#you're lucky i know they are/were in different bands

[jettlawrence]

the way i thought it was br*ndon ur*e singing all the spidey and his amazing friends songs and it's p*trick st*mp

[nekomanager]

SORRY, THERE'S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT ♡ AKAASHI KEIJI

due to unfortunate circumstances you have no other choice but to spend the night, sharing the same room with your charming editor AKAASHI KEIJI

f!reader, pwp, deep penetration, fingering, breast sucking, orgsm delay, cunnilings, mirror sex

“I deeply apologize. We're fully booked for tonight. We only have one room left.”

Tough luck. Now, you’re stuck in a hotel room with a man overnight. It was not just a man, it's your longtime crush and editor, Akaashi Keiji.

Your fingers fumbled as you tried to process everything in your brain.

All of this wasn’t supposed to happen to you. It was his ordinary house visit asking you about the plot of your new work when he suddenly invited you to one of the places in your story for "inspiration".

Talk about being lucky. Akaashi had been working with you for years now. Your admiration for him grew as he was the only man who listens to you ramble about your plots and actually gives his serious and constructive thoughts about them. He's intelligent, attentive and respectful. It's truly admirable.

Add to that, he was charming as hell. Well, his eyes were wistful and lips, peachy. He always reached his hand out for you to shake and you swore you felt nervous every time without fail.

Just when you thought everything would stop with him being so good-looking and fine, you’re wrong. Just a while ago, he opened the cafe door for you as you headed out. He had manners too. He was every man straight out of fiction!

Good grief. He also smelled like olive essence that you wanted to bury your face into his chest. You were sure that time stopped during that moment.

The snow fell hard and the train stopped their operations. Finding a cab home was also impossible. You had no choice but to stay at the nearby love hotel. A love hotel! How ridiculous. An even silly catch was you had to endure sharing it Akaashi.

You sighed, staring at the mirror of your shared room's ceiling. You blushed. We all know what's this for. This is ridiculous!

Donning only the white oversized shirt you got from the vending machine and the disposable panties from the vanity kit, you laid down in bed freshly-bathed, and inspected the buttons at the side table. You were amazed when the light changed different colors from blue to pink. Leaving it there, you pressed a button that made the bed bounce. You panicked and wanted it to stop, but you only increased the speed more which threw you off the bed.

“Ow!" You stumbled on the floor with your lower-half hitting the edge of the bedside table, wounding the back of your left upper-thigh.

“What happened?” Akaashi rushed out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel around his waist with his hair still dripping. Even though you’re in slight sting, you didn’t miss how perfectly toned his abs were as the droplets fell over them.

“I-I’m okay. I just fell out of bed," you said, avoiding to look at his body.

He went beside you and slid an arm behind your knees, carrying you back to bed. Your insides clenched at how your cheek was pressed close to his still drenched chest. The heat of his skin making you hot in the lower region of your body.

Once he laid you down, you shifted a little and a pained expression left you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked.

“Y-Yeah, I guess I just have a little wound.”

Akaashi stood up and went to where he placed his bag, fetching a brown pouch. He brought the item over and pulled out a band-aid. “Where is it?”

You turned your body sideways and lifted your oversized shirt, revealing the small wound at the back of your upper thigh just near below your ass. You were just wearing panties and you knew that so well, but somehow...Maybe you could look a little charming for him too.

Oh, Akaashi sure knew how your charm was working him real bad. You were smart, quirky and witty. You're wonderful. You piqued his curiosity most of the time and he always thought you're cute.

He swallowed dryly. He wasn’t supposed to be doing this. He could just give you the band-aid and let you tend to your own wound, but you're too adorable to resist and the pull of his dick was clouding up his judgment; not to mention the sight of your fleshy thigh before him and that smooth skin was inviting him to come over.

So he did.

He took out the band-aid from its seal and carefully covered your wound.

His light touch and breathing fanned your sensitive skin—it was hot and a little ticklish, sending down tingles in between your legs. His eyes met yours and you held his gaze.

Both of you were panting.

Anticipating.

His stare didn’t leave you as he planted open-mouthed kiss on your thigh. You closed your eyes and breathed through your mouth. Your reaction signaling him that you wanted it too. He kissed even lower, leaving little marks on your thigh as he sucked on your flesh.

The moment he reached your knees, he parted them and got himself in between.

He leaned down and kissed you, tasting and sucking your lips. His hands skimming under your shirt, pulling it up off of you.

Damn!

He felt his cock harden at the contact of your erect nipple against his chest. Hungry for them, his lips traveled down your neck, your collarbone and stopped at one of your nipples. He sucked and twirled his tongue around it and you squirmed under his weight, a wanting moan went out of your lips.

As if sensing your need, he slipped a hand under your panties. The pad of his three fingers flat on your pussy, massaging it with the right kind of pressure. Hearing your heavy breathing was getting him more excited. Your arousal drenching his fingers, tempting him to slip one in.

“Mhmn!”

That just made him add another one in. His mouth transferred to your other nipple and your fingers all tangled in the strands of his hair. Your head felt light. His tongue on your breast and fingers inside your cunt were in the same tempo. Slow, sensuous and torturous. You wanted more and more of him.

You couldn't reason with yourself anymore, begging the man whom you had a totally professional relationship until now. “Please…” You whimpered.

Akaashi looked upon you. That helpless look on your face ain't helping at all, it made him want you even more. He really wanted to take this slow but you’re making it hard for him. You’re making him too hard.

Unlatching your breast, he captured your lips next, removing his fingers from your pussy. Your hips slightly buckled up, missing his touch.

Getting lost in his tender kisses, your wetness dripped out from your slit. He parted from you and you let out an involuntary moan of complain. That made made him smile sweetly at you.

Shit! Did that make you bite your lower lip. Everything this man did was be pretty and sexy as hell. He stood up and…

Wait- Was that it? You felt a pang of disappointment, until you yelped!

He pulled you at the edge of the bed by the waist. It was abrupt but still very gentle. Your legs were splayed down, while only your upper-body was lying on the mattress. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He said. You gave him a questioning look and he leaned forward to kiss your forehead, “Your wound.”

He took hold of your gaze. You got lost in them that you didn’t notice him sheath himself. He watched your eyes widen as he slid his cock inside you. Shit. He’s hot. He felt so hot. He draped your right leg up his shoulder. Reflexively, you wrapped your left leg around his waist.

You really thought he was gonna fuck you fast. The way he’s already throbbing inside you made you think so, but you were wrong.

Akaashi was sliding out of you slowly, making you feel every inch of his long cock just to slam hard and deep right back in. Your eyes almost closed each time he’s hitting it deep. It was relentless.

Thrust. He couldn't believe that he'd be having sex with the girl of his dreams tonight. But hell! Who gives a damn! Thrust. He'd been sticking by the rules all this time. Maybe, he should try to live for once and fuck! Thrust! You felt so good, he could have you 'til tomorrow. Yes, just for tonight, the only one he'd be reining in would be you.

“Ohhh, ahh…” You couldn’t even control the pace. His silent and gentle command showed on his knitted brows. His cheeks were flushed, jaw clenched as a light droplet of sweat crawled down the side of his face. Damn! He’s so goddamn sexy.

You bit your moans, looking up at the mirror on the ceiling. You watched as he fucked you slowly but hardly. His cock sliding in and out of you while his ass clenched every time he was slamming balls deep into your pussy. The impact everytime he rammed in was making your breasts bounce lasciviously.

Despite his slow tempo, he’s going in hard and heavy that his balls slapping onto your ass was audible in the entire room, drowning your pathetic moans. It felt so good. So good that you wanted more.

"Akaa...Akaa...mhmn~"

You’re always so close to coming with him penetrating so deep, but him sliding out so slowly was delaying your orgasm. You felt it. Growing and building hot inside you. Your pussy was throbbing so bad and you whimpered to him helplessly.

He knew he could still go for far long but seeing you plead for your release, he couldn’t help but satisfy your need.

“Come here.” Akaashi ordered in that gentle but commanding manner. He let go of your leg on his shoulder and you followed his order without any complain, lifting your body and lacing your fingers together at the back of his head. “Hold on tight.” He whispered as his strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place.

“Ah!” You gasped as he fucked you surprisingly fast this time with the same depth and impact. “Ahhh! Oh my god! Shit! Ahhh…”

He grunted through clenched teeth as he pounded you hard. Fuck! Fuck! Y/N fuck!

Three pumps and you leaned your head back, mouth open, orgasming like you never had before. The feeling of not being able to release for a prolonged time then letting it all out made you feel like you’ve seen heaven. It felt so amazing that you’re still trembling around him.

Akaashi kissed your forehead; with his cock still hard inside you, he lifted you up. You weakly hugged him tight in return.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He brought you to the bathroom and dipped your connected bodies in the jacuzzi. He unlatched from you, retrieving his cock. Him sliding out got you almost close to coming again, still feeling the pleasure in your pussy.

You looked in between you and watched as he removed the used condom. He didn’t cum! And he’s still erect and rock hard. How’s that-

His lips found yours again and you instinctively wound your arms around him.

“Do you have anywhere else to go to tomorrow?” He asked with a voice so sweet. The way he’s so gentle yet disciplined was crazy attractive.

“No, I have nowhere else to go.” You answered limply.

“We have all night then.” He lifted you up and seated you at the edge of the tub, so his face was just right in front of your pussy. “Feet up.”

And you lifted them on the tiles, opening wide for him. His index and middle fingers rubbed your pussy, making you moan, “Aka-��

He stopped, looked back to you and demanded, “Keiji.” He inserted his two fingers in. Your head lulled back, foolishly repeating his name over your head. You’re sure you’d be screaming it for the entire night. The moment his tongue finally touched your pussy, another wave of orgasm hit you. Right there, you knew you’d be extending your stay.

© sir-kuroo 2024 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.

[hiddenreamers]

I was in your music video - f1 drivers x singer!reader

SUMMARY: They say that if a poet loves you, they will write you into immortality. But if you date a musician, they might write you into the Billboard 100. Which is exactly what happens to your driver boyfriend.

Featuring: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz Jr, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, George Russell

Note: Yes, two songs are sung by male artists. Yes, I'm going to ignore that fact and you should, too.

Lewis Hamilton

He's been in the room maybe five times. The space always felt strangely sacred to him - this is where you write, compose and practice songs with your band; this is where the magic, so to speak, happens. Walls are absolutely covered with tour posters, polaroids and printed-out articles. There's a large mirror that seems to be a message board considering all the sticky notes and words written with a marker. The only somewhat de-cluttered space is surrounding the setup. It's an unspoken testament to being a musician in a band.

There's a certain tension inside the driver. You've never asked him to listen to a song before it's finished. Sure, he has listened through your albums before they were officially released but it was always just that - a recording, not a live version. So what's different this time? Why is it vital he hears this song early?

Walking through the room, Lewis has to carefully watch where he's going. He doesn't want to accidentally break something by stepping on a cable or kicking a box with unknown contents. Inside a garage, he knows what not to touch but a recording studio and instruments are pretty much an unknown world to him.

Lewis is standing around a tad awkwardly, hands in pockets, when the bassist pushes a big black box closer to the driver.

"Have a seat." The musician points to the chest.

Lewis frowns. "On the box?" he asks, unsure. "Is that okay?"

"It's the Lucky Chest, Hamilton," the bassist announces. The other band members snicker at the title. "You have to sit on it."

"What's lucky about it?" Lewis inquires. More than the seating choice, he's interested in the reason for laughter.

"The first time we played at a big festival," the guitarist begins, her story slightly interrupted by her tuning the guitar, "we were sitting on it and listening to Green Day's stage, wondering 'how the fuck are we supposed to play after them?'."

"We were doing like a punk-rock tribute thing," adds the drummer. He's adjusting his seat and judging by the constant up-and-down movement, he can't make up his mind. The process is finally over when he reaches to tap the high-hat and nods to himself, content.

"After we finished our set," you take over retelling the story, "Billy Joe Armstrong came up to us and said we did great."

"So now it's the Lucky Chest," concludes the bassist.

Perhaps it's another testament to being a musician in a band when multiple people together tell one story without cutting details or creating chaos. A true harmony, though a joke a little on the nose.

"Well, I'm honoured," Lewis says. An airy giggle escapes him as he's still thinking about how easily teamwork comes to you and your band.

"You should be." The guitarist points her finger at him in a joking but accusatory way. Then she looks over her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready, drummer boy."

Music fills the room and Lewis is instantly captivated by you. He noticed it the first time he saw you on stage, how something inside you changes the moment you hear the instruments playing. Intensity, fire - passion in its most primal form. But this time around, the look in your eyes is different. You're no longer looking at the audience but him specifically; instead of singing a song, you seem to be telling him something.

So he listens.

I'm a desert, you're an ocean It's your motion that I need Without you I am broken, left to thirst out in the heat

And how strange he suddenly feels: all of the sentiments he already knows but now that you've put them into words for the whole world to hear, he can't help but find some revelation in them. For a moment, there's only the two of you and your confession of desire. Every word resonates with him and Lewis feels like he could say all of those things about you, too.

The song is far from over but he has already decided - he will listen to it before every race.

Lando Norris

Nothing seemed different about that day.

Lando is streaming while you're still at the studio. In an hour or so, you will come back, he will end the stream and the two of you will sit down to eat something. You will talk about your day, he will say something silly and both of you will laugh. Just like you always did.

To his credit, Lando couldn't have known about the song because you never told him. Some part of you thought it would be a bit dramatic to announce that you've written a song about him but can't play it yet because it's not finished. It would spoil the fun, wouldn't it? Therefore, you decided to tell Lando only after he listened to the final product. Perhaps you also wanted to seem a lot more nonchalant about the whole thing, planning on giving him just an off-hand comment of "oh, by the way, this one's about you". Life, however, rarely turns out the way we plan and that's exactly what happened that night.

If it was just one or two people calling Lando "honeybee" on the stream, he probably wouldn't even notice. But even he will pay attention when the comments are going on hundreds if not thousands.

He can't help but grow flustered at the pet name born out of his visceral fear of insects.

"Who told you that?!" he yells in a comically angry tone, a poor attempt at hiding embarrassment.

The comments come flooding again, explaining the situation only in variations of your name and the title Espresso. And like a detective following a crime, Lando immediately searches the internet.

"I feel lied to," he speaks up. "She didn't tell me she has a new song coming out. Why am I the last one to know? When I literally live with her? This is so unfair, I'm obviously the biggest fan, I should know first!"

Lando plays the music video. From the first line of "he's thinking about me every night", his bashfulness only gets worse. What starts as an excited smile, grows into a flustered, giggly mess. Although his pride is on the line, he can't deny any of the claims you make in the song. Yes, he couldn't sleep one night thinking about you and texted you about that. Yes, he does call you often even though he hates making phone calls. And yes, Lando Norris is, in fact, wrapped around your finger. What a horse is everyone can see and similarly, everyone can see and define who Lando is when it comes to his girlfriend:

"Simp?" he reads one of the comments. "Look, maybe I am but at the end of the day I'm dating her and you're not so who's the real loser here?"

Lando can only laugh his heart out when the chat gets flooded with identical comments: You.

"Okay, I admit. I'm down bad for my girlfriend and I'm proud of that."

Tomorrow's headlines are bound to be interesting...

Oscar Piastri

Although Oscar has seen you in musicals countless times, this situation feels a lot weirder and more uncomfortable. When he comes to watch your show, he's in the audience and you're on the stage. Now you're sitting side by side on the couch in your shared apartment, about to see your first movie. You're both the audience and the creator, which leaves you unsure how to act.

Unfortunately, your discomfort only grows. Oscar seems to be enjoying the movie but joy is not granted to you on this day. With each minute, you know your big part is coming. Oh God, what is he going to think?

Then, you suddenly pause the film. Oscar looks at you confused.

"There's something you need to know before you watch this scene and listen to the song," you say before he can ask you about your strange actions.

Oscar's frown only deepens. "You're making it sound really serious."

"Because it is. The thing is... " you hang your voice, unsure how to put words together. How do you tell someone this without making things awkward? "This is more embarrassing than I thought it would be but the song you're about to hear, I wrote it thinking about you."

He's trying to smile but the shadow of embarrassment on his face doesn't go unnoticed. You can only hope it's good kind of nervous.

The movie is resumed. As your discomfort is barely tolerable, you're looking away from the TV, fidgeting ever-so-slightly. Once or twice, you glance at Oscar, trying to see his reaction. The problem is, he's sitting unbelievably still. True, Oscar Piastri tends to be on the calmer side but right now it feels off. As if lost deep in thought, he appears to be diligently contemplating the scene in the movie; picking apart the words that came to your mind while thinking about him.

When the song comes to an end, you pause the film once more. A tense silence falls between you and Oscar, both longing to say something and yet neither willing to.

"So?" you begin hesitantly. "What do you think?"

Oscar shifts awkwardly. "Erm... I don't really know what to say."

A nervous giggle escapes your lips. "It's really sappy, I know." You try to downplay the situation, fearing that his reaction is born out of something negative. Does he think you're clingy? Obsessive? Too dramatic to handle?

"It's not that," he quickly denies. "Well, okay, it is kind of sappy but it's good sappy?" Oscar's tone raises slightly, revealing that he's unsure whether it's the right choice of words.

"Good sappy?" you repeat.

It feels as though woe has weaved a nest inside your viscera. "Good sappy" sounds like a lovely, diplomatic euphemism used not to hurt someone's feelings.

"Yeah, it's just..." Oscar doesn't finish his sentence. He runs his hand through his hair, then rubs the back of his neck nervously. Finally, he looks at you but not in a way you're familiar with. There's something ethereal in his gaze, a glint of inexplicable emotion that would escape a less observant eye. "It's really beautiful," he says. "The fact that you feel this way about me?" You could swear there are tears in his eyes as he lets out a flustered giggle. "I can die happy now."

Carlos Sainz

As old tradition entails, the Thursdays before a race weekend are meant for golfing. And who is Carlos Sainz to not give in to the custom?

He's sitting in his car, impatiently ploughing through the traffic of the city centre. Why are people out and about at this time, anyway? Shouldn't they be at work? Wanting to get his mind off of the fact that he's going to be quite late to the game, Carlos turns on the radio. The man is mindlessly skipping through the stations until something catches his attention - the announcer introduces you as today's guest.

"Hello again, pretty girl," Carlos says to himself. A small smile enters his face.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you," the radio host begins. "Unfinished Business is just the album I've been waiting for this year. And not only me! Have you seen Billboard 100 lately?"

Your flustered giggle is just as adorable as always. "Yesterday evening, I think?"

The broadcaster sighs dramatically. "Then you have ancient news. I have the site pulled up now and check it every few minutes. Let me tell you, Unfinished Business has climbed twenty spots since morning."

"Oh, shoot."

"Indeed." The announcer laughs and Carlos does with him. It's such a familiar theme for the driver - you being more humble than you really should be, surprised by the success you entirely deserve.

"Now, to address the elephant in the room or rather on the music charts. Over and Over Again is like a love letter all of us have written but never sent. Tell me all about it!"

"I guess 'love letter' is a pretty good description," you explain. Curious, Carlos turns up the volume. "For some time, I was trying to put my thoughts together and tell someone how I felt but never could quite do it. I can write good songs but in real life, I'm pretty terrible at speaking my mind and talking about feelings. I just don't want people to misunderstand, you know?"

"What are you saying, hermosa?" Carlos asks aloud, although there's no one to answer him.

"At least you can write a song about it! We regular folk are stuck with memes and playlists."

"Thank God, I can!" You laugh and, as embarrassing as it may sound, Carlos feels a sudden warmth spreading through his chest. "I was struggling with saying what I wanted to say to him, so at some point, I just decided I could put those words and feelings into a song. He likes to listen to the radio when he's driving so he might even be listening right now."

Although nothing bad or negative is going on, Carlos feels himself growing tense, nervous. There's no doubt the "he" you keep mentioning is him but what exactly is it you've been trying to tell him? Is there something he's missing?

"Did you tell him you've written a song about him?" the radio host asks.

"It might have slipped my mind," you answer coyly.

The announcer only laughs. "Oh dear, what a way to find out! Without further ado, let's hear your love letter to the mysterious man. I really hope he's listening to us right now. Don't you dare change the station, you lucky guy."

To his own surprise, Carlos recognizes the melody - you've been humming it for weeks now. But as you begin singing, the words leave him in disbelief. Do you really... mean all of that?

Carlos is lost in the song, feeling as though the lyrics aren't just lyrics but your genuine confession; a true love letter, as you have said yourself. He's brought back to reality only when the car behind him honks and Carlos is a hair's breadth away from picking a fight with the other driver. Nothing requires more haste or attention than his girlfriend exclaiming to the whole world that he will always be the one for her and that she will love him over and over again.

Charles Leclerc

You don't hear Charles coming in - you're too lost in your own thing to remember there's an entire world outside of the song and the piano in front of you. On the other hand, Charles doesn't announce his arrival as he doesn't want to disturb you. To be perfectly honest, he's a little too curious to interrupt you. It happens very rarely that you practise outside of the studio and so Charles doesn't really get to hear your more casual singing, not an embellished performance for the audience.

As quietly as he can, he makes his way towards you. Charles casually leans against the doorframe, your back turned to him as you continue playing the piano. He barely bites back the smile that creeps onto his face whenever you effortlessly sing the high notes - they are difficult for professionals and yet you execute them so cleanly, they appear almost too easy.

The lyrics haunt him but in a truly delicious way. A particular note of sincerity in your voice makes the words stick to him like rain does to a reckless passerby. Sure, they will slip away, although not before drenching him; their vital piece will forever lie with him.

When the song comes to an end, Charles (without thinking twice) gives you a hefty applause. The surprise makes you almost fall off the chair.

"Shit, you scared me!" you yell at him. It takes a couple deep breaths and your boyfriend's apologies, to collect yourself. "How much did you hear?"

He shrugs, suddenly realizing that he wasn't supposed to hear even one note of the song. "Pretty much all of it."

Your expression must not be joyful as Charles resumes his apologies and poor attempts at excuses. Suddenly, you cut him off. "How'd you like it?"

For a moment, he only hums and mindlessly knocks at the doorframe, looking for the right words.

"I loved it," he confesses. A strange tension in his voice proves he's telling the truth. "It's a beautiful song."

"Good," you answer absentmindedly. Quietly, you nod to yourself before looking back at Charles, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "It would really suck if you hated a song about yourself, you know?"

His eyes grow wide and Charles seems to forget about blinking for a good minute. Judging by the changes in his expression, you can tell the exact thought process he's experiencing: realizing you've written a song about him, joy caused by that, remembering the lyrics and finally taking them personally.

The more observant fans might notice a new addition to his helmet: "Claire de Lune" written in elegant lettering.

George Russell

Common sense might tell you that a race car driver must have no fear. And that would be correct, although quite imprecise. They must have no fear on track, yes, but daily life is quite different from racing, isn't it? Or maybe George is discovering a range of emotions he has not known before.

Your relationship is fresh but that isn't to say it's not serious. The weight of the connection the two of you share is a major part of the reason why George has been dead set on taking things slow. The other part is him knowing what media circus will play out once the news breaks. It's hard to blame him for wanting to keep at least some aspect of his life private, especially one that means so much to him.

As understanding as you are, George's apprehensiveness is tiring. You perfectly understand his reasoning and to some degree share the sentiment but at the same time, you are just somebody in love - you itch to scream it to the whole world. Or, at the very least, share a picture of the two of you. Both of you haven't been middle-schoolers for quite some time now, so why act like ones?

George, like the supportive boyfriend he is, loves to see you in your element. He watches the music videos, yet, but he much prefers the dance practice videos, where you're visibly enjoying each second of the choreography. Therefore, when you upload a new dance video for your song, he's probably the first person to play it.

It's a catchy tune that makes even the most boring people want to dance a little. With his head moving to the rhythm, George doesn't focus much on the lyrics until something in the second verse catches his attention:

So used to hiding We built our kingdom around The right timing

The lines, understandably, hit a little too close to home to be a pure coincidence. Now suspicious, George replays the video - this time, he's actually listening to the words instead of focusing on your dancing. Any hesitation that he's the true recipient of the song is gone with the first line of "Say you want me". The desperation in your voice is simply too candid to be just an act for the sake of the performance.

With the song loudly playing on a loop, George is scrolling through his phone's gallery in search of the best pictures of the two of you. He can't help but mouth the lyrics along with your singing, only to randomly giggle as the thought once again settles - it's about him.

Your phone can't stop vibrating. The notifications are coming nonstop. What on Earth happened? Upon opening Instagram, the mystery is solved. The internet seemed to be set on fire when George posted a series of pictures of the two of you with a caption that earned a giddy chuckle from you: "Setting us in motion".

Max Verstappen

Max and you both understand how much support can change. Sometimes just knowing that this other person is out there, watching and cheering, can change everything. As such, the two of you try to attend each other's events as much as you can. Unfortunately, the universe isn't always kind and you end up on the opposite ends of the world. The only support you can offer then is watching the live-streamed event - just like Max is doing right now.

He's sitting in his driver's room in Singapore, while you're at an award show in the USA. Quite the distance. There's something unbearably humbling about having to watch your performance like most of the world, when Max is, without a doubt, not most of the world.

In the back of his mind, Max is still thinking about the conversation he had with you earlier. Although he never misses your performances, you made it a point to tell him to watch this one. In your own words, he's supposed to look out for something fun, like a detail that will make this show different from the others. So as though he is a hawk, or more of a vulture, Max is hyperanalizing everything that's happening on the screen. He's not about to miss your little surprise.

The song begins and as much as he wants to enjoy watching you in your element, Max is a missile on a mission. Nothing specific seems to catch his eye but that t-shirt you're wearing...

Max knows it all too well. Theoretically, it's his t-shirt but considering you wear it more often than he does, it's practically yours. Now it's styled to fit the concept and image of your bandmates but the colour, the logo, the number, are all unmistakeable. Considering how much you're touching the article of clothing, compared to other dancers, he's convinced he's found what he was meant to look for.

Before he can wonder why you've chosen to wear his t-shirt for your performance, it's you who gives him the answer through the lyrics:

I feel like for the first time I am not faking Fingers on my buttons and now you're playing Master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself

Max Verstappen doesn't get flustered but if he did, he'd be beyond flustered right now. The realization hits him like a derailed train - the song that everyone has been obsessed with through the summer and that has pretty obvious sexual lyrics is actually about him.

And if he did get flustered, the emotion would be rather short-lived, giving way to pride. After all, the core meaning of the song is that he's a generous lover, right? Clearly, he's been taking good care of his girlfriend.

Now, each sung line of "Just the touch of your love" makes Max all the more frustrated that the two of you are so far apart. He's earned his title of "Master of anticipation" and he intends to keep it.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Ma'am III

Aitana Bonmatí x Royal!Reader

Summary: The aftermath of your elopement

"Well," You said, throwing your phone down onto the bedside table," My father knows."

Aitana, your wife, was relaxed against the pillows. Her engagement ring and matching wedding band sparked in the late afternoon sun.

"This is a terrible first impression, you know."

You scoffed. "Please. I'm his favourite child. That makes you his favourite daughter-in-law."

Aitana frowned. "I don't think that's how it works."

"It is," You said decisively. You crawled towards her, straddling her legs and leaning closer," Trust me. I know a lot about being a favourite. Father's favourite. William's favourite. Definitely Harry's favourite."

Aitana laughed. Her hands landed on your hips, drawing you closer until your lips were moments away from brushing hers. "Still, I haven't actually met your father. He might decide I'm not worth it."

"He can pissed off then," You said," I married you. I'm staying married to you. No matter what."

"You're lucky my parents love you," She replied," Otherwise they'll be very annoyed by this whole eloping thing."

"Is it really elopement if the rings cost more than a car?" You wondered and Aitana laughed again, fondly pulling on a strand of your hair.

"Yes," She said," You rich people live on a different planet."

You grinned, leaning forward to connect your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. "You know," You whispered against them," You're one of those rich people now too. What do you want to do first? Pay off Barcelona's debts?"

She rolled her eyes, pushing you away until you flopped onto your back next to her. "I think there's rules against those kind of things."

"You're right." You nodded," I'll do it. It looks better coming from a pair of princesses."

Aitana paled somewhat at your words.

Yes, she knew that you were a princess. The daughter of the King of England. Yet it hadn't crossed her mind at all on that beach last night with just the two of you, the priest and your security guard and two hotel staff members signing as your witnesses.

She hadn't considered that she would become a princess now too. It hadn't even been a thought in her mind.

Well, at least no one could accuse her of being a gold digger.

"I..." She didn't quite know what to say so she settled on the obvious. "I love you."

You grinned back at her, easy and self-assured. "I love you too."

You sat up, wiggling into the spot next to her.

"Things won't change, Aitana. Not by too much. Father won't let the media leak anything, though I doubt there were any paps on the beach with us. He's gifting us a house in Barcelona. It's not quite what we imagined but we can make it work, at least for now. We have time before this all comes out."

Aitana sighed. "I have to tell my teammates."

"Do it later." You shimmied even closer to her, layering kisses up her shoulder and neck. "We're on our honeymoon."

Aitana grinned at you with another eye roll that she was almost too fond of giving you. "Well...you do make a good point."

"You're right...I do."

"I mean, we've told out parents. Those are the most important people."

She could feel your breath against the shell of her ear.

"And we are on our honeymoon."

"And we are on our honeymoon," She confirmed, throwing her phone down and surging forwards to kiss you. "My teammates can wait."

It was hours later when you and Aitana emerged onto the terrace to eat dinner and relax.

You didn't bother to get dressed. The whole villa was within a gated community and your security team had always been excellent at the jobs.

You had simply thrown on a robe and relaxed back in your seat.

Aitana had done the same and you sat opposite each other as the sun begins to set over the horizon.

"You promise nothing will change too much?"

"Aitana," You said, leaning forward," Things will change, yeah, but not in the way that you expect. You can still play football. You'll still have paps following your every move but you also get more protection. More protection against paps and...others." You both knew who you were talking about. "People are still going to pick apart your every move but there's a team of lawyers waiting to sue those people to shreds. Not all change is bad change."

She grinned at you, leaning forward as well. "Then tell me the good things."

You smirked back at her. "Well, for one, you get a fancy title and new place to live. Enough money to last more than a lifetime. Access to fancy things like private jets. A new passport, if you want it." You moved back into your chair again, flinging your feet up onto the table. "And a tiara, if you want."

Aitana blinked comically. "A tiara?"

You winked. "A tiara worth more than your ring."

[salsakiyoomi]

you fell head over heals for someone you shouldn't have fallen head over heels for.

ryomen sukuna was an enigma and the very person you should've never fallen in love with.

you knew him from all over campus, he was a troublemaker but his looks made up for it, all the girls were in love and squealing about him, hoping for a chance to get in his bed and tangle up in his sheets.

of course, some did, the lucky ones you'd guess, for someone as arrogant and cocky as him, he sure was picky with who he gets with, it's not like he's ever had anything beyond one night stands, though still the dainty drummer still liked to have his good food.

oh yeah, he was a drummer in a band.

maybe that's what made him such a heartthrob at campus — actually, you weren't sure if it was the fact that he's a drummer or the fact that he's a gym freak, or the fact that he had tattoos or —

you could go on for days.

in your mind, you hated sukuna, he was nothing but a difficult and egocentric freak to you.

in your heart? that was a different story.

you should've never fallen in love with ryomen sukuna.

so now in the morning after of a fun night, tangled up in his sheets with your clothes scattered all over the floor, you knew you were the stupidest person to walk earth.

how did you get here? oh that's easy, you were drunk but not that drunk at a party with your friends, he was there with his band mates serving one song after the other until they got of stage and had a few drinks of their own.

then suddenly, sukuna's hands were all over you as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear about how pretty you are, the way you look and how perfect your body was for him.

you should've never fallen for any of this, why did you fall for all of this?

you had a giddy smile on your face and was giggling the whole way back as he led you to his room.

god, that was such a fuck up.

you groan, covering your eyes from the sunshine the leaks into the room from the cracks of the blinds, and when you get accustomed to it, you let your eyes wander over his room.

posters, curses, a drum set with a guitar in the corner, a vape and a pack of cigars on his nightstand, the dresser's door wide open with clothes spilled out.

yeah, everything about this screamed ryomen.

the door to his room opens and he walks in, hair dripping wet and with nothing but a towel around his waist.

he lets out a huff as he sees you're awake, "there is still warm water if you want to shower."

that's it? that's all he has to say to you? after everything he told and did to you last night? even after your naked bodies tangled and connected that's all?

he won't even meet your eyes.

"okay." is all you manage out in a meek voice, pulling the covers tighter over your body, hoping that you can just drown in them.

ryomen sukuna was an enigma, an enigma you should've never fallen in love with.

a/n : this was heavily inspired by another writer's drummer! sukuna drabble but i cannot for the life of me remember their user if somebody knows who they are pls tell me so i can give them their credits <33

[swanlikely]

Current Brainrot: Halloween w/ Husband Nanami!

Author's Note: He's practically living in head, and yes, he's paying rent. That's just the kind of man he is. I looove him.

not proof-read! (sorry if there are any errors - let me know and i'll fix it!) CW: AFAB! reader, usage of she/her, fingering, role-playing, nanami in a tight doctor's costume hehe.

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Nanami isn't just a good husband; he's the absolute best. He simply can't say no to his adorable little wife, especially when she bats her pretty eyelashes and begs oh so sweetly. And that's exactly how he ended up in this delightful mess.

As October rolled in, the air turned crisp and the leaves started their colorful dance. This year, though, felt different. A playful, almost naughty energy bubbled up inside you, eager to dive into the Halloween spirit.

"Is this what you wanted, dear?" Nanami called out, leaning against the entrance of your shared bedroom. He practically filled the entire doorframe, his unbuttoned lab coat teasingly revealing his toned chest, the stethoscope draped around his neck adding a touch of forbidden allure. He was the sexiest fake doctor you've ever seen.

You couldn't help but giggle in excitement, your eyes glossing over with anticipation as you knelt at the edge of the bed. It had taken a whole week of begging and teasing to convince Nanami to indulge your fantasies. This was just the beginning.

He chuckled at your eagerness, rolling up the sleeves of his lab coat to reveal forearms that looked like they were chiseled from marble. His wedding band caught your eye, a tantalizing reminder that your husband would dive headfirst into any want of yours. You bit your lip, knowing just how lucky you were to have a man who would embrace the filthiest, most embarrassing desires just to see you smile. God, you loved him.

"Oh Doctor Nanami, I think I'm sick," you purred, your voice oozing with need. The faux groan you let out sent a jolt straight to Nanami's cock. Hearing your shared last name roll off your tongue in such a sultry tone nearly made Nanami lose control and ravish you right then and there, abandoning any pretense of the charade. You could see the struggle in his eyes as he fought to maintain his composure. "Ah, we can't be having that now, can we?" Nanami finally asked, his voice thick with barely contained lust. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose in that way that always drove you wild before stepping towards you. The sight of him towering over you, with his broad shoulders and muscled chest straining against his too-tight undershirt, made your breathing falter. Every inch of him screamed power and control, and you could feel the heat between your legs pulse. You needed him, and the way his eyes darkened as he looked down at you told you he felt the same.

Nanami took the tip of your chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting your head side to side. "Hmm," he hummed, bringing the same thumb to swipe back and forth as he glared down at you through his glasses. Your breathing started to hitch as you looked up at your husband, coming in short, needy gasps.

"I don't see anything wrong with your physical appearance," his voice a low murmur as he pushed his thumb against your bottom lip, urging you to open up. "As pretty as ever," he added as you allowed his thumb to grind against your tongue.

He pulled his thumb out of your hot mouth with a pop, before his index and middle finger replaced the appendage. His eyes instructed you to suck, and you gladly obliged, swirling your tongue around your husband's thick, long fingers. "You're right, sweetheart, it does seem like you're running a fever. Your mouth is burning up," he cooed, his voice husky. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck. His fingers explored your mouth with deliberate slowness, each movement sending waves of heat to your cunt. As you continued to suck on his fingers, his other hand tracing a path down your side, making you arch into his touch.

His free hand explored the curve of your waist before gripping your hip possessively. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I think I need to take your temperature more thoroughly."

Nanami's fingers played with the hem of your already soaked panties, oh what an effect he had on you. You squirmed in anticipation, wanting to feel him, to go further. Nanami chuckled once again at how much of a needy girl he made you. "Impatient, aren't we?" he teased, his fingers lightly grazing against your clothed cunt. The fabric was drenched, clinging to your sensitive skin as he dragged his thumb over your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you shudder.

"Hypersensitive too? You must be really sick, Miss," he mumbled, raising an eyebrow as he withdrew his hand from your mouth, webs of saliva trailing between his fingers. With the hand already inspecting your cunt, he deftly pulled your soaked panties to the side and knelt down, his fawn-like eyes half-lidded as he took in the sight before him. You were delicious, dripping and messy just for him.

"K-Kento, there! Right there!" you choked out, your voice trembling with desperation as you reached for his wrist. The cool metal of his watch pressed into your palm, a stark contrast to the heat of the moment. Nanami's eyes swam with a mix of amusement as he swiftly swatted your hands away. "Ah, ah, ah," he tutted, his voice a low, seductive growl. With one hand, he pinned your wrists above your head, leaving you completely at his mercy.

"No touching, I need to make sure to take your temperature correctly," he reprimanded, pulling his fingers out. With the same hand, he delivered a sharp slap to your cunt. You winced and whimpered at the sudden combination of pleasure and pain that coursed through you. He was so mean. "And it's Doctor Nanami, remember?" he added, his tone smothered with authority and a hint of teasing.

"Sorry, Doctor... uuagh... Nanami," you panted between each slap to your cunt. Nanami's strong hand striking your swollen clit caused you to cry out, your eyes pleading and glossy, just the way he liked you. The rhythm of his hand was relentless, bullying almost.

"That's better," he breathed.

"Now, I'm going to run a few more tests on this pretty pussy, okay sweetheart?" he asks in that sweetly condescending tone. He paused all motion, patiently waiting for your reply, like he was torturing you to answer. He needed you to answer. This was part of the game. You nodded curtly, swallowing the saliva that had dribbled out of you after panting like a dog in heat. "Good girl," he groaned, making sure to accentuate and prolong the vowels.

The stethoscope that had been haphazardly draped around his neck was now in use, with the eartips firmly in place and the chest piece slowly approaching you. He looked so menacing, his muscled arms flexing under the rolled-up sleeves of his lab coat. It was absolutely intoxicating, he was intoxicating.

Nanami was about to get even meaner. As he pressed the icy metal of the chest piece against your clit; you recoiled. It was as if he could predict your every move, his other strong hand gripping the fleshy part of your hip and anchoring you firmly to the edge of the bed. "Sit still,"

Two fingers were again inserted into your slippery cunt, Nanami easing them in at a snail's pace. It was like he was searching for something. His eyes never left yours, half-lidded and tempting, drawing you through the moment without a single word.

"Why're you going so slow," you whined, bucking your hips to create more friction. Nanami's fingers continued to search the depths of your plush, slick walls, his middle and ring fingers sinking further into you with precision. The glint of his wedding band caught the light, still visible as he continued to push deeper.

"Please, I can't- oh fuck!" you yelped as he finally curled his fingers into the exact spot he was searching for. That cheeky bastard knew exactly what he was doing, and he relished every second of it. Curling against your g-spot with slow, intentional strokes made your legs tremble and threaten to close, but Nanami kept them apart, tutting at you as he glanced up from your cunt. The chest piece was still pressed against your clit, and he applied more pressure, causing a jolt to shoot through you. You weren't going to last very long, not with all the teasing he had done, and not with the myriad of sensations he was creating.

The contrast between the cold metal and his warm fingers was driving you insane. Each touch, each movement, was a calculated effort to push you closer to the edge. Every nerve in your body was on fire, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak.

As if his ministrations weren't enough, he began alternating between fingers, grinding up against your g-spot with this rhythm.

Middle. Ring. Middle. Ring. Middle.

You were unraveling in your husband's hands, gripping the bedsheets beneath you as you clenched around his fingers. "Ken, c-close," was all you could manage, teetering on the edge of bliss.Your body was a live wire, every nerve ending alight with sensation. The alternating rhythm, the pressure, the heat of his breath—all of it was too much and yet not enough. You could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, ready to snap. "Please," you whimpered, your voice barely audible. But Nanami was relentless, his fingers never faltering as he pushed you further and further towards the edge, savoring every moment of your unraveling.

"Don't worry," he started, never relenting from his movements. He was attacking your most sensitive areas, and he was so calm about it. "Just a little more, and you'll be all better, sweetheart," his breath fanning against your heat. His blonde hair was still well-kept, while you were a naughty, trembling mess below him.

You could barely think, let alone speak, as rushes of pleasure coursed through your body. Every touch, every whisper from him felt like a promise of the ecstasy to come. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and desire. "So beautiful when you're like this." You were completely at his mercy, and you loved every second of it.

"G-gonna cum, Ken!" you shouted, your voice rough and strained. He grinned, never ceasing his movements. He knew you were close, knew your body like the back of his hand. The way your hips jerked and your calves tensed were clear indicators. He was always such a perceptive husband.

"That's it, sweetheart, let go," he urged, adjusting the chest piece just enough to push you off the edge.

Your high hit you like a tidal wave, leaving your entire body rigid with pleasure. It was just so overwhelming, so incredibly good. Nanami was just too good to you.

As you slowly came back to yourself, it took a full five minutes to regain any sense of consciousness. Your vision was still blurry, and you could barely focus on anything around you. Every muscle felt like jelly, utterly spent from the intensity of the climax. Nanami's touch lingered on your skin, soft and loving.

"Are you alright, sweetness?" His voice was both full teasing and genuine concern. Always so kind. Oh, he didn't know just how much of an effect he had on you. You managed a slight smile, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah, just... wow," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"Good, because I have more tests to run," he said with a grin.

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[sanemisstalker]

Incel! Gyutaro, but it's a modern western college! au and you whip him into shape real fast. My ex won't talk to me, so I'm very much fantasizing about a man that will be obsessive over me ---> gyutaro NSFW

CW// Fem reader / AFAB genitalia / Breasted Reader / INCEL MENTALITIES : Sexism, Poly Hate / BDSM dynamics/ Implied ED (Gyutaro is a gym junkie who should definitely be eating more) / SH / Men's Mental Health / Inconsistent POV because I'm writing this with my hand down my pants (I am joking)

PART TWO <-

-You go to community College with him. He's some fucking dude in your necessary math course they wouldn't let you drop. He sits next to you in the booths.

-He's not awful looking. He's got some weird scars across his face, but like, they're kind of artsy. They add a flare the guy would be lacking otherwise.

-His vibe is a little... weird. He doesn't talk in class ever. You see him around campus and he doesn't seem... at all versed in social interaction. You once watched him get into a fight, which was a little sexy, but since it was with Tengen Uzui, your eyes were much more interested in the latter.

-Gyutaro is used to that though. Never being the one looked at. Typical of women like you. You're always frothing at the mouth over fucking Chad's like Tengen- He got it. Tengen was built, strong jawed, and just reeked of sex appeal wherever he walked. He always had the glaze of one of those five sluts he hung out with on his lips-

-Tengen was lucky. He's apparently been training since he was young- to look like a Greek God and all. Gyutaro spent the first years of his life fighting to survive in a hospital, and then every year after fighting to live in his home safely.

-and girls like you- sluts like you were always going to favour Tengen. Always assholes.

-After that fight, you began speaking to Gyutaro. You didn't come onto the topic immediately- you didn't want to pry- So You'd mention his shirt.

-'Is that Death Cab For Cutie?' His heart dropped when you spoke. He didn't even register you were talking about his shirt.

-'Are... Are you talking to me?' He'd croak. His voice was quite nice. Soft, but low.

-'Yeah- Your shirt? That's... That's death cab for cutie, right?'

-'Y-Yeah.'

-As classes rolled by, you came to understand that Gyutaro was a very... disturbed individual. Aside from being generally jumpy and odd, his moral opinions specifically toward women were less than desirable.

-You came to know of his opinions toward Tengen as well. The level of insecurity dripping from every word was palatable... even through the venom.

-He called women 'femoids' and constantly tried to express that Tengen had been given a bigger genetic stick in life. You could never decide if he was referring to Tengen's dick or not.

-You were different, though, He'd assure. You always got what he was saying. Even if you were just letting him mindlessly ramble about his awful, borderline questionable mentalities.

-with said mentalities, you began to realize that Gyutaro was a very easy man. An incredibly easy man. Who was incredibly attracted to every woman he met- but especially you.

-'Gyutaro, have you ever slept with anyone?' You'd ask one day, on the way to the cafeteria. On the few days he chose that over the gym, he'd walk with you. You worried about him, occasionally.

-The question would visibly startle him.

-'I-No. I'm - ha- I'm not... Why?' He'd cut over his own words, face burning.

-'Just curious. You seem all cool, like you get around.' You'd melt a little at that prideful look on his face. How absolutely smitten.

-Maybe the power went to your head, but you began to seek little moments of affirmation from Gyutaro. You'd bend over, a little too close to him- The chronic porn addict. Knowing what it did to him.

-You'd always compliment his shirts- All of his bands incredibly main stream despite his insistence that they weren't.

-You remembered the noise he made when you grabbed his arm in class, once. The teacher had decided to round up the class grade- just barely passing you- and you turned and clung onto his arm, and it was almost like he choked.

-'Hey, Gyutaro, can I come over and study?' You'd pose one day. His face would turn red, a hand flying to his scarred wrist. He itched the skin off- almost always raw.

-'To my- my dorm?'

-'Mhm.'

-'My room isn't-' He'd pause. 'Why? What do you want?' His emotions would flit, unsure of your reasoning. You'd roll your eyes.

-'To hang out? You know? On the one night a week we don't have homework?'

-'Aren't you going to go... party? You do every other weekend.' You found the tang of malice on his tongue adorable. Irritating, but adorable.

'One, I don't party every week. Two, I think you'd be fun to hang out with. What, am I not pretty enough to bring back to your roomate? Am I not allowed in the great and powerful lord Gyutaro's room? ' You'd taunt.

-'N-no. You're pr- no I-'

-'Cool! You live in the good dorms, right?'

-Gyutaro did live in the good dorms. He was also very lucky to be in a one man dorm. Apparently his old roomate, Akaza, had moved out to join a frat.

-Not that you could tell it was a good dorm. The thing was filthy. It smelled like hell, too. Like Gyutaro.

-'I'm sorry for the mess.' He'd grumble. 'I get really busy...'

-'You're fine. Are you a PC gamer?' You'd point to his massive set up.

-'Y-yeah.'

-'Thats cool- ooooh, a Scott Pilgrim poster. I love that movie.' God, you just knew everything, didn't you? All the things girls weren't supposed to like. Gyutaro had been fantasizing about this very moment since you bothered to open your mouth at him. He guessed his work outs had been paying off.

-'Yeah its a good comic, too.'

-The conversation would sway too and frough. Not every really finding a groove. A girl in his room, and he could barely speak to her- you decided to take drastic measures.

-'Hey, Gyutaro, do you want to like do something? Like... a game.' You'd ask, turning to face him.

-'I- um- I have some two players-'

-'Not a game like that.' You'd laugh. He'd quirk an eyebrow. 'I'm like... horny. Like a party game'

-If you'd suddenly fired a gun next to his ear, the effect those words had on Gyutaro would've been the same. He gaped at your bluntness.

-'You're horny?'

-'Yeah... I want to do something... Dirty, I don't know.' You jerked the air off.

-'A-are you gonna leave?' He'd ask, sounding pathetic. 'Do you need me to leave?' What a dumb question, he realized, the second it left his mouth. This was his home, why would he let you jerk off-

-'Do you want to watch? It'd be rude to make you leave.' You completely understood the absurdity of the words coming from your mouth. Every word made Gyutaro's face twist into something akin to... excited disgust. It was fascinating.

-'W-watch?' He didn't understand why he stuttered so much around you.

-'Yeah... Watch? We don't need to like- play like... strip poker or anything. I just want to do something raunchy.'

-'We-we're not dating. You should do that with your boyfriend.'

-'Gyutaro, you know I don't have a boyfriend.' You'd remind. 'Are you scared?'

-'I'm not scared- I-'

-'We're adults. We can do what we want.' His traditionalist mindset was wanning by the word. He wanted you something awful, and here you were, offering to... touch yourself infront of him-

-He'd been leaning on his bed, and you began to creep forward.

-'Do you have any toys?'

-'You mean like vibes?' If his voice wasn't cracking, it was dry. Painfully so. 'I-'

-'Any you haven't put in you?'

-'I'm not into that.' He'd defend. A lie. A painful lie at that. 'I-'

-'Into what?' You'd bring your hand toward the edge of his shirt. He'd begin shaking under your touch. 'No bandaids over your nipples?'

-You'd been so kind and casual to him thus far. Always appreciating his bands and asking about his games. You're eyes had never even fixated on his birthmarks- He never expected you to actually like him-

-'I-I'm not some... some freak.'

-'You think I'm a freak for being into that?' His heart would ache at the sigh in your voice, guilt growing in his stomach as your hand left. 'Sorry, I guess I'll just go back to my dorm.'

-As you turned to leave, Gyutaro would scramble off the bed, eyes blown wide. His foot would knock into an empty can on the floor, and He'd probably tip over some of the comics on his nightstand.

-'Wait-wait!' He'd step over a pile of clothes, and begin rummaging around in the drawer behind his bed.

-His thin hand would come back with a small pink vibe- attached to a thin white wire. You could barely fight back the evil grin on your face as he resurfaced, face just as pink as the vibrator.

-You feigned needing help onto his bed, just so he'd pick you up and set you there. His tenseness was comedic. As you fully situated yourself, Gyutaro just stood, hands in his pockets-

-'Well, come on?' You ushered, nodding to the space between your legs. Gyutaro looked to the spot and then back to you.

-This couldn't be real. You couldn't be fucking real. Even as you spread your legs infront of him, revealing your dripping fucking pussy-- it could not be fucking real. It was too pornographic. You couldn't be serious- Any second you'd snap your legs shut, realize how fucking disgusting he was- how worthless and weird- and you'd spit on him, get up, and leave-

-But you didn't. You pressed the vibe to your clit and Gyutaro watched in awe as your pussy clenched around nothing. Begging, pleading for a cock to fill you, just like all the forums said it would.

-You swore you heard him whimper- gasp- Feeling all powerful under his watchful eye. You were very pleased to find he was bulging through his sweats, a small wet patch already forming.

-He wouldn't be able to get over how fucking wet you were. How good your pussy responded to the vibrations, how good you looked when you craved dick-

-'You should... Your hard on looks like it hurts.'

-Fuck, everything hurt. Your voice made his balls ache, begging for release. He didn't want to cum so early- Didn't want to be a minute man infront of you.

-You wanted him to cum early so bad. His dick had already soaked through his sweats with pre- you knew you could get him worse.

-'Gyutaro, can you- Can you finger me?'

-So fucking cruel. So fucking evil-

-You knew he'd be no good. Too rough and fast, but to your surprise, he shook his head. Very admant.

-'Why not?'

-'I- my hands are gross.' He'd whisper. The poor thing sounded close to tears. He wanted to finger you so bad, but he was all to aware of the cracks and scabs along his knuckles. 'I don't want to get you dirty.'

-'Do you have gloves?' You were surprised by the desperation in your own voice. Fuck.

-'L-like latex?'

-'Mhm'

-Gyutaro had cleared the bed and rush to his bathroom, yanking the gloves from the medicine cabinet. You heard the faucet start, and then a crash and a bang-

-And then Gyutaro was back infront of you, one hand covered with a glove. And he smelled like cologne. You held back a laugh.

-He shivered at the way your pussy sucked his finger in. And then a second not even a minute later.

-'It hurts... You should get on top of me. It'll help.' You reasoned.

-Gyutaro watched you with wide eyes as he bent down next to you, the curve of his wrist allowing him to begin an all too gentle thrust into your pussy.

-His face was right by yours, drinking in the sight of you growing heavy eyed and huffy with awe.

-He picked up his speed. Fuck- you were a real doll, alright. So fucking perfect. All for him. All his- you were his, he decided, deluded by the intimacy of the situation.

-You weren't going to be allowed to go anywhere with any other man- ever again. Nobody else could see this. Nobody was going to see you cum other than him, make you cum, other than him.

-'You keep going just past it-' You'd groan with frustration.

-'Past- What?'

-'I need you to- my g-spot you keep hitting everything but it-'

-His face would turn bright red at the critique.

-'Your g-spot?'

-'Of course you wouldn't know what that is.' You'd snark, reaching down to grab his wrist. His jaw would tighten as you began to guide his hand in and out of your pussy, back arching as he grazed a textured part of your walls.

-He felt like a dildo, an object for you to chase your high-

-Gyutaro came before you, his free hand rushing to try and prevent it, but you'd feel him shiver and hear a soft-

-'Fuck- fuck!'

-And you' look to see a wet patch on the crotch of his sweats. It looked like he pissed himself, the stain starting at least midway down his thigh-

-You imagined such a gigantic load being forced past your cervix. His cock had to be huge- fucking huge- with enough cum to spill for days after.

-'I'm-I'm cumming-' You'd squeak as the vibrator paired with Gyutaro's shame sent you spiraling. His head would snap up to watch-

-You'd leave with nothing but a thanks, and a small comment on how he needed to clean his room - The look of shock on his face borderline second orgasm worthy- He'd already gotten hard again. He wanted to go- wanted you.

-But he'd get a text from you later that night. You'd be at a party- like he knew you were supposed to be.

-'Lol' would accompany a photo of you in a slutty little dress next to Tengen Uzui and those three bimbos always by his side. It would dock his confidence, send him spiraling- panicking-

-But it'd be there...a thin little wire peaking out from between your thighs.

-You'd send him your address and hope he'd have the balls to do something about it.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[11:04 pm]

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)

This was likely the best concert you'd ever been to. It was lively, fun, and the best time you'd had in a while. And you're an idol! You sang along to all the songs and danced with little to no worries in the world.

The next song started, a familiar beat started, your favorite song. You turned to Jaehyun excitedly squealing as the instruments started up. He smiled at you brightly, nodding his head along with the music.

“Ooh, don’t we look good together?” Bruno Mars started singing.

You raised your arms, swaying side to side, singing along without a care in the world. This night had been amazing. Ever since becoming an idol, there had been very few times where you felt free out in public. You always felt like you had to lol over your shoulder, be proper, and on your best behavior in case something got you in trouble.

There were always cameras pointed at you, but not tonight. Bruno Mars had a running habit for his shows which worked out great for you as an idol, your boyfriend who was an idol, and other celebrities who very rarely got to be out in public without the fear of a camera on them. You and Jaehyun were lucky that both your companies supported your relationship, but that didn’t mean all fans did. Even though your relationship was confirmed, you and Jaehyun very rarely went out publicly just for your own comfort. The lack of cameras and phones at this camera made it all the more exciting on top of the fact that you both loved Bruno Mars.

The cameras around the venue jumped around to different people in the audience as the song went on. “Fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine,” Bruno sang.

The band paused, “I said fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine.” The cameras jumped to a couple, as the woman was pulled in and given a kiss. You hadn't realized the cameras were going to jump around the audience and show the fellas grabbing their ladies.

“Let’s try this again, fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine,” Bruno Mars sang again. Before you could even process the image on the screen you felt Jaehyun wrapping his arms around your waist before dipping you back into a kiss. You laughed loudly, cupping his cheeks before placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

You stood upright, just catching the screen showing the two of you before switching to another couple as the line repeated once more as the song kept going.

You and Jaehyun danced the night away with each other, singing at the top of your lungs without a worry in the world. It hadn't even crossed your mind that surely people, fans of either you or Jaehyun, might break the rule of no phones and catch sight of you.

When you were both in the van ready to head home, the serotonin boost dropping to a tired calmness. Jaehyun let out a laugh, leaning over to show you his screen. Someone had captured the entire video of you and Jaehyun from one of the big screens. You could see the dazzling smile on Jaehyun's face and the look of surprise on your face as he dipped you back. You had been so in the moment that you hadn't even heard the sharp rise in cheers and volume when you and Jaehyun appeared on the screen.

It was a cute video and you were glad someone had captured it. Scrolling through the comments, it looked like people agreed. The video had been posted almost an hour ago and already had over 100 thousand reposts. You were even trending! Some people in the comments even admitted to not knowing who either of you were but wanted to become fans.

You handed the phone back with a smile, "someone said that if I ever get tired of you, they'll take care of me. They offered to take care of all my plants while I'm away and make me dinner every night."

Jaehyun playfully rolled his eyes, "most of the comments were about you. I forget how much the internet adores my girlfriend."

[the-kr8tor]

Hi! I've just got back to ATSV and your Hobie fics made me felt like a school girl giggling to myself 😭🤍

I don't know if you still open for request but you may ignore if you feel uncomfortable!

I was thinking about long distance relationship with Hobie, maybe they met in some dating app ( I know this felt weird but like imagine him being bored and randomly download it for fun but then met the love of his life lol )

And one day Reader decided to surprise him on one of his concert 👀

Aww you're so sweet! Thank you so much! I hope you like this, sorry for the wait ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw blood, band au, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

When your long distance partner said that he's in a band, you never expected that he's in one of those bands that plays in sold out venues. Granted that the concert also has other bands playing on the same day in different schedules, nonetheless his band is the one that's headlining the entire charity event. The venue is open air, trees lined around the park with dozens of booths selling merch, and overpriced burritos. At least the free water makes up for the expensive food and the long lines to the port-a-potty.

People are all dressed up for the event walk past you, they're in a complete ensemble, spikes, knee high boots, fishnets and hair that is taller than the luggage you're lugging around. It's safe to say that you stick out like a sore thumb in your comfortable airport clothes. If not then all the stares you're getting is because you have a huge bug on your face or something on your teeth. Maybe you should've gone with your original plan of waiting outside his houseboat like a creep.

You exhale, gathering your courage just like back when you were buying the plane ticket to Camdem. Clutching your bag tightly, you head off to the baggage lockers on the side to drop off your weekend bag before showing your concert ticket to the tired employee.

With a few flight delays on your belt, you were afraid that you'd miss his set. But lo and behold, the second you stepped foot inside, the loud booming speakers are announcing his band. You make your mad dash towards the front of the stage, excitement and trepidation fueling you while you practically squeeze yourself in between the growing crowd. After a few apologies to some people you've accidentally elbowed, you finally make it at the front with only a few bruises here and there. You don't care about the aches the second you see him appear from backstage.

Hobie, your long distance partner of two years and a half is finally in front of you. Well a few feet away from you as there's a bannister and a huge security guy guarding the fences. And yet, you haven't been this close to holding him. Signing up for a dating site wasn't your greatest moment but you're glad you did, if you hadn't, you might've not met the love of your life. You're also glad that his friends dared him into signing up, you feel incredibly lucky that the stars aligned for the two of you to meet.

His band waves to the crowd, faces you've come accustomed to whenever he brings you (his phone while you video call him) to band practices and hangouts throughout the years. Dare you say that they've become your friends too, if not for them encouraging you to finally buy that ticket to surprise Hobie, you wouldn't be standing here with your hands gripping tightly on the railings.

He looks amazing under the bright lights, the spotlight highlights all his best features. Clad in leather, spikes and metal, seeing him behind your phone screen doesn't prepare you for the real thing.

With stars in your eyes, you grin widely. Yet you don't call for him so you don't distract him. Instead, you listen to the first song as Hobie plays a familiar guitar riff. You unabashedly ogle him while you listen to the song you've personally seen the development of.

Sweaty, eyes strained to see him through the spotlight while your ears ring— you probably don't look your best while the crowd pushes the fences wildly. Maybe you should've thought this through, or at least wore something nicer.

Hobie still hasn't seen you amidst the crowd. Continuing to jump and somersault effortlessly around the stage while fans scream and screech his name out. You once again stick out like a sore thumb while you stay in place when everyone else is jumping up and down to the beat. Seeing the lone anomaly, Hobie shields his eyes from the lights to get a good look at the supposed disgruntled fan. He never expected to see your face, his heart feels like it stopped for a second, he tumbles towards a wire that trips him and in turn launches him towards a small amp that also trips him and makes him land flat on his face. If not for his quick reflexes, he might've broken his nose on stage.

The crowd makes an empathetic sound as silence spreads throughout the venue. Some reach out to him as if they would've caught him mid air, and you're one of those people. With a wince, you watch him sit up, trying his best to act cool while he's tangled around numerous wires. He looks silly and lovestruck at the same time when his eyes meet your own. Your name falls off his lips, eyes sparkling under the red spotlights.

You give him a small wave, smiling bashfully at the punk on stage. A stage hand helps him untangle himself while Ned helps back up on his feet. All the while, his eyes never left your form.

“Wanna take five, loverboy?” Ned whispers, patting his best mate on the back. “Fuckin' hell you're bleeding.” The crowd cheers as blood ebbs out.

Even with crimson flowing out of his nostril, pain ebbing through his face, he still manages to grin back at you. “Yeah, make that ten, Ned.” he clasps his hand on Ned's shoulder without leaving his eyes on you. You wink at him. “Better yet, make that twenty.”

Ned rolls his eyes, calling for the medics before gesturing towards you to come around backstage.

—

An organizer gives you a backstage pass, letting you roam around the performers area freely. You play with the lace as your nerves get the best of you. You kinda feel bad for being the cause of the delay, but when your darting eyes see his familiar silhouette, it all melts away.

“Can I get an autograph?” You say, standing under the medical tent while a paramedic tends to his bleeding nose. His head whips towards you so fast, you were afraid that he'd break his neck. “Hi, Hobie.”

A giddy grin spreads on his face, standing up from the plastic chair with tissue paper stuck up his nose. “Hello, love.”

You giggle, crossing the small distance, hands reaching to his sides, waiting for him to hold you. Hobie wraps his fingers gently around your wrists, pulling you close. Toe to toe, he guides your hands on his waist.

“You're taller than I expected.” You utter with fondness, fingers splayed over his shirt, eyes etching his face into the folds of your mind.

“You have legs, and feet attached to your legs.” He says nervously, biting his lip from grinning too widely. “You're as fit as I thought you would be.” Chortling, you pat his chest. Realizing that the tissue papers are still stuck up his nose, he yanks them away quickly, hiding it inside his back pocket as if nothing happened. “You surprised me.”

“That was very dignified of you, Hobs.”

Chuckling, he does what he always wanted to do; hide his face in the crook of your neck. “Was that a deal breaker?”

You scoff playfully, leaning into his touch as he embraces you fully, shyness melting off the both of you only to be replaced with affection. You do the same, face tucked on his neck. He smells like the perfume you sent him when he asked what perfume you always use. And in turn, you smell like his cologne he gifted you a week later.

“Nope, it actually made me more attracted to you.” You feel his knuckles trace circles around your back, nose pressed on your skin. “Sorry that I surprised you, and made you fall on your face in front of thousands of people.”

Hobie gives you a chaste kiss on your jaw before leaning away to cup your face. You feel like you're on cloud nine as he looks at you like you're everything to him.

“Nah, not even close to a thousand, lovie.” His thumb brushes along your cheeks, savoring your warmth like he always wanted to do. You smile, palms on his jacket lapels. “Y’know what's funny?”

“You landing flat on your face in front of hundreds of adoring fans?”

He pokes your side with a chuckle. “I'll never hear the end of that, huh?” You shake your head with a soft smile as he leans closer, you meet him halfway by pulling him by his jacket. “I bought a ticket to your place.” Your eyes widen, tearing up from his words. “I was supposed to fly after the concert and wait outside your flat like a bloody stalker.” Smiling, he closes the distance. “You beat me to it, love.”

“I won.” You kiss him just like how you imagined.

[binniesbooks]

halloo, I come with a request 🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️ ofc feel free to ignore it if you don't feel like writing about it or js don't like the request, that's totally OK!!

but I have been thinking about idol!soobin x fan!reader (feeding my delusions HAHAH) maybe the reader started out as a fan but at a meet and greet or something, she caught soobin's eye and then yada yada they get together !!

then, one day, y/n is on her phone and comes across an edit of soobin. ofc edits of him weren't anything new to her considering she was a fan before she got w soobin but this one caught her eye bcs it wasn't about soobin specifically but about his hands 👀👀 she saw it in a whole different light but ofc was too shy to tell soobin herself so she keeps it a secret

but then another day, in their shared apartment, reader is watching yet another edit of soobin's hands but what she doesn't know is that soobin came back earlier than usual and was right behind her, seeing the edit. that's when it clicked, why y/n was more nervous than usual these past few days, staring at his hands. and then well smut😌😌😌 (kinda mean dom soobin plsss)

feel free to alter it as u like or not do it at all HAHAHA just needed to get my thoughts out!! love yaa

-🤍

• CHOKING HAZARD

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 4.1k

pairings meandomidolbf!Soobin x subfem!reader

warnings size kink, choking, fingering, slight oral (fem receiving) unsafe sex, pet names, cum eating, creampie, slight degradation (plus if I missed anything)

faye's note TOTALLY DOWN BAD FOR SOOBIN'S HANDS THAT I WOULD GLADLY SIGN A PETITION TO START A FANDOM FOR HIS PRETTY HANDS??? GAAHHH! Anyway, although I felt like it took me decades to finish this fic, I enjoyed writing this one. Hmhmhm. 🙂‍↕️

"Girl, I swear! He was staring at you the whole time!" Your friend exclaimed on your way home after attending a fan meet event with your favorite K-pop boy band, TXT.

"Stop with your delusions, Rain," you chuckled. "Why would my bias stare at me? That's impossible," you said, scoffing at the idea your friend had been conducting on your way home.

"Oh my god, you're such a dumb Soobrangdan, I swear! You're losing your chance!" Your friend was about to burst out, lucky for you, there are only a few locals riding the bus, and they're not paying attention to your friend making a fuss.

You glanced at the photo card dangling on your bag, your bias really looks handsome. You like the other four guys, but you’re committed to Soobin. The tall guy gave the cute yet sexy and hot aura. His bunny smile and pretty face made you fall for him over and over again. --- You we’re a total simp for Soobin.

"Here! Look! MOAs are uploading pictures and videos here and there. Take a look and tell me if I'm wrong!" Rain frowns. You took her phone and scrolled through the platform.

'She's so lucky! Soobin has been staring at her the whole time!'

'She's a Soobrangdan, right? How lucky!'

'Oh, to be stared at by your bias!'

'Prayer reveal, sis!'

It was true. Soobin was looking at you the whole damn time. He looks at the crowd for a second, quickly returning his gaze at you. Oh my god! What in the world have you done to be looked at like this by your bias?!

"Oh fuck, I hope Taehyun would look at me like how Soobin stared at you last time!" It's been a couple of months since the last fan meeting you attended. And this time, you are attending another fan signing event again.

You weren't expecting anything at all, or so you thought. Maybe, deep inside, you're expecting Soobin to recognize you from the crowd. For him to look at you the same way he did last time.

"You're the one who gave me the crocheted KARA lightstick last time, how could I forget you?" Soobin's bunny smile flashed right in front of your face. His big hand is almost covering your tiny ones.

You were giggling the whole time. His hand envelopes yours. He even held your wrist in an almost teasing manner as he compared your size difference. Soobin couldn't stop smiling either. He adores how your hand fits perfectly on his. How the size of your ring finger is the same size as his pinky finger.

And just before you move on to the next member, he sneakily wrote something on the album he was signing.

"I really recognize you, y/n. I hope we can see each other more often," he whispered. "And... don't let anybody touch this album aside from you, yeah?" He smirks as he slides the signed album towards you.

You went home in a dazed state. Your friend couldn't even talk to you properly, frustrated she just shut up. You weren't saying anything aside from the constant "huh?" and "mhm!", while you were clutching the album against your chest tightly.

After doing your nightly routine, you jumped on your bed. The white and orange-colored album caught your eye as you quickly got up and grabbed it.

Sniffing the album, you slowly turned every page. Admiring every beautiful face on each page. Until you saw his picture near the middle part—it was Soobin's picture.

'Hi pretty, call me if you're free.' was written on the edge of the page along with a phone number. Your jaw dropped to the floor, confused and baffled.

You were expecting something more like a sweet message or such, not a 'call me' note.

Yet you found yourself dialing the number written on the page of the album.

"H-hello?" You muttered when you heard a deep breath on the other end. "I-is this Soobin? Choi Soobin?" You were practically biting your nails while muttering the words carefully. What if it's just a bluff?

"Y/n?" the voice answered. Alas! It was Soobin!

"H-hi! I... I'm... I just--"

"Calm down, sweetie," Soobin chuckled.

You took a deep breath and whispered a soft hi. Soobin hums as an answer. The call was short, because Soobin was busy with his schedule. Well, that one-time call already meant a lot to you, who are you to complain?

A couple of months later, TXT organized another fan signing event for their comeback stage. This time, it was a lot bigger than the other. This time, thousands of people are expected to participate. And once again, you and your friends were lucky to acquire the VIP ticket.

It was a crisp autumn evening, and the anticipation in the air was electric. Fans from all corners of the city had gathered for the long-awaited fan meeting of TXT, their favorite boy band. Among the thousands in attendance, you found yourself at the front of the stage, heart racing as the boys took their places.

As the event kicked off, Soobin scanned the crowd, his gaze dancing over faces filled with excitement until it landed on you. You felt your cheeks flush, unsure if it was the light or the warmth of his gaze that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as his eyes locked onto yours, a playful smirk breaking across his face. You quickly looked down, too shy to hold his gaze any longer, but not before you noticed the playful glint in his eyes.

“Who’s ready to have some fun?” Soobin called out, his voice laced with enthusiasm. The crowd erupted in cheers, but all you could think about was that moment of connection. As the various activities unfolded—games, Q&As, and performances—you couldn’t shake the feeling that Soobin’s eyes kept drifting back toward you.

During a particularly lively segment, he started to walk toward the edge of the stage, playfully teasing the fans. You held your breath, half-expecting him to call someone else into the spotlight. Then, without warning, he pointed directly at you. “You! Come here!”

Your heart stopped. “Me?” You stammered, disbelief evident on your face as you made your way to the front. The crowd parted with laughter and cheers, urging you on. With each step, the adrenaline surged, and by the time you stood before him, your heart was pounding furiously.

“Hi! What’s your name?” Though his eyes were actually screaming, he knew your name, leaning closer, his warm smile making it hard to concentrate.

“Uhm, it's y/n," you managed, your voice barely audible above the loud cheers around you.

“Well, aren’t you brave?” He said with a playful wink. “I have a feeling you’re going to be my favorite fan tonight.

”You couldn’t believe it—he was flirting with you right there in front of everyone! The other members laughed and encouraged him, but he didn’t take his eyes off you. As the event progressed, he kept making lighthearted jokes, steering the attention back to you each time.

When the event ended, he stepped down from the stage and walked toward you. “You know,” he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear, “I think we should hang out sometime. I’d like to get to know you better."

Your breath caught in your throat as the other members around you gasped. Was he really asking you out? “Are you serious?” You asked, trying to mask the disbelief with a teasing smile.

"Absolutely,” he smiled back, mischief dancing in his eyes. “What do you say? Just us, away from the cameras and crowds?”

After exchanging contact information with a heart full of hope, your night wrapped up, but that was only the beginning. Over the next few weeks, Soobin kept his promise. Text messages turned into phone calls, and soon enough, the two of you were meeting in secret cafés, parks, and even sharing ice cream on chilly evenings. Each moment together deepened the bond you were forming.

Dating someone like Soobin wasn’t without its challenges; the scrutiny of being in the public eye weighed heavily on both of you. But amidst the noise, you found solace in the quiet moments—the way he would listen intently as you spoke, the laughter you shared over inside jokes, and the warmth of his hand finding yours.

One night, while walking beneath a canopy of stars, Soobin gently squeezed your hand and said, “I never expected to find someone so genuine in this crazy world. I’m really glad you caught my eye that day.”

With your heart racing, you looked up at him, his face lit with anticipation. “I'd never imagined myself dating you, Soob, I even thought you're joking. But... You’ve changed my life in ways I never could have imagined. You made me love life even more,” you sighed.

In that moment, the world faded away, leaving just the two of you standing under the sparkling sky, two hearts dancing to a rhythm that felt undeniably right.

"Were you watching edits of me again?" You were startled from where you were sitting when Soobin spoke.

"Oh my god, Bin! At least announce that you're home, else I’ll end up dying young," you joked, your hand still on your chest.

Soobin chuckled, planting a kiss on your forehead, "I did, sweetie. Maybe you're just too focused on what you were watching that you didn't even hear me. What if it's not me? What if it's a killer or a thief?" Soobin pouts as he melts into your arms.

"What the hell are you saying? Do they have the house key?" Your eyebrows raised into a frown and Soobin pouted.

It's been only 3 months since you started officially dating him, yet you knew almost everything about him. You're too familiar with when he's stressed out, or when he's angry, or when he just wants to be clingy.

One typical Saturday afternoon, while the sun was casting a warm golden hue across the room, you sat on your bed, scrolling through social media.

You found yourself watching a short video clip that featured your boyfriend in a relaxed interview setting. He was gesturing with his hands, those long, slender fingers of his gliding through the air as he spoke animatedly about his passion for music. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest as you admired his natural charisma. You had always found him attractive, but something about his fingers today set your imagination racing.

The way he drummed his fingers on the table, or how he would push his hair back while speaking, was captivating. You leaned in closer, your face flush with warmth, almost forgetting the world around you. The clip had sparked a whirlwind of fantasies in your mind, and you lost yourself in thoughts of how his fingers might feel on your skin, exploring and teasing.

Just as you were about to replay the video for the third time, you heard a soft click at your door. Your heart raced as you quickly looked away from your phone, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

To your surprise, it was Soobin himself, looking casual yet undeniably cute in his oversized hoodie. “Hey, i'm home,” he said, a playful smile spreading across his face. You froze, phone still in hand, the video still playing in the background as your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

“What were you watching?” he asked. You felt your throat go dry, words barely finding their way out. “Um, just a… a video,” you stammered, avoiding his gaze.

He stepped closer, his curiosity piqued. “Oh really? Is it something interesting?”

For a second, you thought of showing it to him, telling him about it, yet you shut it off and brushed it all aside.

"W-what do you want for dinner?" You muttered, shoving your phone in your pocket.

"Don't cook tonight, I booked a restaurant." Soobin smiled, shrugging off the matter that was the video on your phone.

You took a quick shower, picked some nice casual clothes, and took his hand in yours, walking hand in hand once again.

Soobin makes a joke about you might be cheating on him and that you're hiding something from him. But of course, you showed proof you didn't do anything of the sort.

Dinner went well. Aside from some pair of eyes probably boring holes in your skull, Soobin made you comfortable nonetheless. You had a good time with him again, after a while of being busy with his hectic schedule.

The next day, Soobin went out earlier than usual. They were called in for a sudden meeting for their upcoming shoot.

You were enjoying your time alone. Baking some goods for him to taste when he gets home. Cleaning and rearranging the house stuff for a cleaner and cozy space. You even changed the curtains, the sheets, the pillowcases, and the blankets.

After a whole day of cleaning, you sat down on your usual spot on the sofa, turning on your phone to consume some entertainment. You found yourself searching for the clip you had watched yesterday.

And once again, it made your head spin. His long and slender fingers look so pretty. His huge hand made you think about something unholy. Your fingers slowly digging into the soft pillow, your thighs rubbing against each other.

His eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “My fingers? What about them?”

You jolt up from where you were sitting, quickly shutting off your phone and shoving it face down on the couch.

"H-hey! Y-you're phone--- I mean home!" you exclaimed, quickly hitting your head and cursing yourself for messing your words up.

You felt your face grow even warmer, heart racing. The heat of embarrassment surged through you, but there was something unmistakably thrilling about his interest. Soobin tilts his head to the side, curious of what that was all about.

"They’re just… really nice,” you finally admitted, barely above a whisper, a mix of shyness and audacity washing over you.

Soobin’s smile widened, and a glimmer of something playful sparked in his deep-set eyes. “Nice, huh? I guess there are worse things to be complimented on.” He took a step closer, invading your personal space, making you acutely aware of how your body responded to his proximity.

You could feel the coldness of the concrete wall seeping through your thin shirt and kissing your warm back.

Suddenly, the air was thick with tension, a magnetic pull drawing you toward him. He leaned down slightly, tilting his head, his gaze locked onto yours. “You know, I can show you just how nice they are…” His voice dropped to a whisper, the teasing lilt sending shivers down your spine.

Without thinking, you leaned forward, and the space between you collapsed. The spark ignited, and Soobin captured your lips in a soft, tentative kiss. It was electrifying, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

As he pulled back, you gasped at the intensity of the moment, still dazed.

"Are you okay?” he asked, a mix of concern and mischief playing on his features. You nodded, your heart racing. “I think so… I just never imagined…”

“Neither did I,” he interrupted, his fingers brushing against your cheek, a subtle caress that felt intimate and exhilarating. “But sometimes, the unexpected can lead to something amazing.”

Before you could process it, Soobin pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again, this time more passionately. Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you melted into him. You could feel his warmth radiating off him, igniting an undeniable fire within you.

As the kiss deepened, his fingers moved down your arms, tracing patterns that sent jolts of electricity through your body. You pulled back for a moment, eyes searching his. “Are you sure about this?”

His playful grin returned, and he nodded. “If you're down, I'm down. Who am I to decline? Besides, I think you need me," he chuckled as he gripped your waist.

With a rush of adrenaline, you surrendered to the moment, letting go of your shyness and embracing the connection between you. It was as if nothing else mattered; the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this shared sanctuary of desire.

The afternoon melted into an evening of exploration and passion, every soft touch and lingering kiss drawing you closer. Soobin’s fingers, the very ones that had ignited this whole encounter, explored your skin like an artist painting a masterpiece, each stroke igniting flames of longing in their wake.

"S-soobin," you choked out.

"Yes love? I'm here. I'm still here," he muttered, kissing your neck. He then pulled away and grabbed your arm, sniffing your wrist. "You smell sweet and amazing, did you take a bath already?" he asked. You simply nodded, pulling your hand away and wrapping them around his waist.

"Bedroom? I think I really need you right now," you bit your lower lip as you look up at him.

"You do?" Soobin taunts, lifting one of his hands, gently rubbing your lip. He pulled your lower lip down with his thumb. "I don't know what I could do to you. Your tiny body looks so frail and fragile compared to me."

"Please, need you..." Your eyes pleading to the tall man, rubbing your thighs together, wanting to finally feel him.

Soobin carefully wrapped his hand around your neck, slowly tightening his grip. You heard him curse under his breath when you gasped for air, clutching on his shirt. His grip easily made you lightheaded and your mind hazy. You're totally making him develop his size kink in a sexual way.

"B-bin... S-soobin..." You managed to squeak out as fat tears fell from your waterline. He pulled his hand away, and he watched you catch your breath, whimpering on his chest as you hugged him tight. Not wanting to let him know how turned on you are.

"Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, you just look... You looked so pretty when you're all drooling and crying with just my hand wrapped around your neck," he said as he hugged you back, his voice tinged with apology.

"F-felt good... Want more..." You admitted, burying your face in his chest. Soobin carried you all the way to your shared bedroom. Laying you down on the bed, carefully stripping you out of your thin clothes, and hovering above you.

"Y/n, if we don't stop now, I can't guarantee you I would be able to stop later on," he sighed, fingers gently brushing your plush thighs.

"Need you. Need you so much, please..." You begged, grabbing his toned arm. Soobin dipped his head down, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I love you, don't think that I only want your body. I love you because you are you, y/n." You weren't expecting him to spew assurance in the midst of this, especially since he was suddenly talking about your body, but it made you feel at ease for some reason.

He then grabs your hands, restraining them both with just a single hand above your head. "My hands and fingers are pretty, you say? Watch them for me, yeah?" he said as he slowly rubbed your clit.

"Mmphh!" You squirmed under him, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks.

His digits slowly disappeared in your hole as he fucked you with his fingers. Grinning widely while watching your small frame thrash beneath him.

"Say it again," he commands, "That my fingers are pretty."

"B-bin mmphh! Your fingers are--- ahh! Are p-pretty!"

"How pretty are they?" he edged, curling his long fingers inside.

"Ohh! S-so pretty w-wanna c-cum--fuck ahh! W-wanna cum on them!" You managed.

"Mhm, go ahead, do it."

With a few more pumps, you came undone on his fingers, body twitching from sensitivity. His face lit up, looking proud that he managed to make you come on his fingers. When he pulled out his fingers, they were glistening with your arousal. Sticky. Wet. Creamy.

Yet your eyes were fixed on his essence-covered fingers. It didn't escape his sight, smirking as one nasty idea came to his mind.

He shoved his fingers in your mouth, letting you taste yourself. Allowing you to suck on his pretty fingers covered with your slick. Making you play with his fingers with your warm and hot tongue.

"Damn, you look so sexy like this. If only I knew about this, we should've done this earlier," he chuckled as he swirled his fingers on your tongue.

"Do you taste good? I bet you do." He smiled before pulling his hand away from you and dipping his head on the lower region of your body. Gripping your thighs to keep them open, licking a long stripe on your dripping pussy.

Your body arched as a guttural moan escaped from your mouth. "Damn, you do taste good, should've done this to you before."

If he has long fingers, no doubt that he has a long tongue too. That he could even tongue-fuck you and would possibly make you cum again if only he stayed longer.

Soobin pulled out a pack of condoms that had been sitting in his wallet for a long time now. "What if we hit it raw instead?" His voice was joking, yet you agreed.

Soobin was packing. Girthy --- Veiny. Thick. Long.

"B-bin too b-big!" You whined. He made you straddle him, claiming he'd reach deeper inside you in this position. Not to mention the pack of condoms discarded and long forgotten on the floor.

"Baby, you can take me. I know you can. You’re doing so good. Doing so fucking good, my pretty girl." His fingers traced the prominent bulge on your tummy. "See? I'm deep inside you. In here. Look. You're such a good girl," he coos, poking and pushing at the bulge.

His lips captured yours once again. Kissing you fervently yet carefully. "You're so tiny," he giggled as he leaned back, pulling your lower lip again with his thumb. He wasn't expecting you suck his finger into your mouth.

"Dirty," he remarks, and he felt you clench around his cock.

"Fuck, you want that? You want to be called dirty? To be called a slut?” He felt you clench around his cock again.

"Angel, didn't know you're this kinky?" he chuckled. "Aside from being choked, you quite love getting degraded, hm?"

"B-bin, 's too m-much?" You whined, wanting to hide on his neck, but he insists on watching your face contort as he rearranges your guts.

"Poor baby," he coos, red cock ramming your overstimulated cunt even harder. Your wanton moans got louder and high pitched. His thrusts got sloppy and erratic.

"Fuck, won't last long, mmphh!" His head thrown back as he grips your waist, pushing your body down on his cock, slamming through your cervix.

"M-me neither, please, n-need more," you whimpered.

One of his hands flew up to your neck, restraining your lungs to acquire enough oxygen, making your mind a little hazy and your pulse throb for a bit while he shoots his cum inside you.

"Shit!" he hisses, convulsing, as he leans his forehead on your shoulder, loosening his grip on your neck. The corner of his lips curled up when he heard you panting, gasping for air, your body twitching above him as you came undone for the second time. Your boyfriend developed many kinks, after all.

He slowly pulled away, a glob of cum flowing out from your spent hole. "Let's get you cleaned up," he whispers, along with the soft kisses being planted on your temple. You shook your head and pulled the blanket over your bodies instead, hugging him tight, neglecting the sticky feeling.

Soobin then decided to rest and clean up later. He doesn't want you to be sulky and mad anyway, so he just hugged you closer to him, gently massaging your sore body.

Smiling to himself with his eyes closed after realizing something. That when he chokes you, he now knows you love it. When he shoves his fingers on your mouth, he now knows you're reeling at the feeling. When he restrains both of your wrists with just a single hand, given how huge his hand is. He might be your big, clingy baby at times, but he's a total daddy in bed. He likes to show power and dominance towards you—his pretty little angel.

@binniesbooks 2024

[aphrogeneias]

can we please hear more about rockstar!eddie and assistant!reader if you’re up to writing about them? how would she (and everyone else!) react when he dedicates a love song for her on stage? is he really obvious that it’s for her or does he try and be subtle for her sake and so rick etc don’t know?

author's note: a follow up to this valentine's blurb.

“You’re gonna want to see this.”

Dustin Henderson was one of a kind.

You had little time to reminisce as the boy pulled you by the hand through the narrow corridors behind the stage — but you remembered the day he joined the crew as if it were yesterday.

The funny thing was that, when you were officially introduced, that wasn't the first time you'd seen him. He'd been around a lot, sneaking out backstage after multiple shows, despite being dragged out by security every time. The guys liked him though, especially Eddie, who'd taken a liking to the smart mouthed boy.

Reminded him of someone he knew.

After a full run of midwestern cities and smaller venues across different towns, through Eddie’s approval and promise he'd look after him, Dustin joined the crew as a roadie. The kid seemed right at home in the midst of all the chaos, and though you worried about him, you knew they got his back.

Dustin was smart, and knew what he wanted. If life on the road was what he wanted, then you'd have let him have it. You also knew Eddie wouldn't let anything happen to him, in the same way he looked out for you.

Anyone who had Eddie Munson on their corner could consider themselves lucky.

“What's going on?” You laughed, completely out of nervousness. He was taking you down the path you knew led to the stage, and you wouldn't be needed there until the end of the concert. You'd been looking at some spare equipment, taking note of what needed to be replaced, when Dustin called for you.

“You'll see!” He looked back at you, his youthful smile a beacon. “C’mon.”

He pushed you up front until you stood at the side of the stage, where Rick was already waiting for you. Your boss nodded at you, a bored look in his eyes. Your heart felt like it would pound right out of your chest, sweaty hands grabbing onto your notebook.

“What's going on, Rick?”

“I know just as much as you, kid.” He said, unamused. “No fucking idea.”

The band had just finished the second third of their set, and as the crowd roared for more, Eddie — your boyfriend, in all his glory, glowing under the attention he soaked like a sponge — addressed them.

One of the roadies came from the other side, taking his loyal Warlock away, handing him his black acoustic guitar. The machine that slayed dragons.

He'd thanked them, first, before launching into an introduction. “Uh, this one is a new one. Straight from the next album, you'll be the first to hear it. A little slower than usual, I hope you crazy motherfuckers can forgive us for that.”

The crowd reacted with a cheer, regardless.

“If you can't, well, too fucking bad.” He'd laughed, earning a cackle from Jeff right beside him. He continued, then, unexpectedly. “This one's for you, you know who you are.”

Eddie looked to the side for just one second, meeting your eyes. His own were expectant, big and bright under the spotlights, while yours remained glued to him, too shocked to form a proper reaction.

With no time to lose, the band followed into the song. A ballad, for the very first time. The lyrics were ambiguous enough, not obviously romantic, but they hit you like a bullet.

You knew. He knew you, and you knew him. There was nothing else to be said.

You'd forgotten how to breathe. Midway through the song, trembling on your feet, you looked back at Dustin, and he sheepishly looked back.

You whispered, “Did he put you to that?”

He nodded. “You're welcome.”

[hotteoki]

skz treating your skzoo plush

warnings: bullying of skzoo plushies, they deserve better 💔

notes: not proofread

©️ hotteoki | do not repost

chan (방찬)

you knew chan was THE most genuine and sweet man you've ever met in your life, you just didn't expect him to be so sweet with the wolf chan he gifted you for valentine’s day too. “oh my god you changed his clothes!” chan exclaimed, holding wolf chan up high to examine it.

“yeah! i ordered a few sets of new clothes for him, did you know how hard it was to find this one?” you grumbled. it was hard to find someone who custom made skzoo plush clothes, you were lucky enough to come across a creator on tiktok and immediately contacted them.

“he’s so cute…” chan cooed at it, stroking wolf chan’s ears gently. “i’ve got a few more clothes for him that i haven’t had the chance to change,” you held up a few small hangers that carried different plush outfits that were custom made for your special wolf chan. chan hummed, “i still think the one he’s wearing is the best.”

“you recognise it?” “course i do! it’s iconic!” wolf chan was sporting the red ‘thunderous’ outfit chan wore in the mv. “he’s so cute!” he gushed, kissing the plush. “starting to think you love him more than me,” you crossed your arms, teasing him. “baby, you’re the love of my entire life, and i adore you. but look at wolf chan!”

you couldn’t help but laugh. chan snuggled wolf chan close to his chest and closed his eyes, using it as a teddy bear. “like you don’t have the exact same one,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “but mine’s not in this cool outfit!” chan protested, grinned like a child seeing a rainbow for the first time. he just had to be so perfect, didn’t he?

minho (민호)

it was a terrible idea to leave minho sitting on your bed alone in your bedroom, with your innocent leebit sitting peacefully on your pillow by himself. you didn’t think about it much when you left to go to the bathroom, and you definitely didn’t think of how poor leebit was going to be treated by your supposedly loving boyfriend.

you came back into your room, hands still damp. amidst wiping the water off using your top, you gasped at the sight of leebit stripped of its adorable sailor outfit, a rubber band around its ears, tying them together. minho was leaning against your headboard, mindlessly swinging leebit around by its leg, acting like he's not torturing one of your most prized possessions.

"leebit!" you rushed forward, snatching the plushie from minho's grasp. he glared at you, offended, like you were the one who betrayed him. "why do you do that to my poor baby?" you asked, frowning, pulling the band off and clothing it once again. "i thought i was your baby?" minho teased, stealing leebit from your hold when he saw you struggling with the outfit.

"not after what i had just witnessed," you sat beside him, bringing your knees up to wrap your arms around your body. when leebit returned to its original look, minho tossed him away, pulling you close to him. "yah, tell me i'm your one and only," he whined, pinching your side. you sighed endearingly, "lee min ho, you're my one and only." minho gave no response and only buried his face in your neck, but you felt his widening smile against your warm skin.

changbin (창빈)

your eyes grew heavier and heavier; you were exhausted from the long week of overwhelming work. changbin had suggested the both of you to go straight to bed the second he stepped into your shared apartment and saw the tired expression on your face. you had shook your head, insisting you wanted to watch spirited away with him. neither of you have had any free time the past few days, work succumbing both of you. he had originally promised to watch a movie of your choice as soon as he got home, but that turned out to be later than he expected.

yawning, you snuggled your dwaekki plushie to your body and wriggled closer to changbin's warm body. you leaned your head against his broad shoulders, finally shutting your eyes. although your brain was sending all the signals your body needed to sleep, your thoughts were running wild and free.

you were so focused on forcing yourself to sleep you hadn't even realised dwaekki falling out of your arms and getting picked up by changbin. as you were about to speak, he sighed to the doll, interrupting you. you opted to stay silent to see what he has to say.

"yah, dwaekki, don't you find her stubborn?" you had to resist the urge slap changbin in the chest. you felt his arm that was wrapped securely around you tilt up, allowing him to brush his fingers over your cheek gently. "but that's what i like about her," he murmured, clearly not wanting to disturb you, "i just wish she could take care of herself the way she takes care of me. she's so caring, loving and just every good thing in existence shoved into one person, she deserves the world. you better not repeat this to her though, okay, dwaekki?" oh you were so in love with this man.

hyunjin (현진)

when hyunjin came out of the shower, he wasn't surprised to see you curled up on the couch, blanket engulfing you into a cocoon, your eyes fixated on the movie playing on the television, hair pushed back by your pink fluffy hairband that matched with his. he was, however, surprised to see your arms protecting little jiniret, who also had a mini hairband on its head.

hyunjin audibly gushed at the adorable sight, running over to jump on the couch, occupying the spot next to you. he placed his hand over his heart dramatically, pretending to be struck, head slumping down and squashing jiniret. "no!" you pulled the plush from underneath hyunjin’s head, earning an offended scoff from him.

“do you not love me anymore? have you ever loved me? were you just using me to get to jiniret?” he feigned a series of sobs. you rolled your eyes, stroking his cheeks gently and moving your legs to allow hyunjin to use them as a pillow comfortably. “yes, i’ve dated you for over two years just to have your doll. i’ve never loved you, it was all a lie.”

he pouted, sitting up and glaring at you, “this is an important topic, and you’re not going to take it seriously?” you leaned forward to kiss his pout, hand reaching up to lightly graze over his jawline, “i love you, so very much, hyunjin,” you mumbled against his soft lips. he smiled, resisting a love-struck giggle.

jisung (지성)

"ji!" you called for your boyfriend while walking around the dorm, seemingly unable to find him anywhere. "he's in the living room," changbin said without looking up from his phone as he passed by. you responded with a quick thanks before making your way there. true enough, there jisung was, going on his phone. he was laid horizontally on the couch, his legs dangling off the arm rest.

crawling on top of him, you laid there with him, your ear pressed against his chest, his steady heartbeat bringing a sense of calamity to you. his free hand began combing through your hair, and you sighed contentedly. “haven’t seen you all day,” you complained, moving your head to rest your chin against his body, looking up at him. jisung switched his phone off, tossing it on the coffee table, “aw, i missed you too.”

“what have you been up to?” you asked, subconsciously leaning into his hand. “well, quokka and i spent the whole day watching tiktok after chan convinced me to download it and watch some edits stays made,” he gestured at the plush that was placed beside his head. you hadn’t even noticed it. “is that my one?” you reached your hand up to collect it, noticing the outfit you bought before.

“yeah,” he confirmed. “don’t you have your own one?” it was meant to be a rhetorical question, you didn’t really mind him taking your quokka, as long as he returned it; it was one of your most prized possessions. jisung’s ears turned red and his cheeks flushed slightly, “it smells of you, and i missed you.” now you felt yourself blushing, and you hid your face in his chest, slightly embarrassed. he only chuckled, looping his arms around your frame and making himself comfortable with you.

felix (용복)

you strolled into the kitchen, hugging bbokari close to you. it wasn’t rare for you to drag the little chicken plush around, felix wasn’t always at home and bbokari provided you the comfort of him, though it was never as good as your actual boyfriend. even when felix was home, you had adopted the habit of bringing bbokari around; he didn’t mind, if anything, he found it endearing, it showed how much you love him.

your original plan was to look for a few snacks after feeling a bit peckish, but when you saw felix munching on a bag of fried chicken, you gasped loudly. the poor man jumped from fear, not hearing you come into the room. “felix lee!” you covered bbokari’s eyes, “how dare you?” his eyes widened, “i didn’t know you were in the room!” “and that makes it okay for you to commit cannibalism?!” you stroked the plush’s back soothingly, pressing his face to your chest.

“it’s not what it looks like-” felix tried to speak. “what else could it be?! how could you eat chicken in front of our child?!” he wiped his hands and mouth quickly, standing, “i didn’t mean to-” you interrupted by lowering your head, pretending to cry. this was a usual occurrence, both of you know it was all theatrics, it was just amusing to play along.

he stepped forward gingerly, wrapping his arms around your figure, bbokari in between your two bodies. felix stroked your hair, whispering apologies continuously. minho walked into the kitchen, scrunching up his face in confusion, “the hell are you two doing?” “we’re mourning our child,” felix sighed. minho stared, “you are so weird.”

seungmin (승민)

now you knew how seungmin treated his own puppym, that plush has seen things that you couldn’t even describe. on the contrary, you liked to hug your own puppym during your sleep, it was just so small and easy to hold, seungmin liked to complain about it being a replacement. normally, you never trusted seungmin with your puppym, as much as you loved him with your whole heart and soul, the man would probably throw the plush out the window just for the hell of it, so, you never let puppym out of your sight whenever seungmin came around.

you were curled up in your warm blanket cocoon, sleeping peacefully, seungmin, however, was not. he checked the clock on your bedside drawer impatiently, 2:19AM, it read. seungmin had long given up on shaking you, forcing you to stay awake with him, you had easily fallen back into your slumber each time. he grumbled; he had taken a nap in the afternoon, despite your chastising of how he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, he probably should have listened, given how awake he current was.

bored out of his mind, seungmin looked around the room for anything to pass time, and the innocent puppym falling out of your arms caught his eye. an idea popped up in his head and he caught the plush before it could fall on the ground. he began smacking the plush against your head, making sure not to apply too much force in case you could somehow get hurt from a doll. groaning, you blinked your sleep away, reaching your hand up to block puppym from being hit against your head anymore. upon realising what was happening, you slapped his hand, making him release your plush from his grip, “what is wrong with you?! it’s the middle of the night seungie!”

seungmin grinned from ear to ear, happy his attempts of waking you up had worked, “i can’t sleep and i’m bored.” you closed your eyes again, “how is that my problem?” “it’s not, but i’m making it your problem, only because i’m so deeply in love with you.” “stop trying to sway me, i’m pissed at you,” you mumbled, rolling your body away from him. seungmin leaned down to press a kiss on your cheek, “you love me too much to be pissed at me.”

jeongin (정인)

today was as usually; the two of you were cuddling, talking about nothing but also everything in general. you had your foxi.ny wrapped tightly in your arms, nuzzling your cheek into its fluffy ears every now and then. it was near midnight, but neither of you felt like sleeping yet, feeling content with your current position.

out of nowhere, as jeongin was in the middle of talking about what to eat tomorrow, he snatched your foxi.ny from your arms and continued on like nothing happened. you stared blankly at him, "excuse me?" he gave you a dirty look, like you were the one who stole his plush, "what? don't interrupt me."

you tried to reach for your foxi.ny again, failing as he held it farther away from you. "this is actually bullying," you pointed out. he only shrugged, "you looked more comfortable with it than me." you let your arm fall on his chest, "you're joking." "i'm very serious," jeongin firmly responded throwing foxi.ny away, the poor thing landing somewhere to the corner of your bedroom.

you sighed defeatedly, knowing you would never be able to get it back until the morning. jeongin only gave you the brightest smile, kissing your nose gently, pulling away with an exaggerated 'mwah'. this was unfair, how could you possibly stay mad at him when he's this cute?

[navybrat817]

Did you see the Sebastian photo with him in the leather jacket and Bucky hair? The black and white one? He looks so good!!!!!!!!

Is it the image below, nonnie? If so, yes! He looks amazing. So much that I had to share more rocker!Bucky. If not, I'm happy to receive the pic.

Everybody Wants a Taste

Pairing: Rocker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Are you really Bucky's girl? He thinks so. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, oral implied (m. and f. receiving), possessive behavior, slight jealousy and insecurity, swearing, slight feels (it's me), sort of getting together, communication is key, Rocker!Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Some White Wolf and Luna that no one asked for! This can also count for Week 4 of the @the-slumberparty for Across the Universe!❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and banner by the lovely @rookthorne . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When word got around that you were seeing Bucky Barnes, some of your friends back home told you to be careful. Not because you couldn't keep up with the rockstar, but because they didn't want him to throw you out when he eventually grew bored of you. Touching as it was, it was also insulting.

"We're having fun." you said in the group chat. "Nothing wrong with that."

"But everyone wants him!" one of them replied. "What makes you different from the rest?"

What makes you special?

"Nice fucking pep talk. Really. Appreciate the vote of confidence!" you sent.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

That was the last thing you sent in the chat.

You may have given your phone the finger, too.

As if you needed another reminder that girls, and guys, lined up to get just a glimpse of the man you somehow got to call yours. Some were better looking than you and others were nicer, but you refused to let it shatter your confidence. They didn't click with Bucky the way you did. If he woke up one day and decided he didn't want you, it wouldn't be the end of your world.

You took care of yourself long before you left home and wouldn't depend on a guy for anything. That was something you made clear when you started spending more time with Bucky. At least, you told him once you could form a coherent sentence since he fucked every sane thought out of you.

"It's okay to keep wanting me, Luna."

Being addicted to him wasn't something you anticipated nor did you want to admit that he had a hold on you. If you did, he'd have the entire deck stacked in his favor. But the cocky fucker knew he had you in the palm of his hand and you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Not when you were on your knees worshipping him like the god everyone made him out to be.

You waited for Bucky after rehearsal, knowing he could do with a bit of stress relief. Steve gave you a knowing smirk as he walked by. "Hey, baby," he teased.

“Hey, blondie,” you winked back.

"Don't call my girl 'baby', punk," Bucky said as his friend laughed.

Am I your girl?

Shamelessly allowing your eyes to roam his body as he walked closer, you wondered how he even got his jeans on some days with the heat he was packing. The rest of the band nodded to you as they passed by, knowing exactly what they'd witness if they stuck around.

"I don't remember texting you," Bucky said when he stopped, running his ringed fingers through his hair. "You don't have anything better to do than wait for me?"

Asshole. You're lucky I adore you.

Your eyes narrowed as you pushed yourself off the wall. "Plenty of other things I can be doing that don't involve you."

"C'mon, baby. I'm fucking with you," he smiled as he moved to stand in front of you. "I just figured you might be hanging out with Alice and Sunshine."

"Oh, we did each other's nails and had a pillow fight. Almost fell out of my top as I jumped around," you smiled, leaning against the wall once again.

You liked Alice and Sunshine. You'd be a bitch not to and they understood things that people back home wouldn't get. Jefferson was certainly more cheerful now that he had his girl back in his life. And Hal still adored his high school sweetheart just as much as he had the day before.

What's it like for someone to be loved the way they are?

"And I missed it? That's too bad. Didn't get a facial?"

You arched an eyebrow as he moved a finger along the swell of your breast. "How could I when you weren't there to give me one?"

"I can give you one now," he smirked.

You laughed and shook your head as you tugged him closer by his t-shirt. "I don't know if I want one anymore. I could find something else to quench my thirst."

"We both know you love the taste of my cock."

"Almost as much as you love the taste of my pussy."

He placed both hands on the wall and looked into your eyes as you bit your lip. "My favorite treat. You gonna let me get my mouth on you so I can have my fill?"

"Maybe after you fuck my throat. Maybe," you said before he brought a hand to your throat. He held it there, but didn't squeeze. "So you'd rather choke me with your hand instead of your cock?"

"Luna, baby, don't tease me."

"Isn't teasing just another form of foreplay?" you asked.

The flirty, fun banter never got old with him. Even on the days you didn't have sex, you found yourself smiling at his words and antics. It made it difficult to protect your heart. But like your body, it was yours to give the person you wanted and he had the key to the lock before you knew it.

"I want to see those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock," he stated, tightening his grip when you moaned. "Want you to choke on me before I make a mess of you."

The mere suggestion was enough for your thighs to rub together, tour panties dampening more at the thought of him using your throat to get himself off and paint your face. His thick cock filled every hole of yours to the brim time and time again, reminding you that you belonged to him. But you couldn't always give in so easily. Call it pride or a power move.

You'd both get off in the end.

"Sure you don't want one of your other groupies to suck your cock?"

Everybody wants a taste.

His smirk vanished instantly as he leaned in close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips. You didn't shy away from his gaze, captivated by the blue of his eyes. He liked that you didn't try to hide.

Caught in his trap, you couldn't duck and run if you wanted to.

"I haven't fucked anyone else in weeks," his voice dropped as he shoved his knee between your thighs without warning, your core pulsing as he brushed his lips against yours. "Thought I made it clear that you're my girl."

You swallowed hard enough for Bucky to loosen his grip. If Bucky let you in, that meant something because he didn't give himself away lightly. Sex, he could find that anywhere. Someone to stick around through the highs and lows after was another story.

One you wanted to write with him.

"You never actually asked," you said above a whisper.

It was weak to say it out loud and make him put a label on it, but you wanted to hear it.

"I didn't think I had to ask," he said, kissing the spot between your eyes with a small huff. "I thought you were already mine.”

Your stomach swirled with butterflies. "I thought you were mine, too."

"Because I am. I’m all yours," he whispered, playing dirty by rocking his knee a bit more. You were tempted to slide up a bit more and ride his thigh and weep from knowing he was really yours. "C'mon. Be mine. Be my fucking girl, Luna."

You whined when he brought his lips to yours again. You would have said "yes" regardless. "I'm your girl, but don't you dare break my heart. 'Cause I'll hunt you down and make you sorry if you do. I'll curse that glorious dick of yours, too."

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. The sound brought a smile to your face. "I'd expect nothing less. You better not curse my dick or break my heart either."

His casual tone had an underlying vulnerability that you wouldn't dare joke about.

"You're my guy, Wolfy. I won't hurt you."

And I'll be your Luna no matter what.

"Don't let anyone hear you call me that," he grinned, pulling his knee away to leave you wanting more. Tease. "I have a reputation to uphold."

You smiled as the atmosphere shifted back to the sexual charge. He didn't need to dwell on the emotions for the moment and neither did you. Your heart was full and that was more than enough for today.

"Guess you better shut me up then," you suggested as you reached for his belt.

"Oh, no. Still wanna hear you moan and whine when you take me in your mouth," he stated, stepping back so you could unzip his pants and sink to your knees. "When I'm done, you're gonna sit on my face and sing for me. Those pretty sounds of yours might inspire our next song."

"Call it 'Howl at the Moon'," you smiled up at him. "Dedicate it to me," you added with a wink.

You'd find out later that Bucky already had.

Oh, these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[beetlesau]

Bus Ride, Drabble Dabble, Bakugo/Reader

I'm obsessed with the idea that Bakugo would go feral for a woman that's as normie as his dad just because his mom CHASED his dad DOWN because she wanted him, And Bakugo is his moms twin. ANYWAY. Just messing around with a tame version of that idea. Being bored. Zero Edits, I don't even know if I spelt names correctly lol K Baaiiiii

"Why does your hair look like that?" Mineta peaked over the bus seat down at you. You instinctually pulled the collar of your shirt up to cover any cleavage that could have been showing from that view. 

You sighed, it was a common question back in school before UA. You'd been made fun of for it for as long as you could remember, but you never cared. It was your second year at UA, you'd thought someone would have said something sooner than now, but here you were. You made an obvious glance up at Mineta's purple grapelike head before bringing your attention back to his face. 

"Same reason yours looks like that, I guess. Our quirk just made us different." You looked back down to a Heroes Weekly Tabloid magazine you'd been busying yourself with prior. 

Your hair was normal, bland even, save for the bands of white that flowed down from your temples. The doctors said that when your quirk manifested, it must have put such a strain on you that your body responded in the odd way it did. The same thing happened to your eye color. You had such intense grey eyes after your quirk appeared you hardly remember the color they were before that day.  

"No I mean your haircut!" he chided. Your eye twitched before you looked up again at the pervert menace. You noticed that comment also grabbed the attention of the others on the bus. 

In the seat across from Mineta sat Ashido and Uraraka. Uraraka, who sat by the window, glowered at the boy as best as her round sweet face could. Ashido sneered and shot a glance over to Mineta's seatmate, Kaminari. A look that said, "if you don't do something, I will."

Kaminari, not wanting to have his face melted off as collateral damage, stood in his chair and turned back to face you as well. He put on his best flirty smile and propped his cheek on his fist. "I don't know, I think it looks pretty good. Edgy. Mysterious."

"Yeah, it's a mystery why she has that haircut. It's so unflattering on you! You could be an absolute ten if you'd just--"

Mina flung her leg across the aisle, shoving her boot into Mineta AND Kaminari's sides.

"You dimwitted jerks! You're lucky she doesn't have Uraraka float your two asses and hog tie you to the bus like a couple of balloons!"

"Say the word and I'll do it, girl!" Uraraka looked at you with her dusted pink cheeks. She may have been a softy but she was a ride-or-die. 

You laughed at your two best friends and shook your head no. It was alright. It wasn't anything you weren't used to.

"She cuts it herself." a gravelly voice across from you catches your attention. "Didn't you say that, like, first day of school? Do you not pay attention, idiots?" Bakugo takes one of his earphones out as he readjusts against his school bag. All the noise must have bothered him enough to chime in. 

All four members of the conversation lean out into the aisle and look back at the blonde. Did he just say he remembered some random thing someone said about themselves? 

"Oh. Right, yeah I kind of do remember that." Kaminari pulls out his phone and starts typing away like a madman. Not seconds later a couple of simultaneous dings are heard a bit further up the bus. "Uh, do you know why she cuts it herself though?"

"What's it to you dumbass? She's right there, ask her yourself." he sucks his teeth annoyed, but looks over to you. "Don't tell this shithead anything you don't want to." You smiled at him, your cheeks finding a bit of color before you turned back to Kaminari. You raised your eyebrows at him as though to say, "You heard the man."

Kaminari groans before trying a new tactic. "I mean, I already know the answer. I remember, I was just trying to see if YOU remembered. In fact, I think I probably know more about her than anyone else on this bus." he stated matter-of-factly. You looked at him with an incredulous expression before the hothead across from you spoke out again. 

"You're full of shit." he turns to you again, "You cut it that way so it doesn't get in your way! That's why it doesn't matter what the hell it looks like. You're not trying to win fuckin beauty pageants, you're trying to kick villain ass."

"What's going on, what did I miss? What was that text about?" Kirishima crouched in the aisle, looking to Kaminari for answers. 

"Kirishima, thank god! Mineta move, let Kirishima sit there, you've been a menace long enough today." Mineta checked the seat Kirishima had just come from and saw it was across from Yaoyorozu and agreed without too much fuss.

"Oh, man, you just missed Bakugo say that the lil lady back here isn't winning any beauty pageants." Kaminari slowly shook his head in mock disappointment. 

"WHAT THE HELL? DID I FUCKING SAY THAT??? YOU WANNA KEEP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH?" Bakugo shot up from his seat, sparks popping off his hands that gripped the back of Ashido and Uraraka's chair, the smell of scorched plastic permeated before Uraraka opened her window.

"It's okay Bakugo, he's just trying to mess with you. You're right though, I just hate having my hair in my eyes so I cut my bangs myself." you blow air up from your mouth and watch as the short choppy fringe fluttered about just a bit. "One of these days I'm gonna have tech support just make me a built-in headband so I can grow them out. The grow-out stage is a bitch, is all. " you laugh.

"So that's why Bakugo called you Fringe for the first year of school!" Kirishima nodded in understanding.

"Hey, Kirishima, do you know her favorite color, by the way?" Kaminari ponders dramatically. 

"Uh, It'd be a guess, but no I don't think I've ever asked--What is your favorite color?" Kirishima politely and enthusiastically requested the information from you now. 

"Oh! Well now hold on a minute, maybe we SHOULD guess it." Kaminari's words were laced with a layer of sticky entrapment but you were curious to see where he was going with all this nonsense. 

"Sure, go ahead." you shrugged. 

"Let's take turns guessing. Is it teal?" he looked at you expectantly, and you gave him a cocked side-eye. 

"No-"

"OH darn. Okay Bakugo, your turn. What's her favorite color?"

"This is stupid." he huffed

"Well if you don't know, just say so--"

"It's the same as her birthstone, jackass."

Your blush told Kaminari he was correct, or at least close enough. 

"What makes you so sure? Did she tell you?"

"Obviously it's the same as her birthstone, she has a bracelet she wears that's that color, so why wouldn't it be? It's not that hard to figure out if you weren't an idiot."

"--you know her birthdate?" Uraraka's eyes were wide and she was blushing profusely, knowing full well what was happening. 

"What's her favorite food?" Mina piped up, ignoring the subtlety that Kaminari was attempting, seeing exactly what he was trying to get from the angry blonde. 

"How the hell should I know." Bakugo sunk back down in his seat, attempting to put his dead earphones back on, conveying he was done with the interrogation. 

"Well that's a tough one anyway, I'll eat just about anything. I'm not picky." you shrugged, trying to save Bakugo from any more annoyance. 

"Psh. Yeah, but you have such an annoying sweet tooth. I swear I came down to the common area one time and you were practically scarfing down a cupcake. I thought you'd end up eating the wrapper." Bakugo interjected. 

"Oh, that's ... That's true actually!" you grinned. "Well, the sweets part. I was not going to eat the wrapper! Sato had made some for the class. Maybe if you didn't go to bed so early you could of known how amazing it was." you pouted.

"I don't eat sweets before bed, are you nuts? How's anyone supposed to sleep hopped up on sugar? I don't know how you do it." he mumbled, crossing his arms and spreading to take up more room in his seat. 

"Ah, well I suppose I do have trouble falling asleep sometimes." you considered, "I should try out your schedule for a week and see if it helps!"

"WHY ARE YOU ALL STARING? What the fuck could you all have to look at? Fucking annoying." Bakugo stopped to yell when he noticed the small group of onlookers were, well, still looking at the two of you. 

"Kaminari, he's right, you should mind your own business." Mina said as she and Uraraka turned back around to go back to their own thing. Mina turned to send you a glance and pointed at her phone, indicating you should check your phone. 

Looking at your recent messages you see one from the pinkette,

So are you going to pretend it's normal for THAT guy to know everything about you??

You bit your lip as you glanced over at the annoyed guy staring into the back of the seat in front of him. His leg was bouncing in boredom and probably irritation if you had to guess.

Mina was your best friend, but she could be a bit dramatic. 

You weren't sure you were ready to tell her that Bakugo had made it known to you that he was interested. Like, VERY interested.

And you were, less obviously, interested back. You knew his favorite food. His favorite color. He even told you things that made him feel insecure and confided his feelings about being a hero to you. 

It happened suddenly one day. You noticed him looking at you, like actually looking. He held you back after class and said your actual name and not just fringe. That was when you realized you had feelings for him. You didn't hate the nickname, and you considered yourself on good terms with him. He acknowledged your strength and treated you as an equal. But something about the way he said your name made your mind go fuzzy. It felt like you'd just woken from a dream and saw him for the first time. Were his eyes always that intense? 

"I talked to my old man the other day, and he told me some gross shit about how when he and my mom met- she pursued him relentlessly. Borderline insane is what it sounded like to me. My pop apparently doesn't have a spine and he just gave in. Whatever." Bakugo rolled his eyes before waiting for you to say something. 

"Oh! Um, I don't know, I guess I can see how that's romantic. Uh, why are you telling me this though?" you shuffled your weight from one foot to the other, noticing there was a bit too much heat bouncing off the two of you. 

Bakugo bit the inside of his cheek, taking a moment to find the wording. "I'm not crazy like that. I'm not some clone of my old Hag I just wanted to say." he lifted his arm to stretch his back, his actions nonchalant for such an odd topic of conversation. "Anyway, I waited a year is all I wanted to say, so I think I'm going to persue you now."

"Wh-what? You waited. Ah what?" you stammered, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. "W-what if I don't want you to pursue m-me?" you laughed. You were nervous. And nervous you always say something to deflect the awkward feelings. 

"I'm not very good at not getting what I want, but like I said-I'm not crazy like that old hag, I'll let you have your own say. Anyway. I'll see you later." and then he left you standing there dazed and confused. 

You looked over to him now, sitting alone in his seat. Why else would you have been sitting in the back if not because you knew he'd be back here? You smile to yourself. While this could be your secret for a little while longer you really couldn't resist after seeing his commitment to knowing you in front of the others. 

You pull out your earphones, put one ear in, and hold out the other to Bakugo, who accepts without hesitation. He shoots you a nod and pushes his bag to the floor making room for you to sit by him. 

And you do. You probably will for the rest of your life if he has his way, and you're happy with that. 

[r0se1111]

Stan Pines x Reader

Hello! I haven't posted any writing in like a month rip... I had midterms BUT I survived and have returned to bring you some angst/comfort Stanley stuff!

Also my inbox is still very much open for requests! I am itching to write but lacking inspo I would appreciate requests for any one of my fandoms!

Loosely based on this (only like the last paragraph lol). You and Stan got married when he was technically legally Stanford Pines and Stanley Pines was technically legally dead. Ford comes back and you want a divorce and to really marry your real husband. Enjoy :)

The realization that you were married to Ford hit you in the middle of a quiet night watching movies. The kids had moved back home for the fall, and you, Stan, and Ford were determined to get through a painfully poorly acted black and white horror film. You were snuggled next to Stan, your legs swung over his lap and his hand firmly and affectionately squeezing your knee, reminding you of his gentle strength that made little sparkles catch in your chest.

A flick of gold caught your interest, your eyes abandoning the grainy television screen to watch Stan's hand in its movement on your skin. More specifically, his wedding ring. The one that matched yours, a simple gold band because you thought a diamond would be too impractical (and because the two of you were dead broke when you'd gotten married). You smiled warmly and your heart filled with light and unfiltered adoration as you took one last peek at Stan's ring, then turned back to the TV, comfortable in the utter security of being his.

A soft rustling of fabric on fabric caught your ear and you saw Ford adjusting in his own seat next to you and your husband. You blinked absentmindedly as you watched him get comfortable. Then you realized. "Oh my god." You sat up and Stan's hand halted in its gentle exploration of your exposed knee.

"What? You shocked by that extremely predictable plot twist? Oh, but who could have guessed that the murderer was really the father the whole time!" Stan joked, jostling you lightly with a chuckle.

"No-I. Oh my god." You grabbed his left hand and held your own up next to it, displaying your matching rings. "Stan. We aren't married."

"What-huh? I think the last 30 years would say differently, hun." He chuckled again, but you could see a note of concern in his eyes. Even Ford had paused the movie and tilted his body towards you two in curiosity.

"I'm legally married to Stanford Pines. Because technically, Stanley Pines is dead." You clarify, looking between the two brothers and watching the gears turn. "And that worked out perfectly fine before. But now you're back and- well- no offense but I think we need to get divorced." You grimace awkwardly as you address Ford, moving to swing your legs off Stan's lap. Another thought enters your whirling mind as you turn back to look up at Stan, who looks a little like he's trying to do some very complicated mental math. "And you need to legally come back to life." You jut your finger into his chest with a pointed expression.

Stan watches your finger prod into his chest and sputters, "I can't just un-fake my own death. Why don't we just go on like we've been doin'?" He lifts his hands placatingly to you before pointing to Ford accusingly. "But you are divorcing her."

Ford flushed a little, "No problem there."

"Hey! You would be so lucky to be married to her!"

"Do you want us to get divorced or not?" Ford looked tiredly at his brother.

Before anymore squabbles could break out between the two, you interrupted with a question of your own. "What do you mean go on like we've been doing? Why don't we really get married?"

Stan's eyes darted around your face like a cornered animal and you watched him consider your words. "I just mean-" He leaned back into his seat defeatedly, "we already live together, you know how I feel, I know how you feel, what's the big deal?"

You heard Ford suck in a breath and cough something about refilling the snacks before he quickly shuffled from the room, somehow sensing the oncoming storm.

You frowned and jolted your head back a little, leaning out of Stan's space. "The big deal?" You asked weakly, the sharp sting of unexpected hurt making your voice small. "I want." You swallowed to steady yourself. "I want to marry you. You." You reached forward and took his hand with the ring, enforcing your sentiment emphatically.

Stan stared down at your hand on his, suddenly mute and devoid of his usual joking air. For a horrible moment you thought, maybe he doesn't want to marry me. Maybe I'm asking too much, maybe I'm scaring him off. You bore these doubts with shaky confidence as you continued to watch Stanley's expression, trying to read something there that would let you know all those thoughts were wrong.

His hands are trembling.

You feel it before you see it. Those big, strong hands of his, usually so firm and reassuring on your arms, knees, jaw. They're borderline quivering under your touch. "Stanley?" You all but whisper, afraid of shattering the quiet tension that filled the air.

Stan worked down a swallow before replying, in the softest voice you'd ever heard him use "You really wanna marry me?" And the way his voice croaked from his throat, the raw vulnerability it revealed in him, you physically felt your heart ache at his words.

"Oh. Oh, Stanley. You're so. I-" You took a shaky breath, maneuvering your hands to intertwine with his and provide a steady anchor. "Of course I want to marry you. I love you. I've loved you for 30 years."

Stan sniffed roughly and flickered his eyes up to yours for a moment, and you saw the conflict there. The years of self-doubt and loneliness piling up, making him think this kind of life wasn't for him. His hands moved to trace up your hands, wrists, and settle on your forearms where they flexed and tickled the sensitive skin there "You good?" You ducked your head to make full eye contact with him, hoping your expression all but radiated the love you feel for him. Hoping he could somehow feel it all just from looking at you.

He chucked wetly and nodded. "Just makin' sure you're real s'all." He squeezed your shoulders for emphasis, making you giggle. If you thought your smile to him was bright, his returning grin was all but blinding. He always loved making you laugh, turning to your joy like a sunflower to the sun.

You leaned in and kissed him softly, the way he secretly really likes it. He claims to enjoy those deep, passionate, dramatic kisses the most, but you can tell from the stutter of his hands and the hitch of his breath that these gentle touches mean more to him than he'd admit. He's starved for it. You think. I wanna give it to him, until he's not hungry anymore.

Bringing your head back, you bask in his warm gaze and take advantage of his silent state. "Stanley Pines." You reach down and work his ring off his finger, holding it up in the few inches between your faces. "Will you marry me?"

This gets you an exhale turned into a real laugh that you all but melt at, so relieved at his happiness. Stan reaches his own hand to remove your ring and holds it up next to his. "Only if you marry me too."

Giggling like a couple of teenagers, the two of you slide your rings back in place, whispering little yeses between hushed breaths and chaste kisses, as if the word is holier if only heard by two.

"Are you two decent? Please don't tell me you’re having sex on the couch." A very concerned sounding Ford calls from the kitchen, just out of view.

"No, we're both very naked and sweaty all over the family couch. Don't come in." Stan shouts back, bringing your legs back over his lap and pulling you close by your waist. You can't help the flutter in your stomach at this casual display of strength and possession, shuffling your body to get even closer to the man.

"Don't listen to him, we're fine!" You yell, holding back a giggle as you elbow Stan.

Ford enters slowly, and the relief on his face is palpable. Whether it's because you and Stan have resolved your little moment or whether it's because you are not in fact having sex on the family couch, you don't know. He relaxes back into his seat, pressing play on the remote. Things are quiet and calm for a moment and you bask in the domesticity and comfort of it all.

Then you feel Stan's hand wandering dangerously high on your thigh, circling inwards. "Stan!" You hiss, slapping his hand away playfully.

He's about to respond when Ford interrupts "Stanley, really. Keep your hands to yourself, that is my wife after all."

You smile affectionately and bite back your laugh at Stan's indignant "why yOU-"

In between squabbling words and some very rude hand gestures, you can't help but think how lucky you are to have this love, and this family, in your life.

[coffeeghoulie]

Ghostober Day #29: Phone/Video

Much thanks to @kroas-adtam for putting Ghostober together <3

Pairing: Mountain/Dew/Aether

Aether sets some rules for Dew when he goes off on tour without him. Mountain finds a work around. Inspired by this post by @forlorn-crows

Explicit, 4k. Contains possessive Aether, anal sex, masturbation, mentions of piercings, stomach bulge, begging, and aftercare.

Divider by @wrathofrats <3

Aether wakes slowly, as he always does. His bed is too empty and too cold, but he still snoozes his alarm three times before he notices he has messages. He grumbles, still half asleep, pawing at his nightstand until he finds his glasses. He unlocks his phone as he shoves them on.

It's been hard, to say the least, being without his pack and without his mate at his side. He's never been away from Dew for more than a week before. Human technology makes it a little easier, but texts and calls barely hold a candle to the bonfire that is having Dew in his arms, in his bed, at his mercy.

Aether hadn't thought it fair that Dew would be in the company of their entire pack (minus Sunny, who'd be staying behind with him), all of them in close quarters and hopped up on adrenaline and constantly, perpetually horny. Dew's loved by the entire pack, but he's Aether's before he's anyone else's.

So he'd set some rules. Dew hadn't thought they were exactly fair, but a few orgasms had changed the tune he'd been singing.

Aether had been, quite smugly, saving every picture Dew had sent him over the last few months. Various hotel rooms, his bunk on the bus, the bathrooms and showers backstage at several venues.

Dew's spindly fingers in focus. Sometimes glamoured pale, sometimes soot gray and clawed. Covered in pearly, sticky cum, sometimes even with his stiffy still in his grip, just as messy.

"If I have to get off only to the thought of you for the next few months, darling," Aether had crooned in Dew's ear the night before the fire ghoul had left for tour, "Then you can only get off to the thought of me. Nobody else, alright, love?"

And to this point, much to Aether's delighted surprise, Dew's been a good boy (He really shouldn't be surprised. He's been Aether's good boy for a very long time, and Aether's put in a lot of effort in making him a good boy). He's sent Aether a picture of every single time he's cum to the thought of his mate and his hand.

If he's lucky, if Dew has the energy and the privacy to do it, Aether gets a video instead. He's never cum faster in his own hand than hearing his mate's breath hitching, whiny begging through tinny speakers, pleading his mate to let him get off. How much he needs it. A mouth, a cock, a cunt, a hand that's not his own, fucking anything, please Aether. But Dew's always good for Aether, follows his rules to the letter.

With the timezone difference, between his pack touring and him being back at the main Abbey, Aether often wakes up to new material to hoard in his spank bank.

He doesn't have to report to the infirmary for another hour and a half; plenty of time to squeeze one out. He blinks as he puts on his glasses. To his surprise, and his half-chubbed cock's dismay, there's no new messages from Dew.

There are, however, several text messages from Mountain.

Sweet Thing <3: you asked me and cirr to take care of the pack while we're away, and he's been really worked up the last couple of days so i thought i'd take care of him.

Sweet Thing <3: don't worry, i made sure he didn't break any rules ;)

Sweet Thing <3 sent a video attachment (816 MB)

Sweet Thing <3:you know what, maybe don't watch this if you're not alone. have a good morning, nova!

Aether opens his phone, opening his messages. They're all timestamped from about half an hour ago, the middle of the night for his pack, but just before sunrise for him.

The video attachment's thumbnail is black. Aether feels his curiosity piquing, glancing around his room like anybody'd be listening in. He's probably just paranoid, the band ghoul wing pitifully empty barring him and Sunny, but he grabs his earbuds just in case. He props himself up against the headboard with a grunt, blinking the last of the sleep from his eyes as he clicks play on the video, unmuting it.

The screen is dark, the phone camera-side down somewhere. The first thing Aether hears is Mountain's voice. "Oh, come on, droplet. You won't get in trouble. I won't let you."

Aether's heart sings when he hears Dew's voice, even though it's a little standoffish, nervous. Breathy in a way Aether's intimately familiar with. "He, shit, explicitly told me I wasn't fucking allowed to, Mount."

Mountain's laughter, warm and rumbling. "There's a way around it, droplet. You needed this, and he left me and Cirrus in charge. I'm taking care of my pack. I don't care what he told you."

Aether's tail bats against the mattress, a low growl building in his throat, a completely useless threat display for someone who's across an ocean at the very moment. He's not an idiot. He knows what had been happening while he slept. His mate, underneath another ghoul despite explicit instructions. Another ghoul butting his way between them. Even if it is just Mountain.

"Are you sure, Mount?" Dew's voice sounds small, nervous. The soft rustle of fingers through hair.

"I promise, droplet."

The camera pulls back as Mountain picks his phone up, struggling to focus until Mountain manually does it. Instantly, the anger roiling in Aether's gut quenches at the sight of his mate. He's beautiful, body on full display, little obsidian horns shining, copper hair splayed out on the pillow under his head. It glints in the yellow lamplight, molten metal.

There's a blush already on his cheeks, spilling down his sternum, staining creamy pale skin. Aether's eyes rake down Dew's body hungrily. He's seen Dew, mostly just like this, through a screen, but he's greedy for every glimpse he can get.

Mountain rumbles appreciatively, tinny through the speakers, as the camera pans down to the sharp lines of Dew's hipbones. He's already ruddy and leaky, his cock stiff and shiny. Dew's fingers curl into the bedding, blinking doe-eyed up at the camera.

"Mount," he breathes, narrow chest heaving.

"Lucifer, look at you," Mountain says. Aether can't see his expression, but he knows intimately what he looks like when he's hungry with lust. The earth ghoul's even fallen into bed with the two of them, multiple times. Aether feels himself pulse in his flannel pants. He ignores it for now. Knows he's got better coming soon.

The camera shifts, Mountain nudging Dew's skinny thighs open. Even through the screen, Aether can see the glint of slick between his legs. His mouth waters, sense memory reminding him exactly what it to press his tongue to that tight little hole. He feels the jealousy reignite in his ribcage, that Mountain can, if he wants, drink from the source, while he has to settle with memory.

"So wet, Dew," Mountain groans, sliding two fingertips from his taint down to his hole, sliding in to the third knuckle with no resistance. "Tell me who got you like this."

Dew's brow furrows, confusion dancing in those candlelight eyes. He whines as Mountain's fingers don't move, just still inside of his ass. "Mount-"

Mountain tsks, pulling his fingers out as Dew reaches up to him in protest. They shine in the lamplight. "No, I didn't get you like this. Who got you like this? I know you know who did. Tell him."

Slowly, through the haze of lust and nerves, realization burns into Dew's expression. His eyes glance up to the camera. "Aether," he moans, and a bolt of heat shoots straight to Aether's balls. "Aether got me like this, I'm wet for Aether, I'm wet for you."

Aether shoves his hand down the front of his pants, giving his bulge a squeeze to ease the sudden pressure. He can't tear his eyes away from his little mate.

He watches Dew yelp as Mountain gives him his fingers back, prepping him quickly but thoroughly. Through his earbuds, Aether can hear just how wet Dew is, stomach swooping at the obscenity.

Mountain pulls his fingers out, wiping his slick onto the scratchy hotel covers. Aether almost growls at the waste, but then Mountain's cock is in frame and Dew whines, eyes wide. "Mountain," he breathes, voice hitching as he glances down.

Aether considers himself well-endowed, in the humblest way a ghoul can be, thick and heavy. But Mountain blows him out of the water, long and veiny and difficult to take on the best of days. But he's seen at least most of the prep Dew's gotten, and his fingers tense around his phone at the idea of Dew taking him like this. Carved open and used.

"Tell me what you want," Mountain says, and Aether tears his eyes away from Dew for a moment to watch the earth ghoul stroke himself, spreading what's left of Dew's slick over himself.

"I want Aether to fuck me," Dew whines, hips nudging up. His little cock kicks against his hip, smearing globs of precum into the hollow of his hip. "I want my mate's cock. Aeth, I want you."

Mountain sighs endearingly, his other hand settling on Dew's hip. "I'm not Aether, firefly, but we can pretend for now, can't we?"

Aether curses, shoving his flannel pants and boxers down, his own cock springing up and smacking against his belly before he can get his hand on it. He hisses through his teeth as he squeezes the base, and he misses what Mountain says next. A bead of precum wells up in the slit.

He watches Mountain nudge the ruddy head of his cock against Dew's taint, sliding down to his hole. All three ghouls hold their breaths.

Dew and Mountain must be having a discussion with expressions, or thoughts, because Dew nods and less than a split second later, Mountain's pushing in. Dew's face melts in pleasure, candlelight eyes rolling back into his head, mouth falling lax and open.

Aether bites his lip hard, squeezing his cock hard so he doesn't spill over himself already. A quick check reveals there's still twenty minutes left of the video. He can't cum yet. He can't tear his eyes away.

Slowly, glacially slowly, Mountain presses in. Dew takes his bottom lip between his fangs, biting down hard to hold back a mewl as his body splits open around him. His hands curl into fists, white knuckling the comforter under him. Aether tentatively starts to stroke himself just as slow.

It feels like it takes forever, but eventually Mountain's hips kiss the backs of Dew's thighs, both of the ghouls groaning as he sheathes himself.

"Fuck, nova," Mountain rumbles. "He's so fucking wet and hot. Squeezing the fucking life out of me."

Aether growls, but Mountain keeps talking. The camera focuses on where their bodies meet, and Aether can see Mountain's thighs trembling with the effort of holding still. "Fuck," he grunts, jerking himself off a little faster, pulling the foreskin back from the head.

"You doing alright, droplet?" Mountain asks, petting up Dew's flank, trying to soothe him from the intense stretch.

Dew shakily nods, his narrow chest heaving. It makes his nipple piercings glint in the lamplight. Aether wants nothing more than to tweak them between his fingers. Or maybe suck on them. Taste Dew's skin and metal. "Just- just gimme a second. Please."

"Of course, Dewey," Mountain assures him. "You're being so good. Gonna take care of you. Gonna be a good packmate and make sure you're satisfied the way I know Aether does."

Aether rucks the hem of his shirt up. He doesn't want to risk staining it with cum. With the way Dew cries out, it's very much a possibility he's going to blow early in a way he hasn't since he was fresh Up Top.

He watches Dew breath shakily, eyes glancing from the camera, past it to Mountain, and back. He looks almost shy, innocent. Aether's reminded viscerally of the first time they'd slept together, the first time Dew'd had sex in his brand new vessel Up Top, laid out on his back in Aether's bed. His balls ache, but he wills himself not to cum. Mountain hasn't even started moving yet.

Dew rests a hand over his sternum, feeling his own fluttery pulse and breathing. It smooths down his chest, pausing for a moment to tweak and tug at his own nipples. The noises he makes are liquid arousal shot straight into his veins. "'M ready, Mount," he says, voice steady despite the way his chest heaves.

He can't see it, but Aether imagines the crooked smile Mountain gives him. "Alright, firefly. Remember, this isn't me."

Dew nods shakily, shuddering with a moan. "Right, it's Aeth."

"Put on a show for him, Dewey," Mountain says, pulling out and sliding back into Dew with a gut-punched groan.

Aether can't look away from him, the way his eyes roll back the same moment as his dick kicks hard against his hip. It's pink and ruddy and sticky-shiny already. He mewls, sharp and whiny, his entire posture melting with relief as Mountain starts to fuck him nice and slow and steady.

Dew's hand slides down past his chest, fingers skating over the coppery hair trailing down from his belly button. His fingertips rest just millimeters from the head of his dick, toying with the pool of pre. Aether tears his eyes away for a moment to watch Dew's lashes flutter at the stretch of the cock inside of him.

They widen suddenly as Mountain pushes in a little more forcefully, staring up at Mountain before locking onto the camera. Aether feels pinned like a particularly interesting moth.

"I- I- Mount, I can feel him," Dew breathes, his hand pressing down onto the flat plain of his belly, no doubtedly feeling Mountain's cock inside of his body. Mountain rewards him with another shove of his hips.

Aether curses as the two of them groan, tinny through his earbuds. A facsimile of the real thing, but Aether cannot afford to be a chooser right now. Besides, it's going straight to his dick anyways.

He strokes himself, feeling the roll of his piercings against his hand. There's lube in his nightstand, but he can't be assed. Aether just stops for a moment to spit in his palm, using that to ease the way.

Mountain picks up the pace, long fingers wrapped tight around Dew's hip. The camera stays steady as Dew wails, scrabbling at the covers. The force of his thrusts shoves Dew higher and higher up the bed. The cheap hotel bedding rustles as Mountain pulls Dew harshly back onto his cock, Dew's wail sharp and loud.

Aether has to fight to keep his eyes open, feeling his cock pulse against his palm as he jerks himself off. The image of his mate getting fucked within an inch of his life is sending him hurtling towards his own orgasm and he doesn't want to cum yet. But in the darkness behind his eyelids, Dew's cries, the slick sound of Mountain's cock spearing into him, the squeak of the cheap bedsprings all go straight to his balls.

"Droplet, what did he tell you that the rule was?" Mountain's voice, strained around the edges, cuts through it all. Aether watches Dew's eyes cloud with confusion, head tipped back and exposing the column of his throat.

Mountain doesn't stop fucking him, one hand bodily moving him up and down his cock. It takes Dew a solid minute to actually get the words out.

"He told me- fuck!- He told me I- shit- He told me I had to cum to the thought of him!" Dew cries out as Mountain slams into him. "I couldn't cum for anyone else! Had to be me getting off to him."

"And you're thinking of him right now, aren't you?" Mountain prompts. Dew's eyes roll back, hand still over the flat of his belly. His dick jumps, blurting out more pre. "What he's doing to you?"

Dew moans, sharp and airy, and Aether almost drops his phone. His own cock throbs. The mess of spit and pre is spilling over his knuckles as he squeezes a little tighter. Aether's callouses rub just right, a bite of friction.

"He's fuckin' me," Dew slurs, squeezing his eyes shut. "Aether's fuckin' me." Mountain's hand tightens around the meat of Dew's skinny thigh. Aether growls possessively at the thought of it bruising. Another ghoul's mark on his mate's body.

"No," Mountain chides softly, tone juxtaposed by the force that he fucks him with. "He's back at home. We're sending him a little treat for him to wake up to. To show him that you're following the rules."

Dew starts to moan again, but Mountain moves the camera down to where he disappears into Dew's body. It's slick and obscene, shiny in the light, and Aether strokes himself at the same brutal pace Mountain sets. He wants to close his eyes and imagine his fist is Dew's ass, that the sounds Mountain's drawing out of his mouth are because of him.

But closing his eyes means that he won't see Dew's hand wrap around himself, squeezing his little cock as his balls start to draw up to his body. So he keeps them open.

"That's it, firefly," Mountain groans, the camera starting to shake as they both lose themselves in chasing pleasure. "You're being so good for your mate."

Off screen, Dew yelps as a thrust drags along a sensitive spot inside of him. More precum spills down his ruddy shaft. It drips over his knuckles the same way Aether's is right now.

"You're going to cum, not because of me. You're going to make yourself cum," Mountain says, growling like a rockslide. "You're following his rules, he's so lucky he's got such a good, obedient mate."

Aether moans, nothing to muffle the noise. Not like he cares. He's watching Dew fall apart around Mountain's cock. Nothing else matters. He tries to ignore the burning jealousy in the pit of his chest. This is the best wake up call he's gotten in months.

"Fuck," Dew hisses, spindly fingers wrapped tight around himself. "Right fucking there, Lucifer, Mount!"

Mountain growls, low and dangerous. He freezes, drawing a pathetic whimper from the little fire ghoul under him.

The camera jolts up to Dew's face, teary and jaw lax with pleasure. "Mount-" he starts to whine, looking past the camera, but then Mountain's other hand comes up to grab him by the jaw. Dew's gaze is forced to the lens, and Aether nearly cums then and there at the dazed look in his eyes, only a thin copper ring remaining of his irises.

"What did I say, Dew?" Mountain rumbles. "Who are you getting off for?"

Aether watches enraptured as the gears turn in Dew's fucked out mind. "Aeth," he whines, eyes struggling to focus on the camera. "Aeth, please."

And if that doesn't make Aether's balls draw up, his mate begging for him. Saying please without it being dragged and forced out of him.

"Cum for your mate, Dewdrop," Mountain orders. "Look at him and make yourself cum for Aether."

The camera pulls back just in time to capture Dew's hand moving frantically over his cock before he cums all the way up to his pierced nipples. His candlelight eyes roll back with a whimpered cry, and that's all Aether needs to follow him.

Aether shouts as his orgasm hits him like a bus, release thick and hot where it shoots over his belly, dribbling over his knuckles as he works himself through it. His head swims.

Mountain pulls out, and Aether is too out of it to care if he came or not. When he watches this back after his shift, maybe he'll pay more attention, but he could not care less.

But the camera focuses on Dew's teary, blissed out face once more. "Tell him thank you, droplet. Show him."

Dew smiles, eyes half lidded. "Came for you, starshine," he slurs, trying to catch his breath as the aftershocks wrack through him. He holds up his hand, covered in spend, and starts to lick it up.

The video cuts off. Aether pants, his release cooling on his belly and his knuckles as he tries to catch his breath. His head spins. He plops his phone against his chest, letting his eyes shut for a moment.

"Infernal fucking Majesty," he curses the moment he has the breath to do so. He presses the little star on the hotbar at the bottom of the screen to save it to his favorites before he even thinks about getting up to clean himself up.

He gives himself three minutes to catch his breath before he gets up. The cum cooling on his belly is starting to cake in his thick happy trail, and it's beginning to get uncomfortable. He gets up with a groan, figuring he'll just shower it off before he has to go to work anyways. He's got an hour before he has to clock in still, he's got time.

When Aether finishes washing up, he heads back to his bed to snooze for just a little bit before he actually does have to get ready to work. His phone screen lights up with a notification and he rushes to grab it.

Sweet Thing <3: Rise and shine, nova

Sweet Thing <3: We're about to go to bed, but he'd like to talk to you if you're up and have the time

Aether scrambles for his earbuds again. He can't hit the video call button in Mountain's contact information fast enough. Mountain answers on the second ring, hands too big for his phone even in half-glamour.

He sees the same shitty hotel bedding, reflecting the yellow lamplight off of it. Some garish yet forgettable wallpaper, a cheap headboard. And there in the center of the screen, Dew and Mountain. They've cleaned up since whenever the video had been recorded, their hair damp and braided back. Aether recognizes the shirt Dew's swimming in as one of his own. They both look exhausted, Dew especially. He nuzzles into Mountain's chest, one orange eye peeking half lidded at the phone screen.

It widens when he sees Aether on the screen, a little bit of nerves and a lot of fondness in his expression.

Aether smiles, big and genuine. "Hi, baby," he coos, a little bit of the weight on his heart easing. "I hear you'd like to talk."

Dew nods, almost imperceptibly, and Mountain smiles, petting over the fire ghoul's back with a broad hand. "Did- you watched it." Dew says, voice almost small. It's such a difference from his usual little spitfire that Aether's head spins. He wants nothing more than to wrap him up in his arms.

"Yeah, darling, I saw. And thoroughly enjoyed," Aether laughs, though not unkindly. "Just got back from the bathroom. You made a mess of me. Thank you for cumming for me."

Dew smiles, that little mischievous spark that Aether loves dancing in his eye. "Sorry for breaking the rules, Aeth, I'm glad it made up for it."

Aether laughs, and he can hear Mountain's rumbling chuckle. It moves Dew bodily, and that smile falls from his face like water draining in the sink basin. "Aether? Mount?"

"I wasn't going to mention you breaking your rules about getting fucked by the others, my darling, this seems like it was our dear Mountain's idea," Aether coos, dark and almost dangerous. "But making up for it? We'll see about making up for it when you come home."

Dew shudders, eyes going wide. Aether cannot for the life of him hide the way the thought makes him grin.

"Get some sleep, baby boy. You two've got a long day tomorrow," Aether says, wicked grin fading into something genuine and fond. "I'll call on my break. I love you two."

"Love you too, nova," Mountain says, flashing a boyish smile as he pulls Dew closer to him. "Have a good day at work."

"Good night, Aeth," Dew whispers. "I love you too. Can't wait to get back."

"Neither can I. Sleep well, baby boy."

Aether hangs up, already thinking about what he'll do when Dew comes home.