#this was supposed to be a short fucking post but i can never just shut up

[crobones]

what if there was a fic from louis' perspective about pining over Daniel

and Louis realizing he cared for young and interesting Daniel just as much as he now "cares for" old man Daniel. Grampire Daniel is the best of both worlds but it's pining because he's convinced Daniel takes to vampirism so well because can experience independence again and be a free spirit, and really Louis almost convinces himself that he's just jealous of Daniel's second chance at reconnecting with his family. Because Daniel could talk with his exes or his daughters as a result of vampirism going public and the Daniel he knows could have been a great husband and father if the two of them had just never met and Daniel didn't get his brain broken by several days of constant mind manipulation and trauma. Louis knows he's just trying to make excuses for having been obsessed with a mortal, passing it off as "he's interesting" and some part of Louis is convinced that he doesn't know how to be independent and he should learn from Daniel.

Louis distracts himself by immersing himself fully into vampire society and making allies and killing those that try to kill him first and really he doesn't have to take on the responsibility of fending off vampires going after Daniel because Armand is also there in the shadows but Louis almost feels responsible for what's happening to Daniel. for both having been turned out of spite, and becoming a target, and really Louis just cares about Daniel's safety! that's all!

it's no matter that his thoughts turn to Daniel constantly, or to Daniel's happiness, or his old man hands, or the lovely curls that are even more lovely now that they're silver and grey, or his extremely attractive carefree confidence, or his colour shifting eyes that were always so expressive but now even more so, or his tongue that's always cracking wise but now is always licking at or playing with his fangs mindlessly like he doesn't know how sexy it is.

he also realizes that he's better at maintaining a telepathic conversation during his occasional hook-up with Lestat because either Lestat never realizes it now, or he simply ignores it and enjoys what Louis gives him, willfully ignorant to the lengthy conversations Louis has had with Daniel in flagrant delicto when Daniel just calls him out of the blue sometimes (curious that Daniel's timing has caused this happen more than a few times.) Daniel definitely doesn't know, because that would be embarrassing and how could he explain it away? how can Louis explain that he's orgasmed with the sound of Daniel's rough laughter filling his mind at some joke that probably wasn't even that funny, but don't worry Louis is sure there's no connection there.

Louis' fine. He's fine.

When Daniel finds out all that Louis is doing by killing other vampires that set out to hurt his boy, of course Louis will play it off as feeling responsible for it all - for every bad thing that has happened to Daniel but Daniel just laughs at him and Louis' a bit hurt but Daniel explains that they'll never know if '73 really broke his brain because it's in the past and they're here now and maybe Louis should get over himself, just a little bit. Daniel made his own decisions, ruined his own marriages, was estranged from his own daughters for nearly a decade because of his own fuck ups. Louis shouldn't blame himself for everything, because Daniel doesn't blame Louis at all. Daniel appreciates the apology, but wishes Louis didn't make himself the sin-barer. Daniel says he wouldn't be his friend if he blamed Louis for any of it.

Louis' relief is followed closely by a hollow ache in his chest and really all he's ever wanted was a friend, so why did it hurt when Daniel said it? Vampires become obsessive over everything, surely he's just being protective of his only friend. The friend that cares about what Louis wants and not just what he thinks he needs, or what he could take from Louis. Daniel is a fantastic friend. Friend. Fuck.

[bootycallin]

since the oscar’s literally js happened i thought of something. cw: fingering (r! receiving), cunnilingus (r! receiving), swearing ig, a lil titty play. written w modern! vi in mind for obvious reasons. not proofread.

“vi… vi!”

you spoke between giggles as vi attacked your chest, kissing your tits, sucking on your nipples. you had jokingly said that if you two’s favorite actress won, you would make love. and, if she lost, you’d fuck. well, you’re in luck.

“terms of service,” she groaned, kissing your sternum, groaning softly. her palm is rubbing your cunt over your little shorts. she was more than a little eager, and stressed, as the awarding went on and on and that damned actress got nothing. she knew you were joking, but she was already horny and prepared the strap.

“vi—vi, she didn’t even get best actress!”

“don’t fucking care,” she grumbled, shutting you up with a kiss, hand slipping under your bottoms and rubbing at your clit. she had already seen you didn’t have panties on. every other minute of the celebration, you were looking sideways at her, teasing. she’s never watching any awards with you, ’cause this is hell.

she swallows your moan, two fingers slipping into your pussy with the ease. you’re so wet, so easy. how is she supposed to wait any longer?

“fuck, she won, right?” she asks, lowering herself till she was between your legs, already in the process of pulling your shorts down. “right?”

“she didn’t even—ah,” you gasp as her tongue licks right over your clit. “she didn’t even get up there y-yet…”

“but her movie won, right?” she didn’t give you time to answer, sucking strong on your clit, kissing and licking the puffy member like she was making out with your cunt. she might as well have been. her fingers are relentless, scissoring you open, until yet another finger fits in, curling up against that spongy spot deep inside you. she fingers and sucks on your cunt, your folds, licking a stripe up the slit. it’s practically worshipful, your pussy a temple for her. she’s drunk off the way you taste alone.

she notices your eyes are fixated on her, and stops just to say, “keep watchin’.”

“vi…”

you turned your head to the tv, shaky sighs and moans escaping you. how long did these speeches even last? she had been down there for five minutes tops and you were already building up to an orgasm. your neighbors would definitely be complaining.

“shit, vi—“ her fingers curled up just a little bit rougher. she practically growls as she sucks on your clit, rough, eyebrows knit together in concentration. it taken a few more thrusts of her fingers and suctions of her tongue before you’re cumming right on her face, to which she just removes her fingers and mouth from you. you whined at the sudden loss of stimulation, pulling a grin from her, as she just shoves her tongue into your hole, tasting your release.

“ah-shit, vi…!” you moaned, giggled all the same, head thrown back, one hand in her hair to keep her close. she doesn’t stop until your thighs close around her, nearly suffocating. she wrenches them apart with her hands, pulling away from your puffy, abused cunt—not before kissing your clit, tongue and all.

her lips crash against yours immediately. you can taste yourself on her. only parting to lick her fingers, she kisses you again, just to make sure you can taste all of her, all of you. one hand on your nape, yours tangled in her hair, moaning and groaning reverberating, until…

“she lost best actress,” you said, breathlessly, both looking at the tv simultaneously. she shrugged.

“it’s a win-win, then.”

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[delilahsturniolo]

⋆˙⟡ ۶ৎ 📞 BABY, CAN YOU CALL ME BACK? I MISS YOU . . .

in which . . . you and matt get into an argument over the phone while he’s away for tour. matt calls you again hours later, apologizing and letting you know how much he misses you.

warnings . . . phone sex, mutual masturbation, degradation, dirty talk, arguing, angst, sexual descriptions, cursing, matt talking you through it.

written by @delilahsturniolo, do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

the call starts out fine. he’s in some city you can’t remember the name of. maybe denver. or dallas. it doesn’t matter. he’s not here. he hasn’t been for weeks. you’re curled up on your bed, wearing his hoodie, one of the only things that still smells like him. it’s past midnight and the video call glitches when he answers. he looks tired. his hair’s messy. he’s got a water bottle in one hand and his phone in the other, held up under his chin like he can’t be bothered to try. “hey,” he says, voice scratchy from the show “hey,” you reply, quiet.

he talks about the crowd, about his travels, all that stuff. you nod. smile where it feels appropriate. but something’s off, he doesn’t ask about your day. doesn’t notice the dark circles under your eyes or the way your voice shakes a little when you talk. and you’re already too close to the edge to let it slide. you miss him, so damn much. “do you even care how i am?” you blurt. matt pauses. “what?”

“you didn’t ask. not once.” your voice cracks. “i’ve been trying so hard to be cool about this, matt, but i feel like i’m dating a fucking ghost.” his jaw tightens. “that’s not fair.”

“neither is the fact that i haven’t seen you in a month and the best i get is a ten-minute facetime where you talk more about the food you ate than me.”

“i’m working,” he says, sharper now. “this isn’t a vacation. i’m exhausted.”

“and i’m lonely!” you snap, tears brimming. “but that doesn’t matter, right? because as long as you’re doing your thing, i’m just supposed to shut up and deal with it.”

he goes quiet. his face darkens. “i can’t do this right now,” he mutters. “of course not,” you say bitterly. “you never can.” then he hangs up. your phone screen goes black and the room suddenly feels colder. you don’t cry. not at first. you just sit there, staring at the screen, fists clenched, chest burning with anger and heartbreak. you toss your phone on the bed, crawl under the covers, and try to pretend you’re not falling apart.

two hours pass.

then, your phone buzzes, you don’t look right away. but then the screen lights up again. matt calling, your heart stutters. you answer. neither of you says anything for a few seconds. then his voice…low, rough, soft in the dark.

“i’m sorry.”

you breathe out slowly. “me too.”

“i shouldn’t have hung up. that was a dick move.”

“i shouldn’t have picked a fight,” you whisper. “i just… miss you so bad it hurts.” he exhales. “i know, baby. i miss you too. like fucking crazy.” silence. then, more quietly…

“can i tell you something?” he asks.

“yeah.”

“i—i just…i needed to hear your voice again.”

your breath catches.

“been laying in this hotel bed thinking about you. thinking about how mad you looked. even that turned me on.” his voice dips, husky now. “you know what that does to me, don’t you?”you squirm under your blankets. “what?”

“the way your voice sounds when you’re mad. the way your lips pout when you’re frustrated. i kept picturing you walking away from the phone, pacing in my hoodie, no pants on, just those little shorts that ride up when you sit…fuck.” your body heats instantly.

“matt…”

“i know, baby. i know. you’re probably in bed right now, aren’t you? wearing that hoodie. nothing else.” you can’t speak. your breath’s gone, you clench your thighs together, trying to contain the heat pooling between your legs.

“i’d be touching you if i was there. slow. careful. i’d make it up to you, make you forget why you were ever mad in the first place. i’d kiss your thighs, your stomach, every inch of you.”

“matt,” you whisper, needy now.

“say it again,” he murmurs. “please.”

“matt,” you moan out into the speaker, softer, more desperate.

“good girl,” he groans. “you don’t even know what you do to me.” you close your eyes, biting your lip. “touch yourself for me,” he says, voice ragged. “just a little. i wanna hear how bad you need me.” your fingers trail down slowly, as he whispers your name again and again like a prayer, voice thick with lust and love and everything you’ve both been holding in for too long. the argument fades like smoke, what’s left is the ache. the love. the promise of his hands on you again soon.

you breathe, your hand sliding down your body. "i miss you so much, i need you." matt groans. "i know, baby, i need you too," he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "i wish i could touch you, taste you, feel your body against mine. i'd run my hands all over your soft skin, teasing you until you were begging for more."

"tell me what you'd do to me," you beg, your fingers toying with the hem of your panties. "tell me how you'd make me feel."

"first, i'd kiss you, long and deep," he starts, his voice low and seductive. "i'd taste every inch of your mouth, claim you with my tongue. then i'd trail kisses down your neck, sucking and biting until i left marks on your skin…” you moan softly, your eyes fluttering closed as you imagine his lips on your body. your fingers slip beneath your panties, finding your clit and circling it slowly.

"then i'd move down to your breasts, sucking and licking your nipples until they were hard and aching," he continues, his voice rough with desire. "i'd worship your body with my mouth, kissing and tasting every inch of your skin." you whimper, your fingers moving faster against your clit. "more," you beg, your voice breathy and needy.

"then i'd spread your legs, baring your pretty pussy to me," he growls, and you can hear the hunger in his voice. "i'd lick you from top to bottom, tasting your sweetness. i'd fuck you with my tongue, thrusting it deep inside you until you were writhing and moaning beneath me." you cry out, your hips bucking against your hand. "matt, please," you whimper, your body trembling with need.

"fuck yourself on your fingers," he commands, his voice low and rough. "imagine it's my cock inside you, stretching you open, filling you up. i want you to feel me, even though i'm not there." you obey, sliding two fingers inside yourself, your walls clenching around them. you moan loudly, your hips rocking against your hand.

"that's it, baby," he encourages, his voice strained. "fuck yourself just like that, take what you need. imagine my hands on your body, my cock deep inside you." you hear him moan softly, and you realize he's stroking himself, his hand moving up and down his thick shaft. the thought of him jerking off to the sound of your moans sends a thrill through your body.

"you like that, don't you?" he growls, his voice low and dirty. "you like knowing i'm stroking my cock, thinking about your tight little pussy. you're such a dirty little slut, aren't you?" you moan loudly, your fingers moving faster inside yourself. "yes," you whimper, your voice breathy and needy. "i'm—oh my gosh..”

"fuck, you're so hot," he groans, his breathing ragged. "i wish i could see you, see your fingers fucking your pussy, see your face as you cum. i’d give anything to be inside you right now, pounding into you until you screamed."

"matt," you gasp, your fingers curling inside yourself. "i'm so close, i need to cum!”

"cum for me," he growls, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "cum all over your fingers, let me hear you scream. i want to hear how good i make you feel, even from miles away." with a cry, you come undone, your body convulsing around your fingers. you moan his name over and over again, your hips bucking wildly. "that's it, baby," he purrs, his voice low and satisfied. "just like that. i wish i could be there to hold you, to taste your cum on my tongue, to feel your body against mine."

you hear his breathing quicken, his moans growing louder. "fuck, i'm gonna cum," he groans, his voice rough with pleasure. "i'm gonna cum thinking about you, about your tight pussy, your gorgeous body." with a loud moan, he comes undone, his cum spilling over his hand as he strokes himself through his orgasm. you listen to his moans, your body trembling with pleasure. "soon," you promise, your voice rough with emotion. "soon we'll be together again."

"i can't wait," he whispers. "until then, know that i love you, that i'm always thinking of you. i'll be dreaming of you tonight, of touching you and tasting you and fucking you until you scream." you laugh. "i love you too," you reply, your heart swelling with love and desire. as you lay in bed, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure, you know that no matter the distance between you, your love will always keep you connected.

© delilahsturniolo

taglist

[luvyeni]

MÉNAGE À TROIS ,, 钟辰乐 & 박지성

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ jisung walks in on you and chenle having sex … and you both don’t mind ヾ

boyfriend!钟辰乐・ FEM!reader ・ ‎ 박지성 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎2.4k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

𓂃 🎞️ content warning . . . threesome, unprotected sex, oral ( M ), mxm themes, mxf themes, no real dom or sub themes, jisung could be seen as a sub, alludes to poly relationship

request. hello!! could you maybe write some smut where chenle is fucking yn and all of a sudden jisung enters their apartment and yn is like “i don’t care keep going” and eventually jisung finds them both and is invited to join

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i finished it , i hope you like it 🫶🏾✨

you didn’t even hear the door close; chenle on the other hand was always hyper aware of everything, even when he was balls deep inside you. “oh-oh fuck baby, fuck.” he struggled to get the words out. “fuck the door just opened , jisung is home.” he said in between moans. “fuck be quiet so he won’t hear.”

you and chenle started out as friends; along with jisung — you three were a threesome who eventually moved in together. about a year into moving in together you and chenle entered a relationship, but you two never left jisung out; you guys did everything together still, but he still gave you two private time. “he’s gonna hear.”

you wrapped your legs around the man’s waist , keeping him from pulling out. “fuck i don’t care , keep going.” you moaned. “let him hear , don’t stop fucking me please.” you could feel the man above you twitching inside you. “fuck you want him to hear?” chenle said. he knew about the little infatuation you held with the younger boy, he knew you’d never cheat on him, but hearing you say this made him wonder how many times have you moaned a little bit too loud just for the boys amusement. “fucking slut.”

he grabbed your legs, almost folding them in half. “you want him to hear me fucking you?” he groaned. “give him some material to jerk off to?” him saying that affected himself more than you, the thought of his best friend stroking his cock to the thought of you two fucking. “sh-shit.” he cursed , you smirked. “se-seems like you want him to hear you as well.” that earned a slap to your cunt. “fucking slut shut up, gonna cum in this pussy , let him hear you cum.”

jisung on the other hand, he was unaware — his headphones shielding him from the outside noises. he was supposed to be working tonight, but his shift was cut short and all his other friends were busy so he was forced to come home. he didn’t mind being home, he loved it there, but he couldn’t help but feel like a third wheel sometimes. often left out of plans and having to make plans so you two can have private time. no you two never forced him to do that , but he could just tell when you wanted to be alone as a couple, and you did always try to include him in everything but you two were a couple and he didn’t just want to be there on obligation.

so maybe it was all in his head, but that was him. was he jealous of you two? no, he was happy his two bestest friends found love in each other — maybe he wished he could find something like that… or be a part of the original.

jisung never really struggled with his sexuality; he always knew he liked girls, that was a fact. but he also felt that small attraction to the same sex, there’s only so many times he can pop a boner at the gym sauna when looking at a naked guy before you just came to terms with it and jisung had.

did he find you both attractive? yes he was; but, out of respect for the both of you and your friendships he didn’t say anything… even if he did sometimes hear you two going at it — biting down on his shirt as he fisted his cock to the sounds of both of you moaning. the post nut clarity always left him disgusted with himself, unable to look both of you in his eye the next morning feeling like a pervert.

he was always successful in never walking in on you both; that would have been so awkward, especially if you both happened to lower your eyes and notice his hard on, but he was soon about to mess up that streak all because of those stupid noise blocking headphones you bought out of guilt. “chenle fuck im gonna cum!”

chenle was still plowing into you. “cum slut.” the knots in your stomach tightening, gripping the sheets. “fuck im gonna cum too.” both of you moaning, ready to cum. “oh fuck!” the door came swinging open, right as you both hit your highs. “shit chenle im cumming!”

jisung stood there, he couldn’t hear what just happened— but the visual he was given, your eyes rolling and his other male counterparts head rolling back, he could tell what just happened… and he was mortified. “oh my god, i'm so sorry.”

the two of you didn’t even notice him, until he said something. chenle smirked down at you hearing the boy's voice, his head turning around to face his friend. “i see those headphones work.” he said. “unless you wanted to walk in just as we were cumming together.”

he snatched the headphones off his head. “no-no i swear i didn’t hear anything and the door was open so i thought– chenle leave him alone.” you ran your fingers through your hair. “what? he’s the one still standing there watching like a perv while im still inside you.” you boyfriend said. “yeah and your cock is harder than before with this knowledge, so his company doesn’t seem to bother you.”

jisung couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “i-im sorry, i swear i’ll leave you alone, i have these.” he nervously held the headphones, praying to whoever above you both didn’t notice his hard on. “why just so you can go in your room and jerk off , only to ignore us the next morning?” that made his cock twitch. “n-no im- jesus chen , spare him at least if you’re not gonna give him head.” the younger boy's eyes widened. “huh?”

“do you want me to suck you off?” chenle asked ever so nonchalantly, jisung was speechless. “of course he does, he’s been standing there with a hard on for a minute.” you smirked, eyes traveling down to his pants, he tried to cover it up. “i-i don’t know what to say.” he couldn’t tell if you two were playing with him. “well if he’s good at sucking dick like he is at eating pussy, i’d say yes.” you tapped chenle, signaling him to pull out.

you got up from the bed; making your way over to the boy; he felt like he was in a dream, he walked in on his friends fucking, now his fully nude best friend was guiding him to the bed were he was about to get head from his other friend. “sit down.” you pushed him down against the bed.

chenle sat back on his legs, watching you unbuckle another man’s pants; his eyes traveled to his friends cock popping out from his jeans; he’d seen it in his sweats, and he accidentally walked in on him numerous times, but it looked much bigger when he was hard. “think you can fit him in your mouth?” you asked your boyfriend, that made jisung groan. “this coming from mrs.i can’t give a blow job to save my life.” you scoffed. “remember that when you’re begging me to give you head… again.”

you two put your playful banter aside for the boy who still was pale as a ghost. “don’t be nervous.” you kissed his neck. “we’ll take care of you.” you sucked little hickeys down his neck. “don’t we always?” you bit down gently on his ear. “ye-yeah.” jisung stuttered. “you look like you’re about to cum already.” chenle wrapped his hands around the younger boy's cock. “fu-fuck.” he moaned as he began to stroke him, jisung prayed he didn’t cum soon. “are you really that sensitive?”

chenle pushed the boys legs open further, bring his lips down to his cock blowing in the boys tip making his hips buck. “fuck please.” jisung whimpered. “fuck.” his head was thrown back as his friend lowered his head down on his cock. “oh my god.” you smirked. “feel good?” jisung nodded.

chenle bobbed his head up and down on jisungs length, the tip of his friends cock kissing the back of his throat. “come here.” you grabbed the boys cheeks. “so cute.” you brought his lips against yours, taking his hands, bringing it down to your boobs; down your stomach and in between your legs. he moaned against your mouth feeling your wetness on his fingers, he often thought about doing this while he jerked himself off.

you pulled away he moaned as chenle sucked harder on his cock. “fu-fuck you’re so wet.” he moved his fingers up and down your slit. “fu-fuck ji.” you moaned. “put them in.” he pushed his slender finger past your hole. “shit.” you moaned as he curled his finger inside you. “you’re fucking good at that, gonna make me cum.”

jisung could already feel his orgasm approaching as well. “ch-chenle.” the older boy's cock jumped hearing the boy moan his name like that, it encouraged him to go faster. “oh wait fuck!” he groaned, he tried to stop the boy but you were currently riding his fingers and his other just wouldn’t cut it. “fuck im cumming!” you screamed just as the younger boy's head tipped back as his orgasm took over. “fuck!”

chenle pulled off the boy's cock, just in time because the boy was shooting sticky cum from his cock almost immediately, he jerked the boy off pulling more cum from him. “fuck look at both of you.” chenle said, his voice a little sore. “so fucked up, im glad you two got what you wanted im still fucking hard.”

jisung pulled his fingers out of you, your orgasm dripping down his hand. “don’t let it go to waste, taste it.” chenle ordered, jisung brought his fingers to his lips, wrapping his lips around. “taste like fucking candy doesn’t she?” he hummed. “next time you can taste it straight from the source.” chenle said. “right now i need to fuck or be fucked by either one of you.”

“how about you both fuck me this time and then next time we switch?” this was the second time jisung had heard next time and he wasn’t mad at it — he doesn’t think he’d be able to fuck anyone after this experience again. “of course you say that always ready to be fucked.” chenle scoffed. “ji lay down and you in his lap then, you wanna be fuck by both of us? fine.” chenle slapped your ass watching you climb on top of the boy. “look how wet you made her ji, fucking dripping on your cock.”

chenle wrapped his hand around jisungs cock once again, holding it as you sunk down on it. “oh fuck.” jisung let out a whimper like moan. “shes fucking tight ain’t she?” jisung nodded. “so-so fucking tight.” you moaned out feeling chenles finger enter your hole. “about to stretch this pussy past her limits.” he groaned, stroking his cock. “show jisung how good this messy cunt is.”

he removed his finger, replacing it with his cock. “chenle!” you screamed, feeling him pushing his cock inside you. “shit.” jisung moved, feeling his friend's cock brushing against his, both of them trapped together in the wonder that is your cunt, squeezing them like a vice. “my god this feels good.” you moaned, moving your hips yourself. “look at you, so impatient -fuck- such a damn slut.”

he slapped your ass; watching it recoil. “re-really putting on a show for our boy here aren’t you.” you smiled down at the younger boy moaning. “fu-fuck yeah, how will i get him stay.”

jisung moaned, hearing you boy talk about him like that. “yeah that’s your -fuck- that’s your goal, fucking him so good he stays?” you nodded, chenle grabbed your hips. “well then let me help put in some work, give him an even better reason.” he began to speed up, jisung hips bucked unintentionally , the feeling of your cunt tightening around his cock, paired with his friend's cock rubbing against his. “sh-shit i love this so much.” jisung groaned. “so fucking much.”

the room was smoldering hot; sweat dripping down from each of you, your skin slapping against each other — all three of you moaning. you were the first one to cum , your body shaking as you came with a loud porn like scream. “shit.” chenle moaned our feeling your cunt convulse around him. “fuck im gonna cum, gonna fucking cum inside you.” he moaned, cock twitch as spurts of white shot inside you.

jisung was last to cum, you held his face in your hand. “im gonna cum.” he said. “i-i need to pull out.” he groaned. “no don't, please don't pull out.” jisung looked to chenle , who was still inside you. “fu-fuck you heard her, she wants to be used as a cum dump, then do what she wants…” chenle said. “cum inside her.”

that’s all jisung needed before he was cumming. “oh fuck!” he moaned, cumming. your eyes were fucked out as you laid against the boys chest. “we fucked her dumb ji , she gets real mushy afterwards.” chenle pulled out, watching the cum spill from your cunt. “sh-shut up.”

“get up.” chenle playfully slapped your ass. “chenle stop.” jisung found a small bit of comfort in how playful you two were afterwards, it wasn’t awkward at all. “jisung just twitched inside me.” you teased the younger boy. “did seeing him do that make you feel something?” his face turned an even deeper red. “you’re gonna have to stop being so timid if you want to continue this.” chenle said.

“this?” he said, he never thought it would go further than maybe once or twice — three times if he prayed hard enough. “you think i would’ve put your cock in my mouth if i didn’t plan on having you do the same to me eventually?” you chuckled seeing the boy's face. “chenle you have to lean slowly into that , not everyone likes giving head.”

“ji ji , let’s go shower.” you stood up, holding your hand out. “you want to shower with me?” you nodded. “chenle hates showering with me.” the older boy rolled his eyes. “because you keep the water temperature at hell, so no i don’t like seeing my skin steaming as it cooks me from the inside.” he grumbled. “both of you go shower and i’ll change the sheets , and order some food.”

jisung took your hand and you guided him to the bathroom. “come.” you called him over once you reached the bathroom. “if you can be quiet then i’ll show that chenle is just being a dick when he said i can’t give head , i just like to withhold it from him to piss him off.” jisung felt like he was in heaven.

chenle on the other hand was still grumbling as he fixed the bedsheets. “this is crazy.” he said to himself. “I found two people who hate giving head , but love getting head.”

he still couldn’t help but smile though…

©️LUVYENI

[chelseeebe]

wanna be yours

18+. smut. voyeurism ig? eddie, steve and reader are all freaky little fucks;) steddie x reader.

this is just something short and sweet to ease myself back into posting lol. idk if anyone read my post, but i will be going ahead with my plans for a spooky week on my blog!! i'm super excited about it!!!! i need to organise everything but when everything is finalised, i'll update you all :)⋅

───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───

eddie had known he and steve were never going to be the best of friends, that was clear from the moment he’d moved in. 

donning a basketball and a polo shirt rather than a bass guitar and an amp. 

when his girlfriend had started coming around, he didn’t think she liked him much either. 

there wasn’t a day where you weren’t arguing or bickering over something stupid.  

eddie just kept his head down, sliding his headphones over his ears instead of listening to the yelling. 

he did that a lot while you were around, keeping his head low so as to not make it completely obvious that he had a serious boner for you. 

he doesn’t think that steve was the type to take lightly to something like that, more likely to beat his ass than to fist bump over your appearance. 

well. 

maybe you’d caught him looking a few times. gormless in staring at your tight jeans or the tiny skirts you went out in. but that was all. 

you’d usually smile a little, maybe even twirl to give him a better view and then flounce out of the door on steve’s arm. 

but now, his eyes stay clamped shut. 

he’s not stupid. 

the blanket rustles in a certain way when you’re doing something you’re not supposed to be. 

contrary to popular belief, eddie had had sex before. he knew about the little sighs and muffled grunts, that’s why he could tell instantly what was happening five feet away from his bed. 

you whisper something to steve, too mumbled for eddie to really make it out. 

“nah.. he’s asleep,” steve reassures, louder than you had been. 

he wasn’t. but he doesn’t want to look now, squeezing his eyes shut tighter and attempting to control his rapid breathing. 

the mattress creaks as steve pulls your body closer, his chest pressed against your back as his hand fusses with your tiny pajama shorts. 

you exhale softly, signaling that this was no longer just a raunchy make out session and instead a manifestation of both his biggest dream and worst nightmare. 

there’s not much you can do on a university of chicago single bed. but you were sure giving it a try. 

“shit,” your voice shudders, now accompanied by the unmistakable sound of skin against skin.

eddie doesn’t mean to, honest. 

but his eyes flicker, forcing themselves open to witness the x-rated scene in front of him. he can’t help it, his mind going positively crazy trying to picture what was happening. 

he just needed a reference image, something to help him fall asleep. 

you’re already looking back, eyelids flitting shut with every stroke of steve’s cock, your mouth hung open with wetted lips. 

he can’t pull his eyes away. not with your gaze solidly meeting his, not when you were already looking at him. 

your lips quirk into a smile, throwing your head back against steve’s shoulder but your eyes steady on him. 

the blanket bobs up and down, consistent with the rhythm of the old squeaking mattress and steve’s low grunts. his face buried into the back of your neck, acting as a muzzle. 

his hand snakes around your body, fist wrapping around your exposed neck. 

eddie almost chokes on his breath, his fingers curling around his blanket. his cock was throbbing at this point, aching in his tight boxers. 

fuuuck. 

how is he even in this situation? he should be out partying or pulling an all-nighter in the library or maybe even meeting his very own girlfriend. 

no. 

he’s laid up watching his roommate fuck his girlfriend instead. 

your eyes glitter in the low light, just before you pull out the big guns. 

“oh fuuck steve,” breathlessly whining into the room, zero regard to the volume of your mewls. 

steve hums, the hand that enveloped your neck now sliding down slowly to your tits, grabbing hungrily at the flesh. 

eddie’s own hand palms at his skin, pawing pathetically at his thigh in a bid to divert some of the blood rushing to his dick, elsewhere. 

steve’s pace fastens, his own moans getting louder, deeper even. his mouth sucking at the taut skin of your neck. 

you weren’t trying to hide it anymore, blinking slowly as steve pounds into you. the headboard now joining in on the chorus of sounds, repetitive and loud in the otherwise quiet room. 

eddie’s cock twitches, forcing a strangled huff from his throat. he needed to touch you, badly. fingernails leaving half-moon markings in his thigh, counteracting the gnawing ache settling in his cock. 

what steve does next very nearly sends eddie to fucking mars. 

his hand leaves your chest, sliding back up your neck, his middle and fore finger circle your glossy lips before sliding slowly into your mouth. 

holy fucking shit. 

“just like that, honey,” steve coos, his lips cock to the side.

he’s known this entire time.

eyes peering out from over your neck, watching eddie watch you and your performance. 

eddie’s eyes flicker between the two of you, unsure of where to settle. 

this all felt so strangely intimate, like he should get up and go join the two of you. he would, of course, if that were even an option. 

to steve, this was probably some weird power play. a real, dirty kink, maybe. he’d hold this over eddie for the rest of the year, goading and taunting him about the time he watched him fuck his girlfriend. 

but you, he can’t figure out. 

you were looking at him first. 

that had to mean something. 

you draw him out of his thoughts with a thick, raspy moan, stifled by steve’s fingers still between your lips. 

“c’mon baby,” steve groans, averting his eyes back to you, “you gonna cum? give it to me princess,” his thrusts becoming more sporadic as he obviously nears his own orgasm. 

your eyes close fully now, leaving eddie to watch on his own. squeaking out intoxicating mewls with every stroke, every slap of skin. 

your body goes limp in steve’s hold, “ohh shit- don’t stop, please.. please don’t stop,” desperate pleas turning to whimpers as steve comes to his own climax. 

throaty gasps for air mix with your whining words, frazzling eddie’s poor, hopeless brain for the rest of his inadequate life.  

his dick hurts, straining in his hole-y boxers, begging to be touched. he’ll have to tiptoe out to the bathroom once he’s sure you’re asleep. not that it even matters now. 

eddie can’t help but let his mind wander, had he cum in you? was it dripping out of your pussy?

he’s disgusted with himself for even going there. 

steve sighs, placing a lazy kiss to the back of your neck, glancing at eddie one last time before embracing sleep and letting his eyes flutter shut. 

it takes longer for you to come back down to earth, still reeling from your orgasm when your hazy gaze meets his again. 

there’s something different about your eyes, something that was missing from steve’s. the warmness, the friendly crinkle that sat on the corner. he’s not sure but it makes his heart thud even faster. 

you blink a couple times before turning over and nestling into steve’s chest. 

eddie’s left reeling. 

a churning in his stomach that he’s not sure he’ll ever be rid of.  

he waits until your breathing slows completely and steve starts snoring before padding out of the room, an obvious tent in his boxers and a dying urge to make it disappear. 

life wouldn’t ever be the same again. 

[pettysreverie]

Shutting a very (nervous) chatty soap up by letting him give you head under the table of a fairly fancy restaurant?

(oh my fucking gosh!!! my first ask request! >.< sorry it took my so long babes, ya girl has been busy and also just down and out with cramps. Also? I was trying to decide on what was making him nervous...anywho! I hope this lives up to your expectations!!!)

CW: AFAB!Reader, Exhibitionism, Dubcon, I love writing out accents :P, as always if I missed any important warnings pls feel free to let me know (in case you didn't read my intro post, i get heavy handed with exposition. i'm not used to writing short form fanfic T.T have never written a 100 word anything outside of academia...sorry loves)

Okay, so the way I see it, Soap is a chatty motherfucker all the time anyway. Cracking jokes, making conversation, the whole spiel. He's a naturally extroverted guy, so it's not like he can help it...but when he's nervous? Oh, there's absolutely no shutting him up.

But can you blame him for being nervous? He definitely did not think he would he ever manage a date with you, an actress he's recently come to admire.

It started with seeing you in a few small roles here and there and enjoying them. And as you grew in notoriety and landed bigger roles, Johnny found himself seemingly following along—watching each project. Before he had even realized it, he had naturally become a fan boy of yours.

So he was absolutely surprised when, upon returning home from deployment, he had run into you. The poor bastard had nearly passed out.

He thought he had died and gone to heaven when you had actually given him the time of day, letting him chat with you in the queue as you two waited for your respective orders at the cafe.

And when, upon parting, you had accepted his invitation for a date and had given him your number? He really thought he was on cloud fucking nine.

This, all of this, the Scotsman nervously rambles to you as you sit for said date.

He's on edge, which is more than obvious—but you find it endearing. Johnny is just so charming. Even as he trips over his own words and blushes every so often, he manages to make you laugh.

And it's not like you don't understand.

Maybe you don't know exactly what he's feeling right now, but you've been in similar situations. And so, maybe that is why you just cannot help but try to lighten the mood.

"With how much you can talk, it's a wonder if you use that motormouth of yours for anything else."

Okay...even to your own ears, you realize that maybe you shouldn't have said that. You wince, ready to apologize, but Johnny's blue eyes seem to sparkle and the Scotsman smirks at you.

"Aye?"He asks, cocking a brow at you as he leans back in his chair. "Well, ah can promise ye... Ah can show ye be'er then ah can tell ye."

It takes you a moment, but it comes to you that he is not so nervous anymore. A more calm and confident air surrounds him now, his gaze more assured.

A shiver runs down your spine.

You have only just met the man, but you can tell that Johnny is many things. Intelligent. Extroverted. Charming. But how are you supposed to know that he is also a massive eater—that this man loves eating pussy?

How are you supposed to know that yes, he is a military sergeant that has a talent for many things, namely diffusing bombs…but eating pussy is where he truly thrives and shines?

There's just absolutely no way he's going to pass up an opportunity to eat you out. Not even if you two are in a fairly nice restaurant, sitting across from each other on your first date.

So of course it is a surprise that a smirk spreads across his lips, "Ma bad, bonnie. Yer right. Donnae mind if ah do."

And before you can call him off, telling him that you were only joking, the Scotsman has disappeared himself under your table. A feat unto itself given his not so small size, but with the tablecloth draped over the table and the natural humdrum of the restaurant life buzzing all around you, he is provided the perfect cover.

His nimble fingers hitch up your dress, his lips ghosting along your thighs. You can feel his stubble scratching your skin in a way that makes your breath hitch.

"Forgive me for ma ramblin' bonnie. Ah'll make it up tae ye."He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear from beneath the table, pulling a small yelp out of you as he nips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

You're caught between wanting to convince him to stop, and wanting to see where this goes.

It's not like you're some A-list celebrity. Sure, you're getting bigger roles, but nothing too big just yet. Nothing that would garner you too much unnecessary attention naturally, anyways. You're not at the point, yet, of worrying about tabloids or paparazzi or being sneakily recorded by fans. For now, thankfully.

Still, the prospect of getting kicked out of such a nice restaurant and getting hit with a public indecency charge doesn't sound very nice.

On the other hand...?

On the other hand, you have a super sexy Scottish military sergeant beneath the table and between your legs right this moment. Talk about a wet dream come true...

You snap out of your own thoughts when you feel Johnny pull your panties to the side, his stubble rubbing along your inner thighs as his tongue takes a long, broad stroke up your cunt.

(Did I mention that he loves eating pussy?)

Your hand flies beneath the table, fingers settling within the tresses of his mohawk and tightening as your body jolts. You have to press your lips together, holding back a soft whimper that threatens to fall out at the way he seems to savor having you on his tongue.

And it suddenly strikes you that, actually...this might not a good idea after all.

"W-Wait—"

But Johnny doesn't wait. He doesn't listen.

He presses his face between your thighs, his tongue worshiping your flesh as you try your level best to remain as calm and collected as possible. Only, of course, now is when your waiter decides to come to your table.

"Ah, did the gentleman step out for a moment? Should I wait, or would you like to order for him?"

You freeze.

How the fuck are you supposed to answer that?

This is a first fucking date.

You definitely don't know him well enough to order for him. But to wait? That's not likely either.

"I'll...I'll order—"You press your lips together and tighten your thighs around Johnny's head as he starts sucking on your clit, causing you to full body flinch.

The waiter looks at you, a startled expression coloring his features just as a wave of shame courses through your veins. “Sorry….”You mumble, pinching Johnny beneath the table.

He apologizes with a kiss to your clit.

“I’ll have the chicken pasta, and he’ll have the roasted salmon with the white rice. Please.”You order quickly, trying to sound as polite as possible. More and more, this is seeming to have been a really bad a idea.

"Right, well then I'll have those out for the two of you as soon as I can."

You try to breathe a sigh of relief when the waiter leaves your table, but aren't even afforded the option. Not when Johnny is yanking your panties even further to the side. "Yer a fuckin delight, love."He mutters gravelly from between your thighs.

He sounds almost...feral.

Like an animal.

Another shiver runs down your spine and you shift your hips, pulling back. Your heart is hammering in your chest and with how intense this is getting, you're not sure you can keep a handle on yourself if things continue.

Besides, you're sure that you have more than embarrassed yourself for one evening.

This is only a first date, you can save some room to embarrass yourself more for another time—for another date.

But then Johnny's large hands grip your hips, forcefully pulling you closer to the edge of your seat almost greedily—hungrily. "Donnae run away from me."He says to you, and with him being hidden under the table it is almost an ominous threat of sorts. A deep, raspy voice not asking but commanding you to not move.

Johnny's lips close around your sensitive clit—sucking on it with an unforgiving intensity as he holds you in place. He's determined to make you cum. Right here. Right in this restaurant.

Once again your thighs clamp around his head, but if he's bothered about that then he makes no indication about it. He doesn't even flinch.

You try to say something—anything—but the words are lost on you when his tongue starts flicking your clit.

The sound you let out is just barely muffled by the sound your free hand makes as you accidentally slam it onto the table. A couple sitting at a table near yours looks over, shooting curious inquisitive gazes your way.

"S-Sorry..."You whimper, your thighs trembling and your hips twitching just beneath the table and out of their view.

Thankfully your slumped demeanor and shaky voice lend themselves more to seemingly like a jilted date than a frisky exhibitionist, so they only send you pitying glances and then turn away. Which you appreciate because, the very moment they turn away, you slump over onto the table.

One arm cushions your forehead while other grips Johnny's hair tightly, perhaps too tightly. But you can't be bothered to care. Not when he's slipping one of his finger's into your messy cunt as he continues his dedicated assault.

"F-Fuck,"Quietly falls from your lips, not being able to contain yourself so well anymore. "So good. So fucking good, I—"

The way he switches between sucking on your clit and licking it is making your head spin, and with his finger fucking into you slow but deep it's getting harder and harder to think.

"J-Johnny..."

Your entire body is buzzing at this point. You squeeze your eyes shut, but that's a mistake. Because now all you can focus on is his touch. How he is making you feel. The way his mouth is worshiping your pussy like its his sole reason for breathing.

He slips a second finger inside of you, slowly and gingerly—careful to help you accommodate to the stretch. That delicious fucking stretch of his long yet thick fingers. Nimble and fucking skillful.

Your nails are basically digging into his scalp at this point, but it's either that or you rut into him like the bitch in heat that you currently are.

But if you do that, you two will be found out.

Your cover blown.

Which might just be the Scotsman's desired outcome, given how he ditches the slow and savoring rhythm he'd granted you and instead starts finger fucking you faster now.

Heat pulses in your veins as a familiar tingling sensation begins to rise from inside of you. Your toes begin to curl in your heels and you press your lips together. Hard. If you don't, moans far too loud for propriety's sake will come spilling out.

It is as though your head is swimming—thoughts drifting away as you will yourself to muffle every whimper and mewl that battles against your quivering lips.

You want to warn Johnny. Really, you do.

You want to tell him that you're about to cum.

But how can you?

If you open your mouth, it's over for you. For the both of you.

So, instead, your shaky fingers tap on his forehead as best as they can. And you think, maybe he's gotten the message. Maybe...if his doubled efforts are anything to go by.

Warmth washes over your body and tingles take over your lower limbs, slowly spreading to the rest of your body as he continues to finger fuck you. His mouth is seemingly permanently attached to your cunt, the Scotsman determined to gorge himself on you.

But then his tongue does a thing and his finger curl just right, hitting you deep inside.

It's too much.

Too fucking much.

Your entire body stiffens, stomach muscles clenching as your pussy pulses and clenches around his thrusting fingers and onto his sinful tongue. Your thighs tremble as your legs wrap around his muscular torso—so caught in the throes of passion that you unintentionally trapping him in your hold as you ride out your wave of pleasure.

(I did mention that he loves eating pussy...right?)

Honestly, you're not too sure how you two don't get caught.

You're not too sure how he didn't get caught sneaking under the table and you're not too sure how he doesn't get caught get out from under it now, either. But he doesn't.

Still slumped over the table, you're slowly coming back to your senses.

Johnny has moved to sit beside you and is rubbing your back and shoulders soothingly.

"Ye did so well, bonnie. Am sure naebody suspected a thin'."He praises, his hand rubbing gentle circles into your still trembling thigh.

You don't speak. Don't even pick up your head. You don't trust your voice quite yet. But, of course, now is when your waiter comes back with your food.

You hear the plates land gently on the cloth covered table and then nothing. There's a pregnant pause and you assume that the waiter has left, then there is a throat being cleared.

"Is...uh...is your companion alright, sir?"

"Aye, tha missus is fine."Johnny replies coolly, his hand as gentle and calming as ever. "Just a wee bit under tha weather. We'll actually take this tae go lad. Thank ye."

Once your waiter leaves, you lift your head and Johnny immediately hands you your glass of water and urges you to drink it.

You try to set it aside, but he won't let you—kindly yet firmly redirects the glass back to your hand. And this time, you do finally accept the water and drink a few meaningful sips.

"Good girl,"He murmurs, patting your now calmed knee. "Feelin' be'er?"

"I...well, yes. But..."You're at a loss for words. What are you supposed to say. How are you supposed to continue your date after that? "I just can't believe we did that..."

Johnny nods, a hint of a smirk on his lips. And as his expression shifts you can see a bit of sheen on his face.

Clearly, as you'd still been slumped over, he must have wiped his face with napkin. Not well enough, though. Not when there's remnants still glistening on his chin.

"Whot? Is somethin' on ma face?"He asks, his thumb brushing away your cream from the spot your gaze had zeroed in on.

And you watch in rapt attention as the motherfucker sucks it off of his goddamned finger.

"Well, ah cannae say ah regret it."He replies to you, his smirk becoming larger now. "Besides, ah figured ah only got one shot fer a good impression. Wanted tae make it count."

Your waiter comes back once more, this time with your packaged meals. Before you can even think about the bill, the waiter is sliding Johnny back his card—clearly indicating that the meal has already been paid for in full by the sergeant himself.

Not that he makes a big deal about it.

Not that he makes you feel like you owe him for it.

For any of it, actually.

He stands, grabbing both ornate takeout bags in one hand and extends the other for you to hold. "C'mon bonnie, let's get ye home."

Go home?

While you're busy wondering what he could possibly mean by that, Johnny chuckles and pulls your chair out some before extending his hand out to you once more.

"Amnae pig, bonnie. Real class, ah am. Ah'll drop ye off and let ye rest. Ye can call me when yer ready. Tomorrow. Tha day after. So on. And we can plan our next date then."

His words calm your racing thoughts enough for you to take his hand, walking with him out of the restaurant. Although...well, you certainly make it a point to not look back at the wet spot you've undoubtedly left on the chair.

"You seem confident I'll call you for a second date."You reply, giving him a side eyed glance as you step out into the evening air and he places his coat jacket over your shoulders.

Johnny looks at you and this time his expression is somewhere between a smirk and a smile—his blue eyes gleaming with a charming sense of mischief.

"Am quite confident in ma first impressions, bonnie."

—————————————

.....Is this anything? Lmao, I hope this didn't suck. It's been so long since I've written smut. So long since I've written full smut. Don't jump me! I hope this is what you were hoping for >_< if not, let me know and I can try again!

Also? Any grammar errors are totally between y'all and whatever creator you believe in. I did my best. I didn't proofread this frfr because...well, I never do. Never have. Probs never will. Never did in my wattpad days. Never have in all of my academia days either. With the power of big breasted men with juicy balls, em dashes, and dominant women on my side, it's me against the world! Grammatical errors fear me!!!

BTW! If you also just have any Qs regarding my thought process for this or for any of my blurbs/posts/whatevers you can always send an ask :D as long as you're respectful I am too. I promise I don't bite

[cottonconnielvr]

Okay so, we’re obviously Connie’s very spoiled girlfriend

Reader had eyes on this really expensive bag that she’s been dying to have. She asked Plug!Connie and he has the audacity to tell us no, just to see how we’d react. Reader starts having a really nasty bratty attitude for a week and now daddy gotta set us straight 🫣

WARNINGS ✩ — squirting, smoking, sloppy messy blowjob, reader calls con daddy, reader is sensitive emotionally,rough sex, crying, handjob,overstimulation + just nasty stuff (may b a couple mistakes bc i didnt feel like re-reading imma do it later tho😭)

JEAN passed the blunt over to Connie, slightly shaking from coughing. Connie, who was sitting on Eren’s couch, shook his head as he scrolled through your ig story. “Swear this lil girl want me to fuck her shit up,” Connie mumbled as he hit the blunt.

Eren laughed from the floor, sitting in a bean bag. “What she do now?”

“She got a lil attitude with me because I told her not to let her fucking demon dog in the room anymore. So now she posting shit she know will make me mad” Connie passed his phone to Eren, letting him look at your story.

“You spoil that girl wayyy too much anyway,” Jean added.

“What you mean?” Connie asked with an attitude.

“She never listen to your ass because you say yes to everything she says. She literally gets whatever she wants from you.” Connie fights the urge to defend his spoiled princess but, Jean was making a point.

“I mean he did kinda do it to himself, not her” Eren passed the blunt to Jean.

“Bro you’re her bitch” Jean says in disbelief. “Shut yo long headed ass up. I am not her bitch” Connie defends himself, although a part of him agreed with Jean. Connie never really did put you in check unless it ended with angry sex. He was never super stern with, just letting you get by with everything.

But that was the way it was supposed to be. You were his spoiled little princess who always got what she wanted because she deserves it more than anyone.

“Just tell her no to see how she reacts”

Connie doesn’t give an answer, just contemplating on it.

“Ight”

“Isn’t she gorgeous baby just look” You practically shove your phone in Connie’s face. Connie looks at the pink purse. “I’ve been obsessing so bad and I neeedd it, please” Your glossy lips pout as you beg.

Connie furrowed his eyebrows, “Mhmm no I think you’re good.” You jerk your head back, trying to process that word, No.

You don’t have a great history with the word no.

“No y/n you can’t have this”

“No y/n you can’t have that”

Why would anyone deny you anything?

“What? Why! What did I do? Why not!?” You whined feeling the need to cry.

“You don’t exactly deserve it. You haven’t been good”Connie fought the urge to smile at you, such a crybaby. “What!? Baby I have what are you talking about?” You sat up, sitting on Connie’s lap.

“Your instagram stories, you keep going to parties I tell you not to go to. You needa get your act together” You gasped, offended that he was acting so nonchalant. He was basically telling you that he didn’t love you anymore.

“So until you fix your attitude then maybe, you can get it” Connie practically brushed you off and reached for his blunt. You sat there frozen for a minute, feeling betrayed and heartbroken.

“Okay Connie.” You said in a monotone voice before getting off of Connie and walking out of the room.

The rest of the week has been hell for Connie.

You had one of the worst attitudes ever, giving Connie silent treatment, short answers, and no sex.Were you trying to kill him?

In your point of view, you weren’t gonna stop until he apologized ( with an apology gift to go with ).

Connie walked in the house, hearing you blast “Me, Myself, and I” by Beyonce. Connie shook his head, obviously understanding the message.

“Baby!” Connie yelled from downstairs.

Meanwhile you sat at your vanity, fixing your hair. Connie opened the door to your beauty room, “You ain hear me calling you?” He asked while squinting his eyes at you. “I guess not.” Connie watched as you rolled your eyes.

Connie leaned on the door, poking his tongue against his cheek. “What’s yo problem?” He finally asked.

You stayed silent.

“I’m talking to you, Y/N.” Connie said sternly.

“Nothing Connie” You stood up, fully showcasing your tight outfit.

“ where you goin” Connie looked you up and down, ignoring his boner and licking his lips.

You were wearing a tight denim mini skirt with baby tee, showing your boobs practically poking out the top. “Just going out” You grabbed your purse which Connie recognized it as a new one.

You had to buy it yourself since no charges came from Connie’s card and you’ve been avoiding him like crazy. Connie knew you were really mad if you start paying for your own stuff. You walked passed him, purposely hitting him with your purse and a small oops leaving your mouth.

Connie just smiled to himself, shaking his head. You were gonna sleep really good tonight.

“What I tell you about walking away from me mama?” Connie followed you to the living room. You didn’t answer, walking to the front door.

You stood a little shocked as Connie sat on the couch. He got pretty comfortable, reaching for his phone out of his pocket.

Just as you reached for the lock, “Y/N come sit down with me”

Your legs practically went numb as you heard the tone in Connie’s voice. He sounded very very stern which meant he was not in the mood to be fucked with.

Your boldness melted away. Your head immediately went down, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

You sat in the loveseat across from Connie, messing with your fishnets. “I said come sit with me Y/N” You didn’t hesitate to move the second he said your name.

Yeah he was pissed.

You walked over to Connie, his hand grabbing yours as he pulls you on his lap. You land on Connie’s muscular thigh, his hand immediately going to your inner thigh.

His touch felt good, your attention now focused on the feeling. His tatted fingers massaging your inner thigh.

“What’s yo problem? Didn’t even care to ask me how my day was,” Connie looked up at you as you stayed silent. A pinch was sent to your inner thigh, making you jump.

“I don’t have a problem Connie. I was just trying to have fun”

“Why you lying to me Y/N” Connie grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“You just made me upset and I-I just really wanted the bag” Connie’s thumb wiped against your bottom lip, smearing your lip gloss.

“Instead of acting like a brat you should’ve told me that you were upset. I thought we agreed to talk like adults whenever we feel upset with eachother, not do this petty ass silent treatment shit.”

“I’m sorry Con” Your voice small and quiet out of guiltiness.

“I don’t believe you ma” Connie leaned back on the couch, removing his hands from your body.

You whined, missing his touch after you ignored him for days. “I really am daddy”

Connie almost folded at the pet name, fighting the urge to pound you into the couch until your makeup comes off but that could wait. He wanted to make you beg a little longer.

“I don’t believe you. Gonna show me how sorry you are hm?” You quickly nodded, taking place between his spread legs. Your hands immediately went for the band of his sweatpants, tugging them down with eagerness. Connie lifted up his hips, letting you pull down his boxers as well. His cock springing up against his stomach ( his name ain’t connie springer for no reasonnnn)

Your tongue ran up his balls, going all the way up to the tip. “Fuck” Connie mumbled to himself, it’s felt like forever since you’ve gave him a blowjob.

You hollowed your cheeks as you took him down to the base. You flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock, feeling him stuff your throat.

Your hands rested on the floor besides your knees, stabling yourself as you tried to breathe through your nose.

You gagged once you felt Connie buck his hips upwards. Connie’s hands went to your head, keeping you in place.

Your nose was flush against his lower stomach. Connie thrusted up into your mouth, groaning to himself. The more he looked down at you, the angrier he got.

How dare you ignore him and keep this pretty little mouth away from him. You could feel your scalp become sore from the deadly grip Connie had on it.

The sloppy sound of your gags and the wetness of your mouth filled the living room. The scene was so nasty and filthy, your saliva leaking all around Connie’s cock and your mouth.

Your hands tapped at Connie’s thighs. Connie lifted your head up, letting you breathe. Strings of spit connected from your mouth to Connie’s cock, making him groan.

You panted, feeling your sticky lip gloss all over your mouth.

“Stick your tongue out” Connie slowly stroked himself. You stuck your tongue out. Connie slapped his dick around your tongue, making your saliva drip down to your boobs. Connie rubbed his dick all over your lips before bringing it down to your chest.

“F-fuck” Connie moaned deeply. Your eyes watered, feeling so humiliated and used.

“You sorry baby?” Connie asked, slapping your wet cheek. A tear ran down your cheek, running black with your mascara. “Y-yes” You whimpered. Your hands twisted up and down his cock.

“ Gonna b-be g..good for me hm?” You stuck your tongue out, looking up at Connie. You watched as Connie pushed out a glob of spit, it landing on your tongue. You swallowed, Connie slapping your cheek once again. “Look at me ma” Your eyes locked with Connie’s before he pushed your head down on his dick again, moving your head up and down. You moaned lightly, causing a vibration to run through connie’s cock. “Make me c-c..ah..cum” Connie hissed, feeling your take him so deep. Connie could feel his stomach tightening , toes curling, and thighs clenching. “F-fuck baby” Connie pulled out of your mouth, ribbons of white cum squirting in your face. Connie winced as he rubbed his cum into your face with his tip, smearing it all over your lips (since you like lip gloss so much)

Your mascara ran down your face, making you look an absolute mess. a beautiful mess

“f-fuckfuckfuck m’sorry! i-im sorry daddy, i’m s-s..i’m so sorry” Your muffled cries fell on deaf ears, Connie continuing his brutal thrusts. He was fucking you so so so hard.

It hurt so bad but felt so good. Your legs went numb rounds ago and your body was a mess, covered in your own fluids mixed with Connie’s.

Your mouth was open, sending your screams into the silk white pillow. Connie hovered above you, holding onto the headboard as he slammed his hips into you. “F-fuck cum again” Connie ordered you, reaching between your legs to rub your swollen clit.

“I-i can’t-” You gasped out, on the verge of passing out. You gripped onto the cold pillows, trying to pull yourself up and away from his torture. Connie took notice of this and wrapped his hand around your throat, pulling you back.

“You are.” You heard Connie sternly mutter.

You whined, your hand reaching behind you to push Connie away only for Connie to grab both of your hands. He pinned them down on the deep arch in your back, absolutely churning your insides.

“I-i..i promise pa- m’not go..gonna act up anymore” You cried out, loosing all of your body strength.

You body physically went numb altogether, a rush of pleasure washes over you. Your legs shook violently. You let out a scream that you were not aware of, clenching hard on Connie’s cock.

“S-shit” Connie looked down, seeing you wet up his lower body

(“they told me to stay out that water park😔” - future baby daddy connie with his five kids tackling him)

The pressure pushed Connie’s cock out of you, causing him to paint your ass with white ribbons.

Connie took a moment to breathe before he moved from above you, your breathing was now steady and you laid flush into the bed.

Connie squinted his eyes, slowly turning your face. No way this girl is sleep right now I ain done

“Baby...Baby…..Baby” Connie shook your body, waking you up. You whined, going right back to that bratty attitude that Connie loved oh so much.

“Whattt” You were so exhausted, moving was not an option right now.

After a much needed bath, you fell right asleep with just a bra and panties on. You were knocked out, sleeping all the way until 12 pm.

You woke up to just you in the bed, your house ringing silence. (Marshmallow is at a doggy hotel getting groomed #materialgworl💅) Instead of waking up to Connie’s presence you woke up to a box with a note on top of it.

‘Had to leave early and handle some business with Ony, I’ll be back before you know it. Thank me later sexy’

You sat the note aside before taking the top off of the pink box, only to see the very purse the got you in this situation to begin with.

[mysicklove]

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄

DAY 1 : PET PLAY

With: Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugou

Word Count: 5.0k

Warnings: sub! izuku and katsuki, gn! reader, collars/leashes, dog ears, reader forces katsuki to bark, reader is purposefully mean to izuku, mlm (they are forced to makeout), hand jobs, slight orgasm control, tons of sappy nicknames

A/N: hi guys!! welcome to day 1!! fun fact, this randomly got posted in the middle of the night some random day in september. fuck tumblr que, idk what happened. but here we are LOL

You'll never get used to it. Having two pro-heros as your dogs. Kneeling at your feet, only in their boxers, silently waiting for their owners command. It was a dopamine rush every time the three of you went into this headspace.

They both had on their designated personally designed collars. The sweet one had a red leather one, that complimented his pleading green eyes perfectly. The brat wore a light pink sparkly collar. He had fumed the first time he saw it, yelling at you to fuck off and refusing to put it on. But after you put a muzzle on him the rest of the night, he shut his mouth. He still gets pissed when you clip it on him, but instead grumbles to himself, not wanting to risk the horrible metal muzzle. Besides, he knows you only do it to get a rise out of him. So on most nights you gave him his usual black spiked collar. Obviously tonight you were feeling more teasing.

The muzzle and a gag lay next to you in case either of them decide to act out. Izuku of course wouldnt ever dare to purposely disobey in this mental state. But he had a huge problem of talking. Dogs arent supposed to talk, so next to you lays a cartoon bone shaped gag, waiting to be put into Izukus mouth. 

Tonight the two of them were leashed together, a pretty but simple black leash divided into two different clips. Their section was small, so the two of them were forced to sit shoulder to shoulder with one another to prevent pulling at the leather. 

They also wore their puppy ear headbands, just because you were feeling special today. Izuku has green floppy ears, and Katsuki, blonde pointy ones. You also had tails designed for them, but that would involve some…prepping. So the collars, ears, and leash were enough for today.

You sit on the bed, crossed legs, with you wrapped around the end of the leash. You give it a hesitant tug and the two of them collapse forward, Izuku with a small whine and Katsuki with a glare, immediately bringing himself back onto his knees, pulling Izuku with him.

You reach forward to pat the both of them on the head. Izuku preens, looking down with clenched fist and a blushing smile. Katsuki looks away with a huff, but you know thats the best you'll get out of him. 

“Look at my boys,” You coo, “You guys are so precious.” You gently pull the leash upward so that the two of them are forced to look up at you.

Izuku beams at you, feeling himself buzz from the praise. “Thank you, Y/N! I want to be good for you today! Even Kacchan says he does too–” You give him a sickly sweet smile, nodding your head and humming at him. He is completely unaware of you trailing your hand toward the gag, waiting for him to finish his rambling so you can shove it on him. 

Katsuki’s eyes flicker to your hands immediately and his eyes widen. It doesn't take much for him to realize his situation. The two of them are tied together. That definitely means something, and Izuku hasn't seemed to realize it yet. 

The two of them were in this together. If Izuku gets punished, the chances of the metal muzzle coming on are high. “We will be your good-”

Katsuki flings his hand over the others mouth, the force of it pushing Izuku over. The blonde topples forward with him, from the short binding leather. Izuku lands on his back and Katsuki lands on top of him with a groan.

You laugh hysterically and the boys both flush in embarrassment, making eye contact with eachother. Katsuki quickly pulls himself up and Izuku is forced to follow – not that he minded. They sit back on their knees both red in the face, looking at the ground, too embarrassed to look at eachother. 

You pat the blondes hair, and he gulps. “Good boy, Katsuki! Poor Izu almost got gagged, that would be too bad, right puppy?” You smile, turning your gaze to the freckled boy who is nodding his head frantically, hating the gag as much as Katsuki hates the muzzle. It makes his jaw hurt, and the drool is humiliating.

You continue to run your fingers through Katsukis hair as a reward and he unconscioully leans into the touch, still unused to the praise. “I guess we don't need a muzzle today either!” Red eyes widen and he tries not to seem to excited at the thought. He gulps, and looks away, clenching at the thin fabric that fails to cover his leaking cock. You chuckle at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his temple. Izukus eyes flicker to you, clutching his fist to hide his obvious jealousy of the affection.

“What should I do with the two of you?” You hum, admiring the leash in your hand. The boys gulp, and Izuku wants nothing more than to speak, so he bites his tongue to keep himself silent. Katsuki grows weary, wondering what type of mood you were in today.

“Should I make the two of you fuck eachother?” Izuku whines, leaning forward to rest his head on your knee, to wordlessly show his disapproval. You chuckle and bring your hand to his curly green hair, and notice that Katsuki is scowling at you, having the same view. 

You know they prefer it when you are involved. They always complain its not as fun without you, and besides who would give them orders? What will two dogs do without a owner to command them?

“Alright, I've got an idea.” They peer up at you, Izuku still in your lap. “We are going to do some training!” They both flinch, eyes flickering to each other in a silent agreement. This will most likely be something not so pleasant. “I was thinking we try some obedience exercises? C'mere get on the bed you two.”

Katsuki begins to stand and you yank the leash forward, causing the both of them to fall over, foreheads resting next to the carpet. “I don't remember dogs standing.” The blonde fumes, trying not to yell at you. He hates being dragged around.

Izuku paws at the edge of the bed, glancing back at Katsuki to follow. He rolls his eyes with a grumble, but follows behind, on his hands and knees as well. Izuku sits so close to you, that he is practically in your lap. He seems to be vibrating with excitement, hoping you will be kind to him today. You rub his cheek, and he beams for you, nuzzling into your hand.

Katsuki, dramatically, sits as far away as he can, which isnt far due to the leash attached to Izuku. You smile at him at he gulps. “C'mere Kats,” You say, patting your lap.

He nods hesitantly, and climbs into your lap, looking away when you kiss his cheek. Izuku lets out a small whine and rests his hand on your thigh, obviously jealous of the positioning. “We are gonna play a little game.” Red eyes catch yours. “I am going to give out an order and the both of you are to follow them. Easy right?” 

Katsuki pauses for a second. Following commands was what he struggled with the most. His pride always got the better of him. He gulps, but nods.

Izuku on the other hand, is nodding his head with a grin. This was easy for him, and he was always happy to please you. Just a couple of orders and then you will get to touch him. He could do that with his eyes closed. 

“Good boys! Now paw.” You set the leash down and hold out both of your hands flat. Izuku rests his hand in yours in an instant, leaning in closer to hopefully get praised. Katsuki glances at you, and then the hand, and silently places his open hand on yours. He looks away while doing it, slightly embarrassed. 

“Good job Katsuki!” You praise, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He grumbles under his breath, but the tips of his ears go pink. Izuku leans forward and waits for you to kiss his own cheek, but you don't make an effort to look at him. He whines for it, and you glance at him, a malicious smile on your face. “Dont be spoiled Izuku,” You coo, pickingup the leash and gently pulling on it, causing the both of them to lean closer.

Izuku slightly pouts, but nods. Katsuki feels uneasy; Izuku always gets praised. Something was going on. 

“Alright. Now kiss.” In an instant Izuku is pouncing on the other, and Katsuki topples over at the force of the movement. He lets out an annoyed groan when Izuku's lips lock desperately with his. Izuku on the other hand is moaning into it, slightly dramaticizing the sound to hopefully coax something out of you. 

You sit and watch, trying to not laugh at how different the two are in this situation. Izuku seems to be suffocating Katsuki with his tongue, while the blonde is pushing on his chest to force him off. “Alright, enough,” You command, and just like that, Izuku is pulling away, grabbing Katsuki by his collar, and pulling him up with him.

Izuku this time crawls into your lap, practically purring from how content he feels in the position. But to his dismay, you shoo him off, pushing at his chest with a stern glare. “Did I say you can sit there, dog?”

He gulps, hands trembling, and surprised at your tone. Not only that, but you called him, dog. Not puppy, or sweet boy, his usual nicknames that you give him. Did he do something bad?

Katsuki glances at him, kinda feeling a bit bad for him, but not bad enough to say anything. He feels your hand grab at his collar, and force him forward until he is in your lap again, your hand petting his hair. He peesr back at Izuku who was dragged forward, and looking up at Katsuki with hurt eyes. Jealousy, most likely, and maybe confusion of why the blonde gets to sit there and not him. 

“Speak, Puppy,” You demand, tapping on Katsukis jaw. 

Izuku makes a frantic woofing noise, loud enough that your eyes trail to him. The scarred hand is back on your thigh, and big green eyes peer up at you. Your facial expression doesn't change, but your words cut him like ice. “I didn't ask you to bark, mutt.” You turn back to Katsuki, ignoring the pleading stare from your right. “Speak, Katsuki.”

Bakugou pauses, his face flushed in embarrassment. This is where things got tricky. He would rather die than do something so humiliating. It was one thing to put the ears on and “look” like a dog, but to act like one is some sort of degrading thing. His pride would never let him do something as pathetic as that.

He scowls at his hands, avoiding the burning gaze on the back of his neck. You hum at him, grabbing his chin, and forcing him to look at you. “Katsukiiii,” You purr, hoping to encourage him. 

He shakes his head, huffing out, and ignoring your words. The force of your hands on his jaw gets rougher, and the blonde knows you are beginning to lose patience. He can see Izuku begin to squirm uncomfortably, waiting for him.

Your eyes peer into his, and your words come out slow, every syllable seeming to have a command behind it. “C’mon puppy,” You murmur, “bark for me.”

A couple seconds go by and he doesn't make a noise. You sigh and let go of his chin. “Well, I guess nobody gets to cum tonight. How sad, I was so excited to play with you guys.” 

Izuku grabs onto Katsuki frantically, eyes wide and pleading. He has been waiting for this all week, no way was he willing to give it up for his childhood friend's pride. They were being treated like dogs for god sake, the first step was giving up your ego for pleasure.

The blonde glares at Izuku, but then glances at you, who is beginning to reach forward and take off his collar. You were being serious, and that fact sent shivers down his spine.

“W-Woof?” 

It's quiet, meek and nervous. Izuku covers his mouth to hold back a giggle, watching the other turn a bright shade of pink. “Louder,” You encourage, resting your head in the palm of your hand, growing more and more entertained by the second.

“Woof. Woof,” He tries, but it sounds more robotic, than dog like. He grips at his boxers, and can feel tears of humiliation prick at his eyes. 

“Relax, Kats. What do dogs sound like?” You whisper, petting his head, and trying to hold back a coo, because of how tense he looks.

Izuku inches forward to the blonde, nodding at him when the two make eye contact. Katsuki gulps, and takes a deep breath. “Arf! Woof! Woof! Ruff?” 

You begin to laugh, and Katsuki wants to curl up in a ball and die. He feels Izuku's hand on hisback, patting it encouragingly, but he doesn't have enough energy to bite back at him. So he lets the green haired boy continue, waiting for your giggling to stop.

You pull at the leash, and the two come forward, looking at you. You dont spare Izuku a glance, focusing solely on Katsuki. “Good boy! You did so well for me!” You praise, giving him a peck on his mouth and ruffling his hair affectionately.

He tries not to let the praise get to him, but the tint of his cheeks say otherwise. “F-Fuck you,” Katsuki mumbles, gripping at your thigh. 

Izuku's eyes widen at the spoken words, and his eyes immediately flicker to the gag and muzzle. He also grabs onto your leg, hoping you wont use them. “Ah ah ah,” You tutt, “You know puppies dont speak. I'll forgive it just this once since you are doing so good for me.”

He nods, trying not to roll his eyes. “Now, lets get to the fun stuff. Katsuki definitely deserves a reward for passing his training! Right, Izuku?”

Whenever this is going, Izuku seems to not be involved. He gives you a sheepish glance, clinging closer to you. He was listening to, why isn't he getting a reward? And it didn't make sense, why were you calling him a mutt and dog, just previous to this. Katsuki was the one to get the harsh treatment by you due to his bratty nature, but Izuku didn't do anything wrong.

Red eyes meet green, and Izuku pauses. Then he sighs, and turns to you, nodding meekly. You barely look at him, but smile. “Now, lets get these off of you sweet boy,” You murmur, grabbing onto his boxers and beginning to pull them down. Katsukis eyes slightly widen, but he allows you to, jumping when the cool air kisses his skin.

Izuku stares from the spot behind the two. Watching the way Bakugou's boxers get tossed aside, and how your hand moves onto his thigh. But the only thought that was repeating in his head, was the name you called him. Sweet boy.

It was his. You have never called Katsuki that, because Katsuki isn't sweet. He isn't the docile and obedient one, the sweet one. Why are you calling Katsuki by his named? It didn't make any sense, and Izuku felt himself bite the inside of his cheek.

“Cmon, show Izuku your pretty cock, Katsuki,” You tease, turning him around in your lap, so that his back is touching your chest. The two of them make eye contact, and Katsuki is the first to fume red, hiding his face into your neck while his cock stands proudly on display. Izuku whines, feeling his own pulse against the thin fabric of his briefs. 

Your hands travel to Katsukis dick, forming a makeshift hole, and beginning to stroke it up and down. “Lets test how trained you are Izuku.” He perks up at his name, practically vibrating that you finally acknowledged him. “No touching yourself till Katsuki cums. Easy right?” He pauses, frowning slightly. This is what he struggled with the most. How needy he gets.

It's not his fault, but the second he gets into bed with you or Katsuki, he just gets…excited. Constantly thinking about how quickly he can cum, and how many times he can go without falling asleep. His sex drive was high, although he gets too embarrassed to admit it. But you know him well enough by now.

“If you don't, the two of you dont get to cum for two weeks.”

Two pairs of eyes snap toward you in an instant. A threat like that would practically kill Izuku, and Katsuki also was not in favor of waiting that long. The two of them make a silent agreement, and Izuku slowly places his hands behind his back, clasping them together and waiting. If they dont stray from this position, it will be fine.

You grin at him, but then focus your attention on Katsuki. You open his thighs, slapping him gently when he tries to close them from embarrassment, to give Izuku a full view. One of your hand finds his nipples, and the other wraps around his cock.

Izuku stares at your slow, sensual movements. The way your hand pumps Bakugou, and the way the blonde lets out a shaky breath. He is still tense under Izuku's view, but Izuku assumed he would be. Katsuki got nervous being watched, and you liked to exploit that. You always teased him about how cute he was, even when the blonde scowled at you with a pink face.

Even now, Katsuki seemed to have a pinched brow. He glances at Midoriya, baring his teeth slightly, and then looking away. He probably didn't like how vulnerable he was right now. The only one naked, and getting touched. 

Izuku would kill to be in his position.

“There you go. Feeling better now, puppy?” You coo, pressing light kisses onto his neck. He seems to melt at the sweet words, hating how easy it was you to make his heartbeat to pick up. He nods slightly, and finally falls slump against your chest, trying his best to ignore Izuku's ruthless stare.

Your hand rubs over the head, thumbing at the slit, and then moves back down to pump him some more. Your other hand cups his balls, and begins to fondle them gently. His breath begins to pick up from the intense feelings, and his hips begin to rock into your hand. Katsuki’s eyes fall shut, and he rests the back of his head on your shoulder, slightiy tilting his head upward.

And as Katsuki finally begins to relax, Izuku finds himself growing uneasy. He gulps, and glances at his briefs, sighing when he sees the dampening spot from where his cock lay. He was too hard, and the boxers were making him uncomfortable. He wants them off.

But he is not willing to risk it. So he plays with his hands behind his back, and shutters whenever he hears Katsuki moan out. He inches closer to the two of you, just until his knee touches the blondes upper leg.

A drop of pre leaks from the blondes tip, and both Izuku and Katsuki make a noise. Katsuki a groan, and Izuku, a pained whine. He was unbelievably jealous, and every cell in his body screamed at him to touch himself. Make the pain go away. Bakugou gets to feel good, why cant he?

“F-Fuckkkk,” Katsuki groans out, and you laugh, and then tilt his head to to the side, and press your lips onto his. Izuku makes a choked yelp, eyes widening and hands coming undone to grip at your shirt. It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair. His cock was weeping by now, begging for any sort of touch, and it hurt.

But you didn't care, and the sloppy noises of you are Bakugou's lips together made him let out a shaky, hurt breath. Katsuki grabs onto the back of your neck, pulling your closer, and opening his mouth to slip his tongue in yours. The hand hasn't stopped its motions and Izuku can hear the slight whimpers the blonde unconsciously lets out. The whimpers that go straight to his trapped dick.

Izuku glances at you, and then his black briefs. You weren't looking, obviously very much distracted with Katsuki, and he could easily touch himself without you knowing. Just a graze of his palm, thats all he needed. Something to ease the intense discomfort. His hand inches from hid thigh, and closer to his cock.

But you seemed to read his mind, pulling away slightly, and peering back at him. Katsuki is panting, and moaning into your neck, while your eyes glance at the scarred hand. “Whatcha doing, mutt? Can't go a couple minutes without touching yourself? You are acting more like a bitch in heat, than a puppy. Isn't that right, Kats?”

Katsuki doesn't really seemed to care, just nodding slightly and bucking his hips into your closed palm. He was only thinking about his own pleasure, but he agrees anyways with a low groan.

Izukus eyes widen and he pulls his hand away in an instant, tears welling up from frustration and your words. He shakes his hand frantically, leaning in closer to hopefully convey how desperate he was. He didn't touch himself; he listened to you.

“No. Keep your hand there, dog,” You scold, and Izuku nods quickly, scrambling to place his hand back onto his thigh. Inches away from his dick. 

You nod, and then suddenly, without letting either of the boys know, push Katsuki onto Izuku. Not hard, just enough for the blonde to balance either arms on Izuku's shoulders. His frame casts a shadow on the freckled boy, and he looks up to see Katsukis flushed appearance staring down at him. His ruby eyes are widen slightly in shock, but his mouth is open, and he is panting.

But the worst thing about it all, was that Katsuki's bare cock was meerly inches from his. Your hand remains wrapped around it, and once situated, begins to pump again. It sends Katsuki groaning, and resting his head on Izuku's neck.

Izuku's hand twitches, and he bucks his hips up into the air, just centimeters from touching Katsuki. He feels a drop of pre hit his thigh, and he whimpers, closing his eyes to pretend it doesn't exist. It's not fair. Its not fair. Its not fair.

“Open your eyes Izuku. Look at how pretty Katsuki looks.”

He shakily nods, and tears begin to drip down his face. This was mean. Jacking Katsuki off basically inches away from his own throbbing cock. Izuku didnt deserve this. He knows he didnt deserve this.

He feels Katsukis hot breath on his neck, and he shivers. Green eyes dont leave the lewd sight in front of him, and he feels like he is going insane. His hands begins inches his way toward his bulge, and he gulps, shivering when it comes closer and closer to the spot that will make all the pain go away.

Katsuki, takes notice to this quickly, and pins the hand to his thigh before he could reach it. “Dont you fucking dare,” he hisses into Izukus ear, quite enough so that you dont hear. Red eyes glare up at him, and Izuku looks away.

He feels angry at Katsuki’s words. How mean he was being, when he was getting all the praise and touch. They are supposed to share you, how was this fair? “You don't understand what I'm going through,” Izuku mumbles back, his tearful eyes glaring at him.

“I fucking–” You cover his mouth before he could say anything. Katsukis lidded eyes sneer at him, but they seem to roll back when you thumb at his tip.

“Are you two fighting?” You question, gently squeezing the head a little too hard in warning. Katsuki lets out a whimper, and the both shake their heads frantically, slightly panicked on what you would do if you found out.

You hum, and continue your movements. The blonde sighs out, and you release your hold on his mouth. But, his hand continues to stay on top of Izuku’s, not letting him move.

Midoriya's hand twitches from beneath his, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels your hand on his leg. His eyes widen, and he shivers under the lightness of your touch. It barely grazes the surface, and it sends a lightly ticklish feeling up his spine. It was moving closer to his bulge, an obvious tease, and Izuku feels himself begin to pant. He wants to touch himself so badly. Tears continue to fall down, and he screws his eyes shut with a sniffle.

Katsuki on the other hand, seems to be in heaven. He has a slight grin on his face, and he's moaning out with every stroke. He is approaching his high in a matter of seconds. You take notice to the way his body begins to jerk, and the slight higher pitch in his moans. “Do you want to cum, Katsuki?”

He nods his head slowly, breathing into the crook of Izuku's neck, while the other trembles. “Then beg.”

He sighs, but then immediately begins his frantic words. “I need–” You send a slap to his thigh, and he yelps, turning back to you and scowling.

“Don't be a brat. Beg like a dog,” You scold, tone fierce toward him for the first time tonight. It surprises him, and your eyes travel down toward the leash, threatening to grab it if he doesn't abide.

But Bakugou was already at his limits. He was going to cum any minute now, so he doesn't care about his pride any longer. Tears begin to coat his own eyes, and he flushes with embarrassment. “Woof! Arf! Arf! Woof!! P-Please!”

A tear drop lands on Izuku's face, and his whole body tenses. Katsuki looked…so pretty like this. He needs to readjust his pants, he needs to take off some of the weight. He feels tight, sticky from the amount of pre trapped in the fabric with him. And the noises Katsuki is making, makes his head spin, and sweat bead at his temples.

“Of course Katsuki, good puppy, you can cum all you want.”

You grab onto his cock, and give it a couple more pumps, before directing it toward Izuku's crotch. Within seconds of your premission, Bakugou buries his teeth into Izuku's neck, and moans. Its loud, but muffled by the skin. His whole body trembles, and cum flies out and lands on top of Izuku’s boxers.

Midoriya heaves, eyes widening as he watches Katsuki. He shivers at the feeling of teeth in his neck, and holds back a cry. He feels a dampening feeling land on his clothed cock, and doesnt have to do much guessing what it is.

He glances at the pool of cum stuck on his boxers, and then back to you, and finally breaks down and sobs. “Please touch me! Woof! Woof! I cant–Arf! I'm going insane, owner, owner please please please!” He rambles, voice raw from his cries.. He continues to bark, mewl, make any sound to voice his desperation.

Katsuki comes down from his high when Izuku starts hiccuping. His mind is blank, but the sounds Izuku was making was pitiful, and it bugged him. He glances at you, and you nod. He slowly pulls away from the boy, and sits down next to him. He is exhausted, but very much content, basking in the post orgasm glow.

Then, you move toward Izuku, kissing his cheek while he sobs and pinches the skin of his thighs, probably trying to stop the urge from touching himself. You pet his head, stroking the fake ears, and run your finger under his collar. Then, you grab his hands and pull them away before he could hurt himself. He peers up at you, and sniffles, using the back of his hand to wipe the tears. “Did so well, sweet boy. I'm sorry, that was mean of me wasnt it? Do you want to cum?”

He lets out a meek, “Woof,” and cries into your neck, every part of his body shaking. He nods, and tears begin to stain your shirt. Even through it all, he played the role till the very end.

Your hand travels to the bulge, and he doesn't even get a moment to process it before he is cumming. His body shakes with tremors and he screams into your neck. Katsuki watches with wide eyes as Izuku stains his pants.

It's like you knew this was going to happen. You play with his hair and coo at him, and then turn to motion Katsuki forward. He stares at the trembling boy, but abides, resting his hands on your thigh. Izuku slumps onto you, hiccuping from his sobs, but finally looking content. He buries his face into your neck, practically wagging his tail.

You pat the both of them on the head. “Good job, my adorable little puppies. Now was that so hard?”

They both look up at you, and give you the most pathetic but meaningful glare two dogs could give you.

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[ataliagold]

I Want Ours To Be An Endless Song

For @astrangersummer week 12 prompt 'not-date.' Title from Love Like Ghosts by Lord Huron.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1245

Tags: Post Series 4, Everyone Lives, Eddie's in love with Steve, Steve loves him back but Eddie's a bit oblivious, fluff, first date, summer, picnic, first kiss, getting together

Summary: Eddie's been trying for months to keep his feelings for Steve in check. But unbeknownst to Eddie, Steve's taken him on a date.

___

It’s not a date, Eddie reminds himself for about the hundredth time that afternoon.

It’s just that the others must’ve cancelled, he figures. Robin and Nancy, because they definitely would’ve been asked too, maybe even Jonathan and Argyle, but it’s summer, people have other plans, the others just…must not have been available.

He tells himself this firmly as he follows Steve on the little path through the woods to the edge of Lover’s Lake.

As Steve sets up the picnic blanket, Eddie repeats it to himself again. And while he puts the little basket down, while he pulls out baked goods and small sandwiches with the crusts cut off Eddie chews on his bottom lip and digs his nails into his palms because Steve’s so fucking perfect and Eddie would love more than anything for the two of them to be something more, for this picnic to be something other than just an outing of friends…

But Steve isn’t his, and this is not a date.

“Want a beer?” Steve asks, blinking up at Eddie.

“Uh…yeah,” Eddie wills himself to speak, to unfreeze, to act fucking normal.

He lowers himself onto the blanket next to Steve, looks out across the lake. It’s a hot day, barely a breeze to shift the muggy air around, and the lake is still and clear as glass. Eddie sneaks glances at Steve as he rifles around in the basket for the beers he’d stashed there earlier. Steve’s in a tank top and stupidly short shorts, and he’s all golden skin kissed with moles and cheeks slightly reddened from long days spent in the sun and Eddie wants to reach out and touch…

He swallows thickly instead. Takes the beer Steve’s holding out to him, sips at it, then again to give his mouth something to do so he doesn’t say something stupid…

“S’nice here, huh?” Steve comments, taking the lid off one of his containers and offering it to Eddie.

Eddie reaches in, pulls out a cookie, no doubt carefully baked by Steve the day before.

Why did he have to be so perfect?

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, clearing his throat. He flaps a hand towards the water. “Certainly nicer than when we were last here.”

Steve chuckles lightly, nods. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have to – they all know they’re remembering that time in the dark, in the cold; slimy tentacles and black depths and a gaping gate to hell.

They’ve come to the opposite side of the lake today, Eddie notices. As far away from…that spot as they can be. And everything looks different from this angle, like if he squinted they could be somewhere else entirely.

That had no doubt been intentional on Steve’s part, he supposes.

They eat in silence for a short time, until Eddie can’t bear it anymore – he never was very good at keeping his mouth shut.

“A shame Buckley and the others couldn’t make it,” he says through a mouthful of bread.

Steve frowns, a flicker of confusion passing over his face. “Huh?”

“Buckley,” Eddie repeats, swallowing before he was quite ready to, wincing as the food hurt his throat going down. “And Nance, Jonathan and Argyle…were they busy or something? They would’ve liked this.”

Steve’s frown deepens. “I dunno, I didn’t…I didn’t ask them.”

What?

Eddie falters. Stutters around his sentence a bit. “You didn’t? I – I just…well, I thought…you and Robin do everything together and Nancy often tags along with her now and so I just figured you would’ve asked them at least, too.”

Steve’s brow unknits. He puts down his beer, turns to Eddie, sunlight dancing in his eyes.

Eddie’s heart thumps at the sight.

“Eds…I wanted to come here with you. Just you.”

“Why?” Eddie refuses to admit the way that word came out as a squeak.

Steve tilts his head, a small smile playing across his lips. “You don’t know?”

No, Eddie very much doesn’t, because he’s been refusing to let himself believe even for a moment that Steve is remotely interested in him for anything other than friendship because he’ll be let down, he’ll be so fucking disappointed when it turns out not to be true. So he’s been strict with himself, he’s told himself over and over that Steve doesn’t like him like that, has ignored the lingering looks from the other man and the soft touches to the back of his hand, to his shoulder, because Steve’s a touchy sort of guy, they don’t mean anything.

Eddie’s not in love with Steve Harrington, he’s told himself every single damn day for months now.

The truth is, he’d fallen ass over tit in love with the former King that fateful night in Reefer Rick’s boatshed.

“Eddie,” Steve continues softly, reaching cautiously for his hand, taking it gently.

Eddie lets him. Thinks he’d let this man do anything.

“I…I like you. All this -” Steve gestures around them, to the lake, to the picnic blanket, to the food he’d prepared, “ – you know this is…a date, right?”

Oh.

Oh.

“This is me trying to…woo you, or whatever, maybe it sounds stupid but I’ve only ever done this with girls and they always liked this sort of thing so I thought…well. Sorry. If it’s stupid. Or…” Steve waves a hand, drops his chin to his chest, cheeks flushed with something more than just the sun now. “We can go somewhere else, if you want. Or home. If you want to go home. I could drive you back -”

“No,” Eddie interrupts, perhaps a little too zealously because Steve snaps his mouth shut. “I didn’t…I didn’t know this was a date.”

Amusement dances across Steve’s face. “You didn’t think the picnic with just the two of us at Lover’s Lake of all places was a date?”

Eddie sniffs, because when it was put like that…

Steve laughs, shuffles closer to him. “Sorry, Eds. Maybe I should’ve just told you. I was nervous, ok?”

“You? Nervous? Because of a date?” Eddie splutters. “You’ve been on so many, you could like…tutor people on dating, and shit.” And that was…a little lame, but Eddie’s reeling here.

“But this is you,” Steve says quietly, and it’s so sincere that Eddie goes still, looks down at their joined hands. “It matters.”

Eddie breathes out. Looks up again, meets Steve’s eyes and goes warm all over because Steve’s gazing at him like he hung the moon or something.

He’d try, if Steve asked him to.

He let Steve bring a hand to his cheek. Let him guide him forward, until their noses brushed, until their lips pressed together, and then Eddie Munson was kissing Steve Harrington and stranger things had happened - the two of them were all too fucking aware of that, they were sitting on top of a nightmare realm for fuck’s sake.

But somehow the Upside Down had been easier for Eddie to wrap his head around than this.

Steve kisses him. Gently, with his hand tangled in Eddie’s curls, and Eddie thinks he could die here, on the shore of the lake that really had nearly killed them.

But then Steve’s pulling back a little, and Eddie remembers how to breathe, and he’s very much not dead, he’s alive and Steve’s smiling at him and Eddie feels like the luckiest man alive.

“You do that on every date, Stevie?” Eddie quips, but he’s panting a little, Steve having stolen the air from his lungs.

Steve grins. “Only the best ones.”

___

[luckyorchid]

What If’s

Summary: What if: What if questions were hypothetical questions with hypothetical answers. Everyone’s asked themselves this, everyone including Aventurine.

OR: Ratio knows about Aventurine’s secret relationship with you. Aventurine dissolves into an existential crisis and it’s all THE DOCTORS FAULT.

Tags: Implied hidden/fake relationship, Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild descriptions of violence, Existential Crisis, Ratio is Aventurine’s best friend kinda, Aventurine has ISSUES, Implied tall reader, a bit of a character study in a sense

A/N: Hello!! This is a short drabble/fic on my ongoing series “Time’s Backstage” posted on Ao3. For some context, Reader is a bartender and wagered Aventurine that they can show him love isn’t all that scary. Fake relationship essentially. Ensues the chaos and mess of feelings.

If you wanna check it out: https://archiveofourown.org/series/4312756

Word count: 1,475

Aventurine dreams

It seems counterproductive for him– naive, and don’t get him wrong– it is. For someone who’s supposed to be an IPC representative: dreaming didn’t have a place in his schedule, nor in the list of things he needs to do.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t in his list of things he wanted to do.

But who cares about that? He argues with himself every time; what was the point of dreaming? There was no undoing what’s happened, no undoing the pain he’s felt and the pain he’s caused others; no undoing the brand on his neck, the number 35 etched on his skin. Invisible, but he feels it–

Regardless, he dreams. What if.

What if questions were hypothetical questions with…hypothetical answers. Everyone’s asked themselves this, everyone including him. What if I chose this restaurant rather than the usual? What if I pretend to have a bad hand in this game? What if I drown out the screams of those slaves with my own so I wouldn’t have to hear the sick noises of bones shattering and blood splattering?

Perfectly normal questions to ask yourself.

The good doctor once told him, (and in fact, told him all the time), that what if’s, while interesting; would only make him spiral down that rabbit hole of self-deprecation. “Have you ever considered mulling over something productive instead?” Ratio would suggest, flipping through the pages of that owl-carved notebook.

Aventurine breaks out of his stupor, quickly smoothing his surprise. He sends the doctor a smile. “Productive? Doctor, I’ve been nothing but productive all day.”

The sun’s rays shine past his window, casting his office in an orange hue. His eyes flit to Ratio’s face, alabaster off. “In your head, dear gambler.” Ratio doesn’t look up. “Your thoughts are about as loud as a barn-owl’s screech, if you even know what that sounds like.”

Aventurine scoffs, crossing his arms. He leans over his desk, gaze growing sharper. “Then what would you suggest I think about, hm?”

Ratio shuts his book, sighing. “Starting off, what about that Bartender you’re seeing?”

Aventurine feels like he was just kicked in the stomach. Twice. Thrice.

No one else was supposed to know about that. He can feel his neck and face heat up, but he manages to choke out. “What?” He tries catching his blunder, masking his surprise with a laugh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, doctor–”

“Don’t play the idiot. To be frank, that role never suited you.” Ratio drawls, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice. “The tall one, yes? The one who’s been making you lunch boxes?”

Fuck. Aventurine’s face was burning at this point. “I thought I hid them well.” He grunts out and tussles his own hair. Ratio raises a brow. “You’re lucky nobody else cares enough to pry or perceive further.” He leans against the couch, flicking his book back open. “Then again, luck is your gift.”

Aventurine rolls his eyes and smirks, before slumping against his seat. Silence fills the room, and he finally adds; “I taught them Avgin.”

That catches Ratio’s attention. “...Your mother tongue?”

“Yeah. Well, we haven’t exactly been able to practice in a while, now that I mention it–”

Aventurine’s nervous rambling dies down as those amber eyes look at him again. It’s heavier, and his breath starts to pick up. Ratio didn’t need to look at him like that; like what he’s done was a mistake. He knows it is, he knows it’s a mistake to open to someone who shouldn’t be involved with the IPC– with him in the first place.

Before Ratio could ask another question from that frustratingly smart-ass mouth, the clock hits 5, marking the end of his shift. “Would you look at that?” Aventurine kicks off his chair, fixing his vest. Ratio watches him with a frown. Aventurine recognizes it; it wasn’t one of frustration, rather one of curiosity.

“And your thoughts my friend,” Aventurine says as he places a hand on Ratio’s shoulder. “Are as loud as a roulette wheel, if you even know what that sounds like.”

Ratio shrugs his hand off with a huff. “Touché.”

Aventurine leaves his office and clocks out, all the while screaming in his head to drown out the harsh beats of his heart.

–

Kakavasha dreams.

It wasn’t counterproductive, as Kakavasha was no IPC representative and had no burdens. He was merely a boy blessed by Gaiathra, embroidering clothes with his sister and playing in golden sands, praying every night for fortune to his family and clan.

Dreaming was easier this way. What if.

What if questions were hypothetical questions with hypothetical answers. Everyone’s asked themselves this, everyone including him. What if I used a different technique in weaving this basket? What if I prayed somewhere else? Will it make my prayers come faster? What if I ran faster? Faster so I wouldn’t have to hear the screams of my sister and clan as they get ravaged by fire and Katicans–

He takes a breath. Aventurine– Kakavasha dreams.

He dreams that his mother and his father are still alive, caring for him and his sister. His father would take them every morning to a small temple, offering gifts. His mother would teach them to cook and embroider, and his sister would finally have the childhood that was stolen from her.

He dreams that the IPC did come to aid the Avgins against the Katicans. He dreams that Sigonia was able to experience what Jelena’s– Topaz’s planet got; becoming lush with grass, trees, and flowers. He would pick a pretty one, happily place it on his sister’s ear, and say. “Sister, the dawn finally shined on us.”

He dreams that his clan thrives. He dreams that an ocean surges and laps at his ankles, and he dreams that the IPC was kind, not charging an inch of gold or credits. He wants to laugh– Kind?

In this perfect world, he would’ve grown old with his family, his skin and mind untainted, with no mark on his neck. He might’ve met Ratio under better circumstances, with a better introduction, he might’ve still been Aventurine- or not.

What he was sure of though, was in this paradise, he would’ve met you again– and he could’ve loved you.

You would’ve been a foreigner from another planet, landing a job in Sigonia as a bartender. He would’ve met you after a promotion. You’d slide a glass of honeyed-whiskey into his hand, and your fingers would meet. You’d smile shyly, and he’d allow himself to feel warm.

He’d ask for your number, and then the two of you would hit it off, going on dates by the ocean. You’d want to take it slow, and he wouldn’t feel restless or insecure, savoring each moment. He’d listen to you ramble about your dreams, and he’d tell you his dreams.

In this paradise, he could hold you without scaring himself, without thinking what if you leave, what if you die, and it’d be his fault? He wouldn’t scathe you with his bitter words, wouldn’t scowl at your kindness, instead basking in it.

He dreams of introducing you to his family. His sister would appreciate your blunt honesty and curiosity, inviting you to weave and embroider with her. His father would talk to you in broken Interastral and invite you to Avgin customs. His mother would get to know you better, cooking your favorite every time you came over.

“When will you marry?” She’d tease, and he’d huff out a flustered laugh.

And then he’d kiss you, he could kiss you without feeling as if he were using you, enjoy your company without counting the days of when this would end.

He can live without worrying about another day of survival, without feeling guilty and scared.

…But that just wasn’t possible, for that is all he knows now, is it not? This universe was not kind, and Kakavasha wished it was. He wished, and he prayed that somewhere far away, there was a universe where all his wants were real, that destiny wasn’t cruel enough to make him suffer, no matter where he was.

But it’s too late to wish and pray. It’s too late for wants and dreams– and it was far too late for What-If’s.

His eyes open, wet from tears. He sits up and cradles his cat-cakes. He looks down at them. They were gifts from Ratio, and the reminder of the man makes him scoff. The doctor always had a way to make him think deeper than he should’ve.

Aventurine reaches for his phone, and sees a text from you:

“I JUST GOT HOME FROM SHIFT ARDFHJHGFR YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED–”

Followed by 10 other messages 5 minutes ago. Aventurine’s shoulders melt and he lies back down with a smile.

For now, maybe this reality wasn’t the utter worst.

A/N: AGHAGSHS I HOPE this wasn’t too rusty. My potato fingers are giving up on me. The main fic is currently being outlined and I have so many ideas like what if what if Reader is sorta jealous of Ratio but doesn’t outright say it, then it makes for some delicious banter between Ratio and Reader like 😭🙏🙏

ANYWAYS thank you for reading!! May Gaiathra thrice close her eyes for you <33

[prettynice8]

Happy Birthday Bitch

Min Yoongi or Suga or Agust D x male reader, haters to lovers

The birthday boy

Stuff: Swearing, bottom reader, top Suga, sub reader, dom Suga, homophobic Suga but it's ok it's internalized, kissing but like aggressive, hate fucking, doggystyle, male reader, dick sucking (Suga receiving), creampie, kinda gay ngl, non-idol au, college au.

Word Count: 1,509

Summary: You and Min really hate each other. Anyway, he is having a birthday party and your friend invited you. Then the birthday boy demands his present from you or something.

Notes: sorry I haven't posted anything in a while, I just didn't really want to. Also fun fact, Suga used to be my least favorite member, I just thought that he was kind of boring compared to the other ones, but then I saw him rap in the Butter music video and had an epiphany of biblical proportion. Oh and Happy Birthday Suga.

It is moments like these that make you really hate your friends. Not only are they attending HIS party, but those butt sluts also invited you to come along. Those bitches were fully aware of your utter disdain for that fucking shit eating brainless fucking fucker, and yet they asked if you wanted to go. You said yes nonetheless but that is not the point.

You could never say no to a fun party, and the prospect of getting railed tonight was admittedly very pleasant sounding. You were aware that even though you hated the guy, he was very popular for some reason that you could never grasp.

He was just another dude who had nearly no personality or substance. A dumb look on his face that makes all the stupid bitches fawn over for some reason. Like he is not even that hot, sure he has an ab or two but that is it.

These thoughts kept swimming through your mind as you opened the door to the party that you could hear from miles away. As you walked in the smell of alcohol and the sight of random flashing lights was almost enough for you to pass out, the parties should be, which is almost even more angering that it came from HIM.

You were a little late because you only decided a few minutes ago that you were actually going. You made your way to the previously mentioned asshole friends that were invited to this place, but you were stopped by the man of the hour himself, Min Yoongi.

"I thought I had a no fags allowed rule." Yoongi stated, laughing at his own lazy "joke" if you can even call it that. The sudden appearance makes you jump, causing him to laugh more.

"Ew why are you talking to me!" You remarked disgustingly. "Don't you have other people to bother?"

"None as fun as you." He said, the shit eating smirk already on his face.

"Get a life." You snap at him, growing angrier every second you are in his presence. Almost walking away until he walks right in front of you, stopping your escape.

"Why are you even here?" He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

"You invited the whole school you stupid bitch." You responded aggressively, wanting this fucker gone.

"Fucking cock sucker." He exclaimed, laughing once again.

"Was that supposed to be an insult because you're just stating the obvious." You responded matter-of-factly, causing his laugh to stop and his face to solidify. "Or are you trying to start something?" You then winked at him, enjoying the uncomfortable silence he is giving you.

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?" He questioned back, his frustration growing as he stared daggers at you.

"Are you ever enjoyable to be around?" You asked, already knowing the answer being no. You try to walk away again but he grabs my arm and whispers in your ear.

"Why don't I make you." He started calmly. His voice actually sounded hot? Whatever it was, it did something to you. Confusion stirs inside of you as your mind races, though the inner turmoil is cut short when you feel something poking into your ass, already aware of what it is.

You let out a quick gasp, Min Yoongi, the man who hates you the most out of anyone you have ever known, is it hard for you? and you are getting turned by it? This must be a dream. Pinch me now.

"I'm going to do way worse." Yoongi stated. Wait, did he hear you, did you let that slip. What the fuck is happening. These thoughts spread through your mind, all of the noises and people all around you die down, Yoongi being the only thing on your mind.

"Let's go somewhere more... private." He ordered before taking your arm and leading you to his room

He brings you to his room, locks the door, and slams you into it, desperately kissing you.

His lips feel surprisingly good with your own, soft yet solid enough to leave quite the impact. You kiss him back just as desperately, your hands already going to take his shirt off, which he helps you with. Once it is off his lips crash right back on to yours where they belong.

He starts to become even more needy, diving his tongue into your mouth and exploring every part he can. His hands take your ass in vice grip as yours explore his broad and muscly torso, following each tone of his body.

"I still hate you." He said between tongue entanglements.

"Ditto." You said before diving right back in, but his hand stops you.

You let out muffled wails of confusion and frustration until he finally justifies himself. "I think your mouth can be used for more important things." was the last he said before bringing you to your knees.

Being an experienced little diva, you know exactly what to do. You strip his pants and boxers off in a single swipe. His throbbing member was already begging for your attention, you hated the guy but had to admit that he was packing some serious artillery.

Your hands begin to work on his shaft, pumping it slowly up and down while giving the tip light kisses, but that wasn't enough for him. So he shoves your head straight down onto his massive cock.

You take him so easily, his cock already all the way in. You begin moving your head up and down his length, the tip hitting your throat every time.

"God you're fucking good! I guess you had to be at something." He groaned, you respond by nipping him a little bit, which he responds with by fully fucking your throat.

He grabs your hair tightly and goes to mother fucking town. Thrusting his hips into your mouth, almost making you cum just from this, the thought of this monster going in your ass scares you so much it is sexual.

He finally starts emptying his balls into your throat, taking you off his dick. He doesn't even have to ask you to swallow before you have already done so.

"Fucking whore." He said as he picked you up and threw you onto the bed. Wasting no time with taking off your clothes, literally ripping your shirt in half.

"Hey!" You yell.

"You won't be going anywhere for a while, so shut the fuck up and get on your hands and knees." He demanded unapologetically.

You do exactly as he says, wanting to get fucked by his massive cock so badly it almost hurts.

He wastes no time with foreplay, only giving you one quick kiss which was surprisingly sweet, a spank, and he was off. He plunged is dick into you, bottoming out in one quick thrust.

Tears spilled from your eyes, but you can think about that right now when he is already going full force, fucking your ass like a semi-truck, that actually would be gentler.

He has a death grip on your hips that will absolutely bruise, he also keeps spanking your ass repeatedly leaving it bright red, his teeth also leaving love bites all over your neck, but you cannot thing about any of that when he is pounding into so hard, leaving all other sensations feel like child's play.

You would say that Yoongi is only chasing his own pleasure but then he starts pumping your painfully hard dick. He also occasionally plays with your sensitive nipples, how kind.

The sounds of Yoongi's groans and skin hitting skin is nothing compared to the sound of your moans filling the room and probably the house itself, oh yeah there was a party going on.

The thing on your mind is Yoongi's hand pulling your hair, the other gripping your ass, his lips leaving light kisses and love bits on your neck, his crashing into you, and his ass deeply hitting your ass.

"God fucking dammit, you take me so well pretty boy." He complimented, waited, complemented. Did Min Yoongi himself just give you a compliment, and call you a pretty boy? What the fuck is happening.

"I'm close, I'm going to cum right into you." He stated.

He pulls you back, so your back is touching his chest and pulls you into a deep kiss. Unlike the ones earlier where it was all sexual, this felt almost loving, like the one he gave you before permanently ruining your insides.

That was all you needed before shooting ropes of cum onto the mattress. He follows suit right into you, filling your insides with hot cum.

You crash onto the mattress, completely fucked out of your mind. Yoongi gets off the bed and leaves, good riddance you think.

Until he comes back with a rag to clean you up. He tosses it and gets right into his bed with you. Yoongi pulls you up and lays your head on his chest, giving you one quick kiss on the forehead.

"Best. Present. Ever." He said.

"Happy birthday bitch."

THE END

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUGA 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Windows To the Soul- Kinktober Week Two

Juliette Nichols x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI 18+

[Originally labelled 'Mirror, Mirror On the Wall, Who's the Biggest Slut of Them All?]

Summary: An unplanned visit after your abrupt breakup with the Sheriff of the Silo brings unexpected revelations.

Kinks: Mirror sex, post-break-up sex.

A/N: This fic is less explicit smut and more graphic emotion-wise. What is the dirtiest, most sinful thing one can do if not admit they need another? (I am struggling to write the smut and it shows bc everything I write is just SAD).

Word Count: 2.1k

Every breath of air you took in this moment felt woefully inadequate. You couldn’t get a breath in, not a true, full-bellied breath that would soothe the ache in your lungs, relax the tension in your stomach, release the blockage in your throat. Three weeks of no contact, not a single glance in the hallways, and she was back, sitting on your couch like she’d never left. Taking you off guard in your own home. It’s something Juliette would do. The same blonde hair falling out of a too-loose ponytail, unbuttoned uniform and belt loosened to accommodate the natural press of her slouched abdomen against her pants.

“Jules.”

“Shut up.”

You don’t know who moved first, her barreling towards you off of her perch on the couch, you careening forwards and meeting her halfway. Her hands on your back, hips, shoulders, grasping-grabbing-pulling-yanking-cradling-holding all of you. Her mouth smashing against yours, the goddamned whimper she let out. All of the anger and hurt of the break up forgotten in the paroxysm of her body on yours, her mouth tracing hungry patterns wherever it found purchase.

“Jules, wait, please-”

A swipe of her hand over the table, glassware smashing on the floor; the destructive nature of her desires on full display.

“I can’t get you out of my head.” she whispered, nose pressed against your temple and shaky breaths puffing out over the small hairs that clung next to your ear.

That stupid face. Those stupid blue eyes and cocky smirk, the class of glassware.

“Get the fuck off.” you shoved her back, getting off the table.

A perplexed look came over Juliette’s face, her hands raised in mock surrender.

“Sorry.”

“You would be.” you snapped. 

The broken glass littered the already well worn linoleum. Another mess, another headache Juliette brought upon you. Neither of you spoke a word as you swept the broken glass into a pan, putting it in a bag for now.

“I should’ve slapped you.” you mumbled, not quite meaning it.

Juliette raised her brows, shaking her head dismissively. Her thumbs worked circles over the fabric where they perched out of her pockets, adding to the sheepish posture.

“Yeah, well sex with your ex is supposed to be cathartic.” she sighed.

“Not if you ended on bad terms.” you snapped.

Juliette shrugged, using your less than furious response as a cue to push forwards a little more. One step closer towards you at a time, slowly invading your personal space.

“It was a short fling, I didn't think I needed an explanation for leaving.”

Her reasoning was nothing short of inadequate. A fling, a minor dance of passion between two people who were just in the same place at the right time. Until it was the wrong time. But it hadn’t been, not in your eyes. Realizing she had never really gotten over George well enough to love another had been a hard pill to swallow, one you’d only managed recently.

“You know, you really should’ve made it clear that you weren’t planning on staying.” 

Looking at her was an awful mixture between painful and infuriating. You busied yourself with the dishes instead. They’d been soaking long enough, it was a matter of draining the water and actually washing them. Such an act conveniently coincided with having the excuse to avoid looking at her.

“Listen, I get that you’re upset that I wasn’t upfront about what I wanted, but no one ever is, so…” Jules shrugged, watching as you dove headfirst into the nearest task.

“Doesn’t excuse the fact that you just up and left. Lead me on… Flirted, teased, even hinted at something more in the future. Kind of like how George did to you.”

Juliette let out a groan of anger, turning on her heel and running a hand over her scalp in the anxious-avoidant motion she was so fond of.

“Founders be damned, are we just going to sit here and trade barbs all day?” she huffed. “I have enough shit going wrong for me, I don’t need you-”

“Oh you're still entitled to me?” you snapped. “Pretty mature of you, slinking back for a less than underhanded attempt at trying to fuck me.”

Juliette spun on her heel, now facing you. Her jaw quirked to the left, mouth working its way into a grimace. Again she smoothed her hair, hands stilling on her hips.

“I came because I wanted to apologize, and then you came in with your business casual shirt all rumpled, and in that damn skirt that just hugs your body, so yeah, maybe I got a little side tracked.”

There was nothing you could say to that. It wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t exactly a compliment. She’d left emotional baggage and pain the same way George had left it with her. A cute little cycle, but not one you excused her from. Soap was up to your upper arms, each dish scrubbed beyond what was really necessary to get it clean, but it was better than outright hurling something at her.

“Listen, I do miss some things, it just… For so long I didn’t know what I wanted, and now I do. And it’s not here, not with you, as wonderful as you are…” she choppily advocated, taking slow steps forwards until she was just short of touching you.

“As wonderful as I am you’re an asshole who wanted someone to fuck and hold you close while you were going through your shit. There’s a word for it, and it’s called a rebound. Shittiest thing you could ever do to a person, honestly.”

A long sigh crested over your shoulder, close enough to tickle the back hairs of your neck. Her arms snaked forwards, resting lightly on the swell of your hips. 

“Crawling back to you isn’t what I was planning, but I can’t resist another go…”

An arm snaked around your front ready to pull you back towards her, to snag you and pull you towards another hook up you knew you’d regret.

“Just one more time, for the fun of it…” Juliette whispered, breath climbing over your ear, attempting to lure you into a yes.

Anger welled up again, and this time you had a sink full of soapy water and a small pot to work with. Turning on your heel, you doused her front with several cups of warm dishwater. Juliette looked down at her clothes, and then you. 

“I have the maturity problem? Yeah right.” 

She reached in the sink, using a bowl to douse your work clothes in that same water. You smacked her with the damp dish towel, she snapped your ass. The two of you fought like children, splashing each other with water until both of you were wetter than not. A particularly violent toss of water caused your frictionless shoes to slip on the linoleum, causing you to careen back. The plastic cup fell against the floor, your body careening down towards the ground. Two hands reached outward, gripping your shoulders. Juliette let out a yelp, losing traction as well. You both crashed against the floor in a mess of limbs. Her elbow against your ribs, her chin clacking shut as her jaw cracked against your shoulder.

Both of you groaned, each more than a little sore. Juliette adjusted her body over yours, staring down at you, laid upon the linoleum with water lining the floor around you. Her head blocked the main light of the kitchen, creating a small halo around her head as she looked down upon you with more than a fair degree of concern. Neither of you broke the silence. Doing such a thing would be precarious, shattering the subtle tranquility of the moment. She settled above you, elbows on either side of your face. 

When she leaned down you didn’t push her away. Her body was warm, seeping through the damp cloth of her soaked uniform. You swore you could still feel the familiar dip and swell of her muscular back, and as your hands traced the line of her spine, you found the familiar divot at the base, hiding just under where her belt sat. Juliette, to her credit, was far more cautious in her next attempt. Soft kisses graced your cheeks, her fingers just lightly tracing the hair above your ears.

“Yes?” she whispered.

“Since we’re both here…” you softly replied, a squeeze to her back to affirm that subtle consent.

Juliette hummed once, hands sliding under your torso, pulling you up and off of the wet floor. Her hand cradled the back of your head, soothing pressure overwhelming the dull ache from where your skull had made contact with the ground. To have Juliette be this soft with you spoke to her inner guilt, a phenomena you’d witnessed many times after she vented to you about George. But you wouldn’t complain. Not when she was pulling you up, cradling you to her like a small child, carrying you away, out of the kitchen, towards the bathroom. 

As your feet touched the ground, she caught your chin, pressing a soft kiss there. A reassuring kiss, probably the only real intimacy you’d get out of this experience. Her mouth found your neck, wetter, meaner, hungrier kisses working slow patterns down, her calloused hands undoing the zipper of your skirt, the buttons of your blouse. Your own hands shook as you undid her uniform. Belt clanging to the floor with her slacks, uniformed button up shrugged off in the same manner you’d watched countless times. Neither of you could speak at this moment, neither of you dared. Words could ruin this moment, would ruin it. 

By the third time her lips crashed against yours you were finally bold enough to reciprocate, mouth slackening as her tongue slipped past your lips. She had the smallest hint of coffee breath, the one beverage you were sure she consumed regularly. Juliette lived on coffee, she depended on it in ways you knew to be worrisome. But when that coffee-breath stained tongue touched yours, it was a comfort. A spark of assurance in an otherwise vague moment. Her hands slipped to your back, yanking off your bra, blunt nails digging in with the desperation of her jerky moments. You both kicked off your shoes as you finished pulling off your panties. A push into the shower, that was all the direction she gave.

Cold water shocked your flushed skin as she turned the water on, body pressing against yours as she desperately kissed you against the shower wall. A quick glance to the long mirror in the bathroom confirmed the sight. Juliette’s hands tracing your hips, her mouth tracing desperate patterns on your neck. You didn’t have the heart to tell her to stop. You’d wear turtlenecks for a month if that’s what you needed.

“Jules, look at me, please.” you broke the rhythm of the moment, trying to catch her gaze.

“I am.” she whispered.

Her gaze slipped to your right, and you turned, following it. Blue-steel eyes meeting yours in the slightly foggy mirror. You turned, still making that eye-contact as her hands slipped around you from behind. One hand down, parting your labia. The other cupped your left breast, thumb drawing circles over the pebbled flesh. 

You didn’t watch her hands as they stimulated you, fingers dipping inside, thumb tweaking your clit. You felt that. But all you saw were those blue eyes overrun with emotion. A white-hot throbbing erupted in your chest, complimenting and growing alongside the burning ache in your core. The sounds you both made, the way you moaned, the desperate whines she let out as she watched you climb higher, it was all background. Center stage were those blue eyes, heavy and burdened. 

One climax, then two. Your legs gave out, the two of you collapsing in the bathtub. You kissed hungrily, devouring her tongue, her lips, her breath. As her thigh made contact with your cunt, hers pressed against the complimentary thigh. And as you rocked together, you felt that grief.

The small little stuffed animal she kept in her bedroom, the books she had on her shelf. The way she left all of her socks inside out to ensure she didn’t put them on with a hair inside. The nose scrunch, the awkward bug-eyed look she sported most of the time.

“Please stay.” you whispered, your hands splaying over her back.

Juliette leaned down, her forehead pressed against yours. One loud whine and she came undone. Her body slouched over yours in the bathtub, the shower going cold as the water pounded down around you. Juliette’s breathing evened, nose finding that familiar crook in your neck and just nuzzling.

Tags: @ilovehotactresses @marvelwomenrule @midnight-lestrange

[jwanniie]

That soyeon fic was so good I love your works sm 🥹 I’m not sure if you’re taking requests right now but can you do reader asking stepsis soyeon how to eat pussy properly and sy just eating her out on her bed?

Aww, thank you so much love! I really appreciate that!!💋🤭

Pairings: Stepsis Soyeon x fem reader!

Warning: pussy eating, cum eating, reader gets caught masturbating, Soyeon smokes, drinks etc… , stepsis x stepsis, fuck girl Soyeon, not proofread, typos, fingering,Oral, and just pure smut!!

Word count:1k (1,047)

Jwans note: I’m sorry babe! I posted this late😭 hope you still enjoy!!😘

—————————————————————————

Whatever the fuck you are feeling for your stepsister soyeon wasn’t something normal to feel. As soon as Soyeon walked into your life, you couldn’t help but drool at her.

To say she was unbelievably hot was an understatement. The way she took the joint between her fingers while blowing the steam off her lungs never failed to make your panties drenched. Or the way the smoke found its way to your nose, intoxicating you.

Her room always smelled like weed, cigarettes and alcohol, three things that ruined humans health but managed to make them feel the way too good but short euphorias. You honestly never liked the smell of this combination or even found anyone who smoked attractive, it was a big turn off for you. But the way this jumped out of the window as soon as you saw soyeon was crazy. It was only Soyeon who looked hot doing it.

One thing you disliked about Soyeon was the chicks that went in and out of her room every day. They went inside with a little to no clothing and came out with one of her oversized shirts early in the morning, their hair open and their nipples pattern visible.

Now you might wonder, where was your parents? Your father and her mom met at their workplace, and since the wedding day they have been occupied with work and trips. So you meet them once every few months and Soyeon has all of the chances to be as rebellious as she wants. The jealousy would linger inside you every night, the way her bed was right against your bed, just a thin wall between it, you could hear every little noise those girls let out, how good Soyeon was fucking them.

You wished she could look at you the way she looked at those random chicks that visited every night, or maybe no, you don’t want to be a one night thing, you wanted her to actually feel something for you. Not just her stepsister who she can fuck with when she’s feeling extra freaky.

—

You were laying flat against the soft cushioned surface while your fingers worked messily inside you. You huff in frustration, your fingers not giving you the satisfaction you desperately need. You tightly shut your eyes imagining Soyeon eating you out while her fingers worked inside you, your own hand found your cunt again and the scenario in your head and your fingers making it more pleasurable.

The scene that was playing in your head worked effectively and the knot in your stomach was soon untightening, your digits continued working sloppily and you started ranting Soyeons name continuosly.

"If you wanted me this bad you could have just asked princess!" Your eyes quickly opened and the embarrassment washes over you, your fingers never stopping nonethless. Without realizing your juices spill out of your hole, wetting the bedsheets and now the embarrassment is 10x worse. Wasn´t she supposed to be out with her friends?

You look everywhere but her face. Wanting to miss the shit eating grin. Her figure was leaning on the door frame. Her eyes were looking at you amused and the cigarette between her index and middle finger. The only thing you can smell now is the strangely arousing smoke smell. Slowly washing the shame away off your mind.

She walks towards your shivering frame, sitting at the edge of the bed, her eyes studying your features. "You have not been taken care of, and im here to make you feel so good, Princess!" she cups your face, her lust but tired filled eyes looking at your embarrased ones.

The ciggarette was at this point already wasted and she throws it somewhere deep in your room. She gently nudges your shoulder back, making you lay back. Your head deep into the pillows. She tries to position herself between your legs but you were quick to close them, feeling shy at someone seeing you this close.

“Open your legs for me baby. I want to take care of you!” She gripped your knees before spreading your legs apart. The sight in front of her got her head spinning. The excitement rushes through her body and without a warning, her tongue lays flat against your swollen clit. A shiver runs down your spine and you try to close your legs around her head. The pleasure too much. Her hand travels from your knees to grip your inner thighs, her strength making you unable to even move.

Her tongue starts lapping your clit while her other hand start to tease your hole. Spreading your gummy walls apart or thrusting inside to only pull out quickly. Her fingers leave your pussy and her tongue starts thrusting inside you. Your head sinks deeper into the pillow while you suck a deep breath in, your hand found her hair, tugging on it gently.

“F-fuck Soyeonie I want to know how to eat a pussy properly like y-you.” You managed to blurt out, she looks up at you with a big smug expression.

“I will show you how to eat a pussy properly baby!”

She dives back into your cunt, sucking on your aching bud harshly while her fingers started pounding your pussy again, curling them deep and slow. Hitting all of the spots that had you weak. The squelching and lewd sounds encouraging her to do better and your high pitched moans making her hump your bed, wanting some friction.

You raised your head up looking at what was happening. The sight was so fucking hot, better than what you have dreamed off, she was way too good, eating you like a starved woman.

She picked up her pace, now rough and fast, her long slender fingers managing to hit your g-spot effortlessly. You soon were over the edge and your cum covered her face, she licked you clean. The way your pussy was clenching and unclenching around her tongue only made her to go harder before letting you rest.

“You did so good for me baby.” Her thumb now caressed your cheeks while kissing the top of your head.

“Now it’s my turn to make you feel good!” You slid between her legs before copying everything she did to you, trying to make her feel good.

[jenosbliss]

Hi, can I req for jaemin enemies to lovers with 4, 16 & 23?

pairing. fem!reader x enemy!jaemin | genre. fluff | wc. 2k | warnings. none

a/n. i’ve idea for a part 2 , will probably post it after sometime

‘Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.’ I once read in a book which I regretted reading afterwards but again in another book I read ‘Hating someone feels disturbingly similar to being in love with them.’ The book which goes by the name The Hating Game.

I would have loved that book if it wasn’t an enemies to lovers trope, the only form of romance I dislike the most. Enemies-to-lovers is something which could not exist in real life, you can never fall in love with your enemy, someone you hate from the bottom of your heart. At least I can’t with Na Jaemin .

Not that I want to fall in love with him —it’s even scarier than my worst nightmare— but even thinking about loving or liking that jerk makes me want to throw up.

Yes, you can also say that it’s all just in my head how my friends remind me everyday and who so happily enjoy watching our bickering, our death glares at each other, our hatred for each other. They are living in the daily soap they spend hours watching because only both of us can see the anger and hatred dripping from our eyes.

Even friendship can’t exist between us, jokes on me to even think of friendship when we can’t stand each other if we are in the same room, as snarky comments and death glares fly across the room. No one can stand us together to be honest.

Why do I hate him? I don’t know when my hatred for him even started, maybe it was hate at first sight. Such a self-absorbed, cocksure, smug, stubborn jerk he is. The way he walks, the way he talks, the way he smiles, the way he looks —he’s handsome almost like a Greek God, but I’m not going to accept it— just his whole existence pisses me off. Also not like he ever gave me a reason to change the way I felt for him cause he reciprocates my feelings, if not more.

“I’m not sharing the room with him.” Trying my best to tone my voice down I yelled at my friend who was allotting the rooms. “Y/n try to understand please, we don’t have any more rooms left.” She pleaded, pulling me inside her room.

When my friends asked me if I wanted to be a part of this two-day holiday to the beach, never had I imagined that when I would enter the room of the hotel we’re staying for the weekend I would find him sprawled –like a starfish– on the bed, the bed I was supposed to spend the night peacefully on!

“But you know I can’t stand him even for a second! No, change his room.” huffing, I crossed my arms around my chest. “But all the other rooms are occupied y/n, you came late so…” she trailed off, fueling my anger even more. “I didn’t turn up late on purpose! I had informed you beforehand that I’ll be late!” Looking behind her I saw a figure coming out of the bathroom.

“Maybe your boyfriend, who happens to be his friend” rolling my eyes I continued “can switch the room with me?” That’s the most I can give in, I’m ready to switch the rooms which should’ve been him instead. “C’mon Y/N! I understand the tension between you two is as high as Mount Everest…” gasping dramatically I passed her an offensive look, there was no tension between us, it was just hate.

Ignoring me she continued “… but everyone has needs and I have a life too, I want to spend some time with my boyfriend. So will you please let us? It’s just a matter of tonight. We’ll sort something out tomorrow. It's already past 2, go sleep.” Even before she finished her short monologue I was pushed out of the room with a large wooden door slammed shut in my face.

Was she for real? If she planned this whole trip just to fuck her boyfriend she didn’t have to ask me! Why make my already not so good life even worse? Stomping my way aggressively to the room I grabbed my head in frustration.

“It’s just for a night, you can do it y/n. Calm down. Relax.” Taking a deep breath I tried to prepare myself, “Or you always have a second option if things go out of your hands, killing” A little voice inside my head said. It’s not like this voice has appeared for the first time. Last week when he “accidentally” spilled his iced tea on me, I was about to throw the chair I was sitting on his face. This voice appeared that time too. “I don’t wanna go to jail because of such a useless human.” I thought.

“You know it’s better to sleep than making plans to kill me and I’m not useless.” The door opened to reveal him with an utterly idiotic smirk. Can he read minds too? Okay I’m in trouble then, no I didn’t think anything for which you should smirk too but all my plans of tricking him will be known.

“Are you a stalker or what?” Pushing him away I entered the room, which was supposed to be mine. “No darling, your footsteps can be heard around ten miles from here. I just happen to have great hearing skills.” He whispered the last part.

I could have replied, I could have continued this which would soon turn into bickering but I was too tired for that, I just wanted to sleep peacefully, ironically peace and Na Jaemin don’t come together. So let me change my statement, I just wanted to sleep at any cost.

“Here, take the pillow, sleep on the couch.” Throwing the fluffy white material filled with soft feathers at him, I started unpacking my bag to take out my night clothes. “And why should I listen to you?” He plopped down on the bed, stretching out. “Jaemin, right now I’m not in the mood to argue.” Raising my hand, I shook my head.

“Neither am I, but I’m as stubborn as you. Which means I am not sleeping on the couch.” Closing my bag I faced him, as stubborn as me? It’s not a good start, it can never be with him. “Why are you like this?” Scowling, I moved to the bathroom. “Why are you like this?” He mimicked. God, save this guy from me.

Coming back to the room after changing my clothes I saw him still lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone. Rolling my eyes out of annoyance I walked up to my side of the bed and started putting the spare pillows and cushions between us. “Is this really necessary?” Sparing a glance at what I was doing he asked.

“Very much necessary, I don’t want to wake up with your limbs around me in the morning.” Even the thought of it disgusted me. “But this is eating up too much space.” He complained. “Better than you eating me-” Realising how wrong that must have sounded I looked at him, who had that mischievous smirk which made me furious. “That one sounds better.” He lied back down.

“Shut that mouth of yours and sleep.” Switching off the lights I faced the other direction. “It's hot when you talk back, princess.” He teased, I hate these nicknames so much!

I shouldn’t have come on this trip, everything about it was wrong. First, sharing the room with Jaemin , almost fighting with my friend and the worst of all coming even though I twisted my ankle –the sole reason I was late– to the hotel. My left ankle felt as if someone was slowly cutting it off with a sharp axe, it’s so painful!

Groaning, I shifted to the other side, trying to get in a comfortable position to fall asleep, forgetting about the man next to me. “Are you uncomfortable?” A husky voice made my eyes shoot open to find the sleepy ones of Jaemin already on me. “What do you expect when you’re lying next to me?” Scoffing, he shifted closer much to my dismay.

“Look I know your ankle hurts cause Junhee told me you’re at the hospital getting your ankle treated so don’t try to pull up an act.” Taken aback by his interest in me –I know she’ll never tell him about my whereabouts until he asks– I questioned further. “Why did you ask her about me?” How dumb of me to raise an eyebrow as if he would see it.

For the first time in the three years I have known him he stuttered when talking to me, was he that taken aback by my question? Omg y/n don’t forget to write it in your diary. “H-huh? I- I…” he cleared his throat “I thought I was using this room alone when Junhee came and asked if you could stay in this room too as you were late and there weren’t any spare rooms left… so I asked why you were late…” this sounds convincing, not very much but it does.

“Oooh. By the way, what about your girlfriend? Shouldn’t you be on this trip with her and the one you should be sharing the room with?” I smirked. My eyes were begging me to sleep but my brain forced me to put up this question. “We broke up a year ago.” He deadpanned as I facepalmed myself mentally. What a stupid question!

“So you haven’t dated for a year?” I gasped genuinely shocked. “Yes.” Wait really, the OH SO GODLY Jaemin hasn’t dated anyone FOR A YEAR!! “Not even a fling?” I was about to get up but the stinging pain in my ankle pulled me back. “You own my heart” he said, was it my heart skipping a beat? No y/n don’t be fooled by him! “C’mon tell me.” Slapping lightly on his arm I whined.“No. Not even a fling.” He repeated. “Woah, wow! I mean it’s surprising.” It was surprising, at least to me. “Is it? Because I thought you knew the girl very well I’m interested in so I don’t think it should surprise you.” He whispered. Wait what?

Leaning his head on his elbow he stared in my eyes, even though it was dark –nothing could be seen as there was very little light coming from the curtained window– but his eyes shone in this darkness, as if they were the only source of light in this dark room, as if they are the most beautiful pair of eyes to ever exist, as if I could stare at them forever, as if I could drown in th-

‘What the hell are you thinking y/n!? You hate him, you can’t like him! He’s your enemy’ the same voice from before alarmed me, it was right, he’s my enemy…

“Did you take painkillers?” He questioned, eyes not leaving mine. “Yes, after dinner I did.” Neither did I break the gaze. “Then we can try this.” With this said he stood up, took two pillows –which were used to limit our respective bed spaces ‘by me’– and placed one of the pillows under my leg which had been aching and the other beside it as if securing my ankle.

“I hope it’s better than before.” His eyes creased, hinting the smile on his lips. “It is, thank you.” mumbling, I closed my eyes shut not wanting to let my thoughts move freely. ``Sleep y/n, you just need to sleep.’

“Sleep well y/n and don’t worry I won’t throw my limbs on top of you.” the mattress next to me dipped inwards, he had lied down, probably facing the other side I hope. Opening my eyes I looked at his face, so close to me… I really hate this guy.

I hate him because firstly he didn’t face the other side, secondly he made me feel all these weird things for him and thirdly, he didn’t keep his promise. After he had fallen asleep and probably I was too I felt his arms curling around my torso as he shifted closer to me.

I even heard him mumbling something along the lines of "It's time to stop lying to ourselves." Maybe I was dreaming, maybe not but I couldn’t care less right now because he felt warm, and I liked that warmth. Maybe he isn’t that bad, maybe I shouldn’t hate him this much.

navigwation.

nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

100 follower event 🌷

[elsaellaelys]

Tease

summary: JJ is the only one that makes Y/N shy.

pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

1.300 words

a/n: Tumblr made this really hard to post. What's going on?

Let me know if you have any requests!

--★--

Y/N always seemed to know what to say, everytime, with everybody. She had the answered in the tip of her tongue all the time and never let anything goes by unnoticed. The boys never had a chance coming with pick up lines, she made sure she was in charge, having all of them in the palm of her hands; smoke 'em like a cigarette: puff, pass.

And she was flirty with everybody. So could you misunderstand the reason she and JJ started to cross the line of friendship?

As JJ was just the same, sassy and reckless, constantly messing around, living life for the moment, girls was just a pastime, cold beer and nice weed to feel the fun. Everything was a joke, life was a big joke so, why take it serious when you could just enjoy?

Of course Y/N thought about JJ in a not-just-friendly way, so did he, but it was just a thought. So what if she was a raving beauty? So what if she wanted to see lower into his swim shorts when he was shirtless? Don't everybody thinks that about their good looking friends?

Y/N was just showing her new cargo mini skirt to Kiara, the pogues were setting the hammocks to enjoy the summer twilight, she did a twirl, popping her ass up a little she looked over her shoulder to the curly hair girl behind her. "What do you think? Is it too tight? I hope I still can crouch."

"It looks amazing." Kie answered.

"Hmm." JJ hummed, laid in his hammock he had a perfect view of her.

"What?" she turned around "I look bad?"

"Nah, you look delicious." He played, she giggled, hands on her hips as her head inclined a little. "You think? Wanna have a bite?" she played back.

"Always."

It's very right it was the way he smiked at her - hands behind his head, sleeveless shirt showing his relaxed arms muscles - that made her blush like that. The pogues shared a look. That was new. She sat in a garden chair, kinda flustered smiled back at him, coming back to Kiara to lightly avoid JJ. "Can you believe I got it from the thrift store? It was up for grabs."

JJ smiled to himself, it was like he found out a superpower. Making Y/N blush like that, like he just caught her out of guard when he clearly didn't. He wanted to make sure it wasn't the hot air in her system, so he build a tension between them all the time they were together, arms around her shoulders, hands running down her arms, face too close to hers when he had the chance, playing with the hair in the back of her neck, with the strings of her bikini just to see the nervous look in her eyes and she hated it, hated even more the fact that she like it, her blood heating up to her head, neck felling so hot, she didn't know why though, it was just JJ, just teasing, but her body had its own reaction without askind for permission, she couldn't do nothing but stand there, unable to vanish that stupid grin out from his face.

The group were currently trying to light up a bonfire for the end of the Friday as they like to do, sit around the fire drink, smoke and laugh, Pope trying to give John B. hints because he couldn't start the fire, a discussion beginning to grow while Kiara was sitted, Y/N standing in front of the place the fire was supposed to be, both laughing at them.

"Don't you think I can't light a fire? I've done it a thousand times, alright?!" John B. bickered.

"I'm just saying how you can do it better!" Pope said back.

"I think I can do it by myself." The matches were going to waste one after one, JB was clearly pissed with Pope and his hints. "I need a fucking lighter, man! Can you give one and shut your mouth?!" he yelled.

JJ threw him a lighter, instinctively going behind Y/N, arms creeping around her body holding her tight against him. She tried dodge from his hold but he was pressing her arms down.

"Can you let me go?!" she squirmed

"Nah, I like staying like this." he smirked, cheek to cheek with her as he rocked her to the sides.

"Let me go!" the girl yelled, everybody staring as she broke away from him, shoving his chest. "Fuck!" she stormed inside the Chateau.

JJ shrugged, eyes wide. "Wow. Didn't see that coming."

"You really didn't?" Kiara sarcastically asked.

"Man, you're provoking her way too much. It's even pitiful." Pope added.

JJ got up, going to find Y/N in the kitchen, her head leaning against the fridge door, eyes closed, she looked like she was trying to calm her nerves, he made her feel so vulnerable she felt embarrassed. He felt guilty as he approached, clearing his throat to make his presence noticed. She looked up at him, dead glare.

"Trying to cool down?" he jocked.

She deep sighed, grabbing a bottle of water. "What do you want?"

"Did I annoyed you? I didn't mean to."

"Really? You've been doing that for a while, it's really shaming, y'know?" she complained.

"Why? Why does it bothers you so much?" JJ asked, getting closer, not with a mean intention, but because he needed to feel her closer. "I'm sorry." he clarified, hands slowly going up to her arms, stroking her skin. "Do I make you nervous? This makes you feel nervous?"

She stared at his chest, not really finding the strength to look in his eyes. It just JJ. What makes him so different from the other guys? "I don't know. Maybe."

"But it's just me." he was right, but that was the problem. "See, there's only us here. Tell me what's wrong."

She shrunk, not wanting to say it.

"I don't want to make you nervous. It's okay." he reassured, hand coming up to her face bringing it up a little, her eyes met his. "Thought you were tough, you're just a little baby."

"I'm not a baby." she protested.

"Oh no? This doesn't make you nervous?" he asked, holding her waist softly, hand sneaking under her shirt, she shook her head. "That's good. Can I...?" he approached her neck, leaving sweet kisses along her jaw line, she whimpered, he smiled into her skin. "You like it, uhm?"

"Stop the teasing, it's exactly what I don't like." she complained,  squeezing his arms tightly.

"'Kay, sorry." he laughed, leaning a bit to capture her lips with his. It was all a little faltering, sure they both wanted that, but it was different, new, that type of conection, the tension. Although, the kiss was the hottest, beyond question, teasing was over, their bodies hot against each other. JJ felt he fell in a trap he created.

Y/N didn't mind the days of annoyance anymore, she wanted him more and more pressed to her body. Tongues slipping, lips swollen, hands clinging to her waist, and hips, and face, ass, cupping, stroking, whimpering lightly.

They broke apart, hearing someone clear the throat behind them, turning around to find Kiara, Pope and John B. standing with mocking grins on their faces.

"We thought you killed each other." Kiara scoffed.

"Clearly not." Pope laughed.

Y/N rolled her eyes "And you're gonna stand here and disturb?"

"Uh, sorry, just grabbing the stuff for the s'mores." John B. apologized crossing the room to the kitchen cabinets. "We're leaving..." he said, returning to add. "Don't do it in my kitchen."

"Get out!" JJ whisper yelled, coming back to her lips, unholdable smile in his face.

[advantage-artrick]

i probably think about art coming in his pants at least fifty times a day. . . i really wish that was a joke.

it's gotten so bad that one of my favorite pastimes now is making a list of things i just know would have him shooting off before he gets his shorts down.

without further ado, here's a small fraction of what i've thought of so far!

CW: lots of nsfw stuff (mdni). nobody takes their pants off, but there's still some grinding, a little choking, mild degradation, very light d/s, and some other unimportant things. proceed with caution, i suppose.

(this post is entirely art x patrick, but if y'all are at all interested in an x reader or an x tashi part two of this list, i can totally make that happen!

also, if you've got anything to add to this one for a second artrick list, i am just dying to hear your ideas lol 💕)

XOXO

• starting off strong with ✨️dry humping✨️. i feel like this requires no explanation, but i'm going to give one anyway.

when art and patrick make out, it's never planned. or at least, it's not until after the challenger. pre-stanford (and maybe a few times at stanford), if they make out it's because they're drunk, high, exhausted, or just generally not in their right minds.

because of this, it's always messy and desperate and painfully uncoordinated, which is a winding road that- no matter which way they turn- always leads back to filthy, ankles-around-the-waist grinding. grinding that looks a lot like they're trying to fuck each other through their nicest party jeans.

while they have yet to attempt this feat successfully, they aren't ever gonna give up, because they just know that once art manages to last longer than four minutes, there's no telling what they'll be able to accomplish.

but it really isn't art's fault that he shoots off so quickly when they're kissing on his bed. the feeling of having patrick's tongue in his mouth while his impressively large (and very warm) bulge rubs up against his own is just too much for him to handle. and then he starts moaning, and patrick starts grinding harder, and when he folds art fully in half to rut desperately against his ass, the poor kid doesn't even stand a chance.

he always feels so secure being held down and pretend-fucked by his best friend, but still there's so much electricity running through him that it's impossible for him to relax. it's an electricity that just builds and builds, and he can't take it anymore because patrick's dick is right there, but he can't feel it like he wants to. then he imagines what it would actually feel like without their clothes in the way, and in no time, his unexposed cock is spurting messily in his underwear. it goes on for what feels like forever, leaving an obvious wet spot on the denim as payback for all the chafing friction it inflicted upon him.

he whines and gasps into patrick's mouth the whole time, making it impossible for him to not have noticed. and although it's always going to be embarrassing for him, seeing patrick glance down at the stain with a smirk before leaning back in to kiss him even harder will always be more than worth it.

"you do that every fucking time," patrick laughs, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck that makes art shiver and practically melt beneath him. "it's adorable. my favorite part by far."

"shut up. . . this is the last time we're doing this anyway, so i hope you fucking enjoyed it," art slurs, and there's not even a pinch of real frustration in his voice as patrick bites down softly on his collarbone.

art frowns, but he tilts his head to the side anyway to give patrick more room to work. he must be even drunker than he thought to let him keep going when he's already gotten off.

well, to even be doing this in the first place, he already knows he's hammered.

"uhuh, i'm sure," patrick responds, smiling deviously against art's pale, overheated skin. "you know, you say that every time too."

• alright, next up we got ✨️wrestling✨️.

of all of these examples, this is the one that i imagine happens at the most inopportune times. meaning, when they're fully sober and often at the gym or fucking around on the court after practice.

when art and patrick really get into it enough to start tackling each other, it's usually art who provokes it and patrick who initiates.

art likes to make fun of his roommate for being stupid and dirty minded, and for having the most eccentric serve known to mankind. he can get pretty ruthless with his words sometimes, but there are never any hard feelings because patrick knows he loves him.

sometimes patrick retaliates by calling art short (even though he's only got an inch on him) or prudish or nerdy, but that's not nearly as much fun as snatching art's hat off his head. . . or his phone from his hands, or his favorite tennis ball from the air when he tosses it.

it's not even close to as fun, actually, so that's what he does a good majority of the time.

needless to say, art still hasn't quite accepted that he is incapable of stealing anything back once it ends up in patrick's obnoxiously quick hands. because of this, he always gives his all into retrieving it, chasing his best friend around the court and tackling him to the ground when patrick lets him catch up.

within a few seconds, they're a mess of limbs on the ground, hands pushing and pulling anything they can reach in an attempt to pin the other ones' down.

it's never long before whatever patrick stole is discarded and forgotten on the ground beside them. no matter why they started the match, the only true goal once they get going is to not be the first to tap out.

patrick always wins in the end, but never without a struggle, which is why he only wins once art is face down on the ground, groaning with his arms pinned tightly behind his back.

usually patrick sits on him at that point, squeezing his waist with his thighs to keep him from getting up. sometimes he leans down close to his ear and huffs, "take it back, donaldson. i'm not getting up until you take it back."

art whimpers, unsure if it's from the stretch of his muscles or the hard press of his boner against the concrete.

"fuck you," he responds, whining again when patrick twists his arms harder. "fuck, stop it. you win! you win, pat, just stop. please."

but patrick ignores him, laughing at his weak attempts to throw him off.

"nuh-uh, not until you take it back," patrick says again, grinning. "as a matter of fact, i think i want you to apologize. yeah, that sounds more like it. i'll get off when you say you're sorry, and that you love me very much," he mocks, leaning down again to wrap his arm around art's neck in a chokehold while the other holds on tight to his wrists.

art groans again, struggling to take a deep breath from how tight patrick's arm is around his throat. his face feels so hot, and his dick just keeps getting harder, and he almost wants to keep fighting just so he doesn't have to look him in the eyes like this.

"say it," patrick growls, his bicep constricting even more, and art's giving in without even consciously deciding to.

"Fuck, i love you. i love you, i love you so much, please get off," he babbles, and just speaking the words out loud is apparently too much for him in that state.

before patrick can even roll off of his back, he's coming, crying out embarrassingly loudly as he shakes through it. when he comes to about a minute later, patrick's sitting on the ground beside him, just staring.

his face is pink, and his legs are pulled up to his chest so that his crotch is fully hidden from view. he's breathing pretty heavily too, but that could've just been from the exertion of their little tussle.

"you, uh, okay?" he asks quietly after a moment, not sure what exactly he's supposed to do in a situation like this.

art looks back down at the ground, pushing up slightly onto his arms. he doesn't want to stand up, unsure of what the damage would be if he did.

he has hot, humiliated tears in his eyes, and he's so sure that he's just fucked things up between them permanently. i mean, what kind of best friend orgasms because of a little playful choking?

"it's okay, dude. we can. . . we can stay here for a minute," patrick says in response to his silence, cutting through art's anxious thoughts and bringing him back to the present.

slowly, patrick stretches his legs back out, revealing the obscenely tented crotch of his loose tennis shorts.

"i don't really wanna join your walk of shame."

art blushes further, unable to tear his eyes away. it just looks so. . . developed, like he's been hard for a while at this point. art swears for a second there that he even saw it pulsing angrily through the fabric.

"oh. . ." he mumbles, glancing back up at patrick's face uncomfortably. he looks like he wants to ask about it, so patrick tosses an explanation out before he gets the chance to.

"you moan like a girl when you come," he jokes, grinning shyly to test the waters.

"do not!" art whines, finally finding the strength to stand up, and his soaked crotch is right in patrick's face before he remembers where they are and sits back down so fast he hurts his tailbone.

it looks bad. fuck, it looks really, really bad. there's so much it looks like he pissed himself, and they both saw that it had leaked very noticeably onto the court. he'd have to remember to rinse that with his water bottle before they left.

"holy fuck, dude," patrick gasps, trying to forget what he just saw before the image is permanently seared into his brain. "that's. . . wow."

"oh, shut up! this is all your fault, anyway."

patrick just smiles at him warmly, an unreadable expression behind his eyes.

"i know."

• last but not least, we have ✨️massages✨️.

i'm sure it's not uncommon for patrick and art to complain to each other about muscle aches and knots they can't get rid of in their backs. it's just something that comes with tennis being their only hobby and probably future career.

they spend so much time training and practicing, and since they're still so young and reckless, they haven't quite gotten in the habit of stretching like they're supposed to.

because of this, patrick can't seem to pay art a visit without having to watch him wince and hiss every time he moves his arms a certain way. even worse, art always brushes off his concerns like he's not clearly in pain when patrick asks if he's alright. it's insufferable.

"that's it. get your ass on the bed," patrick orders when he's still refusing to admit it the day before patrick has to leave.

it's a ritual at this point. it happens every single visit, at the same exact time, and in the same exact way.

art sighs, not putting up much of a fight since he knows his best friend won't take no for an answer. they've both already got their shirts off, so it would be all too easy for them to get him fixed up anyway.

he sits cross-legged in the center of his mattress, pouting while patrick settles down behind him.

"tell me where it hurts," patrick commands again, ignoring art's petulant frown. "i mean it, art. i know you're too stubborn to get it checked out and i am not leaving until you tell me."

"my shoulder," he mumbles after a moment, gasping when patrick immediately settles his hand right over the muscle that's been bothering him.

"right here, right? yeah, that spot's a bitch to get rid of," he comments, slowly adding more pressure until art is crying out softly in pain.

"oh hush, you baby," patrick mumbles, feeling around the area with his fingers. "i've barely even touched you."

art bites his lip to keep from making any more embarrassing sounds. he inhales sharply when patrick digs into the muscle hard with his thumbs.

gradually, he begins massaging his shoulder just like one of their coaches taught him to, rubbing the knot in tight little circles to loosen it up a bit.

art lasts less than half a minute before he's crying out again, trying to pull away from the prying fingers. patrick holds him in place easily, and art can sense the way he's trying not to laugh.

patrick just scoots in closer to him, pressing his toned stomach against art's back as he continues to work at his tense shoulder.

"you're okay, art. just let me help you, yeah?" he hums in his ear, sweetly condescending like he's talking to a toddler with a scraped knee.

"that's it, you're doing great."

art can sense distantly that he's being made fun of, but the words still make his cheeks flush and his dick hard in a matter of seconds. plus, the feeling of patrick's hot skin against his own is not helping in the slightest.

he whines when patrick hits a particularly sensitive spot, but he doesn't try to get away again. he knows the attempt would be futile. at this point, he's just focused on trying to find ways to keep his torturer from spotting his obvious hard-on.

"is it starting to feel okay?" patrick asks softly, wanting to make sure his treatment is actually working.

oh, if only he knew.

"yeah, fuck," art whimpers, the feeling of patrick's hands on him searing like they're branding his skin. "it's better, i think."

patrick laughs, digging in harder until art is almost writhing in his grasp.

"better isn't good enough, art. you're not getting out of this that easy," he says, and he keeps on going for a painfully long time.

the whole time he works, he's talking, making it impossible for art to get his fucking boner to go down. with the way patrick sits slightly taller than him, art keeps thinking there's no way he hasn't noticed by now. but neither of them dare to mention it.

"you're doing so good. just a little longer," patrick whispers, and art swears he must be doing it on purpose.

at some point the pain turns to relief which turns into pleasure, and all of a sudden he's biting his lip for an entirely different reason.

"yeah, there we go. that's it," patrick grins when art lets a little moan slip out by accident. "i told you i'd take care of you, didn't i?"

art moans again, leaning back into him involuntarily, and patrick takes it as an invitation to let his hands travel elsewhere.

now he's massaging art's other shoulder, and his sides and his lower back, and art's eyes are rolling back in his head because it just feels so good. not even because patrick is a particularly talented masseuse. it's just because he's patrick.

and his hands are so big and warm, and he's still fucking talking, telling art how good he was for him, and all of a sudden art's coming entirely untouched.

and patrick just watches it happen. he watches him whine and shake and he watches his eyelashes flutter uncontrollably, and he doesn't slow his hands down for even a second while art's breathing through the aftershocks.

he just watches, and when it's over he rests his head on art's now healed shoulder and just whispers, "don't worry, baby. thats perfectly normal. happens to the best of us, alright?"

and art just nods robotically, watching it leak from the leg of his boxers in shame.

'it's okay,' he thinks, his brain still fuzzy from the sudden orgasm. 'it's normal. . . it's not cuz' he said i was good. . . it's not.'

okay, that's it! part two, anyone?

XOXO ✨️💕