#you can really make anything out of plants if u put ur mind to it. amazing

[cannibal-anon]

while ive recently gone back to eating meat im still appreciative of all the plant-based recipes i learnt in the past year

[all444miles]

can you please do 42!miles with a baddie like a Megan type vibe? SHE HAS A PINK JEEP

💗💗💗💗

— SHE A BADDIE

— pairing: e42!miles x fem!black!reader — genre: fluff — summary: what its like for 42 miles to date a reader with a "baddie like megan" vibe. — a/n : i felt like i was a lil lazy writing this, sorry ! can yall tell i got excited abt the jeep n the attitude part.. its litch what kept me writing this whole thing 😭 also, a car creeper is those lil things u slide under to fix the underside of ur car — a/n 2: changed the way i start writin a jus a lil, petition for head over heels 42 miles supremacy !! + this was so fun.. like i was writing this n i was like "lemme be this when i grow up" LMAOOO so ty for the request anonnn, mwah and enjoy !!

MILES FALLS IN LOVE with you every second. like, honestly, just do anything, he's wrapped around your finger.

maybe he'll try and hide it, but you make him fold 24/7. you dont even have to do nothing.

it's just something about your energy, the way you dont give a damn about nothing, he just loves it. y'all are like beast boy and raven.

"mama, you killin' me right now." "hm? did i do somethin'?" "i love you so, so much. i swear, you make me weak." "aww, hun, I love you more." "yeah, keep dreamin'. now, lemme love on you."

hype man, hype man, HYPE MANN

when I say if you want to do anything he's here for it, he's here for it.

you wanna get your hair done? he's at your service.

you wanna go to the mall? he's already throwing you the keys to your jeep.

you wanna get your nails done? show him your options (he always likes the french tips, esp this.)

"Y'know Miles, i think this set ain't looking too good no more.." "You wanna get new nails?" "Mhm, wanna help me pick?" "'Course I do, let's see em."

does not care what you wear, he's always gonna say you look gorgeous. plus, he can fight. but, he's always got his hands on your waist. always.

you're your own girl, he knows that. he spoils you, yes, but he'll always let you do your own thing.

he can't explain it, but when you refer to him as "my man", or your anything, really, it does something to his heart.

yk when latto goes "ty to my man"? yeah, that's you.

"My nails? Yeah, my man helped me pick 'em."

you have attitude. Miles doesn't mind, he's a "yes ma'am" kind of guy, but if it's to him, hes gonna shut you down.

a lot of the times, you won't care, and it won't end in an argument, becuase he's still shutting you down regardless.

"Miles, you lost your shit or sum." "Amor, drop that tone f'me, aight?"

you are a party animal, and Miles? He'll just be in the back, watching you do your thing with your friends. If you ask him to dance with you though, he will for sure.

Will he throw money on you? Yes, yes he will. (Not sexual btw !)

Your jeep. He has his own car, but he honestly loves yours the best.

He helped you decorate it, all pretty and pink

He will happily get in your jeep while you blast Megan or Rihanna because c'mon now, who wouldnt?

I'm insistent he's good with mechanics, so he'll tune your car whenever you need him to, bryson tiller or tory lanez playing while he does so. (i'm losing my shit rn.)

"Cariño, ¿puedes pasarme esa llave inglesa? It's to ya left." (Baby, can you pass me that wrench?)

he'd say, sliding out from the car creeper under the hood of your pink jeep, sliding back in after you passed him the tool.

and after about 15 minutes, he'd come back out, putting a dirty cloth over his shoulder, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

its a sight to see: white tank top, slightly stained with grime from fixing your car; his favorite gold chain glistened in the sun, adorned with beaded glints of sweat from his neck.

"Aight, i think she's good, you can start her up if you wanna." "Yay! thank you for fixing my car, baby, I love youu."

you'd squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck to plant a kiss on his cheek, your pink tinted lip gloss staining his face.

"Ain't no problem princesa, I love you too."

© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

[b1mbodoll]

i dont know why hybrid breeders thought it was a perfect idea to put bunny!you in a cage with wolf!nicho (＞人＜;) he so obviously could break you to pieces but instead he likes to play with you! pulling on your ears and flicking your tail :( it's enough to make you whine everytime but he doesn't care !!!! and eventually when his heat comes, you can tell bcs hes twice as mean when teasing you, pushing you down and lifting your ass up so he could "play with you like normal" but the whole time his hybrid cock is running against your pussy TT n when you get really fussy it gets hard not to fill you all the way up completely (non con) ★★★ literally theres no way you're getting out of his hold! you can cry and try to push him away but hes 10x stronger than you and his heat makes him soooo hot all he can think abt is making your tummy swell up with his pups! (so unrealistic but i know you're into it but imagine him fucking his knot into you so deep it starts pooling out your mouth and your eyes are rolled back and u cant do anything but feel it completely)

love 🎀 anonie!

pairings: nicholas wang x f! reader

warnings: hybrids + inflation + knotting + breeding + blood + noncon + jealousy + a/b/o dynamics + drool + daddy kink + subspace + inflation

💌: i had to prio this bc its so dreamy like 😵‍💫 u included a lot of my fave kinks n tropes n im so thankful i love u so much for swndinf this my way idk how much i can add on bc its lrtrly perfect but i hope i do it justice !

the first time you and nicho r forced into the same cramped cage your heart was racing and ur tail was twitching so bad :( your reaction tugged at nicho’s heartstrings but the lust he felt was overpowering any bit of sympathy. he’s not a complete monster so he doesn’t take your virginity immediately. instead the wolfboy satiates his sick need to torment you by tugging at your loppy ears and mouthing at your cotton tail, strings of saliva coat the entire thing n pool at your asshole.

he doesn’t go any further yet, has to get you used to the “tame” stuff before he can fuck you raw. tries to hold back for as long as he can but the closer he gets to his rut, the less self control he has n it’s your fault he’s got his teeth planted on your shoulder as he slips his cockhead inside. “your pussy is so tiny, bunny,” he murmers, words slightly slurred from the drool escaping him, “gonna fuckin’ tear you apart.”

before he’s able to fill you up completely, nicho’s needed in the breeding room n your handler lets you out into the gated pasture, doing their best to keep you two in seperate enclosures from that moment on.

it’s been a week since your caging situation was sorted n the wolfboy is lucky if he catches a glimpse of you through a fence. words cant describe how furious nicholas is, snarling at the sight of bunny hybrid! euijoo cuddling up to you under a tree wishing he could scare the male into submitting to him n prove to you that he’s the prime mating choice.

it’s not long before your luck runs out and wolf! nicholas corners you after your caretakers have gone to bed. he’s so large and intimidating and his cold stare makes your legs shake with fear. the silence is deafening and he breaks it by asking to play, the question making your blood run cold because in his world, “playing” means letting him grope you n leave bloody lovebites across your chest. he doesn’t bother waiting for a reply because no matter how much you refuse he’s not gonna leave you alone. he needs to touch you.

nicho decides to go about toying with you differently this time. has to put you in your place n get it through your head that you nd your bunnycunt belong to him! snarls when he gets a whiff of euijoo’s scent, “present f’me, slut” he demands and the need to obey is so strong. has you opening your legs immediately, small hands spreading your hole open to expose your pussy. he groans at the sight and his mind becomes cloudy due to his impending rut, cant take the time to prep your cunt for his huge cock so he just opts to get it over with and makes you take his entire length in one go. “knew you’d feel good ‘round my cock,” his voice is thick, “gonna make you have my pups, bun.” more filthy words are directed to you n they have you keening, fucking yourself on his cock faster n faster.

it’s easy to slip into a submissive headspace, the feeling of his balls slapping your clit and knot beginning to inflate are overwhelmingly delicious leaving you no choice but to beg. “pleasepleaseplease cum, alpha! need your knot so bad i hafta make you a daddy!” nicholas fucking howls when his seed shoots directly into your womb and it makes your eyes cross. even after his knot reaches its full size he continues grinding his cock into you, cum getting pushed so deep inside it spills out of your open mouth n trickles down your chin. he’s too far gone and can’t stand the sight of his semen dripping out, cups your jaw with his hands n covers your mouth, makin you choke on the creamy fluid <3

[bbyquokka]

imagine felix laying on ur chest while u play with his soft hair and kiss his forehead bye its been on my mind all day i need someone to cuddle me😠😠🙁

summer luvin'

FLUFF BELOW CUT – MINORS, AGELESS & DEFAULT BLOGS; DNI

warnings: gn reader, established relationship, domesticated au, non-idol au, pet names. words: 0.9k ~ (902)

dont repost. dont translate. feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

the scorching hot sun beats down on your skin. the hot, suffocating air blows past you every now and then, the wind chimes singing with each hit of the humid wind.

the skies are clear, not a cloud in the sky to help provide some shade from the intense heat the sun is providing. you have done everything that needed to be done today so you're now taking the time to relax.

the only thing that needed to be done, was water the plants and freshly grown veg and fruits you and your significant other, felix, have decided to grow together to help reduce the cost of grocery shopping; even if it's just a little.

a pink and white plaid picnic blanket rubs against the skin of your arms and legs. the soft texture of the grass shifts around and rustles as you lean up on your elbows. you place one hand above your eyes to provide you some cover from the sun as you watch your lover water the strawberries and cucumbers.

blue denim shorts and green crocs accompany him. his blue hair pushed back with the help of a black headband, beads of sweat roll down his forehead and temples. his naked chest and torso on display as his skin is slowly turning from a tanned colour to bright, burning red.

“hey felix.” he looks at you as he holds the green watering can. “have you put on sun cream?”

felix pouts a little, looking around sheepishly before shrugging and giving you a cheeky smile. you sigh, shaking your head slowly as you sit up fully and grab the sun cream.

“c'mere.” felix finishes watering the plants before bouncing over to you. he takes of his crocs by wiggling his feet and legs before kneeling down on the blanket in front of you.

“lix, you're burning.” you frown.

“i thought i did put on suncream.” he pouts.

“it's the hottest day of the year darling. you have to be safe, especially when you're out.”

“oh, this is nothing! it's way hotter in australia.” he laughs.

“we are in australia.” you state as you squirt the cream onto the palm of your hand.

“oh.. right, yeah. ops.” felix laughs as you shake your head and rub your palms together.

“on your stomach. i'll put some cream on your back.” felix shuffles into his stomach, arms being used as supports for his head as he rests his cheeks on them. you rub the cream into his hot skin as you feel a tad worried about how red his skin is looking, making a mental note to by some aloe vera next time you're both out and about.

you rub the cream onto his back and the back of his legs before helping him in applying the cream on his chest, abs and arms. you apply some on his nose and cheeks.

“your freckles are so clear now.”

“they are?”

“yeah. the sun really helps bring them out. your whole face is decorated with freckles. it's the cutest thing i've seen.”

a pink blush rises to his cheeks to which you giggle at before stroking the blush. you gently kiss his cheek as felix hums softly.

“do we need to do anything else today?” he asks softly as he watches you reapply your own sun cream.

“i don't think so lix. i think we've doing everything today.”

“great!” your eyes widen as felix gently tackles you. you land on your back with a soft thump and grunt as felix nuzzles into your chest, his arm loosely draped over your stomach. once the initial shock of the sudden attack is over, do you smile and hold him close to you.

you both ignore the fact that you're two very hot people, skin sticking together as the heat from the sun and each other mixes and rises. sweat accumulates on both your foreheads, the feeling of stickiness and grossness rising; but you both ignore it.

you close your eyes slowly as you listen to the sounds of the birds singing their sweet and gentle tunes. the cheers and shouts of children playing in their back yards ringing in your ears before occasionally dying down to nothing but blissful silence.

you absentmindedly twist felix's blue hair around your finger, raking your fingers through it and massaging his scalp. he lets out soft and gently hums and groans as you occasionally kiss the top of his head.

soon, the heat of each other becomes too much. after minutes of being close to one another, does felix pull away slowly. he stands up and disappears into the kitchen. you hear the sound of water running and felix rummaging around in the cupboards.

you think nothing of it, thinking he was just preparing some food and drinks for you both, until you feel something wet explode onto your stomach causing you to shriek and bolt upright.

you look up at a mischievous looking felix. a couple of water balloons in his hands as a bucket of them is situated by his feet.

“oh! you're on, mr!” you laugh as you grab a balloon and instantly throw it at his torso.

“water balloon fight! looser has to cook dinner!” you shout as you rush to your feet, grabbing more balloons in your hands.

“oh, you're on yn! just know that i'm going to kick your ass.”

“in your dreams, felix!”

note: if its hot where you live, remember to stay hydrated, wear sun cream and dont stay out for too long!! stay safe everyone ☀

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @oshimee ; @unh0ly-dr3am3r ; @septicrebel ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer ; @telesvng

[caspersscareschool]

imagine im sending all the emojis under Character Specific - i love when u talk about the versions of the turtles that exist in ur mind, theyre canon to me (has never watched the show or any movie)

you are the realest one out there I'm so serious. under cut because that's a lot of questions

first of all: she/her leo, he/it raph, he/him donnie, any/all mikey but mostly he/him unless the situation calls for it

🥊 Does Raph have anger issues? If so, how does Raph deal with his anger?

i guess you could say that it does, but its issues have more to do with the guilt and fear associated with feeling or expressing anger on any level. he relies a lot on leo's constant emotional support

🧶 Does Raph knit?

no, but yoshi sews. raph's hobbies include raising butterflies and stag beetles, planting herbs and then forgetting to water them and crying when they die a week later, basketball, and lacrosse (but only with leo). he also has a hamster named daisy whom he would kill himself for without a moment's hesitation

🗣️ Is your Leo the leader? Has he always been?

...there's not really a "leader" since that's not how families work in real life, but she's generally the dubious voice of reason and the one who carries everybody's water bottles and medications and whathaveyou. she resents this position a little but doesn't have the self awareness to confront it

🔥 Is Leo accident prone? Especially in the kitchen?

no ❤️ she's not good at cooking because she is too afraid of failure to put any effort towards building skills that don't come naturally to her, so if it was her job to cook dinner she'd just dump a bunch of hot sauce and tuna and jelly and cheese and gravy in a pot and go heheheyhehheehhehehe Soup👍

🔬 Is Donnie only interested in Tech?

I'm not entirely clear on what this question means. he has other interests outside stem, but in my verse his focus is much more on computer science and mechanical engineering than any other field of science, so he kind of doesn't gaf about biology or anything organic or "squishy." if that was the question. other interests include grindcore music, transformers, my little pony (the toys), swimming, gambling, arguing on forums, sculpting, 3d animation, girls, and other things.

🤖 Does your Donnie have a robot child?

Grins really huge.

🎨 Is Mikey the artist of the family?

yes but he's best at cartoons and graffiti and abstract designs. he also makes his own music (mostly experimental hip-hop). donnie is a far better representational artist, but he doesn't consider his work "art" since he doesn't have mikey's imagination or eye for color and he pays mikey disgusting amounts of dubiously-sourced money to draw his pngtuber rantsona. mikey in turn spends this money on fancy cheese

😈 Is Mikey a little shit?

what more is there to say. Yes

🐀 Was Splinter a human or an animal before he was mutated?

human. but don't worry about it

🧑‍🍼 How does Splinter raise the boys?

Jesus. i really don't know how to get into this without copy/pasting 3 pages of backstory from my notes doc. he did his best that's all i can say

💏 Does/Did Splinter have a significant other?

he had a weird bisexual thing. which is different. i can't disclose more at this time

🎤 Is April a reporter?

april is a first-year undergrad majoring in journalism and minoring in environmental science. she interns at her college newspaper, and lately has been going to dangerous lengths to uncover her "big break" so they'll let her do more than edit the crossword

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 Is April considered a sibling?

she's like. okay. april is an integral part of their family, AND. she's also really not a surrogate/adopted/found sister in a literal sense. yoshi isn't her dad, and her relationship with the turtles is quite distinct from their relationship with each other as siblings, but it's still just as important, because she's family. like, found family outside of any traditional nuclear family roles. she's their best friend and they're her home away from home

🏒 Does Casey play hockey?

casey is such a minor character in my verse right now that it's actually kind of hysterical that they'd be on this list. they used to play, yeah.

🦸 Is Casey a vigilante?

they are a serial murderer.

[wyrvel]

how do you analyze characters yourself and/or what resources (wikis or other stuff(?)) do u use to like,, figure out their inner workings and nail them down as like. this is this character in [canon universe], this is how they act, so then for you can go, okay. if they were in [au scenario] they would act like this.

also what guidelines do u set for yourself to keep the silly guys in character when ur writing them ,

u seem very knowledgeable about these things so i had to ask

I reread the source material, mainly, wikis tend to skim some details. I tend to treat characterization in a very ADHD conspiracy theorist way where I extrapolate and try to find links between small moments. WIkis are useful for gathering small moments I might have forgotten, which I need to do because ADHD conspiracy theories get out of hand VERY quickly and I need to control that impulse.

I've accidentally made the same tweet about it more than once so Minegishi & Shimazaki are probably good examples. A lot of people default to Shimazaki being a soulless child-beating asshole, but all of the people in Claw do that. What I find relevant:

He does this for fun, and hasn't really come across anyone who can stop him, making him complacent in how much powers are worth

He focuses very hard on Teru, the only psychic strong enough to fight him

He is the one who instigated Serizawa's hazing in the omake

He asks Minegishi to stop being mean to Serizawa when he commits to the bit too hard, it made him uncomfortable

When he sees Serizawa talk to Touchirou like he's the boss of a company, he's uncomfortable and weirded out

So what I get from this is that he has an inflated perspective of his status in the world due to his psychic powers, and enjoys flaunting that, but in social situations he's pretty mild and doesn't enjoy antagonism or misleading others.

AKA he probably would not beat the ass of a regular middle-schooler and maybe not even a psychic middle-schooler but if the middle-schooler has psychic powers AND wants to stop him he'd LOVE to beat their ass because it means winning in a duel using what he thinks makes him special, reinforcing his status, which ties in with the general theme of Claw. Somewhat of a foil to Teru and a reinforcement of Touchirou's perspective here.

When writing fics, my first instinct is to keep this web of factoids in mind and see if there's any other details that can slot in. For example, what if Shimazaki is uncomfortable with actively misleading others because he's blind and he's often had that done to him? Not like he has any trauma about it or anything, it just puts him off a little.

Blindness is a REALLY juicy factor to extrapolate from though. Like did he have the resources available for his disability? How much has he depended on his powers? He definitely seems like the kind of dude who gave up on schoolwork. I mean, why worry about work? Why worry about accommodations? He's hot and can fucking teleport. Stuff like that.

Meanwhile Minegishi

Has killed people. Has the only canon kill count in claw arc

is used as an example of a "bad person" for Mogami

Incredibly serious and grim among the group but joined in on Shimazaki hazing Serizawa and doubled down immediately

Minegishi turned over a new leaf just from being vouched for

Minegishi was angry with Touchirou for discarding Serizawa even though they knew Touchirou was ruthless

Afterward, they changed their mind about using plants as tools

According to the databook, Minegishi 19, so if they were in Claw when Serizawa joined they joined at 16

After re-integrating with normal life they express gratitude

The vibes I get from these details is that Minegishi is antisocial but likes feeling included, and Touchirou recruited them when they were very vulnerable. They could have benefited from a workplace with friendly coworkers but Suzuki wanted them to Kill. (Another strong reason for Mogami to single them out. See something you don't like king? 💔) And also Minegishi has Super Autism.

I like the idea of Minegishi and Shimazaki hanging out because the traits "extremely aggressive and cruel with his strengths but socially a normie who tries not to push it, made it deep into adulthood this way" and "cold and utilitarian with their strengths but socially straightforward with a sahara-dry sense of humour, is young enough to not be sure of their sense of self" is an incredibly disjointed combo. I need them to be best friends. I think Shimazaki doesn't really care if people hate him and is blind so he's immune to Minegishi's attitude and Autism Death Glare its perfect

Sorry, lost track. Anyway just collect small facts about the character and do your best to connect them into their greater characterization. Don't be afraid to put your thumb on the scale for the importance of certain traits, every author does it

[ooooshetriesss]

Hey yall! Super quick reminder; This is MOST definitely a 18+ blog

(Which I feel is made clear) but IF for some reason I have blocked u, (which I usually never do) plz know it’s bcuz I saw u engaging w/my content/following me & either found indications u were underage OR no clear indication u we’rent a minor (ageless +faceless blogs/bios)

While I don’t owe an explanation of my boundaries to anyone as no is both as explanation & response; I NEVER wanna come across as rude/disrespectful to followers of my content, as well as the community in general, & while I understand ppl usually explore things prior to turning 18… I NEED YALL to know I CANNOT have me NOR my content have anything to do w/that… any creator who is ok w/that is probably someone u should stay away from.. while certain aspects of my post are msgs I think are important regardless of age, (I.e. being ace or Demi doesn’t make u less valid, or rope CAN absolutely be platonic)

THESE are NOT things you should be actively exploring in the community/looking up until ur of age..

Hell… for me, im insanely grateful finding rope when I did cause HAD I found it/ tried to get into the bdsm community at the fresh age of 18; holy f*ck …. I really don’t know if I would be alive (& that’s not an exaggeration; I’m 100% serious)

Rope + BDSM can be AMAZING & insanely fun & done safetly ; platonically in a cool environment.. it can be ALL those things…

But ONLY if you don’t rush into things; approach it w/AWARENESS, knowledge & care.

And a BIG part of that comes with age+experience idc what anyone says…

and NO! trusting the WRONG ppl or making a BAD CALL doesnt make u STUPID. hell; it makes u HUMAN!

and sadly, being younger makes us far more trusting.. it takes a few heart breaks/lessons to truly become aware NOT everyone means well… & to put it bluntly.. that is NOT soemthing u want to find out while you are bound at someones feet…

Can something still go wrong when ur of age OFC…

But u’ll be better equipped to where u maybe able to handle it…

A tree can’t heal when it’s hacked up as a young plant… it NEEDS a foundation..

Once it GETS that foundation.. even if something horrible happened… a huge storm took half of it out.. it’s more than likely able to grow back..

It’s not fully destroyed.

It actually has a fighting chance..

It’s the same concept waiting until ur of age to get into the scene.

Also, while I empathize with the amount of things this generation has been exposed to; to the point they’re truly desensitized when it comes to overtly graphic images both violent & sexual whether it be thru the internet + media..(hell even going to school everyday w/the knowledge u could be in class w/the next school shooter…

My dudes; my dudettes.. theydies, Naydies.. my brothers in keyboards & Christ…

I CANNOT… like absolutely CANNOT HAVE/ condone MINORS consuming my content/in my blog.. in my community.. anything like that.

(For what it’s worth; I’ll prob still be here up to the same shenanigans when ur actually of age so; u can swing by then)

But AS someone who was exposed to things that were FAR beyond appropriate for my age… someone who grew up & took pride in those words "Your so mature for your age" "youre so wise beyond ur yrs"

before those vry phrases were weaponized against me..

it affects u in ways you can’t even begin to fully appreciate until ur much older..

And while I always rolled my eyes hearing “you wouldn’t understand at your age” (bcuz most the times it was said to me; it was BS) this is absolutely a case & point where it applies 100%

If there’s 1 things an abundance of images LIKE these & the vast amounts of overtly sexual content out there (porn included) soils /absolutely destroy when it comes to young minds.. young ppl

It’s the most sacred thing of all…

Connection..

I can’t even begin to put into words or # the amount of yrs I suffered & connections I lost because of what was destroyed because of that.

It’s taken A LOT of healing… A LOT of shadow work, A LOT of therapy; lol. THAT work is why I have such a positive foundation for my play today.

But quite literally the most beautiful thing about all of this, gets destroyed..because u didn’t build ur ideas based off of actual human experience.. it was fantasies projected for you; onto u, scripts that wwre acted out infront of you to sell content, to sell an image..

but they dont make that differentiation; its just portrayed as 'how it is', all at a time when ur brain is STARVING for 1) information 2) connection .. a time in youe life when ur body is regulating its hormones & brain chemistry to create 'the adult its trying to become'

we really go thru 2 puberty's as humans; one in our teens & the other in our early 20's before our brain fully develops at 25.

(theres actually been recent studies that suggest neurodivergent brains don't finish fully developing until they're 30s ; something that would absolutely explain a lot in my personal case... & yet are seen/treated legally as ADULTS at 18..

Says a lot they don’t want u to drink till your 21; but you can sign your life away to the military at 18…👀

No one ‘magically’ turns into an adult at 18… life is SO much more complex than that. But it’s quite literally the bare minimum in giving urself a chance at a healthy happy relationship w bdsm or rope. (& if ur anything like me… you’ll probably still absolutely fk up then 😂; BUT you will be BETTER EQUIPPED to protect urself.

Save urself the trauma, the time… start exploring these themes-content when ur OF AGE!!!

So… if I blocked/remove u… PLS know..: it’s done out of love & protection.

💗♥️💗 ILU all

Be kind to yourself, be patient with yourself. You are worth the wait. I promise… ANYONE playing+rigger who IS worth working w WILL NEVER pressure + press you…& they CERTAINLY wouldn’t even LOOK at u until u were of age. Full stop.

And ofc, if a creator says MDNI, RESPECT THEIR BOUNDARIES/consent.

Thank u for coming to yet another TedTalk; sincerely; @ooooshetriesss aka hummmmingbird aka Fil 💗

[penvisions]

Hello Dev 💛🥹

How are you doing? I hope honestly that you’re doing good because you deserve it. 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

So I’ve made it my mission to spread some of my love and appreciation to all my favorite writers (which you are one of clearly) for the work u put in creating stories that make me very happy. I literally have a list full of names, that sounds crazy, but I promise it’s nothing weird I’m just trying to keep track 🫠😅

Before I get into my mission, I have to say something else. I think it’s really fucking terrible of people to steal writers work and then go around and trying to manipulate the writer to believe they actually stole first like the audacity to gaslight wtf. I’ve seen one too many times that an incredible writer gets their hard work just copied and there’s so little you can do about that and then the people who steal are so fucking mean. I get it writing is hard and sometimes you look at other peoples stuff to see how they write to get creative juices flowing but you don’t just straight up copy it I mean, I would ask for writing advice or idk, anything but plagiarism….there’s so many people who love that writers work and they will notice when that writing shows up somewhere else and then you have a lot of people on your ass rightfully so for stealing. And now that I’ve actually started to write something myself, I feel like I can understand it a little more because if I just try to imagine that somebody would take this story and try to sell it as their own when it is literally my story like actually my story, this is my life experience written in a story and you’re trying to sell that as your own, I would go ballistic I would, I would be very mad. Let’s just say that. 💀

Dev I’m truly so sorry that happened to you 💛

Well, enough of that let’s get into the good stuff 😚😚

I am pretty sure I found my way here because somebody else (I don’t remember who anymore🫣) rb your story “by the grit of Sandpaper” and it absolutely peaked my interest. I mean basically anything with Joel Miller peaks my interest, but you know. 😉💛 Sadly though I did not get around to reading it yet. I’ve kind of also been putting it off because I want to read it and then immediately let u know what I think. If the memory is still fresh, then my thoughts are much better articulated if that makes sense. Here’s the thing I’m trying to write my own first story and simultaneously i have a lot on my other list of stuff that I really want to read or reread and it’s a little overwhelming, but I’m trying to work my way through that and let me tell you when I get to your stories you will definitely see me scream in a very loving way for sure. 😅💛

I think you’ll probably see me scream even before that because one of my other mission is to engage more and be more mindful of the fact that there are people writing the stuff that I love, so please know that you should never feel pressured or forced to get a chapter or story out as quick as possible. I will wait however much time it takes because in the end, it’s absolutely worth it.

Ok one last thing (this is already so long I’m sorry 🥺) I know everyone on here is literally a person like me and everyone is just writing their silly little stories but I look up to so many and it feels like interacting with a celebrity, I hope that doesn’t sound weird. I might also feel like that because I’m a very secluded person like I talk to 2 people in my day-to-day life, I definitely talk more to my plants than anyone else 😅 🫣🥴

Dev u made my morning with making us mutuals I squealed like a little girl seeing the notification, does that make us friends (?). I mean the love for Pedro already connects us🥹

I would love to know, since ur a cat mom, what kind of cats u have and how many 😍

And since u like to bake I’m interested to know what’s ur favorite thing to bake 👩‍🍳🧁🥯🎂🍰🍪🍩

I hope u have fantastic day and take care of yourself Dev 💛🫶🏻

i love that you've made it a personal mission to brighten everyone's days with your lovely self!! only a truly good person would even think to do it and i love you for that. the discourse has been insane this year and trying to combat it is an admirable notion, thank you for your kind words on the really shitty instance of my fics getting stolen not once but twice, really ♡

take your time working through your TBR, bb, i know mine is about a mile long lol. fics seem to call on us when we're ready and in a good place to accept them, so i trust in the waiting process c: i

i hope youre writing is going well and that the words are flowing, you got this!! i can't wait to read what you have to share with us

of course we're friends, bb, we always were even if we just didn't know it yet ♡♡

i've got four fur babies! two tabby brothers, a flully void, and a fluffy tortie, they are my world even if they don't let me sleep much these days as they get used to their new home

and my absolute faaaavorite thing to bake is cookies! they're so versatile and there's so many choices for fillings from chocolate chips to macadamia nuts c:

hope the days are good to you, ily ♡

[xiao-isms]

Hello I just recently found your Sub Xiao things and oh my god thank you for the food 😍😍 If ur taking requests, Reader with a strap on with a dildo that can vibrate, and Xiao taking it ? 👀 Multiple orgasms would be fun, but anything you write is excellent so I don’t mind where you take this 😳

— dirty.

character. xiao

content warnings. multiple orgasms, semi dirty talk, verbal humiliation, cum eating, a little bit of cross-dressing. note that reader does have a strap-on but i tried to make it as gn as possible !

word count: 1.7k words

voicemail. agshs thank u sm anon! i really liked writing this one so i hope you enjoy <3 ps sorry if the ending is rushed, i recently started uni so ive been superrr busy lately

you slid a hand up xiao’s milky thigh and underneath his blush pink pleated skirt with a mischievous grin on your lips. halting for a moment, you took the opportunity to squeeze that soft, meaty flesh that you loved so dearly, pressing wet kisses and angry red hickies across his skin. once satisfied with your work, you pull away and lift your head to look the mighty yaksha right in his now watery eyes and archons, you doubted even the lord of geo himself would believe you if you told him how pathetic his war-hardened adeptus looked at this very moment, all from a few simple touches. the sight was laughable, really; his hard cock protruded from his pretty little skirt, precum already beginning to stain the garment, accompanied by a face so flushed you swore you could see steam emerging from the top of the other's head. you grabbed the man by his chin and yanked him forward. "you're fucking disgusting." the words came out a bit harsher than intended but xiao, oh xiao, he loved it. he loved it when you made him feel absolutely deplorable; when you broke him until he felt like he couldn't be fixed. he didn't respond, just looked at you with hunger, like he was silently begging you to fuck his brains out.

you could feel a primal need rumbling from deep inside your chest. “does that turn you on?” you asked with a cheeky grin that only seemed to be getting larger by the second. the petite man whimpered in your tight hold, nodding ever so slightly but much too embarrassed to give a direct response. “how naughty of you, xiao. so shy, and yet so, so dirty.” you interlocked your lips with his, sliding your tongue in his small mouth as soon as you got the chance. it was messy and sloppy and it felt like xiao hadn’t kissed anyone a day in his life, saliva running down the sides of his pointed chin while his mouth hung open, completely pliant, but it was so hot. you were the first to pull away which only made the adeptus whine in a desperate, high-pitched voice.

“so needy,” you whispered in the shell of his ear, rubbing his sensitive sides. “you want it? you want my cock in you, pretty boy?” he makes a sound of affirmation, one that you can’t quite make out, but one nonetheless. xiao shouldn’t be acting like this, he knows he shouldn’t—he’s a yaksha, a seasoned demon slayer, and yet, whenever he’s with you like this, he just can’t seem to control himself. he thrusted his little hips into thin air with vigor in what seemed to be an attempt to get some kind of friction, something—anything—to soothe his aching, leaking dick. “ah, ah,” you hummed, gripping his waist so tightly you were both positive there would be bruises there the next morning. “the only way you’re going to cum tonight is with my cock plowing into your tiny hole.”

the way his face contorted slightly and his brows furrowed while fresh, blood-hot tears ran down his flushed cheeks only spurred you on further. you spread his legs as far as possible, yanking both his cute panties and tight skirt off, throwing it behind you without care. you haphazardly coated your fingers in saliva before inserting them inside your boy with newfound fervor, eager to fuck him until he couldn’t think straight and was unable to scream anything other than your name. he moaned and cried and whimpered as you pumped your wet digits in and out of his hole. the adeptus whined, he was so close, so close, but he desperately wanted to be good for you-- and there's hardly anything that he wouldn't do to achieve that, even if it meant holding back his own orgasm. you scissored your middle and index finger, adding a third once you were sure xiao was stretched well enough. soon, you were able to thrust your digits in back and forth freely while the other's body continuously spasmed and shook with close to unbearable pleasure.

too impatient to keep waiting to enter the small man, you pulled your fingers out entirely, the act ripping a loud wail from your lover. "wh...w-why'd you stop?" the words were slurred and almost incomprehensible—it sounded something akin to what someone drunken on sex would say, certainly not a powerful immortal such as himself. the question truly makes you wonder if he'd actually been paying attention to your previous statement or if he really was that incoherent already. how cute, you hadn't even started and here he was, a drooling, stupid mess. you didn't respond, instead opting to press your lips against his, thrusting your tongue deep into his mouth once again. whether or not he understood you before didn't matter, the night would end the same way: with xiao becoming an inchoate husk of a being, only able to give as much pleasure as he received.

quickly, you fastened the harness onto your waist, clicking the straps in place. the plastic toy connected to the o-ring of the strap-on was useful in more ways than one; you knew the both of you’d love it as soon as you saw it. slowly—or, as slowly as you could, patience thrown to the wind long ago—you slid inside of your boy with ease, his breath hitching in the most adorable ways. you smirked and wrapped your fingers around the small device that activated the dildo. “are you ready?” before the man under you had a chance to answer, you clicked the 'on' button, the sex toy whirling to life. for a second, you thought you could see hearts in xiao’s teary, amber eyes. he looked so, so beautiful like this; spreading his legs and moaning for you like a cheap hooker. nimble fingers landed on his waist once again, allowing your hips to slam against the meat of his thighs. his mouth hung agape in shock at the sudden movement, whimpers and whines spilling from those pretty, swollen lips. "a-ah! mmph, p-please go s—oh!—" the words seemed to have fallen dead on his tongue due to a particularly well aimed thrust, hurling him forward. every little movement felt so good, like he was on cloud nine, and oh god, don't even get him started on the way the pseudo cock vibrated in him, making his head go blank with overwhelming lust. he could feel that familiar heat stirring in his abdomen, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"mm, 'm gonna cum, ooh, g-gonna cum, p-please!"

with one more rough, domineering push of your hips, he came over the newly washed bed sheets. you slowly came to a stop and slipped your fingers over the head of his now softening sex, swiping away a hefty amount of your lover's seed and putting it towards his face. "open.” you demanded, inserting your moist digits in his mouth. his red, puffy lips wrapped around them, lazily licking you clean. "good boy," you praised as you pulled your fingers from him. "do you like that? you like eating your own cum like a filthy whore, hm?" he didn’t respond, apparently much too fucked out to even nod. you pulled the man’s cheeks together, leaning down and pressing the tip of your nose to his own.

“i asked you a question.”

his mouth opened slightly at the deep, commanding tone of your voice; he was trying to answer you, he was trying to be good, but his mind was so fuzzy he could hardly breathe. with much struggle, he moves his head up and back down. the action was hardly noticeable with how subtle it was, but you took pity on the poor yaksha, placing a kiss that he felt was almost too gentle considering the current situation. you heard a whimper erupt from xiao and a small, close to inaudible humming sound could be heard within the quiet room.

oh.

you had forgotten about that.

the adeptus trembled underneath your form with overstimulation. he feared he was going to cum again, untouched; he could feel it in the way his dick was beginning to harden again, the way the muscles in his stomach churned and tightened in the most delightful ways, ways that made him feel lightheaded and painfully aroused. you were silent, watching your lover’s face scrunch up with a glint of pure lust clear in your half-lidded eyes. you begin to rock your hips back and forth again, only moving a centimeter an inch this time. xiao couldn’t stop thinking about how good you felt inside him, how his slick walls clenched and unclenched around your barely moving cock, making the smallest squelching noises.

it was all so filthy.

with that thought, the warm coil in his lower body burst and he was positive that he was seeing stars from how hard he’d just orgasmed. it was ego-boosting, really, knowing that only you could touch him like this, look at him like this. you hummed, increasing the pace of your thrusts until xiao was crying and incoherent, garbled whines falling from his mouth. “s-sen—o-oh fuck!” tears clouded his vision as you abused his prostate, taking advantage of that sensitive spot inside him. with heavy breaths, you leaned down to look at him directly, the smell of sweat and sex prominent on both of your bodies. “you’re such a good boy, xiao,” you commended between grunts and quiet moans. you brushed his messy hair back so you could see the pleasure on his flushed face, planting kisses on each of his cheeks. he keened at the attention, throwing his arm over his face to hide from the embarrassment.

“you take my cock so well, such a brave boy.” you knew he loved to be showered in praise more than anything, even more than he loved to be pinned down and degraded. he felt as if he’d cum at any second, the way the silicone toy felt inside him was more than exhilarating and your occasionally words only added to that addicing feeling. nimble fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, hard and dripping precum, preparing itself for its third orgasm. you finished him off with just a few strokes, his small form twitching with overstimulation. you slowly came to a stop and cupped his red face with your hands.

“what am i ever going to do with you, baby?”

[nctsworld]

two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k 

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection  GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff  WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap! 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.    

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.  

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.  

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.  

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:  

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”  

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.  

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.  

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.  

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?  

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...  

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.  

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.  

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.  

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.  

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.  

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.  

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”  

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.  

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...  

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.  

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.  

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”  

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.  

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.  

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.  

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.    

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.  

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone  off to one side.  

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?  

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.  

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.  

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.  

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.  

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.  

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.  

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.  

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.” 

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.  

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.  

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.  

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.  

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.    

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.  

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.  

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.  

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.  

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.    

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.  

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.  

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.  

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.  

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.  

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.    

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.  

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.  

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.  

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.  

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.  

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.  

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.  

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.  

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.  

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.  

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly. 

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.  

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.  

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—  

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.  

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.  

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.  

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.  

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.  

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”    

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.  

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

[ptergwen]

this is Totally Not Me projecting alfjskfn but what about a love day blurb where u’ve never had a good valentines day (even the whole month makes u feel Bleh) and peter’s like. ur first boyfriend and u tell him how u just feel so down when it comes to this holiday so he does his best to cheer u up <3 (sorry if this is too much aldjskfndksk)

warnings: a teeny tiny bit of angst

a/n: noooo because we’re in this together valentine’s has never been my thing either :/ i hope this helps though <3

-

you’re over at peter’s, doodling in a notebook while he catches up on some homework. you hang upside down off his bed and swing your legs back and forth as you sketch. music plays softly from your phone, and you and peter take turns choosing. you love your quiet nights like this.

there’s no where else you’d rather be.

“hey, babe?” peter hums, spinning around in his desk chair. “super random, but what’s your chocolate preference? milk or dark?” he twirls his pencil between his fingers with a small smile. “uh, both,” you nonchalantly reply. you’re shading in a cloud you drew. “why do you ask?” you wonder. “no reason,” peter taps the eraser against his desk.

he’s fidgety, which is one of the tell tale signs something is up with him.

“on a totally unrelated note, daises are your favorite flower…” peter squints an eye. “right?” you’re starting to put the pieces together. you frown, glancing up at him from your notebook. “this game of twenty questions wouldn’t have anything to do with valentine’s day, would it?” you check.

“pfft, what? no way,” peter lies. “just curious. you know me.” you let out a breath of relief, continuing your sketch. “thank god, because i can’t stand that godforsaken day of love,” you admit.

peter’s face falls.

“you can’t?” he echoes, setting down his pencil. “why not?” you laugh bitterly to yourself. “‘cuz it reminds me of anything but that.”

your words are followed by a beat of silence. you chew the inside of your cheek, peter patiently waiting for you to elaborate.

“i, um, don’t have the best memories attached to it,” you begin. “i’ve never really…” you trail off, your throat becoming tight.

peter stands from his chair and comes over to the bed. he lays down beside you, turning on his side so he can look at you. sighing, you place your notebook face down on your chest. you peer up at him.

“valentine’s day makes me feel lonely,” you go on. “even though i have you this year, i’m used to spending it by myself. it’s just… hard for me.”

you scoot closer to peter, now rolling onto your side. peter gazes at you attentively.

“i’m new to this whole relationship thing, and i don’t wanna mess it up. i like us the way we are,” you manage a smile, although it doesn’t meet your eyes. “is that okay? if we skip it?”

“of course, sweetheart. we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” peter reassures you. “i understand how you feel. i like us, too.”

he presses his forehead to yours, kissing the tip of your nose. your eyes flick down to his lips, then back up to his own eyes.

“besides, we could shove our faces full of chocolate any day. not just on valentine’s,” peter grins. “actually, that’s the one part of it i don’t mind partaking in,” you laugh out.

peter plants another loving kiss on your nose, you winding your arms around his neck.

“i’m glad you told me, y/n,” he speaks lowly. “everything’s gonna be okay, okay? we’ll get through it,” he promises. you rub your nose against his, tickling both of you. “i know we will.”

[ask4mycashapp]

You write creepypasta right? Can i request for a eyeless jack hc and maybe put a SO there too 😊

THIS IS MY FIRST CREEPYPASTA REQ IM SO HAPPY!!! i didnt rlly kno what kind of hcs u wanted so these r just what came to my mind. here r ur hcs tho 🤲🏼 they might be a lil biased bc i love ej 🫶🏼🫶🏼

eyeless jack hcs!!

• ej loves you. he really does, but for the love of slenderman PLEASE stop taking off his mask.

• jack doesnt like how he looks without his mask. his appearance is a constant reminder of his inhumanity.

• hes also afraid of you realizing hes a disgusting monster, afraid of you being scared of him.

• you though, you think he looks so cool.

• like have you ever seen someone with gray skin, razor sharp teeth and black drippy eyes? no? thats what i thought.

• youve never been one to be scared of really anything so you didnt understand his fears. he knows of your fearlessness, but his concerns still stood.

• soo you didnt know how to communicate to him that you love him, mask on or off.

• your plan was just to take his mask off and give him a kiss. easy, simple, straight to the point. itll probably make him mad though...

• but your willing to take that risk! you love ej so ej should love ej too! atleast thats your thought process.

• jack doesnt agree though. he appreciates your sentiment but he still doesnt understand your love for his, in his opinion, monstrous excuse for a face.

• but that doesnt stop you from putting your plan into motion.

• it was a regular day and ej just returned from a quick mission. he reports to slender then goes to his room. in his room he finds you, spinning in his desk chair at extreme speeds.

• once you see him you immediately get up to give him a hug. ej expects this seeing as its pretty routine, but this time you do something very very different.

• as jack reaches to hug you, you go to hug him too, except your hand goes up to his face and you grab his mask right off his face.

• your other hand moves to cup his face and pull it toward you, quickly before he has a chance to get mad, you plant a kiss on his lips.

• jacks... stunned. what the hell just happened? and why can he feel the air hitting his face? wheres his mask? did you just kiss him???????

• by the time ej comes back to reality your just hugging him face burried in his chest.

• i was gonna say shoulder but apparently ejs 6'2... its a wonder how you even reached his face, unless your just tall like that 🤷‍♀️.

• ejs not mad? he himself doesnt know what hes feeling but its not anger.

• when its quiet for a while you start apologizing, going on a nervous ramble about how you loved his face and devised this whole plan to try to show him that, and more. poor you, you were just worried you angered him.

• surprisingly though he pulls you in for another kiss, and another, and another. he continues until your left breathless, he himself could do this all day.

• you earn a razor sharp toothed smile from your blushy boyfriend for your efforts, "y/n i appreciate your sentiments, you know? you dont have to apologize, ill try to take my mask off more around you if you love my face that much <3."

• i also hc that jack speaks pretty proper because hes a doctor, and all the doctors ive met r mad proper nd polite so 🤷‍♀️🥲

• his response makes you red in the face and maybe its because hes looking straight at you with out his mask. oozing eyes meeting yours.

• with his grin still on his face jack goes to kiss you again. i told you he could do this all day.

i hope you liked this! i just wrote whatever i thought about since you didnt specify <3.

masterpost

[kuroosdarling]

kuroo and the 5 love languages:

1. acts of service.

def his top way to express his love. he likes doing things for you that would make your life even the tiniest bit easier. don’t feel like cleaning the kitchen today? he’s got you. don’t wanna get up and refill your water? he’s way ahead of you. i see him as a caregiver, mostly based off of how he treats those around him. he’s always teaching someone something, making sure they eat, etc etc. he’s ready to do anything for you at a moments notice just so he can see a smile on your face and feel relaxed.

2. words of affirmation.

this man always knows what to say to make someone feel better. i don’t think it’s his top way to express his love because he honestly does this for most people, even strangers. ofc he will step it up for someone he loves but he just has the gift of gab. he will tease you relentlessly but it’s out of love, he swears. if you’re having a bad day where you can’t take the teasing, he will instead fill your mind with praises and affectionate words. he’ll go on and on with how much you mean to him, the reasons he loves you, you name it !!!

3. gift giving.

i feel like kuroo is really good at getting you the perfect gift but he doesn’t swamp you with them. every once in awhile he’ll get you flowers or he saw something that reminded him of you so he bought it. but around ur bday, christmas and valentine’s day?? OH MYYY. he really goes all out. he just wants to spoil you sm.

4. quality time.

kuroo def loves to be around you as much as possible but he also understands the importance of having some time apart. he knows you both have friends/family to see, hobbies to do, and mundane things like go to work/school. BUT when you guys have nothing to do?? he is so eager to spend his time around you. he loves nothing more than curling up on the couch and watching whatever show you want. he’ll def put up a fight for the remote but is happy to watch whatever you want. he just wants to be difficult to get more attention :’)

5. physical touch.

i am not saying that kuroo doesn’t express his love through physical touch, i just think he doesn’t crave it as much as others. (looking at u bokuto<3) BUT that being said, he can be a clingy baby. those lazy days when you guys have nothing to do? he wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms and plant kisses all over your cute lil face. you have to get up? okay, that’s fine, just expect him to follow you. he’ll hug you from behind or hold your hand. when he gets into this mood, you must provide all the snuggles and smooches. i don’t make the rules ok??

kuroo will def adjust how he expresses his love to you depending on YOUR love language though. if your top one is physical touch, he will make sure that’s how he expresses his love to you the most. he wants you to feel loved and cherished by him, always. these are just little ideas on how he would express each one. :) x

[kkodzvken]

take the dive - sugawara koushi x milf!reader

tags/warnings: smut, 18+ ONLY! slight dubcon, infidelity, post timeskip (suga teaches reader’s kids). overstimulation and slight dumbification, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public (in an empty classroom)

a/n: this is my piece for @ultimate-astridwriting’s milf fuckers collab, which you can find here!! thank you for hosting this astrid, and thank u to everyone in the server for ur love and support as i worked on this <33. title cred: take the dive by jonghyun

wc: 3.9k

Amidst a faculty full of stuffy old dinosaurs and suits, Sugawara Koushi is a breath of fresh air. He’s a welcome distraction, a pretty face to focus on at dull PTA meetings and assemblies. And you knew that you weren’t the only one making heart eyes at him. Everywhere that he went, heads turned, and moms whispered. At the bus stop, on the sidelines of sports matches, in the waiting rooms outside dance classes.

It was just that, though -- just whispers. Little knowing glances and nudged shoulders, dreamy sighs and brief sinful indulgences. Nothing more than a brief escape from the monotony of your everyday lives. You’d lose yourselves in the fantasy for a few seconds, and then pull your heads down from the clouds and plant your feet on solid ground. You enjoyed your gossip with the other moms, and then you returned home, to your husband and children. To your family.

You love them, of course. Your children are your world, and your husband is a good man. He’s a good man, and that’s what made it so hard. He treats you well, keeps his words soft and never once put his hands on you. 

He may be good, but, God, was he boring. You can’t remember the last time that he’d even kissed you, let alone fucked you. He came home later and later each night, too tired from work to do anything but silently scarf down his dinner and plant himself on the couch in front of the television. He dragged himself into bed hours after you did. He tried to be quiet, he really did, but he woke you up every single night with his stomping and shuffling. When you snuggled closer to him, he pushed you off. My back hurts too bad, he’d say, voice tinged with regret. Remind me to book another appointment with the chiropractor. 

It was always some excuse or another. 

So, really, you couldn’t blame yourself for your wandering eye. You weren’t going to act on it, of course -- you weren’t a cheater -- but the young teacher was something to occupy yourself with. A pretty face to fill your thoughts as you wrangled your horde of screaming kids from swim lessons to dance practice to art classes. A pretty, pretty body to imagine as you fucked yourself with your fingers, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to muffle your moans. You couldn’t help but imagine that it was him, lithe body leaning over yours. No complaints of aching backs and sore muscles, none of the complications that came with age. 

You’d leave your husband catatonic on the couch, put the kids to sleep, and then go dream of their hot teacher. You should’ve been more ashamed, but there was a part of you that loved the thrill of it. You flushed whenever you saw Mr. Sugawara the next morning, memories of your illicit thoughts filling your mind, but it also made your body feel electric. 

Of course there was a part of you that longed to throw caution to the wind and jump the young man, but your conscience was much stronger than your weak, lustful thoughts. You were happy with the way things were now. As dull as your husband was, and as insufferable as the children could sometimes be, you were happy. 

This was all you had ever wanted. A house in the suburbs, a husband with a well-paying job, three kids and a dog. You’re living the fucking dream. You’re happy, you tell yourself.

So why the fuck are you so unsatisfied?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

With a deep breath, you stare down the heavy glass doors at the school’s entrance. You want nothing more than to find the idiot architect who designed this building, and strangle him for installing pull doors. Your arms are already sore from carrying the giant tray of brownies from your car to the front of the school, and you worry that if you put the treats down to open the door, you wouldn’t be able to lift them up again. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you have two minutes left to reach the gym where the bake sale is being held. The PTA president is notorious for hating latecomers, and you weren’t in the mood to get your head bit off.

You’re debating doing some gymnastics and using your foot to grab the handle, when you notice footsteps approaching from behind you. You open your mouth to ask for help, but they beat you to it. “Let me get the door,” says their syrupy, melodic voice.

Their familiar voice.

Your body practically freezes as a strong arm reaches over your shoulder. Long fingers – fingers that you’ve fantasized about too many times to count – twist the handle and push it open easily. You don’t know how you didn’t notice him approaching sooner, but now that he’s here, your senses are in overdrive. The sweet scent of his cologne, the sound of his breath, the warmth of his body – it’s all too much, and it makes your knees feel weak.

“Mr. Sugawara,” you say, voice coming out much breathier than you intended. This must be some kind of Pavlovian response from all your fantasizing, because there is no reason for your stomach to be twisting right now. “Thank you.”

He grins sheepishly and steps away, and you hate the way that your body screams at you to lean into him. “It’s no problem. Is that for the bake sale? Here, let me carry it for you.”

You try to protest, but there’s really no point. His long fingers are already pushing yours to the sides, and you swear you’ve been electrified as he pulls the tray out of your hands. It’s a shame, really, that he’s wearing a button-down. The sleeves are rolled up to his forearms, at least, but you would’ve loved to see his biceps flex as he carried that tray…

What am I doing? You dig your nails into your palm to snap yourself out of your thoughts, but it’s hard to stay lucid when he’s so beautiful. He carries the brownies with ease, using just one arm to support their weight as the other holds the door open for you. It should make you upset, that you’re so weak in comparison to him, but the thought just makes you feel even more breathless. He’s so strong, so young, and so unlike your husband.

“Thank you,” you say again as he steps into the building behind you. You reach for the tray, but he waves you off.

“Nonsense. I’ll walk you to the gym.”

“Oh, really, you don’t have to—”

“I insist. Anything for my favorite mom.”

His…favorite? His words leave you too stupefied to protest any further, and he takes your silence as compliance. Your body automatically follows in his footsteps as he paces down the hallways.

He looks over at you and smiles comfortingly. It lights up his entire face, but does little to ease your turbulent thoughts.

Your mind is still fixated on his words as you step onto the squeaky wood flooring of the gymnasium. Sugawara calmly walks over to the PTA president, who looks like she’s about to rip her hair out. She’s surrounded by a gaggle of other moms, all jabbering away with concern painted across their faces.

“Is something wrong, ladies?” he asks. His voice snaps them all out of their conversation, and their eyes widen as they take him in.

“Yes,” says the PTA president scornfully. “We were supposed to have the brownies here already! The sale starts in ten minutes, and if this keeps up, I won’t have enough time to inventory everything and make it presentable, and –”

“I have the brownies,” you cut in, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

She blanches, and looks from you to the tray in Sugawara’s arms. An oh is all she can muster before grabbing the brownies and rushing off.

“Is everything okay?” one of the other moms asks, her voice laced with fake sweetness. “Oh, and you look so tired, dear. If you couldn’t manage your part, you should’ve just said so!”

“It would’ve been no trouble,” another woman says. “I’d have had no trouble whipping up a tray for you! Everyone always does love my baking.”

You grit your teeth and resist the urge to snap at them. It’s always like this – the other moms seem so in tune with their lives of domestic bliss, playing games of politics and constantly competing to be the best. Try as you might, you just can’t satisfy yourself with a life like theirs.

The material of Sugawara’s shirt brushes against you, and you start. He doesn’t pull away as you flinch, instead gently resting his hand on the small of your back. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I steal her away? Mrs. (L/N), I have your son’s science fair project sitting in my classroom. He keeps forgetting to bring it home. Would you like to go collect it now?”

You nod, relieved at the excuse to escape these women and their sickening artificial sweetness. Sugawara gently guides you with the hand on your back. You can’t help but internally smirk at the thinly-veiled jealousy on the faces of the other mothers.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.  

“This is why you’re my favorite,” Sugawara says, once you’re safely out of earshot. “All these PTA moms are so fake. But you’re not like that, are you?”

You nod, still a bit convinced that this is all a dream. He doesn’t remove his hand from your back as you walk down the hallways, and only pulls away when you reach the door to his classroom. He fishes through his pocket and pulls out a ring of keys, before insert one into the knob and pushing the door open. He gestures for you to enter first, and so you do, blinking at the harsh sudden brightness of the automatic lights.

You awkwardly glance around the room. You’ve been here plenty of times before, but that was all during the daytime, when it was packed full of energetic children. It feels…strange, to be alone in a classroom as an adult. Or, well, alone, except for the stupidly attractive teacher that you’ve been lusting over.

“Where’s the project?” you ask, trying to diffuse some of the tension building in your stomach. “I should head home soon.”

Sugawara leans his back against the door and cocks his head. “You know, I know what you say about me.”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb.” His eyes rove across your body, lingering on your chest for far longer than they should. “I’m not deaf, you know. I hear all the things you say about me. You’re just like all the other moms.” He pushes off the door, stalking closer to you. You instinctively take a step back. “Only difference is, you might actually have the guts to do something about it.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, so hard that you think your ribs might bruise. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Sugawara. I-”

You take another step back, and another, and suddenly your back collides with concrete. Your body jolts, and you yelp at the sudden pain.

Sugawara leans closer. One of his hands braces against the board behind your head, and the other one comes up to cradle your face. His long fingers hook under your chin and press, forcing you to tilt your head up and meet his gaze. His thumb brushes against your lip, and you can’t deny how the sensation makes your body feel like jelly.

Every rational thought in your mind is screaming at you to run, to leave, to get away from him and go back to your husband, but God, it’s been so long since you’ve felt like this. It’s been so long since someone’s made your heart race and your breaths quicken, since someone’s made you blush like a schoolgirl over a simple touch.

“What was that you said?” he asks, his voice dripping with honey. “You don’t know what I’m talking about?”

You swallow and bite the inside of your cheek. The pain does nothing to clear the fog inside your mind. “I-I don’t, I-”

“You do,” he interrupts, his thumb still toying with your lip. “You’re so fucking obvious. I bet you’re wet already, aren’t you?”

“Mr. Sugawara!” His lewd words make you gasp, but more than anything, you hate the fact that he’s right. Your body has a mind of its own, and it wants nothing more than to wrap your lips around his thumb and pull him closer. It wants to feel his arms wrapped around you, feel his body towering over you.

But you can’t. As much as you want to, you can’t, because you have a husband at home who’s waiting for you. Sure, he isn’t home right now, because he’s putting in extra hours at the office. And sure, he hasn’t touched you or made you feel desired in weeks. Hell, you haven’t had a genuine conversation in weeks. But he’s still your husband! You try and remind yourself of that. You roll the thought around in your head, hoping that it’ll push your thoughts of Sugawara away.

But the young teacher is persistent, and there’s a glimmer in his eye that makes your chest tighten. “Call me Koushi, princess.”

“Don’t call me princess –”

“What, you’re going to pretend that it didn’t make you wetter? Going to pretend that you aren’t clenching your thighs together right now?” He leans in even closer, so that his breath brushes against your ear as he whispers. “Your body doesn’t lie, baby.”

A whine slips past your lips at his words, and then you gasp, mortified with yourself. But the grin that covers his face makes your transgression worth it, because God, he’s handsome. His hand squeezes your chin even tighter, and then trails down to your neck. Your breath catches in your chest. You’re hyperaware of his every movement, of his fingers trailing across your skin, his touch feather-light. It leaves you aching for more.

You instinctively whine again, and he lets out a noise of surprised delight. “Whining like this, and you’re still denying that you want me? What’s got you so embarrassed?”

“I have a husband,” you hiss – or, at least, you try to hiss. It comes out more like a whimper than anything else.

Sugawara looks at you for a beat – and then throws his head back and laughs. It catches you off guard, and you furrow your brow. “Why the fuck are you laughing?”

He collects himself, but his eyes are still gleaming when he looks back at you. “Sure, you have a husband. But that doesn’t stop you from thinking about me, does it? Tell me, when’s the last time that your husband took care of you? When’s the last time that he touched you, or fucked you, or made you feel good?”

“Mr. Sugawara, this is inappropriate–”

“Stop lying to yourself.” His voice suddenly drops, his stare forceful and deadly serious. “Say the word, and I’ll go. We can pretend this never happened. But anyone with eyes can tell that you’re unsatisfied.”

“I…I don’t…” Your thoughts feel like a wave, building higher and higher. They bounce around your head, reverberating against your skull, so loud that you can’t even think.

“Why are you settling?”

“Mr. Sugawara, please, I–”

“Why are you settling, when you know you want more?”

The wave crests.

You don’t know who moves first, but somehow, your fingers are tangled in his hair, and his lips are slotted against yours. It’s not soft, or sweet – it’s a mess of teeth and tongues and feverish breaths. His hands are everywhere. They trail over your skin, explore the curves of your chest and your stomach, grip tightly at your waist to pull you closer.

“Mr. Sugawara,” you pant against his lips. Your lungs scream for oxygen, but you can’t bear to drag yourself away from him for even a second. He kisses so well. It may be rushed, and messy, but there’s so much hunger behind his actions that it makes your head spin. It’s like his lips are a live wire, and every second that they touch yours, they send a thousand volts of electricity arcing through your body.

“Koushi,” he breathes. “Call me Koushi, please.” You nod, and then hurriedly undo the buttons of his shirt, popping a few off in the process. Neither of you care. His hands finally dip beneath the hem of your dress, and he wastes no time in unceremoniously tugging it off your body.

Your hands instinctively go to cover yourself. Age and childbirth have changed your body, and you know that Mr. Sugawara – no, Koushi – is probably used to beautiful young women. You still don’t understand why his eye landed on you. He surely has dozens of girls his age fawning over him, with flat stomachs and perky tits. Why you?

He grips your wrists and pries your hands away from your body. “Don’t do that,” he says, so gentle in contrast to the fire from just moments ago. “Don’t cover yourself up. You’re beautiful.”

Oh.

You can’t remember the last time that someone called you beautiful. You can’t remember the last time that you felt beautiful.

But right now, with Koushi staring at you, eyes blown out with lust… you feel it.

He sinks onto his knees, lips already pressing little kisses against your hips and upper thighs. You try and protest – really, Koushi, you don’t have to – but he shushes you instantly. He hooks one of your thighs over his shoulder and dives in without hesitation. Even through the fabric of your panties, you’re in fucking heaven. His tongue laves against your clit, focusing so much attention onto the swollen bead that you can’t help but let out a moan.

You slap your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. You’re in an elementary school, for God’s sake. The bake sale is at the other side of the large building, but you’re terrified of someone walking past and catching you. Guilt swirls around your heart, but it’s quick to dissipate when Koushi tugs your panties off and throws them over his shoulder. He buries himself into your cunt again, and it’s even better without the barrier. The coil in your stomach is tightening embarrassingly fast, but you can’t seem to find it in yourself to care. His tongue laps at your folds, slurping lewdly.

The pleasure is overwhelming. Your body moves of its own accord. Your hips grind against Koushi’s face, and he moans right into your cunt. His lips move up to your clit again, alternating between licking and sucking. You’re so focused on his mouth that you barely notice his fingers, so long and pretty, collecting your wetness.

You do notice when he fucks two of those pretty fingers into you. He immediately starts scissoring his fingers to stretch you out, before hooking them against that spot inside of you that makes your head spin. Your entire body is shaking with euphoria, so much that you can’t handle it.

“Close,” you cry out, trying to keep yourself upright. “Close, close, please, don’t stop!”

He moans into you again when you tug at his hair. It’s the push that you need to finally fall over the edge. You bite into your palm to keep from screaming as you gush all over him, chest heaving and eyes tearing up.

He keeps curling his fingers, keeps lapping at your clit, until you tug on his hair and cry that the overstimulation is too much. As he lets your leg down and stands up, he makes a show of licking your cum off his fingers, slurping on them loudly. It would make you embarrassed, but you’re too focused on his other hand as it dips down to his belt. The muscles of his stomach flex as he undoes the buckle. You take the opportunity to rake your eyes over his toned torso. He seems so slender when he’s dressed, but his shoulders are surprisingly broad.

He looks up at you with a little smirk. “Caught you staring,” he teases. You blush as he pulls his pants and boxers down in one go, freeing his cock. It’s already hard, and so pretty, just like him. His tip is red and dripping with precum. You want so badly to get a taste, but Koushi has other plans. He spins you by your shoulders, and then presses at the small of your back to make you lay across his desk.

You groan when you feel him slap his cock against your ass a few times, before running it through your folds to collect your wetness. “Please,” you gasp. “No teasing, please.”

“Just came, and you’re already needy?” he chuckles. “That husband of yours must really not be satisfying you.”

You’re spared from having to think of a retort by him sinking into you. A cry leaves your lips, but it’s too good for you to even care about the sound. He feels like heaven as he sinks into you. His cock stretches you out deliciously.

You’re already feeling delirious as he starts to shallowly thrust and work his way in. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you. “So – fuck…”

You can’t do anything but moan and scratch at the table as he starts to fuck into you in earnest. His cock is perfectly curved to hit your spot every time, and soon you’re reduced to a mess underneath him. His balls slap against your ass with every thrust. It hurts, it’s all too much, but it’s so fucking good. You don’t think you’ve ever felt pleasure like this – mind numbing and all consuming, so powerful that it makes your eyes roll back.

“Fuck,” he groans again, bending down so that he can loom over you and leave little bites all over your back and shoulders. “Not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that, shit!”

“Faster, please,” you beg, and he obliges. He sets an absolutely brutal pace, somehow managing to fuck you hard, fast, and at the perfect angle all at once. Moans and cries spill freely out of your open mouth. When he reaches forward to toy with your clit, it’s all too much, and it sends you over the edge again. Your body practically spasms as he fucks you through your second orgasm. He shows you no mercy, gives you no time to come down. You don’t know if you’re coming again, or if you just never stopped. Your mind is hazy with pleasure and overstimulation.

You’re a twitching mess by the time that he pulls out, but you still whine at the loss. You’re far too fucked out to turn around and look at him, but in the corner of your consciousness, you can hear him panting and stroking himself furiously. His moans are so beautiful. Within a few short seconds, he’s coming all over your ass, painting your pretty skin white with his seed.

You don’t know how long you’re laying there before he taps your cheek to get your attention. “C’mon now,” he says, a tired smile on his face. “Let’s get you cleaned up. We wouldn’t want your husband finding out, would we?”

[ayyezhongli]

horny hungry dom zhongli x innocent slutty childe

where zhongli is horny asf and childe has this lusty energy around him which makes it hard for zhongli to concentrate bc he just wants to ravage and fuck childe using him as a fucktoy

ok so its late in the day n zhongli jus came back from a mission. he has paper work he needs to finish but forst he needs to shower bc he’s sweating like crazy.

so he says “good work today”

trying to contain himself with all this lust and sexual desire that was pouring out of childe. childe smiled saying.

“yeah thx, you too”

n zhongli walked over to take a shower. the lust was too strong. like a tornado. if he stood there any second longer he would’ve for sure fucked childe stupid right there. he turned on the shower water to hot and stripped revealing his member hard asf.

“fuck not again.”

so now zhongli steps in the shower, cheeks tinted pink and one of his hands against the tile wall.

“i’ll just get it over with now”

with his free hand wrapped around his dick, he starts pumping himself as images of childe flash in his brain. childe in a maid outfit. childe with a lewd face. childe moaning….all he could think about were these abstract images and dirty scenarios about childe he made up in his head mumbling childes name under his breath.

“Fuck! fuck! fuck!”

so zhongli cums shooting his load all over the tile wall panting. after a few minutes of washing himself he turns off the water and wraps a towel around his waist and gets out. he puts on a fresh pair of boxers and has the towel over his shoulders. when he looks up to his surprise, he sees childe standing in front of him with a bright red face.

“S-sensei!”

“how long have you been here?”

“w-well i went to go shower bc i thought you were done b-b-but….”

zhongli stares childe down biting his lip. childe could see the hungry look in zhonglis eyes. he looked like a beast who captured his pret and ready to devour it any second. n he suddenly found himself backing up as zhongli approached him until he was pressed up against a wall kabedoned.

He’s gonna eat me alive!!

“u saw enough.”

zhongli couldnt hold back anymore. he jus couldn’t. he has been for so long and too long. and with the way how childe was acting, his flushed face. He REALLY couldnt.

“S-s-sensei?!”

childe was squirming around trying to escape and oh that turned him on so much. watching childe squirm underneath him. and so he fiercely attacked childes neck marking and claiming every spot he can which in response to this action childe gripped his shoulders letting out tiny little pants and moans right into zhonglis ear.

“Sensei p-p-pls stop”

childe begged while zhongli ignored him. childes begging only made him harder. there was no going back now. zhongli slid his hands up childes shirt mouth still attached onto childes neck. he went up pinching his nipples causing a loud moan to escape his mouth.

“F-Fuck Sensei!!”

he moved up to nibble on his ear and reached his hand down into his pants to palm him.

“you’re already so hard for me childe….”

“S-s-sensei….”

childe moaned into his ear. childe had the lewd face that zhongli always dreamed of. It turned him on so much he almost came.

“D-d-dont to- Ahh~!!”

it was too late, zhongli had a tight grip around his dick and started pumping him fast. childe came within seconds all over zhonglis hand and in his pants. zhongli rid childe of his pants and started rubbing against him through his boxers.

“Mmmnn S-sensei dont stop ahh~”

“i never planned too”

He’s even hotter than i imagined

“childe….”

“w-w-what.”

“kiss me.”

n so childe did. wrapping his arms around zhonglis neck kissing him passionately. he wanted to have all of childe for himself. have him all to his self. violate and claim every orifice or non orifice of his body. all of it should n would belong to him by the time he’s done. pulling away breathless a string of drool attached from the mouth he went back in and childe rubbed back harder and needier than before.

“S-sensei….i want you….”

zhongli felt himself blush but kept a calm composure.

“prostrate yourself in front of me and maybe i’ll consider it.”

childe did so all shame going down the drain. n zhonglis view was nothing short from perfect. it was beautiful. seeing childe’s pink innocent little hole with his ass high up in the air. he couldn’t hold back. it was so plump, so untouched, so round, so innocent looking he wanted to destroy it. and so he bit down marking and claiming what belongs to him which made childe yelp. with a loud smack childe came as a red hand print formed on his ass.

“you came just from that? what a slutty little masochist”

childe quivered while zhongli spanked him a few more times. he could feel his legs going weak until they finally decided gave out and he dropped to the floor unable to hold himself up any longer.

“i’m not finished with u yet. get back up.”

childe struggled to follow his directions but eventually did wobbling.

“good little slut.”

zhongli bent over and planted a gentle kiss on his head.

“turn around and suck”

zhongli said pulling down his boxers revealing his hard member. childe just stared. that wouldn’t be able to fit inside him!! how was he gonna take all that it!!

“stop gawking at it n suck it!”

childe gulped and started licking his shaft sucking on the balls from time to time. he slowly lowered himself down gagging at every inch. he wanted to see zhonglis reaction through it all so he maintained eye contact as he watched zhonglis face flush and his hand covering his mouth. it was hot ngl and childe could feel himself becoming harder. after a few zhongli came and he could feel the slimy liquid go down his throat and drip down the side of his mouth. he pulled away but before he could fully zhongli held him down.

“keep going.”

childe did the best he could. and he could feel zhongli’s throbbing cock in his mouth.

“stick out ur tongue”

zhongli said panting slightly

“Fuck!”

and he came all over his face and getting sum on his tongue. catching his breath he looked down at childe to see such a slutty cum covered face panting with his tongue sticking out and tears forming from the side of his eyes.

“you look so hot covered in my cum, such a slutty whore all for me~….”

zhongli put his fingers in childe’s mouth.

“suck and get them nice and lubricated.”

childe did so until zhongli pulled them out.

“prostrate yourself for me again.”

and when he did, zhongli shoved his fingers inside causing childe to moan in pain, crying.

“S-s-sensei it hurts…”

“it wont for long just hang in there. this isnt even the part that hurts the most.”

zhonglis fingers wiggled around inside childe

“god ur squeezing my fingers so tightly”

his fingers searched for that one g spot.

“where is it now….”

zhongli said still looking until childe arched his back and let out a loud moan drool dripping down the side of his mouth.

“found it.”

what was he feeling? what was this immense amount of pleasure? has he have no shame? it all felt too good childe couldn’t think straight. as a puddle of drool formed from the side of his mouth n on the floor zhongli pulled out and aligned himself.

“woah woah wait sensei thats not all gonna f- AHH SHIT!!”

but before childe could finish zhongli pushed himself inside him. all of him. and childe choked on his own spit, eyes widening and crying clawing at the floor to escape as zhongli thrusted into him fast and rough showing no mercy.

“Sensei it hurts! It hurts! It hurts so much!”

childe cried out clawing and scraping at the floor.as much as he tried to escape zhonglis grip on his hips was too tight.

“shhh its okay….it’ll feel better soon.”

and like zhongli said, the pain started fading away n all he could feel was pleasure. all he could think abt was zhongli. zhonglis dick deep inside him. destroying him. ruining him. claiming him.

“Zh-zh-zhongli~!!”

childe moaned out.

“fuck that was hot. moan out my name again. moan the name of the person who’s fucking u stupid. claiming you for themselves.”

zhonglis pace quickened and by now he was slamming into childe ruining him like he always got off too.

“ZHONGLI FUCK!! I’M GONNA-”

and with that childe came dropping to the floor.

“this isnt over yet childe, not even close~….”

zhongli flipped him around placing each of his legs on his shoulder and pounded into him harder n faster than childe could ever imagine.

“I’m gonna cum again…”

“n im gonna cum too….”

giving a few more thrusts zhongli came inside him and childe came again on his chest cum dripping out of him and panting heavily and twitching.

“ur still so hard for me.”

zhongli palmed the twitching childe and he came once more all over zhonglis hand. zhongli lifted his hand up to childes mouth.

“lick it clean”

hesitating, childe sucked his hand clean tasting himself. the bittersweet slimy consistency. he couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose.

“good boy.”

zhongli said picking childe up and carrying him bridal style.

“lets take a shower shall we?”

“t-t-together?”

“mhmm.”

and so they stepped into the shower to bathe but it turned out to be another round. the end :)

(but guess what- i wrote an alt ending so enjoy 😈)

ALT ENDING:

“good boy.”

zhongli said picking childe up and carrying him bridal style. when zhongli raised his head he could see diluc standing in there eyes widen is shock to speechless to say anything. Childe looked at diluc face flushed

“DILUC??!!!? HOW LONG HAVE U BEEN THERE?!”

diluc was too speechless he couldn’t say anything.

“i’m just gonna-”

diluc said turning around.

“dont tell anyone diluc”

“i never planned too.”

diluc said walking out.

“Besides…i dont wanna risk the chance of me n kaeya getting out.”

(ok now thats the alt ending. hope you enjoyed the story. it’s pretty rushed but don’t mind that)

[cinnaminyoons]

( LATE-NIGHT LOVERS. )

ミ☆ i just wonder what you’re dreaming of / when you sleep and smile so comfortable

⤷ PAIRING bangtan x m!reader

⤷ WORD COUNT 4.7k 

⤷ REQUESTED 

 heyy can u write a 0t7 (each individual member or poly as ur wish) one shot based on "heat waves" by glass animals

☆  — SEOKJIN

evening sets over the city as a hazy cloud of congested traffic and thin-wearing frustration. the sky is a steady blue and grey, only fading into a pale purple line over the horizon. there hasn’t been an evening you can remember when the city isn’t cloaked and huddled in its own version of comfort, the dying summer air thick and humid.

“hey, you.”

you lean back onto your palms, glancing over your shoulder. you grin as seokjin takes a seat next to you, legs kicking slowly over the edge of the rooftop. “hey, you.”

“what, no ‘good evening, hyung’?” he puts on a deep, pompous voice, raising a single finger as if he’s lecturing you. “’oh, favourite hyung, how was your day? best hyung, can i give you a kiss?’”

you scoff and grin. “i do not talk like that.”

“yes, you do. ah,” he clicks his tongue, suppressing a smile, “you were much cuter when you were small.”

“you’re two years older, grandpa,” you nudge his shoulder. in retaliation, he pushes you with his hands, nearly tipping you back onto the chilly concrete. “whoa, whoa, no need to get violent! i say that with love.”

he kicks your exposed ankle with his white converse-clad foot. it’s well-worn and the logo is fading, but still pristine and dirt-free. “yn, every time i see you, i feel an inclination towards immediate violence. why?”

you shrug and grin wider, leaning over and resting your chin on his shoulder. “dunno. maybe you’re just upset you’re no longer the most handsome person in the room.”

you barely dodge his flying hands, laughing, and manage to catch his wrists before he can do any real damage. you switch both of them into one of your hands and wrap your other arm around his waist, pulling him in regardless of his protests.

burying your face in his neck, you press your lips to the dip between his earlobe and his jawline and feel him shake with his adorable laughter. he tries squirming away. “yn! stop! you know i’m ticklish there.”

“oh? really?” you plant a big kiss on the soft skin and feel him jump, his shoulders raising in defence as he yelps. a big smile is plastered on his gorgeous face, and you smile at his joy. 

why seokjin chose you, of all people, is a mystery – you don’t regret it, no, but you do wonder. you’ve been bothering him his entire life, hanging on like a koala, but he never seems to mind. even when you were small and your parents scolded you for being annoying, seokjin was the first person to come to your aid, always with that sweet smile and gentle air. 

“yn, sto-op!” his smile is the brightest thing in this city, white like the stars blinking awake in the darkening sky. 

his laughter makes your heart swell in your chest. he’s so beautiful, all twinkling brown eyes and broad, honest smiles. it makes you ache. you’ve never wanted anything more than his happiness, his attention, his love. 

“baby, i love you,” you murmur, drawing him in so that he’s tucked between your cheek and your chest. he shifts closer until your thighs touch, sighing contentedly. he still giggles every so often with the lingering feeling of fluttering kisses.

he laughs softly, taking one of your hands and cupping it in both of his. he squeezes it, running the soft pad of his thumb over the smooth back of your palm and across the knuckles. he shifts to gaze at you. “i love you too.”

“forever and ever?” you ask, and the words echo in his memories.

he leans forward, staring out across the quiet, drowsy city, tiny cars like shining ants crawling about down below. he nods, smiling gently. “forever and ever.”

☆  — YOONGI

yoongi’s room is pitch-black, smearing into a single shadow blending chair and bed and human into one edgeless blanket of apparent nothingness. 

his thick curtains bock out most of the light from the outside world and everything from its street lamps to illuminated rows of houses is barred entry. it’s so dark inside his bedroom that even with the complete, enveloping darkness, his single large window is rimmed in a barely-discernible, pale grey-blue glow. 

you bury your face in the delicate curve of his neck and shoulder. his skin is bare and radiates heat like a radiator, and it’s not the most comfortable to be so close when both of you are suffering in the sweltering summer night. 

the intimacy of feeling him breathe beneath your palms with every rise and fall of his chest makes up for it. 

it’s late. the hands of the retro-red clock on his messy desk creep into the morning. you close your eyes.

in a few hours, you’ll have to wake up and silence the screeching bells atop the clock, but for now, you enjoy the utter silence of everything except for the tv and your shared breaths, in time with each other as if you are one. 

yoongi leans back against your chest, skin rubbing in the heat. air escapes his lungs in one long sigh and his warm hands rest on top of yours around his middle. 

colours and blurred shapes waver and merge over the smooth skin of his stomach, reflections of the animated movie he put on. you haven’t watched it in years – not since you were children, unsatisfied with any other movie than this. 

he presses his face into your neck and you feel his eyelashes flitter against your skin, eyes moving beneath his eyelids. positioned like this, back-to-chest and faces pressed into the other’s throats, is like a strange yin and yang pattern.

he moves first and you follow him, as natural as breathing, tilting your faces away from each other so that you can kiss. it’s slow, and lazy, and your lips move together as if they’re made to. 

the fan, a few metres away and submerged in shadow, cuts through the air silently. it makes locks of yoongi’s hair flick at your cheeks and you smile, trying not to laugh – he’ll act annoyed if you do, making funny faces and calling you childish.

when you part, soft lips sticking at the corners, his eyes open first. he gazes intently at you with endless dark eyes. an irregular reflection of pink and blue flickers over his features, further softening the curves of his doll-like face. 

“all i think about is you,” you whisper, meeting his stare unflinchingly. “it never stops.”

the shadows under his chin are blue. deep, stormy, sea blue – the type that crashes against looming black cliff faces of rock and ash, foaming white hands reaching for the sky.

yoongi speaks not a word, as if he didn’t hear. but he always hears you. he pulls you in for another kiss – soft, sweet. it says for him all the things he’s too afraid to say.

☆  — HOSEOK

“we should go to the beach,” hoseok declares, barging into your bedroom without any regard for anything. 

you glance up at the sound of his voice. your door swings dizzily on its hinges from his rapid entrance. “the where? it’s nearly eight.”

“all the better for us,” he says, grinning broadly. he turns and pulls one of your jackets off the hook near the door. “get your butt up, we’re going to the beach!”

the golden stretch of sand snakes across the edge of everything. the flat orange horizon is dotted with silhouetted ships and tiny boats, black cut-outs popped out from the warm sky. it looks like a piece of art, a vivid painting by monet, with blue and yellow clouds streaked across the pale heavens with oil paints.

“see?” hoseok throws a hand out in a wide gesture at the empty beach. “it’s all ours to enjoy, sweets.”

sweets, he calls you, for the unfortunate incident of your initial meeting involving ice cream, distractions, and an abrupt corner. he thinks it’s funny, but he hadn’t been the one who had one less item of clothing to wear that day.

still, as embarrassing as it had been, your relationship bloomed from it. hoseok’s overwhelming remorse, plus his intermittent bouts of giggles, had charmed you. neither of you are quite sure how, and hoseok teases you for it, but you are both thankful that you had been given the chance for someone to fill your hearts.

you kiss his temple, brushing his curls away from his face with a small smile. sliding your fingers down his arm, you catch his hand in yours and grasp it tightly. hoseok laughs and swings it between your bodies in big, showy arcs, a light skip to his step.

“come on, sweets. let’s find a place to sit and watch the sky.”

he pulls you along, hands entwined tightly. you’ve been holding his hand for most of the walk down to the beach, and the silver rings decorating his thin fingers are now warm to the touch.

hoseok chooses a seat on a sandy mound, green-brown spikes of plants erupting from the sand and waving about languidly in the wind. he pats the sand next to him and you sit, stretching your legs out with a soft sigh.

he’s far more dressed for the occasion than you are. he reclines on the yellow dune, easily slipping his feet out of some brown sandals and wriggling his toes into the sand. you pick shards of sun-bleached shells out of the grains and flick them away from him, ensuring that his skin remains smooth and unhurt.

his shirt – blue, and printed with small yellow pineapples –  is unbuttoned over a plain white tee. the loose sides flap in the breeze, like a lazy kite. his shorts are the same kind of beige as the sand, and it gives the illusion that he stops abruptly at the waist for some time and begins again at the knee. you smile at the silliness of it.

he shifts, one arm braced behind you. “penny for your thoughts?”

“no bribes needed. just thinking about how much i love you.” you take his mind off of it with a sudden kiss, leaning back. the movement invites hoseok to twist slightly to ensure he doesn’t part from you too early, and he does. 

his lips are soft, warm. he melts into it like honey.

reluctantly, he pulls away to suck in a deep breath of air, making you laugh. he follows, his distinct grin bright and weightless. he covers his mouth, unusually shy. 

you smile widely – you’re unable to stop it even if you wanted to. love surges in your chest. you lean towards him, pulling his hand down, and connect your lips together once more.

the air is thick with warmth and the lingering scent of someone’s savoury barbecue. with nothing but the sea and the last persistent gulls to keep both of you company, you can think of only him. only him, and his infectious, golden joy.

☆  — NAMJOON

it’s past midnight. the moon is perfectly round and full, and the night is so clear and cloudless that namjoon can count the number of craters that pock the pale, dusty surface. the tv flicks through silent advertisements for pepsi cola and various types of beer. celebrities with dust-white teeth brandish bottles sprayed with condensation at the camera, the light on their faces too harsh to match the backgrounds of evening vineyards and patios.

“aren’t you tired?”

namjoon cranes his neck to glance back at you, standing in the doorway between the small bedroom and smaller living room. “i’ll be there in ten. i have to finish this essay.”

you sigh behind him, big and exasperated. namjoon’s white laptop screen lights up his features, and you move forward to gaze at the side of his face. the white of his shirt turns blue at night.

“you said that half an hour ago. come on, joonie,” you coax, placing your hands on his shoulders and squeezing. “put it away. you’re stressed, and sleepy, and you’ve written five words since i last saw you. rest.”

the childish nickname brings memories to the front of his mind and a smile to his face. “i’m not tired.”

“yes, you are. otherwise, you need some really thick glasses to be squinting at something a foot away from your face.”

“i wrote more than five words,” he tries again.

your weight shifts forward, and when you speak again, your voice is nearer to his ear. “contemporary sources – blah, names, blah – cite the cause – see? five words. what is this even on? it’s incoherent.”

he huffs a laugh, closing his eyes. “thanks, yn.”

“you’re welcome.” you kiss his cheek. they warm, and he covers up his widening smile with a hand over his dimples. “now, are you ready to accept that you’re just human, like the rest of us, and that you cannot go any longer without sleep? the sun will be up in a few hours.”

namjoon reaches for his laptop. “i promise, last one, i just need to—”

“don’t make me carry you,” you threaten. clambering over the back of the couch with the gracelessness of a freshly-woken toddler, you refuse to let go of him and allow him the chance to grab his work. you slump against his back. “seriously, i’ll do it.”

he smiles, leaning back against the ‘v’ of your legs. your arms tighten around him, draped over his shoulders. “thought you were all worn out from practice. has your body spontaneously recovered in the four hours since you came back?”

“five hours,” you correct, glancing at the clock ticking away steadily on the wall. “and yes.”

“you’re in no state to carry anyone – go to bed. you still smell like grass.”

“and mud, i bet,” you sigh. you shake your head and rest your cheek against the crown of his dark hair. “stop stalling and come with me, then. i’ll make pancakes in the morning if you do.”

namjoon’s chest rumbles with his soft laughter. your muscles, still tingling and slightly numb, now tingle differently. warmly. 

the scent of clean rain and wet grass clings to you like a second skin you can’t shed no matter how hard you try, and as namjoon sighs and relaxes further into you, you find yourself rather hoping it won’t leave. the scent of the earth always calms him, whether that be the stinging salt of the sea or the peaceful greenness of a mountain hike.

you realise, abruptly, how much you love this. not his stubbornness when it comes to grinding himself down to the bone through work, but the softness of it. the affection. the fact that with every breath you share, the less tense his shoulders are, and the less he looks at his laptop.

“alright,” he sighs, a deep breath out. “let’s go to bed.”

finally, the kiss you press to his lips tells him: slow, and soothing, and sleepy. you take his hand. he doesn’t pull away.

☆  — JIMIN

jimin hates it here.

all this glass, all this tile, this dull and dreary grey box he perches in. it is like a gilded cage without the shining, glimmering prettiness. 

the wooden desk under his palms sears his skin with cold. every so often his body forces him to look up and scan the room, in case the prickling feeling at the back of his head is right and the emptiness isn’t so empty after all.

the sun sets on his back, plunging his office into an artist’s palette of muted golds and oranges. grey-blue shadows stretch across the floor, and the decorative pieces resting on the shelves morph them into pointed, irregular shapes, like reaching hands.

jimin leans back in his cold leather chair and rubs his eyes with two balled-up fists, like a small child too stubborn to go to sleep. his brow creases as he rubs the bridge of his nose – the movement feels far too alien to be his, and yet it is.

none of this is him.

the broad double doors of his office whisper as they swing open. even, measured steps enter the room with the echoing click, click of shoes on tile.

jimin frowns harder into his hands. “please, ms kim... whatever it is, postpone it.”

a smooth, amused voice floats over to him. “do i really mean so little that you can’t even get my name right, dearest to my heart?”

his eyes widen. his head whips up and he knocks his chair back without a care, practically vaulting over his messy desk to leap into your arms.

your arms wrap gently around him, and you laugh. it’s a warm, comforting sound, rich and honest and so different to all those uptight businessmen jimin has to deal with daily. he wishes he could bask in your laughter forever.

he hugs your middle, nearly crushing your ribs as he squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face into your chest. your enveloping warmth makes him shiver, abruptly aware of his icy fingers and cold cheeks.

jimin sighs shakily as you caress his hair, running your fingers through the soft locks and loosening the hard gel that kept it out of his eyes for the day. you lean in to press a light, lingering kiss to his forehead, and your thumb strokes the stress-creases out of his brow.

finally, he relaxes, pulling you in and holding you so tight it knocks the wind out of you. his grip feels vice-like, clenching fistfuls of smooth fabric between your shoulder blades. the enamel logo of his family’s company, pinned to his grey lapel, digs into your skin, but you don’t even think of asking him to ease up.

“hyung, you’re here,” he whispers, in such a broken, relieved rasp that your heart aches. “you’re here...”

up on the top floor, he towers over the rest of the city. the curved panes of glass wrapping the entirety of the office ensure he knows that he’s completely, utterly, by himself. 

“i’m here,” you hum, smoothing your hands over his back. “is it time to go home, baby?”

he nods furiously against your chest. “please. get me out.”

you pull away reluctantly. your palms are still firmly pressed together, fingers entwined, and you struggle to pull your jacket off without letting go of him. he suppresses his laugh as he shrugs off his jacket and pulls off his tie, and you switch items.

you knot your new blue tie deftly; it looks nice with your grey trousers. you fold jimin’s jacket over your arm. he dons your zip-up hoodie and it swallows him up – he catches you gazing at him with a smile, and he pecks your cheek with a shy grin.

you lead him to the doors and peek around the corner. the lone guard still seems asleep on his feet, and you turn back to jimin with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes. “ready to make a run for it?”

he reaches up and pulls off your beanie, tugging it down over his ears. he giggles sweetly and nods. “i’m ready.”

☆  — TAEHYUNG

“taehyung, honey? i’m home.”

the front door clicks shut. you turn, expecting taehyung’s soft footsteps to come pattering down the hallway to come greet you with a bright and beaming smile. it’s become routine, since your job ends a few hours after his last class for the week. it has some sort of domestic appeal – the whole honey, i’m home cycle had been his idea. when he stares up at you with round, pleading eyes, it’s difficult not to cave in.

the cosy apartment, filled until it overflows with leafy green plants in little glass jars and large pots, is oddly still. the sleepy sun shines gold through the windows of the balcony. long, soft shadows, as if the sunset personally brushed its fingers across the walls, drape across desk and plant, shelf and sculpture.

it’s rare to see the place so quiet. something’s always happening, whether the kettle is boiling or soft music floating from the peach-coloured record player. 

you place your shoes on the rack and wander into the flat, sparing a glance into the kitchen to make sure the stove hasn’t been forgotten and left on. it’s not. 

you tread slowly through the single, short hallway. there are only two bedrooms, and the smaller one – originally yours – has been converted into a space for taehyung to put all of his canvases and paints. 

his bedroom door is open just a crack. you push it open, revealing his large, messy bed and even messier room. the white bedsheets are all out of place, and his pillow has been tossed near the bottom. you smile slightly and shake your head – you’ll clean it up during the weekend. 

no taehyung. you move across the hallway, placing your hand on the silver knob and twisting.

canvases of every size lean against each other in the nearest corner to your left. some are completed – gorgeous dawn ports, hazy night markets, rolling hills and blooming gardens in the middle of spring – and only wait to be coated in a final layer of varnish. others are in the process of being primed.

directly opposite the door is a large window, under which sits a long cushioned bench with a rainbow-striped blanket usually thrown on top. for style, taehyung had said with a haughty flick of his wrist, but you’re of the mind he only got it for the fact the rainbow stripes aren’t an immediate eyesore.

from behind taehyung’s current work – a large canvas smeared in thick acrylic applied with the palette knives still sitting in blobs of paint – you spot a limp hand. it’s spattered in dots of colour, hanging over the edge of the pale grey cushion. you step around the wooden legs.

curled up like a cat with one hand tucked under his head is taehyung, the thin blanket tossed over his waist. he’s pulled the blanket up, bunching it up for something to hold. he can’t sleep without something to hug.

he sleeps in a pool of light – light that turns his brown-sugar hair into a golden circlet. it falls into his eyes, and as you approach, your hand reaches for those rebellious locks, brushing them off his cheeks.

you are content to admire him like this. the shape of his lips, the splay of his dark lashes. 

as gently as you can, you slip your arms beneath him and lift. his blanket slides out of his loose fist, and he stirs.

“mmh?” he murmurs.

“it’s just me,” you say softly. “close your eyes.”

he listens. his hand curls on your chest as you carry him towards your shared bedroom, being extra careful to not hit any part of him on any part of your home.

you place him on the bed and offer him his pillow. with his eyes cracked open, a small crease in his brow, he shakes his head and instead reaches for you.

“honey, i’m still wearing a suit.”

“take y’jacket off,” he mumbles, “want you here.”

after a moment’s hesitation – he gets impatient, making grumpy noises at the back of his throat – you do as he tells you to. you join him on the bed, taking care to avoid his sprawling limbs. 

he shuffles close to you, face buried in your chest. he reminds you of bakeries and iced chocolate drinks. you wrap your arms around his waist – his hair smells like wild berries.

he whispers, half-asleep: “welcome home.”

☆  — JEONGGUK

his eyelids droop and his vision blurs in and out of focus, like a camera on autofocus in a dark room. his heavy head tilts forward until he snaps awake, jerking upright with a rather painful smack of his skull against white-painted wood. he groans quietly, rubbing the throbbing spot at his crown.

“so this is where you’ve been hiding, sweetheart.”

jeongguk looks up blearily, his blinks long and slow. “mmhm.”

you crouch in front of him, the glass in your hands full of water. when you hold it out, he takes it greedily and lifts it to his rosy lips. his throat bobs quickly as he sculls the cold water. he doesn’t stop until he’s drained the whole thing. 

he lowers the glass, gazing at you over the rim. he is a little more awake than before – his eyes follow you as you lower yourself next to him, sharing his place against the sink and its cabinet. as soon as you’re sitting comfortably, his body sags against you, head lolling onto your shoulder.

you chuckle. “that bad?”

“’m hot.” he sighs. he says enviously, “how are you still cold?”

“cold? i feel pretty warm.”

jeongguk huffs, setting the glass down next to him. “i hate you.”

“you wake me up in the middle of the night, demand a drink, and then claim to hate me?” you turn away, feigning hurt. “sweetheart, that wounds me.” 

he pulls at your arm loosely, forbidding you from moving away from him again, and his head flops onto your shoulder. his skin, so warm in the summer days, is painted blue-white with the wavering moonlight. “hyung.”

you refuse to give in to his whining, smiling gently down at his dark head of hair even though he can’t see you. you stay stubbornly silent even when he repeats himself – hyung. hyung, don’t ignore me. hyung.

leaning your head back against the cabinet and closing your eyes makes pale light dance across the backs of your eyelids. jeongguk plays with your left hand – the one closest to him – and touches your palm to his warm one, stretching his fingers flat and comparing sizes. the pads of his fingers are soft, like babies’ cheeks flushed pink with laughter.

he twists his hand, palm gliding across yours, and entwines your fingers. bringing it to rest on his thigh, he brushes his left hand over the back of your hand, following the veins visible under the skin from the thickening of the humid night air. he sighs softly, a tiny puff of air against your neck. 

“yn,” he murmurs – sleepily, contentedly. “yn, i love you.”

“oh, do you? describe love to me.” you expect him to huff, to push you away, to complain that you don’t appreciate him.

except he doesn’t. he looks up at you, holding the universe in his warm brown eyes, and nods – it’s a small, rapid bob of his head that makes his hair bounce. 

it reminds you of when you first met. he was all huge eyes and parted lips and shaky hands back then. it pulls at something deep in your chest to see how that part of him never really left, even as he got older.

he grips your hand tighter and pulls it to his chest, holding it there so you can feel his heart beating rhythmically against the back of your palm. you lower your eyes from the soft white glow of the ceiling to his face. 

jeongguk’s heart quickens, harder, faster, until it pounds against his ribcage. his eyes are wide and searching, scanning your face for every shift of emotion. “there,” he whispers, averting his eyes in something resembling embarrassment. “that’s what it’s like.”

sitting in the bathroom next to him during a heatwave that called for sucking on ice cubes – and with a broken air conditioner that never really worked anyway – made a soft kind of warmth bloom in your chest. thin white shafts of moonlight filter in through the narrow window, shining backwards onto pale tiles. it illuminates the contours of his jaw, the softness of his neck, the curve of his bare shoulders.

with a gentle smile, you lean in. his heart is on the horizon of bursting out of him when your lips press together. this is what it is like for you, too.