#the big bro experience dude | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fakeuwus · 8 months ago

Text

MANEATER | SIM JAEYUN (M)

PAIRING: virgin!jake x yn (femreader)

SYNOPSIS: in which jake is tired of being a virgin and you're asked to help him out.

WARNINGS: smut so MDNI! vrignity loss, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe out there), creampie, riding, multiple orgasms, etc. cursing, words like slut/whore, BARELY PROOFREAD

WC: 5k, lowercase intended

MESSAGE FROM NIC: here it finally is!! (sorry for the delay) my first piece of smut,,, hope it's what everyone imagined 😁 (also tysm for 2k notes on the teaser ahh!!) big thank u to my stella, @karinasbaby for encouraging this fic, one of my biggest supporters ilysm. pls be kind as this is something new for me BUT feedback is super appreciated, tell me what u liked and didn't like! (respectfully) also reblogs would be nice as well so feel free to drop one. love u guys sm 🫶🏼

jake sim was a virgin. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. and it’s not like he was ugly. not even close to that. jake was an attractive guy, easy on the eyes. and his flirting? a real smooth talker he was.

it was as if 2000s chad michael murray possessed his very soul every single time he would chat up a girl at a party or in class.

so why couldn't he ever close the deal? how did he find himself in a steamy makeout session one second and then the next the girl is storming out of the room in disgust. every. single. time.

oh yea, because he was a fucking virgin. a pitiful, pitiful virgin.

it seemed like girls these days wanted a man in charge. someone who could help them live out their fifty shades of grey fantasies. jake would like to think he could do that for them but how could he ever learn if no one wanted to give him the time of day? what happened to the girls that would spread their legs for anything and anyone?

all jake needed was one chance. one chance to stick his dick in a hole and he can move on with his life.

his friends didn't make it any better either. he was getting tired of hearing all about their wild sexcapades every week and having nothing to contribute to the conversation.

but they don’t intentionally leave him out or make him feel bad about his lack of experience. they even try getting him with their past hookups because you know, sharing is caring right?

“dude no way you fumbled sora. she’s a real slut i was so sure she would let you hit,” sunghoon says as he’s unwrapping his sandwich then taking a bite. “bro i didn't fumble anything. it's the same shit every time, once i tell them im a virgin they dip,” jake responds while he steals sunghoon’s sandwich and takes a bite for himself.

sunghoon doesn't even argue, his best friend is clearly in distress and is need of some food. “she started ranting about how she doesnt “do” virgins because they get attached and she thinks im gonna become obsessed with her or something.”

“why do you even tell them you’re a virgin in the first place? if that's the issue why even say anything at all?” heeseung questions with a mouth full of the same sandwich that somehow now ended up in his hands.

“because if he cums in .2 seconds then the girls are gonna think he’s a bad fuck. there's no winning here.” jake nods in agreement with jay's statement as he watches jay snatch the sandwich from heeseung and finish it off.

this is what is so beautiful about their friendship. they share everything with each other, the main things being girls and food. unfortunately for jake, bites of food is all he gets.

—-----------------

“oh fuck!” jakes pants while bucking his hips forward. vision blurry, drool pooling around the corner of his mouth. he genuinely feels like his soul is leaving his body and he wasn’t sure this was even real life anymore. to ground himself and bring him back to reality, he tries looking around the room to find something to distract him.

he doesn’t want to cum embarrassingly fast and he does NOT want to be seen as a bad fuck. out of the corner of his eye he spots a baby yoda squishmallow in the corner of the room, its sparkly eyes watching jake get his dick sucked for the first time.

it’s kind of weird but he finds comfort in the plushie and focuses on it to keep him from fucking exploding.

now you might be wondering how he got here. in a hot girl’s room getting what he swears is the best head in his life (not that he has anything to compare it to.) the answer is jay, his best friend in the entire world who he now owes his first born to.

“her name’s yn. just text her and ask when she wants to meet. i told her you were a virgin already so don’t worry about that,” jay explains as he’s scrolling through your profile showing jake what you look like.

silky, flowy hair, curves to die for. to say you’re gorgeous would be an understatement. the whole ordeal seemed too good to be true.

“she wants to fuck me? even after hearing i’m a virgin?” jake asks after grabbing his milk tea from the counter and walking towards a table.

jay simply nods and throws a look towards sunghoon, signaling him to explain the rest as they all take a seat. “yea that’s kind of her thing. she loves virgins. like, her body count consists of only virgins.”

jake was perplexed by the situation. surely he’d hear about a beautiful woman who only drops her panties for inexperienced guys roaming their campus.

heeseung then speaks up, as if reading jake’s mind, “she goes to the college in the next town over. around a 20 minute drive.” before continuing his sentence he shifts his eyes towards jay and sunghoon. eyeballs darting back and forth.

some unspoken dialogue is happening between the three as they sip their sweet drinks and jake just has to sit there and watch. minutes go by and jay clears his throat and sighs, finally breaking the silence.

“she uh, actually took all of our virginities back in high school. that’s how we know her.”

pause. the fuck? he knew his friends all have gotten their dicks wet for the same girl before but at the same time? jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. i mean, he did only just meet them three years ago, whatever they were up to before then he can’t judge.

he supposes desperate times call for desperate measures, and jake is sure he would’ve ended up in the same situation soon if they weren’t handing you on a silver platter to him.

“so… you guys had a foursome for your first times??”

heeseung instantly chokes on his boba as jake’s arm receives a punch from jay. a faint giggle is heard from sunghoon, “this bitch is choking on some balls.”

ignoring heeseung’s dramatics jay clarifies, “no you idiot, she took all of our virginities separately. we weren’t as desperate as you were.”

“and like, that pussy is so heavenly. i’d be pissed having to share her with another guy at the same time.”

“roger that, brother.”

jake looks towards the two, sunghoon rubbing heeseung’s back trying to calm him down from his almost near death over some balls.

“care to elaborate?”

“man why do you think we’re all sex crazed freaks? her pussy’s got some voodoo magic in it or something. our manhood didn’t begin when we watched porn for the first time together, it started with her,” jay pauses and shifts in his seat, slight discomfort in his lower region.

he looks up and pinches his nose, “fuck i’m getting hard just thinking about it.” sneaking a peek at jay’s lower half, jake can see his friend chubbing it up in his pants. nothing he’s never seen before honestly.

but what he hadn't seen before was how his friends were reminiscing so hard on a hook up the way they were right now. and the fact that their origin story of discovering their high libidos is all because of you? he was scared shitless of what he was about to get himself into.

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

fast forward to some exchanged texts between you guys, jake found himself in your room with his pants around his ankles getting the life sucked out of him.

he quickly discovered you were very straightforward and to the point, immediately sending him your apartment address and what time to show up.

jake couldn’t argue though, all this talk about how you were gonna “change his life” and shit got him real worked up. he appreciated the fact that you skipped the small talk and went straight for his dick.

upon arriving and stepping into your living space, your lips smashed onto his and he was pushed down onto the bed. no hi, no hello. just your lucious, full lips swapping spit with his.

his hands instinctively flew to your waist, his digits gripping your plush skin as you straddle him. jake felt so in his element in the moment. making out? this is where he excels. he could do this all day if he could.

but he was here on a mission and he’ll be damned if he leaves without fucking you. or you fucking him. he was honestly down for whatever. you could ask to peg him and he would say yes.

you can sense his impatience, his face twisting in pleasure trying to savor every moment while the cogs are turning in his head, awaiting your next move. every squeeze he gave signaled that he wanted to get things moving.

you make your way down his body, peppering kisses any and everywhere leaving his skin burning. jake couldn’t believe what was about to happen.

in less than a minute he was about to get his first blowjob ever. what does he do? where do his hands go? what if he chokes you? what if he passes out from the stimulation?

before he can think of anymore what to do’s and what if’s, your mouth is on his dick and jake is seeing stars, figuratively and literally. he takes note of the little ones taped to your ceiling and thinks it’s cute.

the pink walls and plushies surrounding the two of you is such a stark contrast to your personality, or what little jake knows of you. but hey, he likes a woman with some duality to her.

“you can put your hands in my hair.”

jake finally takes a look down at you. pupils blown out, lips a bit swollen from all the sucking. you looked so, so pretty like this. he can only imagine what you look like with his cock in you.

trembling hands grab at your hair, slightly pushing you further down and a gagging noise emerges from the back of your throat. oh shit. your nose is practically meeting his pelvic bone and you aren’t letting up.

fuck it, jake thinks to himself. he was done with being patient. he starts fucking up into your mouth relentlessly, chasing the orgasm he was delaying. and you just let him.

you’re merely a hole for him in this moment and you could care less. his dick may be average in size but the girthiness of it was so delicious, you couldn’t get enough.

to make sure he reaches his high, you reach for his balls and start playing with them. his erratic thrusts combined with you squeezing his genitals he twitches in your mouth and his cum is shooting out, pooling out the sides of your lips.

and you don’t stop there. you keep going and going and jake actually feels like he’s going to pass out. “okay, okay please please!” you swallow everything he gave you and finally let him go with a pop to come up for air.

you get up and see him lying there on your bed, unmoving. eyes closed and mouth agape barely taking breaths. one might think he’s dead but this was typical.

once a guy gets to cum in a girl’s mouth for the first time they don’t know what to do with themselves. nudging him with your knee he breaks out of his trance with a lopsided smile adorning his face. god he’s adorable.

before you can suggest a break he immediately grabs you by the hips and flips you onto your back. your shorts go flying onto the floor behind him and he spreads your legs wide to prop them onto his shoulders.

his tongue immediately attaches to your clit and he starts licking you all over. slurping and sucking, as if this was his last meal on earth. he was desperate to get you to cum the way you made him and it was showing.

jake’s eating you out a little too expertly to your liking, as if he’s done this a million times. you won’t judge if he has, you’re literally the last person to judge someone’s sexual history but how is he still a virgin if he eats pussy this good?

he must’ve been met with horrible women who just used him for his mouth and left him dry. you wouldn’t do that to him though, poor guy doesn’t deserve that.

he inserts two fingers into your hole while his mouth was still working your clit. jesus christ. you didn’t notice before but his fingers were so slender and long, reaching places your own didn’t. “am i doing okay? kind of my first time.”

oh? so this was his first time eating pussy. you simply give him a nod of approval, not being able to utter a word as he dives right back in.

in all of your sexual encounters, never has there been a guy so willing to return the favor. and the fact that you didn’t even have to ask? where the fuck did jay find a guy like this? was he aware his friend was a fucking certified munch?

determined to make sure you cum, jake inserts another finger and moves his fingers in an upward motion, trying to find your spot. at least that’s what wikihow told him how to do it.

the sound of your moans and the taste of your pussy on his tongue simply feel amazing and he feels like he could come alone like this. at this point you’re panting and riding his fingers and god it’s so hot. you’re so hot.

jake finds himself humping into the mattress, trying to aid his painful hard on he’s grown since going down on you.

his wrist begins to ache with how fast he’s pumping into you but he doesn’t give a fuck, he’ll do anything to see what you look like when you reach your high.

“oh god, i’m, i’m- ahhh!” you come undone onto his mouth and hand, lips forming an o shape with the most pornographic moan he’s ever heard and he silently releases his load along with you onto the bed.

jake makes sure every single drop of your delicious juices are all licked up, driving your oversensitivity.

“so? how was i?”

you take a look at his annoyingly cute face and he’s licking all over his fingers like a lollipop. cute. gaining some of your composure, your eyes spot a wet spot on your sheets.

“wait, did you…”

“oh. sorry about that. i couldn’t help it.” jake explains with a sheepish smile and a scratch behind his head. not only is this guy a munch but he came untouched while tongue fucking you. you weren’t even sure guys like him existed, like at all.

without speaking another word, you grab the back of his neck and smash your lips onto his. tasting yourself on him has you wet all over again and you both begin to undress each other.

you detach yourself to take your shirt off and he pauses to fully look at you, drinking in every inch of your body. hands grab at your boobs and he pinches a nipple, a small moan escaping your mouth.

your body was literally to die for, the pictures on your profile barely doing you justice. and to finally be able to feel all around your curves and give your boods and ass tight squeezes was a dream come true for jake.

(he may or may not have been jerking off to the few posts you have up, counting down the days of you guys finally meeting but you didn’t have to know that)

you also took a moment to admire his body. to say jake was sculpted like a fucking greek god was an understatement, sporting a six pack and biceps to die for. veins running all over his arms and hands.

deciding it’s finally time to do the deed, you switch positions and motion for him to lay on his back. “are you ready?”

“wait! what about a condom?”

“i’m clean and i know you are so…”

“right.”

you throw your legs over his waist, now straddling him with your vagina inches from his cock. “okay, take deep breaths. i’m gonna slowly go down alright?”

jake throws a thumbs up and eagerly nods. in a moment like this he doesn’t fail to be endearing. you could literally just eat him up with how cute he was. your pussy was about to anyway.

you lace your fingers with his and slowly lower yourself onto him. there’s some intimacy with your actions and jake finds comfort in your eyes, looking at him adoringly.

it was finally fucking happening and jake couldn’t believe it. he was about to become a man. and the fact that it was you taking his virginity, a gorgeous woman who doesn’t care that he’s inexperienced and lets him hit it raw. it's really all he can ask for.

once your walls are wrapped around his tip, jake’s a goner. the little sweet moment you two shared is thrown out the window and he starts bucking his hips up into you, hard and fast.

his hands find purchase on your hips and he’s gripping them so hard you're sure there will be bruises tomorrow. you wanted to start out slow as it is his first time but it seems his thrusting says otherwise.

you press your hands against his chest and begin to move rhythmically in sync with him. jake’s eyes immediately roll back and his breathing quickens.

his hands fall to his side and he lays lifeless beneath you, letting you take full control.

all he could do was stare at the spot where his dick entered you and it was making him even more hornier. he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.

your wetness didn’t help anything either. the squelching sounds indicated that you were very much enjoying this as much as he was.

“fuck you feel so good baby,” jake moans. the pet name that slips past his lips and it doesn’t go unnoticed but you also don’t question it.

for some reason the simple word made your heart jump. guys always called things like babe or even whore when they really let loose.

those never got to your head, you know they couldn’t really control themselves in the moment and you let them have their fun.

but jake has been nothing but kind to you this whole time, like he knew you were doing him a service and not the other way around.

this only fueled your desire to ensure that his sure first time exceeded his expectations so upped your menstrations. you quickly changed your pace to grind forward, backwards, and in circles making sure his dick felt every inch of you.

jake’s mind was reeling, his breath caught in his throat. he feels as if his dick was about to fall off with the way you were moving.

your body leans forward and you begin to kiss at his neck, leaving hickeys everywhere. your hot breath near his ear sends him into overdrive, must be a sensitive spot of his he never knew he had, but also how could he have known?

his hands that were once gripping the sheets meet your ass and he starts to guide you up and down his cock. you both were about to reach your climaxes, your pussy clenching with every move.

“i’m- where? fuck! where do i cum?”

“inside. cum inside me please.”

inside?? his first time cumming from sex and you were gonna let him do it inside of you? jake swears you couldn’t be any more perfect than you are right now.

you knew you threw him for a loop and honestly yourself as well. pushing these thoughts towards the back of your head you start riding him aggressively, even faster than before. “fuck, jake i’m cumming!”

“me too baby oh my god!”

and there was that damn pet name again. it makes your heart leap out of your chest and sends you over the edge.

the knot in your stomach snaps and jake follows shortly after, his load shooting into you. it pools out of you and you don’t hesitate to swipe some up with a delicate finger and bring it to your mouth, mirroring his actions from earlier.

your eyes meet his fucked out ones and you smile down at him, admiring the masterpiece of lovebites you left all over him. his vision was a bit blurry but he catches the way your lips curled upward, flashing your pearly whites.

jake finds himself instantly becoming hard again, call him easy but when a pretty girl is smiling at him like that after fucking him, can you really blame him?

you move yourself off of him and jake was fully expecting you to kick him out now but instead you position yourself on all fours, your ass in the air inviting him in.

“fuck. you’re into anal?”

you turn your head sharply to look at him over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow to question what he just said. the look you give him says it all and jake takes the hint and positions himself behind you.

“can we try anal next time though?”

an exasperated sigh leaves your lips and you reach over to grab his dick, inserting him into you. “umph! okay sorry.”

upon entering your pussy, jake relishes in the feeling of it. being inside your heat again leaves him breathless for the nth time today.

in and out. in and out. he tries to match his breathing with his gradual strokes. his member is extra sensitive right now and he’s trying not to lose himself. the impatience he had earlier has now moved onto you so you decide to take matters into your own hands and start fucking back into him.

your ass is now meeting his hips and the sound of skin slapping echoes in your room along with your moans. jake’s body is flailing from the sudden impact but he grounds his hands around your waist and grips the shit out of you.

he notices bruises forming on your skin but he can’t for the life of him let go. oops. he’ll do his best to remember to apologize for them tomorrow.

when there’s a good pace between the two of you, you fling yourself upward, back meeting his chest and the new angle has him reaching spots he didn’t before.

you take one of his strong arms and place it around your neck, having him choke you as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow. jake’s brain begins to turn to mush and he feels like he’s even more turned on at the revelation of one of your kinks.

and at this point you’re fucking onto him so hard, so good, he didn’t want it to end. “shit. shit. i love your pussy so much baby.” jake whines into your ear, meaning every word he said.

is it crazy to say you love someone upon meeting them for the first time? well, their pussy. yea. maybe. but who gives a fuck.

he was a man possessed by you, by your pussy. in this moment he truly believed there was some voodoo magic going on down there and he was blessed to be experiencing it.

you clench at his words, and your heart flips once more, prompting you to draw him closer to you (if that was even remotely possible)

the closeness of your bodies creates another intimate moment shared, kisses stolen from one another, hands tangled in his hair.

“i’m close,” he whispers in your ear, his breath leaving tingles down your spine. the hushed whispers you exchange contrast the sporadic thrusting that’s happening.

determined to reach your second high of the day, you push jake onto his back and settle yourself onto your knees, continuing to bounce up and down on his cock.

“yea just like that baby, shit shit shit i’m cumming, i’m cumming!”

jake opens his eyes to watch the scene unfold before him and god was it something. your back arches as you take his cum in you once more and your screams fill his ears, signaling you orgasmed right after him.

this moment alone is better than porn itself, and jake savors every bit of it. there’s absolutely no way he can even bring himself to type “nsfw” in his twitter search bar ever again after this.

you hover yourself over him leaving just the tip inside before sliding right back down, pushing his seed back in while it gushes around his cock leaving jake wanting, no needing, a third round with you.

but to his dismay you roll yourself off of his body, landing on the mattress next to him.

“so… how do you feel?”

he releases a long exhale he didn’t know he was holding, “fantastic. 10/10 experience. would do it again.” you simply giggle at his response with a shake of your head, getting up to gather your clothes.

“wait! um, could we do this again?”

you playfully roll your eyes at him, leaving his question unanswered as you begin to dress yourself.

—-----------------

sat in his computer chair, jake is finding it difficult to finish this stupid ethics assignment. how is he supposed to argue about the death penalty when you straight up almost murdered him with your pussy less than 2 hours ago?

he’s sure his professor wouldn’t appreciate if he wrote that he doesn’t give a fuck about someone serving their punishment if the culprit was you, but honestly speaking he’d let you get away with just about anything. you were an angel sent from above to him who could do no wrong.

the way your soft lips wrapped around his cock while your innocent (not) eyes bored into his soul. the way you licked and kissed every single inch of his body, leaving nothing left untouched. and god, the way you worked his dick? how was he supposed to move on from you??

you were an insatiable, sex-crazed goddess. a once in a lifetime experience he was so grateful to have.

his thoughts are interrupted by a loud knocking at his door. two seconds later, jay trails into jake’s room followed by dumb and dumber, all of them having a snug look on their faces.

they make themselves comfortable before they get right into the interrogation. jay leans against the desk, sunghoon sits in the bean bag situated in the corner, and heeseung sprawls himself across the bed.

“so virgin, how was it?”

“wasn’t i right about her pussy?”

“where did she make you cum?”

eyes rolling in the back of his head, jake takes a deep sigh before answering their questions. “one, i’m not a virgin anymore so stop calling me that. two, it was absolutely fucking amazing. literally would give up heaven for it. and three, she had me cum in her. twice.”

heeseung shoots up from his position, jaw dropped and eyes wide. “you came in her twice?!” the boys all share a bewildered expression on their faces, dramatic as always.

jake just shrugs at them, what? didn’t you usually let guys cum in you like the freak you were?

jay slaps his hands down on jake’s shoulders, aggressively turning the computer chair towards him. “jake. buddy. yn has two rules.”

sunghoon suddenly appears on jay’s left, “one. you can’t cum in her. you can cum anywhere BUT inside of her.”

heeseung follows and is now on jay’s right side, “and two. she doesn’t repeat fuck.”

immediately following this revelation there’s silence. complete and utter silence. the gazes they hold are intense and uninviting. as if they truly couldn’t believe you let their best friend who’s never felt the touch of a woman break one of your rules.

their eyes say it all, they love jake to death and are happy for him, like seriously happy and relieved he’s finally entered manhood. but really? none of them got to do what he did? what was so special about him?

you don’t even know the answer to those questions yourself. maybe it was the puppy eyes or his whiny moans that made you feel like you had him in the palm of your hands.

his eagerness to pleasure you but to also receive reminded you of the sole purpose of why you only go for virgins. they made you feel wanted while also letting you be in charge. call it selfishness but why can’t a girl have the best of both worlds?

and you’d never admit it, but jake was one of the best fucks you’ve had in a while. he never tried to be someone he wasn’t, just authentically himself. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. and he was proud of it.

it was refreshing to fuck someone who didn’t have some sort of ego right after you were done with them. immediately bragging to everyone what you two did and acting like they could pull any girl as if you weren’t doing charity work for most of them.

with all of this in mind, of course you let him cum in you. he was doing so well for you, how could you not reward him? had to let him do it twice to drive it home.

and seriously, what kind of guy gives you a tender, sweet goodbye kiss and thanks you for defiling him? you didn’t regret your decisions with him but they were definitely scaring you.

never have you ever been this intimate with a guy, but jake was different. you felt it. and what you did next didn’t scare you as much as your recent choices with him.

*ping!*

the staredown between jake and his friends comes to a halt and he digs his phone out of his pocket to check it. sliding up, he sees the message appear on his screen:

you: are you free tomorrow?

he glances at his friends’ expectant eyes and throws them a smirk. looks like he gets to break that second rule of yours.

TAGLIST: @alvojake @jaylaxies @ikeuverse @pprodsuga @criminalseung @slut4hee @wonuqrtz @sansluvr @juniorjuneper @hoonven @sunshine-skz @luvyouloser @cha0ticpisces @no-daddy-just-issues-148 @hoseokteardrop @jakehooni @minniejenseo @niniissus @capri-cuntz @simpjay @chansloverr @esloao @strawbrrycuteblog @enhaslxt @vveebee @sakanelli-afc @felixbrownies @yunjinswifee @bobaikeu @minaateez @river-demon-slayer @sjylouvre @nyxtwixx @wonderlandless @eddieeddiesblog @moon4moony @skzenhalove @na-x2 @binniesbabe @monstaxdirtywonk @lauover @iheartjayke @jwsflower @notevenheretbh1 @rik1zzluv @ang0308 @kpopaussieline @jaehyuniewifeu

#nic's library ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#fakeuwus #fic: maneater #jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #enhypen smut #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen #jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake enhypen

3K notes · View notes

cloudtransprncy · 4 days ago

Text

Cheat Code

ITZY Yuna x Male Reader | 5k words Part 1 out of ? Tags: PWP, Blowjob, Size Kink, Cock Worship, Mutual Horny Chaos, 2nd Person POV, Yuna Is Down Catastrophic

She said glasses and earrings were a cheat code—so you tested it. No big deal. Just an experiment. But the second Yuna opens the door, she short-circuits, and next thing you know, she’s on her knees. I guess it works?

The car is parked in your usual spot, tucked away from the main road where the streetlights don’t quite reach. It’s summer.

The air outside warm enough that the windows are cracked just enough to let the night breeze slip through. Chill R&B hums from the speakers, blending into the comfortable silence between you and Yuna.

Yuna’s lounged back, slides kicked off, feet propped up on the dashboard like she owns the place. Her phone screen flashes in quick bursts as she scrolls TikTok, fingers moving lazily while she sips from her boba. Cropped pink tank, low-rise jeans that hang just right, a couple of delicate rings on her fingers—casual but calculated, effortless, she knows she’s hot and she owns it.

You’re half-watching, half-zoned out, fingers drumming absently against your drink. Not thinking about how good she looks. Or trying not to.

Then she speaks, totally unprompted.

“Glasses and earrings are such a fucking cheat code for guys.”

You blink, slow to process. “…Huh?”

She doesn’t even look up from her phone. “Like, if a dude who’s my type pulls up with that? Whip it out already, I’m on my knees.”

You choke on your boba. Cough, nearly die, and have to thump your own chest to recover. “You’re a slut”

Yuna finally spares you a glance, completely serious. “I’m sooo serious. Glasses? Hot. Earrings? Hot. Together? Killy me now. Instant buff.”

You recover, rubbing your throat. “Any guy?”

She scoffs. “Obviously he has to be cute, I’m not gonna suck off some rando that's ugly and gross.”

You stare at her, a mix of disbelief and amusement creeping in.

Yuna shifts, folding a leg under her and turning fully towards you, sitting up. Her tank top rides up just slightly, exposing a sliver of skin, but you don’t look for too long. She leans in like she’s about to tell you the secrets of the universe. “Like, okay, hear me out.”

You sigh, playing along. “K, I’m listening.”

“The glasses just make the guy look smart, but like, not too smart. Unless he’s a nerd, but you get my point.”

“Suuure.”

“The earrings? Hot. Earrings are just hot. Like, I wear earrings. I’m hot.”

You stare at her, unimpressed. “I don’t get it.”

She waves a hand, exasperated. “Like, hot but not too hot, smart but not too smart. ya get me?.”

You squint. “But what if the guy’s ugly?”

She pauses, then scoffs. “See, that’s where it’s tough, ‘cause the buff only works if you’re already cute, ya know? Or like… almost hot.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You saying some guys are almost hot?”

“Yeah, bro, like some guys just need to hit the gym, dress better, get some earrings.”

You just give her a look, telling her you don’t really get it.

Silence lingers for a beat. Then she shrugs, says it so offhandedly you almost don’t catch it. “Like, you’d actually be hot if you tried.”

Your brain stalls. “…What?”

She doesn’t look up, just sips her boba. “You heard me.”

You’re still blinking. “No, repeat that.”

A slow, shit-eating grin spreads across her face. “Nope.”

“That felt personal.”

“It wasn’t. But if you feel attacked…”

You scoff, sitting up slightly. “I literally gym, and you gotta admit I dress nice.”

She finally looks at you, eyes dragging over your plain black tee and gray sweats, unimpressed.

You gesture vaguely. “When I go out.”

She snorts, shaking her head but doesn't disagree. “Yeah, aight.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re basically saying I would be hot if I wasn’t ugly.”

Another shrug. “That’s not what I’m saying, but if that’s what you’re hearing…”

You laugh it off, shake your head, shift the conversation elsewhere. But Yuna? She sits with it, lets the words settle.

The idea is planted.

She doesn’t bring it up again, but it lingers. Her gaze flickers to you when you’re not looking, her teeth pressing lightly into her bottom lip like she’s trying not to think too hard about it. Then, just as quickly, she shakes it off, scrolling her phone with a little too much focus.

A week later…

The drive to Yuna’s place feels normal—same streets, same turn signals, same playlist humming low through your speakers. But today? Today’s different. Today, you’re running a test.

You grip the wheel with one hand, glancing at yourself in the rearview mirror. Glasses on. You always needed them, just never wore them. Now? Gentle Monster frames, clean, sharp. A flex, but a subtle one.

Earrings? Left ear—a small silver star stud. Right ear—a tiny dagger earring. A balance of soft and sharp. Like you weren’t thinking about it, but also? You were.

Your fit? Casual but intentional.

Black compression shirt, snug and sculpting but not obnoxious. Grey wide-leg sweats, laid-back and effortless. Fresh kicks, spotless with no creases.

It’s intentional, but not try-hard. Like you just threw shit on, but somehow, everything fell into place.

You exhale, tapping your fingers against the steering wheel.

Let’s see if she notices.

You knock. A shuffle of footsteps inside. The door swings open.

Yuna stands there, the striped pajama set hugging her tiny waist, sitting snug on her hips, showing just enough skin to be lethal. The fabric stretches over her curves, hinting at the toned stomach underneath, the kind of body that looks soft but still tight in all the right places.

Her red hair falls in messy waves, catching hallway light like she planned the whole damn lighting setup. Even "just hanging at home," her skin glows with that I-woke-up-like-this perfection you know for a fact takes at least three serums to achieve. Light makeup—because of course she wouldn't be completely bare-faced—just enough to make her eyes wider, her lips fuller, slightly glossed and parted in what starts as a greeting but dies somewhere in her throat.

She was expecting movie night. Takeout containers. Stupid debates about whether pineapple belongs on pizza. The usual safe routine.

Instead, she gets you. Version 2.0.

Her entire body freezes. Processing.

Her eyes make a deliberate journey: glasses, earrings—that small hesitation when she notices they're mismatched—down to how your shirt remembers every gym session you've been putting in, lingering just a beat too long where your sweats hang low, then back up to your face with the slow-dawning realization that you've weaponized her own words against her.

She straight-up blue-screens.

Her weight shifts subtly, thighs pressing together like she's trying to create pressure where she suddenly needs it. Her fingers flex at her sides, curling then uncurling like she's physically restraining herself. The sharp inhale is audible—chest rising, lips parting before she catches herself. A full system restart happening in real time.

"What. The. Fuck." It comes out flat, almost accusatory, like you've committed a personal offense.

You can't help the smirk. "What?"

Yuna's eyes narrow, flicking to your earrings again with something dangerously close to hatred—not for the accessories, but for how effectively you've played her. Her jaw works, tension visible as she grinds her teeth. The mental battle is written across her face: pride versus want, restraint versus impulse.

"You're a fucking bitch," she mutters, the words carrying more heat than venom.

Your grin widens, victory sweet on your tongue. "Hmm? Didn't catch that."

No verbal response. Just the sudden, almost violent way her fingers hook into your shirt, yanking you inside before kicking the door shut with enough force to rattle the frame.

Her grip on your wrist is tight—too tight to be casual, not tight enough to hurt. She pulls you down the familiar hallway, the same path you've walked a hundred times before, except now your heart hammers against your ribs like it's trying to escape. This isn't movie-night Yuna leading you to her bedroom to argue about Netflix choices. This is something else entirely.

The words barely form in your mouth before your back hits her mattress, the air rushing from your lungs in a soft "oof." Suddenly everything is different. Same room—same fairy lights strung across her headboard, same pile of clothes heaped on her desk chair, same vague scent of vanilla and something distinctly her—but the air feels electrically charged, dense with potential.

She climbs onto you with feline precision, one knee planted on either side of your thighs, lowering herself with a deliberate slowness that borders on torture. The weight of her settles against you—warm, solid, undeniable. The smirk playing at her lips is both challenge and promise, a silent I told you so mixed with you're going to regret this in the best way possible.

And just like that, the tables turn.

Your earlier confidence dissolves under her gaze. Your breath catches as she studies you like a meal she's about to devour, eyes dragging from your face to your throat, lingering on the pulse point there before traveling lower to where your shirt has ridden up to expose a strip of skin.

Pure instinct drives your hands to her hips, fingers just grazing the warm skin exposed between her top and pajama bottoms—but before you can get a proper grip, she's caught your wrists. One fluid motion and your arms are pinned against the wall above your head, chest exposed, completely at her mercy. Her nails dig just enough into your skin to send a shiver racing down your spine, a silent warning that makes your pulse spike.

"Yuna—" Her name escapes as a whine, embarrassingly breathless.

"Did I say you could touch?" The edge in her voice is new—commanding in a way that makes heat pool low in your stomach.

She leans in close again and you flinch slightly, turning your head, caught off-balance by this sudden shift in dynamic. The predatory smile that spreads across her face tells you exactly what you need to know:

You might have started this game, but she's the one who's going to finish it.

Her grip tightens. "What? You getting nervous?"

And you are. Because you don’t know what she’s gonna do next. Because your hands are pinned down, because she’s taking her time, because she’s in complete control.

"Too late." Her voice is soft as her fingers catch your jaw before you can answer—firm, controlling. She lets it hang there, the weight of her words sinking in before she tilts your face up like she’s testing the weight of you in her hands, deciding whether she wants to break you apart or take her time savoring it.

She doesn’t kiss you yet. Just hovers. Close enough that you can feel her breath—warm, teasing, curling over your lips. Close enough that you can smell her—sweet, like strawberries, something feminine and bright, but dark underneath. Something heady. Something that lingers.

"What..." It slips out soft, almost breathless, escaping before you even realize. You're already leaning in—just slightly, just enough to chase the warmth of her mouth, the phantom touch of lips that still haven’t pressed against yours.

She grins. Pulls back just enough to make you ache for it. Watching, waiting. Letting the moment stretch, letting you need.

Then she finally kisses you—hungry, consuming, impossible to escape. Her lips move like she’s starving, like she’s been waiting for this, for you.

Her hands roam without hesitation, clawing at your shirt, nails scratching lightly before pressing harder, groping, gripping, taking. She grinds down, pressing herself closer, hot, desperate, soaked through.

Her tongue slides against yours, deep, messy, filthy. She tastes like strawberries and something warmer, something intoxicating. She bites your bottom lip, sucking it between her teeth before letting go, leaving you breathless, dizzy.

You manage to get half a word out—something cocky, something desperate—but she just presses her thumb over your lips, silencing you effortlessly. "Shh."

Her smirk is wicked, teasing. "Did I tell you to talk?"

One last kiss—hard, bruising—claiming—before she finally pulls back, pupils blown wide, breath heavy, hot against your lips. Still teasing, still in control.

Her eyes flicker, dark and sharp. She lets the silence stretch, lets you squirm just a little before tilting her head, smirking. And then, finally—

“Whip it out when I tell you to.”

She shifts back, slow and deliberate, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you. Legs crossed, arms folded, head tilted slightly—waiting.

“Shirt off.”

You hesitate. Her expression doesn’t change. Just one perfectly raised eyebrow.

You exhale, dragging the fabric over your head, the fabric peeling away from your skin, leaving a fleeting chill before the heat of the room settles over you. The shift makes your muscles tense briefly, instinctively flexing, your lean frame now fully exposed. She doesn’t say anything at first—just watches. Eyes dragging down, slower than usual. She’s seen you shirtless before—at the beach, when you work out together—but this feels... different. More deliberate. More assessing. Like she’s realizing something she hadn’t let herself think about before.

Her fingertips trail over your chest, nails scraping lightly as they move down. Her breathing shifts. Not a full pause, but a subtle inhale, like she’s registering something new.

She barely skims your waistband before stopping. Lips part, but no words come out. Just a beat of silence, her fingers still resting against your skin.

Then, just as quickly, she shakes it off. Moves like she never hesitated. “Pants too.”

You move to pull them down, and her hand shoots out, gripping the fabric at your waist. Stopping you. Holding you there.

She tilts her head. Smirks. “Hmm, one sec.”

She leans down, lips trailing from your chest to your abdomen, slow and deliberate, each press of her mouth sending heat curling low in your stomach. Lower. Lower. Until she’s hovering over your bulge, her breath warm against the fabric, her smirk returning as she glances up at you—waiting, teasing.

“Whip it out.”

You follow her command, fingers hooking into the waistband of your sweats and boxers at the same time. You push them down in one slow motion, the fabric dragging over your hips, your thighs, until they pool around your ankles. The cool air hits first, sending a shiver down your spine, your skin prickling in contrast to the heat of her stare. You kick them off, tossing them aside without a second thought.

Your cock, already stiff, springs free, swaying slightly before settling upright.

You expect some kind of reaction, a smirk, a comment, something. But she just sits there. Silent. Taking you in. Making you wait.

Then, the shift.

Her jaw tightens. Barely. Just enough to notice. Her fingers twitch, like she’s resisting the instinct to reach for you. A single exhale slips out—soft, sharp, involuntary.

“...Hah.”

Her thighs press together.

She blinks once, slow, expression still unreadable before she scoffs, voice flat. "You're joking."

It’s not a question. Not disbelief. It’s irritation. Like she’s pissed off that she’s this affected.

Then, before she even registers it, her hand is on you.

Her fingers wrap around the base, testing the weight. Thumb pressing into the ridge, sliding down, measuring. Her grip is firm, not teasing, not soft. Calculating. Then, she swipes her thumb over the tip, smearing the bead of precum across the sensitive skin.

The slick warmth sends a sharp jolt through you, your stomach clenching at the sudden stimulation. A shudder rolls down your spine, hips jerking just slightly—instinctual, involuntary. She hums at the reaction, amused, dragging her thumb back over the head, slower this time, watching you twitch beneath her touch.

"...You’ve been walking around with this the whole time?"

One slow stroke. Deliberate. Frustrated. Her breath hitches for half a second before she exhales through her nose, sharp and controlled. She’s working through something.

Then she moves.

Slow, deliberate, sinking down until her face is level with your cock. She spreads her knees wider, arching her back instinctively, ass lifting behind her as she dips her head down. The motion is fluid, effortless, like she’s done this a hundred times before—but not with you.

Her breath fans over the head, warm, teasing, and fuck, she’s gorgeous. But the way she’s looking at you? The way her lashes flutter as she drags her gaze from the base to the tip, the way her lips part slightly like she’s thinking about something she shouldn’t? Filthy.

Your fingers twitch against the sheets, aching to touch her. To run through her hair, trace over her cheek, press against the plush curve of her lips. But you don’t. You know better.

She tilts her head, lining it up. Comparing.

Her fingers tighten around the base, giving an experimental squeeze, jaw tensing slightly like she’s still processing the math of it all.

She hums, amused. Like she just confirmed something. Her eyes drag from your cock to your frame, mapping out the proportions. She’s smaller, you’re lean, cut where it matters. Her fingers tighten around your thigh—just slightly.

She exhales slow, shaking her head. Testing her own reaction.

“It’s almost annoying.”

A sharp squeeze at the base, like she’s making peace with it.

"You're just big enough to be fucking perfect."

She looks up at you, doesn’t blink. Holds your gaze like she’s daring you to move.

"Look at me."

You do. Try to. But the intensity of her gaze is too much, hungry, piercing, hot. Like she’s devouring every inch of you without even touching. Your body reacts before you can stop it. It’s overwhelming. Too much. You instinctively try to escape it, tilting your head back, but she doesn’t let you.

Her other hand catches your chin, dragging you back down to her. “I didn’t say you could do that.”

Your breath shudders. You swallow hard. She notices. Smirks.

Then—she stops.

She knows exactly what she’s about to do. And she wants you to watch.

Lifting her arms, she gathers up all her hair, twisting it tight, securing it with practiced ease. It’s a ritual, a performance, because she knows you’re looking. And she likes it.

The movement stretches her out, making you take in everything—the pull of her arms, the soft dip of her waist, the sleek curve of her long torso. Cinched. Compact. Fucking perfect. Her neck, her collarbones, the bare skin of her armpits exposed for a fleeting second, all of it framed just for you.

"Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking hot." Your voice slips past you.

She pauses, just for a second. A slow, knowing smirk on her lips as she glances at you.

"I know."

Your fingers twitch, instinct taking over—you reach down, wanting to stroke yourself to the sight of her.

Sharp slap.

Your hand jerks away, stinging. Her eyes flicker up, challenging. Smirking.

"I already told you—keep your hands to yourself."

Then—she leans back down, the same position, same arch. She dips her head low. Her lips purse, and before you can register it, a thick glob of warm saliva drips from her mouth, landing perfectly against the tip. She watches it spread, her thumb smearing it across the sensitive skin, coating you in wet heat before she strokes again—long, slow, deliberate.

She looks up, eyes locking onto yours, smirking like she already knows she's won. "Now sit back and let me enjoy myself."

Then—she sinks lower.

Her red hair spills over your stomach, strands brushing against your skin as she angles herself just right. The dim light catches on the messy waves, glowing warm, wild, untamed. She looks up at you through thick lashes, half-lidded, pupils blown wide, mouth parted just enough to tease you with the heat of her breath.

She’s so fucking close.

But this isn’t about you.

Her fingers wrap around the base, a slow, possessive squeeze, more for herself than for you. She exhales, lips barely parted, watching, taking you in. Her tongue swipes over her own bottom lip as if contemplating a meal she’s about to devour.

Then—she goes for it.

Heat. Wet. The first slide past her lips is tight, hot, an impossible contrast of softness and pressure. Her mouth stretches, lips plush and slick, sealing around you with a perfect, obscene suction. The wet heat of her tongue presses firm against the underside, dragging against every ridge, every pulsing inch, like she’s mapping you out with her mouth. The pressure of her cheeks hollowing pulls a groan straight from your chest before you can bite it back.

It's not careful, not teasing—hungry.

Her nails dig into your thigh as she sinks deeper, her own body reacting, thighs pressing together, chasing the heat curling in her own gut.

She doesn’t slow. Doesn’t drag it out like a game. She’s working herself up with every motion, letting herself indulge.

Another moan, this one softer, needier, and fuck, she’s enjoying this. Her tongue presses against the underside, massaging every inch she swallows. She pulls back, spit slick and glistening, gasping softly before diving back in, sucking harder, deeper.

She flicks her gaze up—not to check on you, but to see how much more she can take.

The wet pop when she pulls off is obscene, spit stretching between her lips and your cock before snapping apart. But she doesn’t wipe it away—you can tell, she likes the mess.

She tilts her head, gaze flicking up to yours, breathless, her lips curling into something between a smirk and frustration.

"Fuck, you taste so good." She mutters, voice wrecked, annoyed at how much she’s into this.

You start to smirk, breath hitching as you mutter, "Damn, you really know how to—"

But you don't get the chance.

She takes you deep mid-word, zero hesitation, lips stretching, throat tightening as she swallows you down in one sudden, slick motion. The shock rips a strangled sound from your throat, something between a gasp and a groan, because fuck, that was unexpected.

It's warm, so fucking tight, her throat flexing around you as she forces herself deeper, nose pressing flush against your groin. The wet grip of her throat clenching around the tip sends heat jolting up your spine, and when she pulls back—slow, torturous—a thick string of spit clings between her lips and your cock, stretching, breaking, dripping down onto her own chin. She watches you, gaze locked, eyes dark, sharp, daring you.

"You talk too much. And I haven't told you to open your mouth."

Her voice is wrecked, breathless, but smug as hell. She grips the base, firm, controlling, and slaps the head against her lips, wet and filthy, smearing spit and precum across them before taking you back in without hesitation—deeper, tighter, longer.

Your thighs tense. Your breath stutters. Toes curl, heat pooling low in your stomach, a wildfire spreading through your limbs. Your hands clench into the sheets because if you touch her now, you're done for.

She hums around you, low, vibrating, because she knows exactly what she’s doing to you.

Then she pulls back, spit-slick and glistening, pausing just long enough for you to feel the absence, to make you ache for it.

You think she’s about to go back in, your breath catches—but she lingers, gaze flicking up, owning the moment, letting the tension coil tighter. Then, slowly, she slaps your cock against her lips once more, her own breath shuddering like she’s just as caught up in this as you are. But this isn’t for you—it’s for her.

She dips lower, tongue dragging down your length, lips wrapping around one ball, sucking slow, wet, indulgent. She pauses for a second, breathing heavy, swallowing like she’s processing how good it tastes, how much she’s enjoying it.

Then she makes a sound—a frustrated groan, muffled, needy, like she’s annoyed by just how good you are in her mouth. Her hand never stops moving, stroking you in time with every pull of her mouth. Then the next, her tongue rolling over the sensitive skin, a soft moan escaping her, sending a jolt straight through your core.

She licks a line back up your shaft, slow, messy, like she’s savoring the weight of you on her tongue.

Your hands twitch against the sheets, fists clenched tight, every muscle in your body strung too fucking tight, resisting the urge to grab her. She notices. She loves it.

She pulls off completely, spit pooling down her chin, tilts her head up at you, lips parted, swollen, smirking.

"Hold my hair up."

Your breath shakes as you comply, fingers threading into her red waves, feeling the silkiness as they slide between your knuckles. You gather them slowly, watching the way they shine under the dim light, then bunch them up tight, pulling them together like a ponytail, holding firm.

She exhales slow, eyes flickering shut for half a second like she’s steeling herself. Then, she looks up at you—hungry, determined.

"Good. Now don’t let go."

The moment you tighten your grip, she moans, low and wrecked, like it’s fueling her. Like she’s been waiting for this.

She takes you back in.

In one go.

There’s no hesitation now. No more teasing. Just her fucking her mouth on you, using your cock like a toy for her own oral fixation.

She goes messy, abrupt, taking you deep with zero breaks, her hands working in sync—one stroking your shaft, the other massaging your balls, slick with spit, wet, filthy, relentless.

She gags. Chokes. Sputters saliva down her chin, but she doesn’t stop—she loves this.

Each time she sinks down, she stays longer, testing her limits, forcing herself deeper, moaning around you, the vibrations traveling straight through your spine. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

She pulls off with a wet, deep, gasp, sucking in air, but her hands never stop moving—stroking, twisting, milking you even as she gasps for breath.

“Shit,” she pants, her voice wrecked, her lips swollen, glistening with spit.

Her grip tightens, both hands now working together, slick and dripping, saliva coating every inch. She strokes faster, twisting her wrists, making a fucking mess of you, her mouth hovering just inches away, lips parted, panting.

Your whole body is tight, legs folding in slightly, toes curling, arms flexing involuntarily around the grip in her hair. The pleasure is too much, too fucking good, overwhelming, and if she wasn’t in complete control, you’d be thrusting up into her mouth, chasing the heat, the pressure. But she’s already forcing herself deep, hitting the back of her throat for you. No, for herself, taking what she wants.

Your grip on her hair loosens.

She notices.

She fucking notices.

Her lashes flutter up, eyes glazed, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed—completely cock-drunk—and she lets out the softest, filthiest little whine, like she doesn’t want you to stop her. Like she needs this. More of this.

Your fingers clench, regaining control, and you hold her still.

Her moan shatters through you.

It’s wrecked, vibrating along your length as she hollows her cheeks again and sucks. Hard.

And then—she goes feral.

She spits again, a thick glob dripping onto the head, smearing it in with her tongue before slapping your cock against her lips, her cheek, the curve of her jaw. Then she leans in, sucking and slurping her own saliva back up from your cock and groin, her tongue dragging slow and deliberate—only to sputter it back down again, wetter, filthier.

The slick warmth trickles lower, dripping under your balls, pooling there as her fingers smear it across your skin like she never wants to waste a single drop. She’s moaning the entire time, whimpering under her breath, her own body tensing, thighs pressing together, like she’s getting off on the sheer act of ruining herself.

Her tongue flicks out, lapping at the sensitive tip before flattening against it, rubbing it against her slick, spit-drenched muscle like she wants to taste every inch.

Her hand never stops moving—stroking, twisting, pumping, both hands working together now, slick and dripping, her fingers sliding with ease from how fucking wet everything is.

She’s not thinking anymore.

She’s just moving, sucking, licking, moaning, lost in it. She’s devouring you.

She sinks back down, deeper, until she’s gagging again, nose flush, throat spasming. She pulls off just to spit again, rubs her own mess into your shaft with both hands before swallowing you back down like she missed it.

She stays down longer each time.

Testing her limits. Pushing past them. Letting them break.

She pulls off with a wrecked gasp, drool dripping off her chin, her hands still stroking you frantically, like she can’t stop. Like she won’t stop.

“Fuck—” Her voice is raw, strained, needy. Her lips glisten, her cheeks are damp with spit, ruined.

Next, she slaps your cock against her tongue again, holding it there, eyes locked on yours, lips parted, panting.

Waiting.

Wanting.

She flicks her tongue once. Then again.

Your whole body tenses, a choked moan ripping out of your throat before you can swallow it down. She notices instantly, smirking, lips flushed and glistening.

"Gonna cum for me?" Her voice is low, wrecked, teasing. "Gonna fill up my mouth?"

She doesn’t give you a chance to answer. She’s back down, and you know it wont be long.

She sinks down, deeper than before—deeper than you thought she could go.

Her throat tightens, a hot, slick vice around you, lips stretched wide, nose flush against your skin. She stays there, like she’s proving something, forcing herself to take it all.

Your body shakes. A helpless, broken noise tears from your throat, your fingers twisting tighter in her hair. Your entire body is locked up, muscles taut, overwhelmed, unable to do anything but take what she’s giving you.

She swallows around you—tight, pulsing—milking you. The suction drives you insane, your mind foggy with nothing but her heat, her wetness, the way she’s owning you with her mouth. Your stomach clenches, your toes curl, thighs shaking. The heat in your gut is unbearable, climbing too fast, too much—

And then—she pulls off.

Not all the way. Just enough to drag her lips, tongue, teeth back up, slow, deliberate, before sinking back down just as deep.

She does it again.

Slow. Controlled. Absolutely ruining you.

Her hands are still working—one stroking your length, the other massaging your balls, her slick fingers pressing, squeezing, keeping you so fucking close but not letting you fall.

This time, she pulls off completely.

Your cock twitches in the open air, aching, drenched in her spit, glistening under the dim light. The sudden absence is unbearable, like she just took the world’s best heat away from you.

And then—she stops everything.

Her grip loosens. Her mouth lingers inches away.

Nothing.

You make a noise—desperate, strained. Your fingers clench, stomach tight, chest rising too fast.

She tilts her head, mocking, daring, teasing. Lips swollen, cheeks flushed.

"Say it."

Your breath stutters. She’s watching you unravel, watching you need.

You hesitate.

Her fingers go completely still.

The absence is unbearable. The loss of heat, friction, her—everything.

She waits. Just waits.

Eyes locked on you, lips parted, not moving until she hears what she wants.

“You wanna cum or not?”

Her voice is wrecked, low, filthy—and so fucking amused. Like she already knows.

Your jaw locks, but your body betrays you.

“Yuna, please—I'm so close” It rips out of you, barely a whisper, shaky, ruined.

Her eyes spark. She grins.

She giggles. It’s horny, evil, delighted.

And with that, she dives back in.

Messy. Unforgiving.

Her mouth works you over, fast, relentless, sucking hard like she’s dragging the orgasm out of you. Her cheeks hollow, tongue pressing firm, head bobbing fast, sloppy, wrecking you.

Her hands won’t stop moving—both of them now, stroking, twisting, pumping, slick and filthy, drenched in her spit.

She pulls off just to spit directly onto your tip, spreading it with her tongue, letting the mess drip down your shaft, pooling at your base.

She goes back down, faster, tongue swirling, throat flexing, each motion more desperate, more demanding. The sounds she’s making—filthy, obscene, completely unashamed.

You can’t stop it.

Your hips jerk, thighs flex, toes curl, fingers pull tight in her hair.

And then—your whole body locks up.

It hits like lightning, brutal, full-body, overwhelming.

You moan—loud, wrecked, shaking.

She pulls off at the last second, her tongue stretched out, eyes locked on you, stroking you fast as you cum hard all over her tongue and inside her mouth.

Spurts of thick white streak across her tongue, her lips, pooling where she wants it.

She stays there, mouth open, holding it, letting you see it.

Then—she closes her mouth and swallows.

A loud, filthy gulp.

Like she was made for this.

She stays between your legs a moment longer, tongue flicking slow, deliberate, dragging over every inch of sensitive skin as she cleans you up, savoring it. Her lips press one last time to the tip, a lazy, lingering kiss, before she finally—finally—pulls away, her breath still hot and damp against your stomach.

She doesn’t hurry.

She stretches, rolling her shoulders like she just wrapped up a workout, sighing like she’s completely satisfied, her fingers pressing briefly into your thighs as she pushes herself up. She moves like she owns the space, like she just conquered something.

Without another word, she crawls up towards you. One hand grabs your chin, tilting your face up, making sure you’re looking at her.

She’s still wrecked, ruined—her lips glossy, chin damp, pupils dark and dripping with smug satisfaction.

"You're never taking those glasses off again."

Her other hand moves, fingers slipping up to the bridge of your glasses, pushing them back into place with the laziest, most condescending adjustment.

Like she just did fucking community service.

You’re still panting, your limbs heavy, your chest still rising too fast. And yet—a realization grips you.

You just unleashed something.

Something feral. Something dangerous.

She grins, tilting her head like she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

And then—she giggles.

That same horny, delighted, evil little giggle from before.

Like she’s already thinking about the next time she ruins you.

End.

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

AN: Finally got through this one and can check it off. I'm currently starting a new piece, one of my longer ones so it might be a while until its posted. Ill try my best to fill the next few days with more shorter moments like this one, but I really wanna focus on my longer fics with more depth. As always, room for part 2 with this.

#male reader #kpop smut #cloudtrnsprncy #cloudtsmut #itzy yuna #shin yuna #shin yuna smut #shin yuna x male reader #yuna x male reader

991 notes · View notes

byuntrash101 · 1 year ago

Text

big bad wolf

f!reader x bangchan ft. stray kids smut | mdni 2.6k maybe you bit off more than you could chew when you hyped up your game to the campus’ infamous big dick owner nsfw tags under the cut

#5: huge dick + size kink (twt p☆rnlink) college!au, toxic ex bf!minho, frat boy!bangchan, alcohol consumption, one night stand, explicit consent asked and given, chan is really a tease, gentle dom!chan, daddy kink (i mean we're talking about chan here) , size kink (reader is smaller than chan), huge monster cock!bangchan, size training, protected sex (good job), oral (f), multiple orgasms, some humor at the end ♡

a/n : i was like this 🥴🥴🥴 writing this because ughhh im in love with this bangchan! wanna see the other entries for the event? check out the link <3

3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation

“I mean being single is great and all” you said while downing the rest of the ungodly cocktail your best friend mixed for you earlier at the party. Before she left with Jisung. “But like I miss the toxic sex, ya know?” Christopher nodded his head while he took the empty cup from your hand to set it at the table beside the both of you on the couch.

The party was over so to speak. Everyone had left or was just passed out on random surfaces all over the frat. ΝΣΒ (nu sigma beta) was the frat that organized the best parties on campus. Well the second best parties but ΩΔΦ (omega delta phi) had Minho going to their parties and well you were finally over him that wasn't to run into him at a random party to drink and hook up with him again. You were determined to break free of the destructive cycle. That’s how you came to attend the parties here and met Christopher and his frat bros Changbin and Jisung. These three were quite the trio. Well not right now because Jisung was probably fucking your best friend somewhere and Changbin was passed out over the keg. Only Christopher remained somewhat (if not entirely) sober. He didn’t like alcohol that much, he claimed.

“Yeah I get you dude. Toxic sex is the best…” Christopher sighed. “But why though?”

“I don’t know man!” you said with a pout. “Also my ex was like… packing” the alcohol in your system was making it harder to perceive the fine line between sharing past experiences and simply oversharing. But Christopher wasn’t phased by it at all. On the contrary he was… intrigued.

“Really?” He questioned.

“Bro, he was real big. Like real big.” you said, closing your eyes trying to recall the extraordinary appendix Minho was blessed with. “The biggest I’ve ever seen really. I just miss that…” you said, finally opening your eyes again, purposefully avoiding thinking about your ex’s devil dick for too long before you drunkenly run to the other side of campus and to him again. When you open your eyes you see Christopher looking at you with an indecipherable expression.

“Well yeah. I miss someone that’s used to dealing with guys that are on the bigger end of the spectrum” Christopher was speaking very carefully, he was very clearly trying to hint at something but at the same time he didn’t want to come off as pressing or bragging.

You raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” you asked as neutral as you could be, but still picking up on Christopher’s hint.

“Well you know. Girls always say it’s what they want. But like when I pull it out they either just run away or I mean they pull through but I can tell they’re not enjoying it. So I usually cut things short.”

It’s true you heard one or two rumors about Christopher also being on the bigger end but you never paid attention to them. Now, they were suddenly running back to you.

“I just wanna be with a girl that's kinky and that you know… just enjoys herself with me”

Suddenly you were looking at him differently. You looked at his big biceps resting crossed over his chest and the sleeveless loose fitted white top. He was wearing a cap that covered his soft brown curls but they were still peaking at the back of his head and around his reddened ears.

All of a sudden you were painfully conscious of Chris’ sheer size. Even though he was simply sitting next to you his large sturdy shoulders occupied the space on the couch. You found your eyes wandering to his lower half where his muscular thighs generously filled the black basketball shorts. And eventually your gaze wandered to his groin where you did notice a particularly remarkable bulge.

“You know, bro?” Chris took off the cap briefly, combing his hair with one large hand before flipping it backwards and patting it back on. He looked a little bit frustrated.

“Yeah I get it.”

Silence settled.

“Looks like we could like… help each other… maybe” you started carefully. That was uncharted territories, you didn’t know how Chris was going to react but you were a little intoxicated and that made you forget about the consequences or more like postpone thinking about them. You’ll do that tomorrow.

A cocky smirk spread on Chris’ face. An expression you had yet to witness. Usually he was all about wholesome smiles and cute laughs. But this one, this expression stirred excitement and thrill within you.

“Wanna see the big bad wolf?” Chan said right before sending you a cheeky wink that left you speechless. Before he started laughing out loud and lightly pushed you on the arm. “Just messing with you” Chris said, returning to the sunny smile.

“Why are you all cocky for anyway?” you outbid. “I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen” you said, shrugging, eyes a little defiant. And Chris’ smirked returned to his handsome face just as quick. He felt a tingle in his lower half. He enjoyed that attitude you had right now. Wouldn’t it be fun to make you swallow those words? Amongst other things…

“Think you can handle it, babygirl?” Chan said, extending his massive arm behind your head on the couch and leaning on to you, making you feel even smaller. You took a whiff of his cologne, the alluring aromas or vanilla, cedar and citrus casting a spell on you.

“Yeah of course I can” you said, steady voice oozing all the confidence in the world. Making Chris chuckle again.

***

Well maybe you couldn’t…

That is what you thought when Christopher dragged you to his room as the early rays of the dawning sun were licking the blinds.

“Having second thoughts, babygirl?” Christopher said, smiling down at you while you looked up at him and sat on his bed. The loose fitting top was all he had left on him. Even the cap was now littering the ground, letting the soft brown curls loose. and you silently thanked the heavens for this. Maybe if he would have been completely nude you would have died right there.

He was absolutely breathtaking: large shoulders, thick arms and veiny forearms going down to his big hand holding the absolute monster that usually peacefully rested between his sturdy thighs. But right now it was awakened, and awaiting.

The thing was not only incredibly massive but also unbelievably long. Thick veins ornamented the length of it from the base to the red and dripping tip.

“So am I bigger than your ex?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Um, yeah a little bit I think”

Lie. Big fat lie.

Christopher knew that. He knew that very well but he appreciated that you kept up with that act. He found that amusing.

“Perfect! Let’s get started then”

“What?” you said as he wrapped his warm hands around both your wrists, gently pushing you down on the mattress until you laid there with only your feet hanging off the bed. He put your wrists at each side of your face, laying his weight over you. He was heavy, but it was comforting, reassuring. You felt small but also safe under him. The heat from his body ignited a fire within you.

“Don’t worry babygirl” Chris whispered leaning into your ear. You felt his hot breath fanning your burning cheek. “Daddy will get you nice and ready for him.” You felt yourself flutter at the name. You were definitely responding to it.

Christopher licked big swipe on your ear making your breath itch in your throat and you bit your lip to repress a moan. Fortunately you didn’t have to think about it too much because Chris kissed you instantly, one of his hands leaving your wrist to wrap around your throat, his thumb pulling on your chin to open your mouth. You didn’t fight back, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like energy drinks and tropical fruit juice. Now you knew for sure he was completely sober. But Chris, on the other hand, wasn't so sure anymore, because he sure felt drunk right now. Drunk in you, in this kiss. He threw himself into you, moaning in your mouth as you arched your back and he rolled his hips into you, pressing his hard cock onto your hip.

Before you could think too much about it Chris stripped you of your clothes, one article after the other until you found yourself completely exposed to him. Chris got up and took a step back to admire your body under the rays of the sun piercing through the blinds. You were gorgeous, stunning and he couldn’t wait to finally be inside you.

He then pulled on your hips to bring you on the edge of the bed where he kneeled on the ground and gently parted your legs.

“Fuckk” he cursed under his breath when he saw your cute little pussy already glistening with need and lightly twitching. He only wanted one thing: to taste you. So he did.

He first laid a gentle kiss on your clit which made you jolt up and he smirked against you in satisfaction.

“Awww baby. Are you always this sensitive or is it daddy doing that to you?” He licked a large stripe from your entrance to your clit, staying there for a second giving more attention to the sensitive bud.

“F-fuckkk. No it’s y-you” you breathed in, arching your back and fisting the sheets beneath you. “Daddy is doing this to m-me”

Christopher felt his heavy length jump just as the mention of the word in your mouth, it sounded so fucking good, so fucking sexy. It made him want to please you, be good for you.

He licked and swirled his tongue on your swollen bud earning more moans and pants from you. Until your cunt was throbbing against his lips and your heart was beating in your ears.

“Im… Fuck… gonna c-cum” you said lifting your face to see Christopher looking up at you from between your thighs.

“Go ahead baby. Cum for daddy”

You came undone at the end of his tongue, your walls fluttering around nothing, thick slick gushing out of you and covering Chris’ face.

“God fuck.. don’t- s-stop” you begged, tensing up your legs and your orgasm ripped through you. Chris didn't stop there, instead he gradually slowed down to help you down your high at your own rhythm.

“Fuckkk... Please daddy I need you inside me” you said looking at him. And he got back on his feet again. With disconcerting ease he grabbed you at the hips and flipped you on your stomach and lifted you so you were on all fours.

He reached for his night stand where he took out of one of the drawers a condom and tore the wrapper hastily.

“Was hoping you’d say that babygirl”

As soon as the condom was on he brought his tip to your soaked and fluttering little hole. You were feeling desperately empty and you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of Chris’ big fat cock. You wiggled your hips to urge him to fill you up.

“Are you ready baby?” he asked, making sure one last time you were still on board.

“Yess daddy.. Yes please. Don't make me beg” You said, despair dripping from your lips. And Christopher resisted the urge to do just that. Maybe another time.

He started to push his huge cock inside you and you braced yourself feeling your walls expand beyond belief to accommodate the thick and hard length. Very slowly Chris continued to progress inside you. You gritted your teeth, fisting the sheet even harder and exhaling a faint complaint.

“It’s okay baby. You can do it. Big breaths, ok?” Chris encouraged you before continuing.

Thanks to Chris’ prepping, the pain was bearable. Now you didn't even have a single shadow of a doubt left. Chris was indeed bigger than Minho.

Soon enough he managed to push the whole monstrous thing inside you.

“There you go baby” Chris said gently stroking your back. “That’s my good girl. Say when daddy can move okay, darling?” he laid a soft kiss to the crown of your back, his voice appeared to be somewhat strained. Your tightness was also hard to handle on his part.

“Ok” you huffed quietly.

You took a couple of seconds to get used to him but eventually the pain disappeared.

“You… can move”

Slowly Chris started to pull out only to push right back in when his tip was just barely hinging in.

“Oh- fuckfuckfuck” you panted.

“You’re doing so good, baby. So good for daddy” Chris said, pulling out once again.

He repeated the process until he felt you relax around him and the sharp breaths and sighs turned into moans and whines.

“Fuckk so… so fucking big” you said arching your back while Chirs’ big hands wrapped around your waist to pull you back on his cock everytime he was pushing in.

“Fuck your little cunt is so wet and tight for me baby”

“Hmmm daddy” you whined. “Please faster”

“Fuck so fucking naughty” he said as started to fuck you faster, deeper, dragging your precious nectar on his cock and making you moan louder.

“Fuck I won’t last long baby”

“Pleasepleaseplease daddy I'm almost there”

Chris circled your hip and brought two fingers to rub circles on your clit, you threw your head back, completely letting go of the last bit of sanity you had left. Chris felt you throbbing around his cock.

“Fuck daddy…I'm cumminggg”

“That's it cum for daddy” Chris said, his voice was strained as he felt you flutter around him, urging him to let got. Spurts of hot cum rushed into the condom as he hips became erratic, as continuously fucked into you until you were both satifed and out of breath.

You collapsed and he rolled next to you, taking the condom off and tying it before rushing to the bathroom and returning with a warm towel and handing it to you.

“Fuck that was… amazing” he told you with a bright smile that you knew.

“So you like being called daddy? Now I understand why you’re into kinky girls.” you said, raising an eyebrow, teasingly.

“Oh– Hm.. well. Yeah… sorry it was like in the heat of the moment” he scratched the side of his face before ruffling his brown curls.

“Oh don't worry about it. I liked it”

“We should like.. do that again sometimes… I mean if you're down”

It’s funny how he started all cocky and confident and now he was the one stumbling on his words and being flustered. You found that cute.

“Yeah we should”

“CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???” You heard Jisung’s loud voice coming from the hall. “WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR PRACTICE” He fumbled with the door handle. “WHY IS YOUR DOOR CLOSED?”

“Get the fuck out Jisung. I’m busy” Chris said and you giggled.

“Bro, I think he’s fucking someone in there” Jisung said, this time to someone else.

“OI, MATE WHO’S IN THERE WITH YOU?? IS IT Y/N??” Felix’ unmistakably low voice asked.

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT“ Chris shouted.

“Fuck… I think you made him mad.” Felix said.

“Bro how the fuck is it me? You the one who insisted” You heard the two voices getting further.

“Don’t pay attention to them” Chris said and you both laughed and went back to bed, to get a well deserved couple of hours of sleep before a day full of college classes.

3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation

a/n: thanks for reading babe if you enjoyed reblig or leave a comment because delulu is the solulu <3

#bangchan smut #bangchan #christopher bang #skz smut #skz #stray kids #stray kids smut #bangchan x reader #bangchan stray kids #bangchan x you #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x female reader #kpop smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #bangchan hard thoughts #bangchan hard hours

3K notes · View notes

tgcg · 11 months ago

Text

tell your loved ones

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 12:01 --

TG: hey im on the john

JOHN: hey, dave is taking a dump.

TG: taking a shit just so were clear

JADE: jeez!!!!!!! even when im not online i have to hear about it

TG: i know you care so youre first to know

JOHN: i'm just giving you a heads up for the bajillion messages you will definitely have about this when you get home.

EB: god, thank you. that is awesome. dave fans everywhere are gonna go NUTS for this truth nugget.

EB: hey, i am at the store with jade!

TG: tell her the news

EB: i did as soon as you first pinged me, don't worry.

TG: hell yeah see you just fucking get it

JADE: well tell him i say congrats!

EB: she says congrats.

EB: also that you left your "yeah! woo!" machine at her place.

EB: and that you are gross and smell like a dog took a dump on a fart even when you aren't crapping during our conversations.

TG: goddamn

EB: jk that last bit was me heheh. but she nodded!

EB: so anyways, a yeah woo machine?

EB: what the hell even IS that?

JADE: its more or less a machine that yeahs and woos

TG: its basically a machine that yeahs and woos

EB: ok, yeah, that is pretty much exactly what jade said too. apparently this is supposed to be obvious.

JADE: its pretty self explanatory!

TG: pretty self explanatory stuff

TG: anyways im gonna tell karkat this time i think im ready for that

EB: oh shit (LOL), that's a pretty big deal, right? good luck dude.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 12:03 --

TG: ok karkat can i be unbelievably candid with you is dj crabapple ready for this

TG: this is a really big deal for me but like no pressure

CG: SHIT, IS EVERYTHING OK?

CG: DO I NEED TO COME OVER THERE.

TG: no no its good i just really need to confess something

CG: WHATEVER IT IS, TELL ME. I'M HERE.

TG: alright

TG: deep breath strider

TG: im dropping mad logs like bars in the ablution block vantas

TG: shit is on fire

TG: downright heretical like a shat outta hell

TG: and since im feeling penitent i figure our pesterlogs are pretty much akin to a confessional booth right

CG:

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 12:04 --

TT: Hey Dave.

TT: Are you, by any chance, taking a shit right now?

TG: damn word spreads fast on the information superhighway

TT: Yes, I have had the news forwarded to me via this bountiful virtual dimension of knowledge and culture we call the World Wide Web by a fellow enthusiast, one ectoBiologist.

TT: Frankly I'm heartbroken you didn't come to me about it first.

TT: Please, divulge to your loving sister the nature of your bowel movements, in exhaustive detail. Highlights in a notarized list, an overall ranking grade of your experience, whether you would recommend it to your friends, et cetera. These would be among my most pertinent avenues of inquiry.

TG: you were next on the mailing list rose im already on it

TG: boutta weave a verbal tapestry no holds barred just for you about my rambunctious foray down in brown town

TG: stay tubed

TT: Thank god. I don't know what I would do if I couldn't peruse your commodal follies like the morning gazette.

TG: dont act like this has educational value rose

TG: we all know my daily bullshit has got a laugh track

TG: like damn what kind of gazettes are you getting

TT: The best kind, Dave. Only the best kind.

TG: thanks for the vote of confidence

TG: wait gimme a sec karkat pinged

TT: Of course. I understand it's quite a big deal for you.

CG: OK.

CG: SINCE THIS APPARENTLY SKIRTS THE FRESHEST BUDS OF OUR BRO-DOM'S BURGEONING FROND NUB, I *ALSO* HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SHARE.

CG: I HOPE YOUR REFLECTIVE ABLUTION VAULT IS STOCKED WITH FUCKING RUMBLESPHERE TRANQUILIZERS, BECAUSE THIS EXCHANGE IS ABOUT TO GET SHITHIVE MAGGOTS.

CG: LISTEN CAREFULLY.

TG: whats up

CG: I AM ALSO ON THE LOAD GAPER RIGHT NOW.

TG: oh shiiit

CG: DON'T UNCLENCH YOUR EXPLOSIVE FUCKING SEED FLAP JUST YET, BECAUSE THERE'S *MORE*!

CG: I AM *ALSO* TAKING A CRAP.

TG: oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

CG: OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT

#dave strider #karkat vantas #davekat #homestuck #john egbert #rose lalonde #jade harley #june egbert #j egbert #comix #tell your loved ones #idm if this isnt rly well written i just did it 2 make myself giggle

2K notes · View notes

call-me-strega · 8 months ago

Text

Dc x Dp Prompt #22: the Respectful Catcall Guy

Have y’all seen the videos of the respectful catcall guy? The one who says stuff like “Hey girl! You look like you file your taxes in a timely manner!”, “Hey Dawg! Your eyebrows look like they are on point bro!”, or “Yo! You look like you know how to fold a fitted sheet!”. So instead of an unpleasant experience with harassment you get a nice complement? Y’all know those guys?

So that but it’s Danny and Tucker (Sam’s camera women) on their summer road trip to visit colleges. No on is safe from compliments, not civilians, not super heroes/vigilantes, not even rouges are safe.

Some of these interactions would include:

“Damn Dude! You look like you contribute equally to household responsibilities!” (To Barry out with Iris and his kids, he laughs proudly and Iris says “Yeah he does!”)

“ Hey Man! You look like you always pull up for you friends!” (To Wally picking up a drunk Dick Grayson, Donna Troy, and Roy Harper after an undercover Titan’s mission gone wrong. He smiles awkwardly while his friends laugh)

“Dang Bro! You look like you’re taking your meds regularly!” (Trickster/James Jesse tv show version, he says “I am!” not questioning how they would know he takes meds)

“Damn ma’am! You look like you love every dog unconditionally!” (To Wonder Woman after she stopped to pet a dog)

“Dang girl! You look like you could bench press your friends! I bet you give great hugs!” (To Cassie Sandsmark at a Core Four hang out. She proudly shows off her guns and Bart yells back that she does give great hugs)

“Wow Girl! You look like you know how to use healthy communication and boundaries in your relationships!” (To Black Canary, she smirks proudly)

“Damn man! You look like drink your respect women juice at breakfast, lunch AND dinner!” (To a Clark Kent treating Lois to lunch)

“ Wow man! You look like you make an effort to be and active and present part of your daughter’s life! (To Deadshot/Floyd Lawton and his daughter Zoe out for dinner)

“ Dang girl! You look you know how to find joy and whimsy in life!”(To Raven, she smiled and appreciated it, but did double take at the amount of extradimensional death magic on these kids which check with them about later)

“Dang sir! You look like you know how to properly season your cooking!” (To Alfred Pennyworth out on a grocery run)

“Damn miss, you look like you make environmentally conscious lifestyle choices!” (this is actually Sam to Poison Ivy, she follows it up with “I’m a big fan of your work”)

“ Damn boy, you seem like you’re super passionate about what you believe in and deeply care about the people you love!” (To a budding, upstart crime lord Red Hood who is shook by positive feelings at this time in his life. They track him down and explain liminality and help him deal with emotions before he does smth too drastic like decapitating ppl *cough cough* But he still becomes a Crime Lord to mess with his family and still have a dramatic reveal)

#dc x dp #long post #polite catcalling #no one is safe from their positivity #The gang’s on a summer road trip to look at colleges #they did it once and decided to keep it going #They’re definitely going to get some Internet notoriety at some point #Val would have come but she’s decided to go to college closer to home and is looking after Amity while Danny’s gone #The caped community is very amused by them #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #dc heroes and villains #Strega’s dc x dp prompt

883 notes · View notes

killerpancakeburger · 7 months ago

Text

Jealousy headcanons

🧼 & 💀

I also have scenarios partially based on those hcs incoming ☆

Tags: Price'sAssistant!Reader, fluff, protectiveness, possessiveness (but wholesome).

SOAP:

Was actually working on asking you out. Needs it to be perfect. Getting maniac about it.

Outraged when another guy makes a move first. Especially one that mediocre. Although if he was honest, he doesn't think a single dude on base is worthy of you. Yes even himself

So petty. Will hold a grudge forever. You'll have all but forgotten about it, but not him. Oh no. He mentally branded his rival for life. Dude is in his sights. He won't do anything that would put the other's life at risk, but make his life suck? Easy peasy. Will back down when the other back down. ...For now.

Will switch your jacket with his. Yes it's childish, so what? Only when Gaz mentions that if you two are dating in secret, you’re not being very discreet, and once you’re done choking on your drink, you learn that there's MACTAVISH written in big bold letters on your back. (Didnt notice cos you have the same type of jacket as em in the same size since they didnt have one in your own)

Very vocal and agitated about his distaste and resentment. Rants with hand gestures, forever if you don't stop him. Accent and slang getting more and more scottish as he goes.

“Ain't you all sunshines and rainbows today!” you tease him, a bit overwhelmed by his fervor, and by how personally he's taking this. You assume it's a TF141 thing - they've always been protective of you since you're the civilian of the team and the least experimented, even acting as buffer between you and other soldiers. You’re their assistant, their teammate, and no one else's.

Unbeknown to you, your wannabe suitor had boasted about the move he made on you to other soldiers. To make himself look good, and to get some kind of reassurance. The minute Soap heard mention of your name, he couldn’t help but join the group to listen in.

Galvanized by the feedbacks of his mates, the guy gets bolder in his remarks. Johnny will never report to you what he heard - it would only hurt you. When he calls out to the man, the private still doesn't realize his mistake. He replies to the sergeant with enthusiasm, thinking he's here to join the locker talk.

To think that guy dared to think Soap was on his side - would sympathize -, simply because of some implicit bro code. He was boiling until now, but that was what made him snap.

Before he could even think about it, he already had knocked the private on his ass with one punch. The altercation was broken up before he could do more.

He's itching for a fight, but he'll settle for a punching bag. Unless the guy intimidated you, or made you uncomfortable in any way. Then he's already leaving the room after you’re done telling him about it, and if you stop him, he tries to convince you it's for the best. Letting him deal his own brand of justice. It's kind of his specialty, after all.

Either you give in, and you two talk again afterwards, or you resist, despite his arguments turning into supplications. In both cases you end up asking the one burning question: "Why does this bother you so much?"

He suddenly looks like a child caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar. Avoiding your gaze. Grumbling to himself. You have to insist for him to make his speech audible again. Replies with another question. "Why wouldn’t it?"

You sigh, cross your arms. "You know what I mean. I never saw you so fired up over something that wasn’t work-related." You eventually manage to extract a confession from him.

"He... he's not your type." More grumbling. You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, before a smirk stretches your lips. "Oh? And what is my type, Sergeant?"

He looks almost pained for a second, and you feel guilty, even though you don't know what for. Then his expression changes, to one that reminds you of a condemned man in front of the gallows - a blend of resignation and resolve. He wraps his arms around you and hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Don't tease me, Bonnie." Before you can comfort him, moved but still confused, he adds: "Or I won't be able to hold back anymore."

You try to remove from his spot, but his embrace prevents you from backing down and his head doesn't budge. "Johnny... look at me. Tell me what's wrong. Let me help. Please?"

He finally meets your gaze, forehead almost touching yours. He looks more vulnerable than you've ever seen. "Go out with me?" Before you can answer, he adds: "I'll be so, so good to ye, swear it. Hell, ye've got me wrapped 'round yer finger already."

GHOST:

In denial about his feelings for you. Doesn't stop him from feeling super possessive though.

Two words: starring problem. Whether it's menacingly at the other guy, or at you, to make his disapproval known, just in case the absurd idea to accept his advances happened to cross your mind.

You're way too good for that bloke who doesn't even have the balls to face you himself (he left a note on your desk). Who the bloody hell does he think he is?

If the guy happened to scare you or coerce you in any way, he's done for. Gone. You'll never know what Ghost did, but you never saw the dude again. And when you ask around, no one seems to understand who you’re refering to...

If he's not starring at you from afar, he's with you, magically appearing at random times of the day.

When you ask him for explainations about his behaviour, he grumbles that he knows about the private's confession, and how that bloody wanker is obviously beneath you, and that you could find so much better.

You never planned to accept the other guy's advances anyway, but you’re terribly intrigued by Ghost's unusual behavior. He brags about his own skill here and there, but doesn't waste time ranting about others' lack thereof.

"I don't know about 'much better'", you argue, only half-serious. The men who've approached you can be counted on the fingers of one hand, and none of them was... adequate. But you don't really want to talk about it with your tall and dark lieutenant, a man that manages to intimate you as much as he charms you.

The sentence barely left your lips that the creaking of his chair makes you look up, and you can read something akin to "you can’t be serious" in his eyes before he stops in front of your desk. "Simon?" you call out, confused, but instead of answering, he cradles your face with one hand, the other lifting his mask halfway.

"Bite me if you don't want this" is the only warning you get before his mouth meets yours. You keep your teeth to yourself. He overwhelms you completely with just one kiss. When he releases you, you need a moment to pull yourself together.

"How's that for much better?"

879 notes · View notes

yutasbellybuttonpiercing · 2 years ago

Text

slowly, i'm going down

access full masterlist here!

pairing: song mingi x reader (no pronouns mentioned, reader has female anatomy)

au/genre: college!au, tutor!reader, mingi does not give a shit about studying, smut

word count: 4816 words

warnings: voice kink (AHHHHH), oral and fingering (reader receiving), reader is a little mean, kitchen sex, anime references, cringe, a joke about adhd, dirty talk... um..., oh right Mingi has a big dick (wbk), everyone's a little silly, unprotected sex (boo ‼️👎🏻), premature ejaculation almost, creampie, cum eating... (not reader...), i think that's it. NOT PROOF READ YET!!

synopsis: mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice

mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.

a/n: i was almost ready when i saw this tiktok and it completely blocked my mind because it's SO FUNNY, but at the same time, it's men being dudes, dudes being bros, and that kind of made it hard for me to continue. i apologize for the 24h delay 😞

taglist: @byuntrash101 @goquokka @ashwoodforest @choisansnotsolegalwife

Mingi is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Or anything that doesn't move and feed his brain with bright colors and his ears with noises, really. He prefers to vibe, and studying is definitely not the vibe. Sadly, studying is a part of his life as a university student. Yes, he chose this path for himself and yes, he was aware that it would involve studying. Still, now that it's really happening and is not just an obstacle to overcome in the far, far future, Mingi kind of wishes he'd chosen something else to do with his life. It's just exhausting, why would he waste the precious time he has left on planet earth on something that doesn't get the serotonin floating? He's pretty sure he has some undiagnosed ADHD simmering up there, but who is he to judge that? He's certainly not studying to become a doctor or whatever.

Anyway, given the fact that Mingi doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. He's barely gotten his way through school, but uni is a different level. Hence, he needs someone to 1) teach him how to study and 2) make him study, or rather: have a judging eye on him while he is supposed to study, so the fear of being called out on it may light a fire under his ass and force him to bury his nose between the stinky pages of an old library book (on that note: he also needed someone to show him how to check out books from the library).

And that's why you are here, every Thursday afternoon, sitting at the sad excuse of a kitchen counter slash dining table in Mingi's scandalously expensive apartment given its size, growling next to him every time you catch him analyzing the bumps on his wallpapers instead of the letters on the pages.

Mingi generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. You are polite, but you have a way of looking at him that makes him feel like he's getting mansplained by your eyes. Your taunting gaze on him makes him feel small, and he doesn't like that at all. It makes him feel like all these years of drinking milk to make him stand at the 1.84m he is at today were in vain. You always have that one expression on your face, and maybe that's just Mingi's subconsciousness telling him to STUDY HARD FOR GOD'S SAKE, but in the way your eyebrows would scrunch together just the tiniest bit, he reads: God, he is fucking stupid.

He doesn't know which (since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class) chemical in his brain suffers an allergic reaction every time you look at him like that, but there has to be one. There is nothing that Mingi hates more than being called stupid. Well, except for studying, maybe.

Call him lazy, call him a scalawag, call him witty for being able to get through all of school without reading a single one of the set books if you must, but do not call him stupid.

The only problem is that you haven't, well, called him stupid per se. It's just how Mingi interprets your stares. Also, he desperately needs you because he doubts there will be many other contestants that are okay with getting paid as little as you are (which is all Mingi has left by the end of a month full of Pokémon trading cards). So Mingi just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.

A loud ringing wakes Mingi from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break!

Disoriented, Mingi raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. It rings again. Slowly, Mingi recognizes the shrill sound as his door bell. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the mirror tells him that his hair is an absolute mess (which is really a crowning achievement given his buzz cut length) and he has imprint marks from his blanket all over his right cheek, but his sleepy mind doesn't even take it in. Mingi furrows his brows and shakes his head. Who would dare to disturb his peaceful slumber at this ungodly hour (4pm)?

The answer, of course, stands right in front of his door. With your arms crossed and the tip of your shoe drumming a dent into Mingi's "come in if you're a silly baka"-door mat, you raise an unimpressed brow at the sleepy shell of Mingi that blinks one eye after the other.

A few seconds pass until Mingi finally realizes who you are, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Immediately after, he furrows his brows once again, his body slumping forward a bit because: why on God's green earth are you here? Then, it hits him like a truck, the aftermath of the collision blowing the remaining sleep out of his eyes: it's Thursday afternoon!

"Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside to let you enter.

"It's fine, it's only freezing cold outside," you stare at him before stepping in, shudder as you kick your shoes off, slip into Mingi's guest slippers and hurry inside. Mingi's brain does not register the sarcasm drenching your words.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" You ask as Mingi finally manages to follow you into the kitchen. You sit, take out a few sheets of paper from your backpack, then look over questioningly as Mingi has not even moved a millimeter, but instead started yawning like his life depends on it. Your eyes drift down his body. "Or maybe after you've put on some pants?"

Mingi freezes, looks down to confirm that, indeed, he's not wearing pants, but Naruto boxer shorts, then covers his crotch with his hands and buzzes off into his room.

Minutes later, Mingi reenters the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips that, yes, he checked twice if he's wearing them the right way around. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Of course, you'd notice.

"Mingi, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Mingi has not seen. Ever.

"I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.

"Yeah, you are? Why?" Mingi's tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.

"I studied during my lunch break," Mingi informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second.

Hold on. Mingi's mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. He suddenly notices the way you started creating skin-on-skin contact with him, the way you want to be closer to him, eyeing him even more than you ever did before. Just... why? Is it because you saw him in his Anime panties?

A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your pencil against the book to remind him of the reason why you're actually here. Mingi groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.

"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice?

"I'm really glad you're tutoring me, you know?" He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.

"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Mingi decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you with the sultry rasp his vocal cords are gifted with.

"Mingi, focus-"

"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Mingi reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, high pitched, eyebrows scrunched as to why the hell he has to do this before doing that only to do whatever next when it wasn't like this for the other exercise he had to do minutes prior. He is not stupid (!), he does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.

"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Mingi inhales sharply. Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on the counter without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.

Yes, Mingi is super patient, that's just what comes with the entire vibe-personality package, so he does not dump your cute sorry ass on his baka-door mat, but simply closes his pen, lays it on the table and looks at you. A fabulous idea plops into his mind.

"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today."

"A-are you?" You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Mingi looks at you without moving his head. "Why?"

"Well, just stuff, you know?" Mingi enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel. "There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.

Unmistakably, your hand holding your own pen in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the poor objects until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud as if you'd just ran the entire way from Mingi's place to the next convenience store (seriously, why the fuck is he paying so much for this godforsaken apartment?). And - Mingi's favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together.

Oh, how Mingi loves himself a good reaction like this.

"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"

"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Mingi confirms with a slight smirk. He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Mingi lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Mingi so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".

"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should head home then?"

Mingi smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His hands automatically reach out to play with his pen, his long, slender fingers toying with the object, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements. "Already?"

"Mhm." You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Mingi listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching.

As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.

"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing. "What?"

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.

Mingi smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness. "Oh, I know."

You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Mingi loves this game.

That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.

"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you. Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Song Mingi stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Mingi can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him.

Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all. Oh, how the gears are turning behind your forehead as you're trying to figure out what's going on, and what's going to go on in the next minutes.

"Thought so," Mingi deadpans. Yeah, that's right. Look how smart he is now! Super smart! He's got you all figured out. He knows exactly what to say and how to act to make you feel - and, fuck, does this feel like redemption - stupid.

"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Mingi's form, but Mingi is not here for it. Mingi has gotten what Mingi wants. Mingi feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.

"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Mingi's mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!

"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Mingi smugly leaned back in his chair. Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said.

In the blink of an eye, Mingi feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Mingi gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his.

A deep groan escapes Mingi's lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Mingi in front of you. Yes, Mingi is aware of the effect of his siren eyes.

For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.

"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise. And you do, allowing Mingi to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the counter. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.

Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Mingi is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time.

Okay, Mingi admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more.

Impatient as you are, you assist Mingi in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes.

And as much as Mingi would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access. His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Mingi loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even.

Finally, the time has come, and Mingi kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. It doesn't even faze him that he hasn't cleaned these floors in weeks, honestly, he is in so deep he probably wouldn't even realize if the stove was on, lighting his study notes on fire.

He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.

Throwing your thighs over his shoulders, he pulls you forward a little further, chuckling as you almost lose balance and smile at him. Okay, maybe Mingi feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in.

So that's what he does, obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Mingi tastes you.

His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls.

Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Mingi thinks, not to brag, but-

Mingi's eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Fuck, how are you so hot? Mingi's fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands.

To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, Mingi lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you. At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance.

Your throat coughs out a broken moan at this, your eyes switching between looking at Mingi's eyes and his mouth, and closing completely. Mingi loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this.

He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle. He feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist.

Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum.

Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you.

Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it.

Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.

"You make me so hard," Mingi says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants. And as if you're getting paid to stroke Mingi's ego even more, you gasp at his size.

Mingi can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?

"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully. Oh, how Mingi would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Mingi is more in his giving > receiving era.

Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more.

Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Mingi helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle.

Damnit, Mingi. Why couldn't you've changed your underwear? Mingi mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.

"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his anime boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Mingi and are not possessed by a sex demon."

"Incubus," Mingi points out.

"I don't fucking care. Just get this hideous thing off and have sex with me!"

Mingi does not need to be told twice, although he makes a mental note to scold you later for calling the one and only Naruto printed on a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world hideous.

"God, fuck," you let out, and Mingi chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half, "come here. Please."

You pull him closer, wrap your legs around him and beg him with your eyes. Mingi wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely.

God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Mingi feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.

"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again."

How did that get out there?

You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now. "You're so cute."

Cute?!

Mingi will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance. "Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open. Helplessly, you cling to Mingi's body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier.

With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Mingi's ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.

"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return. "Yeah, like it that my voice is so deep?" You nod pathetically. "Cute."

"Mingi- 's so good."

"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Mingi grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open. Mingi really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"

"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot. Mingi feels like he loves you.

Mingi also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.

"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? All that matters is that Mingi's ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish.

His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one.

Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Mingi if he kept it that way. That's why he found himself back on his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge.

It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Mingi eating his own cum out of you, he assumes. Somehow, you two end up in his bed after, mostly because Mingi is a cuddler, partly because Mingi is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows.

#mingi smut #ateez mingi smut #song mingi smut #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez mingi #ateez song mingi #kpop #smut #kpop smut #fem reader #ateez x reader #mingi x reader

5K notes · View notes

bigwishes · 8 months ago

Text

Big Man on Campus

(a trade with @alphajocklover)

Trent had been going to college for almost 4 years at this point, he was 21 and steadily approaching his 22nd birthday and approaching his graduation even faster. He had spent most of his time inside, working on his computer engineering degree or gaming. He didn't really care for the college party scene, he'd much rather stay in his tidy little single all weekend until monday classes.

but when it finally sank in how close it was to being over Trent couldn't help but have a little bit of regret, should he have hit the gym with the other guys on his floor? should he have joined the casual rowing team just for some fun and exercise? was computer science really what he wanted a degree in? Senior doubt and regret flooded his mind, but there was still an upside. 4 months were left, 4 months he'd make the most of.

Trent went on the college forums looking for something to do, he thought about a few of the options but found two that he really liked. The first was a dungeons and dragons club the second was listen as an exercise club but it also seemed to be a project for two sport science students.

Transformation Experiment Ground: "Our names are Brody and Clark, we are looking for young males on campus who are out of shape looking to get in shape and help with our experiment. Come form a sense of community, get the body you desire and help us with our research!" Monday came and classes went. Normally Trent would go home and smash out a few ours gaming but it was time for his clubs to start. First he had the sport experiment thing, the only issue was he only had a few minutes to get to the dnd club across campus, but he wasn't sure how sweaty he'd get or if he'd need a shower. He just had to hope there was a shower at the campus gym.

Trent checked his phone, he thought he was going to the campus gym but the address was for a room in the athlete scholarship dorms. Trent walked passed the gym and into the building next to it. The halls had photos of previous college athletes plastered up between the doors.

Finally he arrived, right on time, room 223. Trent raised his hand to knock when the door suddenly swung open. Standing before him was a jacked guy with spiked blonde hair in a black tank and grey sweat pants and standing next to him just slightly down the hall was an equally jacked dude with shaggy brown hair in the same outfit.

"hey bro what's up I'm Brody and just over there is Clark"

Brody stuck out his hand but when Trent went to shake it he realised Brody was waiting for a fist bump not a hand shake, Trent awkwardly closed up his hand and bumped Brody's fist. Clark let out a douchey laugh that echoed out the door.

"Come in man, come in"

"You are, the only one comin" Clark sighed

"oh, was I the only one who signed up?"

Trent started to get anxious, guys who looked like this normally bullied him and now he was going to be on his own with them for an hour. Trent made his way into the room, following Brody and Clark.

The athlete dorms were so much bigger than the other rooms he'd been in. There was a large lounge space with a small kitchen, a door to a private bathroom and two bedrooms either side of the lounge.

In the corner of the lounge there was a small fold out chair and table. On the table were 5 green vials and what looked to be an oculus rift stripped down to its basic components.

"so ummm, where do we start with like a workout plan?"

"nah dude, I mean I can totally write you one but this is a bit more of a series of practice experiments" Brody said as he walked over to the small table

"get him hooked up man, I'm gonna grab my laptop with the video"

Trent followed Brody over to the small fold out chair

"its nothing too fancy but our class mates got the actual sports lab, apparently our experiment is pseudo-science"

"what exactly are you guys studying?"

"we are trying to see if active suggestion and nutrients redirection can get people to actively pursue fitness"

"oh damn, I just thought this was like, a workout class" Trent sat down as Brody began setting up the make shift visor. "if you don't mind me asking, what are you guys majoring in?"

"well I'm getting a double major in bio-chemistry and psychology"

"and I'm getting a double major in computer engineering and software development" Clark said as he walked back in carrying an open laptop

Trent's jaw almost dropped to the floor, he'd come here thinking he was going to be made to workout by two dumb jocks who were just going to scribble times on a napkin, but instead he's participating in a proper experiment designed by two people probably leagues smarter than him.

"okay man its real easy, we are gonna hook up an image display for a few minutes and you'll take a shot of this" Clark said as he handed over one of the small green vials.

"errrr, is it safe?"

Clark burst out laughing and Brody couldn't help but crack a smile.

"yeah man, its just a diet supplement you can get offline, fda approved, basically it tells your muscles they want to hold water and your fat cells to burn"

Trent downed the green liquid as Clark flicked the visor down over his eyes. There was a short beep sound before images began to flash on the visor. Flashes of guys working out, of dumbbells and the words you are a jock and you love working out and muscle.

Trent couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry guys this is so corny" He laughed.

The other two began to chuckle as well as the room filled with laughter.

"Look dude, Its the closest thing I could find on YouTube, its about the suggestions" Clark laughed

Suddenly the lights in the room began to flicker and all 3 globes in the lounge burnt out at once.

"what the-" Brody and Clark said in unison, but they were interrupted when sparks began to fly off the oculus. They rushed to try and take it off Trent but were shocked by the electricity. Sparks shout out of the power point in the wall and the two boys watched helplessly as Trent began to convulse in his seat.

Trent let out a painful and stalled out moan as the electricity travelled over the oculus and shocked his temples.

The room was dark was illuminated every few seconds by a shock or spark and the two boys could swear they could see something, something happening to Trent's body. A few more seconds passed before it finally stopped.

Brody and Clark stood there stunned, the sound of beeping could be heard from the kitchen as the oven entered safety mode, but a more concerning noise echoed in the boys ears. The sound of sizzling. Clark carefully walked over to the curtains and opened them, the room filling with light and showing them what had happened to Trent.

He sat in the chair with his head slumped forward, his chin hitting his chest as smoke was rising off the device on his head and all over his body. But what the two saw in the dark wasn't a trick of the light, Trent had indeed gotten bigger. His skinny fat body had expanded, he'd become more lean, his muscles more pronounced and most of the fat on his body had melted away.

Trent let out a moan as a string of drool fell from his mouth

"OH THANK FUCK HE'S ALIVE" Clark cried out with a sigh of relief.

The two rushed over and pulled the device off his head. Trent's eyes instantly responded as he looked up at the two of them.

"wooahh bro, huhu, that was intence" Trent mumbled

"yeah, thank god you're okay" said Brody.

Trent lifted his arm to the side and flexed his bicep and let out a dumb chuckle.

"errr, dude, real quick, what's your name?"

"Trent, duuuhuhuhu, you fuckin forgetful bro?"

Trent seemed okay but something was wrong, even with the short interaction the three of them had, Clark and Brody knew something had happened to him.

"hey Trent, what are you" Brody asked

Trent smirked as he lifted his other arm, completing a double bicep pose.

"a jock, duuuhuhuhu"

Trent stood up and effortlessly pushed passed the two as he started heading towards the door.

"well at least we know his motor functions weren't damaged"

Clark and Brody quickly followed him

"Dude, I really think you should go to the medical centre"

"Nah bro, I got dnd like NOW I gotta boost"

"wait Trent!" Clark yelled out "err, dnd thats an interesting hobbie for a jock, what else are you into"

Trent spun around on the spot with a big smirk on his face

"glad you asked dude, I love three things, gymmin, gamin, dndenin..dndin.....dndining....." Trent's voice trailed off as he tried to finish forming his catchy sentence

"and, what about your major? what are you studying?" Brody asked

"errr huhuhu, like, what's a major?" Trent said turning around to leave again

"FUCK DUDE I THINK WE ACTUALLY FRIED HIS BRAIN" Clark started to panic

"I mean, yeah, but it seems like his core interests and that jock hypno video have combined into a new personality, I dunno if we friend his brain more, re-wrote it"

"DUDE NOW IS NOT THE FUCKING TIME FOR YOUR INTEREST IN THE HUMAN BRAIN WE FUCKING CREATED GYM BRO FRANKENSTIEN"

Trent walked out the door into the crowded hallway. Students were all talking over the top of each other in front of their dorm rooms trying to work out what was going on. The two boys raced out to follow Trent.

"Trent dude wait!, errr, tell me about your dnd character" Brody called out desperately trying to stop him from leaving

Trent continued to power forward through the crowd, pushing through them like water with his new powerful body.

"well bro, I was gonna play some like, lil spell caster dude, but like, i dunno bro, numbers are hard, so like, I think I'm just gonna play, like, some sick fucking, roided out minotaur with a huge axe"

Brody was struggling to keep up with Trent, they both had already lost Clark to the sea of students. Brody grabbed onto the back of Trent's shirt which caused him to stop and turn around.

"woah lil dude, if you wanted some action all you had to do was ask, I got an 8 inch python with your na-"

"WHAT!, ha, oh, no dude, errr, that's" Brody's face turned bright red as he got flustered.

"no? damn too bad, you lil fuckin, science dudes are kinda cute"

Brody was stunned, some how all this muscle and new persona had also added a level of charm to Trent that dug right through to his core. But it was too late to grab his attention again. Trent had already pulled away and gone off out of Brody's sight...

One week had passed since the extreme power surge that had hit the Athlete Scholarship Dorms. There almost wasn't a single incident other than a few blown light bulbs and some damaged electronics....almost. The college had found out about Trent, no matter how hard Brody and Clark tried to hide it. However the two got off lucky. Both the College and the investigation into what happened deemed it was an accident that unfortunately resulted in what was being called "Personality Death". Trent had an entirely healthy body and brain with no signs of damages, but something had happen to completely re-write who and what he was.

The college couldn't let Trent graduate, he couldn't even remember what he had enrolled for, but the college still found a purpose for him. The hid the extreme and sudden body transformation from the investigation and gave Trent a 'job'. His official title was research assistant but he was too stupid for any serious work. His real job was to sit there and be injected with experimental steroids. Forced to grow like some roided out lab rat. Not that he cared, every time Trent put on even an ounce of muscle he'd spend hours in the mirror flexing. He was the biggest guy on campus.

[6 years later]

"okay babe, just hold still"

"aahhh, fuck, it feels so good when it goes in"

"you are so weird, I hate getting injections"

"well huhuhu, when you got a sexy lil piece of meat to do em, its a huge fuckin turn on dude"

Brody stood up from the kitchen table and began to clean up the injection kit, chuckling as he did it.

"Trent, that's so cheesy"

Trent stood up, the sound of wood scraping against the floor filled the room as he effortlessly and accidentally moved the entire dining table.

"will it make me look like Captain America huhuhu?"

"babe...seriously, I think we passed the Captain America stage about 150 pounds ago"

"then hit me with all 6 and make me the hulk" Trent pressed his body against Brody and the table.

Brody was no stranger to 300+ pounds pressing against him "I said no Trent" a slight grin cracked across Brody's face, 'besides, for all I know that one shot will add another 50 pounds, we gotta wait and see."

Trent stood there staring into Brody's eyes with an expression that could only be described as a computer failing to load a basic program 10 times in a row.

"Then jab me with all 6 and give me" Trent stopped to count on his fingers, "120 pounds of muscle" a large smirk crept across his face, proud he was able to do the math in his head.

Brody rolled his eyes and chuckled

"that'd be 300 pounds babe" Brody packed up the rest of the kit and left the kitchen.

Trent went to follow after him, he had hit the gym already today so no other thoughts existed in his mind other than getting attention for how big he was from Brody, but as he walked out the kitchen he caught a glimpse of himself and began flexing in the lounge room mirror, completely forgetting what he had been doing just 2 seconds again...

He was so proud of the roided lab rat he had become...

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #tf story #transformation #gay transformation

887 notes · View notes

burstinn · 1 year ago

Text

You accidentally sit on their face, And they actually enjoy it

HEADCANONS

Warnings and Notes:

All of these aren't serious hcs, I was high again and wanted to make this

I made this for funny

Slight nsfw

Gn reader, target audience is male

Haha face sitting

People mentioned:

Riptide (Tide), Soap, Gaz, Ghost, König, Makarov, Keegan, Horangi, Price, Krueger, Roach, Logan, Graves

You are tired, after agrueling training from a grouchy superior who had a bad day so he had to take it out on you and your comrades. You needed to sit down, badly. Your legs are about ready to give up.

Once you reach the common room, fucking finally. You pull out your phone to find something to watch, while you make your way to the sofa.

And you sit down, Before you felt something poking you, something.. Wrong. You immediately look down realizing you.. YOU SAY ON SOMEONE'S FACE

"OH MY GOD, I'M SO SORRY"

RIPTIDE

- He immediately sits up looking at you, well if his mask was off he would be confused at fuck

- "Sorry for huh??"

- Seems like you say on him while he slept

- "... ", "nothin"

- Weird, but okay.. He tells you go off while he layed back down to continue his eye rest

- Thank fucking god, Thank the holy stars he didn't catch you sittin on him

- BUT.. The holy stars didn't feel like saving you right now. Because apparently a rookie caught you accidentally sitting on Tide and told him after he woke up.. That fuckin snitch

- Now you have to face the embarrassment of Riptide confronting you about it the next day.

- Tide sounds upset as well while confronting you, how humiliating

- Well the thing that you don't know is. The thing is, he angry cause HE DIDN'T GET TO FEEL TO ASS ON HIS FACE. HE DIDN'T GET TO FEEL A PLUMP ASS SITTIN DOWN ON HIS FAAACE

- and by God would he find a way to let you sit on him.

SOAP

- Yknow.. You know how I write this man..

- He saw you walk in, distracted by your phone.. Obviously making your way to the couch while he sitting down.

- Then he got the bright idea.. To yknow.. Lay his head down to just... Idk stretch.. Totally

- He had the pleasure as well to watch your ass slowly sit down on his face, well for a few seconds anyway. Then you immediately get off his face. Sad life fr

- "huh? What's up why'd you get off?" "Your ass is nice to look at btw"

- " you saw me about to sit down on you and you didn't say anything?!"

- "A man gotta do to experience something new man.."

- You would hit him. But you would also get in trouble for that.

- he would joke the shit about it as well. He would tease the fuck outta you for the rest of the month for this.

- Bro won't even hide to shamefully ask you if you wanna sit on his face again ( in a joking way)

- (He's actually serious)

GAZ

- He was about to shut his eyes when he suddenly saw an outline of an ass about to sit on him.

- His eyes suddenly opened and he tried to get up but nah.. Too late bro you gotta feel the full plumpy moons first

- When you got up his eyes were wide and his face was red.

- "no.. It's okay.."

- he got off and left. Leaving you in your shame

- He had to leave to compose himself.. He found something new about himself and he isn't sure how to react

GHOST

- His eyes were closed.. Then he felled something soft on his face.

- Then a scream oh my god I'm sorry

- Oh.. Shit...

- He sits up, realizing you sat on his face.. He doesn't say anything.

- His face is fucking red under the mask. Your ass suddenly looked twice as big as before. Don't know how that works but go with it fr.

- He got hard, you noticed.

- "dude.. Sir..?.. Are you.."

- He just looks at you. He has that look in his eyes

- Cmon, yknow what you gotta do.. YOU KNOW

- SIT ON HIS FUCKING FACE RUAUAAAAGHHH

KÖNIG

- He wasn't expecting ass in his face, he thought he wouldn't enjoy something like face sitting but hey.. It's actually.. Nice?

- He doesn't say anything when you suddenly sit up embarrassingly trying too apologize

- He just nodded..

- He wanted you to sit on his face again so fucking badly..

- So badly he would lay down on literally anything sittable while you were in the room

- It was so fucking obvious it was almost funny

- You had to confront him about it. And he just.. Confessed, yeah, he wanted you to sit ok his face

- .... Cmon bro.. Be a man and sit on the guys face, Make his wish come trueeee

MAKAROV

- " sit back down"

- "excuse me? Sir.. No-"

- you better sit the fuck back down on his face

- He will literally pull a gun on you and force you to sit back down on his face

KEEGAN

- No fucking lie he literally took a fucking huge sniff

- You know because you fucking heard that comically loud sniff

- You had to cut your apology short to look at that dude in disbelief

- "Did you just fucking sniff my ass?!"

- Bro will literally look at you with a goofy ahh face and just look at you.. Not saying anything, not even a fuckin nod

- "you gonna sit back down on me or..?"

- He made you sit back down on his face

HORNAGI

-EHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHAHAHAHAHEHRHEHEHHhahahahahaahHAHAAH

- He will literally squeeze your ass, then pull your legs and make you sit back down on his face

- Don't even try to fight. His hands are fucking locked down on your thighs to keep you stuck on his face

- He made you sit down on his face for so long, you were literally concerned if he was breathing

- if you ask him if he's alive, he would just squeeze your leg to show you. Yeah, he's good

- if you look behind you, He's hard.

PRICE

- would smile and assure you it's okay.

- Pats your back, for more assurance. But he literally wants to Pat your ass

- Bro would imagine what it would be if you sat on his face

- Naked. Yes, if you sat on his face naked.

- If you did his beard would tickle you.. Which was what he wanted fr

KRUEGER

- He would say something like in a very angry and demanding tone

- "Why'd you get off?"

- "huh?"

- "Sit.Back.down"

- You did

ROACH

- Yo.. He feelin something he never felt before. Haha lie he just found a new kink he would actually enjoy

- He would literally follow you around and tug your shirt and point at your ass then his face

- If you would say no, He would leave and come back a few minutes later and do the same thing

- He would do it until you say yes..

- He's very happy. He's a very happy bug

LOGAN WALKER

- Would scream at you

- because you made him discover something about himself

- He's angry because of that

- He would force you to run 15 laps because of that.

- Then when you suddenly tired, sweating yo legs shaking from how tired you are

- He would silently and gently ask you ( he would toss you over his shoulder and walk you off to his room and make you sit on him)

- He won't explain why he did that. He just wanted to

GRAVES

- Would look at you like 🤨

- Then be like 😐😒😏

- stands up and slaps your ass

- and asks you to sit on his face

Everyone mentioned

- You will face fuck them

- Do not fight me on this, they will make you face fuck them

3K notes · View notes

solitude4chiron · 2 years ago

Text

Hobie Headcannons cs some of y’all be treating this man like he’s some white goth nga that’s never had black experiences 😭😭 these are js off the top of my head so don’t tweak out… JUH VIBE

He’s most likely Jamaican/British or African/British because he’s from the UK

He has had multiple people try to force him into playing basketball at least once because he’s 6’5

“Man, so you telling me you ain’t never tried going D1?”

“Never even played.”

“NIGGA WHAT?”

Has gotten his hand popped multiple times from touching his hair while getting it done

“How many do you have left?”

“Boy move that damn hand.”

Gives horrible advice then says “but I don’t kno, thats just me”

“She cheated on me bru. Like cheated. Called me ON FACETIME while they was hunchin.”

“Me personally I would find the guy and start a gas leak in their house while his family is sleeping. But ion kno, that’s just me tho.”

Played soccer as a kid with a makeshift paper soccer ball

Was one of those kids who were forced to finish their plate before leaving the dinner table so he would sit at the table till the next day playing with his food

Illegally listens to and downloads most of the music he likes

“Wanna do a Spotify blend?”

“Y’all use that shi?”

“who df are you bro…”

Will side eye you till you burst out laughing if you both see something crazy in public

Sung chi-chi man religiously as a child before he knew what the song meant (iykyk)

Takes pictures of white people with braids or locs

Hobie: Attachment: 1

disgusting creatures…

Hangs trash bags on his doorknobs around the house

Had entire debates as a child with older people at the cookout on why he should be able to eat ribs instead of hotdogs

“These steaks for the adults, go grab a lil hotdog and a juice.”

“But why? Can’t we both eat and enjoy the same things without you having to dehumanize me and view me only as a child without preferences for food?”

“Boy go get that fuckin hotdog and caprisun get out my face.”

Had his hairline pushed back astronomically far when he was little (Nigerian boy canon event)

On the other hand he probably never had his hair cut as a kid and started free-forming when he was young (I’m conflicted between both)

Constantly had a smart mouth as a kid (he still does), like CONSTANTLY. Once he got his lips snatched and balled into a fist

Would steal, get caught and say is “it cause I’m black?”

“Yo, were you stealing back there?”

“Why bruv? Cause I’m black?”

“Nevermind.”

Touches hot ass food with his bare hands. Like he will flip pancakes with his hands.

Can literally sleep anywhere.. like anywhere. People in his band have pictures of him hunched over on sinks, sleeping on bathroom floors, in bathtubs with the curtains wrapped around him, on the bus. Anywhere you can think of.

He doesn’t spend much money on birthday gifts or gifts in general. He likes to make things by hand even if he has to spend a few weeks

After his shows he loves to meet people in the crowd, even if they freak out. He isn’t really for the idolizing so he doesn’t know how to express his emotions too much on that.

“OH MY GOD HOBIE!?!”

“i aint think i was that special but thanks luv”

• His jacket makes HELLA noise and he doesn’t realize it. Just like if he had beads in his hair.

“imma get bro good this time..”

“Hobie don’t even try to scare me, i hear that big ass jacket thumpin down the hallway.”

• The first time he kissed a girl with lip piercings like his, they got caught on each other. They sat there for almost half and hour trying to untangle each other without hurting each other.

• He’s definitely been called a few different celebrities before, none really looked like him.

“Are you playboi carti?!”

“Bruv.”

over.

“Your that rockstar dude lancey right?”

“bru…”

and over.

“you Opium?”

“I’m starting to feel this is lowkey sterotypical…”

and over again.

• When he’s in the pit at concerts he looks out for the younger people towards the front to make sure they don’t get thrashed around too hard.

“you good young’n?”

“I CANT FEEL MY FACE”

“that’s cool too”

• He only really steals from big corporations, not small family owned places. Just out of respect. Even when they say he can take things for free he still pays, maybe a few dollars over budget.

• He loves collecting trinkets and little things he finds on the streets or backstage. He has multiple spoons, buttons and scrap fabrics laying around

• When he first learned about capitalism he realized it everywhere, like EVERYWHERE. That boy was pissed.

• He loves girls who can beat him tf up, like whoop his ass. Or girls who will cuss him tf out. Sometimes you both will be arguing and he’ll just sit back and let you go off on him.

anyways yawl that’s it lmk if I should drop some more this was fun asl to make 😛

#hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie my beloved #hobie headcanons #headcanon #hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk #spiderman atsv #hobart brown #hobie brown x reader

2K notes · View notes

taesanluv3r · 3 months ago

Text

nicest guy.

kim woonhak x reader

inspired by bnd's MAMA performance! the hyungs getting their baby ready for prom night! taesan's a menace and yn's dad is hard-headed, also woonhak has his license in this. lowercase intended. cuss words, kiss scene. pls ignore any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. enjoyy

wc: 3,810

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you're going to prom in that?!"

with the way jaehyun was staring at him, you'd think kim woonhak had showed up in a jersey and sweats. "what?" the young boy asks before taking in a deep gulp, an uneasy feeling sprouting up his body at the way his hyungs eyed him down. "it's not bad is it? i mean it's a suit...?" he questions, eyebrows curling into a pose of doubt. to be fair, he wasn't wrong, it was a suit...a suit that belonged to his dad way before his time, that is.

"i mean...apart from the fact that it's a billion years out of style and like- three sizes too big on you...i guess it is a suit!" taesan chuckles, prompting riwoo, who stood beside him, to do the same. "yeah! i mean i wouldn't be caught dead in that, but a suit's a suit...i guess..." the backhanded statements made the youngest boy roll his eyes, whining as he slumped down onto the couch in the boys' shared dormitory.

"hyung, what do i do? i mean in a couple hours i have to go pick the yn ln up from her house and then i'm supposed to give her the best prom experience in the world and i can't even pick the right outfit?! i mean, how do i expect her to say yes to being my girlfriend if i can't get anything right?! i'm such a loser!" the older guy's looked at the boy with sympathy, watching as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"woonhak..." sungho starts, taking a seat beside him. "don't say that...you're more than just a loser" - "yeah, cause he's a huge loser!" taesan butts in, "dude, can't you see the kid's stressing? leave him alone!" leehan says, striking the menacing one upside his head. "don't listen to him, broski...i mean, yn did say yes to your prom-posal, didn't she? that's something!" woonhak nods along to the word's of his older friends, beginning to gain back the confidence he had lost just a moment ago.

"yeah! and besides, the outfit isn't that big a deal...we'll just have to fix some things..." jaehyun says, "mhm, and we can help you with all of that. we are, after all, your beloved hyungs" riwoo smiles, pressing a hand onto the boy's back in reassurance. "now come on..." he continues, beginning to pull woonhak up from the couch.

"...if you're planning to confess your love to yn tonight, then we got some serious work to do!"

"operation: turn loser woonhak into gentlemanly woonhak so that he can win over his long time crush who's lowkey out of his league, is a go- ow! quit hitting me!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"hm..." leehan squints, his pointer finger pressed against his lips. "try the red one again..." woonhak rolls his eyes, taking off the tie around his neck for what felt like the billionth time. "how about the blue-" - "hyung, seriously? i've tried the blue one on like- four times already!" leehan laughs at the boy's annoyance. "okay fine, at least try on the purple one, please?" the younger of the two obliges, throwing the last of the ties on. "oh, gross! red it is...use the red tie" woonhak almost throws a tantrum, "seriously?! all that work for you to pick the first one i put on? she better love this tie or i'm gonna crash out" leehan smiles with his eyes, leaning over to pinch the other's cheeks.

"beauty takes time, baby"

"bro, stay still!" sungho exclaims, holding their maknae down by his shoulders. "i'm trying to but you plus a giant curling iron is kind of freaking me out!" the older one scoffs, "don't be such a baby, it's not like i'm gonna burn you! and how do you expect me to fix this mop on your head if you keep moving, huh?" woonhak sighs, giving up on fighting back; he wasn't going to win anyways.

"now hand me the hairspray..."

"and five, six, seven, eight and- no, no, no!" riwoo shakes his head and slaps a hand onto his forehead. "what? what am i doing wrong? those are literally the right moves!" poor woonhak, his head's just moments away from exploding. "it's the beat, dude! you need to stay on beat! how do you expect to win this girl over if you can't dance on beat? start over from the top" riwoo claps his hands, bending down to rewind the song on his phone.

"and five, six, seven, eight..."

"uh...hey...um-" - "stop, stop, stop!" taesan shoves a palm in front of woonhak's face. "you really like this girl and you're about to ask her to be your girlfriend. this is something you've been waiting for your whole life and you start with...uh...hey?" the other boys laugh at his spot-on impression of their youngest, "c'mon woonhak, you know you can do better than that! here, i'll show you an example" jaehyun chimes in, asking sungho to stand in front of him. "pretend sungho is the girl, okay?" woonhak nods, watching closely like it were lesson worth half his semester grade.

"first, you want to get her alone, somewhere nice so that it's just the two of you. hey sungho, follow me..." jae begins, reaching a hand out for sungho to take. "then, you want to give her something that shows you care, say...a rose-" the guy is interrupted, "she prefers tulips though" woonhak states, making the others smile. "fine, then give her a tulip..." jaehyun continues, picking up a pen from the coffee table to use as a prop. "here, this is for you..." he says, handing the "flower" over to sungho who gasps comically, sending the group of guys into a fit of laughter.

"guys, shut up, this last part is the most important. you gotta remember this, woonhak"

the maknae nods, beginning to take mental notes. "you have to speak from your heart" woonhak's eyebrows furrow in confusion, "what do you mean?" leehan pats his back from beside him, "he means this is the point where you have to confess to her!" jaehyun nods, "yup! and we mean really confess. tell her how you feel, why you feel that way, really sell it to her" taesan butts in again, "you gotta show her that being with you is worthwhile" sungho agrees, "vulnerability helps! ask her to give you a chance, tell her how much she means to you" riwoo joins in finally, "and then, when she says yes, kiss her under the moonlight- for a bit of romance, of course"

woonhak sighs, taking all the information in. "if she says yes..." the older boys watched as doubt took over his complexion. "hey, don't say that!" jaehyun says, clicking his tongue. "yeah, bro...i know i keep calling you a loser and all, but that's just part of your charm- i mean, you're a nice guy, woonhak. and once you add our advice to the mix, she'll be yours in no time!" taesan's words are sincere, though his stoic expression said otherwise but that's just how he looks.

"if you say so..." the boy trails off, breathing deeply as he began to stand up again. "i have to go pick her up now...wish me luck, please" his hyungs shoot him big smiles, almost tearing up (jaehyun fully cried) at the sight of their youngest all grown up and ready to take on his first prom. making sure his tie was on straight and fixing the loose strands of his hair, they finally send him out the door, watching as he gets into the car and begins to drive away.

"goodluck, woonbaby! we love you!"

"fighting! go get her!"

"make hyung proud, woonhak!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

'this is it woonhak...it's time to face her...and her parents...shit i completely forgot about her parents...fuck...well, don't just stand there, woonhak! ring the doorbell!'

ding dong!

the boy could hear a quiet rustling noise coming from behind the door. he waited patiently for an answer, fixing his posture and checking his reflection in the window in the meantime. he closes his eyes and takes a couple more deep breaths before the creak of an opening door brings him back to reality.

a man, who was the spitting image of his crush, stood before him, yn's dad. woonhak clears his throat before bowing slightly, "hello sir, my name is kim woonhak and i'm here to pick your daughter up for prom" the lack of answer freaks the boy out as he reaches a trembling hand out for the man to shake. "s...sir?" he squeaks out, voice raising by a couple octaves.

"honey, who is it at the door?" a sweet female voice breaks the awkward - and fearful - silence. "is that yn's date?" she asks before emerging from behind the man at the door. if woonhak thought yn's dad was the spitting image of her, well then her mom must've been her twin! "oh- uh, hello mrs ln, i'm woonhak! your daughter's date...i'm here to pick her up!" the boy stutters a bit but manages to finish his sentence. the tension in his body slowly began to exit out when the woman laughs happily, grabbing his shaking hand and inviting him right into their home.

"sorry about my husband, sweetie, he's just a bit of a hard-head and he just isn't quite set on the idea of his baby princess already going to her first prom! sorry if he gave you a hard time" mrs ln was kind, she spoke in a way that made the air-conditioned room start to get warm. "oh, not at all...you have a lovely home, by the way" woonhak started to feel comfortable, gratefully taking the cup of tea he was offered. "well aren't you just the sweetest, yn's still getting ready- you know how us girls are! i'm just gonna pop in up there and let her know you're waiting, okay?" the boy smiles as he nods, "thank you"

the next ten or so minutes felt like hours as the boy awkwardly tried to make small conversation with his date's dad in the living room. "so...uh...do you like baseball...sir?" he stutters as he makes eye contact with the framed baseball jersey that hung on one of the walls. mr ln nods, "yup, i dabble. do you?" his monotonous tone paired with his expression-less face made poor woonhak's heart beat out of his chest. "yeah...yeah i love baseball, used to be my biggest dream to be a baseball player" the man laughs, scaring the boy a bit, but he tries to play it cool. "a scrawny kid like you? baseball? right..." he wasn't gonna lie, that did hurt his ego a little, and if it weren't for the fact that he was the father of the girl he loved so much, kim woonhak would've lost it right then and there.

the sound of footsteps emerging from up the stairs interrupted the two guys from their conversation - if you can even call it that. "and now i present to you..." mrs ln begins, standing at the top of the steps. "princess yn!" she announced, a familiar giggle following as a figure appeared beside her. "mom! i told you to stop calling me that!"

there she was. woonhak's mouth fell agape as he got up from his seat, almost stumbling from the sight before him. she had on the prettiest dress, embellished with all kinds of tiny silver jewels. it hugged her body just right, her hair flowing off of her head so effortlessly, as if she just woke up like this. yn ln looked perfect, just...

"beautiful"

"you don't look too bad yourself" her honey-like voice shakes the boy out of his thoughts. "huh? oh! um, hey" the girl giggles, her nose scrunching in the process. "i like your dress" woonhak smiles, feeling nervous from the sudden close proximity; when did she get from the top of the stairs to standing right in front of him? "thanks, i like your tie- the red looks good with the suit" yn's compliment makes him blush and he makes a mental note to thank leehan later.

"oh, aren't you two just adorable? come here, let me get some pictures for facebook!" mrs ln beckons, tilting her head to direct the pair over to one side of the room. "okay...one more...and...done! aw, aren't they just lovely? right, honey?" mr ln grunts, "i guess so..." another tense silence submerges the space. yn clears her throat, "well! we'd love to stay and chat but i think woonhak and i should get going now!" her date nods, "mhm! yup! it was so nice meeting you guys, thank you for the tea and for letting me take your daughter to prom- it really means a lot" the man and woman nod along to the boy's words, "of course, sweetie. you two stay safe!" mrs ln speaks as she follows them out the door.

"we will! love you guys, i'll see you later! and dad? please stop staring at him like a psycho, thank you"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you good?" woonhak asks, watching as yn strapped her seatbelt on. she smiles sweetly, "mhm, are you? sorry my dad's such a weirdo" he laughs, finally starting to feel less nervous. "he called me a scrawny kid...what does that even mean?" she giggled, "well, that's dad for you...don't let it get to your head, hakie..." her usual nickname for him made his heart skip a few beats, "and if it's any consolation, i think you're perfect!...now let's go, i'm itching to get on the dance floor" woonhak tries to ignore the compliment, not wanting it to distract him from driving safely to their prom venue - aka their high-school gymnasium.

and off they went.

the drive didn't take much time at all, being that the ln household was only eight minutes away from the school. upon arriving, woonhak parks his car amongst the others in the lot. he gets out first, scrambling to make it to the passenger's side in time to open up the door for yn and help her down.

she giggles, beginning to step out of the vehicle as he takes her hand in his softly. "thank you. when did you get so gentlemanly?" the boy sticks his chest out with pride, "i kinda took a gentleman crash course before picking you up, honestly" yn laughs, "just for me?" woonhak wiggles his eyebrows before dramatically bowing, "all for you, princess yn" the girl playfully pushes him to the side, "you meeting my parents might've been the worst thing ever!" the boy rolls his eyes, "at least we got that out of the way, right?" she nods, "c'mon! party time!"

the prom was just like what they've always dreamed of. drunk on non-alcoholic beverages, people sweating their make-up off on the dance floor, and of course, sharing stupid smiles with their friends and their dates. as the time passed by the music went from ballads to clean versions of the latest pop releases, and the buffet of food prepared on every corner of the gym had slowly decreased. students were having the time of their lives, some had left to make-out in the hallways, other's had decided to leave the campus completely.

woonhak watches from beside the bowl of fruit punch as his date stuffed her face with all sorts of cheeses from the charcuterie board. how'd she look so cute just doing whatever? that can't be legal. somewhere amidst his staring, the boy felt a presence on his shoulders - or rather, he felt five very familiar presences on his shoulders.

"pssttt, woonhak!" the imaginary voice, that sounded eerily similar to myung jaehyun, calls. the boy's face contorts in confusion. huh? he thought before another voice spoke. "it's time! remember what we taught you!" that one sounded an awful lot like riwoo. "go shoot your shot, woohak! fighting!" a third voice that was a mix of leehan's and taesan's finished. before he could even gather any of his thoughts, an invisible force pushes him straight towards yn.

"hakie! you have to try this...it's gouda with herbs! i fucking love cheese...hey...you okay?" the last of her sentence came off worried, her eyebrows tilted upwards. "yeah...um...i think i just need some air, come with me to the football field?" the girl agrees without hesitating, grabbing one last slice of the creamy dairy concoction before beginning to walk towards the back exit of the gym. woonhak follows close behind, sneakily snatching one of the tulips from the vase at the very end of the buffet table.

step 1: get her alone...done.

"wow...the sun's setting already!" yn twirls around happily as they entered the empty field, the cool air hitting their skin and causing goosebumps to emerge. woonhak smiled, he always found himself smiling at her. "hey..." she called, starting to walk towards the boy. "you sure you okay?" he shakes his head but quickly switches to nodding, very rapidly. "mhm! yeah, i'm fine...uh...here!" he suddenly exclaims, pulling the stolen flower out from behind his back. she jumps in shock at the sudden gesture but giggles sweetly as she retrieves the single tulip.

"did you steal this from the buffet?" yn questions, sticking an eyebrow up jokingly. "um...no...?" woonhak lies, though the dumb grin on his face said otherwise. "well, thanks anyways...tulips are my favourite" she stares at the pink plant lovingly, finding it fascinating the way the setting sun began to illuminate against it's petals. "i know they are" they share another smile, and he watches as she tucks the flower into a loop on her dress, right by her hip.

step 2: a gift to show you care...done.

the first two steps to his hyungs' three step guide had been successful. the boy felt a little more confident now, just one last step left...the hardest of them all, it's time to confess.

"hey, hakie" - "hey, yn" the pair speak in unison, both abruptly pausing. "you first" they jinx again, laughing softly. "you first, hakie" yn says, to which woonhak nods. the boy takes a deep breath before taking one step closer to her, "yn..." he trails off, grabbing both her hands in his. his chest in pounding, he swears she could feel his heartbeat through his wrists. "what is it?" she asks, a tone of genuine worry laced within her words.

'speak from your heart...tell her how you really feel'

"listen yn, i like you. i like you a lot! you make me really happy and you make me laugh and sometimes you make me really really nervous" the girl's mouth opens to speak but he doesn't let her, not yet. "i think i've honestly liked you for like ever! i mean how could i not? you're awesome- er- i mean, you're amazing and cool and just ah! you're perfect and- wait, wait, let me finish first and then you can react" she giggles at the obvious excitement underlining his nerves, nodding and allowing him to speak. "and i know that i can be a huge loser sometimes, and totally un-cool, and i can't even be twenty percent sure that you like me in any way but..."

woonhak pauses to think - and to catch his breath.

'show her that being with you is worthwhile'

"yn, if you gave me a chance, i swear i will be the nicest guy you'll ever know - i mean, i'll treat you right and i'll cherish you with my whole heart literally for the rest of my life. yn, i...i love you and...i might melt and scream and cry if you ever felt even a smidgen this way for me..." the boy straightens his back up as he breathes in once more, "yn ln...would you...maybe, possibly...would you like to be my girlfriend?"

he didn't know when or how, but somewhere amidst his monologue-like confession his eyes had started to well up in tears, a single droplet slipping down his cheek. "you...you can react now, yn" the girl only smiles, letting go of one of his hands to graze her own against his face, wiping away that single tear.

"oh, hakie..." she prolongs, focusing on the way his lips quivered in hope and in slight fear. "first of all, you don't need to swear on anything! i know for a fact that you're the nicest guy in the whole world..." the expression on his face softens as her hand moves back to holding his. "you know, it would've saved you a lot of time if you had skipped the whole speech and just asked me straight-forward" he's confused now, his mind is all over the place and he can't seem to understand what's going on. "why...why's that?" he musters under his breath; his breath that only got heavier. "cause..."

"i'd love to be your girlfriend, loser"

the boy's eyes widened, was he hearing her right? was this really happening? finding the look on his face ever so amusing, yn breaks into a fit of loud and happy laughter. it felt as though a mass production of fireworks had just erupted around them and the empty field held the same warmth as the gymnasium that swarmed with people. the pair are frozen, she doesn't know what to do next and he's searching his brain for an answer.

'when she says yes, kiss her under the moonlight'

with his heart full and beating straight out of it's socket, woonhak uses light force to pull yn closer, pressing a passionate kiss on her lips. it takes a second for her to register the gesture, just a second before she had completely melted into the moment. the couple smiled into the kiss, letting out bashful giggles as they held each other tight - youthful and happy right under the moonlight.

"hey, what were you gonna say before? like- before you told me to talk first?" the boy spoke, their lips still in contact. "mmm...i don't know, it was probably not important, whatever...kiss me" he laughs, ridding of any extra space between them.

step 3: tell her how you really feel...done...and kiss her under the moonlight...ongoing.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"and then the gym teacher caught us kissing on the field and told us not to so we decided to get in the car and end the night there and...yeah! that's it"

the five older boys cheered as their maknae recalled the fresh sequence of events. "well done, woonhak! i knew you had it in you" sungho says, patting the boy on his shoulder. "yeah, me too...i never doubted you for a second!" taesan followed, causing everyone to roll their eyes and sigh.

kim woonhak giggled almost manically, screaming as he flopped onto his back on the carpeted floor. "wah! i can't believe i'm officially dating the yn ln...pinch me, i must be dreaming!" - "don't actually pinch him, taesan"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

WAAAAA first loooooooongggg fic in a while!!! cant believe i actually finished this. i wrote for 4 hours straight lololol been thinking of this since MAMA so!!!!! hope u guys enjoyed it, ill try to write more soon. love, kona.

perm taglist:

@en-dream @candycane-lemonade

#kona's work ♡#boynextdoor #boynextdoor drabbles #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x reader #woonhak #woonhak x reader #boynextdoor woonhak #bnd x reader #bnd woonhak #kim woonhak

263 notes · View notes

warping-realities · 5 months ago

Text

Beautiful Things

Hey, everyone! This story is part of the Viral Transformation funfarre proposed by the one and only @occamstfs, in celebration of hitting 2K followers! Congrats, bro, you totally deserve it. He’s one of our top authors and never fails to bring the best stories.

Before I dive in, I gotta give you a heads-up that this is a story about corruption, where good people turn into the worst kind of folks. If that’s a sensitive topic for you, I’d recommend not moving forward. Trust me, in the original project, things were way worse, but after chatting with the MAN himself, who helped me with some edits, I softened the tone of the story a bit. If you’re interested in the original version, I can post it later, but this is the final cut.

That said, I hope you all enjoy it and join me in celebrating this awesome author!"

Alois was strolling mindlessly in the morning towards the student exchange center in Seattle, where a bunch of fresh-off-the-boat students from all over the world were gathering for the adaptation phase of their exchange semester. The eighteen-year-old Austrian was loving the experience of taking a gap year before diving back into his studies in Vienna, where he planned to become a doctor. As he walked down the busy street, on what should be the only sunny day of the year, he spotted one of those types he had seen around the city. They were all buff and tall, with wavy, well-groomed hair, and the big ol' mustache that defined them, giving off the vibe of some douchebag brotherhood or whatever. This one in particular was jamming out to music on headphones that looked straight outta the nineties, just like his outfit, which consisted of Levi’s jeans, a white tee, a dark jacket, and combat boots. The whole look cranked the douche factor up to eleven, making Alois's heart race a bit as a shiver of attraction ran through him. When the guy passed by Alois, he shot a look at the smaller red-headed man, dripped with arrogance while a smirk played at the corners of his lips, like he knew some secret that Alois was clueless about. To make things worse, the music blaring from his headphones was so loud that Alois couldn’t help but catch a snippet.

“Please, staaaayyyy…”

That stupid song again. At first, Alois thought it was kinda interesting, despite all the religious preaching in it, which rubbed the young atheist the wrong way. What he didn’t realize was that the singer was all about filming a lot of TikTok videos to promote his work, videos that inevitably flooded the social media feeds of a gay dude with an unfounded attraction to that type of guy. A type that seemed to be multiplying on the streets of Seattle every damn day. Sure, Benson Boone was from Monroe, just a few miles away, but still… Maybe he was looking at things from the wrong angle, maybe it was the singer who was cashing in on the style of the group he and his fellow exchange students had dubbed the Mustache Gang.

The fact is, after several months, the hype around the song should’ve died but apparently that was still far from happening. Trying to leave the discomfort aside Alois headed to the coffee shop that had quickly become his favorite spot during his short stay in the city. As he walked along, head down like most introverts do, he got lost in thought about what kind of work the exchange agency would hook him up with, until his daydreaming was interrupted when those familiar chords hit his ears again.

“I want you, I need you, oh God…”

But this time, someone had slapped a cheerful electronic beat onto the song, which not only butchered it but also made it even more annoying. Looking for the source of that cacophony, he lifted his head and glanced to the side. He could’ve sworn he saw a chubby dude coming his way, but now there was no sign of him, just another one of those big-mustached douchebags strutting around with the swag all of them seemed to have, along with the usual cocky grin. Dressed in a white tank that showed off his defined arms and hairy chest. There was no one else close to Alois on the street at that moment, which was a blessing, since his dick was starting to stir at that sight. But that also freaked him out. Where the hell did that damn music come from? Was he seriously imagining things now?

Distracted and worried about his sanity, he stepped into the coffee shop. At that moment, the place was almost empty; there was just an old dude, well past his prime, fiddling with his phone, looking like he was in a bad mood while he seemed to be listening to something that deeply disgusted him through the giant headphones he was wearing. Apparently, the use of those things was a trend around there.

Passing by the old guy, Alois headed to the counter and ordered his usual coffee with cream and sugar. As he made his way back to the exit, still freaking out about his mental state, disaster struck. Clumsy as ever, he tripped and faceplanted on the floor, coffee spilling everywhere and staining a good chunk of his clothes.

“Alois, du bist dumm…”

He said stunned in embarrassment, as he turned to the side, starting to get up. His view landed on black combat boots that ended in large calves covered in denim, leading up to thighs as thick as they come. But the old man was wearing a suit, no? Clearly not, since the Levi’s pants had been replaced by a black hoodie that concealed a massive chest, which the sleeves were stretched to the limit by powerful biceps. The grand torso gave way to a handsome face framed by wavy brown hair, and right in the center, the ever-present slick mustache that even the guy’s prescription glasses couldn’t diminish the douchebag effect. With his eyes closed and a focused expression, he didn’t even seem to notice what just happened right next to him.

But Alois couldn’t help but wonder, where the hell did that old guy go? While trying to figure out when the old dude left the shop and the Mustache Gang member took his spot at the table, the man seemed to wake up. Smiling and fixing his hair, he finally noticed that a kid was trying to get up from a puddle of coffee right next to him.

“Need a hand, little bro?” he asked, though not with a genuinely empathetic expression; on the contrary, the grin he shot at Alois did little to hide how much he found the situation hilarious.

“No, I’m good, thanks!” Alois replied, finishing getting up and bolting out of the shop as the guy burst into loud laughter behind him. Apparently, this dude wasn’t just rocking the look of a douchebag. Rushing to wipe the coffee off his hoodie, Alois continued his march to his destination. Luckily, no other mortifying events unfolded along the way. Upon entering the classroom, he passed by Charles, a French dude with long blonde hair and delicate features, who was checking something on his iPad while also rocking a pair of those old-school headphones. Not wanting to disturb his classmate, he didn’t say hi and headed further back in the room, where bis friends Arjun and Qian, hailing from India and Taiwan respectively, were hanging out. As he passed Charles, he heard that stylized version of Benson Boone’s song again.

“I found my mind, I'm feelin' sane

It's been a while, but I'm finding my faith…”

Apparently, he wasn’t going crazy after all. He quickly turned towards the source of the music only to find one of those big-mustached douchebags and no music font at all. But he could’ve sworn that… wasn’t there another person there? A kid with long, well-kept blonde hair? Well, his hair was definitely blonde and well-kept, just like the his mustache. Wearing a tank top that showed off his arms and staring at everyone in the room with an air of immense superiority that made Alois feel torn between attraction and disgust.

Resuming his path back to his friends, he discreetly adjusted his boner in his sweatpants while sitting down and trying to forget about that damn song.

“So, who’s the jerk sitting at the front of the class like he owns the place?”

“We’ve been wondering that too, man,” Arjun, the skinny Indian boy with long limbs replied.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” continued Qian, who was more compact, as their teacher, Mr. Sizemore, spoke to the class.

“Guys, today I brought the manager of one of the establishments where you might work. Chuck works at a pub called Shooters; it’s an opportunity we typically offer to our students over twenty one. However, the place has expanded and now also has a Hookah Lounge, the Puff Palace. Although I must say the best option would be for no one here to inhale anything, this is still a decent job opportunity. Without further ado, here’s Mr. Chuck Morris.”

The guy smiled arrogantly before stretching and scratching his neck, causing the lightweight, almost see-through fabric of his tank top to expose his nipples, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. He took his sweet time getting up, like he was in some kind of private show.

But in Alois’s opinion, it would’ve been better if he had stayed seated and shut up, because the first words that came out of his mouth to the class raised a wave of utter dissatisfaction.

“Hey there, guys! Happy to finally leave your miserable countries behind and be in the greatest nation in the world?” The conversation didn’t get any better after that, and Alois was sure that whatever happened, he’d never set foot in that bar called Shooters.

After class, he was chatting animatedly with Arjun as they headed back to their dorm.

“I’d love to know what that illiterate would do if he knew he was talking to future doctors, engineers, journalists… while he’s gonna spend the rest of his life working in a bar serving people like him,” Alois commented.

“Probably nothing would change. People like him always think they’re superior just because of how they look and because they were born here in the States. Doesn’t matter if they live in a trailer and rely on government assistance.”

“True, ahhh, I want a coffee; I spilled mine all over this morning. Do you want one too?” Alois asked as they passed by his favorite coffee shop again.

“No, I’m good. I’ll go ahead; we’ll catch up later,” Arjun replied, continuing on while Alois entered the coffee shop. After carefully getting his to-go coffee to avoid a repeat of that morning’s fiasco, he turned and headed to the exit when he heard the synthetic chords again, accompanied by that familiar lyric.

“Don't take these beautiful things that I've got…”

This time, he saw where the sound was coming from—a Latino guy a bit older than him was listening through those giant headphones. Feeling sure he wasn’t losing it, Alois allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief, only to get a major scare. In the blink of an eye, where the guy had been, now sat one of those big-mustached dudes, this one bigger and more muscular than the others, but with the same wavy hair and infamous mustache.

Alois was stunned, staring at the man, who in turn pointed a finger at him as if to assert something and gave him a smile that freaked the young guy out to his core.

Not knowing how to handle that situation, Alois bolted from the shop, trying to make sense of what he had seen. Still in shock, he entered the room he shared with Qian in the dorm, where his friend was sitting on his bed, fiddling with his phone, still dressed in the button-up shirt and khakis he wore to class.

“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I... I forgot... How bizarre, I'm sure it was important Qian! Qian? Is everything okay? Qian…? You good?” he asked, realizing his friend hadn’t heard a word he said, just to see his face contort and his eyes roll back as if he were convulsing, and then… puff. Right in front of him stood another member of the Mustache Gang, wavy hair, slick mustache, a chiseled face and a muscular body on display.

“You good??? Qian? Who the hell is Qian? I’m Ken, you foreigner dumbass.” Said the young man of Chinese descent, the irony of using that kind of comment not even crossing his arrogant and brutish mind. “You’re here only because I couldn’t score with an American ass. But a hole’s a hole…”

“I… what…?”

“You just accept a quick hookup on Grindr man, It's not that difficult. Gonna act all shy now? Here in America, that kind of behavior doesn’t fly. Either you do what you came to do or bounce, but then you'll miss out on all this,” the guy replied, flexing his powerful muscles while giving him an arrogant grin. Alois was thinking about where exactly he was and what he was doing there.

“So ginger, what's it gonna be?”

.....

When he got to the dorm for international students after getting his ass wrecked by the massive schlong of his Grindr hookup, who he discovered was co-manager of Shooters and Puff Palace alongside Chuck —those two even shared an apartment above the pub—he hated himself for getting into that mess just for a quick lay. Yet, at the same time, it was the best fuck he’d ever had. As he stripped down and got ready to shower and wash off the sweat and sex smell from his body, the distinct ping of a Grindr message caught his attention. Opening the app, he found a new message from Ken Lee.

“Hey ginger I think you’re gonna like this.” Ignoring all common sense, thinking it might be a nude, he clicked the link the other guy sent along with the message. Strangely enough, it was a clip from a podcast where a young woman interviewed a flamboyant man, who was wearing a bright and flashy suit, both chatting animatedly. Everything about them screamed obnoxious starting with their shrill voices that didn’t stop talking for a second. Losing interest and wondering why a guy like Ken would send that to him, Alois let the video play as he headed to the bathroom in the room he occupied alone in the dorm.

“… so, Benson Boone? He’s such a total hottie, girl!”

“Don’t even get me started, Yasmin! I melt for a guy like that! I’d do him in a heartbeat.”

“Me too, Nico! But with that whole Christian boy vibe, I’m not sure he’s got the moves.”

“Girl, it’s just marketing. A guy like that, with that body? And anyone rocking a mustache like that knows exactly what to do with a girl… or a man.”

“Nico you slut, I heard some rumors…”

“I know, girl! I wouldn’t doubt he’s hooked up with more than a few, after all, a man has his needs, and to a guy like him a hole’s a hole like my brother used to say”

“Oh, my brother always said the same thing. What’s going on that there aren’t any more men like him in America?”

“I’ll tell you, I don’t get it either. Everywhere I look, I only see snowflakes and wimps. They say they are our allies, but this talk about toxic masculinity has turned all of them into whiners. Of course I prefer not to be attacked in the street by a bunch of homophobes, but sometimes all we want is someone to fuck us senseless And no one does it like a good douchebag, and don't come to me with that talk that this is a white, cis man's thing, yada yada yada... all due respect to the cause, but we need more men like this hottie, not less. Real American men, who know what they want and make it happen, I don't care what they do with their lives as long as they fuck me right. So I vote for more douchebags, of all races, creeds and sexual orientations, sis!

“True, Nico! I wish I could make that happen…”

“Me too, girl, but how about we listen to his updated song while we wait for the real American men to come back?”

“Sure, girl, this version is way better and more danceable, perfect for a man to sweep me off my feet. Play it!”

Then, the chords that had been haunting Alois all day started playing, and he quickly turned on his way to the bathroom to stop the video—there’s no way he’d want to listen to that on his own.

“Mm. Please stay. I want you, I need you, oh God…”

As he turned towards the source of the sound, he froze, hearing it as a feeling of numbness invaded his head and took over his body, barely letting him take a step back before being flooded with memories and sensations that weren’t his. His childhood in Austria was being replaced by one in Virginia, time spent studying swapped for sports practice, the memory of a skinny physique giving way to a powerful, muscular body, atheism giving way to worship at church every Sunday, even if he spent most of the time distracted, checking out the girls present. And speaking of girls, nights of sex, just banging them in the ass to keep his virginity intact, and when a girl refused, there was always a twink willing to step in. After all hole’s a hole. Then there was the end of school five years ago and the move to Seattle, working as a personal trainer during the day and a bartender at Shooters at night, the apartment shared with Chuck and Ken, and all the possible and imaginable orgies they had . He knew that, as a good Christian, he’d eventually have to give it all up, settle down, and start a family, but until then, the single life was too good to pass up, and he was gonna enjoy it. And even after he gets married if the desire arises, well a man has his needs and one thing he has learned is that no one is a better bottom than a slut boy desperate for a fuck.

“No… no… what the hell…. This can’t be real…” Alois grumbled as he tried to move towards the phone that he now knew had to be the source of this whole bizarre situation. However, with every step he took, his muscles expanded. His skinny chest exploded into slabs of meat that are now pecs, below his abs form into six brick-like blocks, and his arms and legs thicken to a considerable size. His hair grew longer in well-kept waves, and that infamous mustache sprouted and grew on a more masculine and angular face. At the same time, the room he was in transformed, and he found himself on the other side of the city, in the place he had just left a little over 40 minutes ago.

When he got to the phone, Allen adjusted it, fixing the camera angle. That video was gonna be perfect for his TikTok, especially with that new version of Benson Boone’s song, one he’d used in a bunch of other videos, but this remix version was fire.

Fixing his hair and flexing his powerful muscles, he smiled at the camera.

“Yo, what’s up, fam? Today’s heavy lifting day and a wild night at Shooters. If anyone’s interested in what I’m packing here, just swing by or hit up the link to my OnlyFans in the bio. Only for the grown folks, are you really gonna miss out on this?” he wrapped up, crossing his arms in front of his body and flashing one of those grins at the camera.

“Damn, that looks so good!” he said, posting the video on TikTok and heading towards the living room of the apartment he shared with Chuck and Ken, not even bothering to shower. He had a new client coming to the gym in the next hour, so why waste time on more than one shower? “Tonight’s gonna be lit for sure, guys,” he said, talking to his roommates.

“Are you talking about the Indian skinny boy who’s training with you?”

“Ugh, definitely not. Dudes like him are for when there are no other options. But it wouldn’t be a Friday night if Big Al didn’t get some real action.!” He said grabbing his cock and balls over his shorts, laughing. "I can't wait to get some ass." He concludes while shaking his huge cock out of his shorts and making everyone burst out laughing.

“We’re all gonna get some, man. Chuck’s been spreading the word in an exchange class; soon, it’ll be packed with foreign slutty chicks and twinks looking for an American dick, and we can bang them all we want, Red.” Said Ken with a mischievous grin.

"And God bless that! "Chuck added beside him with an identical smile, which was also mirrored on Allen's face.

...

Allen was sitting on a bench in front of the gym, waiting for his new student, a scrawny Indian dude from the exchange program named Arjun.

“You coming, bro?”

“Sorry, I’m on my way. Got held up.”

“So, meet me in the gym locker room so we don’t waste time. In the meantime, check this out,” Allen said, sending the link to Yas and Nico podcast, she was a hot babe even if she seems as dumb as a rock. Not that he cared much about that at all; she was hot, and that was good enough for him, and that Nico had a very fuckable butt. He didn’t even stop to think about why he was sending that video; it just felt like something he should do.

.....

While he was chilling on a bench in the gym locker room, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, he didn’t notice the transformation happening to his student right behind him. The skinny Arjun was rapidly inflating with muscles and attitude without Allen even realizing it. It was only when he looked up and saw a dude of Indian descent with silky hair and the infamous mustache, wearing nothing but gym shorts, casually scratching his powerful pecs.

“Art, you still haven’t finished getting dressed, you asshole? We gotta workout, take some pics of our pump for OnlyFans and hit the bar shift afterwards.”

“Chill, Al, I’m getting ready. It’s not like your muscles are gonna disappear because of a five minute delay in your workout.”

“Five minutes is already too much,” he replied, flexing his arms and smiling arrogantly. “Tonight, I want the max pump in these Beautiful Things I’ve got.”

#occam2000 #male tf #mind change #reality change #jockification #mental transformation #corruption #musclegrowth #gay to bi #douchebag tf #my story

184 notes · View notes