#we can definitely plot this out more <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[consultingfujoshi]

everyone else is giving their take on this so I feel as if I should too. I am angry about burt and irving now having two almost-kisses and them still finding a reason for them to never close that gap. like, yea it makes narrative sense that neither of those scenes contained a kiss, it's compelling even, if I view it objectively I actually love that because I care deeply about these characters and want them to be written realistically and with nuance.

but I am not gonna sit here and pretend that I'm fine with how this compares to the straight couples that have had so much more this season. if burt and irving's story existed in a bubble where markhelly and all the rest didn't serve as points of comparison I don't think I'd be half as upset at the way this ended. I'd be able to appreciate the impact of their being unable to kiss TWICE now in different universes because of forces outside of their control without looking across at every. single. other. couple. who are all straight. and going. why do they get that and we don't. why is it only the gay couple that have to be written "realistically" where they're still not ready to kiss. why can allowances and indulgences be made for dramatic effect for EVERYONE except them. I don't know if it's intentional homophobia, or queerbait, or if they're really just that squeamish about the idea of two old men kissing each other, but the double standard is there no matter the motivation behind it. and when you combine that with irving's innie being effectively killed off four episodes into the second season, and now his outie potentially written out of the show too, all I'm saying is it becomes hard to give them the benefit of the doubt.

we're all aware john turturro may not return for another season and that's why they felt the need to wrap up irving's two storylines somehow so they weren't left on a loose end should he decide not to come back, and I get that, and I'm glad there was some sense of finality to it, but then why not allow us just this one thing. just one moment of indulgence. because it might actually be our, and their, last chance. would it have killed them to just let them kiss this one time if there was a chance we'd never see them again, a chance they'd never see each other again. the truth is, no, it wouldn't have been hard at all. but they still made the decision to withhold that. because they can't allow us or them even the most basic kindness whilst handing the straight couples everything on a silver platter.

I'm not gonna get into the pacing issues of their relationship this season, how we jumped from them shyly asking each other out on another date to burt carrying out the hit on irving, how there feels like a missing scene in between those two events, because that relates to a wider problem with the structure of the show itself that is beyond the scope of this criticism. but i think it's telling that rather than giving us that extra time with them, they took a whole episode away from our main cast where even cobel got to kiss a one off male character that we will never hear from or see of again, and the supposed flagship romance of season 1 can't even get that. at what point am I allowed to call that thing in the corner that looks, acts, and talks like a duck a fucking duck?

if it sounds like I'm bitter, and jealous, it's because I am. because whether or not the double standard is intentional or not, it's still there. and I really did think a show that was able to present such special, compelling, meaningful queer characters would be a little more self aware about the message they're sending. and it fucking sucks that this has become just another show where I have to swallow my frustration and accept that they're not writing this for me. I and my fellow queer audience will never be the priority. even now we are still begging for scraps

[fushitoru]

i can't stop looking at his d—d—d—d—FACE!

pairings ⸺ (SEPERATE) boy next door!gojo x reader, wrestler!toji x reader, gym trainer!sukuna x reader, pizza delivery boy!choso x reader, husband's boss!nanami x reader, perv on train!geto x reader

summary ⸺ jjk men as overused p0rn/h3ntai plots! inspired by this awesome post by the talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular @/osamucide! pls check it out and the rest of his work :3

warnings ⸺ SMUT (mdni), consent is pre-established in all scenarios (but dub con just in case), everyone is of age (or older), exhibitionism, infidelity in nanami’s, pussy drunk men lol, not edited (as always), cowgirl, missionary, creampies, VERY public sex in toji’s, art by 3-aem, lmk if I’ve missed anything!

a/n lolll i'm ngl this was so fun to write. some of these scenarios are so funnny hELP. this one is also for some of the anons who are so obsessed w choso and sukuna in bridgerton au. wrote them for you 🫡 choso’s is my fav hehe

NEW: part 2 here

general masterlist

SUKUNA RYOMEN ⸺ HOTTIE'S PERSONAL TRAINER HAS A VERY HANDS ON APPROACH!

“Brat!” Sukuna’s voice cuts through the air like a whip. “Watch your back. You’re supposed to be hinging your hips back, not whatever lazy shit you were doing.”

He steps around to your side, the heavy thud of his boots on the gym floor adding to the oppressive weight of his presence. Squatting down, he sets his hips back in one smooth motion, demonstrating with sharp precision. “Like this. Not whatever the fuck that was.”

You glance at him, your legs trembling under you. Sweat clings to your skin, a thin sheen that feels heavy after the grueling thirty minutes with your personal trainer. Sukuna definitely takes the "tiger mom" approach, every tattoo on his body echoing the sharp, uncompromising authority in his eyes. Right now, those eyes bore into you, narrowed with impatience, his hands on his hips. His scowl is practically carved into his face—stone-hard and unmoving.

Breathing hard, you slump forward, hands gripping your knees as you gasp for air. Your heartbeat drums loudly in your ears. “Sukuna, g-give me a sec. I just—fuck—” You can barely string a sentence together between gulps of air. “I just maxed out. My legs are literally shaking.”

Sukuna clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment, but his voice softens—just a little. “Fine. Catch your breath. But as you do that, let’s practice proper form.”

You nod exhaustedly, not being able to think very clearly. Wiping the sweat to prevent it from getting into your eyes, you put your legs hip width apart as Sukuna gets behind you to observe your form. You bend down, trying to sit back onto your hips as best as possible, but as soon as your ass grazes Sukuna’s crotch, you lose the form in your back in surprise. “Sorry—”

“That was wrong.” Sukuna’s voice is in your ear as he puts his hands on your hips, and you are dizzy with the contact. “Here.” Both of you squat down, Sukuna’s hard body moving right behind you, and at the lowest position, Sukuna’s thumb roves over the fat of your ass, and they leave your hips to trace up your back. “Your back should be neutral, otherwise you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“O—okay,” you breathily reply, dizzy with the way he was touching you. If you listened closely, it almost sounded as if you were whimpering. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like Sukuna was more observant than you had hoped because he was looking at you in suspicion, eyes raking up and down your figure to observe your appearance. Disheveled, chest rising rapidly, sweat dripping right in the middle of your breasts—

Sukuna, out of nowhere, grabs your hand and begins walking away. “Come with me. You’re not doing them right.”

Soon, you’re led into one of the gym’s stretching rooms—the private ones, the ones meant for Sukuna to help you after the workout. 

“Sukuna, what are we—” you breathlessly ask, but you’re quickly shushed by Sukuna as he hoists himself on the massage table.

“Come here,” he motions to his lap, and you wordlessly follow his directions, sitting directly on top of his lap, gasping as you realize there’s a bulge making contact with your pussy. “We’re going to try an alternative way of doing squats, one that involves a bit more cardio.” He pulls down his sweatpants, blushing, furious cock springing out as he pulls down your yoga pants.

Soon, you’re moaning as you slowly take in his cock, sliding down as his precum and your copious amount of slick mix and drip onto his pelvis. Your feet are on either side of his legs, making you squat every time you lower yourself down on his length.

“Fuck! You’re so tight.” He slaps your ass as you bounce yourself rapidly on his cock. “Pretended to not know how to squat just for me to put this fat cock in you, isn’t that right?”

You didn’t have the capacity to answer, just moan as his cock hits your spot. Unsatisfied with your pace, Sukuna flips you both over until your back is on the table. 

“Oh fuck yea,” Sukuna pants, hips pistoning into you rapidly, effectively fucking you into the table, and his quads are bulging in sheer strength as they clench and unclench in reflection of his pleasure. “Didn’t know my client had such a sweet pussy.”

KAMO CHOSO ⸺ SHE ORDERS BIG SAUSAGE PIZZA AND GETS HER DEEP DICK CRAVINGS FILLED! (the title is so ridiculous im crying)

“Your total’s $14.93. You’re five bucks short.” The delivery boy—an emo looking guy with hair in space buns—responds to the wad of cash and coins you had just given him. He couldn’t look any less bored than he was as he stared down impassively at you, hot, steaming pizza in one hand.

"Wait, but I ordered a small?" You ask him in confusion. "I couldn't possibly finish a large one by myself!"

He pulls out your receipt from where it was tucked into the pizza box. "Your order said a large." Upon glancing on it, you look that he was indeed correct—right next to your pizza, the size LARGE glared at you through the sheen of the reciept's paper.

"Oh," You said, dumbly, blinking in confusion. "Well, I can pay the rest in card if that's okay."

You get an impassive "I don't have a card reader."

"Oh, okay," you laugh nervously, hand going up to scratch the back of your head and fiddle with the rest of your fingers. "Okay, well," you squinted at his nametag, "Choso, let me just check the remaining cash I have. You can come inside if you'd like." 

He comes inside, dropping off the pizza you ordered on your kitchen counter as he makes his way to sit on your couch. You go to your bedroom, checking your desk drawer for any loose cash you may have stored but to no avail. Heart racing and nervous, you frantically search the upper shelf of your room, on your tiptoes as you look for your money jar, praying that there was a 5 dollar piece of cash lying around. Instead, your fingers crash against some book propped on it, tumbling down onto the floor with a large thud!

You hear footsteps coming up to your bedroom door. Choso, standing near the door. "You good?"

"Yea," you strain, still reaching up high to grasp at the jar. "I'm just trying to find somethi—”

The heat of Choso's body surrounds you as he presses closer to you, reaching up effortlessly to grab at the money jar. His groin presses against your backside, acutely aware of his breaths as he passes you the jar. 

Which is empty.

"Fuck!" you curse. You turn, looking at Choso in anxiousness, as you notice he hasn't backed away at all. "I'm sorry, but is there any alternative way to pay for the pizza? Again, I'm really really sorry for the hassle."

"You have to pay for the food in some sort of way," he says with a stony face. Your mind is racing, thinking of ways you could pay but coming up short.

As a result, you end up with your face stuffed against your pillow, the hot delivery boy plowing and drilling his cock into you. 

"Fuck, so irresponsible. Couldn't even pay for the pizza she ordered without a stranger's cock inside of her." At his dirty talk, you whimper and squeeze your pussy, Choso groaning as a result.

"What was that?" He grabs your hair and pulls your face up as his tongue traces the frame of your ear. "What were you trying to say, you cockslut?"

"'M sorry!" You squealed and babbled, eliciting little ah! ah! ah!'s as he continues bumping his cockhead against the gooey spot inside your pussy.

"Yea, you better be. Wasting my fucking time. I'm going to come inside, got it?" Choso growls as he continues pistoning his hips inside.

GETO SUGURU ⸺ ANIME GIRL GETS HER PUSSY FINGERED ON PUBLIC TRAIN!

He pulls you in for a deep kiss while rutting inside you. "Aren't you my good girl? Taking this cock for me like a good girl?" You squeal, blabbering nonsense as he fucks you into next Tuesday…

You read the smut from your favorite author on Tumblr, devouring each word while remaining stony faced as the train rocked underneath your feet. In the corner facing the doors, you made sure that you were angled in such a way that no one would be able to see the filthy things you were reading on your screen. 

However, the metro was slowing down and you looked up quickly—which was painful, considering you were so invested in the story—to make sure it wasn't your stop. As the rush of foot traffic simultaneously populated and vacated the metro, you paid no attention to the people behind you. After all, other people would be too busy on their phones to see what you were reading, right?

"You're going to take this cum, right? I'm going to breed you, my sweet, sweet girl." He laughs.  You take a moment to take in his pretty features. Long hair, beautiful face, all filled with lust for you...

You scan the words, blush evident on your face as your favorite writer has done it yet again. Adjusting, you squeezed your thighs for relief and toyed with the hem of your skirt, failing to notice the soft breaths trailing down the back of your neck just because of how enthralled and taken you were with the plot.

And then, a hand trailed up your thigh, catching you by alarm. You almost drop your phone in your rush to turn and look at the creep that was touching you, ready to beat the shit out of him. 

But when you do turn, you stop and widen your eyes. The man in front of you seems even prettier than the fictional man you were reading about, and you take him in as he rubs circles on your thigh. His sultry eyes rake down your figure, his lips pulled back in a knowing smirk. "That's some filthy shit you're reading."

Looking at him, your heart starts beating faster solely because of the promise of what his hands would do as they were currently softly stroking your thighs, getting closer and closer to going under your shirt. "I—I—uh sorry—I—"

"It's okay, pretty girl." He gives you a kiss on the side of your neck. "Continue reading it. Can you do that, baby?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Coincidentally, you're at the part where the man helps the girl masturbate, rubbing and teasing her pussy up and down. The man behind you does the same, teasing your lips while refusing to delve inside your panties, no matter how badly you want him to do.

"That feel good?"

You whimper. "Yes—ah—it feels good. Please touch me on my pussy directly. Please."

The man behind you chuckles, and your knees buckle at how rich his voice is. You would join a cult for this man. "Since you asked so nicely, I will. Call me Suguru."

His fingers pull your panties aside and enters, soon knuckle deep inside your cunt, and as quietly as you can, you moan his name as he continues fingering you in front of all the strangers on the train. His hips press closer to your ass, and you throb even more at the huge bulge he’s sporting. He’s sloppily licking on the outside of your ear, right where you’re sensitive, and you shiver and lose yourself in the pressure even more.

The pleasure was building in you steadily and Suguru groans. “That’s right, take it all.”

You almost jump when the PA sounds. "The next stop is Shinjuku."

“That’s my stop. You have to cum before then, or you won’t be able to cum,” Suguru whispers in your ear, speeding up and hitting your g-spot with precision. There are tears forming in your eyes as you make an effort to stay quiet, especially with Suguru giving seductive kisses to your sensitive neck. 

“Fuck, you got so tight,” he groans. “Gonna cum?” He uses his thumb to rub fast circles on your clit, and you see stars. 

“I will—I will,” you cry, as the throbbing and pulsing sensation grows faster and faster until finally, you cum with a muffled cry, because Suguru has his fingers in your mouth to ensure you don’t scream out on this very, very public train.  “Squeezing my fingers so much, relax,” Suguru laughs, popping his slick-coated fingers in his mouth. “You gonna do that to my dick next?”

NANAMI KENTO ⸺ BEAUTIFUL WIFE HAS TO FUCK HER HUSBAND'S BOSS! (NTR)

“Mr. Nanami,” you scrape a hand through your hair and clear your throat. “You wanted to see me?” 

For a moment, your husband’s handsome boss eyes you down, catching on the top button of your blouse currently unbuttoned. You mainly did it because of nervousness, the heat of the room escalating with Nanami Kento’s presence. After a long bout of intimidating silence, he finally speaks. “I assume you can guess why you are here?”

You bounce your knee as you sit across from the man, and you suddenly start sweating. Of course you can guess. Your bum of a husband—the one currently under your charge—neglects to do his deliverables, choosing to take comfort in the fact that you were his higher-up to trust that he would not be getting terminated for his lack of responsibility. 

But what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been begging Nanami not to fire him, despite the propelling and clear reasons to do so. And you fear the day he finally chooses to stop listening to you. 

“Team leader, I’m going to need much more convincing. Your team has been decreasing in productivity ever since your husband joined, and it’s hindering the company,” he reminds you stoically. “I’ve seen you working overtime far too frequently to cover up for your spouse’s negligence.”

You wish time would speed up just to get this difficult conversation with. “I—I’m going to be honest, Mr. Nanami. I don’t have much warrant to continue having him on the team, but it would put my family in much…emotional conflict if this were to happen.” The said emotional conflict would really only be from your husband. You’re sure he’s going to take this as an excuse to drink himself silly, blaming you for not being able to keep him employed. Your throat dries as you finally meet eyes with your boss, silently pleading him to come up with a solution.

“I see.” Nanami crosses his arms. “I suppose there is a…favor you could do for me.”

At that, you perk up and nod your head frantically. “Of course. Anything.”

Which is why you find yourself bent over Nanami’s desk, his cock drilling inside you. He’s ripped your stockings, pulled up your miniskirt, and put your panties to the side as he moans about how sweet your pussy feels. “I’ve been waiting for this forever. Tell me, is my cock better than his?”

“It is!” you squeal. “You’re so—so big!”

Nanami moans as he ruts inside you, your walls squeezing him tight. “Darling, I c—can tell he doesn’t treat you right. You are so tight around me, pussy’s been waiting for a while for a real man.” 

You moan and curse, blabbering affirmations while his dick impales you. Even though Nanami is the one who’s owed the favor here, his hands wind their way around your body to rub at your clit, simulating you even more, making you sob. “Please don’t stop!”

“I won’t ever, sweetheart,” he pants. “I’m going to finish inside her, okay? Make sure to keep it in when you go home and greet your husband.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI ⸺ BABE GETS IMMEDIATELY DESTROYED IN NAKED WRESTLING (WITH AN AUDIENCE) (find extended ver here!)

Cheers surround you as you step into the arena. You know who your opponent is—-Fushiguro Toji. Even when you looked at his pictures earlier, you knew you were doomed. No matter what angle the photographer took the photos in, his muscles seemed to be bulging, effectively spelling out the sore defeat you were about to face today.

And there he is. Him in the flesh. He’s leaning against the boxing ring’s outer borders, head tilted back lazily while his manager, Shiu, was informing him quickly (and intensely) about the rules of today.

Nothing crazy. Only fuck when all clothes are off of her.

The way his neck is tilted back, compression shirt showing off his upper physique made you weak in the knees already. Additionally, judging based off of the bulge he seemed to be sporting in his grey sweatpants, you knew you were doubly fucked.

Shiu seems to be done talking, so he steps back and takes a seat. Toji leans his head back, rolling his neck to stretch it out, and in the middle of doing so, catches your eye.

You almost drench your panties.

His eyes darken, giving you a sultry look as he cheekily winks. While his cocky demeanor was warranted (he was much stronger and bigger than you), your cheeks heated up in both arousal and irritation.

The sound of a whistle is heard as music starts to play. The stadium’s screens flashes the cocky image of Toji, who saunters in the middle of the ring, flexing his muscles to his screaming fans.

When your signature theme plays, you do the same, to no shortage of fans yourself. You can feel everyone in the stadium, especially your male fans, rove over your figure. You’re wearing a very low cut top that displays the swell of your boobs and even tighter shorts that squeeze your ass and show off the shape of your pussy. As you walk towards Toji, you can feel his heavy gaze on you as you nervously shake his hand.

“Try to last long, okay?” Toji smirks, patting your shoulder. “I’ll try to drag this out as much as I can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”

You glare at him, but there’s not much intensity there. “Yea, yea,” you huff. “For all I know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”

And the fucker’s smile widens. “Let the games begin.”

Soon enough, the sound of the whistle draws you towards each other, keeping each other in a lock to tackle the other down in an objective to take off layers of their clothing. Your fans cheer when you have Toji underneath you for a split second, only for female ones to become more riotous as he easily overtakes you, pins your hands down, and wrenches your shorts off of you.

“Toji is currently in the lead!” The announcer’s voice in the stadium echoes of your defeat as you flail around, now bottoms only covered by your panties. Deciding to pull out your signature move, you maneuver so your thighs surround Toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. This momentarily distracts and weakens Toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. You quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. The whole stadium, in fact, can his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.

Your attention is back to Toji as he chuckles darkly. “You’re going to regret that. I was going to drag this out, princess, but I gotta fuck the brat out of you.” With that, he puts his whole body weight on you and strips you down one by one.

The arena cheers as your lace bra is uncovered, your sweat shining on the screen as your breasts are displayed. Toji then unhooks your bra, and the roars get even louder as your tits pop out. He takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “What a sensitive girl,” he coos. “Too bad she was too weak. Now she’s going through to have to take my cock.

With that, he finally unveils your glistening pussy for all eyes to see and the crowd goes wild, chanting for Toji to finish inside you. Toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees and pulls down his pants.

You don’t look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs.

“Fuck.” And Toji’s slowly entering you, the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “The fuck this pussy’s so tight for? Thought you were a slut?”

You’re tearing up, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “You’re not turning me on, small dick.”

He did not like that very much.

Toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “Yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? Why is she dripping? Just for that, I’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.”

The crowd chants cum, cum, cum! and Toji just does that. Ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear Toji declared as winner.

GOJO SATORU ⸺ GIRL GETS FUCKED BY PEEPING TOM NEXT DOOR!

You sigh, extending your back and un clipping your bra, letting your tits bounce free after a long, long week of college. It was finally Friday night, and with no one in the house due to a party the rest of your family was attending, you could finally enjoy your time home on the holidays, starting with a solo session.

You clench your thighs in anticipation as you scrolled your phone, seeking an audio you could masturbate to. And you were close to finding one, until you felt eyes on you.

These eyes were nothing new. The boy next door, Gojo Satoru, has also been your crush since middle school. Even though neither of you have ever made a move, you’ve made bold moves since starting college, stripping with the blinds open to give him a show. You had kind of had a sixth sense as to when the fucker would start watching you, and it flared as you slowly dragged your hands down. Bending over and shaking your ass, you slipped your skimpy shorts down your legs, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy.

But masturbating wasn’t enough for today. None of the college frat bros could make you cum, no matter how much they boasted about their fuckin roster, and you were tired of Satoru just watching. Just seeing him work out shirtless in his lawn, sun shining his sweat to give him a golden halo, was enough to make you sick, hungry for his dick. The way he was so shy and the mannerisms he had (as a loser) let you know he had a big fucking dick.

Needless, to say, you were tired of just fantasizing and speculating about his dick. Turning around, the moonlight allowed you to see the silhouette of his wrist moving up and down his length, even if he had tried to make his best effort to darken his rooms. Putting on your best show of an angry face, you grab your phone aggressively and dial his number.

The line rings, and he picks up. “Hey,” and you can tell he’s a little breathless. “long time no see. What’s up?”

“Cut the fucking act out,” you spit. “I know you’ve been fucking watching me, perv.”

Satoru’s panic is comically obvious over the phone as he rushes his words. “Wait, wait—listen, I—I can explain.”

“On how you’re being a peeping tom?” You glare at his window. “Come over, Gojo. Then I’ll listen to your fucking explanation.”

One thing leads to another, and now you’re spread out on your childhood bed, Gojo whimpering and whining as he plows his dick into your pussy. “You feel so—so good. M’ sorry—sorry for doing that. Your pussy is too good for me to look at.”

You laugh meanly and grab his chin. “You feel sorry yet, you pervert?” And Satoru can only cry out as you yank his head. “Remember, this is the only fucking thing you’re good at. Being my glorified dildo. Got it? Now, you’re going to fill me up only after you make me cum at least two times.”

a/n yea this was depraved….lmk what yall think tho 😭

comment and reblog I’d love to hear your thoughts! (also, requests are open heheh)

NEW: part 2 here!

[ggukivrse]

JUST THIS ONCE | JJK

summary. when you complain to jungkook about your lack of action in the past year, you're not really asking for a solution. but when he casually offers to help, you just can't seem to bring yourself to say no.

after all, what's the worst that could happen in hooking up just this once?

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff (?)

word count: 5.1k

warnings: you’re gonna get sick of the title loll, brief alcohol consumption, this is lowkey pwp (there will be more plot soon i promise) swearing, explicit sexual content, kissing, making out, fingering, oral (m. receiving), he’s very cocky but also pathetic, multiple orgasms, lots of banter and teasing as dirty talk, petnames (baby), jk calls oc a brat x2, multiple positions, insinuated aftercare, let me know if i missed anything!

notes: you guys built this fic!! this was supposed to be out on thursday but i realised i was being wayy to ambitious cuz i definitely needed more than two days to write this loll. but alas, it’s here :3 as always, likes, comments, reblogs, feedback and asks are very appreciated! enjoy reading angels <33

ps. THERE WILL BE A PART TWO!!

⌗ masterlist. ⌗ taglist. ⌗ feedback

You fumble with your keys, swaying just slightly as you try to jab the right one into the lock. Behind you, Jungkook’s laughing under his breath, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath on the back of your neck.

“Need help?” he asks, the amusement in his voice unmistakable.

“I’ve got it,” you say, jabbing the key with exaggerated precision. The door finally clicks open, and you push it in with a triumphant, “Ha!”

“You’re so competent,” he deadpans, clapping a mock applause as he follows you in. His shoulder bumps yours as he passes. “It’s honestly inspiring.”

You kick off your shoes, tossing your keys into the bowl by the door. “And you’re so annoying,” you mutter, but there’s no heat in it.

Jungkook drops onto your couch like it’s his own, sprawling out like he owns the place. Which, in some ways, he kind of does.

A hoodie of his is already slung over the back of a kitchen chair, from some night two weeks ago when he stayed too late and decided not to drive home. There’s an energy drink in your fridge with his name written on the lid in Sharpie. The blanket he’s tugging over his lap? That’s the one he gifted you for Christmas, mostly so he could use it whenever he came over.

It’s always been like this.

He tosses his denim jacket on the couch as you grab two bottles of water from the fridge, chucking one to him without warning. He catches it with the ease.

“You were definitely flirting with that bartender,” he says, unscrewing the cap and looking at you with that maddeningly smug smile.

You scoff. “He had a mullet and called me ‘miss.’ It wasn’t flirting— it was survival.”

“Sure,” he says, nodding like he totally believes you. “That’s why you laughed at everything he said, even when he asked if you liked your tequila neat.”

“It was neat!” you say, defensive and laughing at the same time. “And besides, you flirted with the girl in the fishnets for, like, an hour.”

He shrugs. “Guilty. She had good taste in music. And thighs.”

You groan and flop down beside him on the couch, letting your head fall back against the cushion. Your thigh brushes his, but you don’t move. Neither does he. The buzz from the party is still warm in your blood, and the apartment feels too quiet now — too intimate without the noise and lights and other bodies.

“You ever think we’re just... really bad at dating?” you ask, staring at the ceiling.

“Constantly,” Jungkook says, without hesitation.

You glance at him. “Like, maybe we peaked in college.”

He makes a face. “Don’t say that. I refuse to believe my best years happened while I was still eating instant ramen and failing comp sci.”

You laugh, and he turns his head toward you, watching you with that soft-eyed expression you know too well. There’s something about Jungkook when he’s like this — no bravado, no teasing smirk, just... present. His hair is a mess from the wind, and a dark tank top hugs his figure.

He’s too comfortable here. Too familiar.

“I genuinely think I’ve forgotten what a good kiss feels like,” you say, mostly to the ceiling, like it’s a throwaway thought.

Jungkook hums. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s not even bad, it’s just...” You trail off, searching for the word. “Empty. Mechanical. Like everyone’s going through the motions, but nobody’s actually there.”

He shifts slightly, angling his body more toward you. “So no decent kissers at all lately?”

You shake your head. “No decent anything, if I’m honest.”

He raises an eyebrow, curious.

You hesitate, but the alcohol in your system makes it easier to say what you probably wouldn’t sober. “I haven’t slept with anyone in like... almost a year.”

Jungkook blinks, not in judgment, just surprised. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” You rub at your temple with a laugh. “I didn’t plan it or anything. It just kind of... kept not happening. And then it became this weird streak, and now here we are.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“Well,” he says eventually, “maybe your standards are just too high.”

“Or maybe men are just mid,” you shoot back.

That gets a laugh out of him, loud and bright. He tips his head back, and you watch his throat move as he laughs. Too long. Too hard. When he calms down, he gives you a look — something mischievous that you've grown to know too well over the years.

"What?" you ask, narrowing your eyes at him with a smile.

He shrugs. “I mean... I could help."

“With my standards?”

“With the streak.”

You snort. “What, you offering?”

“Maybe.”

You tilt your head. “So what? You wanna bang it out?”

It’s meant to be funny. You’re grinning when you say it. But when you look at him — really look — he’s not laughing.

His gaze lingers on your mouth for a beat too long. Then his eyes flick up to yours.

“Just this once?” he asks, voice low. Careful. Like he’s giving you an out.

You don’t answer right away. The room goes still. The hum of the fridge feels too loud. His eyes are still on you, and it’s not a look you’ve ever seen from him before.

Your heart stutters in your chest.

You swallow. “Wouldn't it be weird?”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t look away.

“Only if we let it be.”

You sit there for a second, the weight of it all hitting a little too fast. Your brain’s still catching up to your mouth, to the way your body’s buzzing — not from the alcohol anymore, but from him. From the heat in his eyes, the way he said it — almost like a dare.

And then his expression shifts.

His eyes flick away, and his tongue runs over the silver ring on his bottom lip, like he’s pulling it back, reeling it in.

“Only if you want to, obviously,” he says, quieter this time. “We don’t have to.”

He starts to lean back like he's resetting the mood — like this moment can still be folded back into the safety of your usual teasing — but you stop him.

You move first.

You grab the front of his tank top — not hard, not dramatic, just enough — and you pull him in.

You kiss him.

It’s abrupt. Heat over hesitation. A split-second decision that tastes like tequila and impulse, like comfort and fuck it all wrapped up in the same breath.

At first, he doesn’t move, frozen in surprise. But then he kisses you back — really kisses you back — and suddenly you're not thinking anymore.

His hand slides to your thigh, just enough pressure to ground you, and you shift toward him instinctively, knees brushing his. His mouth moves against yours with a kind of focused laziness, like he’s savouring it. Like he’s trying to figure out exactly how you taste.

You pull back half a second, just to breathe, lips brushing his as you mutter, “Took you long enough.”

He laughs into your mouth, low and smug. “You kissed me.”

“Yeah, well. You looked like you were gonna bail.”

“I was being respectful,” he says, voice muffled against your jaw as he starts kissing along it. “But sure, let’s call it bailing.”

You gasp a little when he nips at your neck, just enough pressure to make you arch toward him. Your hands slide under his top, fingers skimming the warm skin of his back, and he shivers under your touch.

“Jesus,” you murmur. “How are you this built? You eat, like, gas station snacks and leftover noodles.”

“I work out,” he mutters between kisses, grinning as he drags his mouth back to yours. “Also, you’ve seen me shirtless.”

“Yeah, but not like this.”

“Like what?”

You tug him closer until your chest presses to his. “Like I get to touch.”

That shuts him up real quick.

He kisses you again, this time more urgently, and you feel the change in the air — less teasing, more want. Your legs shift to straddle his lap without thinking, your hands sliding up into his hair, tugging just a little.

He groans, deep and rough, biting down on your bottom lip before kissing it better. You rock your hips forward slightly and he bucks up into you with a hiss.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he mutters, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

You smirk against his mouth. “You offered, remember?”

“Yeah, and I’m rapidly realising that was a dangerous choice.”

You laugh, breathless, before kissing him again. He tastes like beer and something sweeter — probably the gum he always chews. You bite his lip and feel him groan into your mouth, hips jerking beneath you.

His fingers slip under your shirt, warm on your skin. Not rushed, just exploring — like he’s been curious for a while and is finally allowed to look.

You roll your hips again, slower this time, and his head drops back against the cushion with a low fuck that makes your stomach flip.

“You still sure about this?” you ask, teasing, as your hands drag down his chest, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

His eyes open — dark, focused, amused.

“You gonna stop me if I say no?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

“Then yeah,” he says, breath hitching as your fingers reach his abdomen. “I’m very sure.”

He catches your fingers before you can finish unbuttoning his jeans.

You raise a brow, breath still uneven. “Seriously?”

He nods, steady, calm in a way that only makes your pulse pound harder. “I said I was helping you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I thought that was like... a mutual helping situation.”

His mouth twitches. “You always gotta argue when I’m trying to do something nice?”

You open your mouth to throw something back — something biting, something stupid — but he leans in and kisses you before you can get the words out. One hand still wrapped around your wrist, the other cupping your jaw.

He pulls back just enough to speak.

“Let me take care of you.”

You stare at him for a beat, heart kicking hard in your chest.

“Fine,” you mutter, trying to sound unbothered. “But don't expect any thank yous or shit.”

“I’ll survive,” he says, already smirking as his fingers work at your jeans. “Though, for the record, I think you’re gonna want to.”

You snort — right before he pops the button of your jeans and drags the zipper down, knuckles brushing your skin. You shiver.

“God, you’re cocky.”

He glances up, eyes flicking to yours. “You saying I haven’t earned it?”

You don’t answer. Your breath stutters when his hand slips beneath the waistband of your panties, palm flush against you.

He stills.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, voice dropping. “You’re wet already?”

“Shut up.”

He smiles cockily.

You roll your eyes — try to, anyway — but your thighs are already parting, your body moving without conscious thought. His fingers slide into you, testing the waters, and your head tips back with a soft sigh.

He watches your face like he’s waiting for something. When your mouth parts, when your hips twitch toward his hand, that’s when he moves.

His thumb finds your bud and he's gentle at first. Circling, then rubbing just a little firmer. You bite your lip hard, trying not to give him the satisfaction of the noises building in your throat.

“Still not thanking you,” you say through clenched teeth.

“Oh, you will,” he says, low. “Eventually.”

You glare at him. He grins back, fingers dragging lower, slipping in without resistance. You suck in a breath, and he laughs softly under it.

“Okay?” he asks, suddenly serious again.

You nod, maybe too quickly. “Yeah. More than okay.”

He starts moving his fingers — slow at first, too slow. Like he’s enjoying making you wait. You squirm, trying to rock your hips into his hand, but he tightens his grip on your thigh.

“Nuh-uh,” he says, eyes gleaming. “You’re letting me do the work, remember?”

“I hate you.”

“You’re literally grinding on my hand right now.”

You reach out blindly and smack his chest. He doesn’t even flinch — just slips another finger in, and your breath catches so hard it punches the air from your lungs.

“There it is,” he murmurs.

His thumb picks up a rhythm again, and the pressure starts to build fast. He knows it, too. His free hand slides around your waist, steadying you as your body starts to shake. Your fist curls into the soft fabric of his top, needing something to hold onto.

“Still hate me?” he asks, voice rougher now, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“Don’t flatter yourself— fuck—”

“Yeah?” His fingers curl just right, and your whole body tenses. “Right there?”

You nod, desperate, eyes squeezed shut. Your thighs are shaking. You’re so close you can’t even keep up the bit.

“Say it,” he says.

“Say what?”

“Tell me how good I make you feel.”

You groan. “Jesus, Jungkook—”

He slows down suddenly, barely moving his hand.

You whine. Actually whine.

“That’s not what I asked for.”

“God, you’re annoying,” you say, breathless.

He grins. “You're the one being the brat here.”

You drag your eyes open and glare at him, but it’s all heat now. All want. You lean in close, lips pressing against his.

"Fuck— fine. You feel so fucking good, Kook. Please, just don't stop."

He doesn’t.

He kisses you hard and fast, and his fingers start again, slick and firm and relentless. Your body clenches around him and this time, you don’t even try to hold the sounds back. His name leaves your mouth like muscle memory, and he groans into your kiss, like he’s the one coming undone.

When you break the kiss to suck in air, he presses his forehead to yours, voice rough in your ear.

“That’s it. Let go for me.”

You do.

Your body arches, thighs trembling as the orgasm washes over you sharp and fast. Your fingers dig into his back, into his top, into anything that keeps you tethered.

He doesn’t stop until you’re gasping, twitching, pushing his hand away because you’re too sensitive now.

He pulls back finally, breath warm against your skin, his fingers wet. He looks at you, gaze heavy, lips parted.

Then, without a word, he brings his fingers to your mouth.

“Open,” he says, low and steady.

You blink at him, your body still humming, brain half-melted. “What—?”

He brushes two slick fingers against your bottom lip, and your mouth parts on instinct.

“You said no thank yous,” he says, smirking. “So this’ll do.”

You glare at him, but your lips close around his fingers anyway. He watches every second — the way your mouth wraps around them, the way your tongue slides against the pads. His expression flickers from cocky to wrecked.

“Shit,” he mutters, voice rough now, the smugness cracking around the edges.

You suck once, slow and purposeful, eyes locked on his, and he jerks slightly under you — hips twitching like your mouth is on him instead. When you pull off with a soft pop, your lips are swollen and wet.

“You said mutual help,” you murmur, breath still catching on the end of every word. “It’s your turn.”

He blinks, like he’s short-circuiting.

You slide off his lap slowly, hands dragging down his chest, and his breath catches when you settle between his legs on your knees. You palm him over his jeans, and he hisses, already hard under your touch.

“Fuck,” he mutters, head tipping back.

“You okay there?” you ask, voice sweet, taunting. “Or do you need me to go slower?”

He looks down at you, pupils blown, jaw clenched. “Don’t be a brat.”

You unbutton his jeans, real slow, enjoying the way he twitches under your hands. “No promises.”

You drag the zipper down, tugging his jeans and boxers low enough to free him. He’s flushed and heavy, tip already glistening, and you swear you see his hips flex at just the sight of your mouth this close.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “You look way too good down there.”

You wrap your hand around his cock, giving one slow stroke, and he groans like it surprises him.

You start slow. Just your hand. Thumb brushing over the sensitive ridge under the head, watching his thighs tense beneath your touch. His head drops back against the couch cushion, and you feel the way his hips subtly shift toward you, like his body’s trying to chase more without him even realising it.

You lean in and lick a slow stripe from base to tip, tongue flat, deliberate. His breath catches — then shudders out of him like you’ve knocked the air from his lungs.

“Shit,” he mutters again, voice strained.

You hum like you agree, and wrap your lips around the head, just barely. You suck, not hard — just enough to make him twitch. Your hand works in tandem, slow, steady strokes, and your mouth follows, inching lower until the tip presses against the back of your throat.

He moans, raw and wrecked. “Fuck, baby—”

The pet name is barely more than a gasp, almost like it slipped out without permission. Your stomach flips at the sound it.

His voice borders on the line of sounding pathetic, and it makes you want to press your thighs together.

You fall into rhythm — your lips sliding over him, tongue pressed firm underneath, hand twisting where your mouth leaves off. Every now and then, you let yourself get sloppy. Let the sound of it echo between you, let him hear what he’s doing to you.

He’s falling apart above you. You can tell by the way his hand flexes and releases in your hair, the way his thighs tremble every time you sink a little deeper. He’s breathing hard now, jaw slack, eyes barely open. Watching you. Like he still can’t believe this is real.

“God, your mouth—” His voice cuts off into a moan when you swallow around him, deep and slow. "You're gonna be the death of me."

You pull off just long enough to breathe, lips slick, chin wet. “You deserve it.”

He laughs, but it breaks halfway through. Your hand doesn’t stop moving.

“You like watching me fall apart, huh?”

You look up through your lashes, tongue flicking over the head. “More than a little.”

You go back down — deeper this time — and he chokes on a groan. His hips jerk up too sharply and he curses, hands fisting hard in your hair.

“Shit— I’m—” He’s panting now, thighs shaking. “I’m not gonna last if you keep— fuck, don’t—”

You suck harder, then moan around him just to hear the sound he makes. It’s almost a whimper.

“Baby, stop— wait— fuck— please—”

You pull off with a wet pop just before he tips over the edge, lips red and swollen, saliva clinging to your chin. He’s barely keeping it together. Chest heaving, flushed to the neck, cock twitching where it rests against his stomach.

“You were right there,” you say, feigning innocence, voice soft and ruined.

“Exactly," he says, sitting up. "I'm not done with you yet."

He drags the fabric of his top over his head, tossing it aside without a second thought. The moment it’s off, your breath catches.

Fuck.

He’s all golden skin and sharp lines, chest heaving, abs flexing with every breath. His tattoos curl over his shoulder and down his arm, black ink stark against flushed skin. His cock’s still hard, flushed dark, resting against his stomach, twitching when he sees the way you’re looking at him.

And you — still kneeling between his legs — can’t look away.

Then you rise, shaky but determined, and pull your top over your head, letting it fall. His eyes snap to your chest, lips parting like he’s just been punched in the gut. You're movements are purposefully slow as you pull down your jeans, then your panties.

“Jesus,” he mutters, eyes dragging down your body. “You’re a fucking dream.”

You crawl back into his lap, your bare skin meeting his, and the contact makes both of you gasp. You straddle him, knees on either side of his thighs, and he groans the moment your heat presses against his cock.

He fumbles for a condom, pulling it out from an inner pocket in the jacket he’d draped onto the couch earlier.

You watch as he tears it open and rolls it on, fingers practiced but tense. You reach between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance, and the second his tip slides against your soaked folds, his grip tightens on your hips.

“Fuck,” he mutters, voice shaking.

You sink down slowly, inch by thick inch, and your nails bite into his shoulders as you stretch around him. He’s big — your pussy gripping him tight, wet and pulsing as he fills you up. Every nerve lights up, every breath gets harder to catch.

“Holy fuck—” His head drops to your chest, groaning against your skin. “You’re so tight. So fucking warm. Gonna make me lose it.”

You whimper as you bottom out, walls fluttering around him. You can feel every vein, every twitch. It’s almost too much. Almost.

But not enough.

You start to move — slow, dragging lifts of your hips, circling them on the way back down. He watches, hands clamped on your ass, guiding the grind of your body like he already knows how to make you fall apart again.

You ride him, pace picking up fast, desperate. Every time your hips drop, the base of his cock grinds against your clit, slick sounds filling the room with every slap of skin against skin. His cock hits deep, stretching you wide, and a moan passes your lips.

He groans are low and guttural, eyes locked to where your bodies meet. “Goddamn, baby. Watching you fuck yourself on my cock— shit— never gonna forget this.”

You’re panting now, thighs burning, rhythm faltering. You try to keep going, but your legs are shaking.

He notices.

Without a word, he shifts under you, plants his feet flat on the floor, and grabs your hips tight.

“Let me help you, yeah?”

You nod. “Please.”

He starts thrusting up into you.

You cry out, spine arching, hands flying to his shoulders to hold on as he fucks you from underneath, sharp and deep. His hips snap up into you, cock pressing into your sweet spot over and over again.

The new angle is obscene. Filthy.

“Fuck, Jungkook— holy shit—”

He smirks up at you, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. “That’s it. Take it, baby. Look at you— so cockdrunk already.”

Your pussy clenches around him, soaked and messy, and the sound of it is downright pornographic. His balls slap against your ass with every brutal thrust, and you can’t even think anymore. Just feel.

Your head falls back, hips rocking with his. “W-we’re still best friends, right, Kook?”

His rhythm stutters, hips slamming up too hard, too deep, and his jaw drops slightly like he’s not sure if he actually heard you right. His pupils are blown, face flushed, and he stares at you like you just kicked the last brain cell out of his skull.

“What the fuck,” he pants. “You can’t say that. Not when I’m— fuck— inside you.”

You whimper, walls clenching around him like your body’s reacting to how wrecked he sounds.

“That’s so fucked up,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Say it again and I might actually come on the spot.”

You huff out a weak laugh at that, hands tangling in his hair, and he groans, fucking you harder, deeper — like he needs to wipe the thought of friendship off your brain with every snap of his hips.

“Y-Yeah,” you gasp. “So close, fuck— don’t stop—”

He doesn’t. One hand slips between your bodies, fingers rubbing tight, fast circles over your clit while he pounds into you. You sob his name, hips stuttering, body locking up.

“Come on,” he grits out. “Wanna feel you squeeze me.”

That’s all it takes.

You break with a cry, body clamping down around him as your orgasm hits like a fucking freight train. Your pussy pulses around his cock, milking him, soaking him, your whole body shuddering with the force of it.

He slows just a little — just enough to let you ride it out — but he doesn’t pull out. He’s still hard inside you, jaw tight, eyes blown wide.

You collapse forward, panting into his neck, spent.

His hands slide down your spine, warm and possessive. “You good?”

You nod, still breathless. “Yeah. Jesus.”

"Good." He swiftly lifts you off him just enough to slip out, and you whimper at the sudden emptiness. But he doesn’t give you time to think.

He shifts, guiding you onto your back, his body following yours down to the couch. His hands frame your face as he settles between your legs, and when he presses back into you — thick and hard.

His eyes roam over you like he’s never seen anything more obscene or more beautiful. Your lips are swollen, parted in a messy moan. There’s a faint smudge of mascara under one eye from when you’d cried out his name, and your skin’s glowing — sweaty, flushed, wrecked.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he says, voice gone rough. “All fucked out for me.”

You pull him down into a kiss before you can think. It’s open-mouthed, greedy, teeth clashing a little. His hips start to move again, slow at first — long, deep thrusts that make your breath catch every time he bottoms out.

You wrap your legs around his waist, heels digging into his back to pull him deeper. His chest brushes yours, sticky skin against sticky skin, and your nails rake down his back.

He gasps into your mouth. “Fuck—”

“More,” you breathe, nails dragging again, leaving angry red lines down the muscle of his back. “Please.”

His hips snap harder, pace picking up again. He braces one hand beside your head and the other slides up your thigh, gripping tight enough to bruise. Your body rocks with every thrust, his cock slamming into you, the slap of his hips against yours louder now.

“You feel that?” he grits out, forehead pressed to yours, sweat dripping down his temple. “How tight you are around me? Fuck— I’m so deep, baby, you’re taking me so fucking good.”

You moan loud at his words, head falling back against the cushions.

He kisses down your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breast — open-mouthed, wet kisses that make your skin burn. Then he’s back at your mouth, kissing you like it’s the only way he knows how to breathe.

He watches you with the kind of hunger that makes your stomach flip, watching how your brows pinch, how your mouth trembles, how you twitch around him with every stroke like you’re on the edge all over again.

And fuck, you are.

“Touch me,” you gasp, voice raw. “Kook, please—”

His fingers snake down your stomach, rubbing tight, perfect circles against your clit, synced with the rhythm of his thrusts. You cry out, thighs shaking around his waist, and he just watches — eyes dark and wild, like he can’t believe what he’s doing to you.

You clench hard around him, and he curses, slamming into you deeper, grinding at the end of each stroke.

“Gonna come again?” he pants. “Wanna come on my cock like that, baby? Let me feel you soak me?”

You’re nodding before he finishes, tears prickling in your eyes from how fucking intense it is. “Yes— yes, fuck, don’t stop—”

He kisses you as you fall apart — moaning into your mouth, swallowing every sound. You come again, whole body seizing around him. Your nails dig in, and he hisses at the pain, thrusting through it, fucking you right through the high.

When it ebbs, your body goes limp under him, chest heaving, lips swollen, slick dripping between your thighs.

Jungkook fucks into you again — slow, deep, like he’s trying to memorise the feel of you pulsing around him. His breath stutters, muscles drawn tight, every thrust rougher than the last.

“I’m not gonna last,” he pants, voice wrecked.

You bring your hands up to his hair, lightly tugging at his locks as you whisper, “Wanna feel you.”

He chokes on a moan, slamming into you one final time as he comes hard, cock twitching deep inside as he fills the condom.

His arms shake, muscles locked tight, and his face is buried in your neck as he rides it out, breath ragged, skin flushed and burning. You feel every pulse of it, every tremble in his frame, and all you can do is hold him there — legs wrapped tight around his waist, arms tangled around his shoulders, your nails still leaving stinging trails across his skin.

He presses kisses against your neck and jaw, eventually trailing up to your lips before pulling back to just look at you.

"I— you're perfect."

You smile, a familiar warmth enveloping your cheeks. "Yeah, yeah, you can stop with the flattery."

But he doesn’t smile back right away. He just watches you, quiet. Like he’s still catching up to the weight of what just happened. What’s still happening.

His hand drifts to your waist, thumb brushing lazily over your damp skin. “Let me run you a bath.”

You blink. “A bath?”

He nods, lips brushing your temple. “Yeah. You’re shaky. And I kinda wrecked you.”

You snort, catching the smugness in his voice. “What happened to, ‘Shit, baby, if you don’t stop I’m gonna come down your throat’?”

He groans, laughing. “Okay, first of all— rude. Second, I don’t sound like that.”

“Mm, you definitely do.”

He pinches your side lightly. “Keep talking, I’ll re-enact it right now.”

You shut up. But you’re smiling.

He stands a moment later, disappearing into the bathroom. You hear the water running, the soft clatter of bottles, his voice humming something low and familiar.

When he comes back, he tosses you a towel and holds out a hand, that same easy smile on his face. The one you’ve known forever. The one that makes everything feel… normal.

Even now.

You lace your fingers with his, let him pull you up.

Your legs are jelly. His hand doesn’t let go.

And as you follow him into the bathroom, skin still marked by his touch, lips still swollen from his kiss, a quiet thought flickers at the edge of your mind.

You guys were still best friends.

Right?

→ read part two here

taglist | click here to join: @thegreatdepressionme @golden-loona @kissyfacekoo @cookysstuff @whoa-jo @minghaosimp

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition)

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus (+ maybe the other MLs!) and an oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, maybe some suggestive language?? will add more tags as the story progresses A/N: This is gonna be a multi-chapter fic! I’m still not sure whether to do the boys in rotation, or just focus on one ML per series. Don’t take my word for it atp tho – I’m not even sure if I can actually finish a series lol.  Also, I’ve had the creative liberty of changing stuff from the actual gameplay here and there. (Except for the self-awareness. That’s most definitely real.) Hope you enjoy~!

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue (for the spin-off: click here!)

It’s a quarter past eight and you’re still on your desk working overtime on a Friday night. 

You let out a big sigh, leaning back on your office chair after an unhealthy duration of bad posture from hours of slouching down in front of your computer. There’s nothing ergonomic about the way this job is killing you, and the ache in your lower back can attest to that. 

An irate orange tabby plops himself in front of you, blocking your view of the glaring screen and you figure that it’s time for a break. 

“Me-oow.”

“I know, I know,” You answer tiredly, standing up to dodge a stray paw clawing your way and you hear cracks in three different places that are honestly unbecoming of a woman your age. You haven’t even reached thirty yet, for god’s sake. “I’m a bad mother. But mom also had to skip dinner to make it to the seven PM meeting, so cut me some slack, okay?” 

A high-pitched “meooowr!” is the only response you get; it seems like there’s no excusing late dinner time this time around. 

As much as you’d like to hem and haw and complain, the main reason why you’re still keeping this job is because you can work remotely. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re stuck most days at home working hours past your regular nine to five, having to be on-call around the clock at all times, and that you’ve consumed more sodium than a nitrite victim with the way you live off cup ramen, then, really, it beats working in an office where you’d physically have to clock in and out from exactly nine to five. 

Your right eye twitches. No, I have not fallen in love with the system that exploits me, thank you very much. 

“Here is your Fancy Feast, your highness,” you tell the hungry feline who’s already ignoring the hand that feeds for the bowl full of white fish paté. He eats healthier than you, sure, but you work like this for him to eat like this. The life of a single mom is an uphill battle, but extremely rewarding. 

You raise your hand to pat your son’s head lovingly, aborting the gesture halfway when you hear a warning growl. Alright, tough crowd. 

After nuking a half-eaten takeout box in the microwave and grabbing a cold Bundaberg from the fridge, you hunker down on the “chaise lounge” (see: an old wingback and a rattan ottoman you’ve refurbished as a makeshift seat a few weeks back when you had guests over) for a late meal. 

You barely register the taste of lukewarm rice on your tongue, mouth moving mechanically while your mind runs on autopilot about everything and nothing at the same time. 

Maybe it’s time to check Jobstreet again

Is there like a laundromat near the area that’s open twenty four seven

Eugh, I hate cold peas

What do we feel about Chromakopia? 

I will… die alone

I really need to stock on some fresh produce this weekend—

Ping! 

A notification from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts—and like a well-trained dog pavlov’d into responding, you visibly perk up at the sight of your lock screen lighting up and the familiar banner you’ve already memorized by heart. 

Your Galaxy Explorer rewards are here. Did you put my hotel’s address as the shipping address? 

Ah, just like clockwork. 

You press on it with a quiet, bubbling anticipation, chewing on the plastic spork as you wait impatiently for the silly mobile game that’s been your short respite at intervals—for more than you’d care to admit—to boot up. 

Offhandedly, you wish that the devs would add more variations to the game’s push notifications; more random, personalized stuff like maybe a reminder to drink water, or a fun update about their day. What you’d give–pay–for a: "Less on the overtime, kitten. I miss you,” dialogue from a certain character, but you digress. 

Oh, well. Probably better this way, lest you dig yourself deeper into delusion. 

The game greets you with the usual picturesque view of a silver-haired man sitting cross-legged on a chair, looking all the bit at ease in his signature crimson and white button up. The warm ambience of the Destiny Café at night draws you in, already pulling your attention away from the never-ending stream of thoughts in your brain. 

“Before seeing you, I thought today would be another dull day,“ Sylus comments airily. The way he drawls out the words in that deep timbre of his voice never fails to make your heart flutter – just a teeeensy bit.

“Ever the charmer,” you sigh happily in return, situating yourself more comfortably on the sofa, almost horizontal from how far you’re leaning back on the cushion. “You’re looking awfully normal tonight. What, no pineapple glasses for your favorite girl?” 

Having bypassed the initial cringe of talking to yourself after literal months of gameplay, it almost comes off natural, the banter. You’ve already accepted the fact that you’re crazy about a fictional, pixelated man—what’s pretending to have actual conversations with him gonna do? It’s not as if he actually hears you yap your nonsense; there are worse things in the world than a parasocial attachment to an otome game character. 

Your little jab at the sometimes random addition to his choice of attire earns you a laugh from the man himself—or at least it looks as though it does, making you blink momentarily in surprise. Happy coincidence, I guess.

You shake your head, cracking a smile, then proceed to do the routine of completing the daily agenda and then some. 

It’s tedious business, sure. You’ve dedicated hours upon hours on this game and you’re honestly starting to feel pretty bored with some of the gameplay elements, but you *do* like the ritualistic nature of ticking off the tasks one by one. It’s almost ironic— the way you dutifully do one thing after the other in this game, just to avoid the pile of work that’s waiting for you in real life. 

It’s not as if anything, or anyone’s relying on you to do your daily log-ins, so you suppose it’s due to that lack of pressure as well. 

Pulling yourself away from the five-star Xavier memory card you’ve grinded to level seventy, you stare despondently at the sad little 2 on your remaining energy. The embarrassing amount of materials you lack to ascend the card seem to mock you, even as you exit the Memories window. Another goal for another day, perhaps.

All tasks on the daily agenda are complete, except for one that you’ve always saved for last.

You’re met with a standing Sylus on the game’s home screen, arms crossed and wearing an expression you’d almost describe as impatient, if you didn’t know any better. The sight makes you grin. 

Cheekily, you poke his crotch.

You’re looking forward to getting a playful remark, or if you’re lucky, a blush along with an embarrassed retort about your shamelessness. 

 What you get, however, is a resounding scoff. Your eyes snap back to his face – from, ahem, your prolonged staring at the area below his waist – and you do see the familiar tinge of pink on his cheeks, but what he says in response catches you off-guard.

“You spend that much resource for a card that isn’t mine?” Sylus tsks, both his voice and expression coming across as… affronted? “Kitten, I’m actually hurt.” 

Huh?

You haven’t heard that line from him before. Was there a recent update you weren’t aware of? The man in question then appears to look amused, from the way you’ve been rendered speechless by the unexpected dialogue. 

All at once, you gasp when you realize what the new response means. 

“That’s so smart,” you say giddily. You see Sylus cock his head to the side, synchronously quirking an eyebrow—expectant. “They actually added a feature that lets them know which memory I’ve upgraded last, and make you react to it. Oh, that’s so cool!” 

If you weren’t too busy being excited over what you think is a new update from the game,  you’d see the chagrined look on Sylus’ face. But when you glance back at him, all trace of the emotion is gone before you could notice anything different. 

“Don’t worry, Crow Man. You’re still my favorite,” you assure him, making his mouth tick upwards in a semblance of a smile. He looks pleased all of the sudden, his demeanor shifting into something more relaxed.

Then a pout forms on your face. You crinkle your nose in frustration as you complain, “It’s just really hard to level your cards up at this point. It takes ages and a shit ton of energy just to level you up past seventy five.” Sighing, you add, kind of bitterly, “And I’m too broke to be spending money on growth packs.” 

Checking the time on your phone, you see that you’ve already spent more than an hour on your self-imposed break time and you know that you ought to get back to work soon. With a groan, you pull yourself to sit upright, savoring the last few minutes of free time before you slave off for the rest of the night. 

You’re about to clean up what’s left of dinner when you notice the oddly thoughtful look on Sylus’ face. 

There’s a deep furrow in his brows as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth. He closes his eyes shut for a few seconds. He's never done that gesture before... Ugh, he looks really hot–

Suddenly, you see a flicker—then a weird, sort of graphic distortion happening in the background. Uh, what??

A beat; then a glitch on the screen. “Ah, shit.” 

The game crashes.

You exhale loudly as the game’s interface goes back to the loading screen, tapping your thumb impatiently as the bar slowly loads to 15%... 50%..... 81%....... 

“Maybe make sure to patch up first before releasing an update next time, jeez—huh?” 

For a quick second, nothing seems to be amiss. But then the first thing you see on the home screen is Sylus’ figure standing before you, wearing an expression one could only describe as a cat that ate the proverbial canary. 

He speaks— and it’s another intro you haven’t heard him say, ever. 

“You should’ve told me sooner, sweetie,” he almost coos the words out, making your eyes bug out in shock. 

“Now, why don’t you go check your–” he pauses, and his mouth moves as if he’s rolling the word out, testing it. “Inventory?” 

Sylus slides his gaze towards the upper left corner of the screen, a coy smirk still ever-present on his face. 

There, you see something you haven’t noticed earlier: two notification badges. One on your mailbox, and another on the Hunter’s Info tab. Bewildered, you press on the mail icon first, despite the insistence for you to start with the latter. 

You see a new message: [For You]

A small gift, to bridge our worlds closer. – S 

Nothing is attached to it. You read it twice, perplexed.  

“You’re quite the contradictorian, aren’t you?” Sylus tuts as soon as you return back to the home screen, his gaze boring into you even when he tilts his head sideways in mock exasperation. “Mmm, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Take all the time you need, sweetheart.” 

Helplessly, you open your inventory next. 

Your jaw drops. 

“What. The fuck,” You whisper to yourself, voice wavering in disbelief at what you’re seeing, and the sheer amount of what you’re seeing. “This—this can’t be real.” 

You see that all the materials you own, from the bottle of wishes to the ascension crystal boxes, have been multiplied a hundred times over.

And on top of that–

Ninety nine thousand red dias????

You cannot believe how this—this recent… update (or is it a bug? Infold sure isn’t this generous) didn't make the news. Even as someone as uninvolved as you are with the community and the game’s latest releases, something like this for sure would’ve made headlines on Twitter (X), at least. But you haven’t heard anything. Nada. 

Holy shit. 

You feel a little light-headed, both from incredulity and excitement. Needing a moment to calm yourself down, you exit the Inventory tab in a daze.

You stare at Sylus. He stares back at you with what looks to be mirth in his eyes. 

Skeptically, you mutter, “did–did I get hacked or something?” 

Anticipating another unexpected dialogue to prompt up, you wait for a full minute without saying anything else. And for a moment, the man in front of you looks indecisive, contemplative. 

There’s something very odd, very… human in the way he’s looking at you. He looks as if– as if he’s—

His face falls back into a neutral expression. Not unlike how his idle animation usually looks. 

..

…

….. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to initiate a conversation any time soon, so you hesitantly poke him on the nose. 

“Even in the worst-case scenario, there’s no need to panic.”

You’ve heard that one before.

So he’s back to normal now. You temper the small disappointment that blooms in your gut. 

Shaking your head slowly, you try to make sense of all the stuff that just happened, but a sharp bite on your ankle pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Ow–!” The sight of your cat flopping near your feet reminds you of the time. More importantly, the backlogs waiting for you at your desk. 

“Wait, shit– I gotta get back to work.” This… unbelievable stroke of good luck (?) is gonna have to take a backseat for now.

You grab the carton box and the half-empty bottle of sparkling peach as you stand up. Making quick work of throwing the container in the trash and gulping down the rest of your drink, you rush into your room and back in front of your PC. 

Cracking your knuckles, you gingerly set your phone against the monitor. Setting the timer to one hour in Quality Time, knowing fully-well that you’re going to have to keep extending it until the wee hours of the morning—or until your battery dies, whichever comes first—you give Sylus one last look, letting out a long exhale before locking in.

“Just keep me company for the night, alright? I’ll figure out what’s going on once my shift’s over.” 

-

It could just be your overactive imagination, but you swear you hear a quiet chuckle from the man polishing his gun in your peripheral.

[honorthysalad]

“Matsuura-san’s parent died… Hikaru’s parent also died… having your parent die… is bad.”

Thank god we’ve got Yoshiki here, modern philosopher of our time, to drop this wisdom upon us. Surely this grand conclusion, which required a whole flashback to come to, will have an impact on how Yoshiki views death going forward- oh wait, lol what am I saying? Of course it’s not!

[koimethehorizon]

Deltarune: What's the Deal with Ramb?

(MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR CH 3 of DELTARUNE)

Genuinely, who hell is this guy?

I spend an unhealthy amount of time overthinking Deltarune, so I will likely have an opinion, theory, or answer on practically every aspect of the game. (whether you guys get to read any of those depends on my work ethic.)

But with Ramb, the best I can add is that this is a rare case of an underwritten Toby Fox character. Borderline just a plot-device for the Ch 3 weird route.

...and maybe this was done deliberately?

Throughout Ch 3, Ramb works as a very effective bait for the fans keeping their eyes out for this chapter's secret boss.

An odd speech pattern, a distinct design, an uncomfortable familiarity with Kris, low-key kind of a weirdo, and who could forget the FREEDOM drop.

Like, come on. By his 2nd line, I'm sure most players were suspicious of this guy. Moreso, when you enter that ominous S rank lobby into an equally ominous, weird route minigame.

This has to be the guy right?

Yes, I'm still salty.

And so you keep progressing, grinding for those S ranks, chatting with the definitely-the-Ch3-secret-boss, killing some digital friends along the way.

You find out he's actually a library power strip that Kris and Asriel stole to play games way back when. He's not just any NPC, he KNOWS Kris. And in the chapter's endgame, Ramb drops the bombshell that he SAW Kris open the fountain and figures before anyone that they must've done it to have another adventure with Susie.

I never trust anyone who smiles like this.

Alright lay it on me Ramb, give me the bullshit bullets and let me kick your ass!

And then you fight ERAM, get the Shadow Mantle, and.... he's gone. For the rest of the chapter.

WHERE'S MY CRYSTAL RAMB???

A Rabbick in the S rank hall will tell you that something happened to Ramb, but you don't even get the liberty of knowing the specifics.

So what the hell? Was Ramb genuinely just some weirdo?

It actually wasn't until a week later that I found out that Ramb gets more backstory in the route where you talk with him less. In other words, the non-S rank path that secret hunters would've reset the chapter away from. Nullifying any more info on this character for most dedicated first-timers.

Rather than Ramb vanishing, he's just a block of stone in his booth. Interact with it and a Pippins will give you this:

Don't bother Kris. Ramb's already turned into stone a bit ago... He was a plug, but because you played with him like any other toy, it made him feel special. Might have given him a little bit of an ego, in fact...

Always condescending to any plan, saying "what's best for Kris?" Couldn't get rid of him, so Tenna made him "work the stand"...

Us from the Card Castle fit in fine. Him? He never really belonged. His first day at this stand, he joked "how about the usual?" ... no one laughed! Mixing drinks alone for himself, he wasn't allowed to handle the points...

No one will shed a tear for him. Inside, he was probably stone already.

... And it tells us nothing.

I'm not talking the boy-that-was-sure-a-lot-of-words type of nothing. I mean a far more mundane, miserable type of nothing.

Some have theorized that Ramb was the intended secret boss that the Knight didn't get the shadow crystal to in time.

Some also theorize that Ramb was the one controlling ERAM to have a 1v1 with Kris.

And even fewer might expect Ramb to return in a future chapter so we'll DEFINITELY know what the deal with him is!

Maybe I'm stepping my foot a bit hard here, but I don't agree with any of these. I think the point of this backstory is much sadder than we expected.

Ramb didn't know shit.

Every time Ramb talked about freedom, he wasn't even referring to the same realization that Spamton and Jevil had. Ramb wasn't aware of a grand prophecy, nor did he receive a contact from Gaster/The Knight/Carol or whoever the hell is on that phone.

Ramb placed all stock on his value and identity on being Kris's favorite. Like a parasocial fan of a celebrity. And as a result, he ruined any chance at a social life.

Funny enough, Ramb got NOTHING about Kris right.

Kris HATED playing the Shadow Mantle game. Kris didn't open the fountain for fun; it was to carry out the Knight's plan, which I'm pretty sure Kris isn't all that fond of either.

So all we've got left is this strange, lonely NPC who didn't even need a shadow crystal to be trapped in an existential rot.

He gave up on his life all by himself.

Whenever I see another "who's the secret boss of Ch 3" argument pop up, it makes me pity Ramb in a way I never have with any other Toby Fox character.

Ramb...but only thematically.

Spamton and Jevil are considered anti-social, insane rejects within their Dark Worlds. Yet because they've got the charisma and are powerful opponents, they're loved by many players.

Ramb has none of these qualities.

Other than his accent and design, there isn't much of anything to delve further into with this guy. Ramb absolutely does have some fans, but he'll never reach the same heights as the other bosses because he doesn't stand out.

Ramb's only self-imposed purpose was to help guide Kris to whatever he thinks freedom is and once we get the Mantle, he's fulfilled it, and we're never to see him again.

It's as if even the narrative wants us to forget about him.

[kooklovee]

Yours for a year | JJK

SERIES MASTERLIST (& fic announcement)

One year, one contract, one fake marriage. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right?

Pairing - Ceo Jungkook x Reader

Genre - fake/contract marriage au, slow burn, strangers to lovers, grumpy x sunshine, fluff, comedy, angst, first love au, smut (eventual), kdrama vibes, "she fell first he fell harder."

Rating - 18+, MDNI

Warnings - grumpy jungkook x sunshine energy reader, 2 years age gap, 29 yrs old Jk, 27 yrs old reader, virgin reader, emotionally constipated Jk, reserved jk, reader is a hopeless romantic at heart, humor, slow build, tension, kdrama moments?, emotional intimacy, unspoken feelings, yearning, miscommunication, jealousy, pining, hurt/comfort, arguments, confessions, Explicit sexual content, (if anything more- will be added once finished.)

Prologue

Episode 1

Taglist: Open

A/NOTE - this was supposed to be a long oneshot bt my heart wanted to make it a series - so here we are, and please note this is something that I've just started working on, so it might take some months to finish bt you will definitely get it from me someday in future. even though I have the plot planned out, I really don't want to rush with it as this trope is something new for me. so PLEASE be patient with the babies (both, the fic & me) <3 (In the meantime, you'll still get other stories from me till this one's completed don't worry🤭)

If you want to be included in the taglist for this fic, you can comment under this post (or send me an ask).

Masterlist

[fake-bleach]

ROAD TRIP STOP | LOGAN HOWLETT x READER

taking a small road trip with old man logan where you’re halfway to where you need to be, and you're bored out of your mind. unluckily for you, your boyfriend won't possibly give into your antics.

or, logan fucks you in a gas station bathroom <3

word count: 3.3k

WARNINGS/DISCLAIMERS: (18+ only!) fem!reader, porn w/ slight plot lol, piv, unprotected sex, this shit is roughhh, degrading, filthyyy dirty talk, use of pet names, slight choking, coming inside/creampie, manhandling? i guess?, logan refers to himself as "your old man" bc i'm insane, anddd happy ending bc we all know how much i love those! :D

a/n: there aren't nearly enough fics abt old man logan & i need him Badly.

+ logan pictures from @divinesols incredible moodboard <3

ao3 link! | my masterlist

you’re 4 hours into your road trip, and logan, well, being the man he is, hasn’t let you drive a single second.

he tells you that you can just sit there n’ look pretty and that’s good enough for him. but, he’s getting tired, and the nearest hotel isn’t for another 50 miles.

you notice his eyes getting heavier, his body slouching more, his grip on the steering wheel loosening. so, you do what you do best. why not have some harmless fun with your old boyfriend?

your hands subtly inch over to his thighs, fingers trailing the clothed skin just above his knee, and he flinches surprisingly, glancing at you for a moment with that tired face of his.

“what are y’doing? huh?” he asks, with a quirk in his eyebrow and his voice rasping more than usual from his fatigue; it only makes it all the more arousing for you.

you grin, your head turned to look up at him with a sly expression. “just waking you up a bit. you’re practically falling asleep here.”

your fingers move upwards now, slowly but surely, and right before you can reach the spot just below his bulge, he sighs out, gripping your hand to lightly push it off of him.

“not here. got another hour left til’ we’re at the hotel. then, we can rest up, baby.”

you pout, looking at him eagerly. “are you even gonna make it there, lo?” you tease, “your eyes are getting heavier, you’re tired.. why don’t you just let me drive?” you attempt, but you’re knocked down the second you try.

he huffs, shaking his head. “don’t you try that shit. you know what m’gonna say to that.”

you groan at that, rolling your eyes fussily as your head turns to look up at the roof of the car. “you’re insufferable,” you sigh out, jokingly, of course. but, you were with logan long enough to know just how stubborn he could be. that he could almost always be.

which means, you knew exactly how to get what you wanted, in more ways than one. 

let’s just say this way was more fun, anyway.

you let out an exasperated breath before turning back to face him, your eyes lighting up just slightly before you open up your mouth.

“guess i just gotta..” you trail off, hands now on your body with your fingertips grazing the skin on your chest; roaming around the loose shirt you had on. “..entertain myself for the next hour then..”

logan turns his head to you now, eyes fixing on your hand just long enough to catch you slip it underneath your bra, cupping one of your tits. you let out a low moan as you look into his eyes, fingers rolling the nipple there, and he scoffs.

it’s a sound that has your heart racing immediately.

“you’ve been a good girl so far, sweetheart. would hate for you to switch up when we’re almost fuckin’ there.” he warns you, turning his head back to the road, having seen enough. “don’t you start now. gonna make you regret it.”

a pang of arousal hits you just like that, pussy involuntarily clenching around nothing as he threatens you; a threat that you definitely need to see for yourself.

you merely pout at him again, but his words aren’t enough to stop you. not when you’re just getting started.

your hand leaves your breast, slowly inching down your stomach, then to the waistband of your shorts, all with your eyes still locked on him. you bite your lip as your hand breaches underneath the material, testing the waters before your fingers reach the hem of your panties.

fingertips aching to dip into the wet heat, you anticipate your own touch as your hands lower, but an immediate grasp at your wrist stops you completely, eliciting a gasp from your throat.

mouth falling open in shock, you turn to look at the man responsible with that gruff look on his face, and that snarl from him gives you more than enough of a warning.

you clear your throat, letting out a noise of frustration towards your boyfriend as he all but tosses your hand away carelessly.

“knock. it. off. don’t make me say it again.”

logan nearly growls at you, moving in closer to get right in your face; he isn’t playing around, and you know it.

but, god, does it only encourage you more.

it isn’t until logan’s focus is completely back on the road that you test the waters again; your fingers finally inserting themselves into your soft, warm folds, wet and waiting so impatiently.

it makes you moan, a hushed sound that you try your hardest to bite back from releasing, but you’re evidently unsuccessful.

so, before you know it, the truck is swerving, causing you to pull yourself back to hold onto the sides of the car, anywhere that you could grab onto. the wheels squeal loudly as the high pitch penetrates your ears, and logan makes a harsh u-turn without a second to waste.

“lo! what the fuck!” you exclaim loudly, wild eyes reaching for his own, but it’s no use. he’s dead set in front of him, shaking his head furiously as the white of his knuckles present itself from holding onto the wheel so tightly.

he’s had enough of your shit.

his eyes never leave the road in front of him once, never returning to you. no matter how much you talk or try to get him to respond, he doesn’t budge.

instead, for the next 5 minutes, silence fills the space between you as your eyes shut from your frustration. it’s all you really can do at this point.

but, it’s only when the high screech of the wheels halting and the gear being put into park has your eyes opening again, eyes latching onto the bright lights in front of you.

a gas station, and the convenience store’s white luminescent glass reflecting on logan’s face. he’s out the driver’s side as soon as you can look at him, and before you can process it, he’s dragging you out of the truck, slamming the door shut as he does so.

you scramble against him, fists almost pushing their hardest into his chest as you whine loudly, increasingly dazed and confused.

“logan, what the fuck are you doing?! let go of me!”

you fight against him harder, but there’s nothing stopping him. not now.

he lets out an exasperated breath, his heavy footsteps embedding themselves into the loud gravel beneath them as he drags you along.

“don’t play that shit with me. actin’ like you don’t know what the hell you’re doing,” he practically yells at you in a hushed voice, “you know what the fuck you’re doing.”

“walk.” he orders you instantly, and you don’t hesitate to obey. not when his voice gets like that.

most of all, because it makes your heart pound—pounding in your chest because he’s right. you know what you’re doing.. but, you can’t say you regret it. no, not one bit.

and if he’s gonna make you regret it, you might as well go all out. right?

his grip on your arm is tight as you walk side by side with him, leading you into the gas station with the door open for you. you can’t even acknowledge the cashier from how quick logan swifts the two of you past them; straight towards the bathroom, and it makes you gulp. 

it’s too late for anyone to be around, too late for anyone to care, and you know that. but, the thought exhilarates you anyway.

he shoves the door open with a hushed whisper—one that’s almost incoherent as it escapes his lips. “you wanna act like a fucking brat?” he shuts the door hurriedly, shoving your body against the sink, “i’m gonna treat you like a fucking brat.”

you yelp at the sudden movement, his fingers digging themselves into your skin as you cry out at the feeling. it’s rough and brutal and it burns, but it’s so fucking good.

“lo.. lo, please,” you whine as your eyes shut tightly, the overwhelming sensation of his hands on you and his hot breath hitting your skin being too much to handle.

your body is flush against the sink as you attempt to squirm, to try to get him to do something, anything.

that cruel laugh of his fills your ears—quiet yet booming in your head as it sends chills throughout your entire body, eyes flashing open to look at him in the mirror in front of you. “please? please?” logan mocks you, “do y’even know what you’re asking for, baby? nah.. you don’t.”

“you just want..” logan trails off, his hands mindlessly reaching for your shorts, “to get fucked.. like the whore you are.”

without a single warning, he yanks them down along with your panties, and your whines are impossible to stop when the cool air hits your bare skin. when his filthy words are the only thing you can think about.

“can’t keep these pretty hands to yourself, you gotta rile me up to do it for you?” you hear the clank of his belt unbuckling, the zipper of his jeans sliding down, “gotta piss me off every goddamn time you get so fucking needy? i mean,” he laughs harder now, “not that i really blame you..”

logan pauses, and his eyes that were once staring directly at you now shift to look straight ahead, latching onto your mirrored reflection instead. as if he was looking right into you now. “pretty girl like you.. would be a shame to let this cunt go to waste. so, i’ll do you a favor..”

your jaw falls open in complete shock as your face contorts, as the tip of his cock breaches your tight hole, making your eyes roll back instantaneously with a sob from your lips.

“i’ll use her real good. for what she’s made for, yeah?”

your hands grip the sink in front of you as tightly as possible, body trembling as logan groans into your ear, his hands on your body never loosening.

instead, his grip only tightens as his hips become flush against your ass, his entire cock piercing you to the hilt with a satisfied moan.

“that was easier this time, wasn’t it? gettin’ used to me now. just needed to..” logan takes a moment to pull himself out of you, the tip resting against your entrance as he groans. he slams himself back inside of you so hard that your body fails you, your hands landing on the mirror to hold yourself up, bent over.

“break her in real fucking good.”

your body shakes against him as you cry out at his intrusion, stammering out a string of noises as your walls involuntarily clench around him over and over again. it’s almost as if you’re rapidly adapting to him; the way he stretches you out so much that it hurts in the best way possible. you’re pulsing around him, increasingly growing wetter by the second as your eyes water from the intense sensation.

your words slur with a few whines of what seem to be logan’s name as your hands move back to the sink, attempting to push yourself back up against him, but he stops you. grabbing one of your hands, he places it right against the mirror again, holding it still as he grinds himself into you. it makes you breathe out rapidly, body bent over the sink completely now.

“keep em’ right there. right fucking there. you don’t get to do that. y’don’t get to make any choices here.” he grunts in your ear, his thick beard grazing along your jaw as his eyes flicker from your face back to the mirror. he notices the way you’re trembling, eyes filled with those pretty tears of yours, and it makes him smile—a chuckle leaving him shamelessly.

he takes a moment to admire you, whispering out, “what i’m gonna do to you, baby..” and it makes your eyes flutter shut, warmth filling your core.

his other hand trails up the front of your body now, and it practically covers you completely because of how big it is—your stomach, your breasts, your chest, then finally, your neck. your gasp is loud; heavy, as his fingers wrap around your throat, holding you still for him.

all of you in the palm of his hand—all in his control.

you moan eagerly as he looks into your eyes through the mirror, grinning almost maliciously, “isn’t this what you wanted?” he laughs, his hips stirring a bit as he agonizingly pulls out of you, making you wince, “you wanted my attention so bad, wanted my cock so fucking bad..” he growls in your ear, his hand sliding from your throat to the back of your neck, pushing you down hard, and it makes you grip onto the side of the sink even more. 

“well, now you fucking got it.”

the sound of his rasping grunt hits you first; before you’re sobbing out on his cock, pelvis hammering inside of you with a tight hold on your neck, keeping you there with no chance of stopping, no squirming, no escaping.. no running away from this.

all you can do is take it as he pounds into you, the agonizing ache of his cock sliding in and out of you rapidly increasing the coil in your core, your loud cries and moans enough to make him go harder.

“there you go, there she is..” logan grits out, hands now grasping at your hips, smacking your ass, eliciting a grunt from you, “better fuckin’ hope no one walks in here, or else all they’re gonna see is some whore gettin’ used.”

you cry out as you feel the tip of his cock reach the deepest parts inside of you, nudging your g-spot suddenly as a tear slides down your cheek, your knuckles white from how tight you were grasping at your surroundings. your cheeks grow hot from the idea of that happening, stomach tightening as heat pools your core.

“what’d they think, huh? you think they’d wanna join in on the fun? bet they’d wanna fuck you too after i’m done with you. tightest fuckin’ hole i’ve ever had.”

you whine out now, shaking your head desperately in retaliation as you deny it. you couldn’t ever have another man like this, not now, not ever—only him.

logan sighs out, “no, no, no, i’d never let em’ baby, don’t you worry,” he reassures you, pressing his lips against the top of your head, “this,” he murmurs, his hand reaching to cup the front of your cunt, the rough skin on his palm grazing your clit just enough to make you squeal, “s’all fuckin’ mine. you hear me? not a single soul gets to use her like i can.”

“not like she’d want it anyway. only wants my cock in her. s’the only way she can really be filled up.. fucked stupid and cryin’ for me. ain’t that right? never got fucked by a man like me before y’met me, and i’m sure as hell no one will ever get her trembling like i do.”

you shake your head again, tears continuously spilling out of your eyes as your stomach tightens repeatedly, “n-no, lo, only you—” you stammer out as logan buries himself inside of you to the hilt, plunging into the warm heat of your walls, and he slows, relying on pure power than pace now. the harsh drive of his hips has your head fogging up, so close to reaching your peak with your cunt shuddering.

“ohh, there we go, she’s doing it now. shaking all over this fucking cock, squeezin’ me so tight,” he hisses, “that all you up in this pretty little head, or can you even control it? can’t even control it, can you, baby?”

a string of noises leaves your lips, breathless and mixed with whines and a few tears in your eyes as your core spasms out, his cock hitting deep inside of you repeatedly.

“what was that? can’t really.. understand you, baby, y’gotta speak up..” he teases, a mean laugh escaping his throat, “c’monnn, use your words, really think em’ out, say em’ clearly.”

“c’mon, show me that you’re still my good girl. my good little girl. speak up for your old man, honey.”

you yelp out at his filthy words, “m’.. i c-can’t.. control it, ah!” your moans involuntarily stringing out, eyes fluttering shut and rolling to the back of your head, your pussy convulsing around him intensely. “g-gonna–c-cum, lo, oh—” you spit out, your chest grasping for as much air as possible.

he hums in your ear now, fingers reaching for your clit and fastening tight, harsh circles at it, making you shudder, your cunt throbbing around his cock—pulsating over and over again as you start to see white. “gonna fill you up, sweetheart, gonna make you take it, fuck.”

you can’t even register him anymore as he talks you through it, the “come for me, baby,” muffled in your ears as you listen to him, cunt constricting around him tightly as you soak him, and the sound is filthy as logan chases his release, squelching loudly from your climax.

you let out a muffled sob as logan finally reaches his peak, slamming himself deep inside of you as he holds you there, the spurts of white hot spilling & coating your walls. all you can hear is the ringing in your ears, along with the mixture of your heavy breaths and logan’s rasps surrounding you.

logan’s strong arms pull you up against him as you catch your breath, heart rate slowing as your back leans against his chest tiredly. he mutters sweet nothings to you, praising you with kisses along your neck, cheek, then to your lips.

“my good fucking girl, my sweet girl—oh, baby,” he hums in your ear, eyes shut as he takes you in. you sigh out, breathing him in as your hand reaches behind, landing on the back of his head to pull him in closer, “god, i love you.”

you laugh, pressing a mindless kiss on his skin, “i love you more, lo, i–i’m sorry for acting out, for being such a—” you begin to apologize, but he just shuts you up with another peck to your lips. “shh, you hush now. i appreciate it.. you riling me up all the damn time. s’ the only way i can still feel so young.”

you giggle, eyes opening up to turn your head to him, taking in his disheveled look—tired, old, grumpy. the man you loved, as handsome as ever.

“always young in my eyes, lo..” you smile, “besides.. it’s the only way i can get you to fuck me that good.” you tease.

he huffs, rolling his eyes. “i fuck you that good every goddamn time, n’ don’t you deny it.”

you laugh, nodding. you can’t deny that fact. but, your eyebrows furrow slightly, suddenly thinking back to the previous events.

“did you really fuck me in a gas station bathroom, babe? what if someone walked in?!” you groan, pushing your forehead into his chest, embarrassed.

he chuckles, “locked it the minute we got in here, baby. wouldn’t let anyone see you like that,” he reassures you, gently gripping the side of your head to make you look up at him, “you got that?”

his face is stern now as he looks into your eyes, and those butterflies in your stomach erupt as if it were the first time you ever got them from him. you nod though, gleaming up at him.

“got it.”

he grins, “good. now, let’s get you cleaned up n’ back on the road. back’s killing me even more now n’ that bed’s calling my name.”

you laugh at him, teasing him further. “old man.”

you wouldn’t want it any other way.

[dollishmehrayan]

# “I NEED YOUR LOVING, LIKE THE SUNSHINE, EVERYONE’S GOT TO LEARN SOMETIME.” ── .✦ ( batboys when they have a crush on you ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ )

dollish note ౨ৎ: yes this is based off that one korgis song and if you know it, your elite marry me immediately anywayss I need like more cute events to do omgg and guys I’m going to look for a new divider edition but the bunny will always stay don’t worryyy tags: (batboys x reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

He’s so obvious. Everyone knows. Even villains probably know, even you probably know but we always play hard to get. (that’s js me sorry)

Overly casual compliments: “Wow, you look… good. Like, really good. Is that new? No? I just never noticed how great you always look??”

Purposely hangs around you way more than necessary. “Oh wow, fancy seeing you here again... at this coffee shop... at this exact time... for the fifth time this week…”, “uh.. sure okay dick.”

Gets physically flustered. You smile at him and he bumps into a wall.

Brings you little gifts like coffee, snacks, or something you mentioned once two months ago that he totally remembered.

Accidentally lets it slip to Barbara. You find out two days later because she’s evil (and supportive). GIRL BOSSSSS

RASON RODD (IF YKYK) ── .✦

Denies it to everyone. Even himself. “Me? Crushing? Pfft. Please. I'm just being nice. I’m always this nice. Shut up.”

Acts all chill and tough but turns into a sarcastic teddy bear when you're around.

Tries not to care but notices everything about you like when you’re tired, upset, or need space.

Gets really protective, then downplays it. “Yeah I threatened that guy because he was being annoying. Not because he was flirting with you. Nope.” ( our little nonchalant guy )

Will read/watch your favorite stuff in secret so he can talk about it with you, then pretends he hated it. “No, I didn’t like it. But the plot twist in episode 7 was wild. Just sayin’.”

Probably punches a wall the first time someone calls him out. Literally everyone in the family: “Just ask them out already.”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Has a million tabs open on “how to tell if someone likes you back.”

Obsesses over every text you send. Sends a reply. Deletes it. Writes a better one. Deletes that too. Eventually sends “lol yeah same” and regrets it instantly.

Runs into you and forgets how to function for 3 seconds. “Hey—hi—hey. Sorry. I mean. Hello.”

Will research your interests so he can impress you or casually bring them up. “Oh, you’re into ___? I read a couple papers about that, super cool stuff.”

Accidentally calls you “cute” in passing, then vanishes for two days to a point you wonder if he might appear on the missing website thing.

You find out he has a playlist called “maybe someday” and the first song is something painfully romantic.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Pretends he doesn’t like you. Like, aggressively. But it’s so obvious.

Gives you weirdly thoughtful gifts and says things like, “I noticed you were using inferior supplies.”

Blushes if you compliment him. Denies he’s blushing. “Tt. The temperature is simply warm.”

Subtly changes his schedule to be around you more. He’ll be in the library when you’re there, in the gym at the same time it’s definitely not a coincidence (even though he insists it is).

Draws you. Like, sketches. Constantly. Says it’s “for anatomy practice.”

Acts annoyed when you talk to someone else, then pouts in a corner like a feral cat.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

He doesn’t even realize it at first. It hits him out of nowhere, like genuinely out of thin air.

Brooding increases by 200%. He stares off into space, thinking about you, and Alfred has to snap him out of it.

Becomes awkwardly formal. “Would you… perhaps… like to join me for dinner? I understand if that’s… inconvenient.” ( like despite being a former player and all and smoothhh as hell when he genuinely likes someone he can’t be smooth, your like his Andrea beaumont but if they worked out )

Totally asks Alfred for advice. Alfred gives him the same advice he gave him at 16.

When you smile at him, he short-circuits a little. You get a rare, soft Bat-smile in return.

Once he’s sure of his feelings, he’s all in but oh boy, it takes a while.

[allllium]

Just an Accident

~ Jason todd x reader who was accidentally hurt

~ Fluff, Jason being dramatic, WC:

~ Inspired by @mostly-imagines

[Thank you guys for being so patient while I finished this and thank you for all likes 💓💓 I really wasn't expecting anything till this was finished. Hope this meets your expectations <3]

Jason tried really hard to keep his secret secret from you but let's be honest, he's very obvious about it. Especially once you meet his family.

After he finally came clean to you about everything, he became even more protective. More protective than you ever thought possible.

He would freak out anytime he didn't know where you were or if you got hurt in any way.

"I'm so so sorry." Bruce says, following you through the mansion repeating his apology.

"It's okay, Bruce, it was an accident." You reply, "I should've known."

Honestly there was no way you could've known that Bruce was creating some elaborate booby trap on the kitchen counter that would fail and smack you in the face when you walked into the kitchen.

It didn't hurt too bad, luckily Bruce was testing things with plastic and not the real materials.

From the look of it though, you'll definitely have a mark on your nose and possibly a bruise under your eye.

"I had no idea it was gonna do that." He continues defending, knowing how Jason will react.

"It's fine, I swear. I know you wouldn't do that on purpose." You walk into the living room and sit down on the couch. Bruce sits next to you.

"Can I get you anything?" He asks. Obviously freaking out.

"No, it's alright. It really doesn't hurt."

"Oh shit." You hear Dick gasp. Coming in through the front door with Tim.

"Oh, what did you do!?" Tim asks, "Jason is gonna kill you."

"It was an accident, everything is fine." You try to calm everyone down.

Seeing that you're okay, Dick can't hold back his laugh.

"Wow, Jason is never gonna trust you again Bruce." Tim hits Dick on the arm and rolls his eyes. To the side of you, Bruce leans forward to hold his head in his hands.

"I think you guys are being a little dramatic. Jason isn't gonna kill him."

"No you seriously underestimate how Jason will react to this." Tim tells you.

"Yeah, remember he almost killed me for making jokes about you when you first got together."

"What?" You turn to Dick in confusion, "I don't remember that."

"Not important," he waves it off, "The point is, we need a plan."

"A plan for what?"

"A plan to hide this from Jason" He tells you, in a tone that screams obvious.

"How would I do that, Dick? I live with him."

"I don't know yet, that's why we need a plan!" He exclaims, pacing in front of the couch.

You roll your eyes, "You're being dramatic."

"No he's not." Bruce says. You fall back into the couch and cross your arms over chest.

"Bruce please. I need at least one of other person here to be an adult."

You can hear Tim laughing as he sits in the chair next to the couch.

"Well, he's right. Jason's gonna be pissed." Bruce shakes his head at you. He stands from the couch and starts pacing with Dick.

"They're gonna make me lose my mind." You mumble under your breath. You run your hands over your face, this childish behavior you're watching isn't what you were expecting from Batman and Nightwing.

Okay to be honest you were definitely expecting this from Dick.

Tim leans over to whisper to you, "You should make a break for it, they're too busy plotting to notice you leave."

"Let me guess," you whisper back, "you've had to make a break for it a couple times?"

"More than you know." He shakes him head and has a serious look on his face.

"Well, have fun with that." You laugh and walk out the front door. Tim was right, both the guys were so busy trying to figure out how to hide you from Jason, they totally forgot to hide you.

You rush home to meet Jason. You were supposed to meet for dinner but obviously you got a little distracted.

"Hey baby." You sigh when you walk through the door. Jason is in the kitchen cooking dinner. Whatever he chose to make, made the whole room smell amazing.

"Hey. What took you so long?"

"I stopped by the mansion to borrow that thing from Alfred but he wasn't there." You tell him, referencing some cooking tool you wanted to make desert for after dinner.

"Where did he go?" You want into the kitchen to see him while you talk.

"I have no idea. I got distracted by something Bruce was doing." You walk over and take a piece of food that he's cutting.

Without looking, he softly smacks your hand away.

"Rude." You laugh.

"This is my sacred space." He puts the knife down and gestures over the whole counter.

"You're ridiculous." You laugh again and kiss him on the cheek.

"How dare you." He puts his hand on his chest in fake offense. Only then does he turn to actually look at you. "What happened?" He immediately asks.

"Oh it's fine, just got smacked with some plastic " Which is apparently not the answer he wanted.

"What the fuck does that mean?" He grabs your face gently and examines the marks on your face.

"It means I got hit with some plastic. But it doesn't hurt." You quickly explain, but he doesn't let go of your face or stop freaking out.

"What plastic?"

"Bruce was experimenting with something and it didn't work."

"He did this?" He lets go off your face to run his hands over his own.

"It was accident. He wouldn't hurt me on purpose and you know that."

"I don't care if it was an accident, you're hurt."

"Jason." You say firmly. He's obviously surprised considering you never use his name to address him. "An accident is an accident and you're not gonna hold this against Bruce. He already apologized and clearly felt bad."

"But you're hurt" He pouts.

You step forward and wrap your arms over his shoulders. "It doesn't hurt. It was just some plastic."

"It left a mark."

"I promise I'm okay. And I want you to promise you won't hurt Bruce for this." You look right into his eyes and do your best to give him a puppy dog look. Which isn't necessary because he can't say no to you anyway.

"Fine I promise I won't hurt him." He presses his forehead to yours, "I'd rather leave him to stew in fear anyway."

You chuckle at his words. "As long as no real harm comes to him I won't stop you from having fun."

"Good." He kisses you once and heads back to make dinner. You have no doubt Jason would ever actually hurt Bruce over something so small but you'd rather be safe than sorry.

Hopefully this'll stop Dick and Bruce acting like absolutely children in the future.

Yeah that'll never happen.

Not even 10 minutes after finishing dinner you get a call from Dick.

"How dare you?" He asks the moment you answer the phone. "You're a traitor."

"Again with the dramatics Dick. You can't stop me from going home."

"Let me guess Jason's on his way here to get some revenge right now." He says in a very childish and fearful tone.

"No! I was right, you guys are way more dramatic than you should be and he has no intention of killing anyone." Jason looks at you as you talk to his brother. Clearly wondering what he has to do with this situation.

"I don't believe you. You've shown where your loyalty lies."

"Why are you talking like I'm an enemy or something?"

"Maybe you are! How should I know?"

"Okay you're right." You decide to play along, "I couldn't stop him from wanting to kill Bruce, he's on his way there right now."

Jason furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

"I knew it! Mark my words one day-"

His voice cuts off when you hang up.

"There is something severely wrong with your entire family." You tell Jason with a blank face.

"Yeah I know." He puts his arm over your shoulder and pulls you into him.

Hmm you wonder how long it takes till Dick realizes you lied.

[emilys-bangs]

take a seat | e.p

Tags: lap sitting (sometimes in inconvenient places), bau!reader, emily’s man-spreading, reader is insecure about their weight, multiple concerns about being too heavy, too many mentions of emily’s thighs, brief mention of nail picking, there’s a bar scene but it’s not mentioned whether or not reader drinks, a gross man as a plot device, getting together, personal space does not exist in this fic, the last part skips to uc emily (rated t? it’s a bit spicy idk), the usual use of petnames

Summary: Circumstances happen. Sometimes, the solution is to make yourself comfortable on your dizzyingly attractive coworker’s lap. She holds your hips, you hold your breath. Or, 5 times Emily’s lap makes for a good seat. Requested here.

Word count: 6.5k (woah!!) (this says nothing about me)

A/N: it’s not mentioned which seasons this takes place in but I imagined season six emily because…yeah…..yall already know. However the last part does skip to uc emily (and married reader and emily yey :3). Clearly I went wild with this fic lol. I hope you like it <3

1.

You’re the last of your teammates out the door of the precinct. 

Just as you were following Morgan to the car, you realized you’d forgotten your phone—which was lying on the bathroom counter, forgotten in your haste to finish up before everyone left—and circled back in for it. It took a bit to find, your head cloudy with exhaustion after four consecutive days of working on the case. You slide it into your pocket now and briskly cross the parking lot to the open door of the SUV, starting when you find Emily already seated at the edge. Reid sits beside her, trapped by Morgan on his other side.

You blink at the three agents already stuffed in the backseat. JJ took the other SUV to drive a shaken victim home, and most of the precinct’s officers have already retired for the night. Only a few other cars loiter in the lot, the lights in the building dimming fast, throwing the night in more shadows. You quickly do the math and cringe at the solution.

You’re a grown adult. You hardly weigh a feather. Reid would probably snap under your weight, Morgan’s slight smirk already hints at the teasing you’re in for if you sat on his lap, and Emily…

Sitting on Emily’s lap is the last thing you should be doing right now. Just the flick of your eyes towards her spread thighs makes you fluster, swallowing hard at the way her left knee encroaches onto Reid’s space and forces both of his neatly together in front of the center console. Heat gathers on your neck, intensifying with the force of everyone’s eyes on you.

“Reid should get up.” You blurt before anyone says anything.

“What? No—I’m already seated, why should I get up?” His voice goes high pitched, his bottom lip jutting out in a sulk.

“Because.” You press your lips together, waiting for someone to back you up. They don’t. Traitors. “You’re a stick figure, honey. I’m—”

“You can sit on my lap,” Emily offers.

Oh, hell no.

“What?”

“She won’t bite, cupcake.” Morgan drawls, grinning when Emily shoots him a glare. “But you’re plenty welcome to sit on my lap, if you’d prefer. I know Prentiss here can get a little intense.”

Her jaw ticks.

“Come on, Y/N.” Emily isn’t harsh, but she’s not exactly patient, either. “It’s just for a few minutes.” Her eyes flick up to Hotch in the driver’s seat. Yours do, too, but your boss says nothing about the probable—no, definite—laws you’ll be breaking by finding yourself a seat atop one of your coworker’s thighs. So you do it.

“Is nobody concerned about breaking the law here?” You ask, but the attempt is half hearted. Everyone’s exhausted, and the outside chill is starting to creep in through your thin shirt.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Rossi says easily. “And we just placed a serial murderer in custody. I think the sheriff will let us off the hook for an unlawful ride back to our motel—for some much needed rest, might I add.”

Hotch turns to look at you. “I could drop them off and come back for you.” He offers.

“What? No, that’s—it’s fine. Fine. Whatever,” you mutter, shaking your head. It’s fine. The motel is hardly 15 minutes away. You can survive that long, surely you can. Looking at Emily, you try not to let it show how nervous you are—if you do, she’d back off, steadfastly refuse to sit you on top of her, and probably get out herself and demand from Hotch that he come back for her later. Which is really more trouble than all this deserves.

Fine. You’ll sit on her stupid lap.

“Don’t blame me if your legs go numb.” You mumble as you climb into the car, feeling your voice tremble in the back of your throat.

“Give me a little credit,” Emily says dryly. Her hands settle on your waist, lightly steadying you as you close the door. It shuts with a loud thud, and you gingerly settle yourself on her thighs. Her knees, really. She’s closed them to give you more space—space you don’t use as you lean forward and hold on to the back of Rossi’s headrest. You all but hover above her lap, holding most of your weight up and leaning into the seat ahead of you. 

It hardly takes a minute before your thighs start to tremble with the exertion. Emily’s hands leave your waist; they leave behind a strange mix of hot and cold under your clothes. The absence of their weight is infuriatingly disappointing. 

Hotch glances at you in the rear view mirror. “All good back there?”

“All good, boss,” Emily replies.

He drives off. You grip the headrest tighter as the car lurches onto the road, the low speed knocking you off balance.

Shit.

Emily’s hands return to your waist. Her fingers dig into your sides, gripping firmly through your clothes. You swallow, hands going clammy even before she leans in, her chest just brushing your back.

“You can sit.” She says into your ear, the whisper of her voice so low it’s almost elusive. “I’m a big girl, I’ll be fine.”

Something tickles your neck. You think it could be her hair. “I’m not exactly light as a feather.” You mumble haltingly, the particles of her fading perfume swimming in your lungs.

“And I’m not Reid,” Emily shoots back a little too loud.

“What?” Reid asks meekly.

You both ignore him. When the car drives over a bump in the road, you teeter. 

Emily’s hands grip you tighter. She exhales a low, frustrated breath; it skims the skin of your neck, teasing the fine hairs at your nape to stand on edge. 

“Careful, Hotch,” she mutters, fingers flexing on your hips.

The car slows. Everything is starting to cramp—your fingers around the headrest, your thighs trembling with your own weight, the heels of your feet digging into the floor between Emily’s. Outside the window, the precinct is still in view.

This is ridiculous.

You inhale a quiet breath. You’ll move back when you let it go, you decide. Holding it for a beat—two, three—you let it inflate your chest before exhaling and slowly easing yourself back onto Emily’s thighs. Inching back as if she won’t notice, gingerly letting your weight drop on her lap the more you scoot further into her. Your back finds the rounded softness of her chest. The curve of her knees nestle under yours. 

You bite your lip, bracing yourself for her to push you back up to her knees—or hell, even throw you at Reid—but all she does is tug you up further into her. She squeezes once, lightly, clearly satisfied. You relax a fraction as her hands leave your waist and loop around your hips instead, a makeshift seat belt to keep you against her chest.

“This okay?” She whispers, a hand pressing against your ribs. You’re not sure if you imagined the shake of her voice or not.

You nod silently.

Muscles tense, back ramrod straight, you try to breathe in slowly and hope that Emily’s fingertips don’t catch the edge of your racing heart. They dig in lightly, much looser than the firm arm anchoring your hips to hers. You can feel the heat pooling between your bodies—doubling, spreading, scorching. 

You’re used to Emily touching you. But not like this. She squeezes your elbows, shoulders, gently nudges the small of your back and lets her fingers linger when she adjusts something for you—your vest, hair, swiping invisible lint off of your clothes. You like those touches, you seek after them and glow warmly from the inside when you earn them oh so easily. But this? Oh, this could just kill you.

“Relax.” She says quietly. You fight hard against the urge to squirm at the warm fog of her breath on your neck, a small squeeze to your waist going unnoticed. “We’re almost there.” The rumble of her voice vibrates through her chest and into yours. 

The car tilts. Or maybe it drives over a pothole.

Either way, you’re dizzy.

Blood rushes hot under your skin. You bite your tongue, refraining from snapping at Hotch to hurry the fuck up when a deep inhale from Emily jostles your chest as well. 

It’s a small miracle that you get out of the car without stumbling, knees weak and legs boneless. The cold air slaps your cheeks and gives you reprieve from the heat burning them. You don’t get a good look at Emily until you’re in the elevator, trapped between her and the wall; the moment your eyes fall on her, her gaze snaps up. 

The corner of her mouth curls imperceptibly. She wets her bottom lip, dragging it into her mouth with a shine of teeth, the shadow of a dimple flashing, there and gone in an instant. 

Her cheeks are pink.

Oh, heaven help you.

2.

Your whole body feels like it’s been rammed by a truck. Your feet throb in your shoes, your shoulders ache, and your lower back is finally getting back at you for the way you’d outrageously slouched for the large majority of the three hour car ride. Two agents, a few hundred miles—hardly worth a whole jet for their comfort, right? Sometimes you think the BAU has you spoiled.

But then again, here you are, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, leaning against the front desk of a dilapidated motel lobby because for some reason—in spite of the laughably low demand—yours and Emily’s rooms still aren’t ready yet. The scrawny guy at the front desk had looked at you confusedly, scratching his chin and mumbling, that’s tonight? much to your dismay. You hadn’t been hoping for a five star service, but the least you can ask for is a ready room by the end of the night.

He’d scampered off—presumably to get the rooms ready, but it’s been ten minutes and he’s not back yet which leads you to think he’s maybe avoiding the disgruntled glare you’re throwing at the wall. It’s not like you can help it at this point. Your hip aches where you lean it against the vacant desk, and every so often you enviously eye the lone chair that Emily occupies in the narrow stretch of space so generously called a lobby.

And that’s a whole other thing, because you’re trying hard not to stare. 

Emily’s bag rests in the wide open space between her spread legs. Her hands are on her thighs, fiddling with the creases in her slacks like she always does, idle, her head lazily tipped back against the wall but her eyes still razor sharp. 

You wish she would just close her damn legs. Every time your eyes fall on them, unabashedly staring at the flex of her thighs when she restlessly shakes them out, you’re reminded again of the car. The overwhelming heat of her body, the strength of her hands on your hips—protective.

It does nothing to help your massive, debilitating crush on her. Not when you now fluster every time you see her sit on a damn chair, gaze wandering to her thighs and the way they held you up, the smooth scent of her perfume settling down in your gut with each inhale. Talking to her is even worse. Somehow, the line has blurred more. You have no idea where you stand, what you are, or how you’re expected to behave. You’ve always been an overthinker, but this is bursting your head.

Safe to say, work has been hard lately. Especially with Emily’s amplified flirting. At least, that’s what you think it is. You can’t figure her out sometimes (most of the time) when her lips stretch into a smooth curve, eyes going sparkly with playfulness and words dripping charm you can’t tell is manufactured just for you or is mass distributed to everyone in bulk.

You snap out of your head when Emily lifts her head, arms crossing over her chest. Drawn to the movement, your eyes meet hers.

“You’re sulking.” She notices.

Her calm tone grates on you. “I’m tired.” You snap. “I’ve been on my feet for half the day.” And you’re hogging the only seat. But you’re mindful enough to hold your tongue on that one. She’s hardly the reason you’re in this mess.

But she is making it harder to deal with—in several aspects.

“I’m pretty comfortable if you want to sit on me.”

You blink at her, irritation wavering.

Her eyes go the slightest bit wide. Lashes blending into bangs, a deer in headlights look there and gone in a flash. The inside of her cheek moves with what you think could be a bite as her mouth opens, brows delicately drawing together. “I mean…” She begins then trails off, her usual silver tongue failing her.

You feel your mood lighten. Emily’s cheeks tint a faint red and you press your lips against a smile, trying to ignore your body’s reaction to her words. Because you know damn well how comfortable she is.

“How forward of you. Or you could get up,” you suggest, halfway torn between laughing and bursting into a ball of flame.

Where’s the stupid reception guy?

Emily’s chivalry fails her. “I’m not getting up, I’m tired, too.” She protests, bringing her knees together. Your eyes drop to them. “I’ve been in heels all day.”

Your lips purse in displeasure.

It only takes a few quiet beats before Emily sighs, bending down to reach for her bag. “Okay, fine.”

Your eyes widen when you see what she’s doing. Immediately, you back down. 

“Hey, no, don’t. It’s okay, I was just complaining—”

She gives you a docile smile. “I don’t mind, babe. I’ve been sitting for a while—”

“Emily, don’t you dare get up—”

She ignores you. Before she fully stands, you walk over to the chair and sit down, forcing her thighs back on the seat. 

Emily lets out a quiet huff; the flimsy chair almost knocks backward from your sudden assault, teetering on its back legs. She steadies it and grips your hip, long lashes fluttering up at you as her thumb digs in under the hem of your blazer.

Oh, god, what have you done?

The corners of her lips twitch, messing with the pattern of your already unsteady pulse. “See?” She says, her voice strangely high pitched, “Now we’re both sitting.”

Your arm is just shy of her chest. When Emily inhales a little too deep, the buttons of her shirt press against your bicep—a short kiss, then gone. 

You’re still numb with your own stupidity. Only your eyes do any good, scanning her face and watching as the blush deepens on her cheeks, fair skin blooming red in real time with the fast pace of your heart.

You move to slide off her lap. Emily holds you in place. “What, am I that bad of a seat?” She murmurs, her arm lightly circling both your thighs. If you weren’t so focused on trying to control the heat in your face, you would have lingered on the strange tremble of her voice.

You ignore how heavenly it feels to sit down. You also ignore the way the tips of her fingers rest on the crest of your ass.

“I’m making you uncomfortable.” You say, horrified and unsurprised to find your voice choked.

Emily shakes her head, mussed bangs slipping from their place. “You’re not, promise. Besides, it’s—uh, it’s not our first rodeo.” Her brows raise, a small arch. 

You flick your eyes away, overwhelmed by the small distance between your faces.

Her hands loosen their grip. “But if it’s—if you’re uncomfortable, I mean—”

“I’m not.” You say quickly.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Her hands disappear from your body. You try not to make it obvious you’re staring—or disappointed—as she hooks one arm over the back of the chair, her nail notching on the tattered skin of her thumb. She peels away at her cuticle, repetitively picking at the skin as she watches the open doorway of the lobby. Her nail digs in, twists, and draws blood.

“Stop.” You take her hand unthinkingly, wincing at the sight of her nails. Emily’s eyes are hot on your face. “Doesn’t that hurt?” You ask, your thumbs gently holding either side of her wrist.

“It’s an easy pain.” Her voice is breathless. “Manageable, I guess,” she shrugs, her eyes darting away.

You frown. Her cuticles really are a gnarly sight—uneven skin and jagged nails and blood on her thumb. 

Emily’s hand twitches in your loose grip. You look up, she looks away again, swallowing as her eyes return to the door. A visible pulse beats in her throat; the line of her jaw is sharp. 

Her leg starts jolting. You jolt with it.

“Emily—”

“Uhh, your guys’ room is ready.” The receptionist says as he walks into the lobby. He briefly stares at the largely inappropriate sight in front of him. You stand quickly, fixing your clothes.

“Room?” You echo.

“We only have one available.” He says bluntly.

Your eyes meet Emily’s. Any retort you expect from her dissolves into silence, the both of you staring at each other with similarly wide eyes, hot cheeks.

Well, shit.

3.

When you see the guy from the corner of your eye, you tense. He’s almost concealed in the shadows frothing at the corner of the bar’s walls, waiting just beyond the bathroom you came out of. You quietly curse and dodge through a group of giggly women in hopes of losing him. 

He’d been practically glued to you at the bar, sidling up to your side with lecherous eyes and overwhelming cologne, both of which left a sour taste on your tongue as you ignored him from behind your shoulder and placed the team’s orders. When JJ came over to help you with the drinks, he stayed behind, but the heat of his eyes followed you all the way back to the table, lifting the hairs on the back of your neck. You saw him while dancing—lurking at the edge of the floor, inching closer until you hid behind the broad line of Morgan’s shoulder. Now he’s materialized on your way to the bathroom, and still he’s on your tail. You could deal with him, you know that—and your friends would be more than happy to—but it’s not worth causing a scene over.

At the table it’s just Reid and Emily. Hotch and Rossi are both long gone, and everyone else is busy dancing as Reid rambles over a bowl of forgotten chips, mouth moving rapidly, hands gesturing wildly in excitement. Emily nods along and pops nuts in her mouth with smooth flicks of her wrist. Her hair is fluffed from her earlier dancing, skin gleaming under the lights. You see her, knees spread, arm hooked over the back of the booth, and it sparks your brain.

“Emily!” You gush, slipping into the area between the table and her body and promptly dropping into her lap, both your legs slotting in the ample space between hers. 

She stiffens, her body going tense when your ass perches on her thigh. You briefly hate yourself as you press yourself into her chest, draping an arm around her shoulder and pressing the flat of your wrist to the warm, smooth curve of the nape of her neck. “Behind me,” you breathe into her ear, the dark strands of her hair rustling to skim along her exposed collarbone.

Emily instantly relaxes. Her arm slides around your waist, heavy and strong, fingertips idly skimming along your side as if she’s been doing it for years. 

“Sweetheart, what took so long?” She murmurs sweetly, the warm drawl of her voice turning your knees to mush. Her eyes meet yours and you go almost nauseous with want, dizzy at the way the bar lights outline her irises and make them gleam, dizzy at the honey-thick pet name that burns in your blood. You draw a sharp breath, stomach clenching; it trips in your lungs when her slender fingers graze your jaw, teasingly getting a feel for the hard bone nestled under your skin. “You had me worried, I was about to come looking for you.”

You can barely think. You know you’re too heavy, all your weight on one of her thighs, probably numbing it beyond belief, but you’re fixated on the way she touches you still. The searing heat of her gaze is enough of a touch all on its own. Having her look up at you, lashes so glossy they look wet, is a strange high you can’t get over.

“B-Bathrooms were full.” You stammer. You’re sure your pulse beats through your wrist and right into the back of her neck. It’s too much, all of it—her warm hands, the solid muscle of her thigh flexing as she brings it, you, in closer. Turning your head, you accidentally meet the guy’s gaze, his looming form jolting you back into reality. 

You tense on Emily’s lap. 

She feels it. Her hand leaves your jaw to grab your thigh, securing you further into her chest. The inherent protectiveness of it makes you flutter. 

“Can we help you?” Her voice sharpens as she turns too, her eyes narrowing. It’s a tone you recognize—the unforgiving edge she serves to unsubs in interrogation rooms, cold and stripped of mercy.

You almost shiver. The guy certainly does, though he tries to hide it with a stony glare.

“I’m alright,” he snipes, dragging his now disgusted gaze up and down your body. Emily’s hands tense, flexing on your hip and thigh until he finally turns with a shake of his head, sulking away to the bar.

You straighten the moment he does, inching away from Emily’s chest. “I’m so sorry,” you say breathlessly, clambering to get off of her lap. “God, Emily, I don’t know what came over me—”

“It’s okay,” she says, her voice tender but her lips pressing together into a thin line. The edge of her jaw hardens. “How long has he been bothering you for?”

You grimace as you settle on the booth next to her, eyes flicking up to Reid. You’d forgotten he was there, honestly—he’d been observing in silence, and other than his concerned look he doesn’t give any other reaction.

“A bit,” you say, not really wanting to elaborate. Emily’s eyes look far too murderous right now, and, really, this was supposed to be a fun night out. The enjoyment has fizzled out like flat soda, and though you throw Emily a smile, your heart’s not in it anymore. Your head is too cloudy, stomach tangled and twisted in knots—half nervous, half lovesick. A small tremor rocks your hands. “He was just being bothersome. Really, it’s okay, Em.” Before you can think you’re leaning over, your lips finding her cheek in a quick kiss. 

You’re close enough to hear her sharp intake of breath.

When you lean back you find that her pupils are blown, her lips slightly parted. A fleeting rush of confidence brightens your smile. “Thanks for saving me.” You murmur.

Her tongue darts across her bottom lip. “Yeah,” she says. Her voice is gritty, the smoky remnants of a bonfire. Emily clears her throat, “Yeah, anytime.”

You seem to have shocked her out of any reprimand. But you haven’t distracted her enough to stop her from splitting a cab with you and dropping you off, though your apartments are on opposite ends of the city. 

Fully composed, she drops a similar kiss on your cheek. Your keys almost tumble to the floor.

4.

It’s a strange sort of exhilarating to be allowed to brush your lips over the raven strands at Emily’s hairline. Her skin is warm, and after months of teasing, months of relentless tension, stolen glances and sly touches, here you are, red string finally pooled loose on the floor between you.

It’s a rare weeknight. Takeout has been ordered, movie switched on, and you get to experiment with things like these. Finally.

Her hair smells like coconut. You sift your fingers through it when you straighten, smiling as Emily’s arms gently hug your waist, her forehead rubbing against your torso.

“What was that for?” She asks as she tilts her chin up, the lilt of her voice curving to match her smile.

You really have no clue.

“Just because I can.” You shrug one shoulder. “I can, can’t I?”

Her eyes trap you from beneath coal-dark lashes. “Honey, you can try to set me on fire and I’ll let you.” She drawls, warm and flirty. You’re briefly caught off guard, too distracted by the velvet-smooth cadence of her voice to notice her hands skimming until they find your hips. Fingers curling down around the backs of your thighs, she tugs gently, forcing you in until your legs hit the couch.

“That seems irresponsible.” You stammer a little, flustering under her stare. She does it so openly, eyes unabashedly burning holes into your skin and flaying you open. 

You somewhat thought that confessing to her would make it easier on your heart. You now know you were dead wrong.

Emily tugs more. You all but stumble into her, bracing a hand on her shoulder to keep yourself steady. It’s not hard to know what she wants, but you play dumb anyway, a roiling pit settling in your gut.

“Emily,” you say nervously, “what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She indulgently squeezes the soft of your thighs. “Sit.”

“I’m good,” you blurt, tensing against her hands. “I don’t wanna bother you, plus there’s plenty of room over here”—you gesture to the couch—“your couch’s awfully comfy, I don’t know if you know—”

“You wouldn’t be bothering me,” Emily interrupts softly. “Not at all. Is something wrong?” She asks after a beat, when you’ve let the silence stretch. You chew on the inside of your cheek and shake your head, trying not to squirm away from the intensity of her gaze.

Her hands loosen on your thighs. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.” She says seriously, all previous mirth gone. “Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean I expect stuff like that from you.”

“I know,” you say, your skin itching. You fiddle with the hair that cascades down her shoulder, for some reason stuck here in front of her though she’s not holding you still. The truth is, you know how good it feels to be that close to her. To feel the strength of her beneath you, the warmth that glows in the gaps between your body and hers. There’s a certain…safety in the space between her arms. You can only imagine how it would feel when you’re both openly allowed to be affectionate with each other, all previous barriers crumbled and broken down at your feet.

Emily takes your hand and brings it to her lips. Her kiss is just a gentle press, the slightest pressure on your knuckles. “Okay,” she says softly, smiling as she pats a spot on the couch next to her. “C’mon, I want to start the movie.”

You love her for letting it go. It’s a comforting warmth under your skin, and it’s just enough for you to ignore the anxious churning in your stomach.

“I want to.” You say, voice hushed as you place the backs of your fingers along her jaw, dispelling nervous energy. “I want to be close with you like that, and it’s not…it’s not that it makes me uncomfortable—I mean, we’ve tried it before.” Your lips twist into an ironic smile.

“Then?” Emily nudges, her hands gently roving over the sides of your legs. The whisper of her too-soft tone is almost too much.

You puff out a small laugh, chest aching. “Come on, Em. I’m not exactly the lightest person in the world.”

Her expression doesn’t shift. “So?”

“What do you mean, so?”

“So, what does that have to do with anything? I’m not the lightest person in the world, either.” Her shoulders raise in a shrug, brows furrowed like you’re not making sense.

You can’t believe she’s making you spell it out. It certainly wasn’t something your previous partners were ever hesitant about, never mind the teasing tones they used in a futile attempt to soften the blow. Baby, my leg’s gone numb—with a squeeze of your waist, a condescending had any dessert today? masked by a smile, the way it pulls enough of a reason for you to clamber off with a bad taste in your mouth.

But stupid, kind Emily.

“I’m too heavy.” You say flatly.

“Not to me.” She shoots back, her palms hot on your thighs. “I can take it.”

Heat flares at her words. You gape, mouth dry, “Jesus—”

“I can.” Her voice drags into a half whine. Emily’s eyes flash, her nails digging into the fabric of your jeans. “Come on, give me a little credit here. You’ve sat on my lap before—”

“Because I had to.”

“And did I drop you? Did I complain? Honey—” She shakes her head, the drag of her tongue across her lip briefly distracting you. “Let’s get one thing clear here. You want to and I want to, right?”

You nod.

“Then all you have to do is worry about being comfortable. That’s it. I want you here.” She says clearly, enunciating every word. “You’re not too heavy, and you definitely won’t be bothering me.” Her eyes go soft, her fingers rubbing over your pulse where she’s still got your wrist clutched in her grip. “I got you. I promise.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “You really don’t mind?”

“Please.” She breathes, as if she might die if you don’t. 

Your face must give, because her hands are gently nudging again. This time you don’t fight the pull, letting her help guide your knee up to the edge of the couch, then further. Emily’s other arm circles your waist and tugs down to get your hips to meet hers. You hesitate, hovering above her.

“I’ve got you,” she murmurs. Her smile is gentle, reassuring. You return it nervously as you settle in the rest of the way, her hands never leaving your body even after you sit with a quiet breath. It’s awkward at first; you shift to get comfortable, moving your limbs this way and that, but Emily waits patiently until you do. You finally find the right spot, your knees settling on the sides of her hips, snugly hugging her narrow waist. Your heart pounds in your ears, just about drowning out the sound of her low, almost inaudible sigh.

“Hi, gorgeous.” She beams, all but throwing the light of the sun in your eyes.

“Hi.” You lean into her hand when she cups your cheek. Her other draws patterns on your hip. “I didn’t know you wanted me to sit on your lap that badly.”

“Are you kidding?” Emily places a small, singular kiss on your closed mouth. “The thought hasn’t left my mind since you first sat on me in the car. It was so hard to keep my hands to myself.” Her voice has gone smoky, low and rumbling through your chest.

She didn’t, really. You would’ve said just that, but you don’t think you can say anything. She’s overwhelming you—totally, completely. The hand on your hip moves gently, traveling and squeezing; her fingers trace up from your jaw to your cheekbone, sometimes reaching the corner of your eye before returning to carve the same path. And just—her. The scent of her perfume and the curves of her dimples and the exposed triangle of her throat all thanks to her form-fitting shirt. Her touch, the relaxed slopes of her posture. The way she smiles and leans in to nuzzle her nose into yours.

It’s not possible for her eyes to soften further, you think, but you’re proven wrong. “You’re thinking too much,” she whispers. “Don’t think.”

Her lips seal over yours, warm and sweetened with her saccharine words. She traces the seam of your mouth with her tongue, slips her hand under your shirt and palms the warm skin of your waist, aiming to distract. You hardly last before melting into her, muscles gone liquid. When she kisses you like that, you couldn’t form a thought if you tried.

5.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Emily only looks slightly guilty. She’s warm with the glow of the desk lamp washing over her, pen held between long fingers, hand stilling over yet another report. You blow out a huff as you cross the floor of her home office, trying to hold on to it and not let your lips twitch into a smile when she rolls her chair back automatically, leaving ample room for you to slot in between the desk and make yourself comfortable on her lap. Because really, there’s nothing funny about this. It’s nearing midnight. You’re sure she hasn’t left that chair in more than a few hours.

“You should be in bed.” Emily murmurs. Her hand settles warmly on your waist, her thumb tracing the slopes under your pajama shirt.

“You should be in bed.” You return none too gently.

“I will be,” she promises, dropping a kiss on your mouth, “in a minute.” 

You level her a look, knowing full well she’s lying. She’s trying to soften you up with kisses and touches, but this has happened enough times that you’re (mostly) unaffected. Emily sees the unyielding line of your lips, and she places another kiss there.

“I just want to finish this last one. It won’t take long.”

“It won’t,” you agree. “But then there’ll be the next one, and the one after that, and the one after that”—you ignore her sigh—“and that will sure as fuck take long.”

You hate how work-oriented she’s been. Emily loves her job—and you do, too, you get it—but this is more than loving. It’s obsession, perfectionism, working herself to the bone. She used to be the first one out of the office. Now she’s the one declining team drinks because she’s busy with her paperwork, the high pedestal of her looming office distancing her from everyone.

From you.

You miss your wife. You’re with her almost every day, your steps in time with hers, but it hasn’t been the same lately. The skin under her eyes is constantly dark with exhaustion, calluses hardening on the sides of her fingers from hours of continuously holding her pen, and she’s been trying to hide the strain in her neck but you feel the knots every time you cup the back of it, trying to coax her away from uncomfortable chairs and bloody files.

You shift on her lap, knees spreading to slot her waist between them. It’s become a natural move, smoothened with time. Now you bring your chest almost flush with hers, your pelvis to her hips, hands spread over her ribs—just to feel her here with you.

“You’ve been neglecting me.”

It seems a petty, selfish thing to say, but it hits home. The fight immediately leaks out of her, the skin between her brows creasing, her eyes going soft with regret.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes. “I know I have, I’m sorry. It’s just…”

She fidgets with the pen in her right hand. Hasn’t even dropped it, you notice, relying on her left and shifts of her hips to bring you in close. You fight the urge to pull it from between her fingers and instead rub wide arcs over her torso, thumb skimming over the softly fluctuating movement of her chest. The buttons running down the center of her shirt are cool under your skin. You toy with them. 

“You don’t know when to stop.”

Nimbly, you flick open the buttons of her Henley, starting from the bottom. One after the other, as Emily’s breathing quickens and fills the silence her words had failed to. The sides of the shirt wilt open; her skin shines gold under the lampshade. You dip your head to kiss it, honey-colored and just as sweet.

“When was the last time you went to bed with me, hm?” You murmur, involuntarily smiling when her thighs flex under yours. “Just went to bed with me, and we fell asleep together. Can you remember?” Your hand roams, finding the hem of her sweatpants and slipping past. Emily’s chest rises sharply under your lips. 

“Honey.” She grips your waist—her right hand still notably absent. “I really need to—”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Your teeth dig into her flesh. Emily hisses lowly, muttering a curse as you soothe the sting with your tongue. “’M’sorry,” she says breathlessly; you look up to find her pupils blown, bottom lip blooming a fresh red like she’d bitten on it. “I know I’ve been caught up with work, I’ll do better, promise.” 

You skim your fingers over her hip bone. Emily jolts beneath you, her thighs tensing again. Her hand is hot on your cheek as she brings you in, kisses you with more attention than you remember getting from her in weeks. You can feel the desperation behind it—an apology—as your hand wanders deeper between her thighs. 

“I’ll do better, amor,” she mumbles against your mouth, frayed and trembling. 

It never gets old how she reacts to your touch. Nothing gets to her like the feeling of skin on skin—kisses, squeezes, tight hugs and idle fingers everywhere. It’s how she communicates, how she wants to be communicated with, craving the weight of your touch and the whisper of your skin. There’s solace in the scarce bit of space between your bodies. 

You hum against her mouth, fingers nudging past damp fabric. They wade through searing, wet heat, and immediately get soaked to the knuckle. Emily’s hips buck into your hand, a choked gasp on her lips. 

“You don’t know when to stop,” you murmur, wrist already cramping at the angle. With your free hand, you skim idly over her jaw, feeling her stuttering pulse under your finger. “I can do that for you, sweetheart. You’ve got a lot on your plate, I know, so let me help, hm? Even Unit Chiefs need a little support.” Your fingers sink home, and Emily’s lashes flutter. “Yeah?” You whisper.

“Y-Yeah,” Emily gasps. The skin at the base of her throat gleams. You curl your fingers and she breathes your name; you tilt on her lap, rising with the rock of her hips, but her grip on you is bone-crushingly tight.

“Been so long, hasn’t it, Em?” You’re thrumming now, blood hot under your skin, your pajama pants sticking to your thighs from her overwhelming body heat. A tilt of your wrist, a slow circle with your thumb, and her jaw clenches. 

The sight of it sends sparks crackling down your spine. It’s like you’re drunk on her. 

“It’s okay.” You kiss her chin, catching the edge of her lips. “I won’t let it happen again. And neither will you, right?”

Emily whines quietly, both her hands digging sharply into your hips. You smile, the gesture gone unnoticed beneath her closed eyes.

Paperwork is the last thing on her mind.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi@temilyrights@professorsapphic

[toruro]

— ✧ guilty as sin

pairing: mingyu x reader

genre: smut (18+ / mdni), non-idol au, open ending ... (pt 2 perhaps?)

word count: 8k

description: the thought crosses your mind that this is something you definitely shouldn't be doing. that what you're just about to do will be a terribly wrong move for you and your freshly broken heart.

warnings: alcohol & (mentions of) marijuana consumption

tags: mingyu and reader went to same high school, y/n and mingyu both are freshly out of relationships, blowjobs, sex, dirty talk, idk they banter a lot i think theyre cute so believe me

a/n: so this is a fun little piece ... i do have a plot outline for a part 2 and 3 but totally depends on if u guys want to see more of them ... anyways i know i have been mia with my writing but i really like this piece so i hope u all enjoy >_< tysm to the lovely @gyuswhore who beta read this for me bc everyone knows i don't proofread anything

“He’s single.”

You ignore Nayeon’s statement, pretending to scroll through a cafe’s website on your phone.

“He’s single,” she repeated, clearing her throat for a moment before. She’s unsure if you heard her.

Still no response. You try bopping your head to music, hoping Nayeon will think you’re extremely engrossed in the faint music from the radio.

She doesn’t.

“Mingyu’s single, damnit!” Nayeon yells out this time, and you obviously are caught off guard by the way you nearly jump out of your seat.

You crane your neck at her and frown. “I know Mingyu’s single! I know he’s single, Nayeon, but that doesn’t explain why he never replied to my message!” you cry out, throwing your hands in the air. “If anything, this makes things worse—that means he’s available and plain doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Nayeon shakes her head at you, turning her eyes back to the road. “That’s not true. I heard he only broke up with his ex recently. Maybe he’s just taking a break from … well, you know: other girls. I think that’s fair.” You don’t say anything, but you know she’s right. “And I think …” Nayeon follows, while you mentally prepare for what you know she’ll say, “I think you should learn to do that too.”

“Nayeon!” you whine.

“What? You also just broke up with Taehyun—there should be a waiting period, don’t you think? At least like—four months.”

“Four months?!” you screech. It’s a passing thought that she’s right. Deep down, you know that space is just what you need—a vacation from boys—all of them.

“Yes, four months. Seriously, do you think you’re even emotionally over Taehyun?”

You frown at her question, because you both know the answer to that. For god’s sake, you’d called her crying over how you fucked up by breaking up with him. “I mean—”

“You know, I don’t even think four months would be long enough for you. You’re so far gone, I think you might need at least a year before you can emotionally commit to someone.”

“Wow,” you say dryly. “Didn’t know you knew me better than myself.”

Nayeon smirks at you. “I mean, I think we both know that’s true.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your shoulder, looking at the window. Even with her rather annoying (albeit correct) analysis of your feelings, you’re grateful for her emotional support, and her offer to pick you up from the airport.

“How have you and Cheol been,” you ask her a few moments later, hopefully diverting the conversation. Nayeon huffs at your persistence on not talking about this, but she finally lets up.

“We’ve been good. Long distance has been easier than we expected,” she replies honestly.

“That’s good, I’m glad,” you say, trying to ignore the way your heart pangs just a little. It’s unfortunate that you and Taehyun weren’t so lucky. You two lasted ten months of long distance before things began to crumble.

You push the thought of you and Taehyun to the back of your mind. Just even hearing his name is enough for your stomach to turning into ugly knots, memories flooding back to you about just how badly you fucked up.

You try to remind yourself that mistakes happen to be learned from.

You can only hope that you don’t let anything like that happen again. Ever again.

It’s the next night when Nayeon climbs into your car as you park out in front of her place. “Coming home for break never really gets old, huh,” she says, buckling up over her lacy top.

“Cute top,” you compliment as you pull out of her driveway and make your way back onto the road.

“Thanks. Cheol got it for me,” she replies with a grin. “You ready for the night?” she asks with a slightly sarcastic laugh.

“Rhetorical question?” you shoot back with a raised brow. “Honestly, I’m not sure. It might be nice to see everyone together again, but also I’m glad that we left a lot of those people in the past.”

“Ooh, what do you mean by that?” Nayeon coos, and you both laugh together.

“As if you don’t know what I mean. I can’t imagine you’re exactly looking forward to seeing Renjun again.”

Nayeon grimaces deeply when you say that. “Why would you say that?” she whines. “Just had to go and remind me about him …”

“Nayeon, I love you but I’m not apologizing because you’re literally going to see him in ten minutes.”

“Whatever. Anyways, I know I told you to take time away from guys, but you’ve been pretty mopey about this whole thing with Taehyun and—”

“Hey! You said it was okay if I talked about him.”

“Before you rudely cut me off,” Nayeon snaps, “I was going to say that it’s okay to be upset about him. I just think maybe it’s also okay to let him out of your system, y’know? Deep clean sorta thing.”

You cock an eyebrow at her. “And how do you suggest I do that?”

“Well I was getting to that! You know who’s going to be there tonight?” she says excitedly.

“Oh let me guess,” you say flatly, pausing for an intentional five seconds before deadpanning, “oh my gosh, Mingyu?”

“Yeah! Come on, be more excited about it!” Nayeon cheers you on.

You sigh dramatically. “You know, I would be a lot more excited about seeing him if he didn’t air me when I messaged him a month ago.” You physically cringe whenever the image of your lone message in the chat with Mingyu pops into your head.

are you going to be home for the break?

He never responded, casually on brand for Mingyu and his nonchalance.

“The others haven’t talked to him since high school right?” you confirm with Nayeon. “None of you guys were really friends with him, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah, I mean all of them don’t like him,” Nayeon says, referring to her other group of friends. You furrow your eyebrows.

“I guess he was kinda mean in high school …” you reply with a sigh. It’s true. Mingyu was kinda mean. Nayeon gives you a questionable look.

“No—well yeah—but they all don’t like him because they liked him and he didn’t give a shit. Hell, even I thought Mingyu was cute, but he would like never do anything with any of us.”

You purse your lips. You didn’t know that. “Oh really,” you say dryly.

“Yeah,” Nayeon says with a half laugh, and then shoots you a smirk. “That’s kinda why at the beginning of senior year Seoyeon was kinda, well, you know—”

“Bitchy,” you finished off for her. “I guess it makes sense,” you continue with a little sparkle in your eyes. You feel a wave of giddiness wash over you as you let yourself smile when you say, “I mean, I did get to kiss him.”

When you were with Taehyun, you always tried to avoid thinking about what happened that one night in senior year. Drunk for the first time ever, sharing a few puffs of weed with Mingyu, and there you and him were, cuddling on Nayeon’s friend’s couch in the living room in front of all of your friends. And then eventually the couch turned into a bed, and you weren’t surrounded by your friends, you were surrounded by four walls and a locked door, and of course you weren’t cuddling—damn it—you were on Mingyu’s lap and kissing him.

But of course, it was no perfect evening, because then the ruckus that follows 10 shots of alcohol began to crawl up your throat, and Nayeon was banging on the door (god, who’s room even was this?); so you flung yourself out of the room and hurled into the toilet across the hall.

That’s all you remember from the night, but unfortunately your friends reminded you of your rather poor alcohol decisions when you were sober the next morning.

“You kissed Mingyu!” they had said. “That’s fucking crazy. Didn’t you like him like two years ago?”

You had grimaced at them. Shrugged, trying to act like that wasn’t all that was running through your head because yeah, you did like Mingyu two years ago and it might’ve been a silly little hallway crush but god, if he didn’t have your stomach doing twists and turns for no damn reason and—

Eyes on the road, you remind yourself when you feel like you’re getting too caught up in your thoughts. Clearing your mind as you near the parking lot of the bar, you and Nayeon chat up on the latest gossip about all the people you’re about to see.

Soon, you make it into the bar, and you’re met with a myriad of familiar faces. They greet you with polite small talk and it’s a little bit funny. You have seen these people at quite possibly the most embarrassing era of their lives; and they had seen you at yours. It’s funny how you now exchange awkward smiles and unfamiliar handshakes with these same people.

You say hi to them slowly, one by one, checking them off in your head. Renjun … Joshua … Wonwoo … Seungkwan … Soonyoung … and the list goes on. Silently, you brace yourself for the last person of the lot.

Everyone’s conversing among themselves, so you’re confident that no one’s going to watch the horribly awkward interaction you and Mingyu have when your eyes meet as you approach him. You both might have agreed to pretend nothing ever happened between you two, but there’s something uneasy in the air right now. You haven’t seen each other in over a year.

You’ve been watching him from the corner of your vision. He’s got on a black button up, casually unbuttoned, shiny watch glinting against the dim bar lights, dark wash jeans that make his butt look really nice and—

God, you need to stop getting so ahead of yourself. You find yourself almost faltering in your step, getting caught up in your thoughts when you approach him.

“Hi,” you say to Mingyu once you finally find yourself in front of him. You try and distract yourself from the way heat is rushing to your face as you remember that he’s probably read the message you sent him, but you hope he won’t bring it up.

“Long time no see,” Mingyu responds with a smile you can’t quite read. You two stand in a bit of an awkward silence before you get the feeling that you don’t really want to be in this situation anymore. You clear your throat and straighten your back upon the realization.

“Well,” you say, letting your eyes wander elsewhere in the bar. “It was nice seeing you. I’m gonna just—” you point at Nayeon with a few of your other friends by the barstools, “—get going, you know, and—” you almost find yourself rambling before you choose to shut yourself up and walk away.

As you’re turning away, you hear Mingyu call your name for god knows what reason.

“We should catch up,” he says casually.

There it is. That’s it.

You turn back to him for just a moment, flashing a smile and a nod, before going back to spend some time with your other friends.

It’s about an hour and a half later, and you and your girl friends are past the pleasantries and now knee-deep into sharing the raunchy details of the past few semesters at college.

At some point, the drinks everyone had gotten at the beginning seemed to be running dry, so Seoyeon says, “Hey ladies, anyone ready for another few rounds of drinks, or—”

“Or even better!” Sakura squeals. “Shots! Who wants shots?!”

All of your friends cheer, and you smile along with them. “You guys go ahead,” you tell them when they start picking their stuff from where you’re seated to the bar area. “I’m driving tonight, so I’ll pass,” you explain, patting Nayeon on the shoulder.

She hugs you from the side, murmuring, “Ugh, you’re the best,” before joining the others as they head for their new round of drinks—or shots, was it—or maybe both—who knows? As they start walking away, you see a tall figure walking toward you, and once you recognize just who it’s about to be, your stomach does a flip.

“Hey,” Mingyu greets you once again, after the others all leave, and you’re scared to look him in the eye. You can see it from the corner of your vision: that gleam in his eyes. It’s mischievous, almost, but mixed with something else you can’t quite figure out.

He’s an enigma, you remind yourself again, and you don’t think you’ll ever quite figure him out.

“Hey,” you say softly, unsure what to follow with. You grip your mocktail from earlier a little tighter, using your other hand to stir it round with the thin straw.

“So, how’ve you been?” Mingyu asks you with a smile, raising both his eyebrows in a way that almost makes you want to call him cute. He leans against a wall beside you both, and gosh—it’s sexy too, and it’s driving you ‘cause he’s cute and he’s sexy at the same damn time, and you just can’t wrap your mi—

The question. You need to answer his question.

“I’ve been … alright,” you tell him, finally lifting your gaze to look up at his eyes. They’re staring right back at you, and you may not be under the influence, but you’re definitely under his. “Pretty good, recently actually,” you decide to add, some rush of excitement flooding over you. “You?”

Mingyu smiles at your near chirpiness, still holding eye contact. “Guess I could say the same. I’ve been better,” he says, and you both chuckle. “But I’ve been doing good, especially back here at home,” he says.

“Yeah,” you agree, “Something about this place, huh?”

“Something about this place …” Mingyu repeats, “Yeah. Well that’s fuckin’ true. It makes me feel a certain way.”

“Brings back the memories for me,” you say.

“The good?” Mingyu asks with a bit of an open-mouthed smile. “Or the bad?”

You look up at the ceiling, holding a finger to your chin while pretending to think intensely. “Both!” you conclude after a few seconds. Mingyu lets out a small laugh at your display, and then you find yourself thinking about that stupid four letter word. Cute.

“Cheers to that,” he chuckles, holding his bottle of beer up to you. You hold your mocktail glass up as well, clicking the glass with Mingyu and smiling together.

“Hey,” he continues, “can I get you another drink? Not sure how long you’ve been holding onto that one, but it seems like it’s no good now anyways.”

“Oh, no, no, no! I’m not drinking tonight—gotta get Nayeon and myself home safely. This is so I still look like I’m having a drink. Mocktail,” you tell him.

“Oh really? That’s funny. I never took you as a DD kinda girl—I’m much more familiar with the version of you that … well, you know.”

Yeah, yeah you did fucking know.

“What can I say, I’m a changed woman,” you claim coolly, aiming to act unbothered by what he just brought up. You take this as your chance to lean into him a little closer, holding your drink up to his nose. “What? Don’t believe me? Smell it.”

This time, Mingyu leans in even closer to you, hardly a foot of space between you two. You can only hope no one sees you two like this. Luckily for you and Mingyu, everyone seems to be a bit preoccupied with their own shenanigans elsewhere.

“Guess I believe you,” he finally concludes, lifting his head back up and settling back in his previous position. “So how’s school? Heard you’re running with that—what is it—math degree?”

“Yeah,” you reply with a smile. The thought of Mingyu hearing about you and remembering the details has you feeling some kind of way. “Got a few more courses left and then I can graduate! I’m assuming the same for you—only two more semesters, yeah?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I might go abroad this next semester actually,” he tells you.

“Oh really. Where’re you headed?”

“Spain, hopefully. Still waiting to see if I’ll be able to graduate on time if I go.”

“Wow,” you say in a breath. The image of Mingyu walking the roads of Spain under the sun, his tan skin glowing from the— “Wow, yeah. Spain is really cool. I’ve never been.”

“You should stop by,” Mingyu says with a shrug, almost too casually. You narrow your eyebrows at him.

Just as you’re about to respond, Nayeon drapes herself over you from behind, a little more than tipsy to add. You’re a bit startled, eyes wide and facing Mingyu as you both take a few steps, backing away from each other.

“Hey,” Nayeon greets with a faint slur, pointing a lazy finger at Mingyu. “This,” she says exaggeratedly, this time moving her finger to point at you, “is my lovely DD for the night, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t take her out for a puff.”

Mingyu gives her a flat look. “Wasn’t planning on it,” he says dryly, clearly bothered by Nayeon’s interruption.

Nayeon shrugs and you’re a little bit confused as to why she’s suddenly acting with this edge of hostility towards Mingyu. (Last you checked, their families were friends, and Nayeon was one of the only girls here who didn’t truly dislike him.)

“Wouldn’t count on it, you know, given what happened the last time,” Nayeon bites back, and this time you’re the one to be slightly irritated.

You shrug her off your back, saying, “Nayeon, don’t worry, I’m not gonna smoke or anything—trust me.” You think thoughtfully, glancing between her and Mingyu who has an indecipherable look on his face, and then you add, “And Mingyu wouldn’t anyways. I already told him I’m driving home. Why don’t you go hang out with Sakura? Looks like she’s calling you over.”

“Really?” Nayeon squeals, and just as quickly as she showed up, she’s gone again.

You chuckle as she hurries off, turning back to Mingyu. “Sorry about that,” you tell him sheepishly when you catch the way his lips are pursed tightly.

“Your friends will never let that up, huh?” he says, and you think he almost sounds annoyed as he takes a sip of his drink.

You raise a brow. “Have your friends let it up? Probably not, huh?” you bite back, a little mischievously. You’re both teetering around the topic—not exactly talking about what happened that night years ago, but at the same time, you’re both definitely talking about just exactly that.

Mingyu chuckles. “Touche.”

You’re unsure of what to say next. You can’t quite tell where this conversation is headed—if it’ll lead you to another dead end—another few years of shoving your lust for Mingyu to the back of your mind before he pops up again and makes you start all over again. There’s always going to be a little spark though, kindling somewhere inside you, ready to plunge yourself into this man you hardly know.

“Senior year was kinda crazy, wasn’t it?” you say with a sly smile.

When Mingyu mirrors the look on your face, you swear you feel the spark turn into a small flame. “Yeah, you could put it like that.”

You’re surely not intoxicated, but when you sense him shuffling a little closer to you, running his hands through his thick dark hair, a wave of boldness courses through you. “Do you miss it?” you ask, almost innocently, with your big pretty eyes staring up at him.

Mingyu smirks. “I probably should say no … but that would be lying. And I am no longer a liar.”

“Oh, has the Kim Mingyu retired from his title of pathological liar?”

Mingyu laughs this time, and it’s hearty. “I have, but just for tonight.”

“Does that mean I’m never going to see this truthful, honest version of yourself again?” you whine with a fake pout. You’re treading unfamiliar waters here, but you can’t remember the last time you had this much fun single.

Mingyu gives you a warning look, but then smiles. He opens his mouth, ready to respond, when Joshua calls out his name.

“Yo Mingyu! Check this out!” he yells from across the bar.

“Give me a second,” Mingyu calls back, but just as he’s about to turn back to you, Wonwoo speaks up.

“Nah Mingyu, you gotta come over now. Soonyoung’s doing this weird ass thing and—hurry up! He’s not gonna do it again and—” You hear a series of unintelligible shouts come from that area, and Mingyu gives an apologetic look before tending to his friends.

There’s something in his eyes that told you, this isn’t finished yet, but before you know it your friends scoop you up from the table area and pull you over to where they’re playing pool. Soon, any hopes you had of talking to Mingyu again were slim to none, both of you two involved with whatever your friends were doing, but also conscious about how it would look if you guys talked alone for any longer.

You can’t handle the speculation.

You’re pretty confident Mingyu wouldn’t be a fan either.

Later that night, you drop Nayeon off at her house, and then make your way back to your own home. After doing your nightly routine, you slip into the soft covers of your bed when you hear a soft buzz come from your phone.

You’re not exactly sure who’d be texting you at this hour, but as you reach for your device, something in your stomach just knows.

You’re smiling before you even tap your screen.

You’re grinning by the time you see the name pop up brightly.

mingyu: my fault for not responding earlier mingyu: so boba tomorrow at 8?

“Can’t remember the last time I had boba past 6 pm, to be honest. Weird choice,” you remark, tapping on the kiosk to adjust your order to your liking.

“You gonna be sassy about every decision I make?” Mingyu huffs, standing right by you in the empty little boba shop. You hum, as you continue to finalize your order.

“Mm, that depends.”

“On?”

“On what kinda decisions you make.”

Mingyu scoffs. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda my thing, you know?” you reply cheekily, clicking on the ‘Ready to Pay’ option on the screen. Just as you’re about to pull out your card, a firm hand is on your shoulder. You look up at Mingyu as he gently pushes you to the side and replaces your spot in front of the kiosk.

You don’t say anything as he punches in his own order, pulls out his credit card, and pays for both of your drinks. As the machine outputs the receipt, you show him a small smile. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

Mingyu gives you a look. “Yeah, I did.” There’s a bit of an awkward silence. Mingyu paying for your drink isn’t too weird—your guy friends in college buy you food all the time! Albeit you do occasionally return the favor, it never feels anything more than platonic.

So why does it give you butterflies when Mingyu so casually puts you under his tab?

You choose not to care. You’re not expecting anything out of this, after all. This is just for all good fun—reminiscing, if you wanted to put it like that.

“What’d you get?” you ask him, breaking the silence, as you peer over his arm to glance at the receipt. The action has your cheek brushing against his shoulder, and something tells you the both of you are thinking about it just as much as the other.

“Passionfruit green tea,” he says, holding the receipt closer to you so you can read it more clearly.

“Mmm, yummy,” you say gleefully, giving Mingyu a cheeky smile.

“Hey,” he scoffs. “I didn’t say I’d let you try my drink! Don’t get ahead of yourself now,” he teases.

You pout and furrow your eyebrows. “What the hell, Mingyu? Why not?” you cry out overdramatically. “Oh come on, I was gonna share my toffee caramel tea with you!”

Mingyu rolls his eyes playfully. “I don’t like toffee.”

“I didn’t know that! I would have ordered something else then.”

“Too bad you didn’t,” Mingyu replies with a carefree shrug.

You glare at him, stomach fluttering with something youthful—you’re having fun with Mingyu. “That’s not fair!” you whine.

“Must suck,” he says indifferently, watching you cross your arms over your chest from the corner of his vision. Something sparks inside Mingyu in the moment, watching you look up at him through your thick lashes. “Maybe I can give you a sip or two …”

Your eyes glow. “Really?”

Mingyu grins. “Yeah, but you’re going to have to repay me.”

Your eyes meet, and there’s something electric in the way you look at each other. The thought crosses your mind that this is something you definitely shouldn’t be doing. That what you're just about to do will be a terribly wrong move for you and your freshly broken heart.

But Mingyu’s eyes are glimmering, and there’s something in your stomach that is yelling at you to stop thinking so damn much and slam on the accelerator. You beam up at him with a challenging gaze.

“How do you want me to do that?”

An hour later you’re in Mingyu’s room, stumbling through his door with your hands already all over each other. His lips are soft against yours, peppering short but hot kisses all over you, your face, your neck and—god, fuck, how does he know about that one spot on your neck?

“Ah, Mingyu,” you moan quietly when his hands palm at your hip, fingers sliding under your shirt and brushing over your skin. His hands are warm, but still you shiver at the touch—just knowing it’s Mingyu and you, alone in this moment, is enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Well, that, and the way he’s got his tongue tracing over your collarbone. He’s too good at this, you think to yourself for a moment, before getting lost in the feeling. Soon, he brings his lips back to yours, and you kiss fervently as you stumble backwards into his bed.

With the back of your knees hitting the mattress, you both go tumbling onto the sheets, and suddenly everything feels all too familiar. Mingyu’s hands in your hair. Your lips glossy and swollen as you start to press kisses into his neck. The growing heat between the two of you.

You and Mingyu twist around in the sheets for a blissful moment, clothes and hair going awry as your limbs intertwine in this hot, messy mess of a hook-up. At some point, Mingyu ends up underneath you, back propped up against the mattress so that he’s sitting up straight, your legs straddling him as you nestle in his lap.

With your hands all over each other, he’s got his grip on your hips, pushing them up and forward in a curved motion that has you grinding against him. “Fuck,” you whimper when you feel his painfully hard length brush against your throbbing heat.

Your tummy tumbles at the prospects of what’s to come. Pulling back from Mingyu’s hot lips, you get to see him in a way you never thought you’d get to again—cheeks flushed, eyes fluttered shutted, and swollen lips partially open and panting for breath. His dark wisps of hair come down over his forehead, sticking to the thin layer of sweat that coats his tan skin.

Slowly Mingyu begins to open high eyes, laughing lightly. The sound makes you want to grin into eternity. Gently, he cups your face and pulls you in for a kiss, this one much softer, much lighter than the ones before.

Mingyu kisses you with what—dare you say it—care. He kisses you with care, he holds your chin as if it were made of glass, he brushes his tongue against yours in a way that tells you he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here and—

The thoughts have you reeling. Has being sexless for the past few months made you this vulnerable? you think to yourself in a passing moment; has the lack of male physical contact been this detrimental to your ability to have sex without feelings?

The moment passes, and you choose to push your thoughts to the back of your mind, pushing your lips harder into Mingyu’s to fuel a more fiery, more aggressive kiss. He groans into it, and the burning heat you feel every time you grind down on it makes it impossible for you to wait longer.

Slowly, you pull away from him and scoot down the bed between his legs. For a moment, Mingyu is still in a daze, eyes half open as he still imagines the feeling of his lips on yours. You inch down further, bringing your hands closer and closer to the waistband of his jeans.

Right as your fingers brush over the little bit of skin that peeks between his shirt and his belt, Mingyu lets out a soft gasp. Looking up at him, you’re met with the sight of his blown out eyes as he reaches down to hold your face again.

“I-I know I said you gotta repay me, but you know, you don’t really have to—not like this at least. I mean you can, but not if you don—” Mingyu rambles for a moment, and you almost want to use that god-forsaken word. Cute.

“Hey,” you say quietly, pressing your index finger to his lip. “Lemme do this—I want to.” You feel him relax under you, the finger that was on his lips slowly tracing down his jaw and then his neck, inching to his collar and—

Oh, he’s already gotten started on unbuttoning his shirt. You almost forget to get back at it, with the way you’re staring him down right now. Mingyu chuckles a little, watching the way your eyes dilate as you gaze over him.

“Like what you see?” He says it in a way like he knows what he’s doing to you. Like he knows you’ve got a puddle between the crest of your thighs.

You’re not shameful enough to stop yourself from grinning and nodding, “I do.”

Mingyu’s eyes flame with that hunger you’ve seen before. He likes the way you’re doing this. “You’re the fuckin’ devil aren’t you?” he coos, as you start to unbuckle his belt, pulling down the waistband of his pants. He lifts his hips as you pull them further down, patiently waiting for your response.

“The devil … you must think red suits me then,” you say it like a question. The way you smile tells Mingyu you’ve got something hidden up your sleeve. While he shrugs off his unbuttoned shirt, you sit nestled between his legs still fully clothed.

Mingyu watches you as you tug at the hem of your shirt before gently pulling it over your head, revealing a deep red lacy bra underneath.

“Speak of the devil herself,” Mingyu breathes out with a small smile, continuing to watch as you shimmy off your bottoms and reveal matching red panties. You admit: it’s doing a lot for a first boba date, but you can’t help but think it fits the scene perfectly.

Mingyu leans forward, pressing kissing on the bare skin of your chest as you play with the waistband of his briefs before finally pushing them down to reveal his length. Looking down, it’s long and it’s pretty and it’s thick, with veins pushing up against the sides.

With a soft gasp, you pull away from Mingyu and slowly settle yourself lower in the bed so that you’re laying stomach side down right in between his legs. Mingyu watches you from his view above; he watches the ways your eyes slowly gaze over his dick, fingers inching toward it before finally wrapping around the base.

He nearly gasps when you do—and Kim Mingyu is no virgin—but something about the warmth in your fingertips and the softness in your touch has him feeling electric. So when you bring your tongue to his shiny tip and lap, he straight up moans.

The sound alone has you opening your mouth wider, taking him fully into your mouth and down. Immediately, Mingyu’s hands shoot to your head, scooping up bundles of your hair and holding it behind your head. Slowly, you find yourself in a pattern of moving your head up and down, except there’s just one problem.

Mingyu is far too big and he’s far too gentle—you can’t fit enough of him in your mouth and he’s not exactly pushing you down so you think it’s time to take some action.

So as gently as you can, you begin to hollow out your cheeks and push yourself further down his length, eyes shutting when he hits the back of your throat. At once, you hear a loud groan and if you could move your lips right now, you’d be grinning.

And so you do it again. You pull your head back up and just as your lips are about to leave his tip you come back down and push as far as you can go, each time going a bit further down than the last. You do it a few more times before your jaw begins to ache for a break, and you pull yourself off of him completely.

You’re met with Mingyu’s dazed eyes as you look up. “You’re crazy,” he pants, fingers still tangled in your hair. “Holy fuck, you’re crazy.”

You grin up at him. “Sorry,” you say cheekily, watching as he throws his head back, taking deep breaths of air. His firm chest rises up and down heavily, and the heat between your legs grows at the realization that you’re the one to have him like this.

“Don’t apologize—shit—that was so—d-do that again,” he says, eyes darkening when he looks back down at you. His hands gingerly wipe some tears from your cheeks, going back up to hold your hair all the way back again. “That was so fucking hot.”

Your stomach churns as you part your lips again, wrapping them around his tip which now adorns a pretty stream of pre. He groans again when you envelop him in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you start to move down again.

To be honest, you’re not usually this good at giving head, but with Mingyu, he’s got this—oh, there it is—the way your name rolls of his lips in a deep, guttural tone that has you gushing in your panties, and then you can’t help but press down more.

So you do it again, and again, until Mingyu’s practically thrusting his hips up as you take him into your mouth, his handsome face glistening with sweat from restraining himself. You don’t know how much time goes by but at some point you feel a tug; you look up and it’s Mingyu’s hands guiding your head off of him and pulling you into his mouth.

He kisses you messily, tongues licking into each others’ mouths as you shift so that you’re back at straddling him. With Mingyu fully naked, your bare stomach presses against his skin when his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close.

Instinctively, your arms wrap around Mingyu’s neck as you continue to kiss into him, bodies melting into one. You ease back to your previous movement of grinding into him, but with such little fabric between the two of you this time, it’s getting harder and harder to wait.

It doesn’t take long for his hand to make its way to your panties, rubbing your heat over the soaked fabric for a moment before lifting it and pushing it to the side.

Mingyu pulls away now, watching your face slowly contort into expressions of pleasure as he runs his fingers up and down between your sopping hole and clit.

“Mingyu,” you manage to whimper through heavy breaths.

“Yeah baby?” The nickname itself nearly has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He probably doesn’t have a clue about what he does to you.

“Can’t wait,” you tell him quickly, hands already grabbing for his glistening length. Mingyu, a little startled by your forwardness, falters back into the headboard a bit, relaxing for hardly a second before he feels your fingers guiding his dick toward your hole.

He thought he’d sit there and finger you first—give you a good eating out because if anything, Mingyu’s always really wanted a taste of you first—but something about the way you look at him with these eyes that look like you’d give him the world and more has him bending to your needy wishes/

So, when his tip is finally at your entrance, you both moan loudly. Your fingers make your way up to Mingyu’s neck, playing with the soft and short hairs that sit at the nape of his neck. “Oh,” you say in a sigh when his hips gently push you down to envelope his tip.

Even having him in your mouth couldn’t prepare you for taking Mingyu’s length inside of you. His tip, thick and bulbous, presses into you, and inch by inch you begin to let out small gasps.

“You’re—holy shit, you’re so big, M’ngyu,” you whimper.

You say it so cutely, Mingyu can’t help but groan under his breath. “Yeah?” he manages out, trying to hide the extent to which you’ve got him in a daze. “Can’t take it?” he coos.

Mingyu is, at the very least, extremely pleased when you—you, in your lustful, hazy state—still manage to cock an eyebrow at him and retort, “Of course I can.”

“Atta girl,” Mingyu murmurs, smiling with pride as he reaches for hips. Lowering your body over his dick, he watches you carefully while you continue to take him all in.

The way your chest heaves up and down in short breaths as you try to control yourself. The way your eyebrows pinch together every few seconds when you let out a small moan. The way your stomach twitches and turns when he brushes a finger over your clit.

You’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful to Mingyu, he doesn’t think anyone can comprehend all the ways he wants to fuck you right now. Well, that is, anyone but you, because as soon as your bottom is pressed against Mingyu’s legs and you’ve gone as far down as you can go, you bring yourself back up and grind back down on his dick.

“Fuck, do that again,” Mingyu demands, but it comes out as nothing more than a pleading gasp as you both get used to the feeling of each other—it’s overwhelming, yet in the best way possible. “You’re so damn hot,” he murmurs when you repeat the motion, pressing wet kisses into your neck.

Each roll of your hips is punctuated with a quiet moan from your lips, the two of your lips meeting every few moments in a fiery but fleeting kiss. Mingyu fills you up so deeply, in a way that leaves you wanting more and more.

Your body is on fire and you can’t seem to stop now. It’s just—Mingyu’s got his dick pressing all the spots inside of you that have you biting down on your bottom lip, that have you digging your fingers into the hard muscle of his shoulder, that have you moaning into his mouth.

But even your own body has limits, because while the feeling of you bouncing back down on his length every time is nothing short of euphoric, your legs only have so much strength. Gradually, your legs begin to get sore.

Within seconds Mingyu notices the falter in your movements, and suddenly his hands are under your thighs, picking you up, and flipping you onto your back. Your back is now against the mattress, head resting on a soft pillow as Mingyu readjusts above you.

“Getting tired?” Mingyu chuckles, as he reaches down for his dick, aligning it at your entrance once more. A needy whine escapes your throat when he finally is inside of you again, his length filling up what felt far too empty in those passing moments before.

“Didn’t—ah! D-Didn’t take you as the type to make the girl do a-all the work,” you bite back.

Mingyu cocks his eyebrow at you, and you almost want to grin at the way his eyes darken at your challenging comment. “You got a bad bad mouth, huh? Let’s see if you can talk much anymore soon.” You open your mouth to respond, but at the last moment, Mingyu pushes that last bit of his length inside of you, effectively rendering you speechless as you see stars and try to quiet the rush in your ears. Mingyu just laughs. “Didn’t think so.”

He pauses for a few seconds inside of you, and you take this chance to admire him in a way you didn’t get to before. His skin is flushed all over, pink blooming over his cheeks as he swipes a tongue over his lips. As your gaze travels down, you catch sight of his abs once again, and you can’t help but grin at just the idea of getting to see him like this.

Now, Mingyu starts out with his first thrust. It’s deep, and unforgiving might you add. You shriek loudly, not expecting to fill you up even more than before, yet somehow it’s both equally overwhelming and infinitely more euphoric.

Based on the volume of your response to the first, he follows with another thrust, this one nearly as moving. Your responses mimic the last, and soon, Mingyu enjoys the pleasure of seeing you become a moaning mess beneath him.

So there Mingyu is, fucking the daylights out of you, one his palm cupping your cheek. And now here he goes, jotting his thumb out and pushing against your lips. It doesn’t even take a second for you to part your lips, his thumb slipping inside.

“Good fucking girl,” he grunts under his breath where you roll your tongue over the pad of his finger tip. Faintly, Mingyu recalls the way you swiped your tongue over his dick and there he goes with a particularly hard thrust at the thought.

Your legs are folded up completely, thighs pressing into your chest deeply every time Mingyu pounds into you. A moan stifles up one after another, muffled by his thumb in your mouth, but somehow not getting any quieter.

It’s around this point when Mingyu starts to feel it, the way you squirm a bit more after each deep, pointed thrust. The way your mouth starts to widen more and more, moans getting louder by the moment. The way you’re tightening around him—and there goes his queue.

His thumb in your mouth is pulled out and quickly moved down your stomach between your legs and right on your clit. That’s when you move from moaning to downright whimpering—whining—into Mingyu’s shoulders.

Your toes begin to tighten as he continues to slam into you, every muscle in your body beginning to go limp as you rake your fingers into his back, trying to hold on to something to ground you.

“I know baby,” Mingyu moans, his hands holding onto your hips with such a tightness you know you’ll be left with bruises.

“I’m s’close,” you manage to gasp out, hips meekly pushing up as well to meet Mingyu’s half way. You’re trying your best to keep to it together but fuck, it all feels so good—his skin is so hot but somehow your core feels even hotter.

You feel tears of pleasure roll down your cheeks when you finally feel it—Mingyu’s length so deep inside of you, pressing up against your walls in all the right places—and so you crash.

Moaning and whimpering and writhing beneath him, you cry out when you finish, “Mingyu, fuck! I’m—’m coming.”

To which Mingyu gently kisses your neck while roughly pounding into you harder, now trying to meet his own end in deep fervor. “I know baby, I know jus’—fuck,” he nearly cuts himself off with his own moan when he feels your tight pussy squeeze around him. “Just’ hold on for me a little longer s—oh.”

You’ve got some spell on him. That’s got to be it. A damn spell has got to be the reason Mingyu’s finding himself way quicker than he’s ever before.

You’re brain is a bit too fucked to register the beautiful mix of shock and pleasure that crosses over Mingyu’s face when he begins to paint your soft walls white. “Fuck,” Mingyu groans loudly, pressing his dick so deep into you that you think you’d be able to feel it through your belly.

You squeal softly at the feeling—your pussy is now a hot, sopping, sensitive mess, and Mingyu’s cock is just far too long and far too fat for you to handle. However, the feeling of his seed fill you up has a warmth that overtakes the slight feeling of discomfort.

The air in his room begins to grow quiet and still as Mingyu finally slips his softening length out of you. You still lay with your back against the sheets, Mingyu pulling himself off without a word and flopping down on the bed next to you.

This silence is new.

It’s not uncomfortable, but there still seems to be some unspoken words that fill the space between you and Mingyu. Only the sound of your heavy breaths fills the room, the erratic patterns steadily starting to even out.

“Was that enough repayment for you?” you finally ask casually, breaking the silence. Mingyu chuckles softly.

“It was … pretty nice, I guess,” he responds, pushing himself up into a sitting position to fix the covers more comfortably over the both of you.

You narrow your eyebrows up at him. “Pretty nice? I’m gonna kill you!”

This time Mingyu laughs. “What do you want me to say? Yeah, it was fucking amazing?”

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Well, would that be the truth?” you challenge him, a smirk making its way onto your lips.

“Of course it would be,” Mingyu scoffs—something about his shameless admission of praise has your cheeks burning and eyes lighting up. “But if I say that, then it means you’ve fully repaid me, and that means that we don’t have to do this again.”

“Ah I get it, so you’re lying to me so you can fuck me again,” you reply. Mingyu rolls his eyes at you.

“If that’s what you want to call it,” he pauses, and looks like he’s contemplating something before continuing. “But I mean, you can totally say no. Because with the way you’re talking, it seems like you aren’t interested so why don’t I save you the pain of having to reject me and—” As he turns away to grab something from his night stand, you cut him off.

“Hey, I didn’t say that!” you exclaim once you catch where he’s going. You say it so brazenly it startles Mingyu a little, and he turns around to face you.

Your eyes meet and oh—there it is again. That feeling in your stomach, a warm knot that tumbles around. You’re not sure what it means. You’re not sure what this means—this being you laying in Mingyu’s bed.

Something in the way Mingyu looks at you tells you you’re not going to have an answer for a while.

Something in the way Mingyu smiles at you tells you that you’re at least going to have some fun trying to find out.

a/n: hopeeeee u guys liked it! btw reader is a self insert so if u don't like her GET AWWWT. anywho i was rly nervous about posting this but here we go ... wait can u guys believe it took me literally 3 months to write this smut. i had the entire fic + more follow up stuff but all i had to write was this chunk of smut in the middle and i didn't do it literally just because i didn't want to. i don't like writing smut in full lenth fics anymore (ramble time. pls ignore me) because i have to write the entire scene. like i enjoy smut drabbles because it's fun i get to experiment but unless it's a full length fic related to a sex relate concept then it's fun (aka crybaby). i personally don't really enjoy most of the other smuts i write for things like this fic + flight of the stars, etc, because it's just the same kind of smut scene rewritten in different ways. i feel i'm not even doing it in different ways atp—I FEEL I AM LITERALLY WRITING THE SAME SCENES I HAVE WRITTEN BEFORE. how many different ways can one write "oh my god that feels so good" like sorry. okay i'm done with my rant and for clarity i actually do not care this much. i just think it's funny but i get it because i like little smuts like this when i read it's just a pain to write because at some point it's hard to get creative and i feel like i'm being a lazy writer :/ i write all this and complain and blah blah but i do really enjoy it like OK yeah i spent 3 months writing this smut but it ended up being way longer than i anticipated so ummm whose fault is that?! (everyone look away from tumblr user toruru) ok sorry if u stayed til the end of this author's note actually please let me know and i will be sending u virtual kisses. anywhp pls feel free to leave comments/reblogs they mean the absolute world to me

[obsesssedblerd]

HI BBY HRU MAKE SURE TO DRINK WATER TODAY AND GET A GOOD NIGHTS REST YOU DESERFE IT XOXO

if there’s too many asks going on feel free to skip over mine but I was thinking 5 + Nanami? Xoxo

prompt #5: “Your ex never got you off?” 

pairing: kento nanami x f! reader

[18+ content below, MDNI]

contains: smut, cunninglingus, vaginal fingering, reader receiving oral for the first time

wc: 2k

likes, reblogs and comments appreciated <3 

a/n: seven of you requested this pairing omg.

— — — — — — 

Kento Nanami stares at you incredulously, and it reminds you of the way he looks at Satoru Gojo and Yuuji Itadori whenever they say something that’s a bit more on the sillier side. You look away, but you feel his fingers angle your jaw so your eyes are meeting his honey brown ones once more. 

“Your ex… never got you off.” He repeats your words back to you slowly. 

“I know it sounds crazy, since we dated for a while, but yeah.” You laugh nervously. You bring the champagne glass to your lips, then tip your head back, allowing the chilly liquid to slide down your throat. “He tried, and it couldn’t work. He mentioned something about how some women just can’t cum, so we both assumed that it’s the case for me. I remember—” 

Kento puts a finger to your lips, and you stop talking. He’s still staring, but this time, you can see the calculating—the plotting in his eyes. “Respectfully,” he says, his voice low. “Your ex is an idiot. I’m confident that he hardly tried at all.” 

You raise an eyebrow, and you shift yourself in the couch cushions to sit straighter. “I don’t think he’s an idiot, he was just…” You sigh as you trail off, unable to find anything polite to say about your ex-boyfriend. It was impossible, since he cheated on you. “I don’t know. Anyway, he definitely tried. Numerous positions, but nothing. It’s just something I’m unable to do.” 

He finishes the rest of his champagne before placing the empty glass on the living room table. He props an arm up on the back of the couch, then uses it to support his head. He’s still staring, still thinking. With his glasses and tie off, and the first few buttons of his blue dress shirt undone, your coworker looks even more handsome in this comfortable state. 

Kento inhales, then releases his breath. Slowly, he unclasps the expensive watch from his wrist and looks down at it. He remains like that for about fifteen seconds before you ask him, “What are you doing?” 

“Going to test something.”

“Test something like…?” You urge him to finish. 

He gently places the watch on the table next to the empty glass, then offers to take your empty glass as well. He leans towards you, and your heart pounds when his hand delicately strokes your cheek. The faint scent of his cologne fills your nose. His face nears yours, your eyes flicker to his mouth before fluttering shut. 

“Do you trust me?” He whispers against your lips, and you nod once before you feel his lips on yours. The kiss is gentle at first, but after wanting him for so long, you immediately grow hungry for more. You find yourself climbing on top of his lap, and he guides you there without breaking the passionate kiss, his large hands settling comfortably on your hips. 

You sigh blissfully into his mouth, and you feel your body heat up. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you savor every second and every feeling that this moment brings you. Months of keeping each other safe on missions, soft stares as you trade students for training and quiet conversations over coffee in the breakroom before meetings have all led to this. 

When he gently breaks away from you, both of you are slightly out of breath. His gaze settles hungrily on your low-cut top, and his fingers skim the hem of it. “May I?” He asks quietly. 

“Yes.” 

Kento isn’t fast; no, after craving you for many months, he has zero desire to rush any of this. His thumb brushes against the skin underneath your shirt briefly, then he grasps the hem of it, and pulls upward until it’s completely off of you, leaving you in your bra. Suddenly shy, you look away. You don’t know why you’re nervous; you’ve had sex before. You know what happens during sex. 

However, you don’t know how Kento Nanami operates. His kisses alone tell you that he’s nothing like your ex-boyfriend in the bedroom. 

“Hey.” 

His voice pulls you out of your mind, and you look back at him. He gives you a dizzyingly charming smile, his cheeks slightly flushed from champagne and want. “You’re beautiful.” He brings you closer and pecks your lips a few more times, then moves to your neck. “I’d like to taste you,” he whispers, and your breath hitches as he kisses the delicate skin beneath your ear. “Is that alright?”

You swallow thickly, and you manage to find some of your words. “Taste? I-I’ve never- No one has ever done that.” 

Kento hums as he pulls away, the corner of his mouth slightly lifting. “Your ex never went down on you?” 

You gently shake your head, and he exhales. “Disappointing, but not surprising.” One of his fingers fidget with one of the belt loops on your jeans, seeking permission. When you grant it with a single nod, he whispers to you once more. “Lie back for me.” 

He waits for you to lay down on the couch, and then climbs above you, caging you between his strong arms. He kisses you again, then begins to move lower, allowing his lips to explore your body, goosebumps on your flesh as they do. He carefully pushes your bra upward, and your head spins slightly when you feel his mouth wrap around one of your nipples. Large hands cup your tits as he sucks, massaging and gently squeezing. You release a sound that is something between a moan and a sigh, and Kento loves it. 

He takes his time, sliding lower and lower until he’s finally on his knees before you, fingers unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down your legs. Heat rises to your face, and you look towards the couch cushion, too shy to see his reaction when he finds out just how wet you are. You know that there’s a damp spot on your panties. Your knees are pushed apart, revealing the most sensitive part of you. His fingers hook your lacy panties, then peels them down your thighs and calves, leaving you bare for him. “God,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. You look down at him again, and arousal pools in your stomach at the utter hunger in his eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he sighs again, and you exhale shakily when he kisses a particularly sensitive part of your inner thigh. “So, so beautiful.” 

Over the next few minutes, you learn that Kento Nanami is a teaser. His lips are everywhere except your aching pussy, which you’re certain is dripping messily onto the couch. You’ve never felt this wet, so needy to the point you’re whining out his name, spreading your legs just a bit more for him. “Please,” you whisper. 

His thumb slides around the outer lips of your pussy, applying just enough pressure to tease your clit—where he knows you’re aching the most. So soft, he thinks to himself. Soft and very wet. There’s no way her ex is so stupid—so selfish that he’d pass up the opportunity to taste her. 

“Patience, sweetheart,” he quietly tells you, like a teacher softly instructing his student. “There’s no need to rush this. I promise, I’ll give you what you need.”

Once he’s certain that no parts of your delicate thighs are unkissed, his lips inch towards your core. His tongue licks slow, vertical stripes. “Ohhhhh,” you gasp, every thought draining from your mind as your head falls back against the cushions. “Oh, my g-god, Kento…” He’d just begun, but you easily decide that his firm tongue against your pussy is the most incredible thing you’ve ever felt in your life. 

Kento releases a deep groan, obsessed with the way you taste and the sounds you make. His tongue expertly swipes across your folds, teasing you for just a little while longer before he finally gives your clit some attention. You jolt when you feel his lips wrap around your clit and suck a few times, and his hands firmly hold your thighs open so you don’t squirm away from him. 

“You can grab my hair if you need to,” he says when he notices your hands palming at the couch cushions. Once your hands grasp his blonde strands, Kento goes back to eating your pussy like a man starved. Your moans are far louder now, any nervousness you felt earlier now completely faded away. You buck your hips when he slides two fingers into your sopping wet core, his tongue still rolling against your clit. 

When he sees how your breath is beginning to shorten, how your abdomen gently clenches and how your thighs twitch, he pulls away for a moment to look up at you. “Where my thumb is now,” he starts, using a thumb to rub your swollen clit, “did he spend enough time touching here until you’re trembling like this?” 

You meet his eyes, then shake your head. “No.” 

“Then he didn’t try.”

Inside of your pussy, his fingers curl upward and you nearly shriek when he begins to massage a weak spot within you, pleasure zipping through you with every movement. “And here?” He asks you again, his fingers unrelenting. “Did he ever find this spot of yours and touch it the way I am now? Even when he fucked you?” 

When you struggle to answer, he adds a bit more pressure, and your back arches off of the cushion. “Ahh! N-No, he didn’t!” 

“Then he didn’t try.” He reiterates a bit sharper. “Still believe he’s not an idiot?” 

You shake your head, and his rough palms spread you open a bit wider. “I want you to relax for me. When you feel it, and you’ll know what it feels like, don’t tense up. Breathe through it,” he tells you, the bass in his voice vibrating against your thigh before he tenderly kisses it.

You nod, and his mouth is on you once more, licking, sucking, devouring you. His fingers continuously stroke that weak spot, and the combination has you breathing hard. Your hands grip his hair tighter, and you buck your hips against his face, instinctively chasing something you’ve never had before—a release of the pressure building in your body.

Nearly there, Kento thinks to himself. 

You gasp and attempt to slither away, suddenly nervous about the intensity about the impending orgasm, but he grips you tight to keep you still. “Oh my goddd,” you whine, and he feels you begin to tighten on his fingers.

That’s it. 

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you try to do what he told you earlier and focus on your breathing. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, K-Kento…!” You cry out his name in warning, and he hums against your clit, encouraging you. 

Cum for me. 

When you climax, you feel like you drown in pleasure. You sob in relief as you grind against Kento’s face, and he licks and fingerfucks you all the way through it, savoring the sweetness of the juices that flow from your pussy. Once you’re finished and your body relaxes, he lifts his head from between your legs, his chin glistening with the evidence of your orgasm. 

He reaches for his watch that he placed on the table, his eyes glimmering with approval as he checks the time. “Twenty-two minutes.” 

“H-Huh?” You ask, trying to focus even though your mind still spins. 

“From the first time I kissed you until now, it took twenty-two minutes to make you cum,” he says, leaning forward to place a kiss on your navel. “Your ex spent so much time in your presence and in your bed, but he couldn’t put aside twenty-two minutes to make you feel good. Truly a selfish idiot. As you can see, you can orgasm,” he says quietly, then brings himself back up to you, your faces nearly touching. “You just needed a competent partner.” 

He kisses you again, and you moan as you taste yourself on his lips. Your hands begin fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, eager to have and feel more of him. “Want more,” you sigh in between kisses. “Want you.” 

“Good,” Kento smiles as he assists you in unbuttoning his shirt. “Because I’m dying to see how fast I can get you to cum on my cock.” 

[chamisulgrape]

watch me, watch me party on you 𖤐 [p.sh] pt.1

You and Sunghoon, the faces of two rival fashion brands, can’t stay apart after one night shared in the midst of New York Fashion Week.

part one | part two

pairing → sunghoon x afab reader word count → 6.8k tags → fashion industry setting, model au, nyfw, rivalry, lots of yearning and lust!, models falling in love during nyfw, confessions smut tags → porn with plot, barebacking (unprotected sex), blowjobs and foreplay, lots of spit/biting, squirting, use of petnames aka baby/darling, they're nasty and in love, minor dirty talk/degradation warnings → implied minor and subtle side relationship between sunoo and riki, who are the fashion designers in this au, please do not read if that upsets you in any way. you are not forced to read this in any way! hate comments and anything of the sort will be deleted and you will be blocked. not proofread a/n → hihi! this is a rewrite/revamp of another fic i have written previously on ao3, so if this seems familiar yes it is me! this is also my first time writing on tumblr since 2017-2018 when i wrote for bts, still learning my way around so pls be nice to me :3

♪ hope you walk in the party, cause i threw this party just for you.

minors pls dni.

"Are you nervous?"

You raise your gaze from the tape on the floor with your name on it, to meet Sunoo's calculating eyes. You swallow, and shake your head. "No."

You've trained your whole life for this opportunity. This is the moment they've been working towards for years. Now that it's in their hands, you're not going to ruin it. You're confident in your abilities, definitely, but what you're most confident in is making Sunoo and Riki proud.

"Good," Sunoo says, curt. He nods his head, looking over your suit—a careful and beautiful handcrafted piece, a piece in their latest and most criticized collection that is meant to exceed the norms of gender and all that alike—before calling Riki over. "You're our star. So go out there and make us proud."

Riki rushes over in seconds to peer over Sunoo's shoulder. "Everything good?"

Sunoo nods, brushing your suit off before disappearing to look after the other models.

Riki gives you a once-over just as Sunoo did, before running off and returning with a palette and a small makeup brush. You let him apply a sticky substance over your matte lips, and part them carefully when you're told not to smack. Riki uses his thumb to dab the corner of your lips and smiles. "You're perfect."

"Of course," you huff. "It's your guys' production. I wouldn't expect anything less."

Riki laughs and shakes his head. "That's what we like to hear. Don't tell Sunoo that, though. We don't want his ego skyrocketing any higher than it already has."

A staff member rushes up to them and gives the two of you a thumbs up. "Up in two."

Riki lets out a nervous breath. "You got this. Remember, loose—"

"—but not too loose." You finish. Riki reaches out to squeeze your hand once.

"Don't forget the pockets. And unclench." Riki frets over you some more before running off to find Sunoo.

The nerves don't hit you until there's less than a minute left. You're nervous, as anyone would be, but you're more excited. You want to be out there, showing that this is their brand. This is their debut. This is it.

It's Fashion week, it's New York, and you're going to make XO proud.

You stand tall and straighten your posture when you hear the music play, remembering what Riki said about unclenching and you relax your jaw.

"Go."

You do what you know best: you walk.

It's exhilarating; you live for it.

All eyes are on you—assessing and scanning over your outfit—like they're looking right through you. You can hear the questions already: What is XO? What do they stand for? What do you represent? You answer in the only way you know how.

You prove it by walking.

Like Sunoo said, you're their star. You're the face of XO and the person they specifically chose and nurtured and worked alongside for years, from the bottom of their brand up. You represent XO, and more importantly, you represent Sunoo and RIki.

There were no other candidates or options. From the very beginnings of XO, made in Sunoo and Riki's small studio, you've been there with them. They’ve come so far, to be holding a show amongst famous and respectable brands, and you are more than appreciative to be here with them. There’s nowhere you’d rather be than with the two people you cherish the most, doing what you love the most.

Towards the end of your walk, you spot him.

Sunghoon Park, face of PARADOXXX, sitting in the very front row.

You're not surprised that Sunghoon is here, no, you're more surprised that Sunghoon is looking right at you. Sunghoon isn't trying to look through you, nor is he holding his phone out to record like others are doing. Instead, Sunghoon's gaze is focused solely on you, and you feel as if Sunghoon is capturing the moment with his eyes instead.

Your heart almost stops when you meet Sunghoon's eyes. You look forward, trying not to let your gaze stray, but you can't help the way you keep taking subtle glances back towards Sunghoon. Your eyes are attracted to him, and you can't bring yourself to look away for too long. When your eyes meet for the third time, Sunghoon raises a brow, tilting his head slightly. You can feel your ears get hot, and you curse yourself for being distracted by him, but you can't help it.

Although there are over a hundred eyes on you, you can't feel as though Sunghoon is the only one really looking.

The last time your eyes meet as you near the end of your walk, Sunghoon winks. You make it your mission not to collapse until you get backstage.

"You're perfect! Perfect." Riki pulls you into a hug as soon as you make the turn backstage and then takes your hand to lead you further back and into a makeup chair. Sunoo comes shortly after, resting his hands on your shoulders and squeezing them lightly.

"Amazing, as always." Sunoo says, proud, before turning to Riki. "Retouch his lips."

Riki nods and Sunoo leaves with a kiss on Riki's cheek.

Later, as you watch through the TV to monitor the rest of the show, you notice that Sunghoon doesn't look at the other models the same way he looked at you. Sunghoon doesn't trap them with the same gaze he did you, nor does he look at any of the following models with the same eyes he looked at you with.

You can't get Sunghoon's eyes out of your mind, or the way he looked at you with want. Not a want of lust or greed or sin, but curiosity. A need to know.

Sunoo and Riki host XO's after party at DUMBO house that same night.

You're dressed in another XO outfit, one that Sunoo and Riki designed specifically for this event. They ditch the suit for a loose open blouse and a flowy pair of dress pants, and Riki chooses to do your makeup himself.

They take loads of pictures and videos for XO's social media accounts, and another ton of photos at the DUMBO House photo station before going off to meet the crowd of celebrities and contributors of the show.

"Have fun," Sunoo says, and proceeds to push a glass of champagne into your hands. "You deserve it."

You laugh, before your face falls. "Why does this sound like you're about to run off again?"

Sunoo shares a look with Riki before taking ahold of his hand. "Because we are. Have fun! Mingle!"

Your sounds of protest get lost on your tongue as Sunoo drags Riki away. You sigh, cradling your glass of champagne against your chest before going off on your own as well. You're stopped by various people asking for pictures or to congratulate you on the show today. You spend a few minutes talking to other models of the show and even Jang Wonyoung of IVE, before making your way towards the terrace.

The view from the terrace is breathtaking. You can see the river and the skyline from here, and you opt for setting down your glass to pull out your phone and snap a view pictures of the bridge and night sky. You're going through the photos you took when you're interrupted by someone sidling up next to you.

"Nice view."

You turn to see Sunghoon, in the flesh.

You startle, taken aback by their close proximity. Sunghoon tilts his head again, tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip, and you can't seem to look elsewhere. Unlike earlier during the show, you don't have to force yourself to look away now.

"Yeah, nice." You say, clearing your throat when your voice comes out hoarse.

Sunghoon takes a moment to sip from his own glass of dark liquor before speaking again. "You guys did great today. As always."

Your cheeks warm, and you look away from Sunghoon to down the rest of your champagne.

"Are you coming to our show tomorrow?" Sunghoon asks, and you turn to meet his gaze again. Sunghoon's hand has somehow gravitated towards you, now resting on your lower back.

"And if I don't?" You reply, fingers tightening around your empty glass when Sunghoon's fingers trace the open back of your blouse.

You know you'll be there, there's no way Sunoo and RIki are letting you miss out on a PARADOXXX show. But that's the thing about the game that you two are playing: you're the face of XO and Sunghoon is the face of PARADOXXX, two rival brands.

At the end of the day, the public knows that behind the rivalry and competition they like to fuel, Sunoo, Riki, Heeseung, Jake, and Jay are as close as best friends can be. They've been friends since grade school, and shared the same dream and ideas of opening their own brand with each other. The competition is fun for them, and they use each other as a way to keep their motivation and creative juices running.

(Also because they're all competitive bastards. You think that somehow they get off on winning.)

Still, you want to indulge the game you and Sunghoon seem to be playing by yourselves.

"I'd be disappointed," Sunghoon smiles softly, his hand falling from your back to rest on your waist. "I'd have loved for you to be there."

Your lips part at the sight of Sunghoon's smile. You knew that Sunghoon was pretty, handsome, and everything alike. Hell, you've known since high school, but Sunghoon has only gotten more attractive since, and you crave to know just how beautiful he is on the inside as well.

"Don't be too disappointed, Sunoo and Riki have already planned my outfit for tomorrow. You'll see me there." You grin, and you have to look away once Sunghoon smirks back. Damn you, for always being weak for pretty boys.

"Good," Sunghoon whispers.

"Good." You echo in reply.

They take a moment to bask in the scenery and view and each other, before Sunghoon breaks the silence again.

"Are we done with the small talk?"

Sunghoon squeezes your hand, and you wonder how you missed the fact that Sunghoon started holding your hand in the first place.

"What do you mean?" You tilt your head, feigning nonchalance. "We've only spoken a few words."

"I think a few words is enough, don't you think?"

"What do you really think?" You shoot back, and you know you're dangerously toeing the line between what you should be allowed to do, but it's exhilarating; the same way you feel when you're on the runway, you feel the longer you're in Sunghoon's presence.

"I think, Sunghoon starts, before using his grip on your hand to tug you closer until your chests are almost touching. He looks down at you, "That you should get to know me better."

"And you? Don't you want to know me better as well?" You ask, your glass of champange long forgotten as you hook a finger in one of Sunghoon's belt loops.

"I do, but I rather it be in the privacy of my hotel room." Sunghoon still has that wide, sharp grin on his face, and you find that you want to kiss it off of him, feeling the sharp edges of his fangs against your tongue.

Instead, you snort. "Wouldn't that be a headline? I can see it now. Us, faces of rival brands XO and PARADOXXX, seen eloping and spending a night together."

The smile you receive in return is blinding; melting and dripping warmth and love, and your heart threatens to pound out of your chest and into Sunghoon's hands. "Shouldn't we give them something new to write about?"

"Why should we?" You inch closer. You can almost feel Sunghoon's breath on your lips.

"I want you, and you want me. It's that simple." Sunghoon leans in, the tip of his nose barely grazing your own.

You reel back an inch, reveling in the way Sunghoon chases after you with a soft sigh. "Who said I want you?"

Sunghoon snorts this time, shaking his head lightly. "You've never been that subtle."

"And what about the others? I don't think they'll appreciate us leaving early, nonetheless being seen entering a hotel together."

"I don't think they'll mind that much, darling."

It's all you need to close the distance between you two, stealing the last syllable of Sunghoon's reply right off his lips in a chaste kiss.

The drive to Sunghoon's hotel is silent, and it takes everything in you to not jump Sunghoon right there in the back of the car.

You bite your tongue to hold back the small whimpers that threaten to come out as Sunghoon keeps his hand steady on your thigh, massaging the flesh there every so often and teasing over your crotch. Your eyes almost well up in frustration, and you have to dig your fingernails into your palm to keep you sane.

It feels like hours before you arrive at Sunghoon's hotel, coincidentally being your hotel as well.

"We don't have to take this to your room, mine is here too." You say once you're both in the elevator.

Sunghoon gives him a look of amusement. "Would you rather I do the walk of shame tomorrow morning? I have no shame in doing so."

You scoff, cheeks heating. "Shut up, you have. show tomorrow, it's fine. We'll do this in your room."

"You sound as if this is a job." Sunghoon crosses the elevator to take your hands into his, tugging him flush against his chest. "Am I not entertaining you?"

“You—” you huff. “You’re plenty entertaining. Entertaining and insufferable.”

Sunghoon hums, before surging forward to press his lips to yours. He bites down on your bottom lip softly before pulling away, laughing softly at the whimper you let out. “You don’t sound like you hate it.”

“I don’t.” You push Sunghoon off of you when the elevator dings, announcing their arrival to Sunghoon’s floor.

Sunghoon trails after you, catching up to you to wrap an arm loosely around your waist and steering them down the floor and in the direction of his room. When you arrive to his room, he pulls out his keycard to unlock the door. “Last chance to back out. Take one step in here and I’m not letting you go.”

You snort, pushing past him to enter the room yourself. “You’re so insufferable. Hurry up and give me what I came here for.”

“You’re so mean, darling. Here I am trying to sweep you off your feet, and you’re telling me you only want me for sex?” You hears Sunghoon whine as the door closes behind them. “Truly so mean.”

“Sunghoon. Come here and kiss me before I walk right back out that door.” You say, already having made yourself comfortable on the edge of Sunghoon’s bed.

Sunghoon throws his head back with a laugh, before shrugging off his blazer and throwing it elsewhere. He makes his way towards you stopping once he’s kneeling in between your legs, hands running up your thighs before stopping at your waist. “Didn’t know you were this impatient.”

“And I didn’t know you were this annoying.” You huff, frustrated, before grabbing onto Sunghoon’s blouse and crashing your lips together.

It’s more tongue and teeth than lips, but Sunghoon takes it in stride, matching your pace. Sunghoon’s hands stay on your hips, and you whine into the kiss in frustration.

“Sunghoon, when are you going to touch me?” You whine, leaning in to kiss Sunghoon again while reaching down to grab onto one of Sunghoon’s hands. You pout when Sunghoon pulls back, hands leaving you completely.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” Sunghoon says softly, before leaning in to nose at your neck. He licks along your collarbone, leaving small kisses as he trails down further.

“Everywhere.” You deadpan, and the laugh Sunghoon lets out in response tickles your skin.

“I’m trying to romance you,” Sunghoon leaves another kiss in the middle of your chest, and for once you're thankful that the blouse Sunoo and Riki put you in is wide open. “Yet you’re complaining.”

“You can romance me another day, Sunghoon. If you don’t get your dick inside me now, I’m going to wither away. Fast.” You sigh when Sunghoon untucks your blouse, and finally presses his palm against your skin. “I’m aging, Sunghoon.”

You can feel Sunghoon smiling against your skin, which frustrates you further. Sunghoon is so slow. You are this close to losing it, when Sunghoon finally stands. “You’ll let me sweep you off your feet another day?”

You groan and roll your eyes. “Yes! I’ll let you romance me whenever you’d like! Whatever it takes to get you to—” You pull at Sunghoon’s belt loop, tugging him closer so you can fumble with Sunghoon’s zipper. “—fucking take off your pants already.”

You hear Sunghoon laugh above you, then feel Sunghoon's hand come to rest on your head, before he runs his fingers down the side of your face. Sunghoon’s touch leaves your skin burning, and you forgets all about wanting to take his pants off when Sunghoon tilts your head up by the chin to run his thumb along your bottom lip.

Sunghoon presses down on your lip softly, the touch so soft, so intimate that your breath gets caught in your throat. Sunghoon is looking down at you with eyes so soft and filled with so much care and affection that your mind fills with static.

“You’re so pretty,” Sunghoon sighs. “So pretty.”

You flush, letting out a flustered scoff. You wrap your lips around Sunghoon's thumb and suck lightly. “Can I suck you off?” You mumble around Sunghoon’s finger, and the way Sunghoon brings his thumb down to press against your tongue almost has you gagging.

“Five seconds ago you were just telling me that if I didn’t get my dick inside of you you’d die. And now you’re asking to suck me off?” Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head fondly.

“I changed my mind.” You pull your head back, making sure to keep your lips wrapped tightly around Sunghoon’s thumb, and pull off with a pop.

Sunghoon hums, wiping the spit you've left coating his finger on your cheek, and you scowl. You get a laugh in return, and immediately sit up straighter in anticipation when Sunghoon starts to unzip his slacks. Your mouth waters, saliva pooling under your tongue when Sunghoon finally pushes his pants down to his thighs. Your fingers tremble with the urge to reach out and grab onto any part of Sunghoon you can touch—his thighs, stomach, back, ass—but you restrain yourself by fisting your hands into the sheets.

Sunghoon clicks his tongue. “Baby,” Oh. You shiver, body tingling from your toes to the very top of your head at the pet name. Sunghoon reaches out to hold onto your wrists, bringing them to his thighs and exhaling through his nose when you run your hands up his skin. “Nobody said you couldn’t touch.”

You shudder in anticipation and excitement as you finally grope at Sunghoon’s legs freely, feeling the static in your mind spread to your fingertips as you run your hands anywhere you can get your hands on. Sunghoon is standing silently as he lets you touch his skin as you please, and it makes you whimper.

You swallow the saliva that keeps flooding your mouth at the thought of how good and nice Sunghoon is and how you want nothing more than to be good for him, too.

You hook your fingers under the waistband of Sunghoon’s boxers, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you pull lightly. “Please?”

You see Sunghoon swallow and tongue at his cheek, and your toes curl at the sight of Sunghoon twitching in his boxers. God, you want him so bad your body aches, craving Sunghoon’s touch everywhere; your body against his and Sunghoon’s pretty lips and tongue and—You just want so badly to be his, to belong to Sunghoon.

“Oh, baby, you don’t have to ask.” Sunghoon says softly, hand coming up, up, until his fingers are running through your hair. You can’t help the way you squeeze your thighs together to relieve some of your arousal, because nobody’s ever touched you like this before; nobody has ever touched you with so much affection and care and fondness like Sunghoon’s been doing.

You stand up and remove your fingers from where they were teasing Sunghoon’s skin to curl them around the sides of his neck instead, pulling him in for a soft kiss that says too many things at once. Sunghoon’s hands slide around your waist, fingers digging into your blouse lightly. You spin the both of you around, flipping your positions until Sunghoon is the one seated on the bed instead.

Sunghoon sucks in a breath when you disconnect your lips to drop to your knees between his thighs. You leave kisses on his thighs, biting and sucking to leave small marks you knows will be covered by Sunghoon’s outfit tomorrow. Sunghoon’s hand rests in your hair, and you preen when Sunghoon’s fingers tighten when you bite down too hard.

Impatient.

Sunghoon’s voice echoes in your mind, but you're already painfully wet and throbbing under your panties and you think if you wait any longer you’ll go absolutely insane. You waste no time pulling Sunghoon's boxers down, the sight of the gray fabric damp with a wet spot from Sunghoon’s precome shoves the last bit of sanity and patience you have out the window.

Sunghoon hisses as the cold air hits his cock and his voice breaks off into a low groan when you wrap your soft hand around the base, one hand digging crescents into Sunghoon’s thigh and the other holding his cock steady so you can lean down and lick a stripe up the underside. You moan when you get to the mushroom-top head, eyes rolling back at the musky scent of Sunghoon’s precome and sweat finally on your tongue.

You suck lightly, tongue digging into the slit, already addicted to Sunghoon’s scent and smell and taste. Your lips are slick from the drool from your mouth dribbling out the corners of your lips and down Sunghoon’s cock, and you hear Sunghoon let out a shaky breath above you. You take a glance up and are frozen in place at the sight of Sunghoon with his head thrown back and his pretty throat on display. You make a mental note to remember to taste him there later too.

Sunghoon’s head falls forward when you take him deeper into your mouth, and you're obsessed with the way Sunghoon looks when he’s getting his dick sucked—when you're the one doing it. How his brows furrow, how his lips turn pink and raw from being bitten down on, how he sounds moaning your name when you swallow around his cock.

Sunghoon releases his bottom lip, tongue peeking out to run over it as a way to soothe it. You preen again when Sunghoon finally has his eyes and gaze on you, and it makes you think back to the show earlier today, when all of Sunghoon’s focus was on you. God, the thought makes your blood run hot, and you makes it your mission to prove to Sunghoon just how much you like when Sunghoon looks at you—how much you love when Sunghoon makes you feel like you're the only person there.

“So pretty—god, you’re so perfect for me.” Sunghoon tightens his fingers in your hair and uses the grip to pull you further down onto his cock, until your nose is buried into Sunghoon’s finely trimmed hair. You try to express how much you love this—Sunghoon using you and pulling your hair and praising you—but it only comes out as a weak moan that has Sunghoon's hips bucking forward. Sunghoon curses when you gag around him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

You whine and rub your thighs together to relieve some of the ache in your core, fingers tightening where they’re already digging into Sunghoon’s thigh. You pull your head up to swirl your tongue around the tip again before going down, making sure to squeeze Sunghoon's balls ever so lightly and softly as you do, and the throaty moan you get in return has you pulling off to shove your face against Sunghoon’s hip in need.

“Sunghoon—Sunghoon, please. Fuck me now, I can’t take it anymore—please.” You whimper against Sunghoon’s shirt, dampening it with your saliva. “Sunghoon, I want you. I need you so bad.”

You feel Sunghoon shake, tremble, before you're pulled up by the hair and into a rough kiss. Sunghoon tugs you forward so hard that your teeth clash against each other as Sunghoon falls back onto the bed, bringing your body with him.

You moan, needy, as you crawl over Sunghoon’s body to situate yourself on Sunghoon’s thighs. You reach between them to stroke Sunghoon’s cock and swallow down the groan he lets out at the feeling. You suck at Sunghoon’s tongue when it enters your mouth to lick along your teeth and trace your lips. You grind against Sunghoon's palm when he rips your hand away from his cock and presses his palm against your core, instead.

“Off. Take it off,” you pant against Sunghoon's lips and tug at his blouse. You pull back to trail wet kisses down Sunghoon’s neck as he pulls the fabric up, only pulling away to help Sunghoon lift the shirt over his head and diving right back in to lick along his collarbones.

You runs your hands greedily all over Sunghoon’s chest and shoulders, moaning at the feel of his skin. Sunghoon's body is hot and damp with sweat and you can’t resist sucking and tasting every part of him that you can get your mouth on.

“Baby—I have a show tomorrow.” Sunghoon breathes out, sounding just as hot and bothered as you feel. “No marks.”

You whine in response. “But you taste so good.”

“Yeah? Won’t look so good walking tomorrow like this.” Sunghoon laughs, softly, before bringing you back up to pull you in for another kiss. “You’re so cute. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me walking down the runway with your marks on display for everyone to see. Everyone knowing that you did this to me?”

“Want it so bad—want you so bad.” You say in between kisses. You nod, letting out soft exhales into Sunghoon’s mouth as Sunghoon pushes his palm harder against your core, letting you rut your clit against his hand. “Sunghoon, fuck me already.”

“You’re so—”

“—impatient, I know. Hurry, I said please.” You interrupt, and Sunghoon laughs again, the sound ringing in your ears like a symphony. You don't think you’ll ever get enough of Sunghoon. “Sunghoon, now.”

“Are you always this impatient with other people? Or am I just special?” Sunghoon teases, moving to remove your blouse and throw it somewhere across the room. You ignore the fact that Sunoo and Riki would skin you alive if they knew their precious shirt was on the floor of a five-star hotel room while you fraternize with the face of their rival.

You shiver when your chest is completely bare, nipples hardening at the feeling of cold air against your skin. Sunghoon leans down to take one into his mouth, tugging lightly with his teeth. “No—ah—I’ve never wanted anyone as badly as I want you.”

Sunghoon laps at your nipple, and you keen during a hard suck. He's running his hands all over your back, and you can’t stress enough how addicted you are to having Sunghoon’s hands on you. Sunghoon pulls off with a loud pop, instead moving to leave marks in the middle of your chest. You can feel the way you're dripping into your panties, soaking through the fabric, hips grinding down against Sunghoon's palm.

“That’s cute. You’re so cute. Just for me.”

Just when you're about to get more impatient, Sunghoon reaches down into his pants to pull out a condom. You scoff. “Were you planning this?”

Sunghoon pats your thigh with a hand, and you gets the hint to hop off of his thighs and onto the bed. You crawl further, until the back of your head hits the soft pillows. Sunghoon removes his pants fully, leaving him completely naked, and your cheeks warm at how shameless he is.

“Maybe.” Sunghoon is kneeling in front of your legs, working on getting your pants off. “Asked Jake for it before the after party.”

“Oh.” You frown down at him. “How often do you do this that he just gave it to you?”

Sunghoon smiles, all teeth, before leaning down to press a kiss on your bare knee. “Don’t be jealous, darling. I told him who it was for.”

“And how do I know that you said me? For all I know, you could’ve had it ready for anyone else.” You pout when Sunghoon laughs against your knee. “It’s not funny.”

“Baby, I don’t want anyone but you. I’ve wanted you for years.”

And oh, “Oh.” Your breath hitches at the confession.

Sunghoon hums, the vibrations tickling your inner thigh. He kisses his way up to your stomach, sucking a mark right above the waistband of your panties. Your mind is swirling, thoughts of how long you've wanted Sunghoon, and now how long he's wanted you. They could’ve been doing this much sooner.

“Hey,” Sunghoon’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “We’ll talk about this later, yeah?” You nod, licking your lips. “Eyes on me.”

You haven’t taken your eyes off of him for as long as you can remember, but you nod. God, you think you might love Sunghoon. You don’t think about it for too long, not after Sunghoon pulls off your panties in one go, adding them to the pile of collecting designer clothes on the floor.

Sunghoon exhales, running his hands up your thighs. “You’re so pretty. Fuck.”

You whine, shy. “Don’t stare.”

“Why not? You’re mine, aren’t you?” Sunghoon says, raising a brow when you release more wetness onto the sheets.

“Yeah—I’m yours,” your voice comes out shaky. “Always have been.”

“I know, baby.” Sunghoon leans down to kiss your stomach, before coming up to kiss your lips too. “I know.”

You whimper against Sunghoon's lips, choking on a moan when Sunghoon ghosts the pads of his fingers down your slit. You can feel how wet you are, the wetness making the slide easier as Sunghoon slides two fingers against your clit, moving them slowly in between open mouthed kisses.

You're barely kissing at this point, more panting into Sunghoon's mouth and Sunghoon licking along your lips, but you can’t seem to be bothered when Sunghoon is touching you like this—fingers gently massaging you, rubbing slow circles against your clit—like you're his.

“Good, fuck, Hoon—you’re so good.” You throw your head back, and Sunghoon dives in to nibble at your neck and suck lightly at your jaw. “Can you touch me now? Please?”

“I am touching you.” Sunghoon emphasizes with a pinch to your clit. “More?”

“Hoon, no, here,” you reach down between you two to wrap your fingers around Sunghoon’s wrist—whimpering when Sunghoon’s hand leaves your clit—to push him lower, lower until Sunghoon’s fingers are ghosting over your hole.

Sunghoon inhales sharply, applying the lightest bit of pressure where you need him the most. “God.”

Seconds pass before Sunghoon reels back to rip open the packet of the condom with his teeth, spitting somewhere off the side of the bed. Sunghoon calls for you, “Baby, c’mere.”

You reach for him, arms coming around Sunghoon’s neck and pulling your bodies flush against each other. Sunghoon hoists one of your legs around his waist, firm grip under your thigh.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” Sunghoon leans in and noses at your jaw before running a finger down your slit.

You hold Sunghoon tighter when he finally pushes the tip of his finger in, hole clenching around the digit. You moan, voice cracking when Sunghoon slides his finger in deeper, crooking it before adding another.

“Hoon—Sunghoon, add another. I can take it, please.”

Sunghoon kisses your earlobe before pressing his lips against your temple. “I know you can—god, you’re so tight.”

You clench around Sunghoon’s two fingers weakly, pressing your hips down against his hand in an attempt to get him deeper, to feel fuller. You throw your head back when Sunghoon adds a third finger alongside the two, moaning when Sunghoon scissors his fingers.

“I’m ready, Hoon. Please, please, need you now.” You rock back against Sunghoon’s fingers, whining when you feels Sunghoon’s cock twitch against your thigh.

“I barely even stretched you out, baby.”

“Sunghoon, I can’t wait anymore—please,” you beg. “Hurry, baby, Hoon.”

You hear Sunghoon let out a low groan against your temple, and you let out a soft laugh. “Baby? Is that what did it for you?”

“Could say the same to you.” Sunghoon removes his fingers from your hole, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. “It’s just you, I like whatever you call me.”

“Stop being so cheesy—fuck me already.” You can feel your ears getting hot again, and hopes that Sunghoon doesn’t see right through him.

“Hold on, I need to get the condom—”

“No! I’m clean. Wanna feel you inside me, please."

Sunghoon groans against your neck. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“C’mon, Hoon, hurry.”

Sunghoon inhales again, leaving one last kiss against your neck before he pulls back, your arms falling onto the bed. Your stomach churns with anticipation and arousal, and you can already feel the pool of wetness you've left under the both of you. Sunghoon isn’t doing any better, and you can feel the sticky spot of precome he’s left on your thigh as well.

You reach down to run two of your fingers through the mess on your thigh before bringing it to your mouth, sucking around your fingers and moaning at the taste. Sunghoon’s lips part, and then he’s surging forward to taste his own precome off your lips.

“You’re so hot, god, I’m so lucky.”

You whine, wrapping both of your legs around Sunghoon’s hips to cage him in. You moan in unison when Sunghoon’s cock brushes against your clit, and your mouth waters at how thick and warm and heavy Sunghoon feels against him.

You reach between them to wrap your hand around Sunghoon’s cock, guiding the head to your slit to rub it against yourself a few times before pushing the tip into your hole, barely, still teasing.

“Fuck.” Sunghoon moans, and you can’t resist pushing the head completely inside.

You keen, throwing your head back against the headboard as you feel Sunghoon finally entering you slowly, stretching you and filling you up just how youwanted. You moan at the feeling of being so full.

“Ah! Sunghoon—feels so good, so big,” Your head lolls to the side, tongue slipping out when Sunghoon finally bottoms out.

Sunghoon’s thumb swipes against your lip, pushing the spit that’s dribbled out from the corner of your lips back into your mouth, keeping the tip of his thumb inside. Your eyes roll back when Sunghoon moves, slowly, pulling back until the head of his cock catches against the ridges and walls of your entrance and slamming back inside in one go.

You wail, and Sunghoon pulls his thumb from your mouth so he can hear the sounds better. “Fuck, fuck—oh my god, Sunghoon, baby,”

“Yeah? You’re so tight. You feel so good around me—god, could fuck you like this every day.” Your moans rise in pitch with each thrust Sunghoon delivers, and by the end of his sentence, you're practically screaming. “You’re so fucking loud, you want everyone on the floor hearing you get fucked like this? Hearing you getting fucked by me, moaning like a bitch, hm?”

Your mind goes blank. All you can hear and feel and taste is SunghoonSunghoonSunghoon.

Sunghoon groans, throwing his head back when you tighten and clench around him. “All the people who saw you walk today don’t even know that their precious model cries and moans like a whore in bed. All for me, just for me.”

You're delirious. “Yes! Yes, Hoon—oh god, just for you! I’m yours, all yours only yours—”

“You’ve never been anyone but mine. Wanted you so bad for so long, now that I have you I’m not letting you go.”

You let out a loud sob, nodding your head vigorously. It sounds so tempting, so delicious—the thought of being owned by Sunghoon—being Sunghoon's own personal model. Just Sunghoon's and no one elses.

The thought has you seizing up, and before you know it, you're squirting all over Sunghoon's cock, fluid splashing against the sheets and spilling down Sunghoon's balls. Sunghoon moans loudly at the sensation of your walls fluttering but doesn’t let up. His thrusts and rhythm don’t falter, instead, he seems to get rougher, fucking you harder through your orgasm to milk you through it.

You whine in sensitivity, each thrust has Sunghoon’s cock abusing the spongey spot in your cunt, and you can't help the way you shake, releasing small spurts of wetness out around his cock.

Sunghoon hikes your legs higher, the angle causing his cock to hit deeper, filling you up even better than he did before. Your eyes well up with tears; the overstimulation hurts so good.

“Fuck, you look so pretty crying with a cock inside you.” Sunghoon curses, hands coming to hold your hips, using the grip and the new angle to piston his hips faster into your hole. “‘m close—gonna fill you up how you wanted, yeah?”

You nod, hooking your ankles around Sunghoon’s back and pulling him closer, deeper. Sunghoon groans, one hand coming up to wipe at your lashes where your tears are collecting so prettily for him. “Sunghoon, baby, fill me up. Want your cum inside me—want it inside, cum inside. Wanna feel you inside me for days.”

Sunghoon pulls you in for a kiss, all tongue and teeth before pushing his hips flush against yours, burying himself deep inside of your hole as he finally cums.

The warmth of Sunghoon's cum inside of his hole has you shuddering, finally content at the feeling of Sunghoon filling you up to the brim.

“Wish I could plug you up, have you come to my show tomorrow all plugged up with my come still inside of you. You’d like that, huh?” Sunghoon says against your lips, and you clench around Sunghoon’s cock, causing you both to moan lowly. “Next time, baby.”

The kisses turn soft, and you melt against the pillows at the feeling of Sunghoon's lips against yours. You sigh against Sunghoon’s mouth, hands holding his jaw to keep him close.

After a few minutes, Sunghoon moves to pull out. You whine, trying your best to clench to keep Sunghoon and his cum plugged inside of you.

“Baby,” Sunghoon chuckles. “We can’t stay like this forever.”

“Please?” You tug him back down and onto the sticky mess between you, grimacing when it smears against both of your skins. “It’s fine, we can clean tomorrow.”

“No.” Sunghoon fights back, but makes no move to get up or pull out.

“Baby, please?” You beg, voice soft, and your eyes widen when you feel Sunghoon’s cock twitch inside of you. “Sunghoon!”

“You’re just so—” Sunghoon lets out a breath, rolling his hips slowly. You full-body shudder, and blame Sunghoon for the way white hot arousal shoots throughout your body again. “Can’t get enough of you. Want you like this every day.”

“Sunghoon,” you sigh when Sunghoon pulls out an inch before rolling his hips forward, the head of his cock rubbing against your abused walls lightly with each thrust.

It’s slow and sensual and intimate, and after a few minutes you're brought to your third orgasm of the night, another load of Sunghoon's cum filling your hole up.

“God, you don’t know what you do to me. I think I like you too much.” Sunghoon says after you’ve both bathed and are lying in bed. Sunghoon’s arms are wrapped around you and your head is resting on his shoulder.

You look up at him, only to find him already looking at you. This time, it’s your turn to say:

“I know.”

Sunghoon laughs softly, lips curling up at the corners in a soft grin before he leans down to press his lips against your forehead.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

You grin back. “Wouldn’t that be a headline? Sunghoon Park, death by love.”

“And who said that I love you?” Sunghoon raises a brow, amusement and fondness and everything swirling in his eyes.

“You’re not that subtle, Sunghoon.” You lean up to kiss him softly, once, twice before burrowing your head into Sunghoon's chest.

Sunghoon pulls the covers over your shoulders and pulls you closer to him, as if you weren’t already as close as you can be. “Wouldn’t you know?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Wouldn’t I know?” You repeat after him.

The two of you fall asleep like that minutes later, legs and limbs tangled together. You think your poor, weak heart has already jumped out of your chest and into Sunghoon’s welcoming hands a long, long time ago.

XO sunoo and riki's brand PARADOXXX heeseung, jake, and jay's brand DUMBO house soho house's third nyc club, located on the edge of the east river + where a designer named peter do hosted his after party during nyfw 2 years ago!

a/n: my first fic here is done! listened to party 4 u the whole time while writing this, it almost made me insane. thank you so much for giving this a try if you did! pls reblog/leave me asks or anything :3 that would make me very happy! part 2 will be out soon hehe

masterlist

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - February 15-21

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1. Solar farms managed for nature boost bird abundance and diversity, new study finds

“There were more than twice as many farmland birds in the well-managed solar farms compared with the intensively farmed land, and nearly 16 times as many woodland birds. […] Overall, diversity was 2.5 times higher, while woodland birds were nine times more diverse.”

2. Washington judge blocks Trump’s gender-affirming care ban, says it's unconstitutional in multiple ways

“This marks the second time in a week that a judge has stood in the way of Trump’s attacks on trans kids. [… The ruling grants] a temporary restraining order that halts enforcement of provisions in Trump’s directive that would cut off federal funding to medical institutions that provide gender-affirming care to minors.”

3. Fog harvesting could provide water for arid cities

“17,000 sq m of mesh could produce enough water to meet the weekly water demand of [… the] urban slums. 110 sq m could meet the annual demand for the irrigation of the city's green spaces. Fog water could be used for soil-free (hydroponic) agriculture, with yields of 33 to 44lb (15 to 20kg) of green vegetables in a month.”

4. Audubon Applauds Bipartisan Federal Effort to Protect Delaware River Basin with Critical Reauthorization Bill

“The bill would […] ensure long-term conservation and restoration efforts, expand the official definition of the basin to include Maryland, and prioritize projects that serve small, rural, and disadvantaged communities. […] The watershed provides important year-round habitats and critical migratory stopovers for approximately 400 bird species[….]”

5. mRNA vaccines show promise in pancreatic cancer in early trial

“Half of the people in the study — eight of the participants — responded to the vaccine, producing T cells that targeted their tumors. […] Just two of the patients who had a response to the vaccine had their cancer return during the three-year follow- up, compared to seven of the eight who did not respond to the vaccine treatments.”

6. Minn. Lt. Gov. Flanagan Makes It Official; She's running for U.S. Senate

“[Flanagan has] “championed kitchen-table issues like raising the minimum wage, paid family and medical leave, and free school meals.” If elected, Flanagan, a tribal citizen of the White Earth Nation, would become the first Native American female U.S. senator in history.”

7. Federal Funding Restored for Low-Income Alabama Utility Assistance After Outcry

“A program meant to help low-income Alabamians pay their utility bills has resumed two weeks after it was canceled due to an executive order from President Donald Trump. […] “We can confirm the funds are reaching those affected by the previous pause[….]””

8. Modeling study suggests Amazon rainforest is more resilient than assumed

“[Previous] studies were either conducted with global climate models that used a simplified representation of convection [or were on a regional scale….] According to the computations, mean annual precipitation in the Amazon does not change significantly even after complete deforestation.“

9. States are moving forward with Buy Clean policies despite Trump reversal

““Buy Clean is a great example of how states and other nonfederal actors can continue to press forward on climate action, regardless of what the federal government does,” said Casey Katims, executive director of the U.S. Climate Alliance, a bipartisan coalition of two dozen governors.”

10. The rewilded golf courses teeming with life

“A wildflower meadow, ponds, scrub habitat, coastline and even an area of peat bog can be found on this little 60-acre (24-hectare) plot, which boasts roe deer, otters, lizards, eels and a huge array of insects and birds.”

February 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[canthelpit0]

Intimate

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Wordcount: 2.1k +

In wich: matt has a borderline obsession with cock warming

Warnings: smut, cock warming, p in v, use of y/n, 1st pov, praise kink, name calling (slut), pet names, unprotected, creampie

(A/N: English is not my first language! Also this song has like barely anything to do w the plot, I just feel like that’s the vibe. This is sort of like a blurb. Hope you guys like it <3)

One of the considerably weird things Matt is into is: cock warming.

I clench at the thought trying to focus on my history homework.

I’ve known Matt for practically all my life. We’ve always been close and no conversation between us was ever awkward.

Matt didn’t seem like the type to be into that sort of stuff. But one day, when, we were hanging out and cuddling like we were normally, I felt a hardness at my butt.

When I turned back to look at him he was blushing. Matt had his arms wrapped around my waist, spooning me.

After I asked him what that is, he responded with a question. “Can I..?” He trailed off and I wasn’t catching on to his train of thought.

“What? you want to fuck?” I huff rolling my eyes…not that I would be against it.

“No.” He said defensively squeezing my sides. “Can I just put it in?” Matt asked shyly.

I paused, But eventually complied. With the duvet being over us it shouldn’t be too awkward. He shuffled out of his sweatpants and pulled mine down too.

And before I knew it his finger was inside of me and I was wet.

After a few moments I felt the head of his dick press against me before feeling his entire length slide into me.

I never thought he’d be into that, but even further, I didn’t think that I’d like it too.

I shift feeling the angle change.

“Y/n/n, can you stop moving.” Matt huffs, his words sounding passive aggressive. He puts one of his hands on my hips to prevent as much movement as possible, his other hand still clutching his phone.

I clench again at the tone of his voice, slamming my pen down.

Ever since that day, when this first started off, I started to sit on him more often. Whether it was while we were cuddling or just mindlessly hanging out. We’re not necessarily friends with benefits tho.

I guess he just likes the feeling… but so do I.

It was bad, like we hung out so much Chris and Nick started to make joking remarks about it.

About us hanging out so much that is, not the… whatever we’re doing.

Like it was so bad that practically every time we were alone somewhere private, I was probably sitting on his dick.

It feels so intimate and good, and if we still have time after, he’ll rail me.

But I’m saying that when we’re at home doing homework, I’m sitting on his lap. Or when cuddling or sleepovers. Or even when we go get fast food to eat in the parking lot at night. I’ll climb over the middle console and sit down on it.

I was never a skirt person, but I started to wear skirts more often just for the easier access.

I could go hours just calmly sitting on it.

But sometimes after a while I would get frustrated.

I try to grind into him, Matt still holding me in place as much as he can.

“What? You wanna get yourself off on my dick?” He huffs. His grip on my hip gets harder making me whine, while his other hand still holds his phone.

He’d been scrolling through TikTok and various other social media while I was trying to get all of my homework done.

And it’s been probably over an hour now and I was getting frustrated from all the homework. doing math first was definitely a mistake.

And while on a normal day I would be fine with the intimacy and wouldn’t be trying to get myself off, the homework today was frustrating. And since Matt was already balls deep inside of me, I might as well.

He leans over putting his phone on my desk. With the movement his hand on my hip loosens giving me the opportunity to start to slightly ride him.

“Fuck-“ i sigh. I lean forward on my arms, trying to get as much friction as I can, both on my sweet spot and also my clit.

I hear Matt’s low groan. And suddenly his hands are on my hips again, holding me in place.

“Y/n I swear, i will make you cum over and over again until you’re seeing fucking stars if you don’t fucking stop right now and go back to your homework.”

His tone is authoritative and so hot. Why was he saying that like it would be such a bad thing anyway.

“Matt please.” I whine.

Sometimes Matt would get frustrated and fuck me while I wasn’t even paying him any mind, and sometimes it was the other way around.

He huffs letting go of my hips. Matt leans back as he just watched me and my every move.

I let out a shaky breath once again, leaning forward more to lift myself better.

“Fucking slut, getting yourself off on your best friends dick.” He rolls his eyes in exasperation.

His hands go to my waist, assisting my movements now instead of stopping me.

“If you cum I’m still gonna Make you warm me.” He warns his tone assertive.

Matt holds me in place for a few seconds and scoots the chair back. I sigh leaning forward, using my forearms to prop me up, before starting to ride him again.

His eyes were heavy lidded, his mouth dropped in a silent moan while he watches me.

He somehow seemed way less sensitive than me. But I can literally feel the knot starting to tie In My stomach just waiting to snap.

By this point I was panting and Matt was letting out some heavy breaths too.

“Fuck- Matt, Matt” I whine his name my voice pitching higher as i keep getting closer.

“You close baby?” He breaths out keeping his hands on my hips for stability.

I let out a sharp breath letting my head drop forward as I keep up the angle and speed up in order to reach my climax faster.

“Yeah.” One of my hands go down to my clit to rub it, resulting in my other arm having to hold me up alone.

“Come then.” He demands, his voice sounding cocky. I can hear him breathe heavily and bite his lip to keep quiet.

With his hands tightening on my hips, I feel the knot in my stomach snap.

I let out a loud moan, piercing through the, otherwise, mostly quiet room.

I sit down again my pussy convulsing around his cock.

I sigh, trying to calm down again. Matt’s hands rub my sides, holding my back to his chest and mumbling sweet nothings into my ear.

“You good?” He asks after I mildly catch my breath. I lean more into him, my eyes fluttering closed as I mumble an agreement.

“You gonna go back to your homework now, or…?” He trails off waiting for me to answer.

“No” I breathe out and slightly look over my shoulder to make eye contact with him.

He lets his huge grin take over his features. He picks me up gently, making me wince, to wich he whispers encouraging praises into my ear.

My back makes contact with my bed. I sigh at the feeling of the soft sheets under me. And I watch as Matt hurriedly takes off his shirt.

I was still wearing my mini skirt and a long sleeve shirt, but Matt didn’t look like he was going to take them off. The access was easy, so really, why do the extra work.

Matt rubs my lower stomach, while his other hand holds his dick. He glides it up my folds before slipping it back into me. I whine at the feeling throwing my head back into the mattress.

I’m still sensitive from my previous orgasm and also from the hour of cock warming’s

It wasn’t like he wasn’t sensitive too. I could see him physically hold back from releasing right then and there.

Our eyes stay locked while he starts to rock his hips against me. I can feel him hit that spot in me that makes pure euphoria shoot through my entire body.

Despite not being labeled, it always felt so intimate with Matt.

Maybe it was because most of the time it was literally just cock warming and nothing else. But sometimes, when it did come to the actual intercourse - penetration type of thing, it still felt intimate.

“So good for me baby.” He breaths out. Our eyes stay locked, my mouth dropped in quiet moans.

“Fuck- you like being filled?” He chuckles. His hand stays on my lower abdomen, pressing down slightly to feel himself.

I close my eyes briefly trying to respond, but the way his hips snap into me, and the way he still manages to make this feel sensual, has my head fuzzy.

“Fuck..” Matt breaths out his eyes staying locked on my face. “Too fucked out to answer now?”

All I can do is whine out his name and moan loudly, and he takes pride in that. I know he does. I can see it in his eyes.

“You wanna be fucking full all the time, don’t you baby?” Matt taunts, somehow speeding up even more.

I clench around him my legs going stiff at the constant and heavy stimulation.

Matt notices and readjusts, picking up my legs further so they’re on his shoulders before he picks up pace again.

“Close” I whine out, I can feel the knot in my stomach getting tighter by the second, threatening to snap anytime now.

“Good girl” he hums. Matt’s fingers find their way towards my clit as he starts to vigorously rub it.

“Oh god-“ I moan loudly throwing my head back, my eyes shutting tightly as I try not to get overwhelmed, even tho i already am.

“Eyes on me.” Matt speaks lowly also panting. His movements pick up pace getting more rough and messy, indicating that he’s close too.

My eyes snap open, immediately meeting his. And as soon as they do, I feel my body convulse, my orgasm washing over me like a wave. But despite that, I try to keep my eyes on Matt as best as I can.

“So pretty.” He breathes out harshly and before either of us know it, he gives me one last thrust and fills me up.

I pant, trying to catch my breath. I feel a thin layer of sweat coat my skin, but despite that, I love this feeling.

This post orgasmic state was sending me into almost as much euphoria as the sex itself.

I watch through lazy, heavy-lidded eyes as Matt sits up straighter, moving my legs from off of his shoulders.

“You wanna clean up or sleep like this sweetheart?” He asks tilting his head. Matt was trying to contain a goofy smile.

“Just..” I trail off and let out a breath. Damn I didn’t realize just how out of breath I am.

“Just lay down.” I breathe out.

He licks his lips his eyes wandering from my face to my body and how it’s still clothed.

“You wanna sleep with clothes, or…” he trails off. Matt’s eyes come to meet mine again with a playful glint.

“Matt, I don’t care” I say exasperated.

“I wanna cuddle?” He says like I said we wouldn’t. I huff a slight laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation at hand.

Matt huffs trying and failing to hold back a smile. He gently and slowly pulls out in order to not hurt me. But I still wince from the over stimulation.

He pulls the skirt back down and than reaches for the zipper. He pulls the skirt off tossing it to the floor carelessly.

He then reaches for my long sleeve shirt. I sit up slightly so he can take that, and my bra also off.

Now being nude under him, he looks satisfied. He hums in approval and wordlessly lays down next to me, before I feel his arms go around my waist.

“You think you can warm me, baby?” He whisper sweetly into my ear. I feel a shiver run down my spine from his tone of voice. My eyes shut I take in his silk like words.

“Corse.” I breathe out pushing my hips back into him to tease him.

Matt chuckles lowly. I feel his length slide through my folds. Still being soaked in our combined juices, it was fairly easy for him to slip back in, not that it didn’t make me moan.

I felt way too sensitive, but like hell would I ever say no to this.

Matt chuckles at the low moan I let out. He has his arm spread out so I can lay on it his other arm around my waist. “You do like being full?” He asks in fake shock.

“You were the one that started this tho?” I question right back not moving at all. Simply keeping my eyes closed and enjoying the closeness and intimacy.

“Touché.”

Masterlist

A /N: sorry for being gone for so long guys. Schools been overwhelming. But yeah, I hope you guys liked this. Requests and asks are open & feedback is always appreciated 💕

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

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