foot that was so soft and featherlike that she almost didn’t feel it.

As he kissed her feet, warmth coursed throughout her whole body. It felt like liquid heat was running down her arms and legs as actual liquid pooled in her black lacy thong under her black dress.

It made her fingers softly grip the white silk bedsheets.

It didn’t help that he did the exact same slow teasing to her other foot.

“Unghh, Ro you’re teasing me…” Jada whined out as she grabbed her own breasts through her dress.

Roman’s smirk deepened, his lips brushing against her skin once more before he looked up at her with that dark, teasing gaze. “Baby,” he murmured, his voice smooth and laced with mischief, “I’m just doing exactly what you said earlier. Kissing you out of your clothes.”

Jada threw her head back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, feeling like she could explode at any given moment.

He wrapped her legs around his waist, leaning closer to help her get the dress off of her gorgeous brown skin.

Her hands immediately went to her perky breasts that were now topped with her erect nipples and pushed them together. This made Roman’s tongue dart out to wet his lips before he replaced her hands with his.

They fit perfectly in his hands, his tongue slowly swirling around the bud and tenderly flicking it.

“Oh my God that feels so good,” Jada breathed out, knowing that he liked to hear her talk to him.

Roman just groaned as he wrapped his lips around her nipple and sucked it into his awaiting mouth. He then kissed across the valley of her chest and made his way to the other breast and paid some attention to it.

Jada wrapped her legs tighter around his waist if that was even possible.

In kissing down her stomach, he softly talked to her. “Baby, I’m so in love with you.”

A kiss.

“I love it when you moan my name.”

A kiss.

“I love it when you arch your back when you come.”

Another kiss.

He was almost at her dripping wet core, stilled clothed by her black lacy thong.

“I love how you smell…” He placed his nose right on her pussy and breathed in the scent.

“Ooh Roman, fuck.” She whimpered out breathlessly, so sensitive to all his teasing and slow-paced foreplay.

A low rumble resonated through the room as he deeply chuckled, making Jada slightly squeeze her legs together. Roman’s hands gently went to the waistband of her thong and pulled the garment down her legs, but stopped below her knees.

He planted a kiss right on her clit and rested his hands on her heaving chest, softly gripping her breasts.

Jada’s mouth fell open at the electric feeling.

His tongue probed through her vulnerable, wet folds, gathering her essence in his mouth. Then he forced a long dribble of spit out of his mouth to land right back on her pussy, and it dripped down between her cheeks.

“Mm, baby I love watching this pussy throb for me.” He groans, his voice muffled against her thigh as he watched her hole squeeze around nothing.

“Please Ro, don’t stop,” Jada practically begged for him to put his tongue back on her.

“Be patient, princess.” He licks one slow stripe up her entire core. His skilled tongue then presses a little harder while he licked long circles, meeting her clit, then going down to lick her entrance.

He wanted her to have a long, slow orgasm.

Or two.

It was all making her head spin, his fingers stimulating her aching nipples, his tongue dragging across her clit so deliciously slow. She began to rock her hips, wanting to grind against his face so she could come.

“Unh uh. Baby, we goin’ slow tonight. Trust me, you’ll love it.” His hands left her breasts to still her hips before going back to them.

“Fuckkkk,” Jada’s moans dragged out of her, not even under her control anymore. It’s like he was keeping her there, on the edge of heaven and earth.

He leans back in, his breath hot against her ever-dripping slit. He drags his tongue again along her slit, a long, slow lick that makes her shudder and gasp. He savors her taste, the essence of her arousal coating his tongue.

He's never tasted anything so divine, and he knows he could spend hours feasting on her, bringing her again and again to the brink of ecstasy.

Her juices were like hot liquid on his tongue. “Mm, that little pussy gets so hot for me huh?”

Jada couldn’t even speak or think straight as she lay there at his mercy.

She ought to have known better than to not answer him.

His fingers go up to her lips, and she opens her mouth automatically and sucks on his index and middle fingers. “Tell me baby. Tell Daddy.” He coaxes, his voice a low, hypnotic murmur.

Jada whimpered out and nods. “Yes Daddy, only for you.” She says, his fingers still in her mouth between her beautiful lips.

He smiles and puts his tongue back on her slit. “That’s right.”

Her orgasm was building and she could tell it was gonna be a big one. Roman felt her legs begin to tense up and her body begin to shudder as she was chasing her target.

When Roman talked her through it, it helped her get over the edge even faster.

“Come on baby, that’s right.”

“Just let go.”

“Come in my mouth baby.”

These words were muffled in Jada’s ears as she arched her back and her hands gripped at the roots of her hair, her mouth forming an ‘O’, and her eyes rolling in the back of her head.

That sight of her losing herself all because of him made him feel like the only man in the world.

He massaged her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. “You’re so beautiful, princess.” He dragged her panties down the remainder of her legs and threw them on the bed. Then he crawled back up to her open mouth and latched his lips onto hers.

Roman didn’t even take his pants off, he just pulled them and his boxers down enough to free his aching, heavy cock.

Jada saw his thick manhood and her mouth watered as she licked her swollen lips. She reached her arm between her legs to stroke it.

Roman moaned out and bit his lip. “Yea, just like that,” He rocks his hips into her hand, letting her feel the effect of his arousal. He's so big, so hard, and she can feel the heat radiating off his flesh.

“You want to put it in, baby?” His voice low and sexy. She nods her head and gently pulls him forward and he helps by leaning closer.

His large hand wrapped around her delicate throat, stroking his thumb over it, as he pushed into her. They always had to pause and wait before going further since he was so thick.

He put his lips on hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth, almost swallowing all of her moans and gasps.

Her walls fit so snug around him, as he slowly pulled out, then tenderly thrust back into her heat.

He coaxed her to put her arms around him, nails digging into his back, that he was sure would leave marks.

His warm lips dragged down to her neck, sucking on her sweet spot, as he lovingly and slowly dug her out.

“Fuck, it’s so deep,” Jada moaned in his ear.

“Tell me where I’m at, baby.” He growled out, her walls squeezing even tighter around his cock. He grips her hips softly, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he pulls her into each powerful thrust.

“In my stomach…” Jada whimpers, tears threatening to fall out of her eyes out of pure ecstasy and love. He knew he was hitting that spot inside of her.

His hand went back to her neck, applying just enough pressure to make her feel lightheaded, to heighten every sensation.

His other hand snakes between her legs, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing the sensitive nub in slow, long circles.

Jada could barely take it when he made love to her like this. She was completely at his mercy, feeling every little movement, every ridge of him, the heat emanating off of his skin.

“Oh my-Roman I can’t…I can’t take it,” She half pleaded with her eyes closed, damn near seeing stars.

“Shhh. Yes you can, baby. You’re ‘bout to come again huh? Go ahead.” He coerced her. She was dripping and creaming on his cock and on the bed. He kept rubbing her clit at the same pace he was thrusting, and he saw her eyes roll back in her head for the second time.

This made him smile, watching her like she was his prisoner for this intense pleasure he was giving her.

“I love you.” Jada whispers as he continues to thrust in and out of her.

“I love you more.” His gravelly voice resonated in her ear. Feeling so overwhelmed with her love and the grip her pussy had on his cock, he couldn’t hold off his orgasm any longer.

Roman’s thrusts became a bit faster and he looked down at them connected, seeing her cream all over his cock.

“Baby, let me come inside you.” He almost whined out and it was so sexy seeing him like this when he’s usually so stone-faced.

Only she could make him get like this.

He stood back up, wanting to get better leverage. His eyebrows furrowed together and his mouth was open slightly.

“Please Roman come in me, baby.” Jada moaned, trying to talk him through it.

He felt his balls begin to tighten and that coil in his lower stomach was about to burst. He leaned back down to Jada’s lips, wanting to pour all of his moans of pure pleasure and love into her mouth.

His groans rumbled through her body as she felt his hot seed shoot into her. As he finished reveling in his orgasm, he looks down at her.

A soft smile appears on his face as he leans down, once again capturing her lips in a kiss. His hand slides from her throat to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin in a gentle caress.

Neither one of them wanted to move, content with being in each other’s arms, basking in the love that they would share forever.

The end.

[send-me-a-puffalope]

just got through a 4 hour video essay on shipwrecked 64 um. might be slightly regretting that rn cause its 3 am and i have to sleep but. 10/10, banger fucking horror game/arg. so fucking cool.

[rafesangelita]

♡ “jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock!” — in which you ride rafe speechless for being on the naughty list..

warnings: roleplay, dirty talk, established relationship, teasing, brief thigh riding, heavy petting, tit fucking, grinding, orgasm denial, rafe cries, slight degradation, unprotected sex, restraints (reader has rafe’s hands tied with a ribbon), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, slapping, scratching, hair pulling

a/n: lol i feel like i should’ve done kinkmas..

“fuck, fuck, fuck..” rafe was cursing under his breath, your soaked cunt gliding over his cock while it sat on his tummy, your clit dragging up and down the underside of his length. “please, i need to be inside you, baby.” his voice came out weak, like it was taking everything in him not to blow his load right then and there. “naughty boys don’t get what they want.” you moaned, your hips stuttering as you merely used rafe to get yourself off. rafe’s head thudded against the headboard, his jaw slack as he reveled in the feeling of you grinding on him.

“please, i’ll be good, i promise!” he gasped when you raked your nails down his chest. “yeah? you said that last year..” your laugh was nothing short of degrading, your boyfriend feeling utterly helpless as his hands were bound above his head. when the band in your stomach suddenly snapped, you were quick to move off of rafe’s cock and onto his thigh where you started dragging your hips instead. this way, he couldn’t feel the way you desperately clenched around nothing. “ohh, fuck! you’re cumming?” you ignored him, your legs trembling as your orgasm had you whimpering to yourself.

rafe squirmed, his cock aching with need as you rode out your high against his stiff muscles. “this is the only thing you’re good for, you know that?” you looked up at him, his eyes glazed over as his cheeks flushed with color. “yes, i know. i’m only here to make you feel good..” his abs constricted as he watched you get up on shaky legs, anticipation settling in his belly as you put your hair up in a ponytail. “poor rafe, your cock looks like it’s just begging for attention.” you cooed, seating yourself between his thighs.

leaning down, rafe shuddered when you took him in your hand. “i shouldn’t let you be inside me at all.. but if you’re good for me i might just let you.” sitting him between your tits, you looked up at him as you stroked him, your tongue lapping at his tip every time he emerged from the valley of your breasts. “holy fuckkk,” he hissed, “oh, it feels so good.” you taunted his whines, your tits glistening with his slick. “i’m not gonna— shit, i’m not gonna last.” he shook his head, eyebrows knitting together as his face morphed into one of full blown pleasure.

upon hearing this, you sped up your pace until he was crying out, almost completely falling off the edge before you stopped all movements, heavy tears running down his cheeks as this was the third orgasm you denied him tonight. seeing him cry out of frustration turned you on beyond belief, each tear a testament to how bad you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger. swinging a leg over his hips, you straddled him once again before pulling a handful of his hair. “look down, handsome, i want you to watch the way you fill me up..”

rafe’s hair was still threaded between your fingers when you sunk down unto him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as your heat wrapped around him. letting go of his hair, rafe hissed when you softly ran your hands down his torso, your nails digging into his skin while you sat still on top of his lap. “please do something..” it was torture being inside of you without being able to fuck you senseless. so bad, he wanted to at least have his hands on your hips, the globes of your ass looking so enticing.

“are you going to be good?” rafe nodded frantically, his chest rising and falling as he desperately muttered a ‘yes, i’ll be so good for you!’ you don’t know what possessed you to do it, but without a second thought, you slapped rafe across the cheek, the action stunning him for a moment before a hint of a smile played on his lips. the fucker liked it? oh, he was in for it now. leaning forward, rafe attempted to get one of your tits in his mouth before you smacked him away, sinking down on him once again. he shivered, gazing up at you as you started rocking on top of him.

the globes of your ass smacked his thighs, his eyes watching you mesmerized. you felt too good whenever you rode him like this, your clit hitting his pubic bone everytime you slammed back down. you were so wet, the sound reverberating in the empty space of your shared bedroom. “wanna touch you..” he groaned when you started bouncing on him faster, the familiar tension starting to coil in his abdomen. “aww, well that’s just too bad.” you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips. “m’gonna cum, baby, please i need it!” he all but whined, eyes screwing shut as you threw him over the edge of pure euphoria.

he came harder than he ever had in his life, the force of his climax hitting him like a truck. rafe was writhing beneath you, pathetic noises leaving his lips as he painted your insides white. “o-oh my fucking— nghhh, god!” he was in full on hysterics, tears falling down the corners of his eyes as you didn’t make any attempt to slow your movements. “baby— slow down, please, please, please..” he hissed, overstimulation kicking in. you smiled at him briefly, feeling your second orgasm of the night lick your tummy as it was just in arm’s reach.

eyebrows knitting together in pure unadulterated bliss, you cried out, leaning down and pressing kisses to rafe’s chest as you came, your velvety walls sucking him in as you clenched around the welcomed intrusion that was his cock. how rafe hadn’t ascended into the after life yet? he didn’t know. surely he was in heaven already, his vision fuzzy as he blinked, dazed and extremely fucked-out. rafe helplessly kissed the crown of your head, your attention flittering up to his restrained hands. once you weren’t trembling in the aftershocks of your orgasm, you reached up, untying the knot that rafe’s wrists were currently binded in.

his arms were like jelly when they fell, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as you gently ran your fingers through his hair. “if that’s the ‘punishment’ for being naughty, i think i might just act up all year—” you laid down next to him, allowing him to pull you close before you interrupted him. “don’t even think about it.”

[sukunas-wife]

Being Sukuna’s Pregnant Wife and being worshipped as a diety because you were able to conceive the four armed hulking cursed child, you must have the blessing of fertility

Having a shrine erected in your name because barren women believed you’d bless them with fertility despite your legacy starting with the child of the curse that torments them all

Telling your hand maids “Don’t bring me my clothes, bring me one of the kings robes.” The hand maids flinching and wanting to protest out of fear of taking the King of Curses robes

The poor naive young hand maid that had grown a crush on the king excitedly rushing if it meant she could enter the private bed chambers,

Scoffing with a malicious smile to your loyal maids when they shook their heads with Sympathy, they learned long before at such a request it would be foolish to go alone, at least 2 or 3 of them would need to go in your name, preferably the ones your husband recognized to be by your side the longest. But you didn’t like this new girl, she was too enthusiastic to work at the palace only to have a complete change in character when she learned she was assigned to work for you

“It’ll serve that poor girl right” you looked away from the door when your loyal hand maids brought out a wooden box with one of Sukuna’s folded Kimono’s they helped you dress your swollen belly accentuated by the belt the kimono tailored to fit your husband left you with extra space and length, it was far more comfortable then the Kimono’s and robes you were, the lingering smell of your husband with comforting as your rubbed your belly hands barely peeking from the massive sleeves

“Let’s go see my husband.” Was all you said as you started your walk, the maids followed close as you made it to the bed chambers, the door was open, you looked in, Sukuna sneering down at the girl laying in a pool of blood, Uraume was making quick work of the mess

Sukuna’s snapped to you and his arm’s opening in an unusual display of affection, you walked around the mess to reach him, he pulled you into his left side, one hand on your waist the other making you face him, bring his right hand up he rested his hand on your stomach “Some of your maids need a lesson on how to speak to their king,” he looked away from your face to your stomach as he started to move his hands in circles “So swollen with my child, it’s no wonder you send your maids to steal my robes.”

You smack his shoulder with a playful smile and he chuckled “Don’t say it like that you make me feel bigger than i am.”

“Now,” he looked up at your face again, “why are you here.”

You tilted your head to the side, “I started contractions this morning, I’ve been in pain all day and I’m barely standing, my new maid wouldn’t stop speaking so highly of my husband accomplishing having a child when I was at my worst pain level getting ready to push out YOUR child that I HAD to carry. Anyhow I came to get you because he is ready to come.”

Sukuna stared down at you confused “How do you know it’s a boy?”

“I’m his mother,” he watched as you placed your hand over his stilling his rubbing of your stomach, “I knew he was a boy from the day your seed took.”

Sukuna smirked “Is that so? Then let’s see this boy.”

🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤

After an hour of fighting the doctor tending to your birth you gave birth to your lively son, born screaming without needing stimulation to cry form the doctor. Your husband couldn’t help but laugh when he saw his child in his full glory, he was a boy indeed.

The help immediately gave you your son and you cooed at him when he took to your breast, your husband taking blankets from the maids and covered your son also covering you in the process as you struggled a bit to pass what came next. Your son a spitting image of his father, your breathy laugh caught Sukuna’s attention as he came back to your bed side stroking your hair and rubbing your stomach the way the help had been doing.

“What amuses you?” He watched his son slowly close his eyes as you coddled him closer.

“I’m the one who had to carry him for so long, and the ingrate took nothing from me.” You smiled and shook your head before looking up at Sukuna.

Soon the doctor left after clearing you of any possible issues and checking your son. “His name?” You looked at Sukuna and he sighed “Yuji”

The look of adoration in your eyes was something Sukuna would’ve wanted to capture forever if he could express the sentiment. However for now he’d settle for memorizing every detail of today. His wife birthing his first heir, the name she had chosen he permitted.

Maybe just maybe this world wasn’t so bad

[solardrop]

beanstalk.

aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: a loser at the local pub thinks spencer is your boyfriend. Aaron drags him. tags: fluff. creepy men being creepy. body shaming (of spencer I'm so sorry). spencer just catching strays in general. word count: ~1.7k a/n: based on an ask. I was gonna just write my thoughts or a short 500 word drabble or something but then ended up writing this until the point I forced myself to just end it lmao. I think it gets a bit convoluted and cringe at the end but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it was fun! not proofread. divider cred @/cafekitsune

The pub was going to the rue the day they made half-off appetizers their weekly special.

The team squeezed in two pushed-together tables and binged on the greasy delights. you and Spencer had gotten into sharp back and forth about the apocalypse on the way there, which earned the both of you a quick banishing to a corner of the table where the rest of the team wouldn’t be subject to your bickering.

You rest your head against the cool concrete pillar you were sandwiched against. A table pressed against a half-wall facing outdoors was a hard sell to a bunch of field agents. However, Penelope’s animated declaration for the team to ‘live a little’ —specifically, to do so before Rossi got any greyer— landed you a wonderful view of the outdoors. You could watch all the homey, drunken people sway to the music flowing from the patio. The crisp night air flushes the overwhelming smell of burnt grease away from your nose. Maybe you could convince Hotch to grab a window seat for some date nights, you have to admit, the vibes were growing on you. While you enjoy poking the brain of your younger genius friend, you miss the solid warmth of Aaron beside you. Thankfully, he opted to sit in front of you instead. 

You took the opportunity to tease him. You kick him playfully under the table, stealing his attention away from the conversation he is having with Derek. He turns to squint at you for a moment, only to grab your food to sandwich it between the wall and his thigh in retaliation. His fingers drum a steady rhythm against your ankle, the ticklish tap tap tap making you squirm. You motion to ensnare his ankle with your other leg when Spencer turns to point his flimsy white plastic fork at you. 

“If emergency services were still in full effect during the zombie apocalypse, there would be a drastic increase in the number of people infected and a significant loss in—”

“A significant loss in medical supplies. Spoken like a true prepper Reid. What's next, gonna tell me about the importance of learning how to pickle your own food for rationing?”

“Actually, during the Great Depression housewives pickles things that lasted their families almost—”

His impending rant is cut short by the return of your server. Anticipating the bill, Rossi reached for his wallet before the woman shakes her head at him. Instead, sliding a drink and a folded up napkin on the table and nodding her head at you. 

“For the lovely young miss by the window.” She flashes a smile at you, “One of our lovely patons seems to fancy you.”

All eyes snap to you, all the color draining from your face as you stare down at the offending item. The drink was almost glowing at you, bright pink glitter swirling in the liquid with pink gummy hearts floating at the top and crystal sugar bedazzling the rim. There was no way this was actually something for the human body to consume. Even Penelope’s brows raised in shock at its extreme display. 

You glance at Hotch, his leg picking up a steady bounce next to yours after the waitresses revelation. His face is hardened, jaw rocking back and forth as he glares at the folded paper next to the drink. You clear your throat and face the woman again.

“Can you tell me who sent this?”

She juts her sharp chin over your head towards one of the outdoor tables. Hotch’s neck cranes around before your own, and you lock eyes with an older man sitting a few tables down. His face was unpleasantly square, the outdated sandy mullet crowning his head doing him no favors either. He raises his beer bottle towards you with a wink. You shiver, scooting closer to Spencer when the admirer hauls himself out of his stool to stride towards you. Aaron has turned almost fully towards outside now, his brow raised.

“Ohh this is gonna be good,” JJ whispers from the other side of Reid. The comment earns her a sharp glare from Hotch, a blush burning in her cheeks as she goes back to nursing her cheeto-crusted mozzarella sticks.

“I just don’t understand,” Spencer starts, “There are seven other people at this table including men at this table why would he be bold enough to-”

A sharp knock sounder off the ledge of the short wall. 

“Well, hello darlin’. I don’t mean to interrupt the dinner with your friends here, Hello friends, m’  names Miles!” He flashed his eyes around the table with a toothy, mustached smile. 

“But i couldn’t help but see your pretty little face in this window ‘ere and I had to buy ya’ a drink!” 

“Ah… Thank you but um-”

“Don’t even sweat it beautiful!” Small specs of saliva fly from his mouth, causing even Spencer to jump back pulling on the hem of your shirt. As if to use you as a human shield from the germs the man was spewing in his general direction. Hooray. Your hero. 

“I even wrote my number on that there lil’ napkin for ya’. My momma raised a gentleman, so I gotta buy you more than a lil liquor before I take you down.” His beady eyes shoot down to your cleavage before snapping back to your face, licking his lip. 

The fingers on your ankles pause at this. Aaron stares down the side of the mans face, lips pressd into a fine line spread across his face. You decide to jump in before your boyfriend takes it upon himself to tear the mystery man a new one.

“Listen, I appreciate the sentiment but, I’m here to have dinner with my friends and my boyfriend so… I could pay you back for the drink? No harm done-”

“Boyfriend!?” He steps back, eyes scanning the table once more before landing on Spencer and snorting. 

“This lil’ stringbean? You can’t possibly be serious” He smiles at Spencer before he continues “Jack and the beanstalk here could barely muscle steel so ya’ll stuck him with plastic,” He waves a crooked finger aimlessly around the table, “And you expect me to believe he’s wrangling a fine figure like yourself down every night?”

That seems to hit a sore spot for Reid, who finally peeps his head from around you. He takes the moment to ramble about the millions of germs and pathogens that could be found on community utensils even after a full wash cycle. Much to the dismay of the creep and team alike, so much so that Derek had to nudge him with his foot. With the conclusion of Spencer’s monologue the man continues

“Anyways, darlin’ for one night let me take you for a spin. Lil' boy like that won't do ya' any good. I promise you only a bigger, older man knows how to really take care of someone crafted as fine as you.” His eyes lower to your chest again and stay there. 

“I assure you she already knows that,” Aaron spits. 

Your eyes snap to his face. He seemd deceptively calm now, his expression almost bored. 

“Pardon?” Miles asks, half-heartedly turning his body towards him. 

“I’ll put it like this for you Miles. Stringbean over here isn’t her boyfriend,” Spencer begins to squeak out in opposition to his new pet name, but Hotch’s voice bellows out above his own, “I know you’re pathetic, that was apparent from the moment you walked up here puffing your chest after buying the cheapest drink on the menu as a gift. But I’m almost surprised you made your impotence so obvious too, considering you made eye contact with everyone you view as non threatening, the women, the man in his late years, the kid.”

Aaron lazily cocks his head towards Morgan, “But not me and my friend here in the corner. But I’m sure you thought you got away with that. Now, I’d suggest you move. The cologne you sprayed to mask the smell of Motel 8 is starting to wear off.”

Your ears warm at his words. Every sharp word honeyed by his calm, almost sweet tone. He spoke as if he was reading the well thought out profile of an elusive crimminal instead of just some ass in a sit down. God you wanted to kiss him. He’d have to let team politics go just this once right? Just a thank you peck. 

Before you can move to move ask him for one, Miles sputters out, “Talkin’ to me like I’m some dumbass— Who the hell d’ya think you are man!?”

Each syllable causes a spray of spit to launch out his mouth, forcing you to scoot even closer to spencer to evade the line of fire. His face shines with sweat and grease, red rising from his shirt collar as he barks at Hotch’s words. 

“I’m her man. Her bigger, older man. But I’m sure you already knew that, since you still refuse to look at me.” Aaron reaches down into his pockets, flipping out his credentials with deft fingers, “And I’m also an agent. As is everyone at the table including the woman you’ve spent the past several minutes sexually harassing.” He scowls, “Now, go sit down and shut the hell up.”

Miles' eyes finally rip away from you to meet his now. The angered flush erupts across his whole body now. He opens his mouth several times before closing it again, iced out by the cold stare Hotch gives him. He turns on his heel and marches back to his table without a fight. He sniffs his collar before jumping back in clear disgust.

A beat passes and the whole table erupts into laughter at the absurd happenings. Aaron’s face softens, still frowning in the general direction of the slimy man. Jolting when Derek claps him on the back and shakes him in praise. 

“Alright Hotch! Racing to defend your girl, I didn’t know you had it like that!”

“Well, I’m not surprised,” You stretch across the table to grasp his hand, kissing his knuckles before he could protest. He envelopes your hand in both of his and gives you a warm smile,  “my man is my hero in and out of the field.” He breathes out a laugh, knocking his knee against yours for your teasing. 

“Next time, you and String Bean get into it, we’re doing a different seating arrangement.”

[domjaehyun]

under the influence (l.dh)

PAIRING ▸ stoner!haechan x fem!reader WORD COUNT ▸ 11.6k WARNINGS ▸ a hint of dubcon (she’s timid but very much likes the attention), pervy!dom!haechan, shy!sub!reader, slight dacryphilia, corruption kink, finger sucking, oral (giving & receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, nipple play (receiving), marking, some cum eating, spit play, groping in public, panty stealing & sniffing PLAYLIST ▸ FYS - john concepcion, sweet release - kevin ross NOTES ▸ hii i hope you enjoy! any and all positive feedback is greatly appreciated, so send me an ask if you liked it or let me know in the tags pretty please :) 

As you press the button to call the elevator, you start to get the jitters. They start in your fingertips and travel up your arms to the back of your neck, making the fine hairs there stand on end, and you shudder slightly, shaking your head in an attempt to do away with the sensation.

The doors open with a ding, and you jump at the sound, making Yeri look over at you in alarm.

“Are you okay?” she asks, worries, and you nod, albeit a bit too quickly and vigorously to be convincing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say with a frown, and she rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. “Nothing!” you insist.

“You’re a horrible liar,” Karina reminds you, and your frown deepens. “But if you say so, I guess.” 

Relieved, you follow Yeri and Karina into the elevator and lean into the back corner of the shaft, resting your back against where the two walls meet. 

“We should watch a movie today,” Karina suggests excitedly, and she and Yeri fall into a discussion that you would join if you weren’t busy thinking about Haechan and whatever stunts he’s going to pull today. 

It takes three calls of your name from Karina and a vigorous shake from Yeri to snap you out of it, and you look at them sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Girl, where do you keep going? Every time I look over at you, you’re in la-la land.” Yeri asks, concerned and amused.

“Sorry, I was just… thinking.” you mumble.

“We know that,” Yeri says with a chuckle and roll of her eyes. “Thinking about what, hm?” she presses, and you balk.

“She’s probably thinking about Haechan and what stunts he’s gonna pull today.” Karina supposes, and you frown, upset you’ve been caught.

In your defense, Haechan is always up to shenanigans when you’re around; he pulls at your skirt to fluster you, plays with your hair to get your attention, strokes under your chin just to watch your eyes glaze over—you name it, he’s either done it or is probably thinking about it.

You can’t honestly say his advances are unwelcome because, well, you’ve had a crush on him for the past six months. But something about him is so intense, so jarringly locked in, that it makes you hesitate, and being the object of his full and undivided attention never fails to make you the shyest version of yourself, and you manage to make a fool of yourself almost every single time you get around him, and you have no idea how you’re going to deal with his antics today. 

“Girl.” Karina’s voice cuts through the fog in your brain and you blink hard, focusing on your friend’s concerned expression. “You’re doing it again.”

“Oh. Sorry,” you mutter, rubbing your arm awkwardly. “I’m here, for real.”

As the bell dings and the doors open, the three of you file out of the elevator, walking towards the end of the hall to your destination.

“If you need help with him, let us know. We can make up a code word!” Karina suggests helpfully, and you smile, endeared by your friend’s attempt to calm your nerves.

“What should it be?” you wonder, and she screws her face up thoughtfully.

“Blinker.” Yeri answers, and you both turn to look at her. “It should be blinker. Like, if he’s getting too close and you can’t handle it, you can just say you kinda wanna try hitting a blinker or something like that.”

“The last time I hit a blinker, I coughed for ten minutes straight and it was the most painful experience of my life.” Karina recalls, grimacing at the memory. “It’s perfect.”

“Great.” Yeri says, smiling reassuringly at you before the three of you stop in front of the apartment door. Without a second thought, Yeri knocks three times on the door, stepping back to where you two are standing and waits with you for someone to open the door.

It opens a moment later to reveal Haechan standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe and the other holding the door, and you wonder how such a simple stance has you short of breath.

He looks at Karina and Yeri, smiling pleasantly, before he locks eyes with you. Slowly wetting his lips, his eyes slowly drag up and down your frame, taking in your outfit and appearance before he meets your gaze once more and drops one eyelid into a flirtatious wink.

“Come on in,” he invites, stepping back to let Karina and Yeri in. When it’s your turn to pass, he moves closer, deliberately blocking part of your way so you have to brush by him to enter, and you’re sure it’s also no coincidence that he’s positioned himself so your chest has to brush against his. You swallow your nerves and continue walking past him, not daring to look back in case he’s looking at you; which, if today is anything like every other day you all hang out, he most certainly is. 

Shutting the door behind you, Haechan follows after the three of you into the living room, but waits, standing, by the chair where Mark sits—for what, you don’t know. You wave hello to Mark in his favorite armchair and Jeno on one end of the couch, who greet you pleasantly and resume their tasks of packing the bong and rolling a joint, respectively. Mildly confused but saying nothing at Haechan’s behavior, you take a seat at the other end of the couch, only for Haechan to move at last, crossing the living room to sit directly next to you.

Your throat dries up at the prospect of being so close to him, and you inhale shakily, wanting desperately to roll your eyes back in your head when you catch a whiff of his intoxicating cologne.

Haechan doesn’t say anything for a moment, just rests one elbow on his knee and observes you with his cheek in his palm. His expression is nothing short of desiring as he takes in your appearance, your burgundy pleated skirt and short-sleeved cream blouse apparently quite the fascinating little number to him, causing you to shift awkwardly in your seat and self-consciously tug your skirt down a bit.

“Relax,” he chuckles. “I’m staring at you because you look good,” Haechan compliments, eyeing you appreciatively. “You always look good, though, but today… damn.”

You blink at him, stunned by the flirtatious lilt to his voice, and mumble, “Oh.”

“Oh?” he mimics you, chuckling, and you furrow your brows, frowning at his teasing. His brows lift up as his face brightens with amusement, and he shakes his head slowly with a smile.

“Thank you.” you say softly, and he nods, smile widening. 

“You’re so cute.” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. Your eyes dart around, looking everywhere but at him, but he recaptures your attention when he snickers quietly and you meet his gaze to see he’s no longer looking at your eyes, but your lips, and there’s a distinct longing in his stare that unnerves you and, if you’re honest, piques your curiosity. “Did you make it here okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, eyes shifting back and forth from his eyes to your lap before you give into temptation and look at his lips, regretting it instantly when they quirk up into a smirk as he catches you looking. “The bus was basically empty, and it had heating today.”

“Mm, that’s good to hear,” he muses, running his fingers through his hair, and you attempt to hide the way you swallow thickly at the attractive sight. “We don’t want anyone pressing up against such a pretty girl and trying anything sleazy, right?”

“Um…” you trail off, managing to restrain the reply on the tip of your tongue that Haechan is probably the most likely candidate to press up against you and try something sleazy.

“...Right.” he finishes for you, and you nibble your bottom lip.

“...Right.” you echo, and he grins. 

“So… Do you wanna smoke?” he asks.

“I do,” you confirm shyly, and he smiles slightly, no doubt amused by your nervousness.

“Good girl. Did you wanna hit my pen? It’s pretty strong.” he offers, and you won’t lie—your brain blanks for a minute at the praise, but you’re pretty sure you manage to recover just in time for Haechan not to notice anything.  

“Okay,” you reply hesitantly, and he grins.

“Great—give me one second to get something.” he says before standing up and heading to the back of the apartment to his room. You wait fairly patiently, fingers lightly drumming on your knee as you wait for him to return.

“What’s up?” Mark asks curiously.

“Haechan’s getting something from his room.” you explain, and Mark nods slowly, lips pursed thoughtfully.

Haechan returns from the back of the apartment after a moment with a new cartridge in his hand. You watch with mild fascination as he deftly switches the cartridges in his pen, taking a test pull and holding it in for so much time, you’d swear he’s trying to show off.

When he looks over at you and winks before blowing it out, your suspicions are confirmed. 

“This strain is special,” Haechan murmurs to you, and his eyes drop to your lips as he continues, “it’s a ‘horny’ strain.”

“A horny strain?” you mumble, confused, and he nods with a grin.

“It heightens libido.” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Want some?”

“That’s not real,” Mark calls out from across the living room, and you crane your head to see him. “There’s no actual science to back that up.”

Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No one signed up for your TEDTalk on weed; save it.”

Mark grumbles something about misinformation being the death of society but remains otherwise silent.

Haechan calls your attention back to him with a simple clearing of the throat, and you look back at him to see his gaze heavy-lidded and sultry as he regards you, and you start to wonder if Mark might actually be the misinformed one.

“Want some?” he repeats his question from earlier, and you hesitate, making him roll his eyes and chuckle. “It’s not gonna bite you.” As you shift closer to take the pen from him, he holds it out of your reach with a glint in his eye. “I might, though,” he murmurs, and you swallow thickly.

He scans your frame, eyes lingering on your almost outstretched hand, and takes a slow, deep pull from the pen, not holding it in for nearly as long before he’s leaning towards you suddenly, making you yelp and draw back.

“Relax,” he mumbles, some of the smoke slipping from his mouth. He cups your chin in his hand and tugs gently to get you to open your mouth before leaning closer, so close that you fear your lips might touch, leading you to attempt to pull back; however, Haechan’s grip on your chin tightens, a clear sign to stay where you are, and he blows the smoke into your mouth slowly. You’re deeply flustered at first, but your instincts kick in as you inhale the secondhand smoke, holding it in your lungs for a couple of seconds before blowing it back out.

When you’re done exhaling, you expect to pull back, but Haechan’s grip on you hasn’t loosened, the male now studying your lips with an intensity in his gaze that gives you a twinge of anxiety and something else you don’t have it in you to identify. 

“You ever shotgunned before?” he asks softly, and you shake your head as much as his hold on you will allow. “You did a good job.”

“Thanks,” you mumble meekly. “Can you let me go now?”

He rolls his eyes slowly, lips quirking into a cocky grin as he does just that, releasing your chin and sitting back. “If you say so.”

“Thanks,” you mutter quietly, and he flicks his brows upwards in acknowledgement, gaze scanning you before lingering for a moment by the side of your face. “What is it?”

“You have something in your hair,” he says, gesturing to near your ear. When you fail to retrieve the foreign object, he tsks in dissatisfaction before leaning over and gently removing a single white feather from your hair. “Probably from the pillows.” he explains, the backs of his fingers gently grazing your ear as he pulls back. When you squirm away from his touch slightly, the contact too sensitive and ticklish, Haechan chuckles softly. “Look how nervous I make you.” His fingers return to your ear, gently stroking the shell of your ear, and your face blazes with embarrassment and something else as he hums softly. “Even your ear is hot. Do I make you hot anywhere else?” He drops his hand, fingers lightly skimming your upper thigh, and you just about jump out of your skin, cursing internally when you see the delight in his expression.

“Thanks for getting the feather out of my hair,” you say in a desperate attempt to navigate the conversation elsewhere, but it seems Haechan isn’t quite set on letting you off that easily.

“Oh, come on,” he presses, sitting closer to you and leaning so close you can smell his (delicious) cologne. “Don’t tell me your heart isn’t racing right now.”

It is, you think grimly. That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.

“Haechan, leave the poor girl alone,” Karina calls from the other end of the couch, and the momentary waver in Haechan’s attention on you as his eyes dart elsewhere is all you need to scoot further back and smooth your skirt out with a vigorous clearing of your throat.

When Haechan looks back over at you, you’ve thankfully managed to regain a semblance of your composure, your gaze politely but pointedly focused at your hands in your lap.

“Pretty girl, you want another hit of the pen?” Haechan offers, and you think back to the way Haechan clutched your chin earlier to shotgun you, finally shaking your head in refusal. “Okay,” he relents, reaching into his back pocket for something and frowning before pulling out an empty hand. “I have something for you.” he says before standing up and heading back to his room.

He emerges once more with a half of a red gummy cube sticking out of his mouth, sitting back down on the couch and draping his arm over the back so it’s ghosting just over your shoulders. “Bite,” he urges through closed teeth, and you shoot him a wary look. “Bite,” he stresses, and you falter, not sure if you should.

“Is it an edible?” you ask cautiously, and he rolls his eyes, an amused chuckle leaving him. 

“Yes. Bite.” It’s not a request, and instead of getting huffy about him bossing you around, you’re more surprised than anyone else when you lean in and carefully bite the other end of the gummy, tugging your half away from his mouth before chewing it. It’s sweet and sugary, but there’s a definite strong aftertaste, a tongue-drying, almost numbing sensation that reminds you it was more than just a little snack. “See, you don’t mind sharing with me, right?”

You don’t answer, instead sitting back and pulling out your phone to fire off a quick text to your group chat consisting of the two girls sitting a little ways away from you and your fourth roommate, Yurin, who usually frequents these hangout sessions but had to pass this time to study for midterms.

you [18:11pm] SOS

you [18:11pm] he keeps being all TOUCHY TOUCHY what do i do?

You set your phone down on the couch face down and stand up, heading to the bathroom to calm your nerves. 

Little do you know, your phone buzzes while you’re gone, Haechan’s curiosity getting the better of him as he flips your phone over. 

Luckily for him, and very unluckily for you, you don’t have a privacy setting on your Messages app notifications, meaning that any incoming texts can be read by any prying eyes, no passcode necessary.

yurin big trouble mister [18:14pm] maybe tell him how you get all TOUCHY TOUCHY with yourself to the thought of him 😁

karina bo bina [18:16pm] god could you be any more crass??

yurin big trouble mister [18:17pm] LMAOOO i couldn’t help it the joke was right there

yeri berry [18:18pm] you’re laughing. our dear friend is about to get consumed by a weed smoking incubus and you’re laughing.

Haechan snorts to himself in amusement, deliberately leaving your phone face-up for your return. You enter the room shortly after, picking up your phone and scrolling through your notifications with a small frown bordering on a grimace.

“What’s got you all upset, pretty?” Haechan asks, feigning curiosity, and you flinch, locking your phone and tossing it in your lap in a panic. “And now you’re jumpy, too? What’s on that phone that’s got you so stressed out, hm?” 

“Nothing,” you answer far too quickly for your liking. 

“I don’t think it’s nothing,” Haechan persists, voice lowering in pitch and volume as he moves closer to you, eyes bright with excitement and something else you can’t quite place. “I think there’s something incriminating on that phone.”

“Incriminating?” you mumble, dazed and flustered, and Haechan nods slowly, lips curling into a wolfish grin. 

“Incriminating like… nudes, maybe,” he muses, tapping his chin thoughtfully, and at the sight of your confused face, shakes his head. “That must not be it. Maybe a message of some sort… from a friend…” You freeze as you realize exactly what’s going on, and Haechan’s grin only widens now that he can tell you know that he knows. “Wonder what you look like when you… how did she put it? ‘Get all touchy touchy with yourself’ to the thought of me.” 

“Haechan,” you murmur, heart rate quickening as you try to think of any possible way out of this conversation. “It’s not what you think it is.”

“I think it’s exactly what I think it is.” he counters with a mischievous wiggle of his brows, and you whimper in panic, desire starting to blaze in his eyes at the sound. 

“What were you doing looking at my phone, anyway?” you accuse, cursing to yourself as your voice shakes slightly.

“I’m nosy,” is all he offers in response. “And, oh, please, you wanted me to see that text. You wanted me to know that late at night,” he teases, pulling your hand closest to him away as you squeal and try to cover your ears, “you touch your pretty little pussy,” he forces your hand back down between you two with a chuckle, “and think about me.”

“Could you lower your voice, please?” you mumble nervously, and he just laughs.

“You don’t want everyone to know that you’re into me, do you?” he remarks, and you swallow thickly, looking down at your lap. “I’ll keep your little secret. For a price.”

You study him out of the corner of your eye suspiciously. “What price?”

He strokes his chin thoughtfully before leaning back and draping his arm behind you on the couch. “I’ll let you know.” His voice is teasing but there’s an ominous edge to his voice that makes you gulp.

“Hey, Yeri?” you call, and her attention is on you instantly. “Remember when, um, you hit that blinker earlier? How’s your throat feeling?”

Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly in understanding and she rubs her throat gingerly, frowning deeply. “It’s still sore. Wanna come get some water with me?”

“Yes,” you accept the offer gratefully and practically spring up from the couch, following after Yeri and ignoring, to the best of your ability, Haechan’s little snicker from behind you.

“You wanna switch seats?” Yeri asks in a low, concerned voice as you two enter the kitchen, and she laughs when you hesitate.

“I mean, I like it, I just… need a quick break.” you mumble, and she nods, pouring herself a glass of water. “Could you guys, um, hear him earlier?”

“No… why?” she scrutinizes you, and you blink, flustered. 

“He saw the group chat texts.” you mutter, and her eyes widen in alarm, setting her glass down a bit too harshly, the loud clink resonating throughout the room.

“I’m gonna kill Yurin.” she hisses.

“Not if I get there first.” you huff, and she snickers. Footsteps sound out from the living room, making their way to the kitchen, and Yeri pauses. “It’s not Haechan,” you assure her. “I think it’s Karina.”

Sure enough, Karina enters the kitchen, and Yeri looks at you in surprise. “How’d you know?”

“I recognize the footsteps.” you explain with a shrug. “Plus, the guys are wearing house slippers and we’re in, like, socks, so it makes a different sound.”

“Okay, little miss super spy.” Yeri teases with a laugh, and you giggle, pushing her playfully. “Have you recovered, you think?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, smiling. “I’m ready to go back out there.”

“What’d I miss?” Karina whines, and Yeri looks at you expectantly.

“Haechan saw the texts about me… at night… that Yurin sent.” you explain carefully, and Karina lets out a loud gasp, her hand flying to cover her mouth.

“I’m killing her.” she groans, and you and Yeri chuckle.

“Get in line, girl.” Yeri says, and Karina snorts in amusement.

“You’re gonna be okay if we go back out there, right?” Karina asks worriedly, and you’re briefly overcome with appreciation for your friends.

“I’ll be okay, I’m pretty sure. I’ll just say blinker again if anything goes wrong.” you confirm, nodding resolutely, and the crease between Karina’s brows fades away as she relaxes.

You three make your way back to the living room, fully preparing to sit back down, but thankfully, before Haechan can torment you further, Jeno inadvertently saves your life and whatever’s left of your dignity by standing up from the couch abruptly and clapping his hands together. “I’m hungry. Diner?”

“I would kill for waffles,” Karina agrees, and Mark and Haechan also stand and start to grab their belongings as you all make your way to the door and slip your shoes on. 

As you shuffle between Yeri and Karina for protection and wait as the elevator descends to the indoor garage of the apartment complex, a tickle starts to build in your throat, making you clear it quietly, then more insistently when the sensation persists. 

“You okay?” Haechan asks, hand poised over your back to pat it in assistance, and you nod.

“My throat is just… a little dry,” you mumble, and Haechan nods in understanding, reaching into his jacket and handing you a Blow Pop. “Thanks,” you mutter, pleasantly surprised as you unwrap the lollipop and stick it into your mouth. By the time the doors open on the garage floor, the flavored saliva produced by the sweet treat sitting in your cheek has almost entirely soothed your throat, and you’re feeling significantly better. 

The six of you make your way to where Jeno’s and Haechan’s cars are parked beside each other and stand behind the two cars, silently deliberating amongst yourselves.

“Well, I call shotgun.” Mark calls out, and Jeno unlocks his car, Mark sliding into the passenger seat.

“There’s no way all six of us are gonna cram into Jeno’s car,” Yeri remarks incredulously. 

“Yeah, definitely not, because my middle backseat’s seat belt isn’t working and the airbag sensors are fucked up, so it’s a seat belt or nothing in my car.” Jeno laments, and your skin starts to crawl as you realize where this might be heading. 

“So your car only seats four… and there are six of us…” you say slowly, pulling the lollipop from your lips with a muted wet pop that has Haechan eyeing you like a lion about to corner the slowest gazelle of the herd. Usually, there are seven of you, so even if you had to ride with Haechan, there’d be a third body present in the form of the lovably boisterous Yurin.

Curse Yurin’s midterms, and curse Yurin for sending that text, and curse yourself for leaving your phone where Haechan could see, and curse Haechan for being nosy—

“I’ll ride with Haechan,” Karina offers, noticing the way you become more and more quiet as you sink further into your worries. 

“No, you won’t.” Haechan says, leaning against his passenger door. Everyone looks over at him, and he just pushes off of the door, opening it and pointing directly at you. “Get in.”

“Oh, gosh.” you mumble, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed effect making you feel sluggish or you’re really that apprehensive, but you feel a bit like a puppet with sandbags for shoes, your feet hesitantly shuffling, dragging, scuffling towards Haechan’s passenger door.

“It’s an eight-minute drive,” Yeri calls to you sympathetically, and you nod, shooting her a feeble thumbs up that you don’t even believe. “We’ll see you soon!” 

“Yeah,” you croak, feeling very much like a lamb being led to slaughter, and Haechan smiles sweetly at you, baring all his teeth as you sit in his car. He closes the passenger door and crosses over to the driver’s side, opening the door and getting in. 

When Haechan finishes settling down into the driver’s seat, checking his mirror views and pulling up the GPS to the diner, he straps himself in and looks over at you, eyes scanning your frame for something—you don’t quite know what. Seemingly done with his inspection, he leans closer to you without warning and reaches for the seat belt buckle in your chair, pulling it out and over your body as he clicks it into place. The whole while, he’s invading your personal space, your breath catching in your throat as you realize his face is close enough to yours that you could probably count his lashes if you wanted to.

He turns his head ever so slightly, eyes locking on yours, and you blink rapidly in alarm, rendered immobile as he studies your face.

“You look so cute, all innocent and helpless like this.” he murmurs softly, and the tiniest of squeaks escapes you, his eyes flashing with glee at the sound. “Now stop looking at me like that,” he warns, “or I’ll kiss you.”

You blanch, trying immediately to make any other expression than the one you didn’t even know you were sporting, and he chuckles before sitting back in his seat and starting his car. He turns the air conditioning on—a strange choice, considering it’s a bit nippy outside—and pulls out of his spot, starting to drive towards the diner.

It doesn’t take long for you to get cold, goosebumps gradually appearing on your arms and legs, but you’re a bit too nervous to say anything, instead suffering in silence. You clasp your hands together in your lap, rubbing them together for warmth, and, as he stops at a red light, Haechan looks over at you, watching in fascination as you shift in your seat for any sort of friction that could warm you. After a moment, you notice his eyes fixated pointedly on your chest, and you spare a glance down to see, to your alarm, that your nipples are hard, starting to poke through your clothing, and you curse internally for wearing a thin, lacy bra that does nothing to conceal your stiffened buds.

He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, smirking in what seems like satisfaction, before refocusing his attention on the road. You cross your arms over your chest protectively, tucking your fingers into the crooks of your elbows as he drives down the road.

“We’re here,” he announces after some time, pulling into a parking spot in front of the diner and turning the car off. The cold air blowing through the vents shuts off, much to your relief, and you unbuckle your seat belt before he gets the chance, practically flinging yourself out of the car into the significantly less cold night air.

As you all file into the diner, you notice a man staring very pointedly at you and your bare legs and your chest, where your nipples have yet to go down. 

Haechan scans the room, catches sight of the man, and follows his gaze back to where you stand, his jaw clenching.

“Put this on,” Haechan murmurs, shrugging off his jacket and offering it to you. You start to take it, eager for warmth, but pause, looking at him suspiciously.

“Why?”

His gaze flicks over your shoulder at where the man from earlier sits, and understanding dawns on you. “Just—put it on for me?” 

You nod, gratefully accepting the jacket, and Haechan steps closer, draping it over your shoulders and helping you put your arms through the sleeves. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, and he nods.

“You look cute in my jacket.” he remarks with a small smirk, and your cheeks warm.

“Thank you,” you mumble, and he trails his tongue along his bottom lip before gesturing for you to follow after him with a jerk of his head, a quick peek past him revealing the hostess who’s arrived to take you all to your seats.

When you arrive at the booth, Haechan’s right by you, gesturing for you to go in first. You do so without complaint, preferring the inner seat anyway, but it’s when Haechan slides in next to you that you realize your mistake as he closes you into the booth corner, the main obstacle between you and freedom from, well, him.

As the hostess passes out menus and you all start to look them over, you feel the side of his hand resting against the side of your thigh, making you attempt to shift away from his hand, the touch too intimate for you to handle at the moment.

Somehow, his hand finds its way back against your leg, palm turned up slightly as he lightly grazes his fingertips along your thigh, and you suck in a sharp breath, doing your best to pass it off as a cough when Haechan looks over at you, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“I think I’m gonna get the breakfast platter,” Yeri says excitedly. “It comes with pancakes, eggs prepared how you want them, homefries, and your choice of meat.” 

“That sounds so good,” you reply thoughtfully. “I think I want a burger.” 

“Yeah, a burger sounds good,” Haechan agrees, eyes slowly sliding over to study your reaction as he flattens his palm against your leg, slowly sliding it up to caress your upper thigh. Your reaction must be nothing short of rewarding, as you jolt so forcefully that you shake the table slightly, and he chuckles softly.

“You okay, girl?” Karina asks, worried, and you nod, swallowing thickly.

“I just, um…felt a tickle on my ankle. Thought it was a bug or something.” you mumble, and she nods, eyebrows still furrowed in concern.

“I know I said waffles earlier, but I kind of want these barbecue ribs,” Karina says, pointing at an entry on the menu, but you can barely make your gaze focus on where her finger touches the menu because Haechan’s hand is still very much on your thigh, and to make matters worse, you think you like it.

His hand slides up higher, the side of his thumb slipping under the hem of your skirt, and you raise your glass to your lips in an attempt to act natural, hoping and praying no one notices the way your hand is shaking slightly.

Haechan leans in closer to you, murmuring in your ear, “This must be a dream come true for you, huh?” He grips your thigh firmly, not even attempting to play it off as a casual touch anymore, and you barely manage to stifle your yelp of surprise in time. “Must have been wanting this for so long,” he breathes secretively, smiling lips grazing the shell of your ear so subtly, no one else would notice unless they were paying unnaturally close attention.

You, however, do notice. Not only do you notice, but you suck in a sharp breath of surprise, the sudden movement making the water in your cup slosh forward and spill out slightly, a few droplets dripping down your chin.

You suck your teeth in mild irritation, glaring at Haechan as you reach for your napkin, but he’s faster, his free hand coming up and wiping the liquid off of your chin.  

“Um, thanks.” you mumble, and he nods, locking eyes with you as he licks at the pad of his thumb, cleaning off the water droplets with his mouth. “Oh, dear Neptune.” you whisper to yourself, feeling more and more overwhelmed by the moment. “Where is this waitress—I need to eat something.”

“Yeah, we should let her know we’re ready to order,” Mark says, waving a hand out to flag down the waitress. As she approaches, you sneak a peek at Haechan, whose expression is surprisingly calm and neutral given the sensual, slow circles he’s drawing on your upper thigh with his thumb.

Haechan’s hand slips further in between your legs, getting dangerously close to your core, and you decide that’s enough play time for him, clamping your legs together forcefully.

“You trapped my hand, pretty girl,” he points out with a growing grin, and you ignore him even as he continues, “I didn’t know you liked it that much.”

You still don’t give him a response, staring stubbornly out the booth window, and he chuckles before withdrawing his hand from your legs with such ease that you wonder if he was ever really stuck there.

“Oh, we’re doing the silent treatment? Copy that.” he muses, nodding slowly in understanding, and you can’t help but wonder what else he has in store for you.

Today, the energy in the room is entirely different—and you don’t like it one bit.

Haechan won’t even acknowledge you today; his eyes skip over you when he scans the room like you’re not even there, or, worse, he seems to be looking completely through you at times, completely unaffected by your presence.

“Girl, did you piss Haechan off or something?” Yeri whispers to you, and your brows knit together as you shake your head. “He hasn’t made a single move on you all day.”

“I know,” you mutter bitterly.

“Maybe he’s sick,” Karina supplies in an attempt to help, but her words practically fall on deaf ears as you stare burning holes into the side of his face as he laughs at something Mark said.

“I’m about to be sick,” you mumble, your stomach twisting uncomfortably as your somewhat secret crush that used to be obsessed with you treats you like you’re nothing more than a couch cushion.

You don’t know what’s come over you, but when Haechan gets up and heads towards the kitchen. you find yourself standing to follow, mumbling that you’ll be right back to Karina.

Haechan stands with his back to you at the kitchen island, pouring a can of something—it looks like Monster—into a glass, and you take a moment to admire his slender yet lean build, the curve of his shoulders and the perfectly mussed up state of his hair—

“I know you’re there, you know.” he says calmly, and your eyes widen as you immediately attempt to look busy doing anything other than blatantly ogling him. He turns right when you’ve reached for a bag of Ruffles chips and raises an eyebrow expectantly. “You have something you want to say?”

“What do you mean?” you ask, slightly thrown off-guard, and he blinks at you impassively.

“I noticed you staring at me,” is all he says in response, and you blanch, pursing your lips carefully.

“Haechan, are you mad at me?” you ask softly, and he smirks.

“And why do you ask that?”

You fidget with the hem of your skirt nervously, averting your gaze to look at the granite countertop. “Well, you… haven’t talked to me all night.”

Haechan doesn’t say anything for a concerningly long time, prompting you to look up at him and immediately wish you hadn’t. He looks beyond smug, and painfully attractive as he leans in slightly, not close enough to get in your space but close enough to send a thrill down your spine. 

“You were giving me the silent treatment the other day, right?” he reminds you, and you hesitate, realizing you were the cause for his radio silence. “I was just returning the favor.”

“Well, don’t.” you say with a frown, and he raises his eyebrows, amused and surprised.

“Why not? Did you miss me or something?” he teases, and you balk, losing all your nerve as quickly as you’d found it.

“No!” you answer quickly, and he arches an eyebrow skeptically, prompting you to continue, “No, I just—”

“You and I don’t really talk much, anyway,” Haechan muses, leaning his back against the island as he regards you with a cocky glint in his eyes. “So what is it you really miss, hm?”

“Well—” you struggle to find your words, and something softens in Haechan’s gaze, the cocky twinkle now accompanied with a smile bordering dangerously on fondness.

“You miss me messing with you, don’t you?” he asks, and at your lack of response, nods in confirmation. “You miss me touching you?” he questions, dragging out the syllables excruciatingly slowly. He sucks his teeth when you still don’t reply and says, “I know you do. You know you do. Now just admit it.”

“I can’t,” you protest weakly, and he shrugs, raising his hands in surrender.

“You want me to touch you again? Give me what I want.” He sounds dead serious and painfully unwavering on his stance, prompting you to whimper quietly to yourself, too wrapped up in your own nerves to notice the way his eyes darken at the sound of your desperation.

“I want you to touch me.” you mumble shamefully, and his lips quirk up into the beginnings of a smile. 

“Come here; say it again.” he urges, beckoning you closer, and you hesitate, making a challenge flash in his expression before he’s poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek and chuckling. “Don’t make me come over there.”

“I want you,” you say, “to touch me,” you repeat your words from earlier, trying desperately to look anywhere but at him.

You can see him crossing the distance between you in your peripheral vision, your insides tensing with anticipation as he gets closer and closer. To your utter disappointment, he continues to walk as if he’s going to pass you, only pausing to tilt his head to the side in a patronizing display of faux sympathy.

“Good girl. Now, was that so hard?” he chuckles, not even giving you a chance to respond before he continues his path out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

What in the absolute hell did you just get yourself into?

You’re coming back from the bathroom when you quite literally almost run into Haechan in the hallway. 

“Sorry,” you say, stepping to the side to get past, but he steps to the same side. You laugh awkwardly before stepping to the other side, only for him to do the same, his movements far too calculated to be a mistake, and you come to the realization that he’s intentionally blocking your path. “Haechan?” you ask quietly, nervousness creeping into your voice, and he chuckles.

He takes a step towards you, prompting you to take a cautious one backwards, and his smile widens as he advances on you, slowly but surely herding you back towards the bathroom. When your back hits the nearby wall, your eyes widen, and he mocks you, briefly widening his eyes in faux surprise before flicking his brows up suggestively and placing one hand on the wall by your head on the side you could escape from, successfully trapping you in a makeshift corner. 

“You’re so cute, really.” Haechan sighs, smiling fondly at you, but there’s a devious twinkle in his eye as he regards you.

As he closes in on you, your body is alight with nerves and anticipation, and you decide to try again, feebly calling, “...Haechan?”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he quiets you soothingly, reaching up with his free hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Don’t act like you don’t want this, baby.” As if to prove his point, he presses his knee between your legs, thigh pressing up against your clothed core, and a poorly restrained moan bubbles up in your throat.

“Haechan—” you whine, and he shoots you a smug smile.

“See, baby? I know you want it. You know I want it. That’s why you always wear these tiny fucking skirts whenever you come over,” he states, hand dropping from your face to tug at the hem of your skirt, and you gasp—both at the sudden yanking and the insistent pressing of his thigh against your core. “You like it when I do this. Bet you were waiting for me to slip my hands under your skirt to touch you.”

“Mm-mm,” you protest, but the way your hips move against him, rolling back and forth and grinding wantonly in search of relief, is telling another story, Haechan arching a brow skeptically. 

“Mm, no? You don’t like it? But, wait… what was that you said in the kitchen earlier?” he questions, a taunting lilt to his words. “‘I want you to touch me,’” he echoes your earlier request in a poor imitation of your voice. “Well, I’m touching you, baby—don’t you like it?” When your only reply is a small nod, he shakes his head disapprovingly, gaze darkening. “Words.”

“Yes,” you whimper, breath catching in your throat when he rewards you with a firm upwards press of his thigh into your core. Your movements speed up slightly as you feel that familiar tightening sensation in your abdomen, your climax not far ahead.

“Are you gonna cum just like this?” he asks, and there’s a hint of amusement to his words but it’s almost entirely overtaken by the heavy desire in his voice. 

“Mm-hm,” you whine softly, your desperation peaking as your high gets closer and closer. 

“Beg me to let you cum.” he urges, and you’re already so far gone that your shame is all but done away with.

“Please, Haechan, can I cum?” you pant urgently, a slight pleading quality to your words as you feel the beginnings of your climax, pleasure blooming between your legs in a gush of warmth. “Please?” you whimper, and something in him snaps, Haechan lurching forward and cupping your face in his hands to hold you in place as he kisses you deeply, his tongue tracing along your lower lip as you tremble and moan weakly into his mouth. 

When you move to pull away to breathe, he clutches your face more firmly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and exploring at his leisure, all the while ignoring your muffled, plaintive cries for air. 

“Haechan, I can’t breathe,” you rasp out finally, and he lets you go with a shaky inhale and an unmistakable reluctance. 

“You are so goddamn addicting.” he pants, and his hands drop to your hips, resuming the motions you weren’t aware you’d stopped. “Keep going.”

His hands keep guiding your movements, practically dragging you back and forth on his thigh as he kisses you again. This kiss is messier than the last as he sucks on your tongue and pulls back to trail his lips down your neck, stopping just above your pulse point and sucking hard, a gasp escaping you at the pleasurable sensation.

“Mine,” he grunts against your throat, sinking his teeth into a new patch of skin and sucking there, too, without a doubt leaving some form of mark behind. “All fucking mine.” he repeats, clutching your hips tighter and dragging you up his leg and closer to him, lips parting from your neck with a loud, wet pop and connecting with yours eagerly. “Gonna fucking ruin you, princess.”

“Hae—” you barely get the first syllable of his name out before he’s sealing his mouth over yours again, fingers creeping into the kiss to pry your mouth open.

“Open,” he mutters, brows furrowed in concentration. When you oblige, he taps your tongue impatiently until you let it hang out of your mouth, Haechan sucking in a deep breath as he eyes you appreciatively. Without any warning or preamble, Haechan spits directly onto your tongue, and you whimper, voice cracking slightly. “Swallow. I’m gonna do it again.” You swallow his saliva, the extra moisture in your mouth jarring but not unwelcome, and return to your previous pose of your mouth open with your tongue hanging out. 

He grins and leans in again, hovering over your waiting tongue as he drops a long, clear string of saliva from his puckered lips down to your mouth. “Don’t swallow.” He pulls back from you slightly and pushes his middle and ring finger into your mouth, the cool silver of his ring catching your taste buds as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth, gliding them against your tongue to collect as much wetness as he can. “Good girl,” he coos, pleased, and you’re embarrassed by the rush of warmth between your legs that appears at the praise. “Need them nice and wet for you.”

Not wasting a minute, he snakes his slick, spit-covered fingers past the band of your underwear and starts to stroke over your folds, digits gliding amongst your arousal with embarrassing ease. 

“You’re a mess down here,” he remarks, eyes alight with glee and something wild, primal as he teases you. “You like me that much? Hm?” He seems not to need an answer as he grins cockily at you, eyes scanning your face intently to drink in your every reaction to his touch, no matter how small. He trails his fingers up, up, up until he’s brushing the underside of your clit, and you jolt, flinching away. 

“Haechan, that’s sensitive—”

“I know, baby,” he coos. “That’s exactly why I’m doing it.” With the hand not currently in your underwear, he laces his fingers with yours, the back of his hand pressed against the palm of your own, and trails your linked hands down your body to join his other hand in your underwear. “Show me,” he rasps, and you blink at him, too far gone to fully understand exactly what he means. “Show me how you do it when you’re alone—when you think of me.”

Cheeks blazing, you realize you’re in no position to refuse, so you guide his hand into massaging your clit in circles, your abdomen tensing reflexively whenever his fingers graze the sensitive underside of your clit. 

“Talk to me, baby.” he urges gently, and you whine in protest, the fire in your face increasing nearly tenfold. “Wanna hear that pretty voice tell me how you touch your little pussy.”

“I just rub it in circles like this,” you mumble, voice slightly husky with desire, and the shift doesn’t go unnoticed, if the intensifying of Haechan’s gaze means anything. 

“You don’t go inside?” he asks softly, and you shake your head.

“Doesn’t feel good when I do it,” you whimper, and he sucks in air sharply, swearing under his breath as he watches your face twist in pleasure. It’s all too much for you, having his undivided attention on you like this, and you look away, a shudder traveling through your body as another climax approaches.

“Look at me,” he coaxes, and you reluctantly oblige, pleading eyes locking on his as your peak gets closer by the second. “Only look at me.”

“Okay,” you agree, the last syllable coming out like more of a squeak, and he smiles brilliantly, the hand not pleasuring you slipping out of your underwear and lifting your shirt up to reveal your breasts in your thin, lacy light blue bra. Leaning down, he wraps his lips around one of your nipples through the fabric and starts to suck, tongue swirling around the stiffening bud so wetly that his saliva starts to darken the fabric, the warmth of his spit seeping through the fabric. 

He sucks at your nipples with an almost ferocity, alternating breasts like he can’t get enough of either, and his hand snakes around your back to unclasp your bra, Haechan pushing the garment out of the way as soon as it’s loose and latching onto your nipple with a low groan of satisfaction.

As he flicks your nipple back and forth with his tongue, his fingers stroke you closer and closer to your high until you’re so close you can practically taste the sweet, heady feeling of ecstasy. “Show me what you sound like when you cum, baby.”

“Oh—shit—oh, my God,” you hiss as your eyes screw shut tight, pleasure coursing through your body as your orgasm travels through your system. “Feels so good,” you whimper, and he hums in agreement.

“Say my name, baby.”

“Haechan—” you moan wantonly, and he lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl as he tugs at your nipple with his teeth.

He doesn’t stop attending to your breasts until he’s certain he’s milked every last second of bliss from your body, alternating between sucking and flicking and swirling his tongue around the buds until you go limp, your body slumping against the wall for support. 

Finally, he pulls his arousal-coated fingers from your underwear, trailing them over your bottom lip before pushing the digits into your mouth to suck. 

You do so with an embarrassing amount of eagerness, and are just as surprised as Haechan when he pulls his fingers from your mouth and you whine in protest.

His brows shoot up into his hairline and you feel heat blazing furiously in your cheeks as he regards you with a mix of surprise and an expression that looks close to impressed.

“You like to suck, yeah?” he murmurs, and you nod hesitantly. Something flashes in his dark eyes, and he grins. “Wanna suck something bigger?”

Hesitant but undoubtedly excited, you nod, and he wets his lips before setting about unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans. 

As he does, you slowly sink to your knees, and when he looks up from his pants to see you kneeling before him, he lets out a loud swear that you fear might blow your cover.

As you stare in awe at his impressive size, you realize you’re less worried about getting caught than you are about having to stop. He watches you watch him with amusement and fascination, but the undercurrent of desire runs strong as he clicks his tongue to get your attention. 

You look up at him, and he licks his lips, exhaling a small puff of air before wrapping a hand around his base.

“This is the prettiest sight I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he praises, and you smile, heat rising to your cheeks once more. Lowering himself slightly, he cups your breasts, pressing them together and grunting, “I’m gonna fuck these one day. But now?” he says, releasing them and stroking your chin affectionately. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty mouth.”

“You ever suck someone off, baby?” he asks in a low voice, and you shake your head, making his eyes slide shut in bliss as he squeezes himself harder. “Fuck, I’m your first?”

“Yes,” you mumble shyly, and he coos affectionately at you, leaning down slightly to cup your chin with his free hand. 

“Remember when you were sucking that little lollipop the other day?” he asks, and you nod. “It’s kind of like that. Use your tongue, and the wetter it is, the better.”

You nod carefully and sit forward, letting your jaw drop open. 

“Fuck, baby. Tongue out for me?” he grunts, and you oblige, letting your tongue drop out of your mouth and lie flat for him. “So good, baby, just like that,” he encourages, leaning forward and guiding the head of his cock into your mouth. 

It feels strange but not unwelcome, and you suck gently at the head of his cock, more focused on using your tongue to explore the intrusion in your mouth. Based on the way Haechan’s breathing shallows and quickens, you suspect you’re doing a pretty good job.

“Baby, you’re so good at this,” he groans, his head tipping back before it snaps back up as he seemingly realizes he’d rather watch you. “Mouth looks so pretty wrapped around my cock like that.”

You can only manage a whimper as you boldly press forward, taking more of his length into your mouth, and he sucks in a sharp breath as you swirl your tongue around his length before tentatively flicking it over the slit in the head of his cock. He groans weakly and, emboldened, you do it again, Haechan letting out a delicious little grunt that spurs you to kick it up another notch.

You start to bob your head, doing your best to alternate between bobbing and licking, and Haechan shudders deeply, his hand releasing the rest of his cock and moving to cup the back of your head, fingers slipping into your hair. 

“Just like that—fuck—” he hisses, biting his lip as he watches you suck him off, skill increasing with every movement. When you push forward a bit too suddenly, eager to impress him, you choke briefly on his length, throat constricting slightly as your gag reflex activates slightly. “Oh, shit—”

Despite the slight ache to the back of your throat, you keep sucking, moving forward slower this time to allow your throat time to adjust to his size. When you massage the underside of his tip with your tongue, wet muscle gliding over the ridge of skin, he moans your name and it’s one of the most rewarding sounds you think you’ve ever heard.

“So good,” he pants as you bob your head up and down, and his length twitches in your mouth, giving you a hint that he’s close. “Gonna cum, baby.”

You move your head faster, sucking his length to the best of your ability with all the tricks you just learned, and his fingers grip your hair tightly as he spills into your mouth, his hips sluggishly thrusting forward as he shallowly fucks your mouth. 

“You,” he grunts, helping you to your feet so you’re face to face and kissing you deeply, “are a fast little learner.” His tongue slips between your lips and he explores your mouth eagerly, licking at your tongue and inner cheeks as you whimper, dizzied by the fervor of his kisses. 

“Baby,” he mumbles into the kiss, the urgency in his voice waking you up slightly, “I wanna eat you out. Can I taste you, princess?” When you nod, he grins brilliantly. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

He drops to his knees and slides his hands up from your ankles, hands slipping under your skirt to caress your hips. Pulling your underwear off, he drapes one of your legs over his shoulder, warm, slender fingers spreading apart your folds to get a better look at you.

When you whine softly in embarrassment, he shushes you gently, murmuring, “I just want to admire you for a second, baby, please?” He ducks his head under your skirt and sucks in a sharp breath when he’s met with the sight of your core, folds glistening with your arousal. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he breathes in awe, and before you can reply, his mouth is on you, upper lip resting just above your clit as his tongue strokes along your folds indulgently.

“Oh, my God,” you whisper, stumbling back slightly to lean against the wall behind you. Haechan moves with you fluidly, massaging your clit with his tongue as his fingers clutch your thighs, kneading the flesh with greedy, rough movements.

Tongue moving downwards towards your entrance, he prods the tip of it against your hole, chuckling when you jolt and squirm under his actions. “Don’t be shy, baby, I just want to taste.”

You nod even though he can’t see you, and he must be able to tell, because his tongue pushes forward, slowly breaching your entrance. You suck in a loud breath as his tongue delves further into you, occasionally coming out to slurp up the arousal dripping from your hole. 

“Tastes so good, baby,” he moans, his nose rubbing against your clit as he slowly starts to move his tongue in and out inside of you. The feeling is strange but amazing, a slightly ticklish element to the pleasure you’re receiving as he tongue-fucks you. 

Slurping loudly and moaning even louder, Haechan loses himself in your core, alternating between tongue-fucking you and licking at your folds and clit, leaving sloppy wet kisses that make your mind spin.

“Yeah, you like that?” he grunts, sucking at your clit hard before slipping his tongue out to stroke the sensitive underside of the sensitive bud. “You like when I kiss your pretty pussy? Hm? Do you like it when I make out with your sweet little pussy?”

“Yes,” you whimper, fingers clutching at his head over your skirt. When you get a good grip on him, you start to pull him closer, wanting more of his touch.

“Always so good—so shy and innocent.” Haechan murmurs, words slightly muffled from his oral ministrations on your pussy. “Now look at you; look how bad you’re being.”

“Haechan, please,” you breathe, and he turns his head to suck at your inner thighs, no doubt leaving a mark or two in his wake.

“Wanna see just how bad I can make you be.” he coos before surging forward to lap at your core eagerly, losing himself once more in the taste of you. “Fucking delicious, baby, you taste so good for me.”

He sucks and licks and kisses—even nibbles a bit—until your legs are shaking and your grip on his hair is iron-clad. You briefly consider the extremely compromising position someone might find you in if one of your friends walked down the hall and are surprised to find that not only do you not care, but there’s even a smidge of excitement when you think about getting caught like this, with Haechan’s head under your skirt and your breasts exposed.

“Haechan, I’m—I think I’m gonna—” you pant out, and he nods fervently, tongue slipping out of your entrance to flick your clit back and forth rapidly, a sharp whine slipping from you.

“Cum for me, baby—cum all on my tongue.” he urges, pulling you closer as he feverishly laps at your clit and entrance, shaking his head from side to side rapidly to run his tongue along your core back and forth. “That’s it, pretty girl, just let go.” he purrs, coaxing your climax out of you, and you do just that, letting the coil wound tight in your abdomen snap and letting the pleasure flood through your body.

“Haechan—” you whimper, and he hums soothingly as his tongue massages your clit once more, thoroughly milking your orgasm for all its worth. When the trembling of your legs has calmed down slightly and you’ve started to breathe normally once more, he pops his head out from under your skirt and winks up at you, chin and lips covered in your arousal.

“You’re addicting, baby; could eat your pussy for hours.” he says as he rises to his feet. A look downwards grants you the sight of his erection, fully hard once more, and you swallow thickly before looking up at him only to see that he’s already watching you with a small grin on his face. “Think you can handle one more?”

You’re nodding before you even realize it, and Haechan beams at you, drawing closer and closer until you’re flat against the wall. 

Nudging your legs apart, he settles between them and aligns his tip with your entrance, looking up from where your bodies meet to your face.

“Ready, baby?” he asks, and you nod carefully, eyes drifting back down from his face to where the thick head of his length presses against your core. “Good girl,” he breathes before pushing into you slowly, covering your mouth with his palm as you gasp out loudly. “Baby, they’ll catch us if you keep making noise like that.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, but it’s a muffled apology given that Haechan’s hand is still firmly clasped over your mouth. “So full,” you whisper in awe, and he chuckles lowly in your ear, lips pressing to the spot just behind your lobe. 

“Feel so tight around me, baby,” he grunts, his labored breathing in your ear telling you that he’s just as affected as you are. “So fucking good—”

“Haechan, move,” you whisper urgently as he bottoms out in you, and he obliges, pulling out to the tip and pushing into you again. A loud whoosh of air escapes your lungs, and he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, making you let out a loud whimper that would have been much louder had Haechan’s hand not muffled it.

“I’m starting to think you want to get caught.” Haechan murmurs with a smile on his lips as he kisses along your jaw and moves his hand to kiss you. 

“Mm—! No, I don’t—” you insist through your cries of pleasure, and he shakes his head with a taunting grin.

“Yes, you do,” he teases. “You want all our friends to come in this hallway and see me fucking you like the perfect little fuckdoll I always knew you could be.”

“Hae–chan—” you stutter, tiny noises leaving you with every powerful thrust of his hips. He’s so good, so big and thick, and he’s filling you up just right and hitting all the right places, and it becomes too much very quickly, an overwhelming amount of pleasure rushing through your body as he fucks into you. If it couldn’t get worse for you, he reaches between you two and his fingers find your clit, rubbing it in quick circles just like you showed him earlier. “Fuck—stop—too much—”

“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?” he coos, shifting himself to angle his hips into you just right so that every snap of his hips sends his tip fucking directly into your g-spot. 

You feel warmth behind your eyes, the telltale pricking at the corners that you know all too well, and the first tear drops before you can wipe it away, another tear following after that as the pleasure all but consumes you.

“Aw, baby, don’t cry, it feels good,” he consoles you, reaching up with his free hand to wipe your tears away. 

“So good—too good—” you babble, and he laughs at that, brows furrowing at the end as you clench around him.

“It can’t be too good, baby—you’re not making sense anymore.” he says with a playful lilt, and you whimper, more tears falling as you sniffle pathetically. “Fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry.”

“Wanna cum—Haechan, please let me cum—” you beg, and his movements stutter, Haechan looking at you in surprise.

“Yeah? Baby wants to cum?” he grunts, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as your walls flex around him again. “Fuck, I love when you do that—feels so good—cum for me, baby.” 

Not needing to be told twice, you promptly fall apart around him with a messy string of swears and “please” and utterances of Haechan’s name as your nails dig into his forearm, making him wince slightly. You’re sure you look a mess, eyes wet and glossy as tears stream down your cheeks, but Haechan’s drinking in your appearance like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Baby—I’m close—fuck—” Haechan grunts. “Gonna cum—where do you want it?”

“Want it inside of me, please—” you croak weakly, and he lets out a sound that’s a mix between a smug chuckle and a moan.

“Can’t believe you were skittish as a mouse just the other day, and now you’re begging for my cum. Want me to fill you up?” he pants, hips driving into yours with reckless abandon. 

“Please—” you whimper, and he swears under his breath.

“Fuck—take it all, baby,” he urges, hips pressing into yours as he buries himself in you and empties his load. “It’s all for you,” he says breathlessly as his length twitches inside of you.

He stays inside of you for a moment, both of you attempting to catch your breath, before he slowly pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you fix your skirt back into place. To your confusion, he hooks his fingers in your underwear, pulling the thin, arousal-soaked fabric down and off your legs. 

“Um…” you start, and Haechan looks over at you, brows raised expectantly. “Those are mine,” you state, pointing at the fabric in his fist.

“And now,” he hums, bringing them to his face and inhaling deeply, eyes sliding shut in bliss just in time to miss your scandalized expression. “They’re mine. C’mon; you should use the bathroom.”

He loops his fingers around yours, other hand stuffing your underwear in his back pocket as he leads you to the bathroom.

When the door closes behind you, you sit down on the toilet with slightly shaky legs, taking a moment to think about everything that just occurred. 

You would have never in a million years thought that you’d have sex with Haechan, let alone in the hallway—let alone, with your friends in the very next room. However, as you think over the events that just transpired, your body is filled with a warm thrum of satisfaction, and you can’t seem to find an ounce of regret. 

“Girl, where the hell were you?!” Karina exclaims, fussing over you as soon as you reappear in the living room. “We’ve been texting and calling for ages!”

“Oh,” you mumble, pulling your phone from the little pocket in your skirt. “It’s been on Do Not Disturb,” you explain sheepishly, and Karina rolls her eyes hard.

“Don’t do that again. You had us worried sick. What were you even doing for so long?”

“Um… well, Haechan and I,” you start, casting a side glance to the couch where Haechan sits and hesitating slightly when you see that he’s watching you intently, not an ounce of shame in his expression. “We hooked up.” you say finally, straightening your back slightly and standing up taller.

Yeri’s jaw drops. “About damn time.” she remarks, and you narrow your eyes at her.

“Hush, you.” you huff, looking over at where Haechan sits once more. He locks eyes with you and grins, patting the empty spot next to him and wiggling his eyebrows playfully, and you smile, looking away from him to address your bewildered friends. “I’ll explain everything later—”

“Yeah, yeah, just go, girl.” Karina chuckles. “He’s waiting,” she sing-songs, and you elbow her slightly before shooting them a bright smile and a small wave and making your way to sit next to Haechan. 

When you sit down, Haechan drapes his arm around you on the back of the couch, and you can feel the heat creeping to your cheeks.

“So,” he says carefully, taking a hit of his pen and exhaling slowly before he continues, “I know this is a little backwards of me, but… do you wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?”

“I’d like that,” you reply with a bashful smile, and he grins, relieved.

“Great. Now in the meantime,” he says, looking pointedly towards the hallway before looking back at you expectantly, “I have a nice ass TV, snacks, and a strong ass edible with your name on it in my room. You down?”

You don’t even hesitate. “I’m down.” you agree, smile widening, and he nods, satisfied. He stands from the couch and offers you his hand, which you take as he pulls you to your feet.

As you trail after him towards his room, fingers still locked with his, you can’t help but notice the familiar peek of fabric sticking out of his back pocket, and your eyes widen in alarm.

“Haechan!” you whisper loudly, and he looks back at you with raised brows. “My, um, underwear is sticking out of your pocket.”

“So?” he answers simply, and you pause, brain buffering for a moment.

“So?”

“Yeah. No one knows it’s your underwear but you and me,” he points out as you reach his bedroom door. He swings it open and gestures for you to enter first, head dipping down to your ear as you pass by. “So it’s our little secret.”

“Oh,” you mumble, thinking it over. “Okay.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says encouragingly, guiding you to his bed and gesturing for you to sit down. “Now, what do you want to watch?”

“Uh, we can watch Family Guy,” you suggest, and he looks at you, pleasant surprise written on his handsome features, before he nods and picks up the TV remote.

“Good choice,” he praises, sitting down beside you against the headboard of his bed. “Perfect show to play in the background while we make out.”

“Oh—” you stammer, blinking in surprise, and he snorts, eyes fond as he scans your bashful demeanor.

“I’m kidding.” he assures you, and you can’t help but frown slightly. Unfortunately for you, this doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, and he chuckles. “You wanted to make out, didn’t you?”

“A little bit,” you mumble, and he grins, leaning in closer to you.

“That can be arranged.” he murmurs, still smiling as his lips meet yours.

[redeemingvillains]

the new girl - mattheo riddle

summary: despite their best and most ardent efforts, each of the slytherin boys gets rejected by you, and can't figure out why, not knowing that one of them holds a secret that explains it all.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: suggestive content, probably 18+ish, please read responsibly my dears.

The boys watched eagerly across the Great Hall as Enzo leaned over the table to get your attention. You looked up at him, and smiled instantly, a blush rising to your cheeks at whatever he’d said.

“Yes, mate” Blaise whispered in encouragement.

You ducked your head and curled a piece of hair behind your ear, averting your eyes demurely as he continued and Draco realized he’d stopped breathing altogether, the anticipation nearly crushing him as he moved to grasp Theo’s arm in excitement.

Finally, your eyes met Enzo’s and as you started to reply the boys’ gaze was glued to your perfect lips, wishing they could hear what you were saying as they all physically leaned forward, like it would make any difference at this distance.

Enzo rubbed the back of his head abashedly, nodding and smiling before he turned to walk back to the Slytherin table. He took several steps in his swaggering gait but his pout betrayed him as he caught their eye and shook his head subtly and they let out a collective gasp.

“Fuck!” Theo said rather loudly, garnering the attention of a few third years nearby.

“Damn it all” Draco agreed as Blaise threw down the Daily Prophet that he’d held clenched in his fist.

Enzo approached the table and slumped down onto the bench.

“She said… no” he muttered, like he was in a trance, like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth before he shook his head. “It’s official, then, she’s impenetrable, if she’s not going to go out with me then the rest of the school is fucked.”

“Mate, who the fuck says no to all four of us?” Blaise pondered as he looked between Enzo, Draco and Theo who were all equally gobsmacked.

One of them getting rejected happened occasionally, rarely, but all four of them? It was an impossibility they’d never considered as they looked back at you like you were a unicorn. And gods if that didn’t take them down another notch because just the sight of you quickened their heartbeats; you were the new girl and you were hot, unbelievably hot. The type of girl any of them would have on their arm in an instant.

They had just started to ponder the depths of their failure when Mattheo sauntered into the Great Hall, ambling to their table and picking at the platters of food in front of him nonchalantly, totally unaware of the cataclysmic breakdown that was occurring amongst his friends.

“Well look who decided to show up” Draco sneered, shooting Mattheo a gaze with narrowed eyes. “And where’ve you been?” he asked.

“I slept in” Mattheo snapped back with an annoyed look on his face, “S’that alright with you, mother? Christ.”

“Mate you’ve been totally MIA lately—” Blaise started before he was promptly interrupted by Enzo who was still in the heady fog of rejection as he stared at you.

“—Maybe she swings the other way?” he said. “Doesn’t even fancy a lad. That would make sense” he urged, hope rising in his voice as he glanced to his friends for reassurance.

“No, my cousin heard from his neighbor that she dated Viktor Krum” Draco said, proudly spilling tea that had eyebrows shooting up around the table.

“I heard she’s part Veela” Theo said quietly and Enzo nodded his head in agreement.

“Didn’t she come from Beauxbatons?” Blaise asked.

“Diggory told me that Potter asked her out and she said no to him too, if that’s any consolation” Theo added.

“Barely” Draco muttered darkly.

Mattheo looked around at them, perplexed until he muttered with a mouth full of food “What’reyou onabout?”

Enzo nodded his head in your direction, “YN” he said, like it was obvious. “Literally where have you been? She’s all anyone can talk about.”

Mattheo sat up a little straighter and swallowed his food so quickly he almost choked.

“What about her?” he asked.

“She’s a fucking enigma” Enzo said frustratedly. “She said no to every single one of us” he huffed.

“—What if it’s a test to see who will ask twice?” Theo asked, nearly moving to his feet to try.

“Wait, wait” Mattheo said, stopping him, his voice rising in a way that garnered their attention. “You all fucking asked her out?” his voice was a low growl that was lost in the midst of their frantic banter.

“Have you seen her?” Blaise said, grabbing Mattheo’s arm and pulling him closer to him as he gestured to you. “Fucking look at her! Merlin’s beard. I would take a bludger straight to the head for just a taste of that.”

Mattheo pushed Blaise off of him as his hands curled into fists, but his reaction was ignored as he watched them ogle you, each of them nearly drooling now at the way you were softly biting your bottom lip, twirling a piece of your hair and reading the book in front of you.

“Can we just … not?” Mattheo said, exasperated, in an effort to divert their attention from you.

“Shut up, Mattheo” Enzo snapped, his eyes never leaving you.

“How about you shut the fuck up Berkshire - just because you found one girl in the whole school who won’t suck your dick” Mattheo argued.

“What’s gotten into you?” Draco replied, his face scrunched in annoyance as he finally looked away from you to Mattheo.

“Don’t be a fucking prick just because she said no to you too” Enzo mocked. “Join the fucking party mate.”

Mattheo straightened up at the comment, shifting a bit in his seat, but remained silent.

A moment.

Two.

And the quiet is what finally got their attention. Enzo turned around slowly, his gaze peeling away from you as Draco, Theo and Blaise followed suit.

Enzo’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in.

“Riddle?” he said questioningly, accusingly.

Mattheo fidgeted again. “What?” he spat back, eyes narrowed.

“You did ask her, didn’t you?” Enzo pressed.

Mattheo thought back to the night he bumped into you in the library. It was well past midnight and he was making every effort to learn an entire semester’s worth of astronomy for his exam the next day. You had nearly collided with each other around a bookcase and as he helped you pick up the tomes that had tumbled from your hands he’d been startled by how beautiful you were, how sweet you were to him, how fucking good you smelled, like amber and vanilla, how he immediately wanted to know if your lips tasted the same way.

Within 43 minutes he knew that they didn’t. They tasted like cocoa butter, they were smooth and soft and he knew that he’d probably be thinking about the way you kissed him for the rest of his life. He also knew that you wanted to keep your tryst a secret… for now.

Mattheo came back to the present and bobbed his head from side to side noncommittally. Did I ask her out? he thought.

“Ehh” he replied. He didn’t remember a lot of talking from that night.

“Did she say YES?” Theo asked incredulously, as he leaned in.

Mattheo thought about the heat of your skin on his, the way it burned hot as he pressed you against the wall in the small broom closet this morning, hiking up your skirt. He thought about how utterly fucking perfect you felt and the way you gasped, the way he caught your mouth with his own to keep you quiet, because you wanted to keep things a secret… for now.

But for the life of him he couldn’t keep the shit eating grin off his face at the memory of it all as he shrugged.

The boys erupted.

“NO FUCKING WAY!”

“LEGENNNNNDDD!”

Theo had launched across the table and grabbed Mattheo excitedly by the front of his robes even as Mattheo laughed and swatted him away.

“Fucking Riddle” Draco said, a proud smile on his face as he shook his head.

“Well?” said Enzo as they settled back down and leaned in conspiratorially. “C’mon then, aren’t you going to tell us about it?”

“I’m dying here” Theo agreed.

“Please” said Blaise.

Mattheo smirked. “Yeah, alright, I’ll tell you” he said, motioning for them to get closer.

They leaned in.

“I’ll tell you that if any of you fucking pricks looks at her the way you were this morning, if you try to make another move on her or if you keep spewing worthless fucking rumors about her I will take deep pleasure in fucking you up in ways magic hasn’t figured out how to fix yet. Yeah?”

Each of their gazes flickered to the darkness in Mattheo’s eyes, and then slowly, quietly, they pulled back to their seats, resuming their breakfast.  

ˋ°•*⁀➷ part two

@kenjikishimotoswifey @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @chelawrites

[brunchable]

Under The Mistletoe | B. B.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x F! Reader Themes: Fake relationship, forced proximity, enemies-to-lovers(ish), rom-com Summary: When your meddling family won’t stop asking about you love life, you roped your arch-nemesis Bucky into pretending to be your boyfriend for Christmas dinner at your parents house. It was pay back for the massive favor he owes you, so he had no choice but to agree. A/N : This oneshot is part of my 4K Follower christmas themed celebration. I hope you enjoy this first one! Thank you so much for reading my stories! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The smell of pine and cinnamon wafts through the air as you adjust the cuffs of your sweater, glaring at the man currently making himself at home in your parents’ living room. James Buchanan Barnes—your nemesis, your tormentor, the human equivalent of a lump of coal—lounges on the couch like he’s been a part of your family for years. Your mom already adores him.

“James, more eggnog?” she chirps, holding out a festive mug.

“Of course,” Bucky replies with a smile so charming, you almost believe it’s real. Almost.

You, on the other hand, are clinging to your sanity by the thinnest strand of tinsel. He’s only here because he owes you. Big time. And because your family won’t stop asking when you’ll finally settle down and find someone “worth bringing home for Christmas.”

When you roped Bucky into this charade, you expected the bare minimum. A few fake smiles. Maybe holding your hand once or twice. What you did not expect was him waltzing in here, winning over your family, and actually knowing things about you.

“Y/N hates marshmallows in her hot chocolate,” Bucky says smoothly, stopping your dad mid-scoop. “She’s all about the whipped cream.”

You freeze in the doorway, clutching a tray of cookies like a lifeline. How does he know that? You never even told him that. Your dad raises an eyebrow at you, impressed, while you try to recover from the shock.

“Right,” you stammer, narrowing your eyes at Bucky. “Because you’re so attentive.”

He smirks, the twinkle in his eye more annoying than any Christmas light you’ve ever seen. “It’s a gift.”

× × × ×

The cozy living room, aglow with soft Christmas lights, feels oppressively warm. Not because of the crackling fire or the wool socks your mom forced everyone to wear, but because Bucky’s presence next to you is positively suffocating. His thigh, firm and annoyingly warm, is pressed against yours, and every time he shifts, your nerves jolt like a live wire.

“You’re twitching again,” Bucky murmurs under his breath, leaning closer so his lips almost brush your ear. “Relax. If you keep acting like this, your mom’s going to think I broke your heart or something.”

“Maybe I should tell her you’re insufferable, so she kicks you out,” you snap, voice low enough not to disturb the room. Your family is fully engrossed in Elf, but you swear Bucky’s gaze burns hotter than the fire.

“Go ahead,” he whispers back, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m her favorite now, you know.”

You resist the urge to stab him with the candy cane you’ve been holding for the last ten minutes. Instead, you muster your sweetest fake smile and clap your hands. “Well, Mom, it’s getting late, and I think Bucky has a long drive ahead of him—”

Your mom, standing with a tray of cookies like some sort of Christmas matriarch, freezes mid-step. 

“What?” she exclaims, her eyes wide and full of betrayal. “You’re not staying, Bucky? But I prepared Y/N’s room for the two of you!”

The room goes dead silent.

Bucky’s head swivels toward you so fast, you hear a faint crack. 

“She didn’t tell me about that,” he says, his voice strangled with barely concealed panic. He offers you a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t know we’d be, uh, bunking together.”

You grit your teeth, your face burning hotter than the fireplace. “That’s because I didn’t know,” you hiss, shooting a glare at your mom that could melt Frosty the Snowman.

“How could you make your boyfriend drive all the way out here just to send him back into the snow?” your mom demands, hands on her hips like a Christmas tyrant. “Absolutely not. He’s staying. Come on, Bucky, I’ll show you two to your room.”

“Our room?” you squeak, but your mom is already bustling out of the room, and Bucky, to your utter horror, is rising from the couch to follow her.

He pauses just long enough to lean down and mutter, “This just got a whole lot more interesting, sweetheart.” The grin he flashes is wolfish, and you resist the urge to throttle him with your flannel sleeve.

The room is straight out of a Hallmark Christmas special. The fireplace is lit, the bed is perfectly made with a festive quilt and decorative pillows, and the faint smell of pine fills the air. There’s even mistletoe hanging in the corner, mocking you.

Bucky steps in, glancing around, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and terror. 

“Wow,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Cozy.”

Your mom claps her hands together, beaming. “I knew you two would love it. Oh, and don’t worry, honey, I put the extra pillows in the closet in case you need them.” She winks at you, winks, before spinning on her heel and leaving you to your doom.

The moment the door clicks shut, you whirl on Bucky. “Don’t say a word.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrays him. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, doll,” he drawls, wandering over to the bed and plopping down on it like he owns the place. He stretches out, arms behind his head, and sighs dramatically. “Comfy. We’re gonna have a great night.”

You stare at him, horrified. “You’re sleeping on the floor.”

He raises an eyebrow, patting the quilt beside him. “I don’t think your mom would approve.”

You throw a decorative pillow at his face, which he catches with infuriating ease. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault? You’re the one who dragged me here.”

“You owed me!”

“And I’m paying you back,” he says with a grin, tossing the pillow back at you. “With interest, apparently.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

Bucky leans forward, his grin softening just a touch. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just one night. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Somehow, that promise doesn’t reassure you in the slightest. You glare at him one last time before grabbing a blanket from the closet and stomping to the couch by the fireplace.

“Where are you going?” he calls after you.

“To sleep.”

“Suit yourself.” 

You don’t have to look to know he’s smirking again. You grab another pillow and resist the urge to launch it at his stupidly handsome face.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

× × × ×

The fire had long since died, leaving the room shrouded in a cold that no amount of decorative holiday cheer could banish. You’d been curled up on the couch under a threadbare blanket that smelled faintly of cinnamon and humiliation for hours, but now you were shivering so hard you were worried your teeth might chatter loud enough to wake the whole house.

You shot a death glare at Bucky, sprawled out on the bed like a smug prince in his flannel pajamas, the quilt pulled up to his chin. The nerve of him actually letting you sleep on the couch while he hogged the bed like he didn’t owe you his very existence—or at least this ridiculous favor.

Finally, when your toes felt like icicles and you were seriously debating setting your pride on fire just to warm up, you caved. You untangled yourself from the blanket, muttering curses under your breath, and tiptoed toward the bed.

It would have been stealthy. It would have been smooth. Except your foot made direct, agonizing contact with the solid oak footboard.

Pain exploded through your toe, and you bit back a screech so feral you probably looked like a Christmas banshee. Instead, you crumpled to the floor, clutching your foot and mouthing a stream of silent profanities that would make Santa's naughty list blush.

“Mother F—!” you hissed at yourself, wincing as you hobbled the rest of the way to the bed. You crawled onto the empty side like some kind of injured burglar, trying to be as silent as possible. Your toe throbbed in time with your heartbeat, but you focused on one thing: the warm cocoon of blankets just inches away.

Finally, you slid under the covers, sighing as the heat from the quilt enveloped you. Bliss. Sweet, sweet bliss. Maybe Bucky wouldn’t even notice—

“Could’ve just asked, you know.”

You nearly launched yourself out of the bed in shock, your heart leaping into your throat. “What the—!” you whisper-screeched, clutching the quilt to your chest.

Bucky’s voice, low and laced with amusement, drifted through the darkness. “I was awake the whole time.”

“You—!” Words failed you as your face burned with embarrassment. “Then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I was curious how far you’d go before giving up.” You could hear the grin in his voice.

“You’re the worst.”

“Debatable. I didn’t laugh when you stubbed your toe.”

“You heard that?!”

“Sweetheart, I think the neighbours heard that.” His shoulders shook with silent laughter as you stared at him, outraged.

“I hate you,” you snapped, yanking the quilt tighter around you and turning your back on him.

But before you could stew in your annoyance, you felt a hand reach over and pull part of the blanket from you, wrapping it snugly around your side. You froze as his voice softened, amusement fading.

“Relax. I don’t bite. Unless you’re still mad about the couch.”

“I am.”

“Noted.” He shifted, and his voice dropped lower, warmer. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You turned over, your curiosity finally getting the better of you. Facing Bucky’s silhouette in the faint moonlight streaming through the window, you squinted at him. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

He exhaled softly, like he’d been waiting for you to ask. Without a word, he reached over and flicked on the small lamp on his side of the bed, filling the room with a soft golden glow. The shadows on his face softened, and he turned to face you fully, propping his head up on his hand.

“I’m not used to a soft, warm, comfortable bed,” he said simply, his voice low and quiet.

That wasn’t the answer you expected. “Why not?” you asked, furrowing your brow.

Bucky’s gaze flickered to the blanket between you before settling back on your face. “I usually sleep on the floor.”

Your jaw dropped. “The floor? Why?”

He shrugged like it was no big deal, like it didn’t hurt to admit. “I have a bed,” he said casually, “but… being uncomfortable has kind of become my normal.”

Your heart sank at his admission. The way he said it—so matter-of-factly, like he didn’t even consider it strange—made something in your chest tighten. You swallowed hard, trying to shove down the wave of sympathy threatening to show on your face.

“Oh,” you said, clearing your throat, but it came out too soft, too affected. You forced yourself to straighten up, busying your hands by tucking the quilt tighter around you. “Well, uh… this bed uncomfortably soft, so, lucky you?”

You wanted to kick yourself for how awkward that sounded. But he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he just chuckled, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. 

“Yeah, lucky me.”

The room fell into silence, save for the soft crackle of the dying embers in the fireplace. You tried to avoid his gaze, but something in the room caught your eye, and you froze.

Dangling right above the headboard, in plain sight, was a sprig of mistletoe. The ribbon holding it swayed slightly, mocking you with its festive cheer.

Your brain scrambled. How had you missed that earlier? Why on earth was it there? Did mom hang it on purpose? Of course she did! That woman was a menace.

You could feel Bucky’s gaze lingering on you, and your heart thumped louder with each passing second. You knew it was only a matter of time before he noticed the stupid sprig of mistletoe dangling above the headboard, so you needed to distract him.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, his brow quirking up in suspicion as he started to turn his head.

“Nothing!” you yelped, throwing the quilt over your face in a panic. “Nothing! Absolutely nothing. Goodnight!”

For a second, there was silence. Then, the soft creak of the bed as Bucky shifted, his voice low and amused. “Wait a second…”

You could practically hear the smirk spreading across his face as realization dawned.

“Oh, would you look at that.”

Your stomach flipped as you slowly peeked out from under the quilt. Sure enough, Bucky was staring right at the mistletoe, his lips curving into the most maddeningly smug grin you’d ever seen.

“Mistletoe,” he said, his tone practically dripping with glee. “Right above our heads. What are the odds, huh?”

“Coincidence,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket back over your face.

He chuckled, his voice warm and teasing. “You know what they say about mistletoe, don’t you?”

“Don’t,” you groaned, your voice muffled by the quilt.

“Oh, but I think I have to,” he replied, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “It’s tradition, after all.”

You peeked out again, glaring at him. “It’s not tradition if we just pretend it doesn’t exist.”

He tilted his head, mock-pondering. “Hmm. Ignoring it feels a little… Grinch-like, don’t you think? And you wouldn’t want to ruin Christmas, would you?”

“I swear to God, Bucky—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in, his face closer than you expected, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “What? Afraid you might enjoy it?”

You scoffed, your heart racing. “As if.”

You could practically feel your heart trying to escape your chest as Bucky inched closer, the infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was something else there too—something warmer, more intent.

“Oh, so it wouldn’t bother you at all?” he teased, his smirk widening. “Not even a little kiss?”

“Not in a million years,” you shot back, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his grin softening, “you’re shaking. Maybe it would bother you.”

“Bucky—”

But you never got to finish. And just then, he leaned forward and kissed your lips. Warm, masculine lips were pressed to yours. It wasn’t rushed or teasing—it was warm, gentle, and infuriatingly confident. Like he’d been waiting for this. Like he wasn’t the least bit surprised by how perfectly your lips fit together.

Your initial plan was to push him away—firmly, dramatically, maybe even with a good shove to his ridiculously broad chest—but your brain short-circuited the moment his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. Instead, you melted into him, your traitorous body leaning closer without permission.

It was supposed to be a simple, obligatory mistletoe kiss. But the way he kissed you made the world tilt, his lips moving with a deliberate tenderness that made your stomach somersault. He felt you quiver beneath his touch, but he wanted to comfort you—his tongue delved your mouth slowly and you parted your lips willingly and welcomed him. This was enough encouragement for Bucky; he sucked your tongue sensually, and you nibbled his lower lip.

Every kiss he gave felt like a slow unravelling and intense, as if he was savouring the act as much as the reaction it drew from you. Bucky’s fingers traced along your jaw, tilting your face toward him with a tender authority that left no room for hesitation. His thumb brushed over your cheek in a soothing rhythm, contrasting with the heat and urgency of his lips. When he pulled back, his eyes locked with yours—dark with desire, soft with something unspoken—before he leaned in again, claiming your mouth once more.

You let him in, your lips parting as his tongue slipped past, tangling with yours again in an unhurried, sensuous dance that sent shivers down your spine. He tilted his head, exploring every curve of your mouth, his kisses leaving a heated trail that set your skin ablaze. Your lips found their way to his jawline, pressing soft kisses along his stubble, the faint roughness amplifying the sensitivity of your own. When you returned to his lips, the hunger in his kiss mirrored your own as you teased his tongue with yours, your movements bold and enticing.

The shift in your energy didn’t go unnoticed. You felt him tense, his restraint hanging by a thread as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing into yours. His hands gripped your waist, anchoring you in place as his kisses became hungrier, pulling quiet moans and ragged breaths from you. The sound of your pleasure seemed to fuel him, his control slipping further as he pressed closer, his arousal hard and insistent against your thigh, a tangible reminder of the tension thrumming between you. Every kiss, every touch, felt like a declaration, his desire spilling over and igniting something equally fierce in you.

When he pulled back it almost felt like he had to force himself to but he stayed close, his forehead almost brushing yours. His eyes searched your face, his smirk gone, replaced by something quieter, something more serious.

“Well,” he said softly, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it, “guess the mistletoe’s not so bad after all.”

You blinked, your breath hitching. “Have I told you I hate you?”

“And yet, here we are,” he teased, though his smirk was softer now, his thumb still brushing your cheek like he hadn’t realized he was still holding you.

You pushed his hand away—gently, because you were not going to think about how good it felt—and flopped back against the pillows, groaning into the quilt. 

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Of course not,” he said with a chuckle, settling back onto his side of the bed. “Just a harmless little kiss. Totally meaningless.”

You peeked out from under the quilt to glare at him, but the way he was looking at you—soft, amused, and maybe a little too smug—made your pulse spike all over again.

“Goodnight, Barnes,” you muttered, burrowing back into the covers, determined to ignore the way your lips still tingled.

“Goodnight, doll,” he replied, his voice warm with amusement—and something else you didn’t want to think about.

The room fell quiet again, save for the faint crackle of the dying fire. But as you lay there, trying and failing to stop replaying the kiss in your head, you realized one thing: mistletoe was officially the most dangerous Christmas decoration of all time.

tags: @lomlbuckybarnes @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss @mostlymarvelgirl

@missvelvetsstuff @unaxv @carnal-vogue @bmyva1entine @wheredidiputmyfish

@thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @wanda-widow @filmologetica @awaywithtime @Thealyrs

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @winchestert101 @strawberrybisou @unaxv @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fynnwolff @veronicapaula

[nottsangel]

ONE. cockwarming — dealer!theo

warnings — smut 18+. cockwarming. exhibitionism. guns and slight gunplay.

kinkmas mlist. moodboard. more.

“you little brat.” theo growls under his breath, his tone husky and taunting, sharp eyes locking onto yours. he takes his gun from behind his waistband, placing it next to him before his hands hastily untie the string of his grey sweatpants, freeing his already half-hard cock from his pants. without hesitation, he aggressively pulls you onto his lap, making you hover over his crotch.

“can’t even keep your hands off me for one minute, can you?” he continues, his darkened eyes staring so intensely into yours as a smug smirk curls on his lips. you feel your cheeks heat up at his teasing words, only worsening the ache between your legs as you struggle to ignore the uncomfortable dampness in your underwear.

you tried to keep your hands off him all day long— you really did. but it became difficult when he was busy all day long and unable to give you any attention at all, and you suffered from a terrible touch deprivation. he insists it’s because he has to be ‘professional’, as if one little kiss would hurt that much.

so after hours of feeling your hands roam all over his tensed body and listening to your whines about not getting enough attention, he decides to give you exactly what you want—or need—as his warm hands wander down your body, teasing fingers tracing your wetness.

“mmm, you’re mean today.” you murmur softly, your hands steadying themselves on his broad shoulders as his fingers swiftly pull your lace panties to the side, his piercing eyes not leaving yours once. with his other hand firmly on your hip, he positions you right over his precum-leaking erection and slowly pushes you down, making you hiss at the full sensation until you’re completely seated on his cock.

“finally.” you whisper breathlessly, your walls wrapping around him so tightly as the tip brushes against the deepest parts within you. but right as you want to move, theo tightly grips your hips, firmly holding you down. his smug smile widens when he notices both a puzzled and frustrated expression appearing on your adorable face.

“ohhh, you thought i was gonna fuck you? you thought you deserved that? that’s cute.” theo taunts, his tone dripping with mock surprise as his fingers slowly inch towards the gun, bringing it closer to your stiffened body.

“baby, please, just let me move!” you cry out, shivering as the cold metal of the gun slowly glides over your delicate skin, the barrel pointed right at you. a wave of fear courses through you, mingling with arousal, your wetness trickling down the insides of your thighs— he knows damn well this turns you on.

“nah… you’re gonna sit still and be a good girl for me now, a’ight? this is all you’re getting until i’m done with work.”

right when you part your glossed lips to speak, a loud knock echoes through his living room, causing you to gasp loudly. despite your desperate efforts to wiggle free from his firm grip, it’s no use, as he already yells a ‘come in’ to the client waiting in front of his door.

you frantically slap his shoulder in panic as he places the gun next to him again and smooths down your skirt, making sure it covers you both, leaving it impossible for anyone to see his cock buried balls-deep inside of you.

“you better sit still, piccola. don’t want him finding out what a filthy slut you are, huh? sitting on my cock while i’m working?”

“theodore nott, i swear to fucking go—”

“hey man, what’s good? you got any?” your head snaps to the side, your heart pounding out of your chest as you nibble on your bottom lip in unease. a regular client of theo casually walks in, hands in his pockets as approaches you both, thankfully not suspecting a thing— or so you thought.

“shit, what’s wrong with her?” he chuckles, his eyes scanning you up and down when he notices you restlessly moving around on theo’s lap, an undeniable flushed and embarrassed look on your face. your eyes widen when his gaze then lingers on your tits for a moment, theo’s eyes narrowing instantly as the grip on your hips tightens, his fingers pressing harshly into your skin.

“nothin’ you gotta worry about, mate.” he grumbles, before both his tone and eyes quickly turn icy. his hand casually reaches for the gun lying next to him on the couch, his grip on it firm and threatening as his other hand still possessively holds your hips. the poor man immediately takes a step back, swallowing hard when his eyes flick to the weapon, his hands weakly lifting in surrender.

“but uhm… look at my girl like that again i promise you’re not leaving this house in one piece, capito? coglione del cazzo.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[kamitv]

Thinking about Choso who…

Loves any and all sorts of attention from you, even when you’re upset with him.

He’d love the way you frown at him or how your brows tense, finding you nothing more than cute— especially if you’re shorter than him, that just makes it even more amusing to him.

And if you happen to be taller than he’s lowkey ready to get down on his knees and apologize by putting his head in between your legs, even if you’re the one in the wrong.

Enjoys being seen out in public with you.

PDA is probably one of his favorite things, especially when he notices someone looking at you too long.

There’d be a time where a little boy or girl compliments you and suddenly he’s jealous even though it’s just a harmless child that’s admiring you.

If you had an ex that won’t leave you alone, would make it his mission to send him (consented) videos of you cumming on his cock.

Nine times out of ten, you’re on top of him, riding him til’ his eyes are to the back of his skull and he can’t stop himself from groaning. Asking you things like, “You’ ever ride your ex this fuckin’ good?” To which you’d respond with a quiet whine of no.

And next he’s got you bent over for him, hips snapping forward into you, heavy balls smacking against you with his ever thrust, and thick cock filling you up perfectly. All as he’s still mocking your ex, “He never fucked you this good, huh?” “Probably not, right?” “Oh shit, you can’t talk too well, can ya’?” “That feel good baby? Hm? Go ahead ‘nd tell the camera who’s fuckin’ you to tears.”

Loves showering you in compliments.

“You look so pretty in that, kinda like a princess.”

“I love your eyes, never stop lookin’ at me please.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I’m the luckiest man in the world, aren’t I?”

“You’re so cute, baby.”

Could get off on your smell alone.

It’s perverted, yes, but sometimes he gets really needy for you. He’d shove his face into your pillow, smelling a mixture of your perfume and last used soap and using that to get off— fisting his cock desperately as each whiff of your scent makes his thoughts blur together and his body twitch.

Would do anything you ask of him.

He doesn’t care what it is, as soon as you have that requesting tone in your voice, the word yes is rolling off of his tongue without second thought.

Who’s not the richest man in the world but works hard just to spoil you.

Choso loves giving you gifts. The way your eyes light up and a beautiful smile plasters across your face, it makes his heart throb in desire and he can’t help but have the urge to give you more and more.

He’d give you the world if he could.

Shuts you up by telling you to get down on your knees.

He doesn’t get mad at you often but when the argument gets to a certain point and he can tell you’re being a brat on purpose, he’s punishing you by fucking your throat.

His cock would be stretching your throat open too, filling your mouth up with cum after a few minutes because he still can’t always last too long with you— you’re still as pretty as ever on your knees with tears running down your face and a mouth full of his cock, the sight makes him fold every time and suddenly he can’t even remember what he was upset with you for.

Apologies to you by drowning in between your legs for hours.

Literal hours too. He doesn’t care if you told him you forgive him a thousand times already, once he’s down there it’s hard for him to get up. His jaw could lock while he’s nose deep into your pussy and he wouldn’t care, your taste is too addicting.

Then there’s the way you moan and whine out his name, begging him to give you a break— yet it only makes him more eager to get you off. Even if you squirt on his face, he won’t care, if anything he’s begging you to do it again. Groaning a simple, “Gimme another one, princess. Please?”

Blushes when you compliment him.

He’s not used to it so whenever you call him handsome, his ears are turning red and he’s mumbling out a cute thank you in response.

You once praised him and called him a good boy and he moaned, begging you to call him that again and again. It made his cock so unbelievably hard that he was aroused for practically the rest of the night.

Another time you said you were proud of him and he started showering you in kisses and telling you that he’s only doing good because he has you.

Brags & yaps about you whenever you’re the topic of conversation.

The second your name is said by someone nearby, his mouth is on auto-response. He’ll tell people how hard working snd perfect you are, how he doesn’t really deserve you but he’s so happy to have you as his lover.

Calls you specific pet names.

Baby, princess, love— they all slip out of his mouth before he even realizes he’s saying it.

If you told him you liked being called “mama, mamas, or ma” he’d settle on calling you ma.

Sometimes he just calls you his. His girlfriend, his partner, his wife. His anything and or everything.

In the rare case that he’s degrading you because you’ve asked him to— he’s calling you a slut. His slut, a dirty slut, pretty slut, his good slut, doesn’t matter.

Loves you more than he loves himself.

He’d cherish you like no other. Every kiss from his is filled with love and every time his eyes meet your face, his pupils dilate.

A/N: In honor of my lover Choso. Please come home, the kids miss you baby. :( Gege Akutami when I get my goddamn hands on you its a wrap.

[serotosin]

Cockwarming w Sevika

(would like to add this is only my second time writing anything NSFW so no i am not the best and the more i reread this the more i hate it so here i am posting it before i hate it too much, anyways enjoy ya little sevika enthusiasts)

It started with you coming into sevika’s space, desperate for attention and it ended with her annoyed and you sat on her lap with the strap buried deep inside you, she was annoyed at you’re bothersome antics and desperate attempts for attention and this was your punishment.

Her grip on your hips were unyielding and every small movement never escaped her notice.

“Quit moving.” She warns in a low tone as she delivers a small warning smack to your thigh, yet her eyes never look up from what she’s doing

She doesn’t see the need in your eyes, the furrow of your brows, the way your bottom lip is stuck between your teeth as you bit it. She didn’t have to look at you to know what your expression was.

“Sevika..please-“ Your pleas gets cut short as Sevika raises a brow and looks up at you with a silent warning in her eyes

“I said no. You’re going to sit here and warm this cock like a good girl, okay?” Sevika responds in a cold tone but you didn’t miss the lust in her eyes as she looked back at her task

You bit back the urge to whine or whimper as you knew the better you listened the more likely you were to get what you wanted…but the feeling of being so full, the tip pressing against all the right places even with each unintentional movement was making your need harder to contain.

Minutes passed and to you it felt like hours, you were so needy you started to try and subtly shift your hips, just a little as you were desperate.

“What did I tell you?” Sevika says as her grip on your hips grows increasingly tighter, she speaks through clenched teeth

“I couldn’t help it! This is torture!” You whine out as you grip onto your own thighs as you lean forward a bit, Sevika’s irritation makes her snap.

In one quick movement the stuff on top of the desk was thrown to the floor and she stood up, pushing the toy deeper into you as she pushed you with her and bent you over the desk, she didn’t wait to start snapping her hips into you, driving the toy into you over and over again as her hips slam against your ass.

“This what you wanted, Hm? To be fucked? Have this tight fucking hole ruined by me?” Sevika says through gritted teeth as she reaches a hand around to start circling your clit and the other hand grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking you back

“Y-yes…Fuck…yes!” You moan out your response as you had quickly became cock dumb, unable to focus on anything other than the way sevika fucks you and handles you

“Look at you, practically drooling over how i’m fucking you” Sevika reaches down and grabs your thigh, lifting it onto the desk so she can drive the toy deeper into your dripping cunt, squelching with each deep thrust

Your eyes were half lidded and to sevika, you had the most sluttiest expression she had ever seen and she was loving it, she started to rub your clit faster as she placed her free hand on the desk next to your head, her head dipping to place her mouth right next to your ear

“Be a good girl, Cum for me…all over my cock, c’mon baby…” Sevika coo’s into your ear, knowing that her sweet tone would send you over

You gripped the wood of the desk under you as you had felt your orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolled back and you arched your back down and pressed your chest against the cool material as you moaned out desperately, squeezing the toy so tightly as you came all over it, Sevika’s name leaving your lips like a prayer.

“Good girl…such a good girl for me..” Sevika slows her movements as she turns her head and places a soft kiss on your shoulder

Once your orgasm had passed she slowly slid out of you and took the harness off and set it aside, she sat back in her seat and pulled you with her, letting you curl up in her lap, your head laid on her shoulder as she ran her fingers through your hair

“You did so good for me, baby…I love you” Sevika whispers softly as she kisses your head then lays her cheek on top of where she just kissed

“I love you more” You mutter out as your eyes were already closing and sleep was soon taking over

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Rough Sex w/ MW2

Warnings: 18+, Heavy Smut, Rough Sex, Restraining, Stomach Bulging, Unprotected Sex, Sexual Punishment, Use of a Strap-On, Implied Blow Job, Possessive Sex, Dehumanisation, Slut Shaming, Reader Blaming, Hair Pulling, Slight Dumbification, Blood, Dirty Talk, Profanity, Pet Names, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

“Just a stupid little whore, aren’t ya,” Simon growled as he pounded you from behind, fingers gripping your hips so tightly that phantom bruises descended upon your skin. The slickness of your abused hole did little to numb the pain of Simon’s rapid, unrelenting pace, of his engorged tip slipping deeper and deeper inside you, plugging you, making any form of escape from your impending unravelment impossible.

You could feel his cock, hot, heavy and ravenous, pulsating inside you, bringing you to the edge of electric euphoria with every thrust. 

“Good for nothin’ except takin’ my cock.” He spat, his hand sliding up your spine and rooting itself in your hair. He gripped at the base and pulled your head back, hissing in your ear.

“Isn’t that right, Darlin’?”

You wanted to speak. Wanted to tell him you were his, only his, but the words wouldn’t come out quick enough.

When you didn’t answer in time, he stopped. Pulled out, only the swollen tip remaining lodged inside.

Without warning, he pushed. Hard.

You’d felt full before, but this sudden influx of skin and muscle and heat was too much. It knocked the air out of you, made you cry out as Simon sank balls-deep inside you, impaling your shuttering, wanting body on his dick. He grunted, his grip on your hair tightening.

“That’s it,” he said as you whimpered, cried out. “Take it — take it like the slag you are.”

König

“You wanted this – you wanted me to take you. Fucking attention whore,”

König’s voice reached depths you didn’t think possible as he bounced you on his cock, his stomach coated in your juices as he lay beneath you, thrusting up to plant as much of his member in the tight cavern of your hole as possible.

Even from where he lay, he could see the outline of himself within you. He twitched. Tried to stave off from painting your insides white for just a little longer.

You had no choice but to take it – your wrists bound behind your back with König’s belt – to take every inch of König’s cock.

He stretched you out to lengths you didn’t think possible as he pulled you down onto the base of his member, causing tears to stream down your face as he hit a sliver of you you didn’t think existed.

“God, you’re nothing without me,” he asserted, teeth gritted and restraint pushed to the very limit. “Nothing but a rag doll on the end of my dick – only made for me to use as I please.”

You knew it was true, especially with the coil within you verging on snapping, sending you over the precipice of ruin. König gave you a sly, thin grin.

“Nobody else can fuck you like this, can make you cry like this.” His grip on your waist proved he wasn’t lying, shortened nails leaving crescent indents in your skin.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

Soap

“Don’t tell me you’re cryin’ on me now, Darlin’,” Johnny said, not an ounce of sympathy or empathy in his voice. If anything, the realisation that you were just about holding on as he railed you from behind seemed to make him go faster, push harder, knocking his thick, meaty cock into you at a pace that could only be savage.

“C’mon, show me you can take it. I know you can,” he goaded — or perhaps encouraged. You couldn’t be so sure, especially as you could barely string a thought together, never mind the inclination to ask. He watched you, made dead eye contact with you through the mirror that put your undoing on display for him, his eyes piercing and ice.

At your silence, Johnny slapped your backside. Harsh. You yelped at the sting and jolted forwards, only for Johnny to wrap a hand around your throat and pull him back. His balls were flush against your backside, the tightness of your bodies together making him grunt.

“C’mon, mo ghaol — tell me how much you need this dick — show me how much you deserve it.” He squeezed your throat.

Valeria

“You were begging to be used by me — wearing those tight shorts like I wouldn’t notice.” Valeria punctuated her point with a harsh thrust, sending you banging against her desk, ribs aching, pressed against sleek wood. Everything hurt.

The strap-on she’d chosen was one she reserved only for correcting your most egregious behaviour. Apparently, this extended to your fashion choices, too.

“Trying to make my men lose focus, huh? Is that it?” The sound and sensation of your body welcoming the cruel length of her weapon made your cheeks flush and your hole clench, trying to pull it deeper, begging for punishment.

“Have I not given you enough attention? Or are you just hungry for anyone who lays eyes on you,”

You whimpered, trying to keep your head level as your girlfriend battered your insides with nothing less than animalistic fervour and rage.

“You wanna dress like a cheap whore,” she said, voice deep and husking as she lowered her lips to your ear. “Then I get to fuck you like one — my whore.”

Price

“I love you,” he panted. “I love you, I love you, I love you–”

He couldn’t stop – these last few hours with you would be all he had before he had to go on deployment again. And he was determined to make them count.

He’d stuffed himself into you, made light work of grinding your sanity down to its bare foundations as your body shook with the onset of another orgasm.

You were already so sensitive, every knock of his tip against your sensitive spot sending equal euphoria and pain through you.

“Gonna cum in you again,” he said, voice lethargic, words slurred like the blurring edges of watercolours. “Gonna get it as deep as possible. Want it still in you by the time I reach Base.”

The many loads of cum he’d already pumped into you weighed heavy in your belly, almost creating its own centre of gravity as you fought to keep your swollen stomach off the mattress. Anytime you failed, the sensitivity of your skin, the feeling of his load stagnant inside you, made you wince.

You could feel John’s cum leaking out of you as he plunged deep, deeper still, forcing his seed out of the small spaces which weren’t suffocated by his almost impossible girth. 

Horangi

“Been stretching you out for hours and you’re still- ngh— fuckin’ tight.” Hong-Jin said, almost as if chiding you. He grunted, balls-deep yet nowhere near satisfied, his resolve being milked from him.

“Gonna need to–” he grunted, “break you in,”

Without warning, he pulled out – only halfway – and plunged back inside you with an almighty push. One that, despite not having the power of his whole length behind it, forced a strangled moan from you.

His breath caught as he felt himself slip into a deeper, darker part of you, one which seemed to try and reject him as your hole pulsed uselessly around him, as if to push him out.

He persisted. Hissing.

When he pulled out, he spotted something.

A small streak of blood along his shaft.

“Doing so well for me, Love,” he groaned, slipping back in and re-establishing a rhythm. You mewled beneath him.

“God, you’re so good — just lying down and taking it – like my own personal fleshlight.”

Alejandro

“So this is why you’ve been acting so strange recently, hm?” Alejandro spoke between pants, arms at either side of your head, blocking off everything that wasn’t him. He gritted his teeth, grunted at the feeling of you tightening around him as he brutalised you with his savage pace, stretching you out and making your hole spasm around his cock.

“Just needed a good fuck, didn’t you?”

You were all but drooling as Alejandro quite literally fucked you dumb, no thoughts in your head save for the desperate electricity between your legs.

When you didn’t answer — or rather couldn’t, for your mind was scarcely able to keep itself intact for the feeling of ruin rapidly descending upon you — Alejandro took your chin between his fingers and forced you to focus on him.

“Didn’t you.” He repeated. To that, the fire in his eyes, you managed a sloppy ‘yes’. Alejandro hummed, pressed himself closer, chest-to-chest.

“Don’t worry, Cariño — we’ve got all night to fuck that pretty little mouth back into working order.”

Rudy

Years of toil, training and discipline have shaped Rudy into the unsuspecting behemoth he is today; as was evident in the way you cried out when his dick skewered you, stretching you out and making your back arch against the mattress. He felt himself pressed to the wall of your abdomen as your stomach met his. He shivered.

“He can’t fuck you like this,” he said, voice low and seething, the intonation of a snake. His usual puppy-eyes were sharp, as if of a feline disposition. He watched you as your eyes, almost having rolled back into your skull, refused to meet his.

“Nobody can have you. You’re mine — only mine.” He slammed into you faster, giving you no preparation and only using the wetness already dripping from between your thighs there to slip in. 

“Now, tell me who you belong to.”

Your mouth, agape with silent pain, released nothing. Rudy raised his hand, slapped you. You yelped, the sting sending a shock between your legs. You clenched around him. He growled, head dipping to your collarbone, where you could feel his breath, scorching and unrelenting.

“Let’s try this one more time,” he rasped. When he looked up, his eyes were black. Gone was the man you loved.

“Or I won’t be so forgiving.”

Graves

“You like bein’ used by me, don’t ya,” Graves panted, struggling to keep up with the pace of his own euphoria. He could tell you were close, too, from the way tears streamed down your cheeks and how you suctioned around him, pulling him deeper, pleading with him for more.

“Love bein’ my favourite little cum dump — so well-behaved, just for me.”

Nothing could be truer as you felt him thrusting into you at a speed that suggested anger. 

“Never be good for anything except taking my cock like a good slut.”

Your tongue lolled out from the corner of your mouth, drool dripping onto the sheets as Phillip allowed you your silence, especially considering how you’d earned it. Your obedience, your willingness to take everything he gave you. You scratched just the right part of Graves’ ego that had sustained him for this long.

His eyes glinted as he looked down at you.

“Ain’t that right, Doll.”

Gaz

Gaz’s change in personality, admittedly, frightened you. Especially as he stood over you now, having bound your hands together tied them over your head to the bed frame.

You’d tried encouraging him to just touch you already, to take you now as you were bound and helpless. Hell, you’d even ground yourself against his boot, working yourself up into a frenzy all in an effort to make him crack.

He didn’t.

“Oh no,” he said, wagging a finger at you. “You don’t get my dick yet.”

Already having used his belt to immobilise you, he unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to his thighs along with his boxers. Half-hard and beading at the tip, he eyed you, a cruel smile at his lips.

“I’m gonna fuck your face so hard,” he continued, taking you by the hair and forcing your lips to his pulsing member, watching your eyes widen. “That you’ll be eating through a tube for the rest of the week.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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[lmaowhatt]

"can we please go?" - jj m.

summary: jj, ever the hormonal young adult, cant wait long enough for the two of you to get home from a party at the boneyard.

set: a short time after the pogues return from south america, probably between the 18 month time jump of s3 and s4. however, for my sanity, and some of yours, s4 doesnt exist.

pairing: jj maybank x pogue!reader

warnings: jj begging(?), horny/clingy jj, foreshadowing to sex.

if theres any others feel free to comment them!

the party at the boneyard, which now seemed like an annual occurrence had been in full swing for a couple of hours. the sun had fallen well below the horizon, the moonlight providing just enough light for the inexperienced —now drunk— tourons and some tipsy locals to move around without bumping into one another.

the seven pogues had split up somewhat early into the party. jj was currently hanging around some of his surfer friends, laughing and joking about . pope and cleo relished in their time where the other pogues were distracted to walk along the shore together.

kiara was sat on a log, talking to a random touron girl who you and sarah had both urged her to go talk to, teasing her about always sulking at home, being the last single one of the group. after some reluctance and continuous badgering from you, she agreed.

john b had distanced himself slightly, still rightfully sulking over his fathers passing during their return from south america. sarah had regularly gone to check on him, making sure he was okay before going back to where you stood, continuing the previously halted conversation.

jj glanced around the party, moving to fix the clasp of the flimsy shark tooth necklace that has somehow survived through everything the young adult had been through during the past two-ish years as his eyes landed on you. the boy bit the inside of his cheek as he shamelessly let his eyes wander down your body.

a pink spaghetti strapped top, the hem of which stopped right above your diaphragm, overlayed with a white knitted halter top. a blue ankle length skirt hung low on your waist with a small silver belt serving as a contrast to your gold dangly earrings, a mix of dainty silver and gold necklaces of different lengths hanging around your neck.

jj bit the inside of his cheek, watching your boobs bounce slighty as you laugh along to a joke sarah said, taking a sip of the beer in your grasp. he cleared his throat as he looked down at his feet, dragging a hand through this messy blonde locks, before placing his signature red cap backwards on his head.

"yo jj," one of his friends, jace, slapped the back of his shoulder to grab his attention. "you good?" the boy asked, furrowing his eyebrows as jj looked up from the ground. jj cleared his throat once more, trying to will away the waver he knew would be there as soon as he spoke.

"yeah, uhm. im good man." the blonde nodded, dapping jace up and waving a lazy hand to the others near him, "im gonna go, hit me up this weekend." jj spoke, fixing his shorts and rolling his shoulders back, weaving through the crowd as he made his way towards you.

you stumbled forward slightly as jj wrapped his arms around your shoulders, cradling his head down and placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "hi mama," he mumbled below your ear, raising his eyebrows at sarah as a form of greeting.

you placed a hand on his forearm, holding it as you rolled your eyes playfully at sarah. "hi baby. you okay?" you asked, smiling at sarah as she excused herself to 'find john b.' you sighed, leaning back ever so slightly as jj began peppering soft kisses onto your neck and along your collarbone.

"can we go home?" he muttered in between kisses. you laughed softly, turning to face him as his lips detached from your soft skin. jjs eyes naturally wandered to your chest, which was more accentuated as it pressed against his.

you snapped your fingers near his face, "eyes up here, maybank." you smiled as his eyes eventually flickered up to yours, his arms loosely wrapping around your waist. he let out a soft whine, "please baby? this.." he huffed out a heavy breath, forcing his eyes to stay locked on yours. "this outfit.. definitely one of your best. can we please go?" he asked with pleading eyes.

you tilted your head with a smirk playing at your lips, "but the party only started a while ago, you dont have friends to catch up with?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his neck and watching as he bit the inside of his cheek softly in thought.

he eventually shook his head. the boy didnt have a valid reason whatsoever, he just wanted to spend some 'quality time' with you, away from the others of course. "they can wait. this cant baby." he said, motioning towards them, then towards you and him with his finger.

you sighed as you looked around at the party. sure, you were having fun after going through weeks, if not months of hell with the entire el dorado situation, and the entire 'being hunted for weeks' situation.

you looked back at jj, whos eyes hadn't moved from your features. with a soft sigh, you silently agreed, taking a hold of his hand and leading him to the twinkie which was parked on the side of the street. jj moved to wrap his arms around your shoulders as you walked the both of you to the twinkie. "i love you much, yknow that?" he whispered into your ear.

just as you went to talk, he interrupted once more. "not for this. trust me, its a perk alright, but i love you for you." he kissed your neck softly. "i love you for how you treat me," he sucked lightly. "i love you for how you treat our friends like family." he swiped his tongue over the small bruise.

"i just love you."

a/n: this is my first ever fic on tumblr so pls be nice. or dont 😭

[syluslnd]

Hello, I love your headcanons! May I ask for a S/O who secretly doesn't feel attractive??. Until one day they say "I'm so lucky to have you, even tho I'm not pretty" as if they are used to it. Thanks!

Sylus reaction to his S/O who is insecure

You're sitting across from Sylus, having a casual conversation, sipping on tea while he casually scrolls through something on his tablet. It's a peaceful moment, his presence grounding as always but your mind drifts for a second. Absentmindedly, you say “I'm so lucky to have you... even though I'm not pretty."

The words slip out so casually but they hit Sylus like a ton of bricks. His head snaps up and for a moment, there's disbelief in his dark eyes, as though he can't believe what he just heard. His gaze sharpens and without saying a word, he sets his tablet aside.

"Kitten" he says, his voice low and commanding “what did you just say?"

You blink, a little startled by the intensity in his tone. "What? I'm just saying... I'm lucky, you could have someone way more beautiful!"

Before you can react, Sylus stands and pulls you onto him with a firm but gentle grip.You're pressed against his chest and his eyes lock onto yours, intense and unwavering.

"Sweetie, I don't ever want to hear you say that again”he says, his voice a mix of frustration and something softer, more protective. His hands cup your face, tilting it toward his and he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, then your lips. "You have the prettiest face" he murmurs between kisses, his voice dropping to a husky whisper "and it's all mine."

You can't help but flush under his attention but before you can protest, Sylus grabs your wrist gently, lifting your hand to his lips.

"These hands" he says, kissing your palm "are the prettiest l've ever seen. I love every little part of them." His lips travel down to each finger, teasingly slow, making sure you feel every kiss.

"Sylus, I-" you start to protest, but he silences you with a mischievous grin, his teasing only intensifying.

"Oh, l'm not done" he says, his voice playful yet firm. He runs his hands along your sides, letting them rest on your waist for a moment before pulling you closer. "This waist?Prettiest waist l've ever touched” he purrs, his hands traveling lower until they settle on your hips.

He grips you firmly, not letting you squirm away as his lips press against the curve of your stomach. "And don't even get me started on this tummy, kitten. Prettiest thing I've ever laid my hands on."

You're starting to blush harder now, squirming under his relentless teasing but Sylus's hands slip down to your thighs, his touch sending a shiver up your spine.

"And these thighs?" he says, his voice dipping lower, full of amusement and affection. "Sweetie, I could write poetry about how pretty they are."

"Sylus..." you mumble, flustered and trying to hide your face but he's not having it. He tilts your chin back up, his thumb brushing over your lips.

"Say it" he commands softly, though there's a teasing edge in his tone. "Say you're pretty."

You try to resist, biting your lip but Sylus leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "I'll keep going, kitten. Every inch of you is beautiful and I'll remind you of that until you say it yourself."

Your heart races as he kisses your collarbone, his hands still tracing your body as though each part of you deserves a special touch. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of teasing, you manage to whisper,

"I'm pretty."

Sylus smirks, satisfied but not done yet.

"Louder."

You blush deeper, but the way he's looking at you-like you're the most precious thing he's ever seen-gives you courage. "I'm pretty."

He chuckles softly, his hand cupping your cheek once more. "Damn right you are and don't you ever forget it."