#the way the he scoot over lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rueclfer · 4 months ago

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shut up, my moms calling // touya todoroki pt two

a/n: req from one of yall who sent in multiple prompts a lil bit ago!!! hi anon i hope u see this <3 also not to be lazy but i'm gonna piggyback this req off of this touya fic of mine as a pt 2 to save myself the contextualizing.. so read that one too lmao.

also i def got ambitious and FAR from the req but i still hope you enjoyed heh..

"Scoot over, Touya, you're taking up the entire bed." You huff, actively elbowing him in the chest.

"You mean my bed?" He whines. "This is why I never want to share the bed with you. You're a blanket AND pillow hog, and I always get shoved all the way to the edge.

"Get your ass on the floor then." You shove him harder, in which he retaliates by grabbing your wrists.

"I always sleep on the fucking floor. Either you deal with sharing a bed, or you take the floor this time."

"So annoying." You mutter under your breath, wriggling out of his grasp and accepting your defeat.

It was nearly 2am and you two had not seen each other all day, which resulted in him being clingier than usual, of course. Touya would never admit it, but you had him all figured out. Quality time may be his top love language, but when that love-tank is low, he immediately defaults to physical touch, making it nearly impossible for you to get away from him if you really wanted to,

After much adjustments, you two silently settled on a position where your face was pressed against his chest, facing each other with your arms wrapped around one another and legs intertwined.

"Can you breathe?" He mutters against your forehead.

"Mmhm." You sigh against his chest in content. "You're so warm and you don't smell like shit for once."

"Stop talking." He hums, letting himself run his hand through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp.

You could melt at this moment. With your fingers drawing circles on his back paired with his own in your hair, you could feel yourself savoring this moment forever, locking it in your memories.

It had been a couple of weeks since you two exchanged your first kisses at the river, and not a single word about it had been uttered about it since. There was no way to bring it up to him again without feeling awkward, but it had plagued your mind everyday- multiple times a day. If you could slap yourself across the face every time you let the memory fluster you, you would. After all, your friendship continued as if nothing happened.

"Did Fuyumi tell you?" You whisper, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Tell me what?" His eyes remain closed.

"That Keigo kid asked me out the other day."

His eyes pop open and meet yours. All motion stops. He snakes his hand from your scalp to grab your shoulder and leans back to get a better view of your face.

"The fuck? Keigo? The other day?"

You nod your head in response.

"Why the hell did you tell Fuyumi before me?" His eyebrows furrow.

"I don't know! Keep your voice down." You hush. "It was a girl thing." You shrug.

"A girl thing..." He rolls his eyes. "And what did you tell him?"

You nervously fiddle with the back of his shirt, piling it in fistfuls.

"I said I would get back to him about it." You nervously chuckle. "Is that bad? It caught me off guard so I didn't know what to say."

He huffs out a chuckle before closing the space between you two again, moving his hand to your lower back and tracing a finger against the skin exposed by your shirt lifting

"Good. Tell him it's a no next time you see him."

"What? But what if it's a yes?"

"It's not. He's an asshole and an idiot." He yawns into your hairline, and rubs his cheek against your forehead.

You pinch the skin on his waist, bringing his attention back to you. "You don't get to decide that for me, dipshit."

"Never in a million years will he fucking deserve you, Y/N. Fuyumi probably told you the same thing." He returns the pinch, pulling back once again.

He was right. She did in fact tell you the same exact thing.

"Sounds like you're just jealous. What, one kiss and all of the sudden you're in love with me?" You tease. "Can't handle seeing me with another guy?"

You didn't know what you were doing, or how those words slipped off your tongue. You bit your cheeks in regret the moment you felt his body stiffen against yours.

"Jealous? As fucking if. I'm just being a good best friend. Do what you want, but if he breaks your heart then don't come back crying to me."

Just like that, he easily averted the mention of your kiss- which of course annoyed you.

"Fine. Let me actually text him right now. Maybe as my bestest friend ever, you can help me draft it." You feel around under your pillow for your phone.

You open your text chain with Keigo, hovering your thumbs over the keyboard. "Alright let's see." You began reading out loud as you type. "Hey Keigo, thought about it, and I think you're really sweet and so sexy and would love to-"

Before you could continue, Touya slaps the phone out of your hand, letting it hit the ground behind him with a harsh thud.

"Touya!" You scold after a loud gasp of shock.

You shove him hard onto his back, swinging a leg over him in order to reach down and attempt to retrieve your phone from the other side of the bed. You couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction from this obvious outburst of jealousy. Maybe in some sense, it validated the thread of tension hanging between you two that he had seemingly been ignoring.

"I knew it, you jealous fuckin-" You start before the bedroom door swings open, causing you to duct down under the covers.

"Touya? Y/N? Are you guys okay in there? I heard someth-" Rei begins, stopping the moment she sees the abandoned floor mattress next to the bed and your silhouette straddling Touya.

"Mom!" Touya whines, nearly shoving you off of him to jump out of bed. "Knock next time, please." He huffs as he bends down to pick up your phone, tossing it on the bed next to you.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry guys." She covers her mouth in shock.

Rei flips on the light switch and audibly releases a sigh of relief to confirm that you two were indeed still fully clothed.

"Do you guys....have... you know." She begins, stammering over her words. "Are you guys being safe? You know, I don't care what you do as long as you're both safe, okay? Also, please be a little quieter. I know it's a weekend, but everyone is sleeping."

Your eyes widen in horror after grasping onto what she was insinuating. You smash your face into the comforter in embarrassment.

"Rei, I promise you we weren't..." You pop your head up and wave your hands out in denial. "We were just talking and Touya just.." You motion to him. "Tell her, dumbass!" You throw a pillow at him.

"We are not having sex, mom. Y/N's just being stupid." He presses his lips together in a tight line. "But we will use protection if we do. Thanks."

"Oh my god, but we're not going to." You quickly quip in. "I promise we'll keep it down. So sorry for waking you."

You wanted to melt into the floor and disintegrate all together. You shove your face in your hands to hide your humiliation. Your body was hot all over and were suddenly sweating through your pajama shirt.

"Great! Alright then. We'll talk more in the morning." She nervously chuckles. "Goodnight guys, and please keep it down."

The moment the door clicks shut, you turn and slap his shoulder.

"What the fuck?!" You whisper-yell. "But we will use protection if we do? Are you insane? I can never sleep over again, that was so embarrassing." You cry.

"Chill out, it's fine." He laughs, picking up the thrown pillows off of the floor. "Embarrassing yeah, but would you be surprised if I told you that wasn't the first time she tried giving me the talk? About you specifically? At least you don't have to hear that shit."

"About me?!" You exclaim. "Shut the fuck up, no way?"

Touya settles back into bed on his back with his hands behind his head while you sit criss-crossed right next to him, cooling down from the embarrassment.

"Mmhm. Like twice already." He nods his head.

"Does she know that we're not dating or anything?" You cock an eyebrow. "She definitely knows that, right?"

"Well yeah, no shit." He shoots you a sideways glance. "But you don't have to be dating to...do all that."

"What does she say about me?"

"I don't know, of a whole bunch of bullshit I already know?" He begins tapping his fingers on your knee. "Like 'oh, Touya, Y/N's really sweet and we love them, but you have to treat them nice and I know teenage feelings are complicated, but if you really like them and want to ever do anything more, just have really good communication and practice safe sex. Always!"

"Rei has such a way with words." You say through gritted teeth, finally laying down besides him, both now looking up at the glow in the dark stars plastered on the ceiling.

"Yeah, so if you ever wanted to do another 'science experiment,' she got us condoms. It's in the first drawer on the nightstand next to you."

Your jaw drops and you slap a hand over to cover your gaping mouth. The heat returns to your face.

"She did not." You choke out, snapping your head towards him.

"She did." He chuckles. "I told her you literally just got your first kiss and didn't think you would need them anytime soon, but ya know she likes to be careful I guess."

"Wait, you told her we kissed?"

You scooted closer to Touya, now looking at him on your side while he remained on his back looking upwards.

"Mom-senses are kinda scary. When you left the next day, she said we were acting weird and grilled it outta me." He shrugs. "I was honest. Guess that's what triggered this safe sex bullshit."

"God dammit, Touya. So she 100% thinks we're together." You press your lips together.

"You act like that's the worst thing in the world." He shoots you a side glance. You said nothing.

Since that night, you often thought about the possibility of being "more than friends" with Touya, but you couldn't help but shake off the lingering thought that maybe the "science experiment" of a kiss was all that it was for him- nothing but an experiment. You weren't too sure what to do with the possibility that it was something more meaningful for you in that case.

"Anyways, she probably has her own thoughts and opinions, but I told her we're not."

"I see." You mutter. "What are your thoughts and opinions?"

"About... being together? Like that?" He glances over to you.

"Keigo asking me out, the kiss, and your mom thinking we're together and stuff, everything in between."

You watch his face carefully as he takes a second to think about his answers. You see the gears turning in his head, but not quite sure what would come out of his mouth.

"You first." He quickly spits out.

You deadpan. "You know what? Nevermind. Goodnight, dipshit." You turn around, facing away from him and pull the covers up to your chin.

"Okay okay okay, come back. I'll spill my heart out for you if that's what you really wanna hear at 2am right now." You could hear the annoyance in his voice, bringing a smile back to your face.

You cheerily turn back around to see him back on his side, facing you now.

"Perfect. Go on." You say, shoving your leg in between his own.

"So Keigo." He starts.

"Mmhm."

"Annoys the living shit out of me. Genuinely. And I'd hate to see you waste your time on that sorry motherfucker, but if you actually do like him, which I don't see how, do what you want. I come first though, don't forget it. Best friend priorities."

"See, I knew you were jealous." You smile. "I don't think I was considering it anyways, but nice to hear your big boy thoughts about it, you cutiepie."

"That's what I thought. Why the fuck would you need him when you have me?" He smirks.

You roll your eyes. "Okay, now tell me how you feel about your mom thinking we're bonking."

"Idiot." He chuckles. "I don't really give a fuck about what she thinks? We got free condoms- use them, don't use them, take some for Keigo if you ever wanted to do some charity work, I don't care, but she can think what she wants to think."

"What about your thoughts on us being together?" You mutter. "Like hypothetically just to humor her suspicions."

He stops and stares at you for a second, biting his bottom lip as he thinks.

"Uh. Let me get back to you about that one."

You wave it off. "Okay fine, so then the kiss."

"I want you to go first for that, and you can't get mad at me because the kiss was for you... mostly."

You hesitated for a moment, sighing in place of an answer. You weren't quite sure how much, if any, information to reveal about your true feelings about it all. "The kiss... was... definitely a kiss?" You breathe out awkwardly "It was nice. Really nice. And I enjoyed it."

"Okay. Ditto and ditto." He nods, motioning for you to continue.

"And I don't necessarily know what this means, but I think about it a lot. Like. A lot." You emphasize. "I don't know, maybe it means nothing."

"Okay...so you wanna do it again?"

It seemed like your brain short circuited for a moment.

"Hah?" You blink.

"Well, I think about it a lot too. And I also don't really know what that means or how to feel about it, so maybe... we can do it for science again...a 2.0?" You hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Like do it again to confirm our final thoughts?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Yup."

"I see."

"Only if you want. I don't really care either way. Up to you." He quips. "I just.. am confused."

You roll your eyes. "Don't even try to act so nonchalant when you're the one asking for me to kiss your stupid ass again. You want me so bad." You joke to alleviate the thick fog of tension filling the room.

"Yeah, want you to shut the fuck up." He mutters in an annoyed tone. "Yes or no."

"Yes, fine." You squeak out, tensing when his hand meets your cheek. "I guess it would be good.. for science."

"Okay cool." He huffs. "Relax." He says under his breath, pulling you in closer to him. "We know what we're doing now, don't we?"

You reciprocate his movements, letting your hand rest against the side of his face, swiping your thumb back and forth on the skin under his eye.

"I'm nervous." You whisper, glancing back and forth between his lips and eyes.

The tip of your noses were grazing each other's, and lips just mere inches from meeting.

"Still? Well don't be. It's just me." He lightly rubs his nose against your own, eyes glued on your lips, and occasionally glances back up to meet your eyes. "And we've done this before, remember?"

He stares at you through a beat of silence and drags a thumb across your bottom lip. "Don't freak out."

He closes the gap between you two before you could respond, instantly melting under his touch.

Compared to your first kiss together, this one felt hotter, needier, and more desperate from the way he pulled you even closer to his body by the waist and locked your legs in between his own, as if you were in for the devouring.

You were tense, but feeling his hand tenderly cup your cheek made you feel a bit more secure, letting yourself lean deeper into the kiss.

Chills ran up your spine the moment his other hand met the exposed skin lower back, playing with the hem of your tee shirt.

"Is that okay?" He asks against your lips, letting his fingers start to crawl up under the fabric.

You nod your head in silence as your stomach erupts in flutters and flames, heightening every sensation of him exploring your bare skin.

"This is where you're the most ticklish." He smiles against your lips, moving his hand up the curve of your waist.

"This is where I kicked you on the swing set when we were 13." Rubbing the soft space between your shoulder blades, pecking your lips in between words. "Sorry, by the way."

"I forgive you." Your breath out a laugh before pressing your lips back to his.

"And you have a freckle right here." He grips the space where your spine meets your neck.

"How do you know that?"

"I'm observant."

Your own hand makes its way to the back of his head from his cheek. Your fingers become entangled with the hair on the nape of his neck, lightly twirling a lock between your pointer and thumb. You tug on the silvery locks, gifting you a throaty, hungry groan from him.

You snap back in shock, meeting his own set of wide eyes.

"Okay let's stop there." He coughs, snaking his arm back from under your shirt and turning on his back to dart his eyes away from your own.

You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your nervous laughter after you ground yourself back to reality.

"Shut up." He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"Sorry. That good, huh?"

"No shit." He huffs, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Anyways, back to the point, horn-dog." He faces you.

You were lucky the only source of light was the haze of moonlight shining through the window on the other side of the room. If there was any more light, you were sure he would be able to see your embarrassingly flushed face.

"Right, the point." You cough. "So... thoughts?"

"You want me to be real with you?"

"Duh."

"I don't know who you've been practicing on for these past couple of weeks, but that was good. So much better than the first time- not saying you did a shit job, but yeah a lot better."

You blush at the half-assed compliment and bring your hand up to his forehead to flick him right between the eyes. "The other thoughts, dumbass. How do you feel?"

"I'm not sure if I want to say...yet." He continues, gauging your reaction.

"What?" You groan. "You said you'd be real with me."

"Well, what do you think I'll say? Or hoping?" He cocks an eyebrow.

That it feels real. That you want me as much as I want you. That this won't change anything between us. That this isn't a science experiment. That you're in love with me.

"I don't know." You shrug. "I guess I just want to know if I could ever be relationship material? Like after the kiss and knowing me, am I hopeless or what?"

"That's why you asked about us hypothetically being together?"

"Uh, yes?" You bit down on your bottom lip.

"Oh." He mumbled, shifting awkwardly.

A beat of silence passes while he thinks for a moment.

"I think that Keigo might be the smartest fucker out there right now. It pains me to see you act like a lovesick puppy for people who don't see how cool and great and how much of a catch you are and I'm sorry that Keigo just so happens to be someone that does." He sighs.

"Actually, scratch that." He continues. "I'm the smartest fucker out there. I've been known how fucking great you are." He laughs. "Yeah fuck Keigo. He's has good taste, but fuck him because I've been doing it first."

You chuckle a bit, your heart swelling at the turn-around of a compliment. "Yeah, but at least he likes me-like me. Enough to ask me out."

Touya goes quiet, lips pressed together in a tight line.

"Well to answer your question fully, I think my mom is onto something."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Like if I could've been better at communication, then we would've been together a long time ago."

"As in..." You start, waiting for him to continue as the air is sucked out of your lungs.

"As in, I like you-like you."

"You like me-like me... as in have feelings for me?" You draw out, staring at him in shock.

He nods in response.

"Since the first time we kissed?"

"Since the first time we met, actually."

Your mouth gapes open with no words coming out, digesting this sudden confession.

"You're fucking with me right now?" You whisper, clutching onto fistfuls of the comforter.

"I wish, but I'm not." He sighs, reaching a finger up to push a stray hair behind your ear. "I wasn't going to say anything, but you're such a dumbass who always talks down on yourself and it makes me sick. You have to know that there is at least one person in this world who would burn everything else down if it was your happiness on the line. I really fucking like you and I'd rather die than let that ruin our friendship, okay?"

In this moment, both of you were holding your own breaths, not quite sure if any sudden movement might burst this moment between you. Touya inherently knew it was time to tell you how he felt and that he couldn't go the rest of his life scaring away potential lovers while being terrified to claim the position himself. You, on the other hand, agreed that if anything did jeopardize your relationship with him, you wouldn't forgive yourself.

"I'm scared. I don't want to ruin our friendship either." You choke out with tears beginning to flood your eyes, causing his own to widen in panic.

"Hey whoa, what are you crying for?" He scoots in closer to you, holding you against his chest. "Seriously Y/N, I tell you I like you, and you start crying? God, just call me a piece of shit already." He chuckles, wrapping his arm around you.

"It's not that." You muffled into his now tear stained shirt. "It's that I like you too and I don't know what to do about it, but I don't want to ruin us or risk anything that will."

He takes a sharp intake of air, and continues to rub circles against your back.

"Well, I'll have you as much as you'll give me. Don't worry about it, okay? I love you- as my closest friend, favorite human being, my other half. All of it."

"What do we do?" You whisper, looking up at him.

"Uhh...sleep and talk about it tomorrow? Sit on it?"

"You think I can fucking sleep now?" You whine. "What's wrong with you?"

"You're cute." He smiles, moving his hand from your back to your cheek, rubbing away the dampness of the tears. "Alright then you tell me, what do we do? The ball is in your court."

"What would it look like if we started dating?" You asked.

"Exactly this? More kissing? Putting those condoms to use?"

You slap his shoulder. "Fucking idiot."

"Okay. Then, what if we don't start dating?" You huff, your face burning now.

"Same thing maybe? Less kissing? Condoms collecting dust?" He shrugs. "I guess I'll keep taking the floor for sleepovers?"

"You're not going to try to go out with anyone else?"

"I'll just wait for you."

You pout at the simple tenderness of his answer. You wanted to stay like this forever- close to him, the warmth of his body radiating into your own, your hands all over each other. You knew that it was possible too. To stay here.

"I think, maybe we can do it." You finalize. "Or try to, at least."

"Really?" He tips your chin upwards to meet his surprised eyes. "You really want to try?"

"I do. I'm scared, and I think you are too so if we put our fears together, we can't fuck this up, right?" You nervously joke. "For the sake of Rei too. Let's prove her right."

He leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead, simultaneously reaching over to your hand and locking his pinky in with yours, solidifying an unspoken promise to one another.

I love you. You're my best friend. You're my other half. We'll always try.

#im sorry i can never write anything casually #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha #touya todoroki x reader #todoroki touya #touya todoroki #dabi #dabixreader #dabi x reader #mha dabi #dabi todoroki

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moonstruckme · 1 month ago

Note

Hi! This is my first time ever sending a request before, so bear with me. I was hoping you could do a best friend! James with no boundaries where he and female reader are cuddling and somehow end up fucking lol. Like. They both see it as simply helping each other out as best friends do, but the way they speaking and actions is obviously saying otherwise. Either reader or James (I don’t mind) would be super comforting and praising the other, and caressing their waist absentmindedly. It’s been on my mind for says now and I just had to ask LMAO.

Thanks for requesting!

cw: smut mdni, "casual" sex with no feelings talk (sorry), oral (f receiving), p in v

bestfriend!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.9k words

You’d never be watching this series if it weren’t for James. It’s science fiction, a low production budget met with poorly written lines, but your deceptively nerdy best friend gobbles it all up without reservations. You’re three seasons deep and losing interest fast, half asleep during the big battle scene.

James is running his thumb absently over your arm, not really helping matters. His shoulder is warm and the material of his shirt soft under your cheek, your legs curled up against his thigh. There’s a bone-deep contentedness and a slow, oozing warmth that make your eyes slip closed.

“Are you asleep?” James' voice is soft, not meant to really rouse you if you are.

You crack your eyelids to find you’ve slipped halfway down his bicep. “No,” you mumble.

“Mm, I didn’t think so.” He gives your arm a playful squeeze. “I said to myself, ‘Sleep through the season finale of our favorite show? No, she’d never do that.’”

“And you were right.” You sit up, your neck aching from the cruel angle. Scoot closer to him. “I would never do that.”

“That would be ridiculous.” James’ voice is warm with amusement and affection. He adjusts his grip on you, helping you to get closer and more upright. Your entire side is pressed up against his. “And during the big battle scene, too.”

You wind your arms around his middle, feeling the familiar ridges of muscles beneath his shirt. “Yeah, doesn’t sound like me.” You shuffle your legs closer to him. Until your thigh is almost entirely in his lap, until you brush up against something you shouldn’t. James tenses.

“Oh.” You retract your leg quickly.

James brings his own leg closer to his bulge, and you look up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” James looks pained.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.” A little laugh gusts out of him. “No, sweetheart, you’re alright. I’m just a bit embarrassed.”

You shake your head, eager to absolve him. “Don’t worry about it.”

But it’s impossible to ignore the ache that discovering his erection has started between your own legs. The slow, oozing warmth you’d felt before and thought nothing of is now much more obvious.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” James says. “It’s just that we’re cuddling, and it’s been a while, so—”

“James. It’s really fine.”

He gives you an imploring look. “Promise you don’t feel weird about it?”

“Yeah,” you say, lifting one shoulder awkwardly. “It’s…I get it.”

You hoped that would be enough for him, but you should have known better than to expect James to drop it after you’ve said something like that.

“You do?” he asks. Surprised, curious.

“I…yeah.” You try to keep your tone blasé, though you can’t look at him. You’re not about to admit to the wetness you can feel pooling in your underwear. “I mean, it’s been a while for me too. The cuddling is nice.”

“Yeah?” James looks at you, and you feel the touch of it everywhere.

You rub your lips together. “Yeah.”

“Well, if it doesn’t bother you, we could keep on, then.” James relaxes back into the couch, your arms having never moved from around him. His arm settles over your shoulders again. But you can’t stop looking at the bulge in his pants. Large and insistent and mere inches from your thigh.

“We could…” Your voice is soft, part of you maybe hoping he won’t hear you. “We could always help each other out.”

James stays perfectly still underneath you. “Is that something you want?”

“If you do.”

Your voice is tight with nerves. James’ thumb begins sweeping over your upper arm again, comforting you on instinct.

“Hey,” he says lightly, “don’t make any sacrifices on my account.”

You huff a laugh. “I’m not.”

He sits up, looking at you. “Okay.”

“It can be totally casual,” you say quickly. “We don’t ever have to talk about it again.”

“Are you sure you want to?”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you nod.

“Alright.” James’ big hands soothe up and down your arms. He considers you. “How do you want it?”

“Wh…what do you mean?”

He smiles. “I mean, did you have something in mind?”

“Oh.” Your brain is all staticy. “Um, not really. Whatever you want.”

James gives you another easy perusal. You try not to shiver, more than used to his complete lack of self-consciousness but unfamiliar with the heady feel it takes on in this context. Slowly, intention solidifies in his gaze. He takes off his glasses, placing them on the coffee table.

“Tell me if I do anything you don’t want, yeah?”

You barely have time to squeak out an okay before he’s pulling down your trousers and your underwear with it. He takes one leg in each hand and spreads them open, exposing the slickness between.

“Oh.” There’s an edge of teasing to his sympathetic tone as he dips down to kiss beside the source. “Oh, poor girl. Seems like it really has been a while.”

You gasp out a laugh, nerves frenzied at the spectacular oddity of James’ mouth on your inner thigh. “Get fucked.”

“Ladies first.” You nearly whimper when his breath fans over your cunt. “By the looks of it you need it more anyway.”

You can’t muster a retaliation, but James doesn’t seem to hold it against you. He presses a soft, gentle kiss to your sex, getting a feel for it before diving in. You cry out and fist a hand in the mop of his curls, and James takes the outside of your thigh in his hand, giving the flesh an approving squeeze.

“You’re actually quite lovely down here,” he mumbles conversationally, whilst alternating his attention between your hole and your clit like he’s sampling a buffet, “in case you didn’t know.”

“Thanks,” you pant.

“S’very nice.” His nose bumps up through your folds, and you make a pleady, wanton sound, pushing your hips up into him.

“How…” You’re breathless, struggling to think through the buzz of your brain. “How is this helping you?”

James laughs. You nearly scream at the rumbling feel of it inside of you. “Oh, it’s helping me, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

“I—I—” Fuck, coherent speech is harder than it’s ever been. “I changed my mind.”

Immediately, James stops. He looks up at you, brown eyes almost all black and glistening with arousal from nose to chin. “You have?”

You nod, panting. “Yeah. I know what I want.”

His expression relaxes. “Oh. What’s that?”

“I want you.” It feels like blasphemy to say. You’re half worried that James is going to laugh at you, back away, say that all of this was fine but now you’ve taken things too far. “In me.”

James smiles. There’s no teasing in it, only eagerness and a pleasant sort of surprise.

“Well,” he says, “it’s a good thing we’ve started here then, but I’m still not sure if you’re ready for me.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Oh, get over yourself.”

“Oi,” James gives your thigh a squeeze, “don’t be mean. I’m serious.”

You give him a deadpan look. You know James is big. He’s a big guy in general, and you’ve seen him in his boxers, slept pressed up against him. Still, you can’t imagine it’s that imposing.

“I think I can handle it.”

James sucks on his bottom lip. “Okay,” he says after a moment, “we can give it a try, but don’t be shy about telling me if it’s too much, alright?”

You scoff. “I won’t.”

He chuckles at you as sits up on his knees, undoing his trousers. “Just don’t be a martyr, babe.”

“You’re so full of it.”

But as he does away with his boxers and his length springs free, your confidence wavers. James lowers himself over you, watching you carefully as he lays down with his forearms bracketing your head.

“This alright for you?” he asks, voice gentling some. You nod, but he doesn’t move, studying you. “You’re okay?”

You swallow, finding your voice. “Yeah.”

“You sure? We don’t have to.”

“No, I want to.” You say it in a rush, but as soon as it comes out you realize how true it is. “I want to.”

James must see the sincerity of it in your face, because he nods. “Okay.” He brushes his cock up through your folds, and you take a surprised inhale. It feels like a caress. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

He pushes into you slowly, his own face tightening while he keeps a close eye on yours. You let your eyes flutter shut, your legs falling further open for him. A low, needy sound rises in your throat.

When James pauses, you almost cry. “Keep going,” you tell him.

“Fine, fine, take it easy.” The amusement is easy to hear in his voice, as is something else, something warmer and sweeter. “I only wanted to check in on you. You’re taking it so well, sweetheart.”

One of his hands finds your waist as he goes deeper, big palm moving up and down your side, an absentminded comfort. You relax at the touch, and it’s what he needs. James bottoms out inside of you.

You don’t have time to adjust to the feel of it before his mouth falls down onto yours, warm and soft and tasting of sex. You moan softly, and James encourages your bottom lip into his mouth, suckling devoutly like he had at your clit. After a few seconds, he breaks the kiss as if nothing happened. As if it’s something you do every day.

“You look so pretty like this,” he says, caressing your cheek. “I wish you could see. Does that feel good, lovely?”

Ridiculously, you’re so focussed on his hand on your face that it takes you a second to remember he’s talking about his cock.

“Yeah,” you say honestly. “Feels really good.”

“Good.” He starts rocking his hips back and forth, an easy, gentle pace. His lips find your neck, parting wetly over your skin. “You feel so good, sweetheart. So perfect for me.”

You realize when his chin brushes your collar that you’re still wearing your shirt, which feels bizarre. Then you wonder when not wearing a shirt around James began to feel like the only logical option.

You lose your train of thought quickly when his hand slips underneath it again, soothing up and down your side as he moves in and out of you. He sucks bruises that feel like blessings into your skin, holds one of your hands in his own, groans when your fingernails dig into his shoulder.

You breathe his name, and he says yours in between kisses, along with sweetheart and darling and my pretty girl. His voice is familiar, safe and warm, but the peaceful spell he’s putting you under isn’t something you can explain. His body fits to you like it’s what you were both made for.

You sigh when it’s over, pulling James down and letting him melt into you. You don’t pretend you came like you have with other guys, but you feel more satisfied than you ever have.

You cup his face in your hand, and he turns his head, kissing your palm. Your brain feels like soup.

“So.” Your voice comes out a whisper. “Did that help?”

James’ laughter is deep and warm. “Yeah, lots. What about you?”

“Mhm.”

He watches you for a while, playing with your fingers in his. It’s not a dubious look, only happy. Fond.

A sound effect from the television gets your attention, and you turn to look at it. “We missed the season finale,” you say weakly.

“Yeah.” James doesn’t move his eyes from you. “We’re going to have to rewind and watch it from the beginning, I think.”

“Oh, awesome. Can’t wait.”

686 notes · View notes

httpdwaekki · 16 days ago

Text

massage | l.m. - s.c. - h.h. - y.j.

summary: you're sore and stressed but luckily your boy is there to help. collab w/ @giddyfatherchris <3

wc | ss: 5.4k | 5

warnings: fem! reader, use of noona (jeongin), nudity (not sexual), descriptions of pain, definitely typos bc i wrote most of these a long time ago, probably more but you get the generally consensus.

a/n: i would like to give ilya a formal apology for how long it took me to write these, truly an egregious amount of time LMAO. but she never rushed me once and i love n appreciate that more than she knows. also made these way longer than they needed to be but, anyway! i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3. (also sorry if the writing style feels different for some, i wrote these months apart so it might get weird lol)

please consider donating to this fundraiser!

part 1 | my library

banners by cafekitsune

(photos are not mine! credit to owners!)

minho

wc: 1.5k | ss: 1

you didn’t argue it further knowing it was futile.

he wraps an arm around your waist as you both say your goodbyes, helping you walk back to the car. you were both spending the day with his members, chan had found a new trail he wanted to explore, inviting all the members and you to tag along.

about half way into the trail your ankle started to flare up, causing you to start limping. it was an old injury that just didn’t heal correctly so being on it for long periods of time causes pain as well as swelling. you tried to hide it because you were having a good time but minho clocked it almost immediately.

once you were sat in the car, minho rounded the car, popping the trunk of the car to grab something. he opens the door, sitting while placing a bag in your lap before starting the car. “what’s this?” you asked softly, opening the bag.

“i figured your feet would hurt after walking for so long so i brought comfier shoes for you.” he explains as you pull out your crocs and a pair of soft socks. you stick out your bottom lip, heart warming from the kind gesture. you kick your old shoes off, replacing them with the softer pair, placing the old ones back in the bag.

“thank you 자기야.” leaning over, giving him a kiss on his slightly pink cheek, settling back in your chair. he smiles, putting the car in gear before grabbing your hand, looking into your eyes as he places a kiss to the back of it. “anything for you.” he whispers against your skin, dropping your joined hands in his lap before taking his foot off the brake.

the ride home was silent beside the music softly playing in the background as minho drove. you leaned towards him, hissing as your ankle and foot began to feel tender. he squeezes your hand, placing a kiss to it, rubbing soothing circles to the back of it.

“we’ll be home soon 야기.” you nod, trying not to think about the throbbing pain, focusing more on the passing landscape.

soon the car pulls up to your shared apartment, luckily there was an open spot in front of your building. you unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the door handle, letting go of his hand before he grabs it again. you pause, looking at him confused, “what’s wrong?” you ask softly.

“just wait a second, let me help you.” he waits for a response, big eyes staring into yours. you nod, allowing him to help. he smiles, placing one last kiss to the back of your hand before unbuckling, making his way to your side.

he opens the door, pointing to the bag by your feet, “let me take that first.” you hand it over before carefully scooting to the edge of the seat. he puts the bag on his back before reaching down for you.

you take his hands, planting your feet on the ground, hissing at the slight pressure you put on the sore appendage. “take your time, okay? don’t push it.” he says, rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand once more. you nod, taking a deep breath before carefully standing up.

he helps pull up the extra weight, helping you lean against him a bit once at your full height. once you move out of the way, you push the door closed as minho adjusted his grip on your waist.

“ready?” you nod, smiling as you slowly limp your way to your door, suddenly thankful you lived on the first floor. he quickly unlocks the door, placing the bag to the side before slipping off his shoes.

“do you need help?” he asks, pointing to your feet still in your crocs. you shake your head before holding onto his arm, slipping your feet out of the shoes cautiously. he helps you to your room where he sits you down on the bed before opening the closet.

“do you wanna take a shower now or later?” he asks, rummaging through clothes for something more comfortable for both of you to change into. you thought about it for a second, knowing you probably should, but just wanting to relax and stay off your foot.

“i’ll shower a little later, once it starts feeling better.” you respond as he walks over with two sets of clothes in hand. he places yours down next to you, “do you want help getting changed?” you nod your head before answering, “maybe with the shorts, please.” you smiled up at him.

“of course 야기.” he says, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead while reaching for your shorts. he taps your thigh, then his shoulder, causing you to stand up, balancing on his shoulder.

“i’m gonna unbutton these now, okay?” he asks, his fingers brushing the metal of your pants. you nod before he undoes the button, pulling down the zipper, sliding his hands into the fabric, pulling it down your legs.

you lift each leg to let him take the fabric off them, wincing as you put pressure on the hurt one. he kisses the leg of your hurt ankle, rubbing it softly as he tosses your pants to the side. he grabs the shorts on the edge of your bed, getting them ready for you to step in safely.

“ just one more time 자기야 .” he says, waiting for you to step into them. you adjust your grip on his shoulders one last time before stepping into it. you bite your lip in pain, as you slip the second leg into the fabric, letting him pull them up your legs completely.

he places a kiss to each thigh before you sit back down. “thank you, min.” you smile before he gets up, leaving a kiss on your lips as he goes. “anything for you, 야기.” he smiles back before grabbing his stack of clothes on the bed.“i’ll be right back okay?” you nod and watch as he walks into the bathroom not bothering to shut the door.

you slip off your shirt, replacing it with a softer, bigger one, throwing the old fabric in the same direction as your pants. you get up to walk (limp) your way to the kitchen to grab a cold compress before you relax.

you made it to the door before minho leaves the bathroom. “what do you think you’re doing?” he asks from the doorway, his hands full of medicine, lotions and wraps. “i’m going to get a cold compress from the freezer?” you ask in a small voice, feeling like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“sit back down before you make it worse please.” he scolds, pointing to the bed as best he could with full arms. “but i-” you cut yourself dramatically points to the bed once more. you sigh, shuffling your way back to the bed, where you sit down once more.

he walks over, setting everything down on the foot of the bed before gently grabbing your leg, slotting himself between them, placing the hurt one on his lap. he grabs the medicated lotion, lightly massaging the swollen area.

“oh that feels nice.” you sigh, sinking into the pillows behind you as he continues his work. he does that for a good 15 minutes, pausing when he hits a particularly sore spot before continuing with a softer touch.

you didn’t realize you had fallen asleep until he finishes wrapping up your foot and ankle, grabbing a pillow to place under it. “i’ll be right back love.” he whispers, placing a kiss to your hair before leaving the room.

he comes in a few moments later, with more supplies in hand. he places a water bottle, snack and medicine bottle on your bedside table before, carefully placing the compress to your ankle. he gently presses down, pulling a sigh from you as you feel the cold seep through the wrap.

he grabs the snack bar, opening it before handing it to you, who happily takes a bite out of the sweet bar. he opens the bottle of water, trading with you once you finish your snack. he watches you take a couple sips before opening the medicine bottle, holding out 2 pills for you.

you take them from him, putting them in your mouth as he grabs the trash to throw out. he enters the room once again with another water bottle, placing it next to yours.

he grabs a blanket carefully laying it on top of you before making his way to the other side of the bed. he turns on the show you’re watching together before settling in next to you, wrapping his arms around you.

“thank you for taking care of me, my love.” you whispering, leaning into him, placing a kiss to the arm closest to you. he tightens his arms around you, placing a kiss to your hair, “anything for you, 자기야 .” you smile, melting into him, where you both stay for the rest of the night.

changbin

wc: 1.1k | ss: 1

you weren’t technically lying, you were tired. you didn’t tell the whole truth either.

it was your fault, truly, you worked out yesterday, didn’t properly stretch and you certainly didn’t drink enough water after your workout. you were so worried about some work to finish up that you forgot about it.

so unfortunately this led to you getting a charley horse in not one, but both calves. you had woken up this morning, stretched and both of your calves immediately seized up. the pain was immediate and lasted for about a minute.

you probably should’ve told bin but, you didn’t feel like getting lectured on top of everything else you had going on. plus, he had enough going on, he didn’t need to worry about your silly little muscle cramp.

you were moving around-semi fine. it did hurt to walk and your legs feel super tight but it was nothing to worry about- and certainly not for changbin to stress over. that was short-lived however, as soon as he arrived at your apartment, he clocked you immediately.

“what did you do?” he asked as soon as you opened the door.

“what? no hi baby! how are you? how was your day?” you pouted. “all i get is a what did you do?” you said in your best bini impression. “yeah it is because you hurt my baby and not even you can get away with that.” he shot back.

you roll your eyes at his comment. “will you at least get inside before you chastise me.” you widen the door to allow him to pass. once inside, he sets his bag and keys down while kicking off his shoes.

“so?” he asks, looking at you. “i just got a charley horse bin, i’m fine.” you reassure him softly. you saw it in his face as soon as the words left your mouth.

you quickly raise your hand as he opens his mouth. “i know, i don’t want to hear bin please, i just want to lay down.” you say, feeling defeated and tired. “okay bunny.” he sighed, grabbing your hand, placing it around his waist before wrapping his arms around you.

you both stay there for a minute before bini pulls away, places a kiss on your cheek. “can i carry you to bed?” you nod before he picks you up bridal style, pulling a squeak from you in surprise. you quickly wrap your arms around his neck and he carries you to your room.

he carefully lays you down on your soft mattress before walking into your bathroom. he walks back out, massage oil and towel in his hand.

you move to sit up, giving him space, getting ready to give him a massage. but when you look up, he’s just staring at you, almost hurt.

“what are you doing?”

you tilt your head in confusion. “sitting up to give you a massage.” you say, eyes big as you look at him. he walks over to you shaking his head, “no bunny, lay back, i’m giving you one.” he sets the folded towel and oil at the edge of the bed before moving your leg to sit.

“but i told you i’d give you one.” you mumbled, your eyes following his movements. “did you really think i’d make you give me one when you’re clearly tired and hurting?” you look down as you realized how silly it sounded.

“baby,” he places a gentle hand to your cheek, forcing you to look at you. “why don’t you ever let me take care of you?” he asked, eyes filled with love and concern. you shrug, “i’m just not used to asking for or receiving it i guess.”

his thumb gently rubs the soft skin of your cheek, “will you let me take care of you please?” he asks softly.his thumb gently rubs the soft skin of your cheek, “will you let me take care of you please?” he asks softly.

you give him a small nod. “okay.” he smiles, leaning forward to cover your face in kisses, before you giggle, softly pushing him away. “binnie!” you squeak. “okay okay.” he giggles, backing away.

he goes to help you lay back but not before stealing one last kiss. you try to act annoyed but your smile gives you away. “do you want to watch frieren?” he asks as he helps you move your pillows and blanket to get comfy.

“yes please.” you reply, fixing the soft blanket he placed over you. he hands you the remote for the tv before sitting down, placing your legs atop his. he puts the towel under your legs before putting some of the oil in his hands, gently rubbing the tight muscle.

“let me know if it hurts okay?” you give him a quick nod and smile before pressing play, snuggling under the soft fabric. he adds a little more pressure, you let out a small noise, the muscle feeling tender.

he immediately stops, “are you okay?” you nod, giving him a reassuring smile. “it’s just tender, it feels good though.” he guy, understanding, continue his massage, a tad bit lighter.

you both stay like that for at least 20 minutes, binnie switching legs half way through. it only took a few of those twenty to drift off, not fully sleeping but definitely not conscious.

until binnie stopped his movements, gently wiping away the excess oil. you open your eyes and look down, admiring the sweet boy in front of you.

once finished with the task at hand he meets your eyes and pauses. you give him a sleepy smile before making grabby hands to him. he giggles, moving your legs, throwing the towel to side, carefully laying on top of you.

you wrap your arms around him as he places kisses all of your face, pulling giggles from you in the process.

he stops for a moment and admires you, “what?” you ask softly. he shakes his head, “you know i love you right? and i’ll always be here to take care of you.” he’s looking at you with so much love. you nod your head, bring one hand to his soft cheek.

“i know, baby, and you know the same goes for your right?” your thumb gently rubbing the skin as he nods. he quickly leans down, placing a loving kiss to your plush lips before rolling over, pulling you into his chest.

he pulls a blanket over both of you, letting you get comfy, handing you your plushie before wrapping his arms around you. “love you so much bunny, okay?” he reassures once more, placing a kiss to your temple.

you sink further into him, placing a kiss above his heart, “you love you too, my binnie, so much.”

hyunjin

wc: 1.3k | ss: 2

to say you felt overwhelmed was an understatement.

you knew hyunjin would do anything for you, he’d drop everything if you asked him too. however, you never did, always worrying about burdening or annoying him no matter how much you preached the opposite.

you were stressed out, in pain and on top of that feeling so guilty. because not only did you cancel on your boyfriend and his friends but now, you made your boyfriend also cancel on his friends.

so now here you were, sitting on your couch, still in your work clothes, tears streaming down your face as the guilt, stress and pain overwhelmed your senses.

so much so that you were unaware of said boyfriend using his key to enter your apartment.

he was immediately alarmed by the uneven breathing coming from your couch. he made quick work of discarding his shoes and bags before finding the source of the noise.

“hey, hey, angel what’s going on?”

he rounded the furniture as shot up, looking at him. “i’m sorry.” you sobbed, covering your face in the process. he quickly makes his way to you, kneeling in front of you, one hand on your head, thumb brushing your forehead.

second hand gently rubbing the arm closest to him. “hey, what’s going on, hm? what are you apologizing for?” you feel him rest his chin on your shoulder.

you shake your head slightly, feeling suffocated under all the negative emotions. “breathe baby, breathe.” he pulls your hands from your face in an attempt to help you breathe better.

“can you sit up for me?” he whispers, thumb still rubbing soothing circles on your forehead. you shake your head, “it hurts.” you whimper, turning to face him.

“your back?” you nod, unshed tears gather in your eyes. he leans forward, placing a kiss to your forehead. “okay, will you let me help you? i just wanna help you feel better but you gotta sit up okay?”

he can see the stress in your face, “it’ll be okay, okay? i promise. i just wanna get you to the bathroom so i can run you a bath okay?” you’d be lying if you said that didn’t sound divine.

you nod your head slightly, prompting him to give you a kiss before readjusting. “okay my baby, i’m gonna help you sit up before you stand okay?”

“okay.” you nod, already holding your breath in preparation. he gives you his arm to hold as you pull yourself up. he gives you a countdown before pulling you up, moving your legs to the side of the couch.

you hiss in pain as you finally sit up, “you did so good for me baby.” he places a kiss to your temple. he stands, putting a hand out for you to grab.

you prepare yourself to follow him, as you grab his hand, taking a deep breath before pulling yourself up, “ow.” you whimpered before stumbling into him.

he catches you before you can fall, bringing you into his arms. a few tears shed as the pain shoots through your lower back, gripping hyunjin’s hand, letting out a few labored breaths..

he rubs your back gently and your head. rests against him, trying to breathe through the pain. “you’re doing so good baby, you’re halfway there. let me know when you’re ready.” you nod your head, taking one last deep breath.

“okay, i’m ready” you mumble. he turns as you grab his arm to hold as you walk. you focus on your breathing the whole way to the bathroom before he helps you lean against the counter.

“do you think you can stay like this while i get the bath ready?” he asks, eyes filled with concern and worry. you nod, giving him a small smile, “thank you hyune.” you say, bringing a hand up to rub his cheek.

“anything for you my love.” he says before grabbing your hand, placing a kiss to your palm.

you watch as he sets up the bath, starting the water, making it as hot as he can take it before adding the epsom salt and bubbles. once everything was added he made his way over to you.

“i’m gonna help you undress okay?” you nod your head before carefully lifting your arms. he grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, tossing it to the side.

he reaches behind you, undoing the clasp to your bra, kissing each shoulder and he pulls the straps down. “my beautiful muse.” he hums, giving your bra the same fate as your shirt.

you shiver, feeling exposed but the movement once again made the pain shoot up your spine. “ah.” you hiss, taking a deep breath once more. “i know baby, i’m sorry. just a little longer.”

he makes quick work of unbuttoning your jeans, cautiously pulling them down each leg. once they were pulled down, he did the same with your underwear. “okay hold my shoulder while i take them off.”

once he feels your hands grip his shoulders, he taps one leg, prompting you to lift it. he does the same to the other leg before once again tossing the fabric aside.

“there we go, i’m gonna help you get in then i’ll join you okay?” you nod before grabbing his hands once more.

he helps you step in, holding you steady as you sit down. you let out a sigh of relief as the hot water soothed your spine. you lean back, hyune placing a kiss to your temple before leaving you.

he searches through your cabinet before grabbing the massage oil, placing it to the side of the tub. he quick undresses, as you slowly shift forward, giving him space behind you.

he shuts off the water before he steps in, carefully sitting behind you. you go to sit back before he stops you. “hold on baby, i’m gonna try and massage it a bit okay?”

you pout, “but that’s my job.” he shaked his head, dark hair swishing back and forth with it. “not today, today i’m here to make you feel better.” he says before putting some oil hands, warming it up a bit.

“can you lean forward a bit or does it hurt?” you slowly cross you legs before carefully leaning forward. you felt a slight stretch in your lower back, letting out a sigh. hyunjin’s hands lay against your back, thumbs rubbing soft circles.

“you okay baby?” you nod a bit. “i’m good.” you mumble, trying to relax a bit more. hyunjin’s hands glide across your back with ease, stopping at each knot, giving it extra attention.

you were basically falling asleep when he came across a particularly sore spot, a gasp from you. he immediately stops his hands, resting them on your back.

“i’m sorry, baby.” you shake your head. “it’s okay, just a little tender now.” he places his hands on your sides, pulling you back slightly, carefully bringing you to him.

you gently lay against his back, sighing as you feel the hot water surround you from the shift. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer, placing a kiss to the side of you head.

“i wish you would’ve told me it was this bad.” he mumbles into your ear, playing with the bubbles around you.

you lean your head against his, “i’m sorry.” you play with his fingers, stopping his movements in the bubbles. “you have so much going on and i didn’t wanna add to that.”

you felt his head shift next to you. “hey,” you turn your head to him, “no matter what i have going on, i wanna be there for you when you’re hurting okay?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, nodding your head. “promise?” he asks, taking his hand to grab yours, lacing your fingers together. “i promise.” you lean fully into him, basking in the moment.

once the water ran cold, hyunjin helped you out of the tub, and into some comfy clothes. once he got you settled in your bed with your heating pad, he ordered dinner before joining you in bed.

and that is how you stayed for the rest of the night (apart from hyunjin grabbing your food) wrapped in the arms of your favorite boy, feeling much better than before.

jeongin

wc: 1.3k | ss: 1

you were were getting ahead on some prep for your bakery when jeongin texted you. you started wrapping up the strawberries you prepped for the cheesecakes the next day, dating them before going to put them in the cooler.

but as you turned around, container of red fruit in hand, you felt a jolt of pain in your knee before it gave out. luckily you were close enough to the countertop you were able to set the fruits down safely before finding your footing.

you look down and find your knee to find it swollen, fighting against the fabric of your pants. you sigh gently massaging it, hissing slightly as a shock of pain spreads through your knee. you place weight on your knee, finding it stronger than before but still weak.

you carefully making way your way to the cooler placing them gently inside. you turn around, placing your hands on your hips, looking at the kitchen around you, feeling proud of what you accomplished.

you were also thanking your past self for asking ryujin to clean the floors before she left because there’s no way you would’ve been able to. you made your way over to your work station, wiping down the table and discarding your trash.

you turn off all the lights, and headed out the door just in time to see jeongin’s car pull around the corner. you waved and gave him a smile, locking the door behind you. you walked to the car trying (and failing) to hide your limp.

seeing this jeongin immediately parked the car, getting out to meet you halfway. “hi bubba.” you smiled as he approached you. “hi noona,” he gives you a quick hug and peck on the side of your head before pulling away.

“what’s going on with your knee?” he asks, voice laced with concern. “nothing, it’s just a little sore-” he cuts you off. “noona, i love you but if you say it's nothing to worry about i’m gonna lose it.” you giggle and shake your head.

“there’s nothing to worry about, my knee gets like that every once and a while i’m okay.” you smile, trying to ease his concern. “i’d believe that if i didn’t just watch you limp over here.” he says, folding his arms, raising an eyebrow.

“ while i appreciate the concern,” you smile, you unfold his arms, sliding your hands in his, “i promise i am fine, it’s just a little swollen and sore. nothing a little ice and aspirin can’t fix.” you place a kiss on his cheek, moving to get to the car.

well at least you were trying to until your knee gave out once more, causing you to stumble. he catches you before you can fall, wrapping an arm around your waist, “woah! okay y/n, that’s not normal!” he exclaims, helping you stand.

“okay it looks bad but i promise it’s fine, i have it under control.” you tried reassure him, but he wasn’t buying it. “y/n.” his tone was stern and his eyes were worried. you sighed, knowing what had to be done. “i know.” you whispered, looking down. “but i can’t afford to go right now.” he sighed, pulling you into him, placing his arms around you.

“peach, you gotta get this checked out please, you’re making me worried.” you feel a slight sting behind your eyes, turning your face into his neck, wrapping your arms around him. “don’t worry about the money, okay? but we gotta get this figured out before it gets worse.” he whispers next to your ear, placing a kiss there.

you nod, taking a deep breath, pulling back looking at him. “okay, i’ll call tomorrow.” he smiles, placing a kiss on your temple. “okay good, now let’s go home hm?” you sniffle nodding. “yes please.”

he walks you to the car, helping you in the car, closing the door and making his way to the driver’s side. he grabs your hand, placing it on your thigh as he started the journey home. once he pulls into the parking lot of your complex, helps you out of the car.

“we’re gonna take it slow okay?” you go to open your mouth but quickly shut it, seeing the stern look on his face. you grab the hand he holds out, slowly make your way up the flight of stairs, one by one.

once making it into the apartment, you both kick off shoes, making your way into your room. “go shower, i’ll grab your clothes and towel for you.” he squeezes your hand as you part ways. you slowly make your way to your ensuite while he heads to your closet.

you turn on the water, making sure it’s set to warm the ridding yourself of your work clothes. once naked, you double check the temperature of the water before carefully stepping in, making sure to find your balance against the wall.

you heard a knock on the door before it opens, “peach?” he calls out, “i got your towel and some comfy clothes for you, i’m gonna set them on the counter okay?” you hear as he places the collection on the counter. “okay, thank you i.n-ah.” your heart warms at the act, wondering how you got so lucky. he takes a seat on the toilet, taking out his phone, scrolling through a delivery app.

“noona, what do you want for dinner?” he asks, “i was thinking ramen.” you can’t help the smile on your face as you sit under the water. “that sounds perfect.”

you both fall into casual conversation as you finish your shower and he finishes your order. you turn off the water and peek around the curtain, finding jeongin standing with your towel in hand. you reach your hand but he pulls it away before you can. he leans forward, “kiss please.” he purses his lips, waiting.

you giggle, rolling your eyes before giving him a quick kiss, “pleasure doing business with you.” he smiles, handing you the soft fabric. you wrap the towel around you, stepping out of the shower as jeongin walks about into your room, giving you privacy to get dressed.

you quickly dry off, carefully getting dressed, leaning on the sink to put on your shorts. you walk back into your room to find jeongin on your bed with lotion and massage oil next to him.

he smiles as you enter the room, patting the spot next to him, signaling you to take a seat. you make your way over, sitting against the pillows, being mindful of your knee. once settled he moves to sit in front of you, gently placing your leg on top of his.

“which one?” he asks, holding up the two bottles. “uh, the oil, but only a little please.” he nods, knowing you hate the feeling of anything greasy. he gets to work gently rubbing your knee, making sure to not apply too much pressure.

you both sit in silence while he worked his magic. you took in his side profile, taking this opportunity to truly take in his appearance. his soft skin, his boba eyes, his dimples that peak out every once in a while.

he senses someone looking at him causing him to look up, locking eyes with you. his cheeks become a light pink, “stop staring at me, weirdo.” he mumbles, continuing his task on your knee. you gasp in offense, “you're lucky my knee hurts or i’d kick you.” you pout, sinking into the pillow behind you.

he giggles before placing a kiss to your knee, moving to rub the underside of our knee. you hiss but soon relax as he works the sore muscle. you fall into conversation once more, him recounting his day as you relax further and further into the bed.

you end up falling asleep halfway through his story about hyunjin’s cuteness aggression halting dance practice once more. he looks over as soft breaths leave your lips, careful moving and placing your legs on the bed and a soft blanket over you.

placing a kiss on your forehead he leaves to prepare bowls, utensils and drinks for dinner, only waking you once it arrives. he brings it in with all other necessities to help soothe the pain in your knee, spending the rest of the night pampering you and icing your knee.

do not repost

i hope you all enjoyed! i kinda got lost in the sauce and made these alot longer than they should've lol but hopefully they're still good! please let me n ilya know what u think! love u guys <33

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satoruxx · 11 months ago

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pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader summary: toji being a grinch lmao, grumpy x sunshine again, fluff, bickering rheya’s note: man i bet toji pretends to hate decorating for christmas but does it anyway bc he can’t say no to you! UGH he makes me !! i couldn’t stop thinking about bf!toji so here’s this silly little drabble. merry christmas everyone <33

“you serious?”

“yup.”

toji crosses his arms with a scowl, and you mirror his stance with narrowed eyes.

“it’s stupid,” he grunts, reaching out to gently push his palm against your forehead—which earns him a dramatic groan.

“it is not.” you grab his bicep and he lets you drag him over to the tree you’ve set up in the living room. “don’t be an ass.”

he sighs as you place a floppy santa hat on his head and beam at his disgruntled expression. there’s an identical one on you—sliding off your head in all your excitement, and toji has to stop himself from fixing it for you.

you crouch down and throw open a few storage boxes before gesturing somewhat emphatically. “get to work!”

he grumbles, shaking his head even as he goes to pick up a few ornaments. “you’re ridiculous.”

“not very christmas-y of you, toji,” you comment, standing on your toes to hook an ornament. he snorts, eyeing the glitter sticking to his fingertips.

“oh no—i’m the spitting image of joy, can’t you tell?” he replies sarcastically, though his shoulders relax a little as he hears your unfiltered laughter.

toji glances at you, watching as you quietly hum some old christmas song under your breath while filling up the tree with colorful orbs. he’s not sure why you’re so intent on having him be a part of your yearly holiday traditions—he’s never been big on celebrating anyway.

but then he remembers what you had said last year.

“i don’t wanna celebrate anything if you’re not celebrating it with me.”

you’ve always been too good to him.

you scoot a little closer, decorating without a care in the world and toji lets out a quiet breath—decides to be a little annoying because it’s a surefire way to make you smile.

“you mind?” he frowns, huffing with a dramatic sneer. he pins you with a pointed glare before motioning to the tree. “you’re getting in my territory.”

you throw him an appalled look before moving your arm in his face childishly. “what are you gonna do about it?”

an evil smirk makes its way onto his face, and your expression immediately drops. “wait no—“

toji’s bicep curls around your throat, pulling you into a headlock as you squeal and slap at his arm. he spends the next few minutes playfully wrestling with you before finally letting you win and step into his space—stands behind you and watches your fingers gently place ornaments while his hand absentmindedly rubs over your hipbone.

“what do you want for christmas anyway?” you ask offhandedly. toji raises a brow, looking down at you—expressionless.

“thought it was obvious—“ he shrugs, reaching up to hang ornaments on the higher parts of the tree. “all you gotta do is sit under the tree for me and i’ll be happy. bonus points if there’s unwrapping involved.”

you make an expression that has no business looking that scandalized and toji smirks in amusement.

“psycho,” you mutter, shaking your head in mock disapproval—earning a muted chuckle in return. you go back to hanging up ornaments, once again humming to yourself, and toji takes it as a cue to continue decorating. the two of you work in relative silence—an occasional quip or jab the only disturbance. after a while, he crosses his arms.

“are we done yet?” he groans, eyeing the nearly full tree. “i’m tired as fuck.”

“weak,” you grin, though you reach out and pat his chest thankfully. “but you did participate and that’s all i wanted so, yeah, you can be done.”

toji almost laughs in relief, but then he sees you rummage through the boxes and pull out more decorations for the rest of the house, and he sighs.

“alright hand it over,” he grumbles, holding his palm out expectantly. you look at him—half confused and half surprised.

“i thought you were done?”

“yeah right,” he huffs, taking the tinsel from your hands and walking over to the staircase. “you’d end up tangled in this crap if i left you alone with it.”

“you’re so dramatic. and whiny,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes.

“am not.”

despite saying so he quietly huffs as he continues to help you decorate the house with stockings and tinsel and all that other festive stuff.

by the time the house is fully decorated, toji is close to banning the holiday season—grumpy, tired, and ready to move onto something else.

but then, the tiniest part of him is uncharacteristically giddy when you look up at him, holding the star in your hands. toji shakes his head, trying to bite back the amused grin tickling his scarred lips, before sighing and crossing his arms.

“can i help you?” he asks—teasing, though his expression betrays nothing.

you pout, holding the star up dramatically. “the star needs to be put up.”

a smirk graces his face and his tone becomes taunting, yet the affection is not lost on you. “yeah? need a boost, kid?”

even before you nod, toji is crouching in front of you, palms reaching out to guide your legs over his shoulders. you laugh as he stands back up, taking a few steps towards the tree.

he can’t help but chuckle as he watches you lean forward, palm smoothing over your thigh in attempts to stabilize you. “you got it?”

“almost.” he can hear the strain in your voice, can feel the way your fingers twitch against his jaw—but he waits patiently.

“okay got it!” your voice is triumphant, and toji grins to himself.

“attagirl.” his lips brush against your inner thigh—a sweet reward for a job well done. he hears your quiet giggle from above him as you gently push away his dark bangs.

“alright, put me down now,” you huff, and toji bites back a scoff.

“tsk.” he clicks his tongue, though he still lowers himself to let you hop off his shoulders before rising to his full height. “so ungrateful.”

“what do you want, a medal?”

you yelp as toji’s fingers pinch at your side in retaliation. “watch your mouth, kid.”

you flash him a grin full of mischief, though you don’t say anything else. instead you look up at the finished tree, marveling at your handiwork with pride.

“see—” you say with a pointed grin. “—isn’t it pretty?”

toji chuckles, wrapping a heavy bicep around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. “yeah,” he agrees, green eyes trained on your happy little smile. “it is.”

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bamboozledbird · 4 months ago

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Written in the Stars // Stiles Stilinski Imagine

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader Pairing: Stiles x Reader, Stiles x You (no use of y/n) Word Count: 5k Tags: fluff, fluff, fluff, i love my men nerdy and desperate, all characters are over 19, my vibe is it's like their sophomore or junior year of college Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, unprotected pnv (terrible advice, babes, don't listen to these idiots)

Request: stiles smut plssss!!! anything fluffy??? A/N: request mixed with a lil bit of an old work to ease me into my first smut. still coming across virginities at 27, and that is really something. s/o to the anon who requested it lmao.

Stiles’s childhood bedroom is an assortment of Star Wars paraphernalia, baseball posters, and bundles of wrinkled flannels squeezed to fit within four faded blue walls. There are a few books stacked on top of his desk, coated in a thin layer of dust from the semester away from home, and little plastic stormtroopers stand at attention on his dresser corners. It smells a little musty in his room, a little like damp earth, but you’ve always liked that smell. You especially like how his cologne smells here—like spice, like fallen leaves, like Christmas morning.

“The curtains are blackout,” Stiles says. He pulls the heavy navy curtains over the window facing the small backyard. The grass is yellowing from the cold of winter, and the air is crisp with the same bitter chill. You shiver and burrow further into the sweatshirt you’d somehow commandeered long before you and Stiles were a we. A few flecks of dust float off the plaid bedding when he sits down on his bed. He looks up at you and grins at the sleeves hanging limply below your fingers, “Flip off the light.”

You turn off the light and shut the door. It’s dark inside the room now—almost completely black. What little remains of the sun is gone, and now you can only see the glow-in-the-dark stars sticky-tacked to the ceiling. “You must have taken a lot of people up here,” you hum, grinning at him coyly over your shoulder. You’re not quite sure if he can make out the glint in your eyes under the pale fluorescent glow, but you’d like to think he can. Either way, you’re sure he knows.

Stiles laughs easily and scoots himself down to the edge of his bed, “Why?”

“For kissing,” you say, matter-of-factly, but you’re still grinning. You make your way towards him, and your prowl is far less smooth than you’d like it to be—the piles of books and a couple month’s worth of dirty laundry make an already difficult path downright hazardous. You count it as a win when you end up in his lap without tripping on anything, “Doesn’t everyone want to be kissed under the stars?”

His hands, his wonderfully large and veiny hands, find their way to your hips. It’s instinct for him, reflexive at this point, and here in the dark it feels like the only thing he knows. You can feel his grin against your neck, “Do you?”

You hum, playing coy, and absently curl your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, thick and curling a bit at the ends. It’s grown out over the last few months. He’s been too busy with studying for finals and working at the library to bother getting it cut. You like it like this, long enough to hold onto, long enough to yank. “I like the stars,” you sigh—so close to his mouth, but not touching—and then you pull back, smiling fondly when you see his mouth is already puckered. “Tell me about ‘em.”

Stiles groans and falls onto his back, pulling you down with him. You end up tucked against his side, shivering as he slides his hand under your sweatshirt to trace a feathery line up and down your back. “That’s like the worst possible genre for innuendo. I can’t woo you while I’m David Attenborough-ing about astrology.”

You smile against his shoulder, and he yelps when you nip at his skin through his thread-bare t-shirt. “You like a challenge.”

He wraps a strand of your hair around his finger and pulls a little, just hard enough to tip into a reprimand. It’s at least half the reason you turn into a brat when he’s this close. “There’s Andromeda,” he hums against the top of your head, pointing towards a small cluster of stars. “Those are supposed to be her legs, and that’s her head, and the ones over there are her arms—fuckin’ uneven, I know. I think that side kinda looks like she’s holding out one of those canes with tennis balls on t—”

You smile and knock your head into his chin lightly, “Wooing, Stiles.”

He tugs on your hair again and swears under his breath when a little whimper tumbles past your lips. “Anyway, she’s next to Perseus—who looks a lot more like Patrick than a demigod. I mean, look at him; his body type is like…something between Dorito and spanakopita.” You laugh, and Stiles squeezes you closer to his side, tangles your legs together, and kisses the tip of your nose like he just can’t help himself. “Story goes, Andromeda's mom royally pissed off Poseidon, so he sent a sea monster to destroy her kingdom—as one does when someone’s talking shit.”

“Naturally,” you hum as you reach for the hand he has cupped around your waist.

“Naturally,” Stiles agrees, nodding against the crown of your head. You try not to get too distracted by the length of his fingers, bending them and straightening them out one at a time, as he carries on with the story, “So Andromeda’s mom is up there with the titans of bad parents—like right next to Vader and every Disney step-mom ‘cause she fuckin’ ties Andromeda to a rock as a sacrifice for the mo—” He sucks in a shallow breath through his teeth when you start kissing along the row of his knuckles, first little soft brushes that almost tickle and then a few lingering ones that wet his skin. He swears again and ever-so slowly shifts his hips against the thigh tucked between his legs. You take pity on him and rest your entwined hands in the small gap between your breastbone and his ribs. His exhale is warm against your forehead, “Obviously, Perseus swoops in at the last minute, slays the beast, gets the girl, etcetera, etcetera.”

Humming, you tip your chin up against his chest and look at him through your lashes, “What happens during etcetera, etcetera?”

“I think,” Stiles rolls over so that he’s on top of you, bracing his weight on his forearms, caging you in delightfully close to his broad chest, “something like this.”

You forget about the game for a minute when he starts mouthing at your skin with just the right amount of teeth. His hair, adorably messy and sticking up in little patches from your fingers, tickles the hinge of your jaw. “Didn’t Perseus kill Medusa?” you mumble, head tipping back into the mattress, eyes closed.

“Uh,” Stiles keeps kissing along your neck, obviously distracted by the hitches in your breath and the soft sighs you let out when he breathes against spit-slick skin, “yeah?”

You can feel the heaviness of his whine against your mouth when you pull away, blinking up at him with big, round eyes—the picture of innocence. A little lamb, an unplucked daisy, a gossamer butterfly wing, entirely unaware of the raging hard-on pressed against your inner thigh. His skin is warm through his shirt, so warm you feel it on your legs when you wrap them around his waist. “While she was sleeping?”

“Uh huh,” Stiles slides a hand up your thigh. The other one is pressed into the mattress, and the muscles in his forearm flex under his full weight. You’re pretty sure he’d agree with anything you say like this.

Unfortunately for the pulsing between your legs, you’ve fallen victim to your own ruse. Your head tilts as you recall all the unsavory details of the Medusa myth, “After she was literally assaulted by his dad?”

Stiles drops his head against your chest and groans, “You’re killing me, baby.”

You grin and curl your fingers in his hair, petting him gently and squeezing your thighs against his hips, “Tell me another one.”

He sighs and rolls over, starfishing his right arm and leg over the edge of the bed with a dramatic flop. “We’ll skip Orion and the seven girls he stalked.”

“Smart choice,” you hum and snuggle into his side. His chest is firm from hours of trying to lift enough to play lacrosse with werewolves, but it still makes for a nice pillow. Stiles’s fingers find their way into your hair, and you swallow back the purr rising in your throat for his sake. He’s been so good for you, after all. You don’t want the torture to be too painful.

“And the swan-fucker,” he adds, scratching lightly at your scalp.

“What?”

Stiles ignores your wide eyes, smirking, and continues playing with your hair, “Altair and Vega. That’s a good one.” In the blanket of darkness and under the strain of yearning, his voice sounds soft and crackly, like one of those singers in the black and white movies, the ones that dance with the microphone. “Starts with a gorgeous, sexy, incredibly charitable goddess falling for a lowly mortal,” his grin is sly as he hikes your thigh over his, squeezing just under your ass, “a lot like us.”

“Boo. Awful.” You pull a face as he drops a flurry of kisses over your cheeks, nose, chin—your laughing mouth, “Disgusting. I’m disgusted.”

His fingers dip into the waistband of your leggings, tauntingly close to just where you want him, “You don’t feel disgusted.”

Now, that won’t do. You’re just getting started. You trap his hand with your thighs and tap your finger against the slope of his upturned nose, “Finish the story.”

Stiles whines a little and then sighs, returning the palm of his hand to the little dip above your hip. “Her dad is disgusted that she wants to bring a loser human home, so he turns them into stars on opposite sides of the galaxy.”

Frowning, you squint at the collection of stars he’d pointed to. They don’t look so far apart on his bedroom ceiling. “That’s…depressing.”

“It’s not over yet,” Stiles pulls on your hair and does his best to look annoyed, but the nip to your bottom lip feels far more like a reward than a punishment, “hush.” He waits a minute for you to comply—or, more likely, not comply—and you settle back on his chest and arch your brow, waiting. He arches his brow right back and then keeps going, “One day a year, on the seventh day of the seventh month, Altair fills the galaxy with his tears, and every bird in the sky makes a bridge with their wings so that they can spend one more night together.”

The corner of your mouth tugs into a little grin, “That is a good one.” You trace little patterns on his bicep, little swirls and stars, and rest your chin on his shoulder so that you can see his pretty face, “But just for the story. Only one night a year would kill me.”

“Baby,” Stiles clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth and shakes his head like he's disappointed, bottom lip jutting out slightly from under his top, “it'd take a helluva lot more than a couple light-years and an immortal father-in-law to keep me from getting to you.”

It’s such a line, but the dopey grin he gives you while he says it somehow makes it charming. Maybe you’re just a little bit lovesick. Okay, maybe a lot. “You can kiss me n—”

He’s on you before you can finish, but you don’t mind being interrupted when he's slanting his mouth against yours just right and groaning into your sighs with a gravelly pitch that makes your toes curl. “Fuck me,” Stiles sighs. He dips back in before you can quip something bratty, something that would definitely earn you another yank on your hair—later perhaps.

You straddle his waist, sit back in the cradle of his pelvis, and lace your fingers together on the mattress against the sides of his head. He whimpers. You curse. “Off,” you mutter against his mouth, tugging petulantly on the hem of his t-shirt. Stiles is quick to comply, like always, but the fabric gets stuck around his shoulders. You let him struggle for a minute, just long enough to hear more of those petulant little whines. When you finally help him wrangle his shirt over his head, you’re up close and personal with his mouth. His lips are pretty—swollen, pink, and shiny with salvia and your lip balm—and you’re filled with the overwhelming urge to bite. You toss his shirt somewhere on the floor behind you and lean down, your chest pressed against his. You can feel his heartbeat stutter, like a rabbit in a trap, when you stroke your thumb over his bottom lip. It’s soft and wet against your finger, and you sigh high in your throat, “Pretty.”

His chest warms, and you wish you had more light to admire the flush spreading from his neck to his cheeks. You know it’s pink and pretty too, but you’d enjoy seeing the proof. “Pretty?” Stiles echoes, cocking his head slightly, and slides his hands from your ass to your hips. He continues his path along the sides of your ribcage with the bottom of your sweatshirt bunched between his fingers.

“Pretty,” you nod, sharp and definitive. You sit up a little so that Stiles can pull your hoodie off, and then it’s lost to the dark abyss. Frankly, you aren’t that worried about if you ever see it again. You can always steal another one after you’re done.

He shakes his head and runs his hands over your torso, your collarbones, your stomach, just under your tits—he can’t see that well in the dim light, so he’s damn well going to see you the only way he can. “Pretty,” Stiles groans, cupping your tits and gently thumbing over your nipples through the thin fabric of your cotton bra. It’s simple, white, unadorned by lace or a pattern—and it’s sexier than it has any right to be, he thinks. He’s eager to rip it off.

You shudder through the entire length of your spinal column, through all the nerves attached, and arch into his touch, “Yeah?”

He coos, and your nipples pebble in response. It’s embarrassing but soon forgotten when Stiles cups your face, big hands encompassing almost the entire length of your jaw, and whispers, “Pretty girl. My pretty baby.”

It’s even more embarrassing how quickly you feel your underwear dampen under the scrutiny of some simple praise. Now, you’re whining, and he’s letting out a string of guttural, “Fuck,”s as you grind down against the increasingly painful bulge in his jeans. Your nails leave little pink lines along the sculpted v of his pelvis, just deep enough to sting a bit—enough to send his head back towards his shoulders. He sits up a little more so that he can grip your hips, holding them still as he catches his breath, and you’re only a little ashamed of the way you mewl his name in protest. Stiles shuts you up with a kiss and shakes his head, “Can’t come in my pants like I’m 17 again. That’s the worst possible ending to our constellation. Like a 1/10, definitely certified rotten.”

You grin against his throat, and he swallows at the sharp press of your teeth. “Oh, I don’t think that’s the worst ending. Wouldn’t the worst be the one where you don’t come at all?”

Stiles’s fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you down firmly against his lap, like he’s scared you’ll get up and leave him with a weeping cock and teary eyes. “Baby, don’t even joke about that. That’s a billion times worse than letting a sea monster rip me in half.”

“Guess you can split me in half then,” you shrug a little, and Stiles goes taut under you, fingertips flexing into the small of your back, “unless you want me to tie you to a rock. I’d be into that.”

He growls in your ear, nipping at your jaw and flipping you onto your back. You laugh, a little breathless, as you bounce back on the mattress from the force of it. “Definitely wanna split you in half,” Stiles mutters as he shucks off his pants and kneels at the edge of his bed. He starts peeling back your leggings, taking his time to kiss each sliver of skin revealed to him despite the urgency in his eyes, despite the ache in his white-knuckled grip on the buttery martial of your bottoms. “Gonna wreck you,” Stiles promises as he brushes his lips over your ankle a few times. His words are filthy, but his eyes are honey-sweet and lit with nothing but complete and utter devotion—like you really are a goddess in the sky. You’re already wrecked, probably have been since he kissed you for the first time, entirely ruined for anyone else.

“Did’ya know that Vega is brighter than Altair,” he says, quiet and reverent as he drops your leggings. You blink at him, a bit dumbly, but it’s his own fault for trying to have a conversation while he’s sliding your legs over his shoulders and fiddling with the hem of your underwear. “By, like, 5 places? I think? That’s us too—can’t even look at you sometimes,” he hums, warm against your wet cunt, and hooks his thumbs around your panties. You shudder, and he smiles. You aren’t quite sure if he’s talking to you or to the glistening flesh he reveals when he yanks the baby pink cotton to the side. Either way, you understand his dilemma. It’s torture to watch him sometimes. You have to close your eyes when the pink tip of his tongue darts out, wetting his lip, tasting the air.

There’s a sigh. So soft. Really more of an exhale, and you aren’t sure where it came from. It could’ve been you, or him, or the stars. “You talk a lot,” this time you know the sigh is coming from you.

Stiles smirks a little and slips his thumb inside your panties, swiping through your slick folds like he’s fingerpainting, “Is that a complaint?”

Your hips stutter, and his other hand is quick to clamp down on your skin, stopping any attempts to skitter away from his light touch. “I love it when you talk,” you hum, leaning up onto your elbows so that you can watch him work. He grins up at you, almost shy, and presses down against your clit. A wet gasp bursts through swollen lips as your back arches, and Stiles isn’t so shy when he bends down to drop a gentle kiss over his thumb. “But I, uh,” you brush your fingers through the dark hair flopping over his forehead and squeeze your eyes shut when his kisses become kitten licks, “I also love it when you use your mo—” His finger (his long, gifted finger) slides into your cunt with an embarrassing squelch, and his lips wrap around your clit as he sucks. “That,” you whine, back arching a little until Stiles spreads his fingers over your stomach and presses down, “I also love it when you do that.”

His laugh vibrates deliciously against all the places he’s trying to devour, and you think it wouldn’t be such a bad way to go—being eaten alive by your gorgeous boyfriend. He pulls back to slip another finger in your pussy, spreading them just enough to burn in the best way, and then he’s prodding at the spot inside you that sends a jolt up your spine—makes your fingers wind in the bedspread, pull on his hair, fly to your mouth when you start to cry a little. It didn’t used to be like this. Sex. Getting fingered, fucked, even eaten out—it never felt like this before him. It’s…overwhelming, sometimes. Most of the time, actually. You keep waiting to get used to it, for the newness, the discovery of it all, to wear off. Hasn’t happened yet. You don’t think it ever will. Certainly not tonight.

“Good?” Stiles licks his lips, at the glistening corners of his mouth, and you toss your head back—overwhelmed. “Good,” he concludes, and he’s not even smug about it. More like he’s making a note in one of his case files, something to look back on later when he needs it. He’s quick about getting what little remains of your clothes off, and when he crawls on top of you, you’re immensely grateful for it. Skin on skin, nothing quite like it. Quick romps in the jeep, up against alley walls, the sink of the occasional bar bathroom—all fun, but not nearly as satisfying as being completely pressed against his naked body, completely caged in by his large frame. Sappy, maybe, but it feels dirty when he drags the tip of his cock through your folds. When he bumps against your clit, you mewl and dig your nails into his back. He sucks in sharply and buries his face in the crook of your neck, “There’s a condom in th—”

“Forget it,” you whimper, carding your fingers through his hair. It’s a little sweaty where it meets his neck, and it’s so soft, and thick, and perfect, and—he’s stopped breathing against your neck.

He groans from a place deep in his gut, deeper actually, and his arms shake, “Are you su—”

“Yes,” you nod rapidly and wrap your legs around him, arms too, and your fingers join in on the clinging when they twist in his hair. “Absolutely. 1000%. Please don’t make me say please.”

He lets out a little laugh that stirs the hair framing your face, and he traces your cheekbone, barely touching your skin. Your head swims with the look in his eyes: amber, warmth, and worship, “But you’re just so pretty when you beg.” Not that you’ve ever had to for long. Stiles gives you anything you want if you ask him the right way. If you look at him with big, wet eyes, if you jut out your lower lip just so—wet as well, the little lick of your tongue is part of it; that took him months to figure out—he crumbles. He’s said many times that better men than he have fallen victim to far less beautiful schemes.

Stiles kisses the pout off your lips and nudges the tip of his nose over yours, grinning like a drunken idiot, “Told’ya, baby. Not a light-year, definitely not a little latex.” His grin slides into a little ‘o’ when you slither your hand between your bodies and grip his cock, sliding the first inch into your cunt, impatient. “F-fuck—fuck-ing hell,” he grunts and takes over for you, squeezing your hip until it starts to hurt a little. You’d say something, but then he’d stop—and you like the way it aches. You like knowing there will be a bruise. He’ll fret over it later, kiss each mottled spot better a million times, and you like that too. You like being taken care of, almost as much as he likes taking care of you.

When he bottoms out, when his pelvic bone ruts up against you, a long, drawn out whimper spills through your pout. “Yeah? Feels good, baby?” Stiles watches your face closely, brushes away the hair sticking to your forehead, and drops a few kisses on your shut eyelids. You nod, and nod, and nod, until he stops you with another kiss to your lips. He kisses you slowly, presses his tongue against the seam of your lips, and you sigh. The kiss quickly becomes wet and filthy, and you’d be embarrassed by the sound of your tongues sliding together if you could actually hear it. At the moment, all you can hear is his cock sliding in and out of your dripping pussy—and that’s definitely sending a dizzying heat up your neck. You don’t worry about it for long when his hips shift and he starts hitting that spot inside you again. After that, neither of you can hear anything over your squealing. Stiles kisses away the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes and licks his lips, chasing the taste. “Right there, huh?” You babble an incoherent answer, and he strokes your hair and noses at your cheek, “Yeah, right there. I know. It’s okay.”

Stiles slides his hands under your back and sits up, taking you with him. The new angle is impossibly deep, and you bite down on his shoulder and wind your arms around his neck to keep yourself there. With him. In the moment. “It’s okay, baby. I got you, promise,” he squeezes your hips, and despite his reassurances and the strength of his grip, you know he’s falling apart too. He’s close. You can feel it. His hips stutter a little, change direction, lose their dedicated pace—and it’s perfect because you’re right there with him. It’s been building for a while, probably since he led you by hand to his room, maybe even before that when he smirked at you behind his cup of tequila and (mostly) pineapple juice.

You cry a little and bite down on your bottom lip, hard. Stiles kisses the sting away, and your eyes screw shut as you start babbling again, “I’m—”

He kisses you again and lifts his hands from your hips to cup your face, thumbing along your bottom lip when he pulls back—not far, just enough to look at your face, shiny with sweat and tears. “I know,” he stills for a moment, pausing the movement of his hips so that he can just feel you pulsing around him for a moment, “me too.” You aren’t sure if you want to hit him or kiss him for stopping, but you don’t have the strength to do either when he starts what must be his final round of thrusts. It has to be—you’re a few seconds away from collapsing or coming, whichever comes first. When Stiles moans your name in your ear, soft and high like he does when he’s right there, and he slides his hand down your stomach to rub firm circles on your clit, you’re happy it’s your orgasm that happens first. Your abs convulse a little as you twitch around him, and you curl in on yourself as much as you can with Stiles in the way. He’s not in the way for long. Growling, he shoves you back against the bed and mumbles, “Where?” after a few sloppy thrusts.

You mewl as he keeps the pressure on your clit, reach for his wrist and try to pull his hand away, but he’s determined and you’re tired. You twitch and throw your head back, whimpering, “Inside,” before you can think better of it. It’s his fault, you’ll decide later, for prolonging your high with his mean, unforgiving, wonderful thumb.

He’ll blame you, for feeling so perfect around him—for fluttering, and leaking, and trembling better than…anything he’s ever seen in porn, and he’s watched...a lot of it, so he’s a bit of an expert on the cinematic orgasm. “You’re so fuckin—you,” he shakes his head against your heaving chest and groans, “you’re everything.” And when he finally comes in you, you’re okay with taking the blame for something that feels so good. He manages a few more thrusts, and then he finally lets you pull his hand away from your cunt when he collapses onto his forearms, barely holding himself up from crushing you with his full weight. You’d tell him to roll over, but then he’d be over there and not in you, so you put up with the sweat and heaviness while your head spins.

“Baby?” Stiles hums noncommittally in response to your soft prodding, and you smirk against the top of his head. All the smugness leaves you when you finally feel the foreign sensation of his cum leaking out of you. Shuddering, you kiss his hair a few times and scratch up and down his back lightly until he’s able to breathe normally. He pushes himself up onto his arms and glances down when he pulls out, staring for a moment at the way your pussy gapes a bit, watching the trickle of cum drip down your folds and onto the bed. He rubs his hand over his jaw and licks his lips, shaking his head—at a loss for words for the first time in his life. Your tongue is a little thick when you fill the void for him, “Next time, towel first.”

He finds it within himself to tear his eyes away from your cunt and gives you a crooked little grin, “Next time?”

You roll your eyes, but your grin is stupid with affection, “Sure, next time. Maybe. If you’re good.”

It’s a little disgusting, the way he just rolls over and pulls you on top of him with absolutely no regard for the various bodily fluids sticking to your skin, but you forget about the unpleasantness of drying cum and cooling sweat when he kisses you. “I’m always good,” he huffs against your cheek. You shoot him a look, brows arched and eyes narrowed, and he smirks, “Okay, maybe not, but I’m always good for you.”

You nuzzle in a little closer and scoff, but it’s true. Stiles is so good, always—especially for you. “I guess you did manage to woo me. You’re very sexy when you’re talkin’ astrology, you know that?”

He smiles, wide and happy, and wiggles his brows, “An absolute banger of an ending, right? I don’t think they could chart it in the stars without ruining your pretty face, but that’s probably for the best.” Stiles brushes his fingers over your lips when you let out a little questioning hum and takes your hand, growling playfully as he nibbles at your fingertips, “You’re mine. Nobody’s allowed to see you like this but me—definitely not horny little nerds with their telescopes.”

You grin and bump your nose against his, “You’re a horny little nerd with a telescope.”

Stiles tips his head with a sly grin, and you already know what he’s going to say—it’s still devastatingly adorable when he whispers, “No, I’m your horny little nerd with a telescope.”

Adorable enough to make you consider pulling him into the shower with you, and if the heavy-lidded look he’s giving you is anything to go by, you’d say he agrees.

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi smut #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #dylan o'brien imagine #stiles stilinski fic #teen wolf fanfiction

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writingmeraki · 9 months ago

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men on a mission.

a kim mingyu drabble !

pairing : secret!agent!mingyu x secret!agent!reader, established relationship ( they are married lmao )

genre : fluff. few rotten tooth worthy fluff.

warnings : kissing and mentions of alcohol/drunkness.

author's note : well. i was inspired by a sort of dream i had abt mingyu and this sprouted out of it lmao. i rlly do hope it makes sense <3 i kinda wanna make this a fic someday but i have too much shit on my hands rn so take this instead :D also unkept, unsaid,ugly emotions other units will be coming soon and maybe something for enha too cause it's been a HOTTT minute ☝️!!

sp. dt to my svt luvr moots 🩷!! @blue-jisungs ; @shuamorollss ; @odxrilove ; @flwoie ; @strxwberry-skiess ; @bambikisss ; @enluv !!!! ( this is my small attempt at showing y'all i am alive and do think of you guys everytime i open this app :( love u all even those who aren't mentioned ! )

word count : 0.9k

small drabble in the same universe ( continuation if you wish ) !!

Mission be darned, you may just get exempted due to murdering your assigned partner.

“Mingyu! Can you please stop drinking!?”

You were sure your forehead might have become red from the amount of times you've been rubbing it and you can feel the grey hair seeping through.

Glaring at said man as he downed probably the fifth shot of some combo of liquor, you turned your attention to the bartender.

His eyes widened as he gulped in slight fear from the anger radiating in your gaze.

“I told you to stop. No more drinks for him.”

You said calmly as he quickly nodded his head and went in a rush to clean the already cleaned up counter for the second time, finding it better to be anywhere but near a furious person.

He knew what he was paid was not worth getting into an argument about how customer service is the top thing and all that.

“Loosen up! Have some fun babyyy!” His words slurred towards the end and you had to stop yourself from grinning at his words. You rolled your eyes at his words before hissing out lowly towards him,

“We are not supposed to have fun, if you remember, we’re here to collect some information!” You were whisper yelling at this point but you doubt anyone would hear you anyways from the loud music playing in the club which was already giving you a headache.

“ ‘s fine~”

“I’ll get it out some other time, just relax yeah? It’s been a while since we went out.”

Sighing at his words, you avoided looking at his face. You knew damn well he had that specific look. The look when he really wanted something from you which you weren’t agreeing on. You think it’s his eyes that get to you every damn time.

Suddenly, he moved from his position and clinged to your arm, almost making you fall off the bar stool as he scooted closer with his, making a screeching sound that would have made you cringe if it weren’t for the fact you were trying not to fall over from the sudden weight added.

“Mingyu!” You yelped as you moved your right arm around him, trying to hold him as support,which was another mission in itself considering how broad his shoulders were.

His face plopped itself on your shoulder, cheek smothered on it as he spoke, “You’re so warm, always are warm.”

You suppose he was somewhat fulfilling the actual mission you’d come for, which was acting like a couple in love as bait to get some information on a group that was specifically targeting couples for their acts and scams.

“Uhm, are you alright?” You turned to the concerned bartender, who had immediately turned towards you once again when he heard your shocked yelp from before.

“If he’s bothering you, I can call security.”

You rolled your eyes, for probably the nth time that night, murmuring under your breath how if he hadn’t given him the shots, he wouldn’t act that way.

“No it’s fine- he gets…clingy when he’s out of it.”

“Gyu?” The coldness of the ring on your ring finger touched his cheek which made him slightly wake up from almost dozing off as you had turned your attention away from him.

The ring didn’t go unnoticed to the bartender as he nodded at you and went about his business.

Turns out your mission was already halfway complete because you didn’t really need to fake being a couple, after all being married for six years is probably as real as it could get.

“You’re so pretty, wanna marry you and just be with you~”

You couldn’t stop the giggle now, your eyes sparkling underneath the club lights as you rubbed his cheek in adoration.

Well what was the point of trying to accomplish the mission anyways? You knew you would be able to get the information through other ways, so you might as well just 'have fun' as your actual partner ( for life ) said right?

Your anger was considerably simmered since it had occurred to you, it had been an actual while since you went out with him. Even if he was your husband, it was tough to get free time when you were both the best at your agency.

“Well I think you’ve already accomplished that yeah baby?” You don’t think you’ll ever get over how your stomach feels like butterflies are roaming around when he grins at you the way he is at the moment.

You’ll definitely never get over how he always and always looks at you like you hung up every star in the universe just for him to gaze at in awe. He looks at you, always did as if you held all the answers to his questions and perhaps in a sense you did. You were his everything, all the answers and all the stars.

“I love you.” Your cheeks were probably hurting from grinning so much, you could never be angry at him.

You moved your face a little closer to his, pecking his nose and pulling back,

“I do too. I mean I don’t think I'd have kept up with your annoying ass for the past almost decade if I didn’t.”

Before he could go on a rant about how mean you were being, you moved again, placing your lips on his, effectively shutting him up as his hazy brain tried to comprehend his long time–lifetime– crush kissing him.

He would never get used to how you would make him feel like he’s a giddy boy in love all over again just from your mere actions. He’s probably been in love a trillion times by now but just with you and only you.

Mission be darned, if he could have you like this at the end of the day, he doesn’t think he’ll ever regret anything.

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

feedback is always appreciated 💌

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist !

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changbunnies · 2 months ago

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Suit Dance (18+)

♡ Pairing: CEO!Changbin x Office Siren!Reader

♡ Genre: office au, smut, porn with some plot, rich & sexy ceo trope but make him Subby™

♡ Word Count: 7.8k

♡ Summary: In which you discover that your ever strong and stoic looking boss wears dainty, pretty lingerie underneath his tailored suits.

♡ Warnings: hyunjin featured briefly as reader's office bestie, mild play fighting and 1 joke about strangling him

♡ Smut Warnings: uneven power dynamics (due to boss x employee relationship), power play, dom/sub dynamics, sub!bin, dom!reader, vaguely plus size reader, semi-public sex, slight exhibitionism, marking (with lipstick), mommy kink, nipple play, anal plug use, referenced masturbation, spit kink, praise kink, finger sucking, fingering (m rec), tiny bit of oral (m rec) and handjob, spit as lube, teensy tiny bit of edging. this is so unrealistic lmao but it's fiction so. just take it for what it is gdfsgdf

♡ Notes: back at it again with a self indulgent bin fic! written purely because i saw these pics on twitter and was immediately struck with the vision of changbin wearing it instead lmao and while i read a lot of fics involving anal play, this is my first foray into writing it myself so sorry if it isn't the best :')

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Throwing your hands up and over your head, you let out a soft noise of relief as you stretch, eager to return home and relax after a stressful week at the office.

Your manager has been on your ass the entire week about making sure your quarterly finance report is without flaw. “Mr. Seo has business ventures lined up that require an accurate reflection of the company’s spending and receiving of funds,” she repeatedly drilled into you– as if that isn’t always the case.

You don’t know what all goes into striking a deal and fostering a successful business partnership, really– you’re just paid to reflect the numbers, so that’s what you do; and you’ve never submitted a flawed report. Still, while you’re used enough to staring at numbers on a screen and inputting them into a balance sheet, scanning them extra carefully all week has really put a strain on your eyes.

You remove your glasses, toss them next to your keyboard and close your eyes as another sigh passes your lips. You slouch in your chair, rolling away from your desk ever so slightly as your legs stretch out. You can’t wait to sink into a bath once you get back to your apartment, maybe have a glass of wine to unwind while watching some trashy reality tv over dinner.

“Uh– Y/N?” a voice calls, and you shoot up in your seat, stiffening your posture– you relax when your brain finishes registering that it’s just Hyunjin. If it was your manager, Mrs. Kim, she surely would’ve ripped you a new one for slouching at work, the strict harpy that she is.

“Hey, sorry! Were you waiting up for me?” you ask as you scoot back over to your desk and grab your glasses to put back on. Hyunjin was one of the few coworkers you got along with beyond the expected professional level, so the two of you often chatted on your way out of the building. He was also Mr. Seo’s personal receptionist, and you envied that he got to stare at such perfection all day.

Mr. Seo is hot– really hot. All professionalism and sex appeal, with his perfectly styled dark hair and expertly tailored suits hugging his thick arms. You don’t cross paths with him as often as you'd like, stuck to your cubicle as you are, but God, the glimpse you got of him this morning was divine.

Dressed in a dark blue suit you were certain was designer, a circular silver pin stuck in the left lapel– the company’s logo, which he always wore proudly. He had on two chains– one a pretty, mixed gold-silver resting on his collarbones, probably worth more than you make in an entire year. His other chain is pure silver and long, hung low on his chest, ending just above the first button of his stupidly beautiful suit.

There’s no button-up or other such dress shirt worn underneath the suit– just purely bare, tanned skin. The small glimpses you got of his bare chest nearly made you drool– and when he rounded the corner to get to his office, and you got a glimpse of his tight slacks hugging his thick thighs and ass, Christ, you don’t know how you managed to keep yourself together.

You loved looking at Mr. Seo, but it was probably best for your sanity, and your work performance, that you didn’t have too much exposure to him. And it was most certainly a good thing that you weren’t his receptionist– you don’t think you’d get through the myriad of phone answering and appointment scheduling successfully if you had such eye candy in front of you for hours a day, 5 days a week.

“No, I’m just supposed to tell you that Mr. Seo wants to see you,” Hyunjin says, and you blink– once, twice, brain struggling to process what you’ve been told. Mr. Seo wants to see you? You think you’re going to combust on the spot from just the thought alone of having a personal meeting with him.

“D-Do you know why?” you question with an embarrassing stutter that you hope Hyunjin will ignore. “Nope, he just asked me to let you know to see him before I leave for the weekend,” he replies and you swallow, nerves suddenly threatening to eat you alive.

And it's not just because you’ll be alone with someone you’ve been thirsting after for months. The most pressing issue is that even putting your attraction to Mr. Seo aside, he is still very much your boss, even if he doesn't often personally oversee your work.

You emailed him your report just moments ago, so surely he hasn’t had the chance to look through the whole thing yet.. Fuck, what if there’s a mistake right at the start? You’d be mortified– and surely it’d be grounds enough to fire you given how vital this report is to his upcoming business plans.

Hyunjin sees the apprehension and can’t help but giggle as he reassures you. “Relax! He seemed like he was in a good mood, I’m sure it’s nothing bad. Trust me, I’ve seen Mr. Seo angry, and he’s definitely not right now. Maybe you’re finally getting that raise you’ve been gunning for.”

You appreciate Hyunjin’s positive input, but you doubt that– if it was a raise, you’d be having a discussion about it with HR and your manager, as you have every time before; someone as high brass as Mr. Seo simply doesn’t have the time to talk to every person receiving a raise individually. A promotion..? Same situation– the decision for you to receive one is his, but you doubted he would see you personally over it.

That’s what your manager is for, after all– Mrs. Kim is essentially his mouthpiece, having discussions about these things with you and overseeing your duties herself so that Mr. Seo can put more of his focus on keeping the business going in the direction he wants. Still, Hyunjin said he doesn’t seem to be upset, so..

Maybe it is something good! Maybe your manager and the head of HR have been called to his office too, and you’ll all discuss an appropriate reward for all the effort you’ve been putting in. Maybe you can squeeze in a deal for more vacation time too, if you’re lucky.

"Or maybe he found out about all your dirty fantasies about him, and now he's calling you to his office to–” Hyunjin starts, and you bolt up from your chair, swiftly shutting him up with a smack to the arm. “Oh my god, stop! Shut up!” you cry as he simply laughs, swatting away the hand you slap him with.

“Should I still wait for you?” he asks when the giggling subsides, and you quickly shake your head as you turn back to your desk to start shoveling your belongings in your bag. “Nah, I don’t wanna keep you waiting if the talk goes on long. I’ll see you on Monday! ..hopefully,” you mutter the last word as you pick up your bag, still not entirely sold that this abrupt meeting is a positive one.

Hyunjin, being a menace to your nerves, shoots you a wink and a “good luck!” after you wish him a good weekend. You think you’ll strangle him when you see him on Monday– if you’re still lucky enough to have a job here, that is. You walk out of your cubicle block, swallowing as you step past your fellow coworkers who are all similarly readying to leave, and up to Mr. Seo’s large office door.

It’s glass, and typically he’d be able to see you apprehensively standing there waiting, but the blinds are currently pulled closed. Should you knock? He’s expecting you, but all of a sudden you aren’t sure how to act– the last thing you want to do is be impolite. Still, maybe it’d be worse to keep him waiting– his time is extremely valuable, after all. So tentatively, you knock on the black frame of the door.

“Come in,” you hear him call out, and with one more breath to steel your nerves, you take the knob into your hands and open the door. And fuck, he’s alone– your manager and the head of HR are nowhere in sight. You’re going to have a solo meeting with Mr. Seo. God, please help me, you cry internally as you take a careful step inside, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?” you do your best to keep your voice steady as you look at him, pensively standing no more than a few inches away from the door. You’ve never been more nervous in your entire life– and when he looks up from the papers on his desk to address you, your heart nearly stops; he’s just too gorgeous.

“Don’t just stay by the door, please, come in,” he reiterates, motioning for you to come further into the room and take a seat at his desk with his hand. Again you swallow, taking small steps away from the glass door, your heels clacking on the sleek wood with each step.

His office is so luxurious– and you’re certain it’s bigger than your entire apartment. Floor to ceiling windows that take up the entire wall behind him and show the impressive expanse of the city, the sky turning a darker shade of blue as the sun disappears behind the other skyscrapers. Impressive bookshelves full top to bottom, with not just books but awards he's won throughout his life, as well as decorative art pieces.

He has well cared for plants in every corner, two sofas for additional seating, and a chandelier that rivals any you’ve ever seen in its extravagance. There’s a large rug underneath his desk and the opposite chairs, and your heels quiet as you step on it, carefully pulling one of the chairs back to sit.

It’s comfortable, the same shade of rich mahogany as his desk, and you practically sink into it. Despite that, you do your best to keep a good posture after setting your bag on the opposite chair; sitting up straight, hands folded in your lap as you cross one leg over the other.

Your skirt squeezes against your thighs in this position, but you’d rather be caught dead than have an informal posture in front of the CEO of your company. He’s looking at his papers again, and heat, as well as apprehension, spreads through your body when he looks up at you once more– but mostly, it’s heat; how and why is he so attractive?

You’re so rarely given the opportunity to be this close to Mr. Seo– and there’s still a large desk between you that gives you a fair amount of distance, but you’re able to drink him in much more than you usually can. His eyes, that normally appear quite piercing and stern, are always much softer up close– all of his features are soft, really.

Round cheeks, soft nose, defined chin that somehow isn’t harsh in appearance despite how sculpted he is. His lips are so pink, look so soft and plush, in the prettiest pouty shape. Cute, handsome, pretty, sexy– he’s all of it in one package. You want him bad.

Mr. Seo has expensive-looking round earrings on that you realize you failed to notice earlier, perfectly matching his necklaces. A ring too, you note as he turns back to his papers to flip a page– gem black as his hair, but with the same silver as the rest of his jewelry encircling it. He’s so stylish– it’s almost enough to make you salivate with desire.

It’s almost astonishing how you can still thirst for him while this concerned over your livelihood– but he’s so undeniably handsome and perfect that you just can’t seem to help it. If this ends up being your last day here, you don’t think it’s the money you’ll miss the most– it’ll most definitely be seeing Mr. Seo in all his impressive glory.

Finally, he holds out the tiny, stapled stack of papers in his hand to you, gesturing for you to take them to look at. “Mrs. Kim went over this with you, correct? You recognize it?” he asks, watching you carefully as you run your eyes over the top page. “This is my review from last quarter..?” you say, an air of uncertainty in your voice. Fuck. You really are getting fired.

“Did I make a mistake since then? Do something wrong?” you question, doing your best not to fall into your anxious habit of chewing on your bottom lip. It’s also taking everything in you not to start unloading a string of apologies over the finance report you emailed him, convinced by this point that you suffered a major performance dip and sent him a report chock full of mistakes.

Even at his angriest, Mr. Seo never grilled or chewed out his employees– but you almost think the look of sincere disappointment he’d give you before firing you would be worse than the anger. “No, don't worry! The opposite, actually,” he reassures you, so sweetly and genuinely that it sends you reeling.

The relief that should come with realizing you aren't being fired or scolded doesn't even hit you, because all your brain latches on to is how beautiful his smile is. Negative or positive, you come to the conclusion that this will be the most difficult meeting of your life– he’s just too stunning; your poor heart can’t take it.

“I realized that a mistake was made in regards to your raise– you actually should’ve been given more. It is not my intent to undercut the value of my employees, and I sincerely apologize for the error,” Mr. Seo stands to bow to you, and the axis of your world tilts further off balance. Mr. Seo, the most successful man you’ve ever known, whose net worth is easily millions upon millions of won, is bowing to you?

“Your work is always done diligently and accurately, and it keeps my business going smoothly– and to make up for the error, I’d also like to offer you a bonus on top of immediately rectifying your salary. A sum that is equal to what you would’ve received these past few months had your raise been accurately relayed and processed sooner.”

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. It’s true that you were upset when your raise was only a few measly cents, but you assumed that was intentional, that you just needed to work harder– and surely, the mistake isn’t Mr. Seo’s fault. If anything, it’s definitely your harpy of a manager Mrs. Kim's doing– she should be the one groveling at your feet. The fact that he’s even apologizing to you for it is insane. In what world does it make sense for him to grovel to and appease you?

You suppose it isn’t just his business smarts that make him such a good CEO, but his ability to take responsibility like this, and his genuine care for the members of his team. But that’s not even what’s at the forefront of your mind anymore– what has really captured your focus is the glimpse of pretty, white lace you see peeking out under his suit, deliciously hugging his pecs.

Surely this isn’t real– you must’ve fallen asleep at your desk, and are having a fever dream from the stress of the week. Surely Mr. Seo isn’t actually wearing lingerie underneath his suit, right? That would be crazy– not even in your wildest fantasies would you ever be met with such a sinfully delectable sight.

He doesn’t smooth out or adjust his suit nearly enough when he rises back up, and the edges of the intricate lace continue to peek out from behind his lapels. Your eyes stay transfixed on it, the urge to drool over Mr. Seo the strongest it’s ever been as every subsequent word he says goes straight through one ear and out the other.

You lick over your drying lips, swallow thickly, unable to focus on anything but the entrancing visage of pure white lace squeezing his muscles. Your body was already running hot just from being in his presence, but now it feels like a furnace, mind racing as you consider how much more lace there is beneath his suit.

How much skin does it cover? How little? And maybe if you were paying more attention to literally any part of him besides the lace on his pecs, you would’ve noticed the shiver that traveled through his body after he stood back up right, or the slight flush to his cheeks.

He thinks you did notice from the way you stare at him, but then he realizes your gaze is focused solely on one specific place– his chest. Even without glancing down at himself, he realizes what caught your attention– it causes his cheeks to flush a deeper pink, an awkward cough leaving him as he finally rights his suit, and obscures the lace beneath it.

Lace out of sight, your trance is broken, and your eyes return to Mr. Seo’s face. You’ve never, absolutely never, seen him so red and timid. “Uh, I–” he starts, but for perhaps the first time in his professional life, he is left at an utter loss for words. “J-Just– pretend you didn’t see that, please,” he quickly mumbles a moment later as he returns to sitting in his chair, hoping you once again fail to notice the way he shivers when he’s sat.

You’re both professionals– surely you can move on from this and go on as if nothing happened without making things around the office awkward. No, you think immediately– you know you’ll never be able to scrub the delectable image of lace over his toned, honeyed skin out of your brain; it’s already rooted itself much too deeply.

Except when you watch his eyes widen before his brows furrow, you realize you accidentally said “no” audibly. “..No?” he questions, and you already know you’ve dug yourself into a hole; but you can’t take it back now that it’s been said, so you may as well commit. “I mean– it was very pretty, Sir. You’re very pretty. I don’t think I can forget about it.”

He blinks, blush slowly crawling its way to his ears as the information soaks in. And though it’s certainly grounds for a swift and stern dismissal in ordinary circumstances, he entertains the compliment, workplace code of conduct be damned. “You think I’m pretty?” he questions, and it almost makes you laugh. Is water wet? Is the sky blue? Is grass green? Yes, he’s pretty!

“With all due respect, I thought that was obvious, Sir,” you answer, surprising even yourself with how forward a statement it is– never in a million years did you think you’d admit how attractive you think Mr. Seo is to his face. “Obvious that I’m pretty, or obvious that you think so?” he tilts his head as he asks, and smiles– one that is as shy as it is devastatingly charming.

To see him smile at you in such a way sends a whirlwind of emotions through you, the most potent of them being desire. There’s an eager glint in his eyes, one that you’re sure you match– maybe even surpass. You’re self aware enough to realize your ogling of him when he walks in a room is noticeable– it wouldn’t surprise you if he’d been aware of it all this time.

And maybe, just maybe, he too has been waiting for an opportunity like this to present itself. Maybe he likes the way you stare at him with pure, unfiltered want. Maybe the tight blouses and skirts you wear make him crazy, always hugging your curves just right. Maybe his skin runs hot when he sees red lipstick stains lingering behind on your coffee mug, imagining that same mark covering every inch of his body.

He shouldn’t feel this way, he knows, he’s your boss for God’s sake– but he’s also only human; and he can’t keep resisting the call of you, the veritable siren in his office. How many more of those dark gazes of lust behind your thick, rectangular glasses is he supposed to be able to take? How many more times is he supposed to pretend he doesn’t notice the way you bite your lip as you look him over?

Truthfully, it was an accident that you saw the lace decorating him beneath his suit– but he can’t find it within himself to complain about it. Unintentional though it certainly was, he finds himself eager to take this opportunity to pursue you. Reason and responsibility lost, he follows his deepest, most base desires– he wants to indulge your hunger for him, wants to let you consume him, body and soul.

“Can’t both be true?” you ask as you toss the report he handed you aside and inch yourself closer to the desk, all sense of timidity within you evaporating now that he’s entertaining your blatant desire for him. “I think you’re well aware you’re pretty. I think you know you make everyone crazy,” you rest your elbows on the desk, leaning forward as you speak, “I think you know everyone wants you.”

You offer Mr. Seo your prettiest grin as you watch him swallow, his eyes traveling down to your blouse, where the top most buttons lie undone and offer him an enticing view of your cleavage. “A-And you– you want me?” he asks, slowly directing his gaze back up to your eyes; a question that is perhaps silly at this point, but that he wants the verbal confirmation of regardless.

“May I be forward, Sir?” you ask, gauging how deep his interest in you really runs, how honest you’re truly allowed to be about your desire. Your smile grows when he utters a rather meek yet eager “yes” in response. “I’ve always wanted you, from the very first moment I saw you,” you tell him candidly, “I want to kiss you, I want to touch you, and I want to see what other pretty things you have underneath your suit.”

“I-I see,” he says shakily, very nearly squirming in his seat from how intently you stare at him, the burning desire you have for him palpable. The tension is strong, and now it’s up to him to release it– with just a word, the dam holding you both back will break, the fervorous flood of lust all consuming; and despite how much he shouldn’t, it’s all he wants.

“Kiss me, please,” his plea comes out in an airy lilt; conceding to his desires, he surrenders all of himself to the irresistible temptation. You rise from your chair, round the desk to approach him, and he watches in breathless anticipation. The few steps it takes to reach him feel so impossibly slow, and his heart feels like it’s thundering in his chest; he can even feel the sweat building on his brow as he waits for you to finally touch him after all this time.

Placing your hand on the top of his chair, you push it, making him swivel to face you. His breath catches in his throat as he stares up at you, eyes swimming with need. Your fingertips just barely brush over the bit of bare chest peeking through the v-line of his lapels, but it’s enough to send goosebumps over his heated skin.

You hook your finger into his long, silver chain, tug on it just enough to urge him to lean up to meet you. He shivers as he shifts in his seat, has to suppress the whine that threatens to rise from his throat when your lips just barely touch his, a phantom of a feeling left behind. And make no mistake, you want him bad– but you don’t want to rush; you’ve wanted this for too long to do anything but relish in having him in your grasp.

When you return to him, you press your lips to the corner of his mouth instead of kissing him directly, leaving the prettiest trace of lipstick behind. And even despite the ardency he feels to have you, he makes no move to hurry you along; because when you finally kiss him, full and deep, it makes all the build up worth it– it’s true bliss, countless butterflies dancing in his stomach.

And truly, you intended to keep kissing him slowly– but now that you’ve felt his perfectly soft and full lips against your own, your restraint begins to evaporate. You wanted to take your time, to indulge in the sensation– but when you lick over his lips, and he eagerly allows you entrance into his mouth, you get the impression that he can’t hold himself back from his desires either.

The kisses quickly grow messy, your hands urgently popping open the buttons of his suit. You’re trying to be careful to not rip the buttons off, knowing very well how expensive his clothes must be– but even if you did completely ruin it, he wouldn’t have found it within himself to care. He can buy a new suit, doesn’t give a shit about how much it’d cost– your lips and hands on him are far more important.

Buttons successfully undone, you push the suit off his shoulders, and he quickly pulls his arms out of the sleeves, freeing himself from the fabric. You pull away from the kiss, bring your hand to his face, trace your thumb over your lipstick lingering on his lips and further smear it over his skin. It’s a dark red, pretty mess, starkly contrasting the dainty elegance of white lace hugging his body below.

“You’re beautiful, Mr. Seo,” you breathe, utterly mesmerized by the sight of him. You trace your fingers over the scalloped edges of the lace on his chest, follow it down until it stops just above his stomach. It covers his arms as well, up to the edges of his deltoids. The bulk of muscle beneath looks so tantalizing– it’s positively mouth watering.

“Changbin,” he speaks up, and you look at him curiously, a slight smile playing on your lips. Of course, you know it's his name– it’d be astonishing if you didn’t know your boss’ full name; you’re just pleasantly surprised he wants to drop the formalities. “Call me Changbin, please– o-or Bin, or Binnie! I– I’d like that more.”

“Of course, Binnie,” you smile sweetly as you call his name, and though it’s such a simple indulgence, it makes his cock throb in his slacks. You can see it, hard and straining against the tight fabric– you’re positive it’s uncomfortable, thick as he seems to be. You run your fingers over his belt, tracing the buckle. He watches with labored breaths, trying not to squirm in his seat from the anticipation.

“What’s my name?” you suddenly ask him, and he says it in a question, brows slightly furrowing– do you think he doesn’t remember it? He pouts as he waits for you to speak again, and you giggle ever so slightly before you do. “Mhm, but what do you want it to be?” you ask and oh, fuck– you’re asking what title he wants to call you by, he realizes.

“A-Ahh, uhm–” Changbin hesitates, swallows the lump in his throat, face burning as you look him over expectantly. Fuck, everything about this situation is so unreal– but if he’s already come this far with you, why shouldn’t he allow himself further indulgences? Why not give in to what his deepest desires are?

“M-Mommy, you’re– you’re my mommy,” he finally forces the words out, face and ears positively on fire as he waits for your reaction. Oh, that’s what he likes? Your smile grows, and you sweetly caress his face, enjoying the feeling of heat radiating off his cheeks.

“Binnie needs his mommy to take care of him, doesn’t he?” your question makes him whine, nodding his head in a shameless, eager display. He’s so unbearably hot, his erection strains against his tight pants, his skin tingles as you trail your hand back down to his chest– he wants and wants and wants. Touch him everywhere, kiss him everywhere, talk to him sweetly as you go– he needs it.

Very little lipstick remains on your lips after all the kissing you’ve done, but the last traces of it end up on his neck, trailing downwards as you kiss and lick every inch of skin you come in contact with. You run your hands over his torso, squeezing him from the bulk of his arms to the soft edges of his waist, delighting in the soft, breathy whines and moans you pull from him.

You return to his lips at the same time your fingers find his nipples, and he mewls into your mouth as he squirms, the sensation of your tugs and pinches through the lace almost overwhelming. No, it is overwhelming– but he likes it too much to ask you to do any different. And the more you play with his nipples, the squirmier he gets, his hands harshly gripping the armrest of his chair in an effort to ground himself.

You fall to your knees, and he watches breathlessly as you press kisses over his pecs until you eventually reach one of his perked nipples. He keens when you take it in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it over the lace. He gasps when you suck on it, his nails trying their best to dig into the unyielding leather cushioning his armrest.

“Does my Binnie like having his nipples played with like this?” you ask before you run your tongue over this other one. He whines, writhing in place as you resume pinching and tugging on the one that was just in your mouth, the lace now soaked with your saliva adding even more to the delicious friction.

“L-Like it– like it so much, mama,” he finally answers in a shudder, voice squeaky and high pitched. He gasps when you graze your teeth over his nipple, head falling back and another loud moan drawing out of him when you gently bite it. He’s so sensitive, can’t stop himself from shivering and squirming under your diligent touch.

He moans again when you lean up to kiss him, your hand traveling down and down, until your hand reaches his belt again. “Will you take these off for me?” you ask, tugging ever so slightly on the buckle. You could do it yourself, of course, but you like the idea of watching him undress himself for you– and from the way he eagerly nods, you conclude that he likes the idea too.

You smile at him before you rise back up to your feet and you take a step away from him, resting yourself comfortably against his desk while you wait for him to start. He glances at his door first– he knows it’s unlocked, but the blinds are drawn closed, at least; even if someone heard him, they hadn’t seen anything happening in the room.

He looks at his windows next– tall and expansive, not a single curtain in sight; the view it affords him is normally well worth the lack of privacy curtains would provide, but when he considers how naked he’s about to be in front of them, it makes his heart race faster. But you’re so high up– surely, no one from the street will see anything.

And if someone from the skyscrapers sitting opposite of his building happens to see, well.. He supposes he’ll just have to hope they enjoy the show they’ll be receiving. Changbin rises from his chair, and with trembling hands he fumbles with his belt, doing his best to unbuckle it quickly. Once done, he proceeds with undoing the button of his slacks and pulling down the zipper.

Given how tight his slacks are, they don’t fall down his legs just because the button has been undone and the zipper has been pulled down– he has to make a purposeful effort to remove them. He glances at you, notes how intently you watch him, ready and eager to see all of him– and that desire you harbor for him encourages him to go beyond the shyness that grips him.

Pulling them down over the swell of his ass, the first sight you’re met with is more white lace, perfectly matching the top he still has on. Your heart feels like it’s positively going to burst from the view of his cock– short but impossibly thick, pressed down by dainty lace, leaking pre-cum and turning the otherwise pure white translucent.

Your breathing grows more labored just looking at it, and God, as if you weren’t already on the brink of drooling over him before– you absolutely need his cock in your mouth. But still, there’s more for you to see– so you sit patiently, swallowing as you wait for him to keep undressing himself for you.

He has to bend over to pull his pants down his thighs, and his blush darkens when he notices you quite blatantly leaning to the side to look at his ass from his peripheral. There’s a glimpse of something shiny between his cheeks under the lace, and it makes you gasp with surprised delight. Changbin himself closes his eyes, trying not to let out a flustered whine when he realizes you’ve noticed it.

A plug rests inside him, shiny steel with a pretty pink gem in the center in the shape of a heart. Has he had it inside all day? The thought makes you dizzy– and suddenly all the times he’d shivered after moving makes sense. “Gosh, wearing this to work– you’re so dirty Binnie,” you muse happily, and he whines, wishing for nothing more than to cover his face behind his hands.

Though it’s obvious by this point that you like it, he’s hesitant to meet your gaze after stepping out of his slacks and standing back upright. But you can’t have that– so you grab his face, making him turn to you. “You’re so sexy, it’s unbelievable,” you tell him before you kiss him again, and he easily melts into it, nerves evaporating with your lips back on his.

Changbin can’t help being shy, but your desire for him makes it more bearable to push through– and the more you kiss him, the more floaty he feels. You reach behind, blindly and hastily shove everything off his desk before you turn him around, and guide him to sit on it. Neither of you pay any mind to the loud clatter the objects make hitting the floor, or of how mixed up any unstapled papers he had there will become– you’re much too absorbed in the feeling of one another.

You instruct him to lean back when you pull away from kissing him, and he listens in a heartbeat, tipping himself back on his desk. He props himself on his elbows, watches as you bring your hand to his cock, still contained by lace panties. He gasps when you squeeze it through the fabric, whines when you trail your fingers further down and press on the plug still nestled between his cheeks.

“What were you prepping for, hmm? Tell mommy about it,” you say, and again he squirms as he tries to speak, the blush on his face flaring. “I-I– Binnie was gonna–” he stumbles on his words, voice quivering, and he has to close his eyes to try to focus on getting what he wants to say out effectively.

Waking up this morning feeling naughty, he knew he wanted to fuck himself– got himself ready bright and early, so that by the time he got home tonight he’d be nicely stretched and ready for his favorite dildo. He was going to suction it to the floor, ride it while he fisted his cock with one hand and tug on his nipples with the other, close his eyes and imagine it was someone else sweetly playing with him.

The lingerie was to make him feel pretty– and looking at himself in the mirror before pulling his suit on, he really felt he was; he was giddy with the feeling of being sexy and cute simultaneously. He liked knowing it was there under his suit, liked feeling the lace against his skin, liked how much it contrasted the rest of his physique.

He’s trying to tell you as much, knows even without seeing your face how expectantly you’re waiting to hear it– but he struggles embarrassingly, because he can feel your hand stroking his cock over his panties. All he can do with his eyes closed is focus on the sensation your hand grants him– so he opens his eyes again, forcing himself to keep eye contact with you as he speaks.

“A-Ahh– Binnie was gonna– gonna fuck himself,” he admits, trying not to whine from the way you pleasantly coo and smile at him. “Mommy can fuck you,” you tell him sweetly, and God, he feels like he could cum from the words alone. “Would you like that? Want my fingers to fill you up?” you ask, and he nods so fast it almost makes him dizzy.

“Yes! Please, please, fuck me, need it so bad, please–” he begs, and you coo at him as your fingers slip under his panties, once again finding the plug he has nestled inside. He lifts his legs, holds himself under the knees to make your task easier– and it’s effort on his muscles, but what has he spent so much time building them up for if not this?

“You’re ready for me to take it out?” you ask, watching him carefully– he certainly seems eager enough, but you don’t want there to be any unpleasant surprises. “Ready, ‘m ready, do it please,” Changbin pleads, desperate to feel you inside– he wants it, needs it, more than he feels he can vocalize; but he’d certainly try his best if you asked him to.

You kiss him sweetly, shove his lace panties to the side as much as you can manage too and swallow his whines as you slowly and carefully pull the plug out of his hole. You put it on his desk, but it rolls right off, hitting the floor with a dull thud– not that he cares about it right now; he’ll retrieve it later. All he can think about is how empty he feels now, but how deliciously your fingers will replace the feeling, and make him full again.

He prepped himself well, was diligent in his use of lube– but you still want to get your fingers plenty wet and slick before you try to slide them in. He watches you bring two of your fingers to your mouth, utterly mesmerized by the way they disappear into your mouth, how shiny they are with your saliva when you pull them out.

You spit on them too for good measure when you’re finished coating them, and he licks his lips as he stares at your fingers– again, he wants, wants, wants. You notice it, of course you do– the blatant yearning in his gaze, how he licks his parted lips once more, how he practically drools as he stares.

“Want to help me get them wet, sweet boy? Want them in your mouth?” you smile as you ask, amusedly tilting your head. “Or was it me spitting on them that you liked? Should I spit on you too?” “Both, please, want both,” he answers in a hurry, utterly shameless. “Is that so?” you ask with a grin that sends a shiver down the length of his spine.

“Open your mouth for me Binnie, show me your tongue,” you instruct, and he complies obediently, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue for you. He moans when you spit on it, and again when you press your wet fingers into his mouth. He closes his lips around them, diligently swirls his tongue around your digits before he sucks.

He gags when you press them in further, the tips of your fingers brushing against the back of his throat. His eyes water, saliva pools in his mouth and dribbles down the corners, and it’s so utterly entrancing that you just have to praise him. “So good for me, Binnie’s such a good boy,” you coo, and he keens as he quickly nods his head, as if to say ‘I am! I’m a good boy for you!’

Changbin almost wants to whine when you slip your fingers out of his mouth, but then you slide your slicked fingers over his waiting hole, and all he can do is gasp and whimper. “Mommy’s gonna fuck you now,” you tell him, voice so saccharine it makes his head spin– he still can’t believe this is really happening, but he’s so happy that it is.

He jolts when you easily slide two of your fingers inside, his cock twitching against the lace panties still holding it down. There’s very little resistance thanks to the plug that was in prior and how slick he and your fingers are, but you still take it slow, carefully watching him for discomfort. Ultimately, you sense none– all he feels his pleasure, licking over every inch of his body.

“Look at you, you take it so well,” you praise as you watch your fingers disappear into his hole, and he whines as he watches with you. He whimpers loud and pretty when you curl your fingers into his spot, his head falling back as he bites his lip. He’s trembling all over, he’s seeing stars behind his closed eyes, he can hardly breathe when you start to thrust your fingers expertly in and out.

“Feels good, Binnie?” you ask him, and God, it’s so hard to speak like this, but he does his best for you. “F-Feels so– so good, mama, Binnie feels so good,” he cries, jolting again when you spit on his hole, adding more to the wetness so you can easily add a third finger. His breath catches in his throat when it’s fully inside, his eyes rolling back as he gasps and moans.

Your eyes travel to his cock, twitching and throbbing where it lies neglected, pre-cum still steadily leaking from the tip. You stop moving your fingers for just a moment, sink to your knees and lick at his cock over the lace still containing it. “O-Oh, mommy– oh my God–” he gasps as he lifts his head back up to look at you.

It’s such a dirty sight, and he can hardly handle the way you stare back at him through your glasses. His back bows off the desk when you start moving your fingers again, that moan that follows obscenely pornographic. He feels so hot, body trembling, thighs twitching– he’s already so, so close. “‘m gonna cum,” he whines his warning, his hands desperately grabbing at his desk as he feels his orgasm build deep in his stomach, “Please, can I? L-Let me cum, please mama–”

He whines when you stop, his impending orgasm ebbing away as you rise back to your feet. You grab his face, make him look at you before you resume the motion of your fingers– and when you squeeze his cheeks, he knows what to do. He opens his mouth for you, sticks out his tongue, obedient and eager.

He moans when you spit on it, swallows it like the good boy he is and opens his mouth for more after. “You’re so dirty,” you comment, letting go of his face to slip your hand into his panties, and wrap your hand around his cock. You spit in his mouth once more, now fisting his cock to the same rhythm of your fingers thrusting inside and hitting his spot.

His eyes roll back as he swallows it all, a steady stream of whimpers leaving as his toes curl. “Mommy, I-I’m–” he trembles, release so close he isn’t sure he can hold it back; he'll try if you tell him to, but– “cum, gonna– gonna cum, please, I can’t– mama, please–”

“Let go, sweet boy, cum for me,” you urge him, and he wants to thank you– but it hits him so hard, all he can do is cry. You can continue to stroke him through it, his cum releases in thick spurts, coating your hand and soiling his panties. You don’t stop until he starts to writhe from the oversensitivity, gently releasing his cock and sliding your fingers out of him as he lies breathless against the desk.

His eyes are closed, heart racing as he lies limp, utterly exhausted from the intensity of his orgasm. You look to the floor, find the tissue box that previously rested on his desk and grab a few to clean your hand up with, as well as gently wipe away the cum that seeps out of his panties.

Changbin smiles at you sheepishly when you wipe the sweat from his brow, and kisses you after you help him sit back up. “Are you thirsty?” you ask him, rounding the desk to retrieve your bag from your chair. You pull out a water bottle, and he accepts it graciously, thanking you after he takes a few big sips. You both giggle when he tries to stand, but quickly realizes he’s still wobbly in the legs, so you help him get dressed too.

He can't help but give you another shy smile as you help him smooth over suit, giggling happily when you kiss him afterwards. He knows he’s still fairly debauched– after all, his face is still impossibly flushed, his skin is still running hot, and there’s lipstick marks all over him that can’t easily be wiped off with a few tissues; but he likes it.

He just hopes that no one made the decision to pull some over time– it’d save him a lot of embarrassment leaving the building if you’re the only two left. But speaking of leaving.. “Uhm– Y/N,” he calls you timidly just as you both finish re-tidying his office, and tilt your head as you hum in question, giving him your full attention. “Will you– will you have dinner with me?” he asks, the faded blush returning when you beam a smile at him.

“For business or pleasure?” you tease him, and he huffs as you giggle. “Pleasure,” he replies meekly, hoping you’ll come home with him after; he’ll return the favor then, do everything he possibly can to make you feel as good as you made him feel. “I’d love to, Changbin,” you tell him, giving him one more kiss before you link your hand in his; and he smiles at you before you leave the building together hand in hand, with the night still young and so much more fun still to be had.

network tags: @ksmutsociety

#ksmutsociety #skz x reader #changbin x reader #skz smut #changbin smut #sub!skz #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #pls ignore the fact that i started and finished a new fic instead of working on all the wips i've had for months fdgfdgdf #also in case you missed it my posts may be even more sporadic than usual cause i'm dealing with health issues rn // sorry in advance!

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joshfutturman · 10 months ago

Text

"good boy" 18+

oneshot (request) - inexperienced virgin failure josh futturman asks the reader over for some 'video games' (4.4k words) pairing - josh futturman (future man) + reader (no gendered pronouns, reader is afab) tags: utter filth lol, porn with tiny plot, dom/sub, dom!reader, sub!josh, LOTS of good boy mentions, oral both receiving, penetration, kissing, no use of y/n, missionary, slight dumbification ig, lots of wet mentions lmao, orgasm control, probs more i cant remember rn

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

the janitor from work was cute in a nerdy, adorable yet super naive way. in passing he'd attempt to flirt with you at your reception desk, attempt being the keyword here. but you'd flirt back, stronger and harder - which most of the time simply flew over his dense little head.

"i'd love to see it sometime," you say enthusiastically, referring to his video game collection he'd rambled about for 10 minutes straight. again.

his face lights up and a smile tugs on the corner of his lips, "yeah? really? you should totally come over - i've been dying to play this new one i picked up on co-op. - i mean," he falters, "if you want to. . ."

oh my god. was he asking you over? finally? josh futturman asked you over to play video games in his bedroom. alone. score.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

notes: this was requested by @fatinhadesiners06 hehe, i hope you like it! tried to make josh as much of a virgin failure as i could but turns out that he's pretty good at eating pussy ig ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) officially the first smut ive written and finished

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

"i'd love to see it sometime," you say enthusiastically, referring to his video game collection he'd rambled about for 10 minutes straight. again.

oh my god. was he asking you over? finally? josh futturman asked you over to play video games in his bedroom. alone. score.

. . .

however, that's exactly what you do. you play video games together. on his cramped single bed.

it's not like you don't enjoy it, it's actually pretty sweet. he allows you to choose your character first, he guides you through the levels he knows off by heart, and he even offers you his favourite controller.

but you can't help but note the uncomfortable silence that lingers every so often. you notice him glancing at you in between games. you wonder what he's thinking about, is he thinking about how his hand would feel inside your underwear? how his fingers would get slick and glide over your folds and slip beneath the surface and - ...

well, you certainly know what you're thinking of.

high scores flash on the screen at the end of the level, yours and his. yours is a few hundred points higher to josh' surprise. this earns a loud laugh from you and a laugh from him, tossing his controller down in defeat.

"beat you at your own game." you tut and turn to him with a smirk.

josh grins and looks down at his lap with a shrug, "what can i say? you're pretty good at this."

scooting a little closer, you tilt your head, trying to catch his gaze again. "do you think so? or. . . do you just like it when i come out on top?" a hum sings from your lips.

his eyes widen and he looks at you with an arched eyebrow, finally catching on to at least one of your dirty jokes, or at least partially. it was about time. "it was only a two-hundred point difference." he says, glancing at your lips with an unsure smirk, "i'll dominate next time, for sure."

"who are you kidding, futturman." you whisper, leaning in towards his lips. "i was always going to be the one to dominate you."

you're both inches apart. you can hear how his breath hitches in his throat slightly with each inhale. shaking, his hand raises in an attempt to cup your cheek. but you reach up to grab it, lacing your fingers in his as your lips connect.

immediately, futturman melts into you. you swear you hear a whimper escape his lips as your tongue glides along his bottom lip, seeking entrance. he allows you in, squeezing your hand. he's sloppy, but you don't mind, you like it, actually. it's hot that he's so lost in it that he can't even control his tongue.

his other hand grips the bedsheets, knuckles turning white. he's trying to ignore how his cock is already twitching in his boxers, wondering if you're already wet. josh sighs your name into your lips and you take this as a sign.

your hand finds his crotch as your kiss intensifies and you begin to palm his hardened dick through his jeans, grinning. his mind goes blank and all he can focus on is the fact that your hand is on him, it's actually on him. this isn't just in his head. you're touching him and - fuck, it feels so good.

"you like that baby?" you ask him, his kissing growing sloppier and slower as his breath picks up. you're hardly touching him and he's already squirming under you. hot.

josh hums in response and you find his hand, bringing it to your skirt, slowly sliding it under to meet your growing heat. his fingers feel wetness through the material of your underwear and he swallows hard. gingerly, his fingers dance across your panties.

a giggle slips from your lips as you pull back slightly, ". . . is this your first time?" you ask with a smile.

he's taken aback by this question, suddenly embarrassed as his cheeks begin to flush. "i . . ."

"it's okay, i'll take care of you," you reassure him, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips, "don't worry."

it's time for you to take the lead and you remove your hand from his crotch, this earns a soft whine from him that causes you to bite your lip. placing a hand on his chest, you push him back slowly until he's flat on his back. carefully, you straddle him, sitting just below his waist.

your fingers find the button on his jeans and unbutton it at an excruciatingly slow pace. josh looks up at you with pleading eyes, panting softly as his tummy rises and falls with each breath. "are you. . ."

"i want to taste you." you admit, licking your lips as you unzip him, pulling his jeans down to reveal his boxers.

"f. . . fuck. . ." he whimpers, leaning up on his elbows to watch you.

the outline of his cock is clearly visible through his blue boxers, he's so hard already, it's adorable. josh' heart pounds as he eyes you, his dick springs free and he gasps at the cold air around it. he holds himself back from begging you to touch it in some way. you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little surprised by the girth, it makes your mouth water.

your warm hand wraps around him and his eyes glaze over, head tilting back. he swears he could cum right there just from your touch and if he looks at you again, he just might.

"look at me, baby." you whisper, beginning to pump him slowly. "i wanna see your face while i touch you."

josh pulls his head up, brows furrowing as he tries to slow his breathing. the strokes are slow and deliberate, he moans under his breath. watching him slowly come undone underneath you, you can't help but feel the pulsing of your wet cunt intensify.

lowering your head, his eyes begin to widen and before he can figure out something hot to say, your lips are on his cock. tongue swirling on the tip, he swears he's seeing stars. his trembling hand desperately reaches up to find the back of your head, lacing his fingers through your locks.

"holy fuck, that. . . that feels so good." he mumbles with a gasp as you begin to take his length into your mouth. a high-pitched whimper escapes him as he bucks slightly. you keep your eyes on him the full time, taking in as much of him as you can until he hits the back of your throat.

picking up pace now, you start bobbing on him, lapping your tongue all the while. josh is curling his toes, gripping your hair and whispering your name into his bedroom like he's trying his best to tell a secret. he wonders how he got so lucky, the way he'd fantasised about this constantly and for it to actually be happening? it was his lucky day.

he'd imagined you both at the lab, in the back room, he's bent you over and you're dripping wet. he slides in with ease and you call his name a little too loudly. or, behind reception, he would crawl beneath your desk and you'd spread your legs and he'd dive in like a man starved. or sometimes, you were in this very bed, your juices coating his sheets.

you swirl your tongue on the tip once more, causing him to let out a loud, pleading moan before pulling away with an obscene pop. this allows him to catch his breath slightly, but man - he was so close. it takes everything within him not to beg you to put those pretty lips of your back around his aching cock.

glancing over your shoulder, your eyes find his gaming chair and you grin. you wonder how many times he's jerked off in that overused thing, thinking of you. pumping his cock, wishing it was coated with your wetness instead of some cheap lube. calling your name into the palm of his hand as ropes of hot cum land on his soft tummy.

it drives you crazy just thinking about it.

and you need him, more of him.

you shuffle off the bed and walk towards the chair before sitting in it, facing him on the bed. legs spreading, you relax them over his armrests, exposing your underwear beneath your skirt. josh watches on, mouth agape, blinking.

"c'mon baby, don't you wanna taste me too?" you ask and his eyes sparkle. you've never seen him move so fast - he scrambles from the bed, boxers and jeans around his ankles. kneeling like he's about to pray for you, (and maybe he should, with the sinful images plaguing both of your thoughts), he looks up at you with that same puppy dog look.

"please," you whisper, exhaling, "i need you, josh."

he bites his lip at those words and has to actively try and suppress a moan. hearing you plead like that. . . fuck, you were so hot.

slowly easing closer, josh hooks two fingers into your underwear and pushes it to the side. your cheeks flush as your wetness is exposed to him, but you can see by the look on his face that he's elated.

"your pussy is so fucking pretty. . ." he exhales, gradually getting closer before his tongue begins desperately lapping at your dripping cunt. a squeal escapes you as you arch your back, finally getting the relief you need. his licking is messy, it's wet, he's drooling and mixing his saliva with your juices but it's so filthy it's hot.

your gaze finds his and watch as his nose glides up your folds. his name falls from your lips repeatedly as you reach for his head, getting a firm grip on those messy curls. you guide him higher with your grasp and his tongue finds your clit finally. it's so sensitive, you'd been edging for days leading up to this.

"s. . . slow." you purr, "i'm. . . i'm gonna- fuck, i'm gonna cum if you keep going so fast."

he abides, slowing his tongue on that spot you enjoy so much. his hand presses into your thigh, pushing your leg out further to get in closer. wetness drips down his chin as he laps long licks, stopping briefly and hesitantly only to begin sucking your clit gently. he looks up at you for your approval.

a gasp and your head is thrown back, fingers in his hair tightening. there's pleasure building in your core, little sparks working inside your belly as josh obediently eats you out.

"good boy," you manage to say through breathy moans, "good boy. . . you're doing so good for- for your first time. . ."

and it was true - though he was sloppy, clumsy and got a little lost in the moment, that only served to turn you on more. his inexperienced moves were endearing, they were hot, and it felt kinda good that you were the one to finally experience this with him.

small moans sing from his mouth at the pet name 'good boy' - and you make a mental note to call him that more often. this urges him on. he moves his hand to your pussy, massaging with two fingers around your tight hole, fluttering at the sudden contact. it takes him a few circles to find it properly before sliding one inside.

the chair almost tips back as you feel him slide in, his tongue back to flicking over that sensitive spot while his digit pumps into you. your hand grips the back of the fake leather chair, digging your nails in. it's not long before he inserts a second one, and though his rhythm is off with his poor coordination, it's such a relief to be filled, even if only a little.

hand combing through his hair, you look down at him, encouraging him with every moan. wet sounds fill the small bedroom now, between his tongue on your clit and his fingers exploring your slick hole. his dick is aching to be touched, desperate for any sort of friction as it spasms occasionally under the chair - but he'd stay here forever, eating you like this, if it meant he could hear those sounds sing from your lips.

"you sound so fucking hot. . ." he mumbles, the low vibrations of his voice against your pussy, sucking harder to increase your pitch and it works. you're almost there and you'll cum all over his sweet little face soon if you're not careful. who knew that josh futturman could be so good at eating pussy?

"-n. . . need you to fuck me," you blurt out, completely breathless. josh pulls back a little to look up at you fully with wide eyes, excitement piquing. the dim light from the television dances across him and you notice the lower half of his face is completely coated in your juices.

you continue, "you need to fuck me too, i bet. you're aching, aren't you? i bet you've been thinking about this for years." - and he had, fuck, he had. he'd lost count of the number of times he'd imagined you both here, a writhing, moaning, wet mess against each other.

"please, please let me fuck you." josh begged, fitting that he was on his knees. he looked good down there, you thought, pleading with his hands grasped together and that pathetic, lovable, pussy drunk expression of his as your wetness drips from his chin.

staying there for a few moments to admire him in this position, and to hear him beg just a little longer - you finally stand and step over him deliberately to watch him underneath you for just a little longer. wriggling out of your soaked panties, you throw them towards him and collapse back onto the single bed whilst removing your skirt. surprisingly, he catches your underwear and relishes how wet they feel in his palm.

you spread your legs once more for him and he watches in awe like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. wiping his chin a little, he scampers to you like a lost puppy, crawling up onto the bed and kicking his jeans and boxers off in the process.

he slots between your thighs and you see how his jaw goes slack when his dick brushes against your dripping cunt. you grab his chin, still a little wet, and pull him in for a deep kiss. when his tongue enters your mouth, you can taste yourself and it makes you smile. letting go of his chin, your hands roam to his hoodie, yanking it off and tossing it to the side. the only barrier between you both now was your damn shirts.

pushing him back, you begin to slowly pull your shirt up revealing your bra. josh bites his lower lip, swallowing hard as his eyes roam across your chest. his hands inch closer and you slap them away. "your shirt first." you tease.

he holds back a whine and removes his shirt, throwing it far across the room in frustration. "now, can i?" he hums, glancing at your chest and then back to you.

you wait a few moments, then a few more. and then nod.

your shirt isn't even fully off when his hands are desperately roaming your chest, squeezing both breasts as you gasp. his eyes glaze over as he continues to squeeze and you feel his dick twitch once more against your pussy. you begin to grind against him, his saliva and your wetness mixing against his cock.

holding back some moans, josh slips his hands behind your back to unhook your bra. it takes him a little longer than he'd have liked, and you arch your back a little to help him - but he finally removes it to reveal your chest.

between your perfect fucking body below him and the way you were slowly working his desperate cock along your pussy lips - he was in heaven. immediately he's sucking on a nipple, flicking his tongue over it with soft, breathy moans. you moan in return and cup the back of his head, petting him softly - "good boy," you whisper, "good, good boy. . ."

fuck, he loved it when you called him that. it lit a fire in his belly like he'd chase you to the ends of the earth just to hear you call him a good boy one more time.

he moves to your other nipple now, giving them both equal attention and you squirm a little, gripping his hair. the cold air drifts across your erect, soaked nipple he'd left behind but the coldness is quickly replaced by his fingers, rubbing.

"your tits are fuckin' perfect-" he mumbles with his nipple still in your mouth, pulling himself away finally as he begins to move in rhythm with you.

"josh." you say, commanding his attention with a sultry tone.

he snaps out of his dizzy state and looks at you.

"fuck me," you demand, reaching down to push his cock harder against your drenched cunt, "i need you inside of me. can you do that? can you be my good boy and fuck me?"

jesus fucking christ. josh wasn't sure he'd ever been this hard in his life.

josh nods with a whimper, it's so cute. he's so desperate. just as he begins to move into position, you reach up to grab his chin.

"use your words." you instruct him.

those hazel eyes widen, taking a breath to compose himself before nodding, "i'll fuck you. i'll be your good boy and fuck you." his voice wavers. he wants to be so good for you. he wants to be your good boy so badly, "please? please." josh pleads whinily.

"good boy." you grin and let go of his chin, trailing your hands down his chest and his soft tummy, taking great pleasure in grazing your fingers past his fuzzy snail trail.

lining himself up with your entrance, he makes a few sweeps with his cock, lubing it up and enjoying the feeling of your hole sucking his length in. his eyes glance to you for permission one final time and this makes your stomach flip, he's too fucking cute.

you signal, giving him permission with a nod and he slowly pushes inside of you.

he's slow, purposefully, so that one thrust doesn't cause him to immediately explode inside of you - cause the way you'd worked him up, it wouldn't be long before his cum was stuffed deep in there. your walls wrap around him so perfectly, his words get caught in his throat and all he can do is whine. but it feels so fucking good to finally have him inside of you. his thick fingers pumping into you were fine, sure, but his cock is what you craved all along.

your stomach tenses as he fills you completely, eyes locked on his to see him fully experience this for the first time.

"does that feel good, baby?" you ask him, trailing your hand across his lower stomach.

"s. . .so fuckin' tight- ah-" still, he can hardly speak, bottomed out inside of you with his cock pulsing, "so wet, so so fucking wet."

"just for you." you coo, beginning to roll your hips slightly to help him along. this earns a loud gasp from him, positioning his hands on your hips to get a proper grip on you. slowly, you both find a rhythm and he's thrusting inside of you at a slow pace.

each thrust has you moaning as you roll your hips to meet him, his strong grip on your hips only intensifying the feeling as he gets lost in the sensation. already, you can tell he's close - having almost finished him off earlier definitely adding to his desperation.

"faster," you tell him, gripping his stupid blue patterned sheets and holding one of his wrists in your other hand.

a whimper - no two - no three, falls from his lips as he picks up pace. josh is slamming into you now, his hands glide up the side of your body to meet your tits again and he leans over, unable to keep himself upright through the thrusts. his lips find yours once more, half to muffle his moans and half to ground himself a little.

over and over, his cock pumps into you speedily, creating loud, wet, slapping noises. you wrap your legs around him to pull him in deeper, closer and arch your back.

"-g...gonna. . . i'm. . ." his words are muffled by your lips and you pull back slightly, your breath mingling together as his eyes struggle to stay open through the pleasure.

"you gonna cum?" you ask with a grin, pulling his chin up for him to look at you.

"ah - yeah. . ." he swallows, and you squeeze around his dick causing him to whine loudly.

the thought of him exploding inside you had you close too. that girthy length was slamming you, over and over, slick from what he had done to you. josh was totally lost in the pleasure, sweat coating his brow as his hips worked hard to chase your climax and his own.

"can i?" josh suddenly asks, gasping for breath.

you deliberately don't answer, but moan louder and squeeze your cunt around him - you feel his rhythm waver in response.

"fuck - baby, please," he cries, locking eyes with you as his brow furrows, "please, i need to cum, please let me cum."

the words falling from his lips were so fucking hot, he was begging you for release. all he wanted to do was unload inside of you and he was pleading and wet and adorable. how could you possibly say no to that face?

"have you been a good boy?" you ask.

"yes!" he almost screams, "yes! i've been such a good boy, please, please. i need it, i need to cum in your tight, fuckin' perfect - ah, ah. . . - pussy, please." the words trip over themselves and he's really sweating now. the way he's pistoning into you, you can feel the desperation in every thrust of his hard cock.

"then cum, my good boy." you finally say, pushing him into you with your legs around his back for a hard deep thrust - and he keeps this up.

his whines heighten in pitch, going higher and higher as he gets a little rough. with each thrust, you're thrown back a little on the bed and it earns large explosive moans from you each time. his hands are back on your hips and he digs his fingers in, leaving harsh red marks.

you don't care though, watching him lose control is the hottest fucking thing you've ever seen. a desperate, whining, whimpering, cumming mess.

josh tries to announce it, let you know he's really about to cum, but all that comes out are breathy moans as his rhythm falters and his eyes start to roll back. you can feel it too, the way his cock is twitching and pulsing harder inside you. it brings your own climax closer, the inevitability of your pussy walls being painted white with all of his cum. . .

and though you try to hold off, you cum. lights flash behind your eyes as you reach out for him, pulling him by the back of the neck down to you. pressing your forehead to his, your hole flutters around him, squeezing and clamping down as your orgasm milks him - causing him to cum. ropes of hot, white cum fill you over and over, his mouth stuck half open.

you continue to grind through the orgasm, albeit with a faltering rhythm due to your climax, as he's mostly still beside the way his dick is jerking as it empties inside of you. his cum begins to leak out of you slowly with each grind you make against him and it causes you to gasp at the sensation. your moans fill his mouth, looking into his eyes as he struggles to make eye contact through the blinding pleasure. praises sing from your lips for him, coaxing him through it as you feel his movements slow to a halt.

he pulls out reluctantly and slumps against you with heaving breaths, his head falling on your chest with his cheek flush against your skin. his body is hot, and sticky. you begin to pet his head gently, your other hand tracing your fingers across his arm around you.

"that. . ." he pipes up, "- was amazing," josh tilts his head to look up at you with a dumb smile on his face.

"yeah?" you answer, smirking, "it was pretty fucking amazing, wasn't it?"

and you admire him like this, the way he's looking up at you with that familiar smile, practically with hearts in his eyes as your fingers pet through his hair. his eyes are sleepy, half-lidded - and the rest is deserved too, after what a good, hard-working boy he's been.

"you were so good for me." you lean down to kiss his forehead, peppering soft kisses all across it.

he giggles and snuggles against you closer, "stop - you'll get me goin' again." if his cheeks weren't already flushed from exertion, they'd be red once more.

"right, i'll save the praise for next time - since i know you love it so much." a grin tugs on your lips.

and he likes the sound of that.

his head suddenly springs up, his smile growing wider with his mouth half open, joy filling his face. ". . .next time?"

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msgexymunson · 1 year ago

Text

Prettiest Bitch

Description: you and Eddie have a special way of showing each other you care.

A/N: this is a real life fucking story of me and my partner lmao. Please like and reblog if you enjoy it sweetheart.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, established relationship, mean Eddie and mean reader but it's just fun and games, reader is AFAB, female oral receiving.

Masterlist

900 words

Laying on Eddie's sofa, you bask in the warm glow of being near him. Your legs were draped over his as you rifled through a book that you were barely paying attention to. Eddie's hand is up your loose pyjama pants, tracing soft circles on the bare skin of your calf.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah sweets?"

"You've always got to be touching me, don't you."

"Suppose so."

You smirk, pulling his hand out of your pants. He whines like a child that just got his favourite toy confiscated.

"Why?"

"Dunno, I just want your skin."

Laughing loudly, you scoot closer on your knees, just shy of climbing onto his lap.

"You want my skin? That sounds so fuckin' weird."

Eddie drops his voice into an odd gravelly gasp, the one he reserves for goblin NPCs when he's DM.

"Eddie wants it! Give Eddie your skin!"

Before you can react he's pulling you onto his lap, hands wandering up your top and stroking hard at the exposed flesh.

"You dumbass that tickles! Stop!"

"Never!" He doubles down his efforts, lifting your t-shirt and blowing a wet raspberry on your stomach. You try to lean away but he has you trapped.

Finally wiggling from his grasp in a fit of breathless giggles, your rump bumps heavily on the floor.

"You're an idiot, Munson."

"Yeah? Well you like me, so who's the idiot now?"

"Still you!" You flip him the bird and he pokes his tongue out at you at the same time.

Now eye level with the coffee table, a leaflet catches your eye.

"What's this? Hawkins County fair?"

Leafing through it, you hear Eddie's chuckle.

"Yeah, just a bunch of farmers showing off the size of their pumpkins and shit, it's so stupid."

"But look!" You wave the ad in his face as he rolls his eyes.

"Dog show Eddie! Dogs! Look, they've got categories and everything."

He goes to steal it out of your hands but you hold firmly on, reeling off some of the different categories.

"Senior dogs… there's one for puppies that's cute… oh haha look, prettiest bitch! I should enter." You nod at him and his gaze softens, sinking down to join you on the floor.

"Oh sweetheart" his thumb brushes your cheek as you melt under his gaze.

"You're not pretty."

Gasping, your eyes snap back open to see Eddie rolling on the floor gasping with fits of laughter.

"Edward James Munson! Gonna make you regret that!"

You straddle him, fingers digging bruises into his sides, trying desperately to find ticklish spots.

"It was a joke! Come on sweets, you know I'm not ticklish there."

Grinning devilishly, you straddle him backwards, clinging onto his legs like a koala.

"Nope, but you are here!"

Your fingers tickle at his socked feet as he writhes beneath you.

"Fuck, no fair! Stop!"

"Never!" Your relentless onslaught continues.

"I will kick you in the head!"

"Say I'm pretty!"

"Fine! You're pretty, stop, stop!"

You finally relinquish your hold and clamber off him still giggling triumphantly.

"Am I forgiven?"

"Nope. That was really mean Edward." You huff dramatically, folding your arms over your chest.

"Kiss it better?"

You both use that phrase. It started off with kissing your knee when you fell, then you used it to comfort him once when some jocks had been particularly mean to him, then it just melded into your day to day life.

"OK."

His smile is wicked as he pushes you to your back, fingers hooking into your pyjama pants.

"The fuck are you doing?" Gazing down at him, he smiles sinfully as he pulls your pants down in one smooth motion.

"Didn't say where, sweets."

His tongue runs the full length of your pussy and runs around your clit in a smooth circle.

"Fuck, Eddie!" Hands make their way into his unruly curls as he continues his apology, suckling at your clit.

Thick fingers probe your entrance, gliding in to curl in that spot just like you like it.

"Sweetheart, you're the prettiest girl in this trailer."

Not giving in that easily, you pull his hair.

"I'm the only girl in this trailer!"

He laughs and sucks your clit again hard, making your back arch off the floor.

"OK," he practically breathes into your cunt, "the prettiest girl in Hawkins?"

"Better."

"Fine, the prettiest girl in the fucking world."

"OK, oh shit, oh you're forgiven!" Moans replace words as he fucks you hard with his fingers, bringing you closer and closer to release.

"Don't stop, don't stop, I'm gonna come, Eddie!"

He presses the flat of his tongue against your clit hard as you ride his face into a searing wash of ecstasy.

Releasing in a broken scream, you melt into a puddle. Moments later, a very smug Eddie hovers over you.

"You are the prettiest bitch" He says, pressing a soft kiss to your nose.

Too fucked out to argue, you pull him close and hold him. You'll get him back later.

@munson-blurbs @roanniom @eddiesprincess86

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie fanfic #eddie fan fic

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lipglossanon · 1 month ago

Text

October 27th

Kink: Sex Toys

Pairing: Frankenstein!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, sex toys, monster Leon, scientist reader, removable dick (so heads up lmao), dirty talk, teasing, kissing, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread

He points a discolored finger at the screen.

“They really never get these kinds of things right,” he blows out a breath of air that flutters his fringe.

“It’s just a movie, Leon,” you coo at him, laughter in your voice. “Besides, does it really matter?”

“It might,” he huffs, crossing his arms and putting his biceps on display.

Your eyes rove over his patch quilt body. Some may call you a mad scientist, but you like to think you’re just enlightened. Besides, if you had listen to those ingrates at the college you would never have ventured off to work on your own experiments, stumbling across the greatest scientific marvel of the eons.

Leon had been hiding away in some dilapidated shack in a forest far from any civilization. He’s stitched together of various body parts, but overall seems to have most of his original body intact. It’s been a learning experience for both of you—one that’s tipped over into a relationship.

It’s strange, but it works. Not to mention, the fun things you can do with a man whose body essentially functions as sentient body parts. Fidgeting in place, your thighs press together at the memory of last time Leon let you play around with an idea.

You tug on his arm and his attention swings from the tv over to you. Biting your lip, you drag your fingernail down his forearm.

“Can we?”

His eyes light up and he grins, “Here or the bedroom?”

“Here, please,” your eyes drop to his lap.

Wasting no time, his hands reach down to undo his pants, shimmying in place until he can kick them off. He’s half hard but quickly fills out, cock stiff and fat as he strokes himself once.

“You gonna work for it?”

“Uh huh,” you nod your head, eyes glued to his dick while he shifts in place.

With another low grunt, he’s able to remove his cock. The first time it threw you off so much, you stopped everything to study how it worked separate from his body. It’s basically a dildo until it’s reattached to his body once more. He can feel a faint trace of pleasure, which you still haven’t figured out how that works, so you cockwarm him often.

Standing up, you quickly shed your clothes, standing nude in the living room as the tv blares some classic monster movie in the background. Sitting back on the couch, you press your back to the armrest so your body is facing out toward Leon.

He places his cock in your outstretched hand, hissing when you press your lips to the tip. Lathing your tongue around the head, you suck him into your mouth before pulling his dick put with a wet pop. Dragging his cock down between your breasts, you watch him track the path you take. You slap his thick length against your soaked slit before grinding the head on your puffy clit.

“Please,” he groans. “Let me see you stuff your pussy full of my cock.”

Whining in your throat, you do just that. Notching the head of his dick at your drippy hole, you slowly push his cock into your cunt. You both moan as his fat dick spreads you open, filling your pussy. You want to tease him, drag out this heavy tension until he can’t take it anymore, but that’s just not possible.

He feels way too good inside you—and with the way he’s watching, your belly burns hot with arousal, pussy soaking his cock as you pull it back out to thrust it back in deep.

“Oh fuck, Leon,” you whimper, head rolling back and forth while you fuck yourself on his dick. “You feel so good in my pussy.”

“Fuck,” he pants, scooting closer to you on the couch. “Is that fat pussy having to work extra hard so I’ll fit?”

“Uh huh,” you mewl. “It’s so big.”

“Yeah? Need some help?”

You really did want to drag it out but—

“Please,” you sigh, pussy clenching around his cock. “It’s not gonna fit.”

“Aww,” he murmurs. “It’ll fit, you just need me to force it in, don’t ya?”

Nodding rapidly, you whine, “Oh god, yes.”

He bats your hand away and grips the base of his cock. Grinding it against your snug walls, he pulls it out, watching your needy hole clench around nothing. Sitting back, he reattaches his cock and then pulls you over into his lap.

He bullies his cock back into your cunt and you squeal, pussy and clit throbbing at his rough treatment.

“Ride me, show me how much you love this cock in your tight hole.”

“Yes, yes,” you gasp, hands gripping his shoulders as you hump your pussy down onto his dick.

You can’t stop bouncing in his lap, fat cock stretching you open so wide it hurts but in the best way. It makes you even wetter knowing your pussy will be sore and achy tomorrow. Shuddering, you drop down heavily, the drippy tip of his dick kissing your womb and making you squeal.

“Good girl, taking me in so deep,” he grips your neck and brings you in to a messy kiss, tongue lapping against yours.

His calloused thumb presses into your clit and begins to rub in circles. Keening, you claw at his chest, orgasm cresting higher and higher until it finally breaks. You cry out against his lips, pussy clamping down on his cock while your body judders in his hold.

He doesn’t let up on your clit and it sends white hot zaps of pleasure throughout your body. Leon keeps you bouncing on his lap, fucking his cock deep against your cervix until he finally stills with a loud groan. Gasping wetly, your walls flutter and milk his dick, feeling as he floods your hole with hot, thick spurts of cum.

Slumping against him, Leon pets your sides and hips, grunting as your pussy grips and pulses around his half hard cock.

He snorts a laugh and when you shoot him a curious look, he says, “That’s definitely one thing that’s not in those old horror films.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #lipglossanon kinktober 2024 #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #frankenstein!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #frankenstein!leon s kennedy #frankenstein!leon #fem!reader #scientist!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n

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ayyy-pee · 2 months ago

Note

can you do something where reader is lads mc and rafayel is her bf, and after a shift she was hanging out (something like getting a meal idk) with xavier. and rafayel is walking about and gets jealous when he sees them. like maybe something a little angsty/fluffy idk i just need me a pouty, whiny jealous rafayel i love his sass so much

idk if this is like boring or what, ignore if you dont like it tysm ily

HI NONNIE!!!! YOU ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY CAN!!! I LOVE HIS ASS!!! So here you go!!!

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Rafayel x Female Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend's the jealous type. It's no big deal. Until one day, he literally blows things out of proportion...

Warning: Bratty, crybaby Rafayel and that's literallyyyy it LMAO

You sit in a bustling cafe hidden in one of the back streets of Linkon City, waiting at the table for Xavier to bring back your meals. He’d insisted that you take a seat, your exhaustion clear on your face after defeating a particularly difficult wanderer. It took you hours to get the situation under control and it wasn’t until Xavier had shown up to help that you were able to get a handle on things. Xavier insisted on taking you out to dinner to replenish your energy and would hear no arguments about it. Otherwise, he’d just come over since you lived in the same building to cook you dinner, and you had zero interest in putting out a fire in your home.

Once in the building, Xavier makes his way to order your meals, and you take this time to lean back in the booth, the softness of the cushions adding to the warm ambience of the cafe.

You spend the first few minutes catching up on your messages, completing the paperwork that was required for your last mission and checking in with Dr. Zayne. It’s all tedious and boring, until you get the sudden feeling that someone is watching you. You glance around the restaurant, eyes darting in various directions until they land on Xavier. You stare as he points to menu items at the counter, offering him a small smile when he turns to glance at you, only to quickly turn away.

He’s so awkward, you think. But it’s nice to be out with the person who has managed to save your life more than a few times. You’re grateful for the friendship you’ve developed with your mysterious neighbor. There’s a trust there that can only be built when you lay your life on the line with someone, and this connection is one you’ve made outside of work as well. It’s why you’re able to relax, to take a breath and give into the exhaustion weighing heavily on your body, and why you let yourself succumb to the dreams pulling you into the darkness.

Even though you still can’t shake that odd sensation that an extra set of eyes are on you.

“Hey,” a soft voice calls to you. “___, wake up. Food’s here.”

Your eyes flutter open, finding your blonde partner sitting across from you, a soft expression on his face as he watches you groggily try and take in your surroundings. He scoots your food towards you, and you gaze down to find what he’d ordered is exactly what you’d been craving.

“Thank you,” you murmur, a little confused, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “How long was I out for?”

“About 45 minutes,” Xavier states casually, digging into his own meal.

“What?!”

His head tilts to the side, confused at your outburst.

“Xavier! Why did you let me sleep for so long?!” Your eyes dart back down to your food, where the steam curls deliciously off of it. “And how is the food not cold?!”

Xavier just stares at you, shrugging easily as he says, “I just asked them to wait until you were done with your nap.”

He states it like it’s that simple. Like you could just go into a restaurant and say “hey, we’re gonna get some sleep. Hold our food for us until we’re done.”

And you suppose for Xavier, it is that simple. The man is blunt and says what he means, so you’re sure he didn’t have any problem asking that of the staff. That’s so nice, you think. That he’d go out of his way to have them wait for you to recover from a brutal battle so that you would have warm food to eat the moment you woke up.

You’re grateful for the man before you looking out for you in such a way, so you fix him with a soft smile, muttering a thank you before you also dig into your meal.

Conversation with Xavier is light and easy, though you’re the main one doing the talking. That’s normal for the two of you. He’s so different from the man you’re usually with. Quiet and secretive, but sweet. He just lets you talk, contributes here and there, but he mainly enjoys your company quietly. And you enjoy his, as well. The more you’ve gotten to know your mysterious new colleague, the more you recognize him as a dear friend.

“I should be heading home soon,” Xavier states once he finishes his food, though you hear a tinge of reluctance in his voice. “We should…” his lips press into a hard line, like he’s trying to decide if he wants to say these next words. But he does it anyway. “We should do this again soon. Maybe make dinner after a mission a regular thing.”

You nod happily. You would love that! You don’t have many friends in Linkon City, and the more you make, the better. Xavier understands you in ways that not many people can, what with your occupation and the danger that comes with it, and it’s nice to have that in common.

“Okay!” You beam, holding your hand out to him across the table. His blue eyes gaze down with curiosity and you wiggle your fingers teasingly, urging him to take it. “It’s a deal, so shake on it.”

At this, Xavier smirks, reaching a hand across the table to close the gap. He’s hesitant at first, slow. But as his hand gets closer to yours, you almost feel the warmth radiating off of his palm, just centimeters away from your skin. And just when you’re about to wrap your hand around his, a piercing scream ripples through the cafe, shattering the relaxed atmosphere.

“FIRE!!!” Someone cries, and the whole restaurant is in shambles.

It’s a big one, raging angrily in the center of the building. It’s a flame so large, you fear the entire place will burn down if it’s not extinguished immediately. Xavier snatches his hand back quickly, watching the mayhem unfold with you as the workers hurry over with fire extinguishers, spraying at the flame to no avail. You feel the blaze of the inferno all the way in the booth you and Xavier sit in, knowing that this is not something you’ll be able to assist with. You’re built for fighting off space alien creatures, not kitchen disasters…though this isn’t taking place in the actual kitchen anyway.

“Weird,” you say to Xavier. “There is no reason for a fire to have started. The kitchen is nowhere near here, and there are no combustibles from what I can see.” You check your device for any metaflux activity, but see nothing. “No wanderers nearby, either…”

But just as you’re about to get up to look around, the flames vanish just as quickly as they appeared. And like the staff, you’re utterly confused. Xavier doesn’t share the same thought.

“...perhaps you should go and see your boyfriend,” he suggests coolly, like there wasn't absolute chaos happening just ten feet away from you. You suppose it’s because he’s just as out of it as you are after that Wanderer debacle, but still…

“What’s Rafayel have to do with this?” You’re lost, your brows pulling together in thought. Mainly because you never told Xavier about Rafayel. “How do you–”

"Your phone background,” he answers easily. “And if I were in his shoes, and you were out with another man the same way we are...even if it's just as friends," Xavier’s gaze flits over to you, so quickly you almost miss it. You definitely miss the longing behind his blue eyes because you blink for not even a second, and he’s back to staring at his empty plates. “I think a strange and seemingly random fire would also coincidentally start in the same cafe you're in.”

Your tired brain works overtime to try and make sense of his words. But then your phone dings, and your attention is pulled to the sweet message on the screen…

…suddenly, everything's adding up. The frenzied screams and rush of bodies trying to help extinguish the flames that now you’re certain didn’t pop up from nowhere, the way the fire disappeared as soon as some distance was put between the two of you.

You slip your phone into your pocket, clear on who the culprit of this random fire is. “Thanks for dinner, Xavier. I’ll see you later.”

You push hard, the tall doors of the manor where Rafayel resides leading into the large space of his house. The main room doubles as his art studio and it reeks of acrylic paints and wine, as usual. You search the room for the man in question, but see him nowhere in sight. Which is lucky for him, because you may need a couple of minutes to calm down before you let him have it.

“Rafayelllll,” you sing into the quiet air, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “Are you here, babe?”

No answer.

Your footsteps echo through the home, the only sound you hear coming from the ocean waves crashing on the shoreline outside of the windows. You find it odd how quiet it is, because as far as you’re aware, there are no big art projects happening. His schedule is clear today, you even double checked with Thomas because Rafayel has a habit of deleting things from his calendar that he doesn’t want to do…which is everything. So, he should be home right now.

Carefully, you maneuver around the usual mess Rafayel leaves scattered around his house. You’re careful not to crush his paintbrushes, and even in the dim lighting you somehow manage to avoid knocking over any paint cans. Your feet carry you down the corridor to his bedroom where you quietly push the door open. The moonlight illuminates the room, and you can just barely see a large lump buried beneath the blankets on Rafayel’s bed.

He really makes this too easy for you.

With a smirk, you tiptoe over, careful not to make a peep until you’re able to grab hold of the sheets. In one swift motion, you yank them back, yelling “got you!”...only to be met with a pile of pillows.

You roll your eyes, because of course your boyfriend would do something childish like this, laying traps that you would easily fall into. You’d never guess that your job was to be stealthy and smart, always a step ahead with the way you so easily fall for his tricks. Rafayel knew you were coming. He knew that you were onto him and his antics, and he’d been quick to try and buy himself some time. He may come out when he’s ready, send you a mean little message that he’ll apologize for later when he realizes he’s being a little shit.

But you really don’t want to wait that long. You’re tired and have had a long day. You want him to come out already.

As if almost blowing up an entire cafe with you and Xavier in it wasn’t enough, now he’s got you on a manhunt to find him. You’re too tired for this!

Hold on…

Xavier…

You know exactly how to get your boyfriend to come out of hiding.

“Ughhh,” you groan dramatically, your voice echoing through Rafayel’s home. “Guess he’s not here. I’m sure he’s out working so hard on his art.” You force the words out, knowing his lazy ass is somewhere in the shadows. “Guess I’ll just go over to Xavier’s until he calls me ba–”

“Unfortunately,” a gentle voice rings behind you. “You may find your place up in flames as well if you finish that sentence.”

You spin around, coming face to face with the beauty that is your Lemurian lover. He’s all scrunched nose, furrowed brows, pouty pink lips and narrowed eyes as he stares down at you. His arms are folded tightly around his chest.

And you hate that you want to laugh, but he’s just so damn cute when he’s all pouty like this.

“So, you admit it was you?”

“Me what?” He mutters, turning away from you, and you can’t help but giggle at his attitude.

“That you, my little arsonist, started the fire at the cafe I was at earlier.”

Rafayel shakes his head in denial. “Wasn’t me,” he claims. “Maybe you should spend time in less seedy places and you won’t find yourself in such…predicaments.”

“Raf, I was just getting something to eat after a fight. Xavier and I –”

He peers at you from over his shoulder, lips still puckered in a pout before he sneers at you. “Oh! You and Xavierrrr,” he mocks, voice nasally as he does so. “Surprised you even remembered I exist with the way you were gazing into Xavier’s eyes.” He spins back around, glaring out the window into the water.

You shake your head at his dramatics, stifling the laugh threatening to bubble up. “There was no gazing, Raf.”

“Oh,” he spins back around, “There most definitely was gazing. Longggg and dreamilyyyy,” he drags the words out, eyes narrowed when he asks, “How come you don’t look at me like that?!”

He looks about one second away from stomping his foot in a tantrum. And you stand there in amusement and let him spiral, going on and on about how he can’t let you out of his sight for a second without some man trying to get his claws into you.

How he’s certain that the moment you leave his vicinity, you’ve forgotten him, forgotten all that he means to you and all that you mean to him and that one day you’ll wake up and will decide to leave him for someone else. How he just had to set the cafe on fire, he had no choice! You and your friend were just far too cozy looking for his liking.

“I mean–” he throws his hands in the air, a loud sigh rushing past his lips. “Imagine how surprised I was to be browsing the area for a gift for my beautiful girlfriend only to see her on a dinner date with her other boyfriend?!”

You roll your eyes, closing the distance between you and the giant cry baby you call your boyfriend, gently grabbing hold of his face. He promptly stops rambling, his face immediately deepening in shade to a dark crimson. You squeeze his cheeks together, grinning at the way his lips pursed together like a little blowfish.

Wide, bluish-pink orbs stare at you. “W-what are you doing?”

“Getting you to shut up for a second so I can tell you you're absolutely insane for setting a cafe on fire because you saw me with another man,” you giggle, loosening your grip on Rafayel’s face when you feel his face muscles move when he tries to smile.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” he murmurs quietly, eyes looking away from your face. You can hear the sadness in his voice along with fear. You turn his head again, your gazes meeting and you give him a soft smile.

“Raffy…” you whisper, the affectionate nickname you had given him making his heart flutter in his chest. You think his face is even redder, if possible. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your words have Rafayel closing his eyes with a sigh, almost like he doesn’t believe you.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” he confesses, and you tilt your head in confusion, not missing the again. Like it’s happened before. “I mean…I just like spending time with you.” He’s pouting again, so cutely this time as he says, “I just feel so jealous when I see you having fun with someone else.”

You press your lips to his, a quick peck. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise. Unfortunately, I’m stuck with you.”

“Hey!” His hand wraps around your wrist, his other arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you to him. His soft smile is illuminated in the moonlight, casting an eerily beautiful glow along his skin. He hugs you to his chest, the tension in his body melting as he holds you.

You inhale his scent, wrapping your arms around him. “Next time, just come say hi. Maybe even join us.”

At this, Rafayel’s hold tightens around you. “Next time?”

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moonstruckme · 7 months ago

Note

heya!! i was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where r stopped smoking..? i’m 6 months clean from smoking nicotine and i haven’t told anyone (you’re the first!! lmao) just incase i break from a stressful day and so i don’t disappoint!! could you maybe write that into the drabble or whatever you do..? tysm if you do, and if you don’t then no worries!!

i love you mae and make sure to take care of yourself and keep being you!!!!

thanks for requesting gorgeous, i really hope you're doing well!! proud of you <3

cw: smoking, reader deals with addiction

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 936 words

Remus smells like cigarettes. He’s stopped smoking anywhere near you, but you’re sure if you look out the front door you’ll see the telltale smear of ash smashed into the sidewalk from where he’d stamped one out on the way in. The aroma brings longing and self-loathing, the former more potent than the latter, and you find yourself breathing in the fibers of his sweater for a whiff of it.

Remus doesn’t catch onto the true motivation for your proximity. He takes it for cuddling, adjusting his hold on his book so he can read with one hand while the other wraps around your shoulders, encouraging you closer to his side. Underneath the heady smell of lingering smoke he smells like himself, like cinnamon and oranges, and you try to focus on that as your better sense fogs over and your fingers start itching for a cig.

“Aha!” Sirius slaps his last card down on the table.

James blows out a flabbergasted breath, leaning back on his hands on the floor. They’re playing some kids’ card game Remus learned in primary school and unwisely taught them. At first you’d all gotten into it, but after Sirius nearly took your head off for forgetting the rules and playing with two hands (“Sorry, gorgeous, you know I don’t mean anything I say when I’m trying to win…and I could have won, couldn’t I? No, I’m just saying, it’s about the principle—”) you and Remus had bowed out. James and Sirius have retained their obsession for days, each keeping a scoreboard in their own heads that seems to hold them in favor.

“Angel?”

You look up, meeting James’ knowing gaze. “Hm?”

“He asked if you’re getting hungry for dinner,” Remus clues you in, toying with the ends of your hair.

“Oh, sorry. Um…” You think hard. One of the more irritating things about quitting smoking is that now your appetite never seems to fully die down. You’re ready for your next meal all day long, and so you actually have to think about whether it makes sense for you to have it. “I had some carrots just after I got home, so I could eat whenever you want to.”

“Alright…”

You take another deep inhale, telling yourself it’s because Remus smells nice and losing your grasp on self-control all the while.

“Are you tired?” Remus asks, and you don’t know how you didn’t notice it before, that extra bit of roughness that his voice takes on after he’s been smoking. You’re so envious you could die. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m good,” you murmur. Though perhaps it’d be better if you did take a nap or something. You’re beginning to feel twitchy. You take in a breath through your nose like you’ve been practicing, letting it out through your mouth.

“Ah.” Sirius scoots closer to you, laying his cheek on the couch cushion. “You want to have a piece of your gum, sweet thing?”

You look at him guiltily. Remus makes a soft sound of realization.

“You’re picking your nails,” Sirius explains, and you look down to see that you are. “I imagine that means you’re craving one.”

It’s simultaneously sweet and irksome that none of your boyfriends will even say the word cigarette around you anymore. They’re trying to be considerate, you know, but it feels like they think your self-control is so tenuous that just one word could shatter it. You don’t have the heart to tell them.

“Sorry,” you mumble, getting the pack of gum out of your pocket. Just the act of unwrapping a stick makes you feel instantly better. “I guess I was thinking I wouldn’t need it anymore.”

“Don’t be sorry,” James says lightly. “I don’t imagine it’s easy, sweetheart, you shouldn’t feel bad about using something to cope. It’s not like having gum hurts anything.”

You hum, then turn to Remus sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, do you think you might be able to change?” He looks confused. “Your sweater smells like cigarettes,” you explain.

James gasps as though scandalized and Remus swears, grabbing the neckline of his sweater and tugging it off. He tosses it into the hall.

“M’sorry, dove.” He takes your head between his hands, mushing a kiss into your hair. He’s now bare-chested, and you laugh at the dramatics, totally unexpected from him. “I didn’t realize. Is it better now?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

He drops another kiss on your head, remorseful. “Alright, I’ll go grab something else to wear,” he says, starting to stand. Both Sirius and James protest loudly.

“I think what you’re wearing now looks great,” says James.

“Yeah,” Sirius seconds, “stay in that.”

Remus looks down at his shirtless torso, raising an eyebrow at the other boys. You can see the amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Really?” he asks.

“Come on, it’s not like the fucking Pope’s coming over,” Sirius says, looking well below your boyfriend’s eyes with unabashed enthusiasm. “Tell him, gorgeous.”

Remus turns his gaze on you. You curl in on yourself slightly, shrugging your shoulders. “This is the best distraction I’ve had all day,” you say quietly, and James’ laughter booms off the walls.

“Fair enough.” Remus rolls his eyes, grinning as he sits back down on the couch beside you. You get comfy like you were against his side, now smelling only him. He drapes his arm across your back, settling a hand on your hip. “The lows I stoop to for you, hm?”

“If you’re not up to the task,” Sirius says, “just say the word. I’d be happy to take her off your hands.”

“Fuck off,” Remus says, and tugs you closer.

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zhxngii · 1 year ago

Text

— Submitting

⌗ note ❰❰ This includes all the tall(-ish)/bigger-built men, @ that one post where I mentioned something about yk. maybe i'm just writing this to spite the ones that don't like big subby men lmao. Also! Feel free to insert your faves with these scenarios as well <3

⌗ contents ❰❰ big submissive men; pegging, grinding, riding, oral (reader receiving; strap.), thigh fucking(?), strap is being referred to "cock/shaft/length", kinda messy... there's a lot.

◖Oral

They are in awe at the sight of your strap as they sit obediently between your legs on their knees, looking up at you with those eyes pleading for permission to touch you which you eventually give.

He wastes no time in reaching for your cock, excitedly scooting closer as his hand wraps around your length, a hum of satisfaction being heard from him as he takes you inside his mouth, feeling how heavy it was on his tongue. A shiver runs down their spines as they feel you petting and cooing at them as they take you further inside, eyes staying on yours and glistening in the light upon hearing you praise them.

Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Zhongli, Diluc, Thoma, Kaveh, Itto, Baizhu, Pantalone, Gepard, Dan Heng il, Luocha

They're so needy and pathetic looking once they finally get a taste of your cock, so messy as they eagerly bob their heads, taking your length as deep as they possibly can, sometimes gagging around you. Acting as if they simply just couldn't get enough of your cock, even taking the time to press kisses along your shaft, swirling their tongues around the tip just because.

When I say that they're messy? I mean literally, spit seeping out the corners of their mouths, dripping down their chins, they're so shameless. So shameless that they're not afraid to touch themselves while doing so, desperately hammering their cocks until they're a whiny mess under you, moans becoming more high-pitched the closer they are to their climax.. and to the way you push their heads down further.

Childe, Alhaitham, Ayato, Kaeya, Dottore, Welt Yang, Sampo, Blade, Jing Yuan

◖Grinding

A tint of red appeared on their faces as they felt your strap, flush against their cock, a sudden whimper as they felt your hands wrap around both of your lengths, softly and slowly moving in up and down motions. A hand shooting up to their mouths to conceal their sounds but fails as they feel you thrust just slightly, your cock rubbing so nicely against theirs that it's driving them mad.

Immediately giving up on hiding their moans, they just let it all out. Their heads tilted back as they try to match your movements but is instead met with their body being pushed down onto a surface. Without time to react properly, he blushes even more upon seeing you put his legs over your shoulder, hands instantly finding the sheets, eyes shutting tightly as he feels your cock gliding at such a pace between his thighs, giving such needed friction to his aching cock.

Wriothesley, Zhongli, Itto, Diluc, Thoma, Baizhu, Kaveh, Welt Yang, Jing Yuan, Gepard, Luocha

They're fully bare as they sit on your lap, lips latched onto yours needily as they subtly grind themselves against you. Even though they were bigger than you, it didn't necessarily stop them from feeling small in a way right now.

A while slipping past their lips onto yours as they feel your cock against the curve of their ass, your hands firm on their waists to guide their movements. Not to mention that little bit of friction on their hard, leaking cocks as it rubs against your shirt, shamelessly staining it with their arousal. Usually, they'd be embarrassed at making such a mess on your shirt but... it can be excused since you're driving them so crazy right now.

Neuvillette, Alhaitham, Childe, Kaeya, Dottore, Pantalone, Ayato, Dan Heng il, Sampo, Blade

◖Pegging

When I tell you they're riding you with a passion???? Letting out a whimper at the feel of you stretching them out once they slide down on your length, sluggish hips movements as they grind back and forth to feel how deep you are inside them.

Their breathing picks up once they start off a decent pace, light sound of the back of their thighs and ass smacking against the skin of yours. Their cocks rubbing against your shirt in a faster manner, bouncing in time with their pace. Nails digging into your shoulders as you thrust in time with them, a choked mewl in the shell of your ear upon feeling you spreading their ass cheeks apart.

Wriothesley, Childe, Kaeya, Ayato, Alhaitham, Pantalone, Dottore, Sampo, Blade, Dan Heng il

He prefers to be lying on the bed rather than riding you, since it was a bit embarrassing in his eyes for some reason but oh how he loved seeing you on top of him.

Despite mentioning being embarrassed, oh how he wasn't shy in the slightest while spreading his legs wide for you, making sure that you could see how he's properly prepared himself for you, your cock.

He's already panting and shivering so cutely under you once you pushed inside him, his back arching off the bed, wanting more of your touch as your lips found his chest, teasing his sensitive peaks with your tongue and teeth. His hands grasp the sheets underneath as your hips repeatedly smack against him, a string of 'thank you's and pleadings for you not to stop coming from his lips.

Neuvillette, Zhongli, Itto, Diluc, Thoma, Kaveh, Baizhu, Welt Yang, Gepard, Luocha, Jing Yuan

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lovelyhan · 2 years ago

Text

— underlying pretense ⟢

pairing: wonwoo x reader

summary: being two of the most popular streamers across the board, your subscribers often speculate if your constant bickering with wonwoo has some underlying pretense. little did they know, the two of you have everything on display on a single, unsuspecting twitter account.

word count: 10.3k words

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers but it's the thought that counts, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, smut

warnings: wonwoo n reader run a shared porn account bc they're filthy like that, alcohol consumption, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: thank you sm for giving the teaser some love! this was just supposed to be pwp filth but...it grew itself a plot :| it also has some valorant jargon here and there but i'll come clean and say i've never played a second of that game my entire life LMAO

this is part of the game over series!

smut tags: sex tapes, unprotected sex, degradation, daddy kink, hard dom wonwoo, choking, overstimulation, aftercare

additional notes for the chat names!

texts: 🐈‍⬛ (ww), 🐈 (reader) discord: W0nwoo (ww), Koyahngi (reader) twitch: everyone_woo (ww), Koyahngi (reader)

taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @seoksoop - @hanieb - @dreamhannies - @renjunphile - @thvhannie - @sysymei

Wonwoo doesn’t make it a habit to watch your streams for two reasons.

The first is because you’re one of his tightest competitors in the streamer market. Giving you even a single view means that he’s contributing to your rise in popularity, which is very much detrimental to both Wonwoo’s pride and his career.

Not that someone who only plays boring, open-world games can easily dethrone one of the most renowned competitive players on the platform, but he learned the hard way to never underestimate the charms of a cute girl who knows her way around both technology and the wallets of her subscribers.

The second reason is…somewhat related to the first.

They’re all hanging out in Seungcheol’s apartment when Vernon opens up a Twitch stream to watch. Wonwoo is in the middle of a petty but intense Fruit Ninja competition with Mingyu on their phones, so he doesn’t get to see which streamer he’s watching. Vernon is the type that likes to give newbies a chance, though, so at that moment, Wonwoo couldn’t really care less.

But when he hears a familiar, high-pitched voice dish out her opening tagline for every stream, even Mingyu notices the way Wonwoo's face scrunches up with distaste.

“Can’t believe you pulled a Koyahngi and Chill while Wonwoo’s in the same room,” Seungcheol laughs when he returns with some beer. “We all know he’s allergic to the sound of her voice.”

“Hey, I think it’s cute,” Vernon says. “Her outfit is, too. Look.”

Wonwoo, still stewing in his annoyance, doesn't move an inch, while Mingyu scoots closer—glancing over Vernon’s shoulder before letting out a wolf whistle.

“I really don’t see the benefit to playing Stardew Valley in maid-cat girl fusion cosplay, but at least she’s still in theme—oh, shit.”

Seungcheol looks at him once he settles himself on the sofa as well. “What’s wrong?”

“My phone died while I was in the middle of a game,” Mingyu whines. “Wonwoo-hyung, lemme borrow yours. We still haven’t decided who’s buying takeout tonight.”

While Wonwoo would’ve normally responded by scoffing at Mingyu to just borrow a charger from Seungcheol, he completely ignores him—stern eyes glued to his phone as he types away at rapid speed. The moment he hits send, Wonwoo hears a soft chime ring over Koyahngi’s lo-fi background music.

You pause for a moment from whatever introductory segment you have planned and tell your viewers you’re just going to answer a text. Wonwoo’s friends are none the wiser when he receives a reply the moment you put your phone back down and interact with the chat.

🐈‍⬛: What did I say about wearing that outfit?

🐈: hmm, can’t remember :P

Fucking brat.

“Hyung?” Mingyu calls out after emerging from Seungcheol’s room—presumably to hunt for a charger—when he spots Wonwoo already halfway to the door. “Where are you going?”

“Friend’s having set-up problems. He texted me asking if I could come over and take a look,” he reasons calmly as he slips his shoes back on. “I’ll head back here once I’m done.”

Seungcheol pouts at him. “You better! Mingyu over here told us you’ve been busy with some girl, that’s why you couldn't hang out with the boys anymore.”

Vernon glances behind him to shoot Wonwoo an incredulous stare. “Wonwoo-hyung? With a girl? You’re not just making stuff up, right?”

Mingyu immediately springs into action, blabbering something about how Wonwoo isn’t the heartless prude people thought he was, but Wonwoo really doesn’t give two shits about how his friends perceived his sex life. In fact, he was more interested in what’s playing on the screen of Vernon’s iPad—the view now unobstructed because the youngest has deigned to move away.

Again, the second reason why Wonwoo doesn’t watch your streams is related to the first.

You’re literally his tightest competitor, but when he sees you all dolled up in your stupid fucking catgirl outfits, he’s suddenly no different from the degenerates vying for your attention in the chat.

And there is nothing else that Wonwoo hates more than being thrown off his game like that.

Funnily enough, he’s reminded of the very thing that started this constant back-and-forth he’s been toeing around with you for a better part of the year when he slips into the driver’s seat of his car. Just before he can drop his phone into one of the cup holders on the middle console, a Twitter notification lights up on screen.

Wonwoo would’ve thought it was from the account dedicated to interacting with his viewers outside of streams. He’s got a decent number of followers there after all. Except the notifications for his official Twitter account have long been muted because of the massive online traction his tweets gain everyday.

No, this one’s from another account entirely.

He feels no shame, opening up the most recent video you put up. What he does feel is a sick sort of pride at the sheer amount of engagement that the video received overnight—those faceless Twitter accounts in the replies looking for other desperate fucks to recreate it with.

This is one of Wonwoo’s favorites. Part of the select few that he actually deigned to keep hidden in the gallery of his phone for…future use. He can barely contain his own heady arousal as he watches the same clip he took with his own camera the previous night.

Those desperate little noises you made. The way your body writhed while getting a good dicking down. And how you were so fucking eager to slide Wonwoo’s cock back inside your cunt after having him cum all over your tits.

Seeing you wearing the same goddamn fishnet bodysuit beneath your stupid maid costume on the stream not only made him pop a hard-on in the middle of boys’ night, but also called for drastic interventions, so to speak.

🐈‍⬛: Finish up that stream asap. I’ll be there in 20.

🐈: fuck you, i just started 5 minutes ago

🐈‍⬛: You know I don’t like it when you talk back, right?

🐈: fine

🐈‍⬛: What?

🐈: …yes, daddy

🐈‍⬛: That’s what I thought.

It all began during a relatively harmless Discord call between their circle friends.

Hanging out with other streamers isn’t such a foreign concept to Wonwoo. If you live in the same apartment as renowned social butterfly Kim Mingyu, you’re bound to get roped into his goings-on anyway, so Wonwoo relents every time—telling himself there’s no harm in meeting a bunch of new people, as long as they aren’t shitty teammates in-game.

Tonight, though, it’s Vernon who brings a new face to their server, and their Discord tag is something that Wonwoo recognizes almost immediately.

“Hey,” says one Koyahngi#0000, sounding a lot different than Wonwoo remembers. “It’s nice to meet you guys. Vernon said I could come hang out.”

The others in the voice call greet you with varying degrees of enthusiasm—from Jihoon’s mirrored but relaxed ‘hey’, to Soonyoung’s immediate invitation to team up with him on a new FPS game they’re trying out for the night.

As if having the same train of thought as Wonwoo, someone immediately pings him from the private server he shares with Mingyu, Seungcheol, and Vernon—one that Mingyu pathetically named as GAM3 BO1s. Wonwoo is quick to click on it more to eliminate the annoying red ping notification than anything else.

Min6yu: hey isn’t she the new streamer who always gets on wonu-hyung’s nerves

Min6yu: bc her voice is always so…squeaky

Min6yu: @W0nwoo

5coups: hasn’t it occurred to u that maybe that’s just part of the online persona

5coups: i think the reason why wonwoo is annoyed is bc she’s stealing his brand

5coups: you know, as the government-assigned twitch cat

V3rnon: you guys aren’t seriously talking about the person i invited in a server i’m also a part of, right…

5coups: gotta live with it, vern. you know gyu is the town gossip

W0nwoo: can we talk about this later?

W0nwoo: i can’t be the only one hearing soonyoung wailing in the call because we’re taking too long to form teams

The first few rounds progress exactly as Wonwoo envisioned them to be—with you being a constant dead weight to Soonyoung’s team, as Wonwoo’s comes out victorious each time. But it seems that the only person remotely miffed by your presence is Wonwoo, as everyone else in the call would resort to saying things like, that’s alright, you’ll get better with practice or come hang out with us more often so you can get used to it!

Wonwoo isn’t a fan of the latter, but if the tides of favor are pitted against him, twelve to one, he can’t just overrule the majority like that.

Of course, he doesn’t have a personal vendetta against newbies. That’s where everyone starts. Back in high school, Wonwoo used to be so bad at aiming his shots in FPS that Mingyu wouldn’t talk to him for an entire day because Wonwoo inadvertently embarrassed him in front of some girl he was trying to get with at the time.

But there’s just…something about you that ticks him off.

You aren’t even using that pick-me-girl voice you typically do on your streams whenever you’re in a voice call with them, but it’s like you’re playing badly on purpose just so his friends could coo and coddle you. Wonwoo seems to be the only one who can see straight through the farce, and he doesn’t know how to fucking deal with it.

Or maybe he shouldn’t have to deal with it. He can just suck it up whenever one of his friends invites you to play games or fuck around in a Discord call. It’s not like anyone’s holding Wonwoo at gunpoint to interact with you.

Except one day, Jeonghan thought it would be a wonderful idea to have a quote-unquote friendly Valorant competition on-stream.

Wonwoo isn’t as opposed to it at first. These little contests have always been a constant since they all started gaming years and years ago. Chan, Minghao, and Jun left the call a bit early for some prior commitments, which means the opposing team would be Jeonghan, Joshua, Woozi, Seokmin, and Seungkwan. Should be easy enough.

But just when Wonwoo thought he’d be playing with his usual Valorant team consisting of Seungcheol, Mingyu, Vernon, and Soonyoung, he’s presented with a bit of a surprise.

“What?” Wonwoo blurts out of instinct once the news that you’re going to be replacing Soonyoung for today’s stream reaches his ears. “What’s wrong with Soonyoung?”

Jeonghan tuts at him in the call. “Now, Wonwoo-ah. Weren’t you the one who suggested switching things up every now and again? You’re the only one who seems miffed at the idea of getting to play alongside our new friend over here.”

“Yeah, and there’s a new banner coming out tonight in this gacha game I’m playing,” Soonyoung quips. “I’ve been sponsored with a fuck ton of cash to use on summons, so I gotta do the rolls live. Actually, I’m gonna head out now. Good luck!”

The moment Soonyoung leaves the call, you’re all-too quick to jump into the spotlight.

“Don’t worry, Wonwoo, I’ll try not to drag you down too much,” you tell him, and Wonwoo startles at the sound of your voice speaking to him directly. “You might have to carry me a little, though~”

He doesn’t like the idea of letting you have the last word, but Wonwoo would rather not antagonize you right before a joint stream with his buddies. Even if you seem to thrive off pushing his buttons whether knowingly or unknowingly, he has enough tact to keep things civil, especially in the middle of a voice call.

At least, that’s the plan until all of you are several rounds into the first game.

“Do you have some sort of grudge against me?” Wonwoo mutters into his mic as his agent dies for the nth time on stream, while you—having played Sage since the beginning—stand over him without doing a single thing. “You haven’t tried to resurrect me even once.”

The jeering laughter of his other friends on the call inadvertently pisses him off, but the sound of you simpering is what makes his blood pressure rise into dangerous levels. “Oh? Sorry, I kind of forgot how Sage’s abilities work. My bad!”

“This is our twentieth round,” he reminds you, eye twitching with annoyance. “And you literally just resurrected Cheol, like, a minute ago.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to waste her ult on scrubs who can’t dodge headshots,” Mingyu snorts and Wonwoo has to keep himself from getting up from his chair just to give his best friend in the other room a knuckle sandwich. “I dunno if Wonwoo-hyung’s just terrible today or if Seungkwan actually got better at using sniper guns, but this is the most fun we’ve had in a while.”

“Speak for yourself, asshole,” Wonwoo grunts.

He can hear Seungkwan laugh as well. “It’s a compliment, but that somehow still feels like an insult—whoa! Shua-hyung, Vernon’s planting a spike in—”

Before Seungkwan can even finish the sentence, his agent is swiftly annihilated by yours from behind—making quick work of Joshua, who was hiding behind a cargo holder while you’re at it, too. Wonwoo can hear Jihoon belting out a string of very colorful language that Jeonghan might have to edit out once he cross-posts the stream on YouTube. But with all agents from their team having been eliminated, the twentieth round inevitably goes to Wonwoo’s team.

Normally, Wonwoo would’ve been glad to celebrate his team’s victory, even if he was hard-carried for an entire round because of some careless choices early on. But the fact that his best friends are all-too enthusiastic with that last play you made did his peace of mind no favors.

“See, we told you you’d get better with practice,” Mingyu says, and Wonwoo would honestly like to digress.

You’ve never been bad at FPS. That’s just what you wanted everyone to think, so the moment you finally made groundbreaking plays, all attention would magnetize solely on you. Not that he’s been much of a glutton for the spotlight, though. Wonwoo simply despises people with hidden agendas, no matter how harmless, and the fact that he’s the only one who realizes this makes it even worse.

It doesn’t help that he has a hunch that whatever blatant dislike he has for you, is very much reciprocated on your end.

Your friends assumed the constant bickering you had with Wonwoo during these streams is nothing but good-natured banter at the end of the day.

However, Wonwoo knows much, much better that this is more than just to boost the viewer engagement because of how entertaining it is to watch the two of you argue about the smallest things. (Typical ‘everyone_woo and Koyahngi catfight’, as Soonyoung horrifically dubbed it.)

There has to be something he can do to make you see yourself out of their circle as soon as possible. Pretending you don’t exist just won’t work anymore because: 1.) Wonwoo is very, very easy to get a rise out of and; 2.) You always seem to go out of your way just to fuck with him every chance you get.

He needs to get rid of you, stat.

Don’t misunderstand, though. Jeon Wonwoo isn’t some sort of vengeful person who makes it his life’s goal to break you off from their circle entirely. It’s not like he’s actively looking for some dirt on you so he could finally make his idiot friends see the light about your real personality. He kind of just hopes that karma would do its thing without requiring Wonwoo to lift a single finger.

Eventually, that does sort of happen. Just not in the way he ever would’ve expected.

Wonwoo isn’t particularly fond of using Twitter. Aside from the fact that he doesn’t have much to say for his followers to see, the things that appear on his timeline can be a bit…questionable.

From threads justifying that everyone_woo and min6yu_k have been dating since middle school, here’s why to the blatant Twitter porn that his other, more degenerate streamer friends keep bringing onto his feed with their likes—Wonwoo is yet to have a pleasant experience with the stupid app. He mostly just uses it to post stream schedules ahead of time, and thank the occasional follower when they make nice cat-themed merch for Wonwoo to see.

Wonwoo doesn’t know what compelled him to scroll through the dumpster fire that is his Twitter timeline on this specific day, at this specific hour. When he has nothing better to do, he usually just channels the boredom into working out.

But today is more of a lazy day, and Wonwoo wants nothing more than to lounge on his gaming chair while waiting for something interesting to pop up. Why he’s expecting such a thing on Twitter is beyond him, but he’s already here anyways, right?

About five minutes through his infinite scrolling, it finally pops up.

It’s another porn video liked by this guy he collaborated with for a Twitch event once—a rather…promiscuous person named Johnny. Now that he thinks about it, Johnny seems to be the main source of all the NSFW content popping up in Wonwoo’s feed, and he considers soft blocking him for a due timeline cleanse altogether.

But when Wonwoo finally reads the caption attached to the video…

🔞 • @_asd624915 pov: you’re fucking k0y4hng1 from behind 🤤

He scoffs the moment he finishes reading it, attempting to just block both the person who posted the video and Johnny at the same time. But what catches Wonwoo’s eye is the red neon setting of the scandalous clip.

Wonwoo doesn’t have to watch your streams to be familiar with the trademark neon red lights you had set up inside your gaming room. The streamer portrait at the bottom corner of your screen always contrasted with the games you played, and it was sort of an eyesore sometimes.

As the degen who tweeted it described, the girl in the video is being railed from behind while her partner films the entire thing with his phone. Wonwoo couldn’t make out any other details because of the stark, neon red lighting, as well as the shitty 480p quality, so he figures that person just wants to project his sick fantasies about you on some amateur sex tape.

Thinking about why Johnny would even like this sort of thing gives Wonwoo a headache, so he just quits the application altogether—deciding to finally drag his ass back to the gym so he can just let it pass.

It’s none of his business anyway.

Except it happens again a few days later.

The gaming community isn’t completely full of people with questionable tastes. There are still streamers like Saerom that Wonwoo would actually consider a friend outside of his usual circle. She used to be more popular back when battle royale games were still a hit, but Saerom has since lied low in the gaming scene, and only goes live on Twitch at least once every three months.

So Wonwoo finds it a bit surprising to see her in the chat for tonight’s stream.

His newer viewers don’t seem to know her, but some of the veterans on his channel all greet Saerom happily—spamming the chat with the cutest emojis available on stream. He thanks them for their discretion, as he can’t quite scroll back to read her first message. The chat is moving a little too fast, and things are getting a little too heated in the Valorant Icebox map.

Wonwoo isn’t quite used to queueing solo anymore, so after carrying the rest of his team for thirteen rounds straight, he decides to cut the stream earlier than he usually would. He says goodbye to the viewers, not forgetting to give Saerom a quick special mention before ending the live.

However, just when he’s about to shut off his computer, he gets a Whisper notification.

SAEROM: hey, you’re friends with koyahngi, right?

everyone_woo: Uh. Sort of. Why?

SAEROM: oh um

SAEROM: i’m sorry if this seems a bit odd…but i’m just concerned about her.

Saerom’s response makes him arch an eyebrow.

Did something happen to you? And is it so bad that a semi-retired Twitch streamer is reaching out to him just to check in on you?

everyone_woo: Is something the matter?

everyone_woo: I haven’t really hung out with them in a while, so I wouldn’t know

SAEROM: oh, i see

SAEROM: it’s just that…there are some weirdos on reddit saying they discovered her sex tapes

SAEROM: i had something similar happen to me in the past even if it's complete bs, so i’m just looking out for her, yknow?

SAEROM: their reasoning is so stupid too! just because the girl in the video has red mood lights, doesn’t mean it’s koyahngi, right?

Huh. She must be talking about the same video that Johnny unknowingly put on Wonwoo’s timeline a few days ago. He hasn’t really been paying attention to social media platforms that aren’t Twitch and YouTube, so he wasn’t aware that those clips managed to gain some traction in the degen community after all.

everyone_woo: You know how fans and viewers can be sometimes.

everyone_woo: That’s the reason you laid back for a while, right?

SAEROM: well, yeah but just bc it’s a normal thing, doesn’t mean i have to just sit back and watch it happen again to other people

SAEROM: sigh sorry i’m rambling. all of this just doesn’t sit right w me, and you’re the only friend of hers that i’m still in touch with

SAEROM: you must think it’s weird for me to be fussing abt someone i’ve never spoken to before lol

Wonwoo feels quite the opposite, actually. It’s kind of relieving to know that there are still people like Saerom in this world—caring enough to be frustrated on your behalf even if the two of you have never interacted.

everyone_woo: Would it make you feel better if I talked to her about it?

SAEROM: omg? you’d really do that?!

SAEROM: seoyeon was completely wrong abt you, you're not a cold-hearted guy at all!

everyone_woo: …So is that a yes or?

SAEROM: ok first of all, i’m not sure if that’s necessary ‘cause idek if she knows me

SAEROM: you don’t have to Talk to her about it, but at least look after her for me?

everyone_woo: Ok. I’ll try.

SAEROM: thank you, you’re the best!

It’s only when he’s halfway through his evening shower that what Wonwoo just offered to do for Saerom finally dawns on him. The moment the realization hits, Wonwoo closes his eyes and let the steady spray from the showerhead prickle his face—breathing deeply through his mouth before...

“Fuck!”

Mingyu asks what the commotion was about when Wonwoo joins him at their two-seater dinner table. He probably heard him not-so gracefully lose it inside the bathroom, but Wonwoo is too pissed at himself to entertain Mingyu’s question, and thankfully, his roommate is sensible enough not to pry.

“Gyu, can I ask something?”

Wonwoo asks this in the middle of cleaning up after dinner. He’s in charge of doing the dishes, since Mingyu was charitable enough to cook dinner for both of them tonight. Mingyu glances at him from the couch, pausing the RPG he fed into the PS5. “Yeah?”

“If you have something important to tell a girl, where would you do it?”

Honestly, Wonwoo thought it would be alright to check up on you through a quick message on Discord. But the nature of your supposed…problem is a bit too sensitive to bring up in a casual conversation. He figures that talking to you in person would be more appropriate. Never mind the fact that every other instance Wonwoo has met you in real life consisted of him completely avoiding you.

The sound of the water running is the only thing that can be heard throughout their apartment as Mingyu processes Wonwoo’s question with an unreadable look. It’s the first time he’s seen his roommate look so serious about something, so Wonwoo decides to give him some time to answer while he scrubs off some particularly tough fond sticking to the frying pan.

In reality, Mingyu actually had a last-minute meltdown in his head the moment Wonwoo asked the question. His roommate and best friend for more than ten years never expressed feelings or interest in other people. So the fact that Wonwoo is coming up to him now, asking about where to confess his feelings is kind of a big deal.

(Okay, that’s definitely not what Wonwoo asked, but it might as well be, right?)

So to speak, Mingyu is trying to handle the situation as delicately as possible. He just knows the moment he lets even the tiniest laugh slip, Wonwoo would just scowl at him and drop the matter entirely. Which Mingyu does not want to happen, because surprise, surprise. He’s actually rooting for his normally stoic roommate!

“Hmm, I think the new samgyeopsal joint downtown serves some mad bulgogi,” Mingyu suggests because barbecue is always a safe choice. Unless the girl Wonwoo’s trying to get with is a vegetarian, but that’s out of the scope of Mingyu’s concern right now.

Wonwoo scrunches his brows together. “Samgyeopsal? Do I really have to eat with her?”

His roommate looks at him like that’s a pivotal piece of information that everyone is aware of. Everyone but Wonwoo, it seems.

“Duh! It’s to set the mood and stuff,” Mingyu says, and Wonwoo is starting to wonder if they’re talking about the same thing. “Anyway, it’s better to invite her out for dinner. Nothing beats grilling meat and sharing a beer after a long day, am I right?”

Mingyu isn’t exactly wrong about that.

Every time they all went out for samgyeopsal and a few drinks, the atmosphere has always been oddly comfortable. He might not like you as a person all that much, but Wonwoo would want you to be comfortable before he asks about…the thing.

“Fine,” Wonwoo relents just as he’s finished putting the last plate on the drying rack. “Thanks for the input.”

When Wonwoo slowly pads back to his room, he wonders again if he should really exert this much effort for someone he doesn’t even get along with. Sure, he told Saerom that he’d check up on you, but…she insisted that he didn’t necessarily have to talk to you, right?

All of a sudden, Mingyu starts clapping all the way in the living room—effectively startling Wonwoo from his quiet contemplation.

“You can do it, hyung,” he says with an earnest smile. “I believe in you!”

Wonwoo simply shoots him a bizarre stare before slamming the door behind him, muttering about how strange Kim Mingyu could be sometimes.

W0nwoo: Hey. Are you free tomorrow evening?

Koyahngi: …did you send that to the wrong person or

W0nwoo: No?

Koyahngi: who are you and what did you to do wonwoo

Koyahngi: the Real wonwoo would rather throw an entire match than ask me if i’m free tomorrow evening

Koyahngi: you better start fessing up or i’ll tell mingyu

W0nwoo: Can you stop being weird about it? I just need to tell you something important.

Koyahngi: oh? professing your undying love for me already?

W0nwoo: Just answer the question.

Koyahngi: oooh you like ordering people around huh? but yeah i should be free after my stream.

Koyahngi: where are we going, lover boy?

W0nwoo: New samgyeopsal place downtown. Gyu said you already went with them once.

Koyahngi: okay, sounds like a date to me.

W0nwoo: Whatever. Just don’t be late.

Of course, you make it a point to arrive twenty minutes late.

Wonwoo is already in the middle of grilling the restaurant’s famed bulgogi when you slide yourself into the seat adjacent to his, grinning so sweetly at him, Wonwoo almost rolls his eyes.

You aren’t dressed the way you usually are in streams and conventions, having settled with a worn out sweatshirt and a pair of leggings. It’s a far cry from all those complex catgirl outfits that Wonwoo has no idea how you have the patience to put together every stream. The switch up throws him off a bit, but he doesn’t comment on it—content with grilling his meat in silence as you flag down a waiter to get your order in.

“So,” you start, lacing your fingers together, “what does the elusive everyone_woo want from little old me?”

He forgot that if you’re annoying in their damn voice calls, you’re ten times worse when you’re actually in front of him. Wonwoo breathes in the fumes from the grill, willing the succulent aroma of grilling meat to calm him down before he responds.

“You should eat first,” he insists, popping a piece of beef into his mouth. “You might lose your appetite if we talk about it right away.”

You snort. “You make it sound like you know a deep dark secret that can potentially ruin my life.”

…In a way, he does, yeah.

Wonwoo assumed that eating outside without the company of your mutual friends would make the entire ordeal awkward as hell. He’s used to bearing the brunt of uncomfortable silences, but it’s just like you’re built to never feel cumbersome in your life—easily carrying the conversation with someone you supposedly hate, and hates you right back.

You’re not someone who just talks and talks without discretion either. You know perfectly well when to fill the silence and when to let that silence set. Given that majority of his interactions with you involved his twelve other friends, that’s not something Wonwoo would’ve noticed about you right away.

Fine. Maybe you aren’t as bad as he thought.

“Oh, right. Do you remember Saerom? The famous battle royale player from a while back?” you suddenly ask, and Wonwoo nearly chokes on his beer. “She popped into my stream earlier. It was fucking crazy! I’ve looked up to her since I was still in college, and then I see her leaving little hearts in the chat.”

As Wonwoo attempts to compose himself, he feels slightly reassured by the thought of Saerom easing herself into your orbit. The fact that you consider her as some sort of idol might just be a bonus, too. He wonders if he still needs to carry out what he’s supposed to do tonight, but then again, he’s already here.

And he’d be lying if he isn’t the tiniest bit concerned about your PR once that Reddit fiasco starts spreading around.

That evening, he learns that you’re somewhat of a lightweight. Just two beers in, and your face is already red, and you’re laughing way too much in between sentences. Wonwoo has a sinking suspicion that he won’t be able to get his main agenda over with tonight.

He takes it upon himself to help you into the passenger seat of his car, trying to keep your grappling hands off him as you whine about how this is the only opportunity that you’ll get to be in close proximity to Wonwoo before you go back to hating each other again in the morning. Wonwoo can only sigh in complete defeat—wondering why he ever thought doing Saerom this tedious favor was worth it in the first place.

Thankfully, you’re coherent enough to tell him your address, and much to Wonwoo’s chagrin, you live on the other side of the district. It makes him ponder about why you accepted his invitation if the restaurant was completely out of the way, but then again you’ve always been a little eccentric.

“We’re here,” he says, nudging your knee once he pulls up in front of your apartment complex. “Can you climb up the stairs or am I going to have to be your human crutch again?”

Blinking out the sleepiness swimming in your eyes, you manage to beam at him with a smile that makes your eyes crinkle.

“Your duty is not over~”

You did not just fucking quote Sage in your drunken stupor.

There are only two things that pisses off Wonwoo these days. The first is Mingyu’s penchant for leaving his dirty clothes in the bathroom after a shower. The second is every single thing about you, which is un-fucking-fortunate for him because he’s forced to play Good Samaritan while you repeatedly wail, “Even death cannot stop me,” and every single one of your favorite agent’s in-game voice lines for no one but him to hear.

Wonwoo distantly wonders, if those weirdos on Twitter and Reddit saw you now, would they still think about you the same way?

When he’s finally in front of your door, you fumble a bit for your keys—doing a pathetic little fist pump once the lock turns on the first try. Wonwoo sighs.

“Y’know…” You peel yourself away from his grasp before leaning against the doorframe, staring at him in the fluorescent light of the hallway. “Saerom-unnie already mentioned the rumors going around about me after my stream.”

At that moment, Wonwoo feels like an anvil has been dropped into his stomach. He narrows his eyes, wondering if this is some sort of conversational bear trap that he’s in danger of falling for. But the look in your eyes is a little too glazed over to be anything but honest.

“What did she say?” he asks instead.

You hum, chuckling to yourself as you fold your arms in front of your chest. “That you went out of your way to check on me on her behalf. So sweet of you, Wonwoo. Here I thought you were just some asshole who’s never dated a girl in his life. That definitely explains why you’re always so mean to me.”

Wonwoo’s gaze turns stony in a split second—the familiar dregs of irritation prickling the back of his neck. “I’m assuming you’re at least sober enough to walk back inside your place without my help? If that’s the case, I’ll be going—”

“They’re all true, you know.”

Your voice came out so softly, Wonwoo would have missed it if he wasn’t as observant as he is. He scrutinizes you for a moment, deciding whether or not you’re messing with him again, but the way you hold his gaze so confidently tells him it’s the latter.

“Of course, I didn’t tell that to Saerom-unnie,” you sigh, carding your fingers through your hair. “But yep. The girl in the video that a bunch of creeps are saying resembles me? That’s actually me.”

The clip in question replays in the forefront of Wonwoo’s mind like he didn’t spend days forgetting about it altogether. He shakes his head when he catches himself thinking about it a little too long.

“Okay.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “Why are you telling me then?”

You shrug. “Beats me.”

“You’re being very strange tonight, you know?”

“Yeah. I know,” you chuckle, leaning your head back while exposing your neck in a way that’s a bit too sensual to be normal. “Maybe it’s because I know the truth’s safe in your hands. Kinda weird if you think about it, though—trusting the guy who hates your guts with a dirty little secret that could end your entire career.”

If the context was any more different, Wonwoo would’ve agreed. This is what he’s been waiting for, right? To get enough dirt on you so he can convince his friends to just kick you out of your little circle altogether.

But as insufferable as you might be, Wonwoo isn’t such a terrible person that he’ll throw you to the wolves without an ounce of remorse. He’s seen what scandals like this have done to the careers of old streamer friends he no longer has contact with. Even if you’re purposely living your life on the literal edge, he would never consider deliberately ruining it.

He tells himself that the only reason he feels that way is because he refuses to get his hands dirty from…whatever you’ve got going on for yourself. Not because of outright concern for you. Definitely not.

“If you don’t have anything else to say to me,” Wonwoo starts, trying not to think about the flush on your cheeks while you’re slumped against the doorframe, “I’m heading back home.”

He turns around with full intention of leaving without hearing your answer. However, you completely anticipated his next move, immediately snapping into motion to grab Wonwoo’s wrist before he could even take a single step away. He grunts with surprise when you tug him closer—enough that your chests are flush against each other.

“I just remembered the other reason why I decided to tell you,” you giggle, running a finger along the rim of his glasses. “My old dom quit on me, so I need to bring in someone new to make more content with.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen by the second as the implications of your words start to connect in his head. “What?”

You roll your eyes. “No need to act so prissy with me, Wonwoo. I make sex tapes on the side for the entire world to see. As of the moment, there’s no one to have sex with. You’re a semi-attractive guy that’s pressed up against me right now, and I’m pretty sure fucking around with you wouldn’t be too—”

“Stop. Holy shit. Stop talking,” Wonwoo rasps. He physically has to push you away so he can hear the sound of himself talking over the thundering of his heart.

You pout at him. “Don’t tell me you haven’t once thought about fucking me. I’m pretty sure your other friends have entertained the idea at least once.”

“Can you shut up for one fucking second?”

That seems to do the trick. In fact, Wonwoo doesn’t miss the dazed yet pleased look in your eyes the moment he says the words with a bit more authority that he meant to channel into his voice.

Oh, you are so fucking sick.

“Look,” he sighs in between, dragging a palm over his face out of perplexion. “This probably isn’t a conversation we should be having in the hallway of your apartment complex. If your neighbors overhear, what then?”

“Hmph. You think I’ll let myself live in a place with paper thin walls? The soundproofing here is great, mind you. The couple that lives a few units over might be having the wildest sex imaginable and we’re none the wiser!”

“That’s not the fucking point,” Wonwoo growls. “You’ve obviously had too many to drink tonight, and you’re spilling all your life’s secrets willy-nilly. Don’t proposition me like that again when you’re not sober enough to deal with the consequences after.”

You simper, hands gliding to the lapels of his jacket as you tug him back. He has to physically bite the inside of his cheek when those fingers glide across the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt, grazing across every ridge of his muscled chest.

“Oh? Those consequences you speak of sound a bit too tempting to ignore.”

Wonwoo looks at the pristine ceiling of the fourth floor hallway, as if praying for some sort of deliverance.

“Go home and get some sleep. Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says, testing the waters of…whatever the fuck this is, and Wonwoo finds relief in the fact that you actually do as he says, stepping away from him just like he ordered.

“Not even a good night kiss?” you ask—the teasing lilt in your voice yet to fade.

Mustering all the self-restraint left in his body, he turns on his heel and walks away without another word.

Wonwoo doesn’t hear from you for a few days after that.

He convinced himself that the conversation he had with you just outside your apartment was nothing but a fever dream. Though he only had one glass of beer, as he’s supposed to drive home, he can’t really underestimate the effects of alcohol.

But just when he thought his life had finally resumed his preferred cadence of normalcy, another unexpected visitor hops onto his latest stream—sending the chat into a complete frenzy.

Unlike the mixed reactions that Saerom’s arrival last week incurred, seeing the renowned Twitch streamer Koyahngi leaving cat emojis in Wonwoo’s stream chat is enough to drive his entire viewerbase up a wall.

Thankfully, he isn’t playing a game that requires 200% of his utmost concentration—having given the open-world gacha game that Soonyoung keeps begging them to play a chance—so Wonwoo gets to peer over at the messages flooding across one side of his screen. One in particular catches his attention: why are a bunch of hot girls dropping by wonwoo’s stream these days?

Wonwoo ultimately decides to brush them all off for now.

However, unlike Saerom who just observed his stream quietly after making her presence known, you constantly made comments about his overworld progress—saying that he’s building this character wrong, and that there’s an easier way to go around the obstacles; he just needs to use his head. Wonwoo forgot that this is a game that you also played frequently, and having to be on the receiving end of all your unsolicited advice made him want to end the stream altogether.

Except he can’t dish out his snarky rebuttals like he typically would on their friendly Discord calls because, wow, his viewers really were eating this shit up. Since the two of you typically argued on your friends’ streams and not his, Wonwoo hasn’t seen the gravity of these splintered interactions until now.

His eyes parse through the fast-paced comments flying into the chat, catching on a few questionable ones, like someone begging for the TikTok fans to make edits, the fanfic writers to create stories about the greatest enemies-to-lovers couple in Twitch history, and so on.

Wonwoo has been making his livelihood off the internet for years, but he still can’t get used to how strangely people behave sometimes.

He half-expects you to continue pestering him even after he finishes up with the stream, but his Discord notifs remain oddly silent, and Wonwoo decides to just hit the gym when Mingyu asks if he wants to come.

After he’s satisfied with today’s session, Wonwoo waits for Mingyu by the locker room, as his roommate is still getting their usual trainer to spot him while he does his bench presses. But when he fishes his phone out of his gym bag, he’s surprised to see a couple of messages from yours truly.

Koyahngi: sooo are you free tonight?

Koyahngi: i haven’t posted anything in a while, my followers must miss me

Wonwoo scowls at his phone once he reads the contents of your messages—earning himself a wary stare from this one person that passed him in the hall. Clearing his throat, he schools his expression into complete neutrality as he types in a response.

W0nwoo: Why do I have to get roped into this again? Can’t you just make your own content by yourself?

Koyahngi: they’re more into seeing the actual thing that just me playing with myself

Koyahngi: that, and i’m kind of really horny these days

W0nwoo: …So this is your idea of a booty call?

Koyahngi: pretty much, yeah.

“Wonwoo-hyung, you wanna get some chicken before we head home?” he hears Mingyu call out at the other end of the hall.

He has half the mind to tell him that stuffing his face with fried food right after working out is counterproductive as hell, but then again, it’s not like Wonwoo can reprimand him when he won’t even be there to begin with.

“I…actually have other plans.”

…

What the fuck is he doing here, honestly?

It’s not like Wonwoo doesn’t have any sort of sex drive or anything. In fact, the night after he dropped you off at your apartment, he might’ve had to…relieve himself during a quick shower before bed. Not that he’d ever admit to ever doing it. Letting off some steam every now and again is understandable though.

But this? Sitting at the foot of your bed as you got ready for him to fuck you silly?

This is a different breed of foolishness.

He seriously considers sneaking out of your apartment before you can emerge from the en-suite. Wonwoo can just shoot you a quick message, saying that this was all a mistake, and that he hopes you can find a more suitable partner to fuck around with. Because…he doesn’t just do these kinds of things with other people. He wouldn’t go as far as calling himself a romantic, but casual sex has never really interested him—insisting that there are other things in life to focus his energy on.

However, you come out of the bathroom before he can even hope to make up his mind, a cute robe patterned with pink kittens hiding your body from view. You muster up a kind smile as Wonwoo swallows thickly.

Yep. No backing out now.

“You look so tense for someone who just came from the gym,” you chuckle, making a beeline for your desk to grab your phone. “Aren’t work outs supposed to be a form of stress relief or something?”

“They are, but a certain someone is stressing me out again.”

“Hm. I wonder who?”

A few moments later, the mood lights hooked up to the ceiling start to glow, and you pad over to flip off the light switch. Almost immediately, the room is plunged into near-darkness, and Wonwoo feels himself take in a sharp breath when he sees how the red lighting paints your objectively cute robe in a more…lascivious light.

“So how do you wanna do this?” you ask before finally making your way towards the bed—planting a knee on either side of Wonwoo’s hips before hoisting yourself up to sit on his lap. He doesn’t dare to move an inch.

“Why are you asking me? Aren’t you going to direct how your own content plays out?” he questions gruffly, keeping his palms firmly at his sides despite the sudden compulsion to place them on your hips.

You chuckle as you make a show of biting your bottom lip—one finger trailing down the dri-fit shirt that Wonwoo changed into after showering at the gym. “I don’t think you understood what I was telling you the other night. You’re my dom, Wonwoo. You get to call the shots, not me.”

He closes his eyes with a withering sigh, wondering what sort of atrocities he’s committed in a past life to warrant having to end up in this situation.

“Don’t we have to get this on film? Can’t exactly hold a phone when you’re all over me like this.”

A soft giggle reverberates in your chest before you roll your hips, earning an exasperated groan from the man below you. This time, Wonwoo can’t contain the need to touch you, and his hands migrate to your thighs as he presses his hips further against yours—eyes never straying too far from your own.

“You don’t have to think about that just yet,” you murmur, trailing your lips along the cut of his jaw. “Let’s get a feel of each other first. I’ll let you know what I like, and you let me know what you like, yeah?”

It gives him so much vertigo, seeing you like this under the same red lights he’s always found disparaging to catch a glimpse of in your streams. Wonwoo is tethering dangerously across the tightrope of his self-control, but when you lace your fingers around his nape to press your foreheads together, Wonwoo realizes the effort is completely futile.

“What do you say, daddy?”

He doesn’t have a daddy kink. He knows he doesn’t. He’s always found it weird how others got off at the prospect of calling their sexual partners such a thing.

So why the hell is Wonwoo crushing your lips together like he’ll die if he doesn’t kiss you right this second? Why are his fingers gripping the swell of your ass as tightly as they are—grinding you down on his hardening length with a growl resonating deep in his chest? And why does he feel a rush of pride surge straight into his skull when you whimper against his mouth?

As he busies himself with devouring your lips, you shrug off the sleeves of your robe, making Wonwoo peel himself away for a second to get a glimpse of what you’ve been hiding underneath. When he’s rewarded with the spill of your bare breasts, he takes a sharp breath through gritted teeth—rolling his hips upward at the thought that you’ve chosen to forego underwear altogether.

“What’s your safeword?” he rasps, mouth hovering above your chest before he goes in for the kill, nipping and biting at your skin with the intention for it to hurt. A sick sense of satisfaction ripples in his chest when you moan out his name in response, and Wonwoo all but secures a strong arm around your waist to keep you from falling off.

“Red,” you mewl, all while you discard your robe altogether, rutting your bare cunt against his middle.

He sighs, reaching between your thighs to get a feel of just how ready you are for him. Wonwoo nearly bites down harshly when he finds you wet and wanting—your essence already trickling out of your needy hole and onto his sweats.

“Fuck,” he groans, lathering his free hand in your slick. “So fucking wet for me already. Did you touch yourself before I got here?”

“Mmmm,” you purr, taking his bottom lip between your teeth. “Fucked myself with a little toy thinking it was you.”

You assumed your eagerness to finally lie with the guy you’ve been trying to get with for months might spur him further into action. But something unspeakable shifts in the air and for a moment, Wonwoo is so silent, you figure he didn’t hear what you just said. Just when you’re about to call out his name, however, Wonwoo quickly maneuvers you off his lap, shoving you back onto the mattress with little heed for your comfort.

At first, you thought he was about to manhandle you into oblivion, but when the searing warmth of his body departs from yours, you look up at him with an inquisitive scowl.

“Sounds to me like you don’t need my cock after all,” he says coolly, yet fails to mask the anger sparking in his dark eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that? You’re obviously content with using a toy instead, right?”

“Wonwoo,” you groan, frustrated that he’s playing games now when you’re finally so goddamn close to what you’ve been hoping to happen for months. “Can you not go too deep into the domspace because I really, really need you to rail me like, right fucking now.”

“Shut up,” he scoffs before crossing his arms together. If it weren’t for the outline of his cock bulging through his sweats, you would’ve thought he was genuinely displeased with you. “Cocksluts like you don’t have the right to make demands.”

Fuck.

You only had a hunch back then, but Jeon Wonwoo might just be the dom of your dreams.

Instead of playing the brat like you always do, you let out a helpless whimper, sliding down to the floor before crawling to Wonwoo’s feet. He watches your movements with an impassive stare, looking so immovable even as you prop yourself up on your knees to nuzzle his clothed cock.

“Then what can I do for you, daddy?” you ask, fingers catching purchase on the strong flesh of his thighs. The heady scent of musk and detergent pervades your senses, and it takes every ounce of patience for you to keep yourself from pulling his sweatpants down and take him into your mouth. “You’re not just going to stare at me all night while you’re all pent up like this, right?”

Whatever semblance of playfulness you deigned to parade around Wonwoo is quickly snuffed out when he roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his ticked off gaze.

“I don’t think you understood your own words when you said I’m the one calling the shots here,” he growls, and you can feel another gush of slick seeping between your thighs. “You’re not allowed to talk until I say so. Keep those cheeky fucking comments to yourself or I’ll leave you high and dry. Got that?”

Oh my god, he’s fucking perfect.

When Wonwoo finally gets to fuck the frustration out of his system, he lies next to you on the sheets—waiting for you to swim out of that post-orgasmic high as he inspects the damage he’s done to your body.

It’s been a while since he’s gone out of his way to hook up with someone, so he isn’t surprised to see the plethora of love bites and bruises he ended up scattering across your skin. Wonwoo feels particularly pleased with himself when he sees the deep rise and fall of your chest—the bloom of hickeys you’ve amassed on your breasts still recognizable even under the deep red lights.

“I think I might be in love with you,” you sigh wistfully once you finally come to your senses. Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “I haven’t come that hard in months, Jesus.”

“Compliment me any more and it’ll get to my head,” he says before adding—much more sincerely than he usually sounds— “Are you okay?”

Turning around to face him, you pull him down for another kiss. Wonwoo grunts against your lips but snakes a hand around your waist anyways.

“I think you’re just about ready to film us now,” you whisper into the kiss, licking into his mouth in a way that’s stoking the ebbing flames of his arousal back to life. “Can I borrow your phone?”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at your request but moves to the nightstand where he unceremoniously discarded his phone before fucking you stupid. There are a couple of texts and other Discord notifications on screen that he completely ignores in favor of handing it to you unlocked.

You adjust your position on the mattress, easing your legs apart with the silent invitation for Wonwoo to come between them again. He can hardly believe that you’re still looking at him with the same bedroom eyes that you’ve been giving him since the night began. Just how much cock can you take, really?

“The mood lights shouldn’t be too dark, so don’t use flash,” you instruct him, handing Wonwoo his phone back with the Camera app already up and running. “Other than that, you’re free to do whatever you want to me, daddy.”

Wonwoo heaves yet another internal sigh as he positions himself between your legs, rubbing his half-hard cock along your ruined cunt. With a bated breath, he hits the Record button.

He hasn’t watched a lot of Twitter porn for a dozen reasons, but Wonwoo figures he shouldn’t get your face in the frame. Now that he’s finally in the shoes of whoever was fucking you from behind in the first clip he saw, he realizes it’s a little hard to keep filming this debauchery while subsequently trying not to lose his mind from how good your pussy feels. And he isn’t even inside you yet. Fuck.

The sensual way you move your body to meet his shallow thrusts makes him want to just chuck his phone back on the nightstand and ravish you all over again. But Wonwoo doesn’t do that. He simply continues with his ministrations, relishing in the cock-drunk look in your eyes once you reach out to pump his length in your smaller hand.

You don’t talk; neither does he. All that matters is the sensation of his cockhead sliding across your wet pussy lips while you jacked him off with a hazed out look in your eyes.

A possessive part of him takes great pride in knowing he’s the one making you feel like this; that he’s the reason behind that depraved expression you’re wearing. The moment you guide Wonwoo’s cock back into your tight channel, he uses his free hand to clamp his strong fingers around your throat—pressing down with just enough pressure to make you feel lightheaded.

The squelch of your cunt is sickeningly sweet, especially knowing that you still have his load inside you. Wonwoo is a bit too eager as he fucks his spend even deeper into your abused cunt, all while maintaining a steady grip on his phone as he captures all this on camera. He’s ruined you so badly that each time he slides himself to the hilt, he can see the creamy ring of your mixed juices at the base of his cock.

You’re driving him so fucking crazy, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

After a few experimental thrusts, Wonwoo picks up the pace—the grip he has on your throat tightening ever-so slightly. Just enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Fuck it.

He tosses his phone somewhere on the bed before moving to hook your legs over his shoulders. You shoot Wonwoo a bewildered look, a question already resting on your tongue, but the words are ground to dust when he pushes himself back into your sopping heat—deep enough that you can feel the fat head of his cock graze your cervix.

“Fuck, daddy!” you wail, completely helpless as Wonwoo pounds into you with unforgiving vigor. “So good… So fucking good.”

If you uttered those words the first time he fucked you earlier, he would’ve choked you out for going against his ‘don’t speak unless I say so’ rule. But Wonwoo is just so obsessed with the tight fit of your cunt fluttering around his cock that he can’t even find the headspace to be mad about your disobedience.

“You’re such a greedy fucking slut,” he growls, nipping the lobe of your ear. “Can’t get enough of this cock? You had to come onto me and let me ruin you twice in a single night?”

The only response you can come up with is a high-pitched keen of his name as Wonwoo feels your cunt pulsate around him, squeezing his cock so fucking tight as you lose yourself to your nth orgasm. He hisses as he pulls himself out of the velvet heat of your pussy, jerking himself a few times before he’s painting your tits with white ribbons of cum.

Wonwoo delights himself with the sight of his emission shining atop the marks he’s left on your body, and even entertains the thought that he won’t ever mind seeing such a sight again.

It takes about thirty minutes for you and Wonwoo to clean up—at his insistence, of course. After all, if he’s going to break you apart, it’s only fair for him to put you back together once all’s said and done.

For some reason though, you haven’t stopped looking at him weirdly as he runs a clean washcloth all over your spent body. Like the concept of aftercare is something completely foreign to you. But instead of bringing it up, you ask Wonwoo if you can borrow his phone again, and all he gives you is a small grunt of affirmation before padding over to the en-suite to get himself cleaned.

“You didn’t stop recording when you tossed it away?” He hears you laugh from the bedroom. “Oh my god…”

He didn’t…? Oh, well. He was too goddamn horny to notice anyway.

Wonwoo gets dressed while you continue tinkering with the video he took on his phone—airdropping it to yours so you could do a couple of changes. Turns out, there are a couple of instances where your face got caught in the frame, and you’re going to have to crop it and trim out the part where you’re audibly moaning each other’s names if you want to keep committing these acts of deviance on the side.

“Gotta say though, you’re a natural at getting my good angles,” you say, sounding completely pleased. “I wouldn’t mind having you over again~”

“Don’t push your luck.” He scoffs as he fastens the string of his sweats and puts his glasses back on.

But the two of you know he’ll be back either way.

When Wonwoo gets back to the apartment, he finds Mingyu lounging in front of the TV despite it being almost three in the morning. Something about marathoning a new drama that Wonwoo might’ve heard in passing. As exhausted as he is, he decides not to reprimand Mingyu altogether and marches straight to his room.

But just as he’s about to collapse straight into bed, his phone buzzes with another notification that makes him click his tongue in annoyance. It’s been going off non-stop since he left your place, but he didn’t pay it much mind since he assumed they were all Twitch and Discord notifs. Some of his friends did like pinging him unnecessarily even in the dead of night.

Although when Wonwoo realizes they’re Twitter notifications, he pauses.

He muted the notifs on his Twitter account ages ago.

Confused, he takes off his glasses and places them on the nightstand, eyes narrowed when he realizes a new account has been logged onto his phone. An account that just happened to tweet the same video he just took on his phone not two hours earlier.

🐈 • @ goodcat_badcat miss me? 💦

As fate might have it, a text notification hovers on top of his screen—with a contact name he doesn’t remember putting himself, but recognizes all the same.

🐈: hope you enjoyed the show, daddy <3

As he reads through the text, he wonders distantly when this will all come back to bite him in the ass.

But then again, Wonwoo really couldn’t care less.

part one - part two - part three - part four

end notes: hehe i really enjoyed writing this, so i hope you enjoyed reading as well! this is actually slated to have a second part sometime in the future, but for now, i think it'll do well as a standalone. i'll let wonwoo and reader fool around with their spicy sex life first before giving them ~feelings~ to worry about ^__^

this is part of the game over series!

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #wonwoo smut #wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo #streamer au #lovelyhan #🐇 1k #🐇 500 #full length fic 📚

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