#woo stock

[woobosco]

Afro Culture (My culture)

@woobosco

[moth-p]

Self-ish is like drugs to me. Like. How did Will Wood create an album that has no bad things in it

[licorneforyourroleplay]

AVATARS WOO WON JAE - WOO ► 400X640

[faintlight]

watched the london 1988 boot again last night and even though you can barely make out anyone on stage i still had to be held down whenever cb showed up. i thought i had prepared myself for two person one rock n roll but i had somehow forgotten the ending and was WRITHING

[fewwordsmanyriddles]

[zorquiltk]

Tickletober Day 8 - Water

Let's celebrate! We're on Day 8!

Remember the punishment I talked about? Yeah, here it is. Water is a fire-type's weakness, so you can expect it to tickle like crazy when directly sprayed in a strong small stream. At least it's not as bad as last time I was in the stocks...

I wonder what's happening elsewhere...

[99centmusecd]

I can’t wait to watch another obscure series in the lowest most weirdest quality ever with a friend who’ll just laugh at it instead of trying to find a better version, and give up to watch something “better”

[beezelbubbles]

"You should be at the club"

Me in my 40s

[carnalcrows]

TEACHER'S PET - SANGWOO

pairing: professor! sangwoo x student! bottom male reader

synopsis: A struggling college athlete strikes a risky deal with his professor, unaware of the secrets lurking beneath the surface.

content warnings: 18+, age gap (reader is 21 and sang-woo is in his 40's), teacher x student, cheating, blood, unprotected sex, breeding, creampie, reader is a himbo and is slightly muscular.

word count: 2.5k

The classroom was quiet, save for the rhythmic tapping of Professor Cho Sangwoo’s fingers against his desk. You were only half-paying attention, your gaze drifting to the window as he continued his lecture on financial markets—whatever that meant. Numbers weren’t exactly your thing, and honestly, you were just waiting for class to be over so you could hit the gym.

“Since you all love talking so much, let’s see if you actually understand today’s lesson,” Sangwoo announced, his voice smooth yet carrying an edge of boredom. He scanned the room, eyes narrowing slightly before landing on you. “You.”

Your head snapped up. “Huh?”

A few chuckles echoed in the lecture hall, but Sangwoo ignored them. He leaned casually against his desk, adjusting his tie. “I asked what the three main types of financial markets are.”

You blinked, your brain scrambling for anything resembling an answer. “Uh… stocks?”

Sangwoo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s one.”

“Um… crypto?”

Someone in the back actually snorted. You gave them a glare before looking back at Sangwoo, who only smiled, but not in a nice way. “Stay after class,” he said simply before moving on to another student.

You slumped in your seat. Great.

When the lecture finally ended, your classmates trickled out in pairs and groups, leaving you alone with your professor. You adjusted the strap of your sports bag and walked up to his desk, scratching the back of your head.

“Sir?” you said hesitantly. “Uh, about earlier—”

“You’re failing my class.”

That was the first thing he said, cutting straight to the point. His voice was calm, but there was something in his gaze that made you shift uncomfortably.

“Yeah, I figured,” you admitted with a nervous chuckle. “Numbers aren’t really my thing.”

Sangwoo just stared at you, his lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You do realize that if you fail my class, your scholarship could be revoked, correct?”

You blinked. That… wasn’t good. You needed that scholarship. It was the only reason you were here in the first place.

“But—”

“I could help you,” Sangwoo interrupted smoothly, stepping closer. “Private tutoring, after hours. One-on-one.”

“Oh, sweet! That’d be great,” you said, completely missing the shift in the air. “Man, I knew you weren’t as scary as people say.”

Sangwoo’s eyes gleamed. “Right,” he said. “Not scary at all.”

You waited in the empty lecture hall, tapping your fingers against your desk. Most of the students had already gone home, the hallways eerily quiet as the late afternoon sun cast golden streaks through the high windows. You shifted in your seat, rolling your shoulders. This felt… weird. One-on-one tutoring? You barely studied in regular classes—what were the odds this would actually help?

The door creaked open.

You turned, watching as Sangwoo stepped inside. He wasn’t wearing his usual suit jacket, just his dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. He carried his leather briefcase in one hand, and in the other, a slim stack of papers.

“You actually showed up,” he mused, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

“You told me to.” You leaned back, grinning lazily. “Not really one to disobey orders, sir.”

He set his briefcase down, eyeing you for a beat too long before moving to the desk at the front of the class. “We’ll see about that,” he muttered. Then, louder: “Let’s start.”

For the next twenty minutes, he actually taught. Well, sort of. He wrote on the board, explained concepts you didn’t understand, and made you do problems from his worksheet. Your brain, slow as it sometimes was, genuinely tried to keep up. You weren’t failing because you didn’t care—you just weren’t good at this stuff.

At some point, Sangwoo moved behind you, leaning over to check your work. The weight of his presence sent a strange shiver down your spine. His voice was low, smooth, almost teasing as he pointed out your mistakes.

“Not quite,” he murmured. “Try again.”

You exhaled sharply. “God, I suck at this.”

“You suck at a lot of things,” he said, tone unreadable. “But you’re good at listening.”

Your brow furrowed at his choice of words. Before you could question it, he reached over, guiding your hand as you wrote out an equation. His fingers were steady, firm over yours. Too close.

You swallowed. The air in the room changed, thickened with something unsaid. You turned your head slightly, only to find that Sangwoo was already looking at you. His dark eyes lingered, searching, waiting.

The moment stretched.

Then, he moved.

His hand slid from yours, trailing up your wrist, your forearm. You should’ve said something, maybe pulled away, but the way he looked at you—the quiet intensity in his eyes—made your brain short-circuit.

His fingers brushed your jaw. Your breath hitched.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t gentle. It was hungry, practiced, like he had been waiting for this—like he already knew you wouldn’t resist.

Your back hit the desk, Sangwoo pressing forward, one hand bracing against the wood while the other curled around the nape of your neck. His lips moved against yours with a kind of certainty that made your stomach tighten, that made your fingers fist into the fabric of his shirt.

A quiet, broken sound left your throat as his teeth scraped against your bottom lip, as his hands roamed lower, as his body slotted perfectly against yours.

His hands went to the curve of your ass– gripping on the supple flesh as he pulled you closer into him. They trailed to the front, tugging your sweatpants off with a firm tug– making you gasp in surprise.

You looked at him with wide eyes, which only seemed to turn him on even more. He pressed his lips back onto yours before sliding one hand down your boxers, pulling your hard cock out of its confinements– the cool air making you shudder.

He turned you around so that your stomach was on the desk, and lifted your ass up– groaning at the sight of your hole puckering around nothing. He pulled out a packet of lube from his front pocket, did he come prepared for this?, before he ripped it open and spilled its contents onto your hole.

Before you could say anything, he slid the head of his cock in– eyes clenching shut at how you hole pulled him in. You gripped at the desk– having never been stretched out like this before.

“God– so tight f’me aren’t you love, “ he groans in your ear before sliding all the way in– making your back arch. “Only for you sir–” you manage to say before he pulls out and slams back in, making you scream.

He fucked into you at a relentless pace, the uncomfortable positon of your pelvis getting bruised by the edge of the table did nothing to you know. He was making you see stars.

He held you by the waist as you clenched around him– almost making it unable for him to move. You were practically milking the older man dry.

“Getting fucked by your professor for a few extra marks– what a filthy little slut you are, hm?”he mocked, getting riled up at the way you merely moaned, not being able to make sense of what he was saying. Your head was filled with the thought of his cock pistoning in you. 

It wasn’t like your head had much in it anyway.

Soon, he felt himself on the verge of a release, and came in you without warning– painting your insides a pearly white.

You came untouched, practically screaming as your cock spurted out ropes of cum onto the desk. He stayed nestled in you for a while, before slowly pulling out, his cum leaking out of your hole.

He felt himself getting hard again.

It was going to be a long session.

The next time you tried to do the homework he assigned, you realized you had learned absolutely nothing in that tutoring session.

Not about commerce, at least.

Giving up on that, you were sitting outside on the campus lawn with a few of your teammates, lazily picking at your food while the others chatted around you. It was the usual mix of locker-room banter and weekend plans, but you weren’t really paying attention. Your focus had shifted to the faculty building in the distance, where a familiar figure stood near the entrance.

Sangwoo.

Your professor looked different outside of the classroom. Less stiff, more relaxed. And, most importantly, not alone. A woman stood next to him, pretty and well-dressed, holding a little girl in her arms. Sangwoo’s hand rested on the small of her back as they talked, his head tilted slightly as he smiled at something she said. The woman laughed, leaning into him with a kind of familiarity that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

Your appetite vanished instantly. Your fingers tightened around your fork, and you barely noticed your friend nudging you.

"Yo, you good?"

"Yeah," you mumbled, already standing. "Gotta go. Be right back."

You didn’t wait for a response. Your feet moved on instinct, carrying you toward the nearest building. The second you were inside, you made a beeline for the restroom, locking yourself in an empty stall before bracing your hands against the walls, trying to steady your breathing.

Sangwoo had a wife. And a kid. A whole family.

The realization sat heavy in your gut, a sharp, sickening weight pressing against your ribs. How had you not known? Shouldn’t someone have mentioned it? Shouldn’t he have mentioned it? And why the hell did it feel like you’d been punched in the stomach?

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to swallow the rising bile in your throat. The image of him—smiling, touching her, looking like a man who had never done a single wrong thing in his life—burned behind your eyelids.

You had been in his office just last night. Had sat at his desk, let him touch you, let him pull you in like you were something he wanted. And the whole time—

The whole time, he had this? A wife? A daughter?

You turned abruptly, punching the stall door hard enough that the impact sent a dull ache up your wrist. Then, without looking at yourself in the mirror, you forced yourself back outside.

You weren’t going to think about this now. You just needed to get through the rest of the day.

Your legs still felt unsteady as you walked back across the campus lawn, but then—

You slowed down. Two professors were chatting near one of the shaded benches. You wouldn’t have normally paid them any mind, but your name caught your attention.

“—been doing surprisingly well in my class,” one of them said. “I thought he’d barely scrape by, but it looks like he’s putting in real effort.”

“Not surprising,” the other replied. “Athletic scholarships come with pressure. He needs to keep his grades up if he wants to stay on the team.”

“True, but honestly, he’d have to bomb every class for that to even be a concern. You know how it is—sports scholarships are basically untouchable. No single professor can take those away, even if they wanted to.”

A beat of silence passed. Then the first one chuckled. “Good thing, too. Can you imagine the scandal?”

You nearly tripped over your own feet.

Wait.

Your scholarship was secure? No single professor could take it away?

Then… What the hell had Sangwoo been threatening you with?

Your stomach twisted again, but this time, it wasn’t nausea. It was anger. Cold, creeping, slow-burning rage.

He had lied to you. Manipulated you. Used you.

And you had fallen for it, like an absolute idiot.

You sat through class that day feeling like you were going to be sick. Every word out of Sangwoo’s mouth blurred together into meaningless noise, his voice grating against your ears. When he announced the usual after-hours “coaching session,” you barely registered it. The other students filed out, and you stayed seated, arms crossed tightly over your chest, muscles coiled with anger you hadn’t fully processed yet.

Sangwoo closed the door, the sound echoing through the empty room. He turned, gaze sharp as ever, and for the first time, you hated the way he looked at you—like he had already figured out exactly what you were about to say.

“Something wrong?”

You stood up so fast your chair scraped against the floor. “You’re married.”

Sangwoo’s expression didn’t even flicker. “And?”

You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “And? And?! You’ve been—You lied to me. About everything.”

“Careful,” Sangwoo murmured, stepping closer. “You’re getting all worked up.”

“Yeah, because I just found out the guy I’ve been—” You cut yourself off, pressing your fingers to your temple as if that would stop the storm in your head. “Not only are you a cheating bastard, but you lied about my scholarship.”

Silence.

A beat passed. Then another.

You scoffed, the sound bitter, disbelieving. “Yeah. I figured it out. You don’t have the power to take my scholarship away, do you?”

Sangwoo sighed, tilting his head like you were a particularly slow student who had finally caught up. “It got you to comply, didn’t it?”

Something inside you cracked open.

Your fists clenched at your sides. “You used me.”

He took another step forward, his presence suffocating, the air thick between you. “And yet, you’re still here.”

He was right there, close enough that you could see the way his lips curved, the glint in his eye that told you he still thought he had the upper hand. And maybe he did—because the moment he grabbed your face and kissed you, you let him.

It was hard, possessive, like he was staking his claim all over again. Your body reacted before your brain did, mouth opening under his, heat flaring up your spine. His hands dragged over your jaw, fingers pressing just hard enough to make your pulse stutter.

But then—

No. No, not this time.

Your eyes snapped open. The haze shattered.

Without thinking, your hand darted toward the desk beside you, fingers curling around the sharp metal of a compass. You gripped it so tightly your knuckles ached.

Sangwoo didn’t even notice until it was too late.

The compass plunged into the side of his neck, and for the first time since you’d met him, he was the one caught off guard.

He staggered back, hand flying to his throat. Blood—so much blood—spilled between his fingers, staining his crisp white dress shirt. His mouth opened, a garbled, wet sound escaping as he stared at you in pure disbelief.

You exhaled, heart pounding as you looked down at him. “Guess I am failing this class.”

The room smelled like iron. Sangwoo collapsed to the floor, the blood pooling around him in a slow, creeping tide.

You stood there, breath shaky but eyes steady.

And then, finally, you turned and walked away.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[woobosco]

Afro Culture (My culture)

@woobosco

[tgcg]

tell your loved ones

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

TG: hey im on the john

JOHN: hey, dave is taking a dump.

TG: taking a shit just so were clear

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

TG: i know you care so youre first to know

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

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

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

TG: tell her the news

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

TG: hell yeah see you just fucking get it

JADE: well tell him i say congrats!

EB: she says congrats.

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

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

TG: goddamn

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

EB: so anyways, a yeah woo machine?

EB: what the hell even IS that?

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

TG: its basically a machine that yeahs and woos

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

JADE: its pretty self explanatory!

TG: pretty self explanatory stuff

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

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

--

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

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

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

CG: SHIT, IS EVERYTHING OK?

CG: DO I NEED TO COME OVER THERE.

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

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

TG: alright

TG: deep breath strider

--

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

TG: shit is on fire

TG: downright heretical like a shat outta hell

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

CG:

--

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

TT: Hey Dave.

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

TG: damn word spreads fast on the information superhighway

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

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

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

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

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

TG: stay tubed

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

TG: dont act like this has educational value rose

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

TG: like damn what kind of gazettes are you getting

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

TG: thanks for the vote of confidence

TG: wait gimme a sec karkat pinged

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

--

CG: OK.

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

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

CG: LISTEN CAREFULLY.

TG: whats up

--

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

TG: oh shiiit

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

CG: I AM *ALSO* TAKING A CRAP.

TG: oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

CG: OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT

[faintlight]

i cannot believe i'm going to see girlball LIVE and IN PERSON and VERY CLOSE. i think i might die

[cherriicou]

‘MV SHOOT’

MDNI 18+

SUMMARY | wonwoo and mingyu invite you over for a 'mv shooting’.

PAIRING | idol!mingyu x fem!reader x idol!wonwoo

CONTENT | threesome, unprotected sex (be safe), dumbification, slight choking, degrading, sub! reader, nipple play, overstimulation

WORDS | 693

A/N | sleepy write before bed. was watching nana tour while doing this lol.

it was quite a surprise when your friends mingyu and wonwoo invited you to their apartment for a 'business project'. saying that they had a song recorded and wanted you to appear in their mv.

they had never mentioned their own song coming out so you naively agreed and hurried to their apartment.

the moment you walked in the door, they both stood next to each other with a matching set outfit folded in mingyu's hands. it took them hoursss to find an outfit that suit both of their tastes. knowing that you'd wear it no matter how skimpy you thought it was just for them made this moment so much more exciting. you, unaware of their intentions, happily took the clothes and went to the bathroom to change.

wonwoo and mingyu waited in the kitchen; one sitting on the stool near the island and the other leaning against the counter. whilst you're trying to be pretty for them, they start to imagine how good you'll look. the dirty thoughts making their muscles tense and veins visibly shown.

the door opens; mingyu almost falls off the chair and wonwoo's legs tremble a bit as he straightens up from the counter. your is hair perfectly sitting on the tiny shirt that is barely hiding any cleavage, the tight high waisted skirt compliments your curves, and the stockings that only go up to your mid-thigh is all so breathtaking. it was perfect. and it was just for them.

you let out a tiny cough of shyness. 'isn't it a bit revealing? won't i get hate comments?' the innocent question makes them put on a smirk. oh, you're about to get the farthest thing away from hate.

‘aw my gorgeous girl,’ mingyu walks closer to you.

'we won't let anyone tell you a single thing, isn't that right woo?' wonwoo nods, his eyes looking up and down your body.

'why don't you head upstairs where we set up the cameras hm?' wonwoo snakes his hands around your waist, pushing you towards the stairs calmly.

'upstairs.?' mingyu looks down at you while you stayed standing at the bottom of stairs confused.

'just follow him, pretty.’ wonwoo pats your head softly. you scurry up the stairs and wonwoo sighs at your skirt revealing hints of your ass after each step you take.

it all happened so fast.

now being on all fours, being pounded behind by mingyu. whilst wonwoo uses your mouth roughly, groaning while your moans vibrate around his cock.

"aren't you a stupid slut hm? really thought we'd let everyone see what's ours?" mingyu brings his thumb to your overly sensitive clit, causing you to jolt closer towards wonwoo.

"is that what you wanted? show our fans your pretty little body?" you shook your head in vigour, your body already shaking from the overstimulation.

"look at her, mingyu. too dumbfucked to even comprehend words." wonwoo grabbed onto your throat, making you stare directly into his fox-like eyes. eyes completely darkened as he took in the sounds of your moans and the fucked out state you were currently in.

"please! t-too.. much..!" the overbearing pleasure is too much that you feel like you're going to break soon.

"t-t-too much" mingyu mocks you, grinning at the way he felt your cunt start to tighten for the third time. wonwoo's hands knead your breasts and pulled at your nipples while mingyu continued to work on your abused pussy, driving you into insensibility of the moment.

"mingyu! ah- wonwoo! please.. c-cant!" The two men only groan at your pleads, steering them more into euphoria. wonwoo pulls you into a messy make out session. you're completely brain fucked, making kissing you even more enjoyable as you can't control your movements.

"you've got it. take it, yea? like we're trained you before." they then switch places so fast, not even a second to breathe from the amount of energy that's being taken from your body.

wonwoo groans as he enters you, making you shiver and moan loudly while holding onto mingyu's biceps. "now let me see the beautiful view i couldn't see before"

there was no chance this was ending soon.

[mtchee]

Quiet Comfort - [Gunwoo & Woojin] FEM

blurb:

A day in the life with your two big sweethearts, and some quiet comfort from the usually otherwise obnoxiously burly duo after a long day.

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, fluff, have fun with two giant puppies, poly relationship, use of the term 'jagiya/jagi', mentions of having hair, teasing, if you think they're ooc please let me know i'm trying to get used to writing them, i love them sm frfr

| masterlist | bloodhounds collection |

[2.0k]

"Woojin-ah! Have you seen my jacket?" You call out, head buried deep into your side of the closet.

Gunwoo pops his head in through the doorway instead, "Hm? Oh, I put it in the wash."

"In the wash?" You lean back out with a frown.

"Did you say my name!?"

"Don't mind! Gunwoo, I'm doing a stock run for the cafe. Your mum needs me to go, and it'll be cold," You draw out a whine after calling back to your other boyfriend's distant voice. He's probably splayed out on the living room couch.

Gunwoo's big eyes flicker, his face suddenly downtrodden and you quickly backtrack.

"It's fine. It should only be quick anyway, I'll be inside for the rest of the day."

"I'm sorry," Gunwoo's thick lips form into a big fat pout, his voice apologetically soft and you want to bite him, "you can use one of mine, or Woojin hyung's. If you want."

He shucks off the dark puffy jacket that he's wearing and quickly offers it to you.

Habitually, you open your mouth to decline before hearing the wind whistling through the miniscule gaps in the window. You glance outside. It even looks cold.

"Mm, you're running deliveries today, aren't you?" Your brows pinch in concern, gently pushing outstretched jacket back to his chest.

Gunwoo shakes his head profusely, using both his hands to reinstate his now no-returns offer.

"We're doing some training first. Then we'll start on the deliveries," he assures you, tone much more firm on the fact that the topic regards your wellbeing, "I'll be warmed up before then. And I can pick up the jacket in between runs." He adds onto the end quickly, subtly coercing you to accept his choice.

You take in a breath, assessing him silently.

Gunwoo's sized up, back straight and broad shoulders no longer sagging, as to appear more self assured and resolute. His big puppy eyes once slightly glossed over from your chiding now hardened with a quiet resolve.

You huff through your nose, accepting the oversized puffy jacket with a hidden smile, "...Alright. Thank you, Woo-ah."

You can barely stifle the giddy butterflies you feel when he smiles at you.

Later that day, Woojin gives you the fright of your life while you're on your way back to the cafe.

You scream when a familiar himbo comes barrelling at you from around the corner of the street, tackling you in a semi-sweaty hug.

"JAGIYAAA!"

"Woojin-ah!" You shriek, bracing your arms over your head as the impact with his torso sends you flying. The only thing stopping you from hitting the ground is his eager embrace that quickly follows, catching you and tethering you to him in a tight hug.

"Are you crazy!?"

"Aish~ I missed you," he nuzzles into you obnoxiously, ignorant to any passersby that send you strange looks.

"Yuck!" You can't help but laugh as his nose tickles you behind your ear. You can feel the perspiration glossing the skin of his neck and you grimace, pushing him away with a grin.

"I saw you this morning," you reason when he looks at you, offended.

His brows furrow, "Barely. And it's not the same."

You roll your eyes at him, though you suppose it is thrilling to bump into each other on pure coincidence.

"Did you finish a delivery?"

Woojin nods, "Mm. I'm on my way to the cafe. Gunwoo's going too. We were arguing which street was quicker, but then I saw you."

"Well, then he's definitely winning."

"..."

You laugh when his face drops.

Steam disperses from the bathroom doorway, condensation dripping down the glass of the shower while the mirror over the sink slowly dipleats itself of the fog lining it.

You sit on the bed clad in one of your boyfriends' shirts and a pair of panties, planning on applying your body lotion after drying your hair. With the tub of cream sat beside you, you eye your faint reflection in the window pane, ruffling your towel through your locks.

Your impatience results in the rough fabric lashing against your cheek, and you wince, blinking off the abrupt contact.

A tinge of frustration nips at you before you take in a deep breath to calm you down. It's been a long day, and your little spa routine was a way of helping you unwind.

The day's toll must've been a lot worse than you thought.

You let the towel fall from your head and onto your lap, staring at it blankly. You can feel a flurry of emotions toiling within you, but you don't have the energy to process them fully.

In no time, small unshed tears begin to glisten your lower lash line and you scrunch your nose. Why are you almost crying?

It's not like you haven't had bad days before--and you've definitely had worse.

"Jagi..?"

You don't even hear Gunwoo approach, still staring at your lap tiredly. Gunwoo's brows furrow, and he leans down slightly to peer at you in concern. A small gasp escapes him at the sight of your glossy eyes and wrinkled nose, and he sits himself down beside you.

He parts his lips to say something before thinking better of it, he watches you for a moment longer, thinking to himself quietly before gently prying the towel from your weak hands.

"Here, jagi. Let me do this for you." His voice is tender, patient and coaxing as he shifts his torso to face your back, and he starts to dry your hair for you.

The only response he garners is a soft sigh while you lean your head back at his careful touch. Your quiet acceptance has him smiling gratefully.

He's a little clumsy with his large hands, but he's mindful of his strength, and gets the job done.

Eventually, Woojin wanders into the room from the kitchen after wondering where his two partners disappeared to.

"Hey, do we want--" he stops short when Gunwoo whips around and shakes his head at him. Woojin narrows his eyes at him, and the younger motions his eyes towards you, and then he understands.

"--A-Ah... okay," he's quiet, taking a few more steps inside the room until he's stood in front of you. He crouches down, hands seeking purchase on your knees and he tilts his head to meet your vacant gaze.

He murmurs your name softly in a song like tune, "How are you feeling, hm?"

Gunwoo's activity ceases as he waits for you to speak.

You match his eyes with a little bit more life in them, feeling more soothed than frustrated now.

"Tired.."

"Yeah?" Woojin spies the tub of lotion by your thigh and nods towards it, "can I do that for you?"

Your eyes flutter in a soft blink, and he waits patiently. You look at the body lotion and then slowly draw your gaze back to your lap again. A sudden embarrassed heat crawls up your neck at the state of you: hair damp and body hunched, braless in an oversized shirt that hides your underwear from view with your naked legs on display.

"A-Ah..." you hesitate, lips parted unsurely. Suddenly bashful, you look over your shoulder at Gunwoo who blinks and gives you a light, unassuming smile.

You look back at Woojin, who's gaze never left your deliberating form. He rubs his thumb across your left knee comfortingly, eyes kind.

A soft breath escapes you, and you feel oddly reassured by them. Despite the mild fluster you feel at the intimacy of their attention, you nod and give and affirming hum.

He doesn't take that though. He wants to hear you.

With a gentle squeeze on your soft thigh, Woojin purses his lips and looks at you expectantly, though the upward twitch of his lips indicates his playfulness.

You whine, diverting your gaze shyly as you lean back against Gunwoo who chuckles at you. You look up at him for help, but scoff quietly in receiving none, and so you speak.

"Okay..."

Woojin beams, all crescent eyed and white teeth, "Thank you, jagiya~"

He reaches for the tub, unscrewing the lid and scooping up an appropriate amount for application--he's watched you do this a good few times now after all.

After lathering his hands, he starts with your right leg. Shifting so he's bent on one knee, he prompts you to lean your weight against Gunwoo while he rests your foot against his knee, big hands massaging the lotion into your skin.

Although his touch is innocent, you can't help but squirm nervously when his palms stroke up your thigh, and he grins.

He handles you firmly, placing pressure on all the right places that have you sighing in relief. Gunwoo starts playing with strands of your hair, even leaning down to place a lingering kiss on the shell of your ear.

"Feel better..?" He lets out a happy hum when you nod lazily.

Woojin finishes by lightly tickling the sole of your foot, grinning when you squeal and try to jerk away. He relents, letting out tug it out of his grasp before he taps your other leg, giving it the same treatment.

All too soon is it over, and Woojin places a teasing kiss on your shin with a squeeze to your thigh when you pout. You cringe at the tingling sensation it causes, slapping his hand away while he laughs at you.

The rest of your hair would be fine to air dry now, so when you flick the end of the towel away from you Gunwoo takes it, blowing against your neck playfully before he moves to put the towel away.

You can't help but watch after him endearingly. To be loved is to be known, and both Gunwoo and Woojin have done more than you could've ever asked for, and that's not just on accounts of that night.

They always taken care of you, always looking out for you: by walking you to and from places, to treating you out, checking in on you during times when you're separated, spoiling you whenever they can for no reason other than just because--they've done it all.

And you couldn't be anymore grateful.

The slightly open window allows a sharp evening breeze to graze across your bare skin, and you shiver.

Woojin perks up, "Ah, are you cold?"

Having heard from the bathroom, Gunwoo comes back, immediately rifling threw the dresser drawers while you answer the other with a nod.

Spying the goosebumps across your legs, Woojin runs a warm palm over them twice before feeling a breeze on the back of his head, and he clocks on.

"My turn!"

With the older standing up and closing the window, Gunwoo quickly slams the drawers shut and steals his spot in front of you.

You sit up, startled at the sudden movement, giggling when Woojin whirls around at the claim with an offended guffaw.

Gunwoo kneels in front of you this time, a pair of rolled up fuzzy socks in his hand while he tugs you closer to him. You laugh as you're pulled across the bed covers, the comforter bunching up messily.

Gunwoo's eyes crinkle at the sound of your laughter, and he unfurls the socks before slipping them over your feet. It goes about halfway up your shins, keeping your toes nice and warm and you hum contently.

Like Woojin did earlier, he runs his big hands over the rest of your exposed skin, smoothing down your cold caused bumps with his natural warmth. He tugs down your shirt so it covers your lower half a bit more modestly, though you notice he can't help but sneak in a quick squeeze on your hip.

His ears are a bit red, otherwise he smiles at you unaffectedly.

"Yah," Woojin claps him on the shoulder chidingly, though his tone is light hearted, "no fair. I saw that, you sneak."

"Hyung..." Gunwoo whines.

You can't help but grin at them, heart swelling with an incogitable fondness for your two big puppies. Any prior distress thoroughly dispelled thanks to the loving care of your two partners.

And you couldn't ask for more.

[2hightocare]

SWEET NOTHINGS ✷

Summary: You and Jungkook host thanksgiving dinner at your guys’ house, but Jungkook is head over heels in love with you.

pairing: husband!jungkook x wife!reader

warnings: pure fluff, jungkook is whipped, reader and jungkook are corny as hell, and a lot of curse words. A lot of kissing… a little bit of spanish. crying.

"Baby, what are you wearing? Are we going to match?" Your husband yells from upstairs, making you chuckle lightly. "I left your outfit hanging in the bathroom," you yell back while bending over, turning on the light of the oven where the turkey Jungkook added almost four hours ago stares back at you.

"Do I take the turkey out now, babe?" You yell for your husband upstairs to listen. "I don’t know; let me call my mom," he says. You jump, a small shriek leaving your lips as you put your hand over your heart and close your eyes.

"Fuck, you scared the shit outta me," a small chuckle slips past your mouth as Jungkook laughs with his head thrown back and dimples on full display.

"I’m so sorry, baby. I thought you heard me coming downstairs." His mouth adorned with a grin while slowly pulling you to him with his hands on your waist.

"Hi," you say as he kisses your lips.

"Hi, baby," he greets back, putting a loose piece of your hair behind your ear. "You look so beautiful," Jungkook gives you one more kiss before making you do a little spin for him.

Your brown long-sleeve off-shoulder mini dress matches his brown crewneck. His black jeans match your black stockings and black long boots you ended up stealing from your sister last time she visited. "You look sexy, so eatable I’m afraid." You look up at him with a big smile on your face before tiptoeing to give him a quick kiss before making your way back to the mashed potatoes you said you would do.

One thing about Jungkook is that he could stay mesmerized by your actions and words even if whatever you were doing was something so normal just like right now. The way your curled hair falls in front of your face, but with your hands occupied, you try to blow on it before trying to use your elbow to push it away, causing Jungkook to let out a chuckle, making his way to help you.

"I thought that was the reason you have a bow on, baby." Jungkook pushes both your long curtain bangs back to its place, securing it with the bow. "I’m not even going to ask how you were able to do that so fast," you throw a glare at Jungkook, making him burst into another laugh.

"Baby, I have to fix Ji-woo’s bows all the time." Jungkook laughs softly in the crook of your neck from behind, his hands wrapped around your waist.

Ji-woo being yours’ and Jungkook’s only goddaughter, and the only child in both of your families. You and Jungkook always brought up the topic of kids for it to always be shut down after seeing kids throw tantrums in tv shows or when going grocery shopping, which only ends with us looking at each other before shivering at the thought that one day that could be our future child.

The thought of having children it’s not completely shut down; you and Jungkook just feel like you guys will like to wait just a bit more before having a kid. Ji-woo and Bam were enough for you both.

You both sway to the song playing from the living room TV, coming from your ‘j🖤’ playlist.

"Did you ask your mom about the turkey?" You ask finally finishing smashing the potatoes, pushing the bowl to the center of the white counter where other dishes you made yesterday are gathered.

"Hm, texted her, and she said she was on her way," he murmurs from the crown of your head before finally letting go of you. "I have some to give you be right back," Jungkook makes his way to the garage door where both of your guys' cars are. As you wipe down the countertops and table, the door opens, making you look up, finding Jungkook holding the biggest flower bouquet you have ever seen.

A gasp leaves your mouth as you stare at the beautiful bright red roses. "Oh my god, baby, what?" Your lips pout as he kisses them and hands you the bouquet. "Fuck, this is heavy," you hold the flowers with both hands, the bouquet covering your entire face, making Jungkook chuckle. "Baby, I can’t even hug you to say thank you," you whine, feeling your eyes slightly water. You had always been so sensitive when it came to gestures Jungkook has done for you. That one time he took it upon himself to learn Spanish to be able to ask your parents in their native language for your hand in marriage, or the one time he took you to Paris on your one-year anniversary because you told him you always wished of going but never was able to due to your parents' financial issues.

"Baby, don’t cry," Jungkook quickly takes the flowers from your grip and puts them on the counter before cupping your face and blowing on your face, making you burst out laughing. Jungkook smiles while kissing your face.

"I just love you so much," you whisper all while he finishes kissing your closed eyes. "I love you so much more," Jungkook replies back before pulling you into a hug; you immediately melt into his warmth.

"I’m so seriously so in love with you," you say against his chest while he kisses the top of your head soothing you.

"And I'm in love with you," Jungkook says muffled against your hair; you stay there for a minute just feeling each other’s warmth and comfort while "Sweet Nothings" by Taylor Swift plays in the background.

"We’re so fucking corny, I swear," you joke, making both of you crack up until both your stomachs hurt.

"You had to ruin the moment huh?" He smirks at you before leaning down to leave a big fat kiss on your lips.

"I actually have one more thing, and I need you to close your eyes," Jungkook bites on his lip, his dimples showing. "Oh my god, are you serious? You just gave me around a hundred flowers, and there’s more?" Your mouth hangs open, earning another small laugh from Jungkook.

"Okay, no, for real though, close your eyes; I’ll be right back." Jungkook disappears again through the garage door. Not knowing what to expect, you close your eyes.

Funny how the butterflies and cartwheels your tummy still does even after all these years has you feeling so happy and thankful for the person you get to spend your whole life with.

The garage door opens, which makes you giddy like a teenage girl waiting for her crush to tell them they like them.

"Okay, open, baby." You open your eyes, your mouth drops open. "You’re fucking kidding, Jungkook."

You stare at the small white fluffy kitty with grey spots, that is laying comfortably in Jungkook’s arms. Your hands make their way to your mouth to conceal the small scream you want to let out. You had been begging Jungkook to let you get a cat for almost three months now.

Jungkook’s cheeks hurt from how hard he is smiling, looking down at you and how you softly caress it.

"What’s its name?" You look up at Jungkook, who is already looking at you with galaxies in his eyes. "You choose, baby, it’s yours." Jungkook places the small kitten into your arms. “Oh my fuck, it’s mine,” you squeal as the kitten looks up at you, making you melt even more.

“No mames” (you gotta be shitting me), you say in your native language, making Jungkook smile wider as he sees you struggle to find a name.

“It’s a boy, if that helps.” Jungkook leans against the counter, watching your every move, his heart swelling. “And if we named it ‘Bubbles’?” Your head snaps to Jungkook’s, waiting for his reaction to the name.

“I love that,” he scrunches his nose before nodding up and down. “Oh my god, I’m a mother,” you pick up Bubbles into the air, softly spinning around.

“Excuse you! You've been a mother, what about Bam!” Jungkook dramatically puts his hand on his heart, acting out like he just took a hit to the chest. “Stop! I love Bammy!” You defend yourself.

You make your way to your husband, kissing his lips over and over again, causing him to smile into your mouth. “Thank you so much, baby.” You thank him for the twelfth time before the doorbell to the entrance door rings. “Coming!” Jungkook yells, hoping whoever is outside heard.

…

As both of your families gather at the dining table, where we had to pull some chairs from outside so all eleven of us can eat around the table.

“Okay, so who’s going to start with what they are thankful for?” your sister says as her husband pokes her side, “I say you go first since you wanna share so bad,” your brother-in-law tells her, making everyone laugh.

Your sister scoffs before raising her wine glass to the air, then giving us a look to do the same, causing Jungkook’s mom to let out a small snort. “I’m thankful for all of you guys; you seriously make my days better by just opening the family group chat,” she jokes. “And I’m super thankful for everything I have accomplished this year, cheers!”

“Cheers!” Everyone clinks their glasses in the air, beside Ji-woo, who has her chubby fingers in her mouth, giggling along with whatever we’re saying.

The table goes around saying what they’re thankful for before stopping at Jungkook, his hand on your thigh squeezes before he starts.

“Okay, your turn, my love,” Jungkook’s mom says to Jungkook, who smiles at his mom. “Corny trigger warning, please!” Jung-hyun, Jungkook’s brother, jokes, which gets him a swat from his wife. “What the-“ Jung-hyun rubs the back of his head, staring agape at his wife. The table bursts into a fit of laughter.

“Okay, well, I wanted to start with thanking everybody for coming,” Jungkook starts off, making everyone say a small ‘you’re welcome’. “I’m super thankful for my family; I truly don’t know how I could’ve possibly turned out without you guys,” he continues. “I’m grateful for y/n’s family, my second family; thank you for welcoming me into your life, and god suegra, thank you for birthing y/n,” Jungkook rambles off, causing the biggest laugh to come out of everyone.

“And I’m so grateful for my wife,” his eyes find their way to yours, making you melt into your seat like putty; a bunch of collective ‘oohs’ come out of everyone’s mouth.

“I truly love you with everything in me, and I’m so grateful for you. Thank you for making me the happiest man ever since I met you. You’re literally the best thing that has ever been mine.” Jungkook finishes with a huge smile on his face. Your lip quivers, and your hands make their way to your eyes again, hoping the tears you’re holding in don’t come pouring. Everyone around the table claps and is in awe of you both.

“What’s with you making me cry today?” your hands flap in front of your face, like if that could help the tears blurring your vision.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jungkook wipes the tears that fall down your eyes. “I love you so much I can’t-“ Jungkook shushes you with a small kiss and softly puts your loose hair strands behind your ear.

“Okay, enough lovey-dovey shit. I’m trying to eat!” Jung-hyun says, making everyone laugh as everyone starts digging into the food they put on their plates not so long ago.

Jungkook kisses the corner of your mouth before his fingers move to the gold ‘J’ necklace he got you years ago. Jungkook smiles to himself as his thumb moves across the letter. You pull him from his sweater until his ear is at the same level as your mouth before whispering.

“I love you, now eat.” Jungkook chuckles under his breath at your words before whispering back. “Yes, ma’am.” The hugest smile stays on everyone’s face the whole night.

A/n: hi omg this is my first ever fanfic I have posted, sorry if there’s some errors hope you enjoyed.🤍 (all of this is just fictional)

[seoulmatez]

𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝓊𝓈𝓉

someone has their sights set on you... but that someone is all wrong.

okkotsu yuta x f!reader ﾉ 2.1k wc ﾉ NSFW minors do not interact ﾉ step-brother!yuta ﾉ stepcest ﾉ dubcon (alcohol) ﾉ handjob ﾉ pet names (baby)

When your mother remarries and Yuta comes into your life to fill the role of step-brother, you aren’t exactly sure what to expect.

You’ve never had a brother before, no one to threaten boys in an attempt to discourage them from breaking your heart or annoy you when you have friends over for the night. And you anticipate that he’ll fit the mold, fall into the standard that’s been set by your friends. As unfamiliar as you are with siblings of the male variety—you don’t consider Yuta’s behavior as brotherly.

He’s kind, and you suppose that’s a trait that can be attached to brothers—but not in the way Yuta is nice. There’s something… different about the way he smiles at you, like he’s thinking about things other than what you’re talking about, like there's something else on his mind that you aren’t privy to. It’s a pretty smile, you acknowledge every time you see, but it makes you a bit uneasy.

The things he does for you feel more like acts boyfriends take on—opening doors for you, zipping up your coat, offering to take your makeup off after a long day. It’s hard to turn him away or tell him no, especially when he insists on helping you out. How can you deny him when he wears a pout that’s practically begging for your permission to lend a hand? And, as he says, he’s your brother, after all.

You’re close, but not in the way siblings should be. He tells you a lot, things that he shouldn’t feel comfortable telling his sister, things about his relationships that you have no business knowing, that make your cheeks warm up and your teeth bite down on your lip. He asks about yours, too, curious to know whether or not the boys you bring around are satisfying you, “the way they should be,” he likes to say. You’re never quite sure how to answer him or just why he’s so interested in parts of your life that are meant to be private.

Things have gotten even stranger since the two of you moved out of your parent’s home, relocating to live on your own and start lives outside of your family unit. Yuta still makes an effort to visit you often, going out of his way to make sure the apartment you end up renting isn't too far from his. You’re sure that if it were up to him, he’d have you living in his spare room.

He’s over your place now with the intention of “catching up” despite seeing you only a week ago. His presence in your home has become a normal one, so much so that you’ve gone out of your way to get him his own pair of slippers and even make sure that your fridge is always stocked with enough food for two.

Neither of you has paid the dinner you made much mind, you focusing on your wine and Yuta focusing on you. You’ve almost gotten used to being the subject of his dark stare, but you’ll admit that meeting it is a little easier with alcohol in your system. Another sip of the beverage is enough for you to find your voice. “So, how’s that girl you’ve been seeing?”

Whether it’s because your living room is dimly lit or because you’re starting to feel the effects of the wine, you swear you see Yuta deflate with your question. The lighting isn’t tricking you—his shoulders do slump a bit upon hearing your query. He knows he’s forthcoming with information regarding his relationships but he thought he made the fact clear; that all of these girls are simply placeholders for the one he truly wants. You don’t seem to have caught on. “I’m not seeing her anymore.”

You snort, swirling your wine in its glass. “What was it about this one?”

Yuta’s turnover rate with girlfriends is something to gawk at—you don’t think you could count the number of women he’s wooed over the years even if you tried… not that you’ve ever found yourself keeping track. It should be a glaring red flag, how quickly he moves on from one to the next without batting an eye, but you merely chalk it up to him being a bit of a player. And that much should mean nothing to you. Guys who sleep around aren’t your type and even if you didn’t mind the lifestyle, Yuta is off-limits.

Not that you’ve ever thought of him in that way.

Yuta shrugs. “She just wasn’t right for me.”

“Is anyone?” A giggle bubbles up from your chest and it makes Yuta’s heart jump, bang against his ribcage like it’s trying to escape and make its way into your hands. He’s met with a sick thought, a little voice in the back of his head whispering that your hands are where his heart belongs. “You know, you’re super picky.”

He grins at your claim. It wouldn’t be untrue to say that he has acquired a specific taste, a fixed hunger, over the past few years. “Picky” isn’t quite the right word—he prefers “particular”. “I’m not, I just know what I want.”

You nod, bringing your glass to your lips. “And what’s that?”

“You.”

The little bit of wine that made it into your mouth is sputtered back into the glass as Yuta’s confession wafts through the air. You’re too busy trying to compose yourself to see the way the corners of Yuta’s mouth twitch at your reaction—how his gaze falls to your lips to watch how you lick them to clean up the mess of wine.

 You’ve always thought that he’s treated you like someone other than a sister but you never imagined he’d come right out and say it, and so shamelessly, at that. Your cheeks heat up as the single word hangs in the air, the warmth spreading up to the tips of your ears and some other place that you try not to acknowledge.

What’s worse, the admission doesn’t make your stomach churn in disgust. It doesn’t urge you to stand up and kick him out—tell him not to come back and leave you alone for good. Because as much as you’d like to deny it, to push those sickening feelings down into the deepest, darkest depths of you, there’s a piece of you that feels the same.

“You’ve thought about it, too, haven’t you?” Yuta’s voice cuts through the thick, suffocating air surrounding you. There’s an edge to his tone that you haven’t heard before that has you dragging your bashful gaze up to his.

“It’s okay.  There’s nothing wrong with it,” he reassures you as if he can hear the doubts swimming in your head like angry piranhas. His hand finds yours and you jump at the contact but you don’t pull away. The pad of his thumb runs over your knuckles, calloused skin comforting you in a way it shouldn’t as he continues. “We’re not actually related—only by title.”

“Yeah but… what would people think?” It’s taboo, you know that much—it’s why you’ve been so hellbent on suppressing those nagging feelings of attraction throughout the years. Though, with his confession now out in the open, those very feelings are trying to crawl their way up from the depths of your chest—they’re surfacing.

“No one has to know.” Yuta lightly shakes his head to emphasize his point. The eyes staring you down are glistening with desire, like your question has given the man hope for a long sought-after fantasy. “We can keep it between us… our little secret.”

You chew the inside of your cheek as you ponder over his suggestion. The rational part of you is screaming to snatch your hand away and point him to the door but the part of you led by longing and lust urges you to stay put, to see this through. The two thoughts are like a floating angel and devil on each of your shoulders, both of them whispering in your ear, playing tug-of-war to see which side will win your favor. 

The push you need to make a decision comes in the form of Yuta himself, the man lifting your hand from your lap to his lips. A light kiss brushes your knuckles before he guides your palm to the tent between his legs. You suck in a surprised gasp at the contact your hand makes with the hard bulge.

 “See what you do to me?” Yuta breathes out, light and airy, “Only you can do this to me.” 

A twisted sense of pride sprouts in your chest upon hearing his declaration. Yuta has never hidden the fact that you’re special to him but you never imagined just how special that was. The statement gives you the confidence to touch him of your own will, hand tentatively rubbing over his clothed erection.

Yuta lets out a shattered breath and the sound has your hand stilling and your gaze darting up to his—like a bunny spooked by unexpected commotion. His free hand makes its way up to cradle the side of your face, thumb running up and down your cheek. “Keep going, baby.”

You swallow and nod your head, hand picking up where it left off in its exploration over his jeans. As pretty as the quiet moans yuta releases into the air are, you can’t help but think it would feel better—for the both of you—if there wasn’t a denim barrier between the two of you.

Your fingers reluctantly reach for his belt before pausing in their path. You look up at him through your eyelashes. “C-can I?”

Yuta didn’t think it was possible for him to get even more turned on—not after your initial acceptance, not after he finally felt your touch, but your questions has his pants growing uncomfortably tighter. You’ve always been cute in his eyes but your asking for permission gives him all the more reason to find you absolutely adorable. “Please.”

Dark eyes follow your fingers as they fumble to unbuckle the man’s belt. You’re not sure whether your shaky hands are due to nerves or excitement but the trembling doesn’t go unnoticed by Yuta and when you get his pants and boxers down his hips, he places a steady hand on your quivering one.

It’s warm and big around yours and you don’t question his action, only let him take your hand, guide it to the cock you’ve just pulled out. You’re no longer afraid to admit that you’ve thought about it before—what Yuta’s cock looked like. It’s different seeing the real thing and you find your mouth drying with the sight, lips parted as Yuta continues to steer your hand.

Both of you gasp when your palm meets his skin, dragging beads of precum down Yuta’s shaft with his guidance. beyond your mingled breaths, the lewd squelching that accompanies each assisted stroke of Yuta’s cock sounds in the otherwise quiet air.

Yuta grunts as he helps you jerk his cock, a pleasure he’s never felt before washing over him. “F-fuck—” he chokes out, “I knew you’d feel this good.”

Your hand alone is better than any mouth or pussy he’s been in—it fits like a glove, fingers grazing every vein just right, brushing over his slit, squeezing his shaft. God—if your hand feels this good, Yuta can only imagine what it’ll be like to have your lips wrapped around him, to be buried in the warmth of your cunt. He wonders if you know just what effect you have on him, if you’re aware of how much of a mess the mere thought of you turns him into. 

The moment you look up at him with those doe-ish eyes of yours, he can’t hold out any longer.

And with a series of strangled moans, Yuta comes, ropes of warm cum shooting over your joined hands. You can feel him soften in your hand as you stroke his cock through his high, his musical whimpers meeting your ears.

When he finds his voice, Yuta speaks up. “Made me come so good.”

His hand finally lifts from yours and you’d complain about the cold, empty feeling if it wasn’t relocated beneath your chin. Yuta tips your head up, leaning down to steal a kiss. His lips are pillowy and soft as they dance with yours and you moan into his mouth when his tongue seeks yours. It’s a messy, wet kiss, but one that has you yearning for more—more of his lips, more of his cock, more of him.

You let out a muffled squeal when you feel yourself reclining, Yuta’s weight and imposing presence hovering above you as you come to lie back on the couch. You suck in a breath after Yuta pulls away. He presses his forehead against yours, meeting your widened gaze.

“Let me take care of you, baby.”

sua here ( ≧ᗜ≦) thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, reblogs are greatly appreciated!