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#am throws him at the wall and watches him roll down.
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back on my bullshit in honour of ihnmaims blowing up on tiktok
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saetoru · 10 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what’s mine is yours
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synopsis. suguru is a good best friend—he shares everything. just this once, he shares you too
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word count. 2.1k (it's short i promise)
contents. fem! reader, reader is suguru's girlfriend, minors do not interact, virgin satoru <3, cuckolding, fingering, safe sex (who am i ?? jk suguru would not let satoru hit raw lol), petnames (princess, baby, and sweetheart), suguru teaching satoru how to fuck <3
notes. dash pls look away. i am horny at 1 am
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satoru, for all his big talk and loud front all these years, is still a virgin. suguru finds it a tad bit funny—but out of the kindness of his heart, he decides to help his best friend change that.
how? you, of course.
“be careful how you handle her,” suguru says with a sly smile, “she’s still my girlfriend—and i have to take care of her. isn’t that right, baby?” his gaze turns to you, finger stroking your cheek gently as you whimper.
“so wet,” satoru mumbles, fingers sinking curiously into your dripping cunt, flexing slowly to pump in and out of you as you whine. his fingers are long, maybe longer than suguru’s—but not nearly as skilled.
“yeah?” suguru chuckles, “bet you like that, huh? careful though, satoru—don’t get used to this. she’s still mine.”
suguru, the ever gracious best friend, has always been one to share. he decides perhaps he can extend the favor to include his girlfriend too—but you’re precious, sweet and kind and oh so doting. he can’t share you permanently. no, it’s a one time thing—after that, satoru will have to find his own perfect little pussy to savor.
“you really get all of this? all to yourself?” satoru marvels, thumbing your clit as you gasp, your hand reaching over to clutch at suguru’s pants. his hand rests over yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he hums soothingly.
“yeah,” your boyfriend grins, “every day. whenever i want. right, baby?”
“uh huh,” you nod—and then you cut yourself off with a squeal when satoru’s fingertips brush against that sweet spot deep within your walls, making you flutter around him with a tight squeeze. he doesn’t find it as easily as suguru, doesn’t know how to angle and curl the tips of his fingers when he sinks into you.
and fuck, satoru thinks, suguru is so damn lucky.
“she’s a vocal one,” he chuckles, “you’ve been living the dream.”
“you should hear her when you use your mouth,” suguru chuckles—how embarrassing. you want to crawl onto his lap and hide away in his neck, hide away from satoru’s eyes that are watching you so carefully. satoru has good eyes—the best, even.
but you also like it. for some reason, when his eyes stare down at you with a darkened shade of blue you’ve never seen before, you feel the slick pooling from your core, smearing down your thighs and glossing over his fingers, wetter than ever.
satoru has that effect on people—even if he is a bit inexperienced.
“do i get to do that too?” he asks, sending your boyfriend a lopsided smirk.
suguru raises a brow, tightening his hand’s grip on yours before grunting a low, “don’t get ahead of yourself, satoru.”
“you said it yourself, suguru,” he chuckles, “what’s mine is yours.”
“not her,” suguru growls. and then, sweetly, he turns to you before pecking your forehead with a gentleness he keeps for only you. “you ready, princess?”
“princess,” satoru repeats thoughtfully, “yeah i guess you’re a bit of a princess, aren’t ya?”
“p-please,” you sniffle, tugging on suguru’s wrist, “need more, sugu.”
“yeah? he’s not doing his job, is he?” suguru pouts in sympathy, but his eyes are laced with amusement—like he’s enjoying the show in front of him. you’re sure he is, if the throbbing erection he sports is of any hint.
“hey,” satoru gasps, wounded, “i’m doing exactly what you told me—”
“here,” suguru throws him a condom, cutting him off, “put that on. you’re out of your mind if you think you’re feeling her. that’s only for me.”
“fine,” satoru huffs. you watch as he rolls the condom over his neglected cock—it’s red, swollen and aching, flushed at the tip and drooling with pre cum as he hisses when his hand wraps around it.
it’s pretty, you’ll give him that. satoru isn’t as thick as suguru, but he makes up for it by being a bit longer. he curves a bit with a thick vein running along the underside of his cock, balls heavy as they hang painfully, achingly full. he’s neatly trimmed—messy white strands of hair unlike suguru’s dark ones. you don’t know which one you prefer, if you could even pick one of you had to.
you watch with wide, fascinated eyes as his mouth parts with a low gasp when he accidentally teases the tip a bit as he clumsily works the rubber over himself. he’s sensitive at the head—just like suguru. gives those sweet little breathy whimpers when his slit is thumbed at. it’s cute, you think, maybe not as cute as suguru—but it’s still pretty adorable.
“go slow when you go in,” suguru warns, “if you hurt her, i’ll kill you.”
“she’s tough, she can take it,” satoru pats your cheek with a sly grin, “aren’t you, princess?”
“watch it, satoru,” you hear suguru growl, “don’t get too comfortable.”
“aw, it’s all in good fun, right? she’s taking it so well.”
you do take it well—you let satoru’s fingers play with your for ages, let him learn where to find that sensitive spot is in the back of your walls, let him rub your clit slowly—even if you ache for those fast circles suguru always gifts you with. and now, you’re even letting him slide into you, slowly but surely, inching his hardened cock into your impatiently wet cunt with agonizing patience.
“that feel good, baby?” suguru asks you once satoru’s buried to the hilt, splitting you almost in two as you breathe unevenly and nod. and satoru? well, he’s not faring any better—grit teeth and clenched jaw, panting harshly as he focuses on not cumming right then and there.
you’re tight—way tighter than his hand, and way warmer too. fuck suguru for making him wear the condom, and fuck suguru for landing such a perfect pussy too. he doesn’t know how he’s meant to go back to using his fist after a taste of this.
“you can move now—go slow at first, and then go faster when she’s close. she likes that. and don’t forget this,” suguru’s hand travels to your clit, giving a soft little pat that makes you whimper before he rubs it with those quick circles you love so much. “she likes when you touch this too. they all do—so when you get yourself your own girl to fuck, make sure you remember that.”
“i know what the clit is,” satoru grumbles, “i’ve watched porn, y’know.”
“i bet,” suguru chuckles, “is this your first time seeing a clit in person? pretty, isn’t it? everything about her is pretty.”
“suguru,” you whine in embarrassment, burying your head back into the pillow as much as you can, “you talk so much.”
“baby,” he insists, “someone has to humble him. he’s all bark and no bite.”
“i can too bite,” satoru grunts—and to prove it, he angles his hips to pull out, almost completely, before thrusting back into you. you cry out—clutching suguru’s hand tightly as your tits bounce. satoru let’s out a choked moan, gasping as you squeeze around his sensitive cock, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure.
it’s so good. suguru has it so good. you’re so good—perfect, even.
“f-fuck, more, need more,” you sob, and because suguru can’t help himself, his hand grabs at your tit, pinching and tugging at your nipple as he lets you squeeze his other hand in yours. “please, please—faster.”
“you heard her,” suguru hums, “she needs it faster.”
satoru’s good at fucking you—for his first time, he’s got your back arching and toes curling rather quickly. the blunt head of his cock brushes against your sweet spot with ease, long and curved enough to nudge against it with every roll of his hips. of course, no one knows how to fuck you until you see stars like suguru—but he comes to a close second.
your gasps have turned into long, wanton moans, and satoru moans in sync, head falling next to yours on the pillow as his breath fans over your shoulder with every harsh pant. his hips are rutting into you, slamming desperately as he feels you squeeze around him with every deep thrust. you can hear the squelching sound of your arousal as he bullies into your dripping cunt, smeared along the insides of your thighs. it’s messy, it’s rushed, it’s desperate and it feels so, so good.
satoru has never felt this good—and you? well….you have to admit you’ve never felt like this before either. it’s new, maybe not better, but certainly not worse.
“oh, fuck,” satoru groans, voice cracking as he whines against your shoulder, “f-fuck your so tight—‘s so good. so, so good….’m not g-gonna last much longer.”
“are you close, baby?” suguru strokes your cheek, watching as your eyes squeeze and your face twists in pleasure, “can’t have him be the only one cumming. that’s no good.”
“close! ‘m…’m so close, sugu. gonna cum,” you gasp as you nod.
if satoru wasn’t so lost on the feeling of your tight walls constricting around him, fluttering so perfectly that he almost feels like he can’t move, he might have protested that you addressed suguru and not him—he’s the one fucking you after all. it should be him you’re telling that you’re close, not your boyfriend. just because suguru is your boyfriend doesn’t mean he’s the one who gets to bear the reward for making you cum.
right now, that’s satoru.
“aw c’mon, sweetheart, you’re gonna—o-oh, shit,” he cuts himself off with a breathy moan, “you’re gonna make me cry. say my name too, yeah?”
“satoru,” suguru warns lowly.
“see? jus’ like that. yeah, pretty? say it just how suguru did,” satoru, murmurs against your ear, biting your earlobe softly.
your hand, much to suguru’s dismay, tugs from his grasp so your arms can wrap around satoru’s neck and cling to his large figure as he towers over you, fucking you mercilessly. his pace is frenzied now—that steady ache building up in his throbbing length is about to burst, and that coil in your belly feels like it’ll snap any second too.
“s-satoru, please—‘m c-close, so close,” you mewl, “wanna cum.”
he grins, blue eyes raking over your body as his thumb finds your clit and rubs harshly over it in that way you’ve been craving.
“yeah? you close, pretty? ‘s good to hear. i am too,” he murmurs lowly, finishing the sentence off with a shaky gasp as you squeeze around him.
and then you fall over the edge—he sends you hurtling into your high before you can ever register it. it’s new, satoru thinks—it makes his hips stutter for a second when he feels you spasm around his cock like that, sucking him in and squeezing around him enough that he chokes on a whimper and cums right then and there too. he thinks it’s a miracle he held out just long enough to cum after you, thanking anyone who’s listened to his prayers of lasting. it’s almost impossible not to finish immediately with how your walls hug around his length.
by now, his hips have lost any rhythm they might’ve had before, sloppily rutting into you as he desperately rides out his orgasm, thick ropes of cum spilling into the condom that separates him from fully feeling your warmth. he’s sensitive—his cock is throbbing even as he lets go of that built up tension in the form of white, hot release. you milk him until he’s almost certain he’s got nothing left to give, dry and worn out from the way you pulse so harshly around him.
“so good—m-make me feel so good,” satoru breathes in wonder as he finishes, thumb slowing itself along your clit before his body slumps over yours.
it’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s a mess of limbs as he rests over you, still quivering over your body from the aftershocks of his orgasm. it’s earth shattering—how you make him feel. has he really been missing out on this all this time?
“you’re heavy,” you grumble, patting at his shoulder. he chuckles into your neck, catching his breath.
“yeah? heavier than suguru?”
“i’m careful enough to collapse next to her,” suguru mutters from the side.
“fuck, that was amazing,” satoru rolls over, sprawling himself on the mattress next to you, chest heaving as he breathes, “i see why suguru spoils you so much. you keep him happy, huh?”
“oh yes,” suguru drawls, eyes narrowing. gently, he grabs your wrist and tugs at you, making you sit up as you eye the bulge in his pants and the large wet spot of pre cum staining the fabric. “you’ll see just how happy she makes me in a second here—she’s good with her mouth too.”
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idk what possessed me to write this i rly don't. all i know is i want them both carnally
NO PART TWO — please STOP commenting that
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sweetfushi · 5 days
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→ SYNOPSIS. how they realised they were attracted to you. → TAGS. tetsuro kuroo, kei tsukishima, wakatoshi ushijima x reader, fluff, you almost get hit with the ball (thanks yaku), reader is suggested to be short(er).
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TETSURO KUROO.
He started becoming quieter, almost conscious of what he said around others.
Nekoma watches as their captain almost moves in a daze, his eyes fixated on a certain girl on the bleachers, writing something and tucking her hair behind her ear every so often. Yaku had been the first to notice a few days ago during one of their practice matches, brow furrowed and lips pursed as Kuroo observed his younger sister. Although you were only younger by a year, making you a second year while Yaku and Kuroo third years, your brother was highly protective of you.
“She’s so pretty,” Kuroo murmurs, tossing the ball up and catching it repeatedly as he continues to gaze at you. He had said few words this match, albeit his smart remarks still made their presence. However, Kenma had to snap him out of a few daydreams while Lev had waved his big hands in his face, yelling “Yoohoo!”
Kuroo had deadpanned at that.
As the game continues, he watches as Yaku saves the ball but also causes it to fly over and almost hit you, making you yelp and cover your head. Kuroo almost chokes on his own breath.
“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” Yaku rushes out, face pinched in concern as he jogs over to where you sit with an unimpressed expression. Kuroo watches momentarily as the libero withstands your discipline and light slap to his head, before - as no one else seemed to do so - rushing up the bleacher stairs and snatching the ball up.
“You sure you don’t wanna sit higher up?” Kuroo suggests, watching it take you a moment to register that he’s talking to you. Your eyes lock and his breath hitches, lips parting as he watches you smile sheepishly and gather your notes in your arms. “That probably would be a good idea,” you giggle and thank him for his concern, moving to sit closer to the doors but not before shooting Yaku one last glare.
The libero pouts and apologises again.
Kuroo composes himself and fiddles with the ball before starting to make his way back down to the court.
“Hey, wait.” He freezes in place at the sound of your voice, turning to face you with inexplicable anticipation (for what, he wasn’t sure himself). He finds himself smiling as you do, watching as you nod towards the ball in his hand. “I will throw that ball out the window if it reaches me again,” you raise a brow, your warning teasing and (largely) unserious.
Kuroo snorts, nodding. “Noted.”
KEI TSUKISHIMA.
You became the person he talks to the most.
He hadn’t abandoned Yamaguchi at all, but even the green-haired man notices Tsukishima’s developing interest in you. You seemed more academic than the blond, opting to spend your time between classes in the library or the local cafe, but lately you had allowed him to distract you with his smart remarks and invitations to random days out. This time, he wanted you to help him practise.
“I’m not going easy on you,” you mumble, still shoving your books in your bag as you walk alongside him. He rolls his eyes and smacks the top of your head with the packaged strawberry shortcake slice he insists on having daily.
Once you get to the green field beside the school’s gym, he becomes insufferable.
“What happened to not going easy on me?” He grins, watching you chase after the ball for a second time.
You groan and almost much too aggressively throw a rock at him, one he easily avoids. You hate admitting it, but you are just as competitive as he is, so you don’t let his teasing demotivate you.
“I’m going to serve this ball in your damn face,” you huff, hitting the ball again. This time, Tsukishima is focused on his plays, following the ball carefully and analysing your every move. 
By the time you’re done, three hours have passed and the sun is barely hanging in the sky. You’re sweating and panting, Tsukishima slouched against a wall as he too catches his breath. Neither one of you breaks eye contact so you’re not oblivious to the way he lets his eyes roam over you. You don’t hesitate to do the same.
“I shouldn’t have eaten that cake,” he huffs, “I’m gonna puke.”
You burst out laughing at his whimpers. He takes a few moments to hydrate himself before inhaling deeply and glaring at you.
“I hope your stomach hurts so bad that you can’t sleep tonight,” he almost pouts - so uncharacteristic of him (also hoping that you stay up to text him).
“If you’re done being petty,” you push your hair back and wipe yourself down with a small towel, “I was thinking we can go get some food, maybe help that little upset stomach of yours.”
You almost scream when he throws his sweaty towel at you.
WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA.
He starts to ask about you.
He’s walking out of school with the rest of the team, waiting outside a local store as Tendo and Goshiki spend half their life savings on snacks they’ll likely forget about. Ushijima is checking the news and simultaneously listening to Ohira talk about how he’s trying out a new regime at the gym, until he hears Semi on the phone with someone. He glances up at him, hoping to hear your voice, but turns back to his phone when he doesn’t.
After about ten minutes of yelling at Tendo and Goshiki to hurry up before their banks question their hefty transactions, they all start heading home again.
“How’s your sister?” Ushijima asks bluntly, catching Semi’s surprised expression in his peripheral vision. The setter hesitates before nodding. “She’s fine.”
An awkward silence dawns on the duo.
“I thought there would be more to that conversation,” Semi laughs, staring up at his seemingly unfazed captain. Ushijima hums.
Again, the silence becomes deafening.
“Is she still working in that new firm downtown?” Ushijima asks. “I remember you said that she was excited about getting her own office.”
Semi nods, brow furrowed in confusion. “I told you that about two months ago, do I wanna know how or why you still remember that?” The two then look at each other with seemingly apathetic expressions, although Semi has a feeling that Ushijima isn’t asking out of the kindness of his own heart. He doesn’t mention it though, instead says his goodbyes to the others as they all part ways - except for him and Ushijima.
Although Semi isn't too keen on letting you invest time into boys seeking nothing but someone they can manipulate for their own benefit, he knows that Ushijima is nothing like that. Though, he's not sure how the captain would even go about approaching you considering his and your busy schedules.
"Do you... want her number?" Semi initiates what Ushijima seemed hesitant to mention.
"Please."
sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).
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daycourtofficial · 3 months
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I am ash from your fire
Summary: Eris retires after a long night to find his mate, the princess of the night court, in his chambers upset.
Author’s note: Rhys is a jackass in this one. Honestly this was supposed to be Eris comforting reader but idk how it flipped at some point and sometimes you just gotta go with where the story takes you 🤷🏼‍♀️ also I’m headcannoning that Eris reads anything and everything he can get his hands on
(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)
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Eris feels his shoulders sag ever so slightly, allowing the formalities of his stature to soften slightly as he moves further into his private chambers.
The only place in the Forest House he can at least somewhat relax. The hues of brown coating the walls, the paintings of hounds and forests covering the walls have been a comfort since his youth.
It was one of the few places Beron never entered. The High Lord would never sully himself by entering into his children’s chambers. No, he’d have word sent to them so they can come to him.
Eris walks towards the bookshelves, long fingers softly gliding over the edges of the leather bindings. His personal library was extensive - books of maps, histories, biographies, all subjects expected of a first-born heir. But also books of poetry, fantasy, and intrigue.
Eris was always a voracious reader, that need for escapism a constant in his life. His hands move on their own accord, searching for something to lose himself in when his ears perk up at a noise in his bedchambers. Unsheathing a dagger from his hip, he moves towards the room, seeing a shadow of movement underneath the door.
He reaches the door, slowly moving his hand to the handle. Once it’s in his hand, he turns it quickly, throwing open the door and pouncing on top of the person in his chambers.
His dagger is held at their throat, determined to find out who sent the risk before disposing of them. A laugh bursts out from under him, his dagger so close to their throat it knicks their throat at their laughs.
“That’s one way to say hello.”
His grip on the dagger falters momentarily, the sweet sounds of his mate’s voice causing him to loosen his hold. He pulls the dagger back, sheathing it back into his pants.
He brushes the hair from your face, taking in your amused look, his other hand going to inspect the slight knick on your throat.
“My precious fox.”
The nickname rolls off his tongue, his senses on high alert at your unexpected presence. He can sense something is off with you, and his eyes roam your body for injury.
Coming up short of any injuries sans the knick he just gave you, he sits on his haunches, grabbing your hands, helping you to sit up. You sit on your legs, keeping a tight hold on Eris’s hands, playing with his fingers.
You pull off one of his rings, sliding it on and off your own fingers, the warm metal soothing your cold hands.
He watches you for a moment, watches your fingers play with the rings he wears every day. He’s never understood your fascination with them, a nervous habit perhaps. He watches as you move the gold ring onto your thumb before pulling you into his arms. The feel of you settles him, and he can finally breathe deeply for the first time in weeks.
He holds you, pressing his face into the side of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair. He pours what love and devotion he can down the bond, enjoying your presence before he can bring himself to ask why you’re here.
The two of you usually meet in his private cabin, miles and miles from the cruelties of the Forest House. He can’t recall if you’ve ever even been in his private chambers.
You pull back from him, shuffling around so you can sit in between his legs, back pressed to his chest. You know you have to tell him why you’re here, but you can’t look at him while you do it.
You’re not sure what you’ll find from him as you recount your tale.
You take in a breath, deciding to tell him what happened instead of letting him wait.
“Rhys found one of your letters,” you say, not able to look at him. “I was called away while I was reading one of them. It was foolish - I always hide them before leaving my room.”
Something warms in Eris’s chest at the thought of you, courts away from him, pouring over every word in the letters full of love you’d exchange between each other.
Much like he did every night.
“We got into a big fight, and he uh-“
Eris watches the tear slip out, sliding down your face.
“He told me I was no sister of his.”
Eris can’t help the snarl that comes from him, and you gingerly place a hand on his thigh, a motion he knows is grounding the both of you.
“What did his little lackeys have to say?” He spits out, unable to hide his contempt for them as he asks.
His dislike of Cassian and Azriel was no secret, but it took you a long time to coax out of him what about them he disliked.
“Truthfully, I found out how Illyrians treated females and it left a foul taste in my mouth,” he had told you once. It was all you could coax out of him, and perhaps that’s all there was to it.
At his core, Eris defined males by how they treated the females in their lives. Perhaps he assumed that Cassian and Azriel were the same as the other Illyrians and did not want to press further.
“They uh weren’t there,” you reply, “no one else was there. Perhaps he sent them all away so he could throw a fit.”
You laugh a little, thinking of just how red Rhysand’s face had gotten during your fight. You feel Eris’s head lay against your own, his fingers tangling into the strands of your hair.
“He was yelling, screaming about how I was defiling the family name by being with a Vanserra.” You sigh. “Then he began screeching about how you’re awful, you’re terrible, and ‘what about Mor’ and blah blah blah.”
“How’d you respond?” Eris asks, hands idly moving to hold onto yours in a soft grasp.
“I told him to ask Mor about what actually happened that day.”
He hums, allowing you to absentmindedly play with his fingers as you speak.
“He said that Mor would never lie to him. That she would never lie to any of us.” You blow out a breath, “then he said I had been cursed by the Mother to be mated to you.”
Eris knew the words were not your own, but the sound of them on your lips still stung deep in his chest.
“That’s when I told him to fuck off.”
Eris looks down at you as you peer back up at him, adoration, love, and a hint of sadness shines onto you through his gaze.
“We fought back and forth for a while after that. Then, after realizing I wasn’t giving up so easily, he gave me a choice.”
“My family name, my title, my claim to the throne, or you.”
Eris’s grip tightens. You two had spoken about what the worst outcomes would be if you were found out. Neither of you had ever expected Rhys to disown you.
Rhysand, who adored his little sister more than anything. Rhysand, who insisted you were an integral part of his life. Rhysand, who constantly ensured you were safe and happy.
He threw all that away the second he said you would never give up your tiara collection for Eris.
“Oh, my little fox.”
He peers down at you, your eyes wide as you peer up at him, your face upside down.
He knew he’d never get to love you wholly, unabashedly, publicly. He always knew something would come between you. He lets his gaze linger, memorizing the slope of your nose, the curve of your cheeks. His fingers move and, without his prompting, they start gliding across your face. They move as if he were studying it, preparing himself to have to recognize you in blindness.
To only see you in the darkest hour of the night, when his fingers can retrace these patterns, and pretend you’re next to him again.
He could, he thinks. He’d recognize you anywhere. His breath is shaky, knowing he will have to wait until you two are gone from this world to be together.
He would spend the entirety of his afterlife searching for you, in whatever form you took. If you were nothing more than stardust, a gentle whisper on the wind every Starfall, his flame would burn higher that day, reaching out for you one last time.
He resigns himself to these last few minutes with you, but he doesn’t feel the despair in his heart mirrored in your own.
You feel hopeful. You feel open.
He can’t ask, but you know he needs to hear it.
“I am no longer the Princess of the Night Court.”
Hot tears pour down his face, and he struggles to keep his mouth closed to keep from gasping at your decision. A tear falls onto your face beneath his, splashing across your cheek.
“I am officially without a name, without a home, and with no title,” your voice full of more determination than Eris could imagine, “I humbly ask if you could provide these things for me.”
A strangled sob breaks from him, and you twist in his arms to hold him. Surprise takes over your face, utter shock cascading through the bond before you can stop it.
Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn Court, a master of masks and facades, always playing the sly courtier three steps ahead. Never in all the years have you known him have you ever seen him so emotional.
Eris looks to the ceiling as you throw your arms around him, embracing him tightly. The heat from his hands was clawing at your back, but it didn’t burn.
You shushed him as he continued crying into your hair, the sight of him becoming undone such a shock to your system.
“I apologize, my love, deeply and truly.”
His hands stay on you, every inch of you needing to make that contact with him.
For so long, his life revolved around choices he was not privy to, choices that were not his. He was a pawn in an ever tiring game, one he was trying to make his way out of.
He presses you into him, unable to believe that someone, anyone, especially you, would choose him.
You chose him. You chose him the day the bond had snapped, and you chose him now, when everything was on the line for you.
He knew that he would make the same choice, putting everything on the line for you, preparing to finally take down Beron.
“I choose you too.”
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burts-baked-bees · 9 months
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Okay?
OPLA Sanji x Fem!Reader
{masterlist for OPLA Sanji ongoing story}
Tags: Slight angst to fluff, slight pining, Sanji and reader are close friends and have truama bonded, Sanji has no clue he's in love with reader the poor sap
CW: Launguage, mentions of abuse, slight WCI spoliers, mentions of drinking
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“I swear I’m one shift away from throwing myself in the godforsaken ocean.” Sanji huffed angrily as he threw himself down in a nearby booth. The Baratie had cleared out for the night leaving the cooks to clean the line and the waiters to clean the dining room, but halfway through the dreaded cleanup Sanji had both metaphorically and physically thrown in the towel. The dish cloth he had been holding went flying across the room as he put his feet up on the booth he was in and groaned indignantly.
“That old shitbag won’t so much as let me breathe on the line! I’m a cook! Not a fucking waiter!” He yelled, turning his head back towards the kitchen, as if Zeff could hear his complaints.
“You think maybe it has something to do with the fact that you call him an ‘old shitbag’?” A voice came from the other side of his booth. A small smile curled his lips as he sat up some and peeked over the rounded edge of the red leather seat.
“Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt your nap time madame?” Sanji laughed as he took in the sight of Y/n laying on her back with her eyes closed in the opposite booth. “So sorry for the inconvenience, but aren’t you meant to be cleaning tables?” He teased as Y/n cracked an eye open and glared at him.
“Aren’t you?” She asked with a sly grin, earning an eye roll and angry huff from the blonde.
“Seems the only thing I’m meant to do is slowly die from boredom in this trash heap of a restaurant.” Sanji sighed as he fell back into his seat, pulling out his lighter and messing with the lid. Y/n laughed softly before sitting up and resting her arms on the dividing seat. She placed her head atop her arms and looked at him with a mock pout.
“Awww is the best chef in the East Blue all bummed that his dad doesn't like his cooking? Again?”
Sanji snapped his lighter closed and raised a finger at Y/n, pointing aggressively at her with a snarl.
“I am the greatest chef in the East Blue. Even if that geezer can’t see it.” He stated, earning a chuckle from Y/n as she sat up and raised her hands in surrender.
“Easy now, no need to shout at a lady.” She cooed as Sanji chuckled and gave her an angry smile, hanging his head.
“How dare you throw my own principles back in my face.” He chuckled as he began fidgeting with the silver ring on his finger. Y/n sighed and rested her chin on her folded arms again, smiling softly at the mop of blonde hair in front of her. She reached over the divider and brushed some of his hair from his face, earning a soft hum from Sanji as he closed his eyes.
“I think we both know he’s only doing and saying these things because he wants the best for you. Though I’ll be the first to admit, his way of going about it is absolute shit.” She laughed as she watched his lips curl into a smile. He looked up at her, her fingers brushing against his cheek as he moved.
“Yeah, I know…” He sighed as he leaned his head back against the wall. She pulled her hand back and looked at him with sympathetic eyes. “But you're a stowaway as much as me.” Sanji joked, “And yet I’m the one being treated like a sniveling child every fucking time I step foot in that kitchen.” He huffed as he looked over at her through his bangs. She chuckled as she hung her arms over the back of his booth and cocked her head to the side.
“My dumbass thought I could be a pirate and got stuck here paying off a debt cuz’ my ship damaged the hull of this ‘trash heap of a restaurant’.” She fired back, using his own words. He opened his mouth to speak but soon closed it again as he shook his head.
“Yeah that was pretty dumb.” Sanji joked as he pulled his jacket off and tossed it to the seat beside him. Y/n gawked at him before laughing and reaching forward to hit him softly on the shoulder. He leaned away from her and shouted
“Oi! Don’t damage the goods!”
She looked at him with mocking wide eyes and barked a laugh,
“Both Patty and I would have to disagree with you on that one, lover boy.” She snarked as Sanji rolled his eyes. A calm silence filled the space as Y/n sat up on her knees and looked at Sanji. She could see something was going on inside his head, and she knew him well enough to infer that he wasn’t going to say a damn thing. She studied the way his brow furrowed and noted how his eyes seemed more gray then blue in moments like these.
There was a profound sadness in him that she had only caught glimpses of in her three years aboard this ship. A profound sadness that he had more or less shared with her one drunken night in the bar when they should have been sleeping. A profound sadness that she wished every single day she could lift from him. The two sat in silence as the ship rocked softly under them; Y/n felt compelled to speak, to do anything that might help ease his overactive mind.
“Still, knowing what I know, having Zeff treating you like this can’t be good for the ole’ psyche…”
Sanji tensed up slightly at her words and Y/n mentally kicked herself for making that insinuation. She wanted to help him, but after the words left her mouth she felt a heavy guilt fill her bones. She watched as he shut his eyes and took a deep breath before smiling ever so slightly.
“Trust me, love. I may complain like this from time to time-”
“Almost ninety-five percent of the time."
“Ooookay. Almost ninety-five percent of the time, but nothing is worse than… what I came from.” He gave her a somber smile and pulled out his lighter again, flipping the lid open and closed in an almost rhythmic pattern. She returned his sad smile and pushed her baby hairs from her forehead.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned that.” She spoke softly as she looked out at the empty dining room; the tables were cast in an eerie candle light and the china adorning the tables glimmered like stars. Sanji looked at her, as her attention was placed elsewhere, and smiled fondly. He felt a warmth rise in his chest as he took in the curve of her profile. The slope of her nose, the length of her eyelashes, the round of her cheeks. The candle light of the empty room cast dancing shadows on her face that made her look otherworldly; he felt his smile, and eyes soften as he looked at her.
“Y/n I wouldn’t have told you about my shitty past if I didn’t trust you to check in on me like this every now and again.” Sanji spoke softly as Y/n turned her gaze back to him. She was almost stunned to see the expression on his face. The look in his eyes was, most of the time, reserved for the elegant ladies that entered the restaurant day in and day out. And yet here he was looking at her like that. She brushed the fond gaze off and swayed her head back and forth while giving him an apologetic look.
“I know, but it’s still not my place to dredge up old memories of abuse when I don’t even know the full story.” She responded, playing with the ends of her uniform shirt.
Sanji smiled at her and leaned forward in his seat, one hand braced himself on the seat top while the other reached forward and pulled her towards him. Y/n closed her eyes as she felt his lips press against her forehead.
“I appreciate you checking on me. It shows that you care.” He said softly, his words muffled seeing that his lips were still connected with her forehead. She smiled softly as he placed a loud exaggerated kiss to the skin there before pulling away and holding her face in his hand. “Okay?” He asked with a huge smile. She laughed at his theatrics and moved to stand up, leaving Sanji sitting alone in his booth as he looked up at her standing form.
“Whatever you say-” She began as she reached out a hand to help him up. He took it with a laugh and allowed Y/n to pull him to his feet. “-My favorite Baratie waiter.” She finished as she dropped his hand and started walking away from him, stifling her laughter. Sanji stood there with his jaw dropped as she walked away from him, his shock soon turning into a smile as he watched her shoulders shake from holding in her laughter. He let a chuckle slip out as he pushed up his sleeves and made a beeline for her.
“How DARE!” He yelled as he grabbed her from behind and lifted her off the ground slightly laughing as she yelped and then dissolved into laughter when she broke free. She began running to a nearby table to put distance between herself and him as she pointed at him,
“Not fair!” She yelled, watching as Sanji pointed back at her.
“Don’t you dare get me started on ‘fair’!” He responded as he laughed.
____
Zeff stood in the doorway to the kitchen watching as Sanji ran around tables with that wannabe pirate waitress. He observed in silence as the pair laughed and threw dish towels at each other instead of cleaning tables.
The small boy he once knew, terrified of making connections with those around him due to some dark past he kept to himself, was smling and laughing as he chased around what could only be discribed as a friend.
A small smile curled his weathered lips as he shook his head and walked away, the sounds of youth fading into nothing.
“Not bad, little eggplant… Not bad…”
3K notes · View notes
onelittlespiral · 5 months
Note
How about a jock twinning tf?👀
Looking alike, talking alike, then thinking alike
FML: Match
He never really stood a chance. The moment he walked into our new apartment together his days were numbered. No guy, and I mean no guy, can resist me for long. How could they, when it just feels so good to be me. He tried though. That first week he was a real prick. He would complain about my stuff everywhere, scoff at my friends, and try to cover up my scent. But 24/7 with me around starts to have an effect. I caught him picking up my stuff and stealing a quick sniff before throwing it in my room. The candles sat abandoned in his room. A pair of my boxers went missing. I finally caught him on week three. He was sitting, zoned out in the living room. It’s always so cute the first time they try to embrace it. Sprawled out on the floor, my boxers loose around his legs, hat backwards on his head. He already had a little beard going.
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He didn’t even bother getting up when I came in. He was lost in the scent of me, and his body was trying everything to become what it was not.
“Get up!” His body came to as he snapped to attention. He tried making excuses, his face was a mix of confusion and horror at what he was wearing.
“I am so sorry, I have no idea… what’s happening? What are you doing to me?!?”
“I’m just living it up bro, you’re the one sitting in my underwear. You trying to be all of this?” I flexed my biceps in front of him, watching his body begin to pulsate. “Just flex bro. Let it out, let me out.” His arms curled and posed, copying my form. His forearms exploded with muscle, as he began to shout:
“No, please, let me go.”
“You can leave at any time, you just have to want to.” I struck another pose, popping my pecs and flexing my abs. He moved in unison with me, his stomach sucking in as abs pushed out. Pecs punched out of his chest with force as his torso stretched to copy mine.
“Please… I don’t want this. Why- how are you doing this?”
“It’s easy little bro,” I sat into a deep squat. His eyes rolled back in his head as his lower body erupted. Muscle tore through him, filling out calfs, thighs, and ass all at once. “I’m what every guys wants, what everyone craves to be. My scent, my hormones, my whole aura has been filling you for weeks. I’ve been inside. You’ve just got to let me out. Now,” I stood back up, his body parodying along like a puppet. His body was ready, even when his mind was not, “FLEX.” I hit a double-bicep pose.
“Ah…AuGH-AHHHGAUH!”
I was let loose from inside him.
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It was like looking in a mirror. Fuck, I’m a stud. He was spacing out:
“Bro… no, fuck. Why, why do I sound like that?”
“You’re getting the full package little bro. You are going to look, sound, smell, think, and fuck just like me. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
He shuddered in response. Immediately his cock began swelling, snaking down his leg. His mind was saying no but his body was saying yes. By now his balls were pumping him full of my hormones, invading his mind and filling him with my horny thoughts. Hands gripped his cock as he began jerking off in front of me, speeding up his transformation. Drool dripped from his open mouth and rolled down his chest.
“No, please. Why-why does it… feel…so…goooood? Hu-ungh-uhhhHHHh…”
He was riding the waves of pleasure as they engulfed his brain. He never stood a chance against me, but it was still so hot to watch him submit to his fate. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, and slowly I watched the lights go out upstairs. He was just like me now. No, better. He was me now. It was time. I walked up and pulled his hands from his cock, and replaced them with mine. I furiously began jacking him off as his brain short circuited and he just writhed in pleasure.
“Ha-hahu-ugh-huhuhuhuuuu-uHH-“
I leaned in, and planted one kiss on his sweaty brow and commanded:
“Now CUM.”
Instantly he let loose, hitting the back wall. It covered my hands, just adding to the lubrication as I finished him off. Rope after rope flew across the room, until he was shooting blanks still thrusting against my hands. He slowly slumped to the floor
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“How you feeling bro?” I asked him
“Huuuuuuh…fuck bro I’m spent. You’re a god. How do you manage to get that much out of me every time?”
I chucked a bit. “I know all the right buttons to push bro. I just do what I would do to me.”
“God, I’m not gonna be horny for a week”
“Pfft, knowing you? I give it an hour.”
“God we’re so hot bro…”
The comment caught me a bit off guard. Did he… no. There wasn’t any part of him left that would know what just happened to him. I leaned in and gave my new doppelgänger a kiss:
“Yeah we are, bruh.”
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godslino · 4 months
Text
PIECE BY PIECE | minho first date series. friends to lovers.
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pairing: minho x fem!reader word count: 6.2k genre: college au, mutual pining, fluff, angst warnings: drinking, referenced injury (very minor) summary: minho, on a drunken whim, asks you out on a date.
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chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡
a/n: finally!! the minho part!! i’ve been sooo excited about this one since i first got the idea. i hope you guys enjoy! once again any and all feedback is appreciated, happy reading <3
“Dude, I think it’s clean.”
Minho looks up from where he’s scrubbing the counter, eyes narrowed. So what if it’s his third time going over every surface in the kitchen?
“Are you going to help me or are you just gonna sit there and make more crumbs?”
Jeongin’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He holds up his hands in surrender, the bag of chips in his lap crinkling. “I’m just saying. You’re acting like she’s never seen the place before.”
That’s the problem. You’ve seen his place. Minho has to stop the shudder that threatens to overtake his body at the thought.
“So you’re not helping? Great. Get out.”
“I live here!” Jeongin whines. “Why do I have to get out? You can’t banish me like this.”
“I can and I will. Now leave. I have two hours to make sure everything is ready and I am not going to vacuum for a fourth time.”
“Yes mom,” Jeongin rolls his eyes as he unfolds his legs from underneath him.
He stops just short of the kitchen counter, points an accusatory finger at Minho’s disheveled figure still hunched over an imaginary stain.
“For the record, Chan hyung would never do this to me. He loves my crumbs.”
Minho throws the scrub daddy at him.
🏠
The night it happens, all it takes is approximately three shots and a pep talk from Hyunjin for Minho to finally find the nerve to ask you out.
“You’ve got this,” the younger boy says, words slurred, his hands steady on both Minho’s shoulders. The bass thumps loud in the other room, drowned out by the walls of the kitchen until it’s nothing but garbled nonsense going in one of his ears and out the other, vibrations low in his chest.
“I’ve got this.” Minho repeats, the thrum of alcohol already spreading to his fingertips. He feels warm, light on his feet. His limbs are starting to loosen up and his insides are turning to jelly. He might even be floating.
“You look hot.”
“I look hot.”
“She’s gonna say yes.”
“She’s gonna say yes.”
“You’re gonna venmo me twenty dollars.”
“I’m gonna venmo you twenty dollars.” Minho parrots before he can even process what he’s saying. Changbin, who’d been watching the entire thing unfold from where he stands with his back pressed against the sink, snorts.
“Wait, what the f—”
“Go get her!” Hyunjin screams, pushing him through the door of the kitchen with one last pat on the back, “And send me my money!”
Minho stumbles over himself, just barely able to stop in time before he goes crashing into a group of people. The living room is crowded: there’s furniture pushed up against the walls, bodies pressed front to back in the middle of the floor, a makeshift DJ stand in the corner where Chan is controlling the music from his laptop, drink in hand. Minho catches his eye from across the room, the glow of the LEDs reflecting off the toothy grin he shoots his way, dimples on full display.
“Hey!” Minho feels someone grab his arm, and he turns to find you staring up at him. “Where’d you go? You said you were gonna get a drink.”
Minho follows your eyes down to where you’re staring at his empty hands. “I—uh, well. I ran into Hyunjin and we took a few shots.”
The pout you give him does nothing but spur on the fluttering of his chest, his brain still hyper aware of the way your hand was resting on his elbow. “Shots? I want shots!” you whine, and Minho has to avert his gaze from staring at your lips when your pout only worsens.
“How much have you had?” he tries to ask over the music. There’s a shitty pop song playing, high pitched and wonky. If he remembers in the morning, he’ll make sure he berates Chan about his DJ-ing abilities.
“What?” you scream back, tiptoeing to bring your mouth closer to his ear.
Minho is only a man. A man who's been in love with you since the moment you accidentally spilled your coffee all over Hyunjin in the quad during freshman year. He remembers that day well, remembers the way your eyes went wide and your lips parted. He also remembers the way he wished it was him with the large wet stain on his shirt, that way it was him that was offered to have his lunch bought as an apology.
He’d never admit it, but sometimes really late at night, when the moon is high in the sky and he’s feeling oddly sentimental, he counts his lucky stars that Hyunjin had been in a relationship at the time. Minho doesn’t know what he would’ve done had he been forced to watch the two of you hit it off—some form of arson, presumably. Anything to take the edge off. But because of the fact that Hyunjin was not trying to have his head cut off by said girlfriend at the time, he invited Minho along as some sort of collateral damage. That’s when the two of you became friends. Kind of perfect if you ask him.
With the jumbled mess of butterflies in his stomach that he gets whenever you’re near him, and the threat of the alcohol slowly seeping through his skin, his brain short circuits the minute your breath grazes the shell of his ear. When your hand follows not long after, fingers gripping the nape of his neck to hold him in place, he almost passes out.
“Min? What’d you say?”
Minho is rendered completely useless by you. Absolutely ruined. Your existence has thrown his entire plan to woo you off course and now his mouth is opening and closing like a badly programmed robot. Pathetic. Nuts and bolts for brains.
By the grace of God (or some other higher being that Minho’s never bothered to believe in until this very moment) he finds his voice, but not before you’re pulling back with a confused look on your face.
“I asked how much you’ve had to drink,” he says, straining against the music.
A saccharine sweet grin that has him seeing stars spreads across your face, “Not enough!”
Minho is not an enabler. Never has been, never will be. There was one time, back in that fateful freshman year that also introduced the two of you, that he let Hyunjin get blackout drunk. A terrible decision on his end, if the earful he got from Chan the next morning was anything to go by. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was finding remnants of the resulting hacking session for the following week. So yeah, never again.
But while Minho isn’t an enabler, he is smitten, and the way your hand feels wrapped around his wrist as you drag him into the kitchen has his soul threatening to leave his body. He thinks that maybe he could do anything as long as you asked. He also hopes you can’t feel the way his pulse is rabbiting beneath his skin, right under the press of your thumb.
“There’s, like, nothing here.” you say as you rummage through the cupboard near the window, nose scrunched and a frown on your face.
Minho laughs, rounds the kitchen island to crouch down and open the cabinet under the sink. “That’s because you don’t know where to look,” he smirks, pulling out a fresh bottle of tequila. “Also, Chan hyung is greedy. He knows people like you will go scavenging his supply if he isn’t careful.”
“I resent that.” you frown, taking the bottle from him. “Besides, people like me deserve to have fun too.”
“Mhm, sure.” Minho says, grabbing a solo cup. He holds his hand out for the bottle, pours just the right amount before sliding it over and following it up with a can of coke.
“A man after my heart.” you joke, holding your cup up to him in a mock toast before downing it in one go. Minho watches with so much focus, fighting against the way his head spins. He doesn’t even know if it’s the alcohol anymore, it might just be the effect you have on him. Dizzying—you flip his entire world on its axis in the best way possible.
Minho’s gonna be seeing your exposed neck in his dreams later, he’s sure of it—it’s branded into his memory.
“That…is so fucking bad.” you giggle, holding your cup out. “Another one.”
Minho clicks his tongue. “I don’t know…”
“Pleaseeee Min,” the lilt in your voice sounds oddly familiar. Minho holds his breath just in case you—yup. There it is. There goes that pout again.
It’d be so easy for him to lean down and kiss it right off your lips. He could blame it on the alcohol, maybe, but then that takes away from how he actually means it.
He sighs instead. “It’s gonna cost you.”
“An arm and a leg?”
“What? No—I meant some water.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Three shots and a full bottle of water later, Minho knows you’ve hit your limit. Cheeks flushed pink, a dopey grin on your face, pupils blown wide. Even in this state, Minho is certain that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Anotherrrr,” you slur, waving your cup in his face.
Minho shakes his head. “No can do. You’re cut off.”
“Please,” you whine, placing both hands on his shoulders, “I’ll do anything.”
Minho, completely taken back by the sudden closeness of your body to his, freezes.
“Anything?” he asks before he can stop himself.
This is stupid. You’re drunk. There’s no way you’re going to remember anything in the morning, much less within the next thirty minutes. He’s pretty sure that you’ll lose control of all your senses soon, which is why he’s already texted your roommate Jiwoo to unlock the door so he can carry you inside. Nothing he hasn’t done before.
“Anything,” you repeat, eyes going cross-eyed where they’re fixing on the mole he has at the tip of his nose.
This is stupid. But then again, so is Minho. A big, stupid fool that blames everything on the fact that he’s so in love with you it hurts. This might be the only chance he gets to shoot his shot.
Minho takes a deep breath, says something similar to a little prayer that’s more like Hey, if anyone’s listening, help a guy out, and hopes that the twenty bucks he sent Hyunjin works.
“Go on a date with me.” he says slowly, wincing when your eyes snap up to meet his gaze.
Well, there’s really no going back from that. The only thing that could possibly grant him redemption now is banking on the fact that you don’t remember anything in the morning.
Minho waits with bated breaths, watches as your eyes search his for a long while. He waits for the anger, the disgust, the visible repulsion that he starts to think might happen the longer the silence continues.
He’s about to backtrack, quickly conjuring up an excuse about how Oh, haha, gotcha! when your hands suddenly drop from his shoulders. You grab the cup, your chin tipped upwards, and hold it out for him to fill.
“Okay.”
“O…kay?”
“Yeah. Okay. Pour me another one.”
The next morning, when Minho all but drags himself into the kitchen in search of water and something to soothe the throbbing in his head, he nearly spits a mouthful at Jeongin, the poor guy too busy eating his cereal to realize he’s gotten a front row seat in the splash zone.
Y/N [10:34am]
so
when do you want to do that date?
🏠
Are candles too much?
Minho has options: clean linen, lavender breeze, ocean mist, warm vanilla. He really just needs something to get rid of the smell of cleaning spray.
He thought that having a night in for a first date would be ideal—less pressure, no unwanted attention, a bathroom that he can run into when he starts to hyperventilate if you smile at him for too long. But now that it’s happening, he’s convinced that every surface of his and Jeongin’s shared apartment will scare you away if anything so much as looks off-putting.
Minho is, to put it simply, freaking out. All the other times you’ve been over to his place were on a completely platonic level. Movie nights with all the other guys in tow, dropping off food that you felt generous enough to buy every once in a while, one time because you’d accidentally worn Minho’s jacket home from a party and needed to return it to him.
But this is different. This is a date. Minho’s not dreaming—he already pinched himself a dozen times in the bathroom mirror, tiny red marks on the inside of his forearm to prove it. He’s going to open the door, invite you in, cook for you, and then proceed to resist the urge to tell you how beautiful you are for however long the night continues on after that. He can practically hear Jeongin’s laugh in the back of his head, sneering at how pathetic his inner monologue sounds right now.
He needs to find another stain to scrub.
By the time you’re knocking on his door, Minho has changed his outfit seven times. Sweats were too casual, a button up was too fancy. Should he not have done his hair? No, that’s just lazy, the way his fringe is swept up and out of his forehead adds a nice touch that doesn’t scream Hey! I’m trying to woo you! You’ve never been the type to be impressed by grand gestures and shows of confidence anyways, he knows that well.
One time, when a guy from one of the frat houses hired the campus quartet to sing a song for you in the quad as he stood there with big beady eyes and a bouquet of roses in his hand, you’d all but ran from the scene, Minho following close behind as you called out to him over your shoulder. It’s one of his fondest memories. As soon as the two of you made it around the back of the science building, you’d doubled over in laughter, the both of you in disbelief at what had happened. Minho has had that information tucked into the deepest parts of his brain ever since, saved just in case he needed it.
(Later that night, in the safety of his own bed, he’d laughed maniacally at the situation. Something about watching you reject another guy filled him with a sense of joy he couldn’t explain. He just hoped he was never going to be on the receiving end of it.)
He does a quick once over of the kitchen: double checks that all the ingredients are out, blows a speck of dust off the glass stovetop, spins the tiny floral arrangement he bought so that it’s sitting at just the right angle. When the doorbell rings, the chime bouncing off the walls of the apartment, he visibly pales.
He has to reel it in, to remember that it’s just you. You might not even be here with any intentions other than to fulfill your end of the deal; one date in exchange for the extra three shots he poured you the other night. Minho takes a deep breath, grips the doorknob with conviction, and decides that he’s determined to show you the way you deserve to be treated. The opportunity is there, and he’s gonna take it.
As soon as the door swings open, every nerve that had somehow crept its way into his brain disappears, the sight of you standing on the other side immediately sending the anxiety scrambling and replacing it with fondness instead.
“Hi,” you smile, and Minho sees images of you coming home to his apartment flash across his mind. After class, after work, in the winter when it’s cold and your nose is tinted pink, on rainy days where the ends of your hair are damp and you have a wet umbrella in tow. He could get used to it. He’s so in love that it hurts.
“Hey,” he breathes out, stepping aside to make way for you, “Come in. Are you hungry?”
“Starving, actually. Been saving myself all day since I don’t always get to have your cooking.” You hop on to one of the stools, your attention momentarily stolen by the flower arrangement. One point for Minho.
I’d cook for you every day, he wants to say. But that’s weird, right? So instead, “Well then I guess today is your lucky day.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” You say softly.
Minho can’t see you with the way his back is turned, hands moving to grab out the knife and cutting board, but if he could he’d see the way your eyes are staring softly at his back, the ghost of a smile on your lips.
Conversation flows easily after that, despite Minho’s original worries about it being awkward. You’re not necessarily treating it as a date, and he isn’t really either. It feels more like a glorified hangout, just the two of you spending time together with the added glances and smiles that normally wouldn’t be there.
Minho finds it easy to get lost in you. He finds himself craving to know more about your day, about the things that’ve been on your mind lately and the hobbies you’ve picked up. Most of the conversation is a continuation of stuff that’s fallen through the cracks during the times you see each other, but he doesn’t miss the way you ask about him too, your eyes shining with genuine interest. It makes his heart slam against his ribcage.
“How are your cats doing?”
Minho looks up from the cutting board, follows your gaze to where it’s fixed on the scattered pictures that litter his fridge. “They’re good,” he says, smiling down at a head of garlic, “My mom sends pictures all the time. She says they claw at the door to my room when they miss me.” He smashes the garlic under the knife’s blade by hitting it with the heel of his palm. “It’s cute.”
“You’re cute.”
Minho, in a very flashy demonstration of what it means to be cool, calm, and collected, slices his thumb mid-chop.
“Shit.” he mutters, dropping the knife.
It’s not that bad, just a little nick, the surprise was mostly what scared him. He probably doesn’t even need a bandaid. But despite how small it is, nothing stops you from hurriedly walking up to him and taking his hand in yours, his thumb held closely to your face for inspection.
“Are you okay?” You turn his hand over between your fingers, the soft pads of them against his calloused ones. Minho is dumbfounded, struggling to find the words to say.
“Yeah—um, it’s fine. My fault. I was distracted.” He stammers out, pulling his hand back and holding it up. He wiggles his fingers, making a show of bending and twisting his thumb that, at most, has just a small cut on the side. “See? Perfect.”
Your face relaxes, and then you’re laughing. Why are you laughing? Either Minho looks like a complete idiot or he’s suddenly the funniest person in the world for being clumsy and reckless and almost ruining the night by losing a finger. Whichever one it is, he doesn’t care, as long as he gets to hear that sound again.
“Let me help cook, please? I know you said you would do it all but clearly you’re a threat to the integrity of this meal.” You say, bumping your hip against his to move him away from the cutting board.
Minho scoffs. “I wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t catch me off guard.”
“So what? You admit that I make you flustered?”
Oh.
Minho wasn’t prepared for this. He wasn’t prepared for the—the flirting that’s clearly happening. You’re flirting with him, right? Why else would you have called him cute or given him that suspicious side eye after you asked that question?
You and Minho have joked around like this before, but it was always empty with no real feelings attached—as far as he could tell. You’re a naturally friendly person, getting along with others comes easy to you. He’s seen the way you talk to the other guys and has always just assumed he was no different in your eyes than they were. Sure, there were moments where maybe your hand lingered on his arm for a little while after he made you laugh, or the two of you would steal glances across the room. Sometimes when Hyunjin said something stupid you’d both catch the other’s eye and make a face, just another funny way of proving that you were both on the same wavelength most of the time. It’s kind of why Minho is so taken with you—he’s never met anyone that gets him the same way.
Reluctantly, Minho puts his pride aside and allows you to help. And as it turns out, you’re actually really good at cooking. Minho doesn’t have to instruct you much, and before he knows it you’re both working like a well-oiled machine, scooting past one another as you switch places between the stove and the sink, reading each other’s minds without even having to ask.
“Taste this.” You say, holding the spoon up to his mouth. Minho leans forward, front teeth poking out, and brings the spoon into his mouth. You cup your hand under his chin to catch any droppings, watching in anticipation as he smacks his lips together.
His eyes light up, big and brown and twinkling under the light of the kitchen. “Perfect.” He smiles.
“Oh you have—uh,” you stop him with a hand on his forearm just as he’s about to turn back to the sink, your other hand hovering next to his face hesitantly, “It’s just, um, your—here.”
Minho’s eyes go wide when your thumb swipes against the corner of his mouth, your touch feather light. It’s so intimate, the only sound being the music playing low from the speaker on the counter. He’s half convinced that you’re able to hear his heartbeat, blood pumping loud in his ears.
“You had some sauce…on your face.” You say shyly, your palm still pressed to his cheek.
“…Oh.”
Minho’s never really looked into your eyes from this close up before. He’s always known they were beautiful, the shape of them soft, full of nothing but the world. He can see himself in them from here, and, selfishly, he hopes you can see yourself in his, too.
He might be imagining it when your gaze flicks down to his lips for just a fraction of a second, but there’s no time to unpack any of that when the sauce starts bubbling over the edge of the pot, spilling on to the burner as loud sizzling and smoke fills the kitchen.
It’s chaos. The bottom of the pot is burnt and there’s only so much of it that’s salvageable. He only bought the exact amount of ingredients too, because this is a self-proclaimed no-food-waste household (as explicitly stated in the napkin contract he has with Jeongin, much to his dismay). So, hooray for conscious consumption of goods!
At the end of it all, there’s no one to blame. You’re both guilty of…whatever that was.
Minho tries to reassure you that it’s okay as he dials the number for the pizza place just down the street, simultaneously shutting down all your attempts to pay as an apology. It doesn’t matter to him, he’d do anything as long as it means he gets to spend time with you. At the end of the day, it’s another memory that he’ll hold close to his heart.
“Listen,” you say, swallowing down a mouthful of pizza, the both of you seated on his couch with a half-eaten box of pizza open on the coffee table, “I know you wanted to cook and all—which, by the way, I’m still sorry—but this is so good. However I’m sure whatever you made would’ve been better.”
Minho chuckles. “Stop lying,” he wipes his hands on a napkin, “I can guarantee you that whatever I cooked wouldn’t be as good as this anyways.”
“Stop selling yourself short, Min. You’re good at everything you do.”
The words fall from your lips so easily, like it’s something you’ve convinced yourself of long ago. Minho’s never been the type to bounce around from one thing to another, always choosing to stick with it until he has it down to a science. Cooking is one of them. Jeongin can attest to all the times Minho has berated him with tasting his latest dishes, chasing him around the apartment with a spoon. The words tighten themselves around his heart.
“I’m not,” he rolls his eyes, “But nine times out of ten, grease and mozzarella cheese are gonna win. I know that for a fact.”
You laugh, and the conversation gradually diverts into a debate about the top ten best greasy foods in existence. You’re heated, half kneeling on the couch with a finger pointed at him as you plead your case for onion rings, when your eyes go past Minho’s head and settle on the shelf of games in the hallway.
“You have games?” you ask, suddenly giddy with excitement as you hurry over to inspect the selection.
Minho watches with fond eyes, collects the plates and napkins to throw away. “Yeah, most of them are Innie’s. We don’t really use them. Sometimes when we’re drunk, other times when we’re bored and decide to wager money for fun.”
You hum, not really paying attention. Monopoly, Chutes and Ladders, some decks of cards, Uno—you scan the shelf until your eyes light up at what you find hidden at the bottom.
“Min! Can we play Jenga?”
“Jenga?” Minho asks, re-entering the living room. The coffee table is clear now, and he sits between it and the couch, his back against the cushion. “Isn’t that kind of boring? We have other stuff there.”
“It’s only boring if you play it the way it’s supposed to be played.” You roll your eyes. Minho turns to you when you situate yourself on the floor beside him and only momentarily contemplates running to the bathroom when your knee knocks against his. He’s been holding it together pretty well so far, however The Sauce Incident had him ready to book it if anything had gone further.
“Well how else are we supposed to play it?” He frowns.
“We make up our own rules.”
The pieces scatter across the wood of the coffee table, clacking as you diligently begin putting them together. “This is a date, right?” You ask, stopping for a moment to turn and assess his response.
Minho stills. He genuinely forgot the grounds on which tonight had even happened in the first place. Spending time with you makes him forget everything else. And, despite his fears in the beginning, being on a date with you has felt so natural that it almost seems like you’ve done it a thousand times before.
Your eyes meet. For a moment, Minho lets himself wonder what it’d be like if he went for it right then and there. “Yeah,” he says slowly, unblinking, hoping you can see the sincerity on his face, “A date. One of the best ones I’ve ever been on, actually.”
He almost cries out in victory when your face flushes pink. “Now who’s a liar?” You ask quietly, going back to piecing together the game.
Minho has learned something new tonight: he really likes seeing you flustered.
“Why do you ask?” he decides to cut you the slack, “Or what does this being a date have to do with Jenga rules?”
He waits as you finish the stack, your tongue sticking out in concentration. You’re so cute. Minho mentally pockets that image for safe keeping.
“Sorry, okay, it’s done. But basically, if we pull out a block, we get to ask the other person a question.”
“And if the tower falls…?”
“Hmm,” you think for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, “Oh! I know. If you lose you have to tell me why you asked me on a date.”
Minho’s stomach flips. “Okay. If you lose you have to tell me why you accepted the date.”
Something unreadable passes over your face, but it’s gone in an instant. You hold your hand out for a shake, and Minho wraps his fingers around it gently.
“Deal.”
“Why are you taking all of the middle pieces?” Minho pouts.
The two of you have gone through a couple turns by now, throwing out random questions for the better half of fifteen minutes. Favorite colors, childhood foods you wouldn’t eat, the best memory you have from high school. Minho’s learned a lot, has fallen for you a lot more. But that was always a given. It’s impossible not to when he can feel the warmth from your body where you’re seated next to him, your presence overtaking all of his senses.
“Because I’m trying to win,” you laugh, putting your freshly pulled piece at the top. Just a little crooked, too. To piss him off. “Favorite movie?”
“Ponyo. Easy. My turn.”
“Seriously? Why Ponyo?”
“One question at a time, princess.”
He means it as a joke, really. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until after the fact, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. Minho notices, the corners of his lips tugging downwards as he suppresses a smile. He manages to flick one of the side pieces until it gives way.
“What’s one thing you regret?”
“Ooh, getting deep I see.” You laugh, taking a sip of your soda. There’s a long pause, and then, “I regret spilling my coffee on Hyunjin that day.”
Minho’s brow furrows. You…regret it? He runs through all the possible reasons in his head. Surely it can’t be because you regret becoming friends with them, friends with him, right?
“Why?” He chances.
“One question at a time, princess.” You echo, laughing at his shocked expression.
You remove the last middle piece. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate our first date?”
Minho’s brain is going a thousand miles a minute. “A ten. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He says it fast, wastes no time in moving forward to remove his own piece. He doesn’t even notice that your cheeks have gone pink again, too busy itching to ask his next question.
“Why do you regret spilling your coffee on Hyunjin?”
Minho watches you, lets his mind wander to the worst possible thing you could say in this situation, and mentally prepares to book it to the bathroom.
You take a deep breath, “I regret it because I wasn’t supposed to spill it on him. I was supposed to spill it on you.”
Wait, what?
Minho blinks. “What are you talking about?”
This is humiliating for you. A terrible thing to have to admit. Up until this moment, you’d thought that this information would follow you to your grave. You press the heel of your palms to your eyes, “This is so embarrassing,” you groan.
Minho pulls one hand away. He’s not really sure what to say, mostly because he’s confused, but, “You can tell me.”
“I had…” you start, looking up at him slowly, “A plan. With Jiwoo.” Minho nods for you to continue. “I’d seen you and Hyunjin walking through the quad a few times, and I thought that you were cute, but I didn't know how to approach you. So I did something stupid and decided that I would literally just crash into you. But I fucked it up.”
I thought that you were cute. The words echo in Minho’s ears like a bell. All this time, all those stolen glances and lingering touches, all the ways you would make hope spike in his chest that maybe you felt the same—they were real.
“So you, wait—” Minho shakes his head, “So you’re telling me that all this time…”
You roll your eyes. “Yes, Min, really. All this time.”
Minho’s never been skydiving, but he imagines that this is what it feels like. Free falling—his soul hurtling towards earth at a horrifying speed, slamming back into his body right here in his living room with a force so strong it would knock him off his feet if he wasn’t already sitting on the floor. You were interested in him first.
Wordlessly, you lean forward, pulling out a piece with practiced ease. Minho waits with bated breaths.
“Can I kiss you?”
Minho feels like he might pass out. “Am I dreaming right now?”
“You didn’t pull out a piece.”
He scrambles forward, clumsily nudging a piece on the side that ends up sending the entire tower toppling over. You smile at him, soft and sweet. “Looks like you have to pay up with an answer. You know, since you lost.”
Minho doesn’t care. “Because I like you,” he breathes out, “I asked you on a date because I like you. I like you so much, ever since I saw you that day. And, funnily enough, I’ve always wished you’d spilled that coffee on me instead, too.”
The confession feels like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He’s spent so long pining after you, laying awake at night thinking about how this would go down if he ever got the chance. He never expected for it to happen like this, much less for you to possibly feel the same.
Panic slowly starts to rise in his chest when you don’t respond. He watches as you reach an arm over, build a small tower out of a few pieces, and then knock it over. You turn to him with a small smile, “Oops, I lost too.”
Minho is so in love with you that it hurts.
“I accepted the date because I like you, Minho. I’ve just been waiting for you to ask.”
He doesn’t think twice before he’s surging forward, cupping your face with one hand and kissing you with a tenderness that has you melting into his touch.
There’s no fireworks behind his eyes, no big bang or grand display of whatever it is that happens in the movies. But there’s a warmth, it starts out small in the center of his chest and spreads throughout his entire body, lights his skin aflame and travels all the way to his fingertips. You’re like that. A gentle presence, someone who worms their way into the very essence of his being and burrows into the deepest parts of him, like it was never his to begin with. Kissing you is slow, and deep, and right. He wouldn’t want it any other way. Minho doesn’t ever want to stop.
He lets his other hand fall to your waist, pulls you closer until you’re practically straddling him with his back against the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. Minho lets out a long, drawn out groan when you tilt his head back farther, his lips parting and allowing you to lick inside of his mouth. It’s so good. So good. He can’t believe he ever lived without knowing what this felt like; lived without ever having you this close before.
After a while, Minho reluctantly pulls back, holding you by the shoulders. When he looks up, your eyes are half-lidded. You look utterly debauched, cheeks pink and lips swollen from how hard they’d been pressed against his own. “We should probably slow down.” He tries hard to convince himself, too. “Talk about it all, you know? I don’t—this isn’t a one time thing for me. I don’t want it to be. I like you. I want you to know that.” He says softly, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.
You lean into his hand, smiling when he flattens his palm to let your head rest there. “You’re like, so perfect that I want to kiss you until you forget your own name.”
Minho’s ears go red, his head falling forward until it rests against your collarbone. The feeling of his breath against your skin makes you laugh and run a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck fondly.
“This is gonna be so bad now that you say stuff like that.”
“Bad? No, I think it’s cute. You’re cute.”
“Shut up,” he whines, but there’s no bite to it. Not when he can look up and press a kiss to your lips. A dream come true. The entire world in his hands, exactly where it was always meant to be.
🏠
In the morning, when Jeongin comes back home, one hand covering his eyes just in case, he calls out,
“Everyone better be dressed! Or else I’m ripping up that napkin and making a new one with No fornicating on the furniture added into the fine print.”
When he doesn’t get a response, he rounds the corner, and finds the two of you nestled into the couch. Minho’s back is pressed into the cushions, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you nuzzle your face into his neck.
Jeongin huffs out a laugh, sends a quick text to Hyunjin that reads: Negative. Clothes are still on. But they’re so cute it’s almost sickening.
He snaps a picture to send to the group chat, grabs a piece of cold pizza, and retreats to his room.
Yang Jeongin Fanclub
jeongin: [Attachment: 1 image]
chan: AWWWWWWW
jiwoo: i’m gonna cry
changbin: dude is that the good pizza from down the street?
hyunjin: FINALLY
hyunjin: wait
hyunjin: does this mean i have to send back his $20?
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[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie ]
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© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.
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baby-yongbok · 5 months
Text
Call me, baby
Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
♡ Genre - Smut, slow(ish) and then boom porn - Strangers to lovers (non-idol)
♡ Word Count: 7.6k
♡ Summary: Welcome to Rockstar tattoo and piercing, where giving a beautiful stranger and eyebrow piercing can lead to the best fuck of your life.
♡ A/N: I started this as soon as photo's of Hyunjin with that damned eyebrow piercing came out. I am EXHAUSTED the horny took over, I'm ruined and now maybe you are too. 😭 I wanted to have this be a bit of a slow burn type of thing just so there could be some build up and longing ya know? I don't usually draw things out this long but I wanted to give it a shot. 💕Please enjoy it, I worked hard and I'd love to hear feedback. I also only lightly edited it for right now, I'll look over it again later! Gosh I'm exhausted. + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡
♡ Warnings: Pain slut Hyunjin, Descriptive piercing process, Biting, Hair pulling, Appearances by Lee Know, unprotected sex (safe sex is good. be safe ya'll) Oral (f&m receiving), nipple play (kinda? & not for too long + reader has nipple piercings)
✧ Masterlist ✧
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“Hey, man. Welcome to Rockstar tattoo and piercing whatcha lookin for tonight?” Minho, your ex and fellow co-owner of the shop asks as that familiar jingle rings through the empty shop. You’re too busy cleaning up your space to listen in on what the new customer wants. You’re sure that it’s something simple since it’s close to midnight and all that gets done this late are simple piercings and tattoos that people will regret in the morning.   
“Baby, you got a customer up front.” Minho calls as he makes his way over to his station. The name prompts a fake gag and an award winning eye roll as you move across your station
“Do not call me that, ew.” The echo of Minho’s chuckle makes him sound closer than he is as he rounds the corner of the wall dividing your spaces. You’re a two person crew so you get to spend every second that you’re in this shop with your ex which wouldn’t be so bad if he and his new girlfriend weren’t all over each other every chance that they got. You love the girl and they’re a much better match than the two of you ever were but it’s been so long since you’ve been with someone that you feel like they’re just teasing you at this point.
“You used to love that.” With folded arms he leans against your side of the wall and you turn to him with a hand on your hip while the other one is full of supplies.
“And I used to love you.” He hisses, holding a hand over his heart with faux pain in his eyes. 
“Ouch.” You throw an empty ink cap at him and you both laugh. “Well since you don’t love me I’ll be right back.” He walks over to the front desk, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and heading out to the front of the shop.
“Where the hell are you going?” You whine, running up behind him. He turns to face you with that mischievous glint in his eyes. Does he really need to go get his dick wet right now? 
“Seriously, Min!” He laughs at your incredulous scoff as he throws on his jacket. “If I’m not back in an hour, close up for me, yeah?” With a quick wink and a smirk he rushes out of the door before you even have a chance to protest. You know that he’ll be back, he always comes back but you still want to give him a piece of your mind. You flip him off as you watch him pass the large front window and he kisses back at you. You love that you two had a clean break but god does he get on your nerves. 
“Asshole.” You mumble under your breath as you look down at the form on the counter. “Hyunjin?” 
You hear shuffling in the very far corner of the waiting area as you flip through his paperwork. 
“That’s me.” You smile down at the clipboard once you hear his voice, at least he’s not some rude wasted guy. “You can come with me.” 
When you look up your jaw nearly hits the counter, is beautiful even the right word to describe this man? You don’t usually have a type but if you had to pick one it would be the man standing right in front of you. “ Uh, hey my name’s Y/n, I’ll be piercing you tonight and it uh-”
Gosh, his eye contact is intense, how does he do that? “It says here that you wanna get a horizontal eyebrow piercing?”
“Right.” He shakes his head as he rocks back and forth on his heels and you nod. 
“Awesome, it should be pretty quick, let’s do this.” You unlock the swing door and allow him back into your station. You decide to close the privacy curtain that separates your space from the rest of the shop since the chances of anyone else coming in is close to zero, you’re not as accessible as the shops close to town so this is the quiet hour for you.
Hyunjin watches as you start collecting the supplies that you’ll need. You move carefully, making sure that everything is just how you like it. “Have you been doing this for a long time?” You hadn’t even noticed the way that he seems to be nearly looking over your shoulder this entire time.
“Long enough.” He smiles at your shy laugh as you pick a marker from your cup. “We’ve owned this place for about three years.” 
“You and your boyfriend?” You scowl at his words, pulling a chuckle from his chest. “I guess he’s not your boyfriend.”
“He’s my ex, we already bought this place when we broke up so I couldn’t escape him.” A dramatic sigh follows your statement as you motion for him to sit down on the chair in front of you. “We're friends now, best friends, but I am a single girl.”
Hyunjin cocks his brow, causing you to accidently draw a line across his eyelid. “Sorry about that.” He chuckles and you smile at the soft sound. 
“It’s alright.” You clean him up and the feeling of his gaze burning into you makes you smirk. You’re more than used to clients staring at you, there are some that will try to make an ungraceful pass at you while they’re at it but for some reason having Hyunjin stare at you so intensely is welcomed? Maybe because he’s cute. That definitely helps. “Ready?”
“Ready.” You mark him perfectly this time and point him towards the mirror to check if he likes the placement. “Perfect.”
“Awesome let’s stick ya then.” You motion him towards your reclined chair and he gracefully fills the spot with his tall frame. “You’re not scared of needles are you?”
“Not at all.” The smirk on his face as he stares up at the ceiling catches you off guard. You’ve never seen anyone smile at the thought of getting stabbed before. You wipe your hands and snap on your gloves before moving in front of your rolling tray where all of your supplies are set up. “Did it hurt when you got yours?”
“Nope, but that’s probably because I did it myself.” You grab your scissor clamp and move next to Hyunjin. “Okay, so, the steps are to clamp the site, pierce it, feed the jewelry through and then you’re out of here.”
“Sounds easy enough, go ahead.” You nod leaning over him gently. This is the first time in all of your years as a piercing artist that you’ve felt self conscious about the deep V cut of your shirt. You usually couldn’t care less but right now you’re almost hyper aware of the way that you’re presenting yourself to the man in front of you. You’re also hyper aware of the way that he’s staring right at the lacey red of your bra that’s peeking out, or is it the studs of your nipple piercing pressing against your tight cotton shirt that’s caught his attention? Either way, the way that he’s staring is causing something that you haven’t felt in awhile to stir deep in your stomach.
“Gonna clamp you now, it shouldn’t hurt but just take a deep breath anyway.” You whisper as you turn his head a bit to get a better look at the piercing site. Now he’s really got a good view. He’s perfectly still as you clamp him and you praise him for every little thing that he does right, he seems to take a liking to that since every time something sweet comes out of your mouth he hums with contentment. 
“Ready for the stick?”
“Go ahead.” He licks his lips while his gaze is still trained on your chest and you can’t help but to push your thighs together. He seemed to have noticed since a ghost of a smile adorned his lips right after. 
“Breath in.” He follows your instruction and you position the needle right at the mark only pushing a bit to prepare him. “And out.” He was an easy stick, it went in perfectly. It was smooth and quick and he definitely hissed a moan when you did it. You stay in place, leaning over him with the plastic needle still in. 
“Everything good?” The sound of his moan rang through your ears as you avoided eye contact with him. He hums a confirmation, his eyes are shut now and his bottom lip is between his teeth. Good god. Did he not notice or does he just not care? Does he have a thing for pain? “I’m going to uh- feed the jewelry through.” 
You move his head a bit, trying to find the best position for the light to hit him. Why is the lighting so shitty all of the sudden? “Everything alright?” There’s a slight chuckle in his voice and you sigh.
“Yeah I just can’t get a good light right now. It’s like my damn shadow moved in the way.” You move a bit back and forth but nothing is comfortable enough. “Can I like… could you just move your hip over a bit?” He does as you ask immediately and you swiftly prop your knee up on the chair. 
“Thanks, that's so much better.” You grab the jewelry, and wedge it into the plastic needle for the feed through. “You’ll feel a bit of pressure, it might sting okay?”
“Mmhmm.” Just as you’re about to move the needle you feel the soft brush of his fingers on your inner thigh. That had to be an accident right? Do you want it to be an accident? Not really.
“One, two, go.” You slowly feed the jewelry through and this time a soft grunt leaves his lips but that’s not all. You freeze when you feel it, glancing down at Hyunjin while his eyes are still closed and his fingers grip the flesh of your inner thigh. “Good?”
“Great.” It’s a miracle that you didn’t moan at the feeling of him grabbing you but you decide to thank whatever higher power saved you instead of thinking about what if’s. One thing’s clear though; he definitely has a thing for pain.
“Let me just -” You reach over to your rolling tray and his grip on your thigh loosens but he doesn’t let go. “- Just gotta put the ball on the end.” You secure his jewelry, screwing on the end and wiping it down with bactine. 
“Done.” He sighs but he doesn’t move. You look down at him, expecting him to say something, but he stays silent. You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the electricity that having his hand inches away from your heat is causing. “Wanna look at it?”
He nods, finally moving his hand, now maybe you can breathe normally. You both move at the same time but he sits up much slower than expected. “Feeling good?” Hyunjin hums as he adjusts his pants and makes his way over to the mirror, leaning in to get a good look at the new accessory. 
“So good.” Yup, he has a pain kink. It’s confirmed.
Once you’ve cleaned up all the immediate things and rid yourself of your gloves you move over towards him slowly. Usually you’d make small talk but you don’t feel too capable of doing that with the way that your core is pulsing with need at the moment. 
You watch as he studies the piercing. You should be looking at it too but you can’t focus on anything but the sharp beauty of his features and the way that his wine red hair falls against his temples and compliments the blush running up his neck. As much as you try to stop yourself you can’t help but indulge in taking him in further. You can’t help but to let your gaze run down the length of his strong arm and admire the way that his black sweats are hanging from his hips. Your eyes linger on the hem of his pants for a second too long and that’s when you notice it. Right below the perfect bow of his drawstrings is a delicious bulge that you desperately want to show attention to. Your tongue darts out, licking at the corner of your mouth a bit as you eye him. Snap out of it, come on.
“Think I should get a tattoo there?” Your eyes snap to his reflection but he’s already looking at you. Fuck, did he catch you staring? Of course he did, it was so obvious. “I’ve been thinking about it.” 
His smile makes you feel like you could explode at any second but you decide to try a bit harder to contain yourself. “I think that could be hot.” Fuck, no no no, why did you say that.
“Hot? You think so?” He cocks his eyebrow just like he did earlier but this time the gold stud adorning his thick brow makes a shiver run up your spine and sends a spark to your clit. He was already hot without the piercing but now it’s just unfair.
“Uh yeah, I do.” Before you can try to turn around and make your escape from further embarrassing yourself he turns to you. 
“Would you do it?” His eyes are focused on yours and for some reason you can’t find it in you to look away. 
“Do…your hip tattoo?” He nods and you shift your weight as you imagine the process. Could you even stand to be that close to his dick? You’re standing in front of him right now and you feel like you could combust from the eye contact. Surely you’ll melt if you end up having to stare at his hard dick for hours while he gets off on the pain of your needle for a second time. 
“I would.” Your answer leaves your lips in a half whisper before you can even think about it but the smile that pulls at his lips makes you forget your prior argument. “Just let me know when.”
“Do you have a card?” 
“Up front, I’ll give it to you with your care instructions.” You find yourself glancing down one more time before attempting to blink away all of your horny thoughts. As much as you want to fall to your knees and relieve him of his pain induced hard on you have to keep it professional, even if you were just caught staring at his dick print. “You paid when you came in, right?”
Quickly, you make your way around him to open your curtain and lead him to the counter. “Yeah I did.” You can feel him close behind you as you unlock the swing door to let him out.
“But you did such a great job.” The slam of the small door behind him makes you jump a bit but his following question is what really did it. “Do you take tips? Or could I give you more than that?”
You choke a bit on your inhale but at the same time there couldn’t possibly be a hint of oxygen left in your body with the way that he’s looking at you with his arms crossed and leaning on the counter. Your brain isn’t working anymore, it’s completely smooth as you stare back at Hyunjin’s cool smile. Hell, if he’s offering you’re going to take it.
Just as you’re about to calculate your own suggestive reply that familiar jingle echoes off the walls and your gaze lands on none-other than your godforsaken ex. He eyes you as you stand behind the counter with red cheeks and your palms spread and pressing into the desk. 
“All good?” He looks between you and Hyunjin with raised brows. You force a smile as you frantically scan the desk for the care instruction packet. 
“Yup, all good.” The sigh that follows your sentence is less than convincing but Minho lets it slide in the name of trusting you. You turn your attention back to Hyunjin who’s eyes were already on you. “So here are the care instructions. Don’t change it for about two months and uh, just make sure to keep it clean and um yeah everything that you need to know is in here.”
He takes the packet, brushing his fingers against yours in the process. Hopefully the way that you shivered wasn’t too obvious. Are you really that down bad? Usually you’re witty and flirty, you tend to have a pretty smart mouth with customers but as soon as you saw Hyunjin all of that went right out the window. 
“Your card.” He nods towards the display on the desk and you quickly grab one for him.
“It has the shop number and my instagram on there. If you want to contact me directly, Instagram is the best way to do it but I’m here almost everyday. If I’m not coming in, I'll post it on my story.” He flips the card between his fingers allowing you to get a good look at what you wish were still grabbing at the tender flesh of your thighs. Your focus breaks when he rubs the card between his fingers and a second one falls to the counter. “Oh, must’ve given you two by accident.”
“So I’ll message you.” Standing straight he slips the card into his pocket. “If I have any questions.” He takes a step back, taking you in one more time. 
“Yeah, I’ll answer as fast as I can.” 
“Baby, did you use the last of the caps?” Minho calls from the storage room and the scoff that follows makes Hyunjin laugh. 
“Stop calling me that for goodness sake.” With the flash of a quick smile and mumbled goodnight you leave Hyunjin at the front and head over to your annoying cock blocking ex. Once you get to him you see him leaning against the storage room door with his eyes on his phone screen. “I thought you were looking for caps.”
“Nah, figured that you needed me to save you. That guy should’ve been gone already.” Did he seriously just ruin any chance that you had at getting laid tonight? And by a man as hot as Hyunjin at that. 
“We were talking.”
“You don’t do small talk.” Minho’s pinched brows earns him an eye roll as you head over to your station. “So he wasn’t bothering you?”
“Far from it.” The way that you’re aggressively cleaning your tray gives Minho all the hints he needs but it would be out of character for him to just drop the topic.  
"Then what was he doing?" Minho asks in his teasing tone that you’ve grown to be more than familiar with. You pause and sigh as your mind lingers on the feel of Hyunjin’s fingers gripping you and the sounds he made with each hint of pain. 
"He was trying to make me interested." 
“Was it working?” The silence that followed his question spoke louder than any words could. “His number is on the form ya know.”
“Just lock up, Minho. I’m not breaking any privacy laws just so I can get fucked.” He throws his hands up in surrender, backing away and heading to the front. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath to try and contain the many emotions running through you. You should’ve been on your game tonight but Hyunjin just threw you off. You haven’t been that attracted to anyone in so long that all of your skills went right out the window as soon as he looked at you. Maybe he’ll message you? Ask you a question or two and then ask you out. What if he doesn’t? What if Minho scared him off and you never hear from him again?
“Baby.” 
“Lee Minho, stop calling me -” You pause when you turn to him, looking down at the card he’s offering you between his fingers. “What?” He extends his arm to you further, earning his third eye roll of the day as you snatch the cardstock away from him.
“It’s my card.” You shrug at him.
“Turn it over.” Your pulse picks up a bit once you notice the red ink on the back of the card. Hyunjin’s name and number is written in pretty symbols right across the middle with a small note. ‘Call me, baby.’
“I’ll stop calling you that now.” 
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Sleep didn't come easy last night but you sure did at the thought of Hyunjin. It doesn't help that you texted him immediately and he didn't waste a second before replying to you. Your night was spent getting to know him a bit as your mind danced on the idea of him fucking you into your mattress. The amount of time that you pretended that your fingers were his slender ones while you answered one of his questions is actually award winning. The taping of your cum covered fingers against your screen went on until you tired yourself out and fell asleep while waiting for his next text. 
“Going out.” Minho looked up from the sketch book in front of him just in time to watch as you grabbed your jacket from the chair next to his. 
“Did ‘baby’ call?” For the first time in a while you find yourself smiling and unbothered by his teasing. “She's smiling, did you finally catch a dick.”
“I'll let you know in a couple of hours.” The look on Minho’s face isn't one that you see often but it's your absolute favorite. “I'll be back, baby.”
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You barely got to knock twice before the door to Hyunjin’s apartment swung open. He looks just as good if not better than he did last night and the fact that you’ve gotten to know him a bit better over text for the past couple of hours makes you feel like a college student sneaking into someone's dorm after curfew. It’s safe to say that you have a big fat crush now.
“Hey, nice piercing.” He pulls you into a quick hug before ushering you further into his place. Your eyes wander across his walls, taking in every detail. He really is the artsy type. 
“Thanks, some girl did it for me last night.” He watches you take in his space with hungry eyes, no matter how much he tells himself that he just met you and that he wants to take it slow he can’t seem to pace himself. The amount of times that he came into his fist last night just thinking of how pretty your nipple piercings must be and how your thighs would wrap perfectly around him is insane. Unfortunately, the orgasms didn’t put out the fire that burned for you deep in his stomach, it only made the flame bigger.
“Oh yeah?” You face him as you peel your jacket off slowly, letting it slide off of your shoulders and down your arms so gracefully that he couldn’t possibly ignore it. “Was she hot?”
His eyes fix on the fabric stretching tight against your chest, how dare you call that a shirt. It’s keeping little to nothing to the imagination but he can’t say that he’s mad at it. “So fucking hot, I couldn’t stop staring at her.”
Your jacket finds a home on the arm of his couch while you check out the paintings on his living room wall. The stretched canvas and sheets of beautifully stained paper are littered all over the ivory wall, serving as the only real means of decoration in this area of the room. “Do you think that she noticed?”
The energy around you turns electric as he steps up behind you, just close enough not to touch you. “I hope that she did.” 
“Why?” Your breathing is slow and shallow as your eyes run across the colors of the paintings on the wall. You’re not really taking in the beauty of the art anymore, you’re more concerned with the masterpiece standing behind you and what he’ll say next.
“So that she doesn’t feel surprised when I say -” He leans into you, fiddling with one of the paintings and pressing himself lightly into your back. A blistering heat washes over you at the feel of him against you. It’s so much more than you imagined it to be. “- That I think that she’s beautiful.”
He reaches for another painting, stepping forward just a bit to be closer to you. “And that as much as I want to take it slow and get to know her -” He slowly retracts his hand, stepping back and breaking all contact. You sigh, swallowing hard as you hang on each of his words. “I just can’t go another second without knowing what she feels like.”
You turn your head to the side, catching a glimpse of his burning gaze as he stares down at you. His dark eyes are undressing you before he even gets the chance to touch you. Something like you did to him yesterday. “I think that she’d feel the same way.” It’s a bit of a challenge but you manage to hold eye contact with him as you turn your body to face him.
“You think she’d let me touch her?” Eyes, lips, chest and repeat. That’s the pattern that his gaze follows while he waits for your answer. 
“I think she wants you to, so so badly.” His eyes meet yours and his hands are on you in an instant, grabbing at the plush of your waist and pushing you against the wall of art work behind you. 
“Thank god.” He whispers against your lips before attaching them in desperate hunger. The sound of paper and canvas falling to the floor is merely background noise in the heat of the moment.
He’s soft and sweet like honey, his touch is like satin against your skin and your head is fuzzy. Holy fuck. He swallows the moan that escapes you as you welcome his tongue into your mouth, offering his own sinful sounds as a counter. His hands are grabbing at the exposed skin of your stomach while he pushes your shirt up to expose more of you. Your hands fist the fabric of his shirt, you want him closer. You need him closer. He pulls away abruptly, staring down at you panting and flushed. He takes a step back and you take a step forward. 
“Think she’ll let me fuck her?” He continues to step back from you and you match each move that he makes. Your hands find the bottom hem of your shirt and you pull the fabric over your head, revealing your flimsy lace bra to him. A hiss falls from his lips as he falls back into his couch. Sitting with his legs spread and ready for you, the perfect seat. 
“You better fuck her.” Once you climb onto his lap his lips are back on yours in an instant. The kiss is hungry, desirous, passionate. It’s everything that you knew it would be and more. His palms rest on your breasts, kneading the flesh and flicking at the heart studs of your nipple piercings. A shiver runs over you at the feeling and Hyunjin smiles against you at the reaction.
“Sensitive?” He mumbles, following with a kiss and you nod with a deep moan. “Fuck.” He pushes your breast together, jiggling them in his palms while he watches with his bottom lip between his teeth. 
“I wanted to see these so badly last night.” You knew he was staring. “Wanted to run my tongue over these pretty little studs.” 
“What’s stopping you now?” You grind your hips into him, milking a choked moan from his throat. He’s so hard underneath you, his sweat pants are doing little to restrain his pulsing cock from pressing into your needy core but even that bit of pressure is not enough to satiate your hunger. His fingers peel down the lace of your bra and you watch as his tongue dips out of his mouth and swirls the silver jewelry. “Hyunjin.” 
He hums, content with the way that his name sounds falling from your pretty lips, it’s then that you remember last night. Praise and pain, those are his things right? Let’s test it out.
The feeling of his tongue laving over your sensitive peak breaks you out of your thoughts and fogs your mind all over again. He shows both of your breasts equal attention, wetting your nipples with long drags of his tongue followed by a skillful swirl of the muscle around your shiny silver bars. “ So good, oh my god.” He hums, sucking a bit harder at the sound of your sweet words. 
Your fingers lace through the wine red strands of his hair, scratching and rubbing at his scalp for a bit until he grazes his teeth over the sensitive peak of your nipple. You’re pulling at his roots before you can even process it but the pornographic moan that escapes him as he falls into your touch makes you happy that you did it.
“A pain slut?” Matching smirks paint your faces but his is quickly swept away when you bring your other hand up through his roots and pull again. “I knew it.” You grind into him, the moans escaping him are making you hungry for friction all over again. 
His hands grasp your hips, gripping you so tightly that you’re sure there will be beautiful bruises there in the morning. “What gave me away?” His eyes stay on yours as you hold his head back by his hair. Yesterday his gaze was blinding but tonight you find it easier to handle the heat that it causes to rise on the surface of your skin. You’re okay with going blind if he’s the last thing that you see. 
“Hm.” His eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your lips ghosting over his pulse “Maybe it was the way you moaned when I stuck you.” Sloppy kisses and small nibbles of his milky flesh draws a moan similar to the one that’s been playing in your head all night to leave his blushed lips.
“Or the way that you grabbed my thigh.” Your teeth sink into the flesh of his neck and the sound that he makes in response is nearly enough to make you cum on the spot. “Or how hard you were when I was finished.”
“Do that again.” So biting is his favorite, huh? 
“Say please.” 
“Please, do that again. Bite me, harder. Please let me feel that again.” He’s begging? You’ve never been with a man who was willing to do that. A mumbled praise makes his cock twitch against you as one of his hands slips down to your ass, gripping the cheek firmly but not squeezing. Your teeth sink into his neck again, a deep guttural groan escapes him while his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass through your jeans. “Oh, baby.”
You pull away at the feeling of a warm spot beneath you. When you look down at your clothed cores the sticky wet spot presents itself to you. He came just from you biting him and he's still hard. No fucking way.
“You made a mess.” A familiar darkness falls upon his gaze and now it's your turn to moan from the grip he has on your hair. “Clean it up for me, angel.”
You crawl backwards off of his lap, lowering down onto your knees as his grip in your hair ensures that your eyes stay on his. He shimmies his pants down with his free hand, your eye contact falters for just a second so that you can steal a glance at his cock. He’s bigger than you thought he’d be, long and curved ever so slightly. The angry red tip is glistening with cum in the low light, you run your tongue along your lips at the thought of sucking him clean. 
“One day you’ll give me a pretty tattoo right here, won’t you?” He pulls your hair towards him, controlling your head so that you lean into his hip. You plant a sloppy kiss against his skin, nipping and licking like a desperate puppy. His cock twitches at the feel of your lips on the newly discovered patch of skin. “I’ll be hard as a rock with your pretty face so close to my cock.” He moves your head over just enough for you to lick up some of the cum from his flawless thigh. 
“You think you could do it? Think you could be that close to my cock and not put me in your mouth?” Little does he know that you’ve already thought about it and the answer is no. Hell no, absolutely not. “Maybe it would be me who loses control.”
He yanks back on your hair, lifting your head back up to meet his gaze. He brings his bent pointer finger to your chin and runs his thumb down your swollen lips. “I have a feeling that I’ll be addicted to this mouth.” His eyebrow piercing catches the light as he stares down at you and you can’t help but to feel turned on by the fact that you did that to him. You’re responsible for that pretty stud on this pretty man. 
“Let’s see if I’m right.” You open your mouth eagerly once he sits back and guides you over to his waiting cock. A hiss escapes him once you take him to the hilt, swallowing around him with watery eyes. He marvels at the way your pretty lips stretch around him, taking every single inch of him until his tip makes your throat bulge and your mouth water. You bob your head, licking and sucking him clean. The taste of his cum is so sweet, so perfect, maybe you’re just insanely horny or maybe he’s your new favorite candy. The only thing you’ll have a craving for from this point on. 
“That throat is taking me so well.” The vibration of your hum makes Hyunjin bite his lip as he watches you. You bring your hands up to his naked thighs and claw your nails lightly down the exposed skin. His cock twitches in your mouth and your pussy throbs at the feeling of it. You’re a big fan of foreplay, it’s super important and fun and everything but you would do anything to skip all of this and simply feel Hyunjin’s cock sink into your dripping pussy. “This is what you wanted yesterday isn’t it? This is what you wanted when you were staring at my dick?”
The deep rasp of his voice as he asks such filthy questions makes you press your thighs together, Hyunjin moves his foot in between your knees. Kicking your legs apart and taking away the relief you were chasing.
“Need me now?” Your desperate gaze up at him is all the answer that he needs. He lets go of your hair and you slowly come up off of his cock, swirling your tongue around the tip a bit and releasing him with a string of spit still connecting you. He offers you his hand to help you up off of your knees before dropping to his own right in front of you. 
With a burning gaze on your naked stomach he unbuttons your jeans and slowly drags them over the curve of your hips. His eyes scan every inch of newly exposed skin, leaving sweet soft kisses against the silky skin of your thighs. He takes a deep breath before pulling your panties down, his hands lingering against your bare skin as he admires your body. He leans in and places a soft kiss against your exposed center once you step out of your panties. What was supposed to be a simple kiss turned into a few kitten licks against your clit which then quickly evolved into long drags of his tongue through your folds while he palms your ass. 
“Hyun- Hyunjin holy fuck.” Your fingers thread into his dark strands again, lightly pulling at his roots and milking moans from him. “Please fuck me. Please just fuck me I want to feel you.”
“Gotta get you ready.” He spits onto your clit, watching it drip down your lips a bit before catching with his tongue and spreading it over your folds. “I need my girl dripping around my cock.”
His lips wrap around your clit and you throw your head back in a silent scream before looking down at him. His eyes are closed as he laps at your pussy, sucking and licking like his life depends on it. You admire the shimmer of his fresh piercing as you watch him, pathetic whimpers falling from you as he dangles your orgasm in front of your face. You’ve been thinking about him for hours and now you’ve finally got him. You get to cum on his tongue and watch him slurp up every drip of your essence.
“I’m gonna cum, oh my god.” Your grip on his hair tightens and he hisses against you. He swirls his skilled tongue around your swollen clit a couple of times and you can feel the blistering heat setting all over your body. You’re so close, it’s so good and then he pulls away.
“Hyun-” Your whine is cut off by the soft yet aggressive feeling of his lips on yours.
“I want you to cum on my cock.” The taste of your pussy on his tongue distracts you from the feeling of him guiding you to the couch. He pushes you down, watching you with a smirk as he pushes his damp hair out of his face. You watch as he pulls his shirt over his head, balling it up and using it to dap at the sweat on his forehead before throwing it to the side with the rest of your clothes. “Do me a favor.”
His fingers dig into your plush waist as he positions you. He props his knee on the soft cushion,  lining himself up with your entrance and teasing your sopping folds with his leaky tip. “Anything.” You fist the pillow right above you, placing it under your head to get a bit more comfortable. 
“Call me baby.” He slips into you before you can even reply to him, stretching you out so deliciously and filling up your gushing pussy until his tip kisses your cervix. The moan that echoes through his apartment is high pitched and airy, your lungs burn from the electricity charged air as you cry out for him, gripping at the couch cushions as you try to ground yourself.
“Baby.” The first time that his hips snap into you his jaw clenches and his eyes roll to the back of his head. His imagination barely did you justice last night, his fist is nothing compared to the way that your pussy is clenching around him. The ungodly squelches of his cock plunging into you sends shivers down his spine. 
“Fuck, you’re heaven.” He coos, the rasp in his voice makes your pussy clench around him as he presses your thighs back towards your chest. Hyunjin picks up the pace, snapping into you with unholy force. 
It’s been so long since you’ve felt anything but your own fingers and it’s been even longer since you’ve been fucked this good. Not even Minho can top this and he was the best fuck you ever had. The mascara stained tears running down your cheeks translates all of that to Hyunjin without you having to say a word, it’s not like you could say anything but his name even if you wanted to. Your orgasm creeps up on you again, dangling in front of you like bait for a fish.
“Hyun - Hyunjin please don’t stop. Gonna cum gonna -” You cry out as he slams into you, filling you to the hilt and staying as still as possible. “Please please, ‘s so close please.”
“Not yet, baby.” he beckons you with two fingers, motioning for you to sit up. He helps you up, shifting your position so that you’re on top of him. You clench around him at the movement and he hisses at the tight feel of you. He’s close too but he wants you to fall apart on top of him. He wants to see you fall apart up close so that he can fuck his fist to the memory of it for days after.
 “Ride me, come on.” A firm slap to your ass makes your hips buck into him as you start to move along his length. 
You’re fucked out, chasing your pleasure desperately on top of a pretty man with a pretty cock. He wraps his arms around you, hugging you against his chest when he suddenly starts fucking up into you. He’s impossibly deep and you find yourself gasping for air against his shoulder. Moans and grunts fill the hot air as you fuck each other. For each thrust into you, you grind down on his cock, keeping him deliciously deep in your cunt. Your teeth mindlessly graze over the slope of his shoulder before you bite down into him. Bite, lick, suck. That’s the pattern you follow, over and over again. Making him sing for you as his fingers caress your spine. 
“Come on, you can do it harder than that.” He gasps when you accept his challenge, biting into him with a bruising force. His thrusts become more erratic as he nears his climax but he’s determined to let you soak his cock before he pulls out. “Look at me, baby.”
He leans back into the sofa and his hand moves between your bodies once your eyes meet his. His middle and pointer finger rubs circles into your clit while he ruts up into you “Yes yes, yes ‘s so good.” 
“You like my cock, pretty girl?” The fog in your brain is so thick that you can’t help but to babble as your orgasm climbs up your spine for the third time tonight.
“Love it. Love cock, you -you’re cock. Hyunjin, ‘m gonna cum o-on your cock.” He thought that you were breathtaking before but watching you cock drunk and fucked out while you’re bouncing on his dick might be his favorite way to see you. 
“Go ahead, cum on my cock.” With a few more sloppy thrusts your body trembles against him as you come undone on top of him. He fucks you through it, keeping his fingers pressed against your clit as you squirm on top of him. Your vision goes white and there’s a ringing in your ears that blocks out every word of praise that falls from Hyunjin’s lips. The only thing that you can register is the pressure of his cock as he simultaneously abuses your cervix and clit. 
“Hyun- fuck fuckfuck. So much. Too much.” Once you find the strength to open your eyes you're met with Hyunjin smiling up at you with pinched brows. “You can take it.”
“Pull my hair, baby.” Your trembling hands find their way along the familiar path of his scalp seconds after his request. Pulling at his roots with a delicious force that makes Hyunjin’s eyes roll back as he licks his lips.
“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” Moans and whines fall from you nonstop as he fucks into your swollen and sensitive cunt, the wet sound of your arosual where Hyunjin’s cock disappears into you echoes off the walls until he stops, breath hitching in his throat. “Come here.”
His hand is in your hair before you can protest, lifting you off of him and onto your knees. Your cunt feels so empty without him inside of you. “Gonna let me cum on those pretty tits?”
“Yeah, yeah please. Wan' your cum, baby.” He throws his head back, pumping his slick cock in front of your face while you mindlessly slur praises for him. “You’re so fucking pretty, please let me have it. Please, I wan' Jinnie’s cum.” 
“Baby, baby, cumming. I’m fucking cumming.” You both watch as thick ropes of his cum paints your breasts. Dripping over your nipples and the shiny studs just how Hyunjin pictured it last night. “Shit.” 
Your panting fills the room as you both take a second to come down from your high. Hyunjin offers you his hand, helping you up from your knees and catching you when you stumble a bit with a chuckle. “Let me clean you up so you can lie down.” He sits you on the couch, grabbing his sweats and pulling them on before making his way to the bathroom for a wet cloth. 
You blink a couple of times, trying your best to adjust to the light around you. It’s dim but everything seemed darker in your fucked out haze. You settle against the armrest of the sofa, smiling like an idiot while the pulsing of your clit reminds you of everything that just happened. Who would’ve thought that an eyebrow piercing could lead you to having the best fuck of your life. Just as you allow your eyes to flutter shut you feel a heavy vibration under you. With a groan you lift yourself up and search for the source. It’s your jacket, it must be your phone. Oh my gosh, Minho! You sit up with all the strength that you can muster, unlocking your phone and checking your messages. 
“Everything alright?” Hyunjin questions as he kneels in front of you with a warm cloth in hand.
“Yup, just fine.” You grin down at your screen before pushing your phone to the side and allowing Hyunjin to wipe you clean.
From Minho: Knew you weren’t coming back.  
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navybrat817 · 5 months
Note
I need Bucky to blow my back out. 😮‍💨
Don't we all, nonnie?
You Asked for It
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 700 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: We'll call this a Wet Wednesday blurb.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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“I’d be better if Bucky blew my back out. How are you?”
You’re certain he doesn’t hear you say that in passing to Natasha after she asks how you’re doing, but super soldier hearing and whatnot. He smirks when he repeats the words in his head. The Sergeant may be an old man, but he isn’t that out of touch. He knows enough that you need him to pound your pussy and fill you to the brim. Fuck you so hard and so good that you won’t be able to close your legs or walk by the time he’s done with you.
Dirty girl.
He takes it as a compliment that you need his cock to have a better day and he’s more than happy to take advantage of that. And why wouldn’t you want him? You both know you have a greedy cunt and find any excuse under the sun for him to be inside you, your body always wet and ready even when he doesn’t stretch you out.
Not that he’s complaining. He’s shocked he doesn’t have a permanent hard-on with you around. Your pussy is the gateway to heaven, miliking him for all he’s worth. Because isn’t it a form of worship to paint your wet and quivering walls with his seed?
So later once he has you in his bed where you belong, he spends a minute just looking at your twitching hole as he spreads your glistening folds. His cock throbs and he doesn’t waste time making you beg. Instead of splitting you open the way he wants to, he slowly and deliberately slides into you inch by inch. You welcome him home with whimpers and sighs.
He wants to fuck you until you cry how much you love him.
But he doesn’t move once his hips are flush with yours, giving you a smirk at your dazed and confused stare.
“You know,” he begins, tracing a wet finger along your cheek as you try to wiggle your hips. “If you wanted me to pound your sweet little pussy so bad, all you had to do was say so.”
You narrow your eyes and purposely clench around him, almost hard enough to make him throw his head back. “Then do it, Barnes.”
He feels all too smug when he pulls out and thrusts back in with enough force to make you jerk underneath him. “Should’ve put that pretty mouth of yours to good use first, but we have time for that later.”
For now, he gets to work.
It’s like time stands still when he pins you down and makes you take every single thrust. He can’t help but lean down to bite your bottom lip, wanting you lost in pleasure. “So fucking wet. Making a mess all over me. Fuck, you take me so well,” he praises, his gaze leaving your face only for a moment to watch your tits move.
Yeah, I'm fucking those later.
“Please,” you moan, trying to raise your hips to meet his. “Fuck me.”
“I am fucking you,” he groans, plunging himself deeper.
“Harder,” you beg.
You asked for it.
Minutes may pass. Maybe hours. But broken moans leave your lips as your pussy keeps opening up and taking Bucky in. Just like it was made to.
“Fuck, baby, I almost forgot what a slut you are for my dick,” he grunts before your eyes flash. You’re not quite cock drunk yet and he only chuckles when he thrusts harder, making your pretty eyes roll back. “Not just a slut. My slut.”
“Your slut,” you moan.
He glances down and watches how you swallow every inch of him. “Fuck yeah, you are. And you’re gonna take every fucking drop of me after you come,” he grunts. That has you moaning before he even gets a thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles just the way you like it. He knows you’re on the verge of a powerful orgasm and wants it to consume you. “Come. Don’t you fucking hold back.”
He feels your release coat his cock as you scream his name, almost triggering his own as he tells you what a good fucking girl you are. But he’s not done yet. Not by a long shot.
He’ll blow your back out before the night is over.
And if you’re lucky, he’ll put a baby in you, too.
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Um. Sorry? Love and thanks for reading. ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
2K notes · View notes
justlemmeadoreyou · 5 months
Text
secret little rendezvous*
Summary: Part 1 of friends with benefits!harry series. It's going to be full of smut, and also a tint of angst.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: SMUT!, kissing, dirty talk, degradation, p in v sex, jealous feelings
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"All I dream of lately is how to get you underneath me."
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
Harry was fucked.
Completely, utterly fucked.
In his defense, he was tired. He had been running around his workplace the whole day, managing the work of 4 people because they wanted to “spend the holidays with their family”.
And here he is now, staring at anything else he could find, other than the warm cunt beneath him swallowing up his cock with each thrust. The wall, the headboard, the ridiculous stuffed toy near the pillows, anything,  just so he won’t cum before you.
He knew that if he looked down, he instantly would. Flood your pussy with the pent up load of this whole shit week he’s had.
But you don’t mind. Given the point of being friends with benefits with him is getting an equal share of everything, but he gets a pass because he can get you off with his fingers easily, something others can’t.
So, you try and push him. Squeeze tighter, moan louder and arch your back just a lil’ bit more just to make him cum faster.
“I know what you’re doing, won’t work” he lands a hard slap to your ass, earning another moan as he increases his pace. Wet, sloppy thrusts, each paired with his grunts and your moans.
He grips your waist, leaning in so his chest meets your back, nipping at your earlobe while biting your neck below your ear.
“Hey, fuck off, man. That could be seen” you slap his shoulder, and he nips off, giving you a particularly rough thrust, making you lurch forward. The headboard bangs against the wall repeatedly, his thrusts paired with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin.
“At least they’ll know you get laid” he remarks, and gets back up, feeling a bit held off, reaching a hand below and rubbing your clit.
“Fuck, that’s not fair” you whimper, legs giving out beneath you. You squeeze around him harder, gripping the sheets as you get closer and closer.
“I know, baby. That’s why it’s fun” another rough thrust into your sloppy wet cunt and you’re gone. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, toes curling as the orgasm washes over you. 
“Oh fuck!” you curse as you bite your lower lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an incredible orgasm.
He already knows.
He cums soon after, grabbing your hips harshly as his thrusts become slower and shallower, , his breaths ragged and uneven against your skin. He repeatedly curses, your name intertwined between them as he empties himself on your back.
“Fuck, that was good” he slaps your ass a last time, making you whine. You put yourself down on the bed, but not moving too much because of the cum on your back. He falls on the bed beside you, eyes closed as he catches his breath. His eyes are closed, a sly smile on his lips, face glowing in the afterglow.
He gets up soon after, almost as if he timed the 30 seconds he had taken to recover. He walks to the washroom with his dick still hanging out, closing the door behind him. You stare at the door till you hear the sound of the flush, and he comes out with some toilet paper.
He climbs back on the bed, reaching you and wiping his cum off your back. He wipes it down completely, though it takes some time given how much he had cum, throwing the used paper into the dustbin nearby. You want water, but he isn’t one to care for you once you’re done, other than wiping off his release.
“Can you-bring me water from the kitchen?” you ask, already knowing what his answer is going to be, and mentally cursing yourself afterwards.
“What am I? Your boyfriend or something?” he shakes his head, picking up his pants from the floor and quickly getting dressed.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to give me water afterwards.” you reply, putting your head back down on the pillow so he doesn’t say that you’re watching him dress.
“It doesn’t. But, I don’t do that shit. And you know that'' he raises his eyebrows, but you don’t look up. Not at least till he’s out of the room.
Seeing the lack of reaction, he gets his coat from the couch and his phone, his keys, before yelling for a last time, “Close your door”
You don’t reply again, and he storms out, slamming the door shut behind him.
You really wish he cared. 
Just a little bit, maybe?
>>>
“I don’t want to do it” you reply to Harry on the phone with a hand on your head, pinching the skin to relieve some of the pain from your head throbbing.
“You didn’t have any problem before. Whenever I called, you would say yes” 
Ugh, you really really wanted to throw the phone across the room. Or at his face. If he worked in your department, you would happily call him in your room, and slam the phone at him.
“Well, I do now. My head is killing me and if you don’t shut up soon, I’ll throw this at you when I see you next.”
“So tonight then? I’ll stay away from you”
What?
“What? Tonight? Why?”
“Dylan’s birthday”
“Oh fuck.”
“Yeah. Fuck. And since he got you the “Special invite” you’re gonna have to be early for Dylan” he mocks you, because he had sent you a bouquet of flowers with an e-invite.
“Oh get over it.” you huff.
“Whatever. I’ll avoid you tonight. Don’t try and stick to my ass”
“You wish” 
With that, you cut the call.
>>>
Getting ready for the party, you were a mess. You did not want to go and get mocked by them for the bouquet, you did not want to see Harry and you did not want to leave the house either. It was so cold outside, and you would have to drive a good 4 miles because that bastard celebrates birthday like a teenager.
The party was average. There were only two people who teased you, Leah and Emily, oh, and Harry of course. Others had forgotten, and you were so grateful for that.
“So, you and Dylan. Huh” Harry came up to you, with a beer bottle in his hand. He was the one who told you to stay away from him, and here he was now, purposely coming and sitting near you.
“Shut up” you replied, taking a sip of your own drink.
You ignored him, looking anywhere else except him. You looked at the dance floor, where everyone was swaying their hips and moving with the music, the bar where they were serving drinks, anywhere.
And he did not like that.
“So, how was your day?”
You turned around 180 degrees, raising your eyebrows at him.
“What??”
“I said, how was your day? Or did your headache make you deaf?” another sip off his stupid beer.
“Seriously? Mr. Don’t stick to my ass is asking me” you pointed your fingers towards yourself “how my day was?”
“Yeah, I was just trying to make small talk”
“Well, wrong time. Shut up”
You went back to your own business, sipping your drink and ignoring him successfully. He seemed frustrated with you, and you were sure his nose was flared too. It was only for a few moments, because then his phone beeped. A message.
“Ah! Finally!” he drank the last few sips, and got up, throwing his unlocked phone beside you.
“Take care of it, will yeah? I’ll pay my bill and come back to take it”
That bastard.
It was a text from some Sophia, who was his hookup for tonight since you had said no. He wanted to show you that he had other people to sleep with, and that was why he threw his unlocked phone to go and pay for a drink from a party.
He really was a condescending dick, wasn’t he?
You sat there till you saw him turn back from the bar, and as soon as he was within your line of sight, you got up and left.
You saw him cursing while he picked up his phone, and he was most definitely cursing at you.
Not that you cared.
>>>
He didn’t call you for the next week, and a few more days after that. If he could act like a child just to tell you he has multiple hookups, something you didn’t really know about, you could at least pretend to not care.
Not that you did, no.
Next you two saw each other was at the Christmas party.
Some co-workers were bringing their kids, and so a few were asked to be dressed as Santa, Harry being one of them.
The Christmas party was more lively than stupid birthdays, and you were thankful for that. You had forgotten to book tickets to go back home, and last minute tickets were really not worth the raging dinner you had with your whole family. Most of the people would ask you about your boyfriend, when you were getting married, were you planning on having kids, how to raise them, where to raise them, all of which you didn’t want to worry about for at least the next two years. So, an office party followed by some takeaway and a Christmas movie marathon sounded perfect. 
>>>
Most people had arrived, and the place was buzzing with chatter and the slow sounds of Christmas carols playing in the background. Everyone was dressed great, adorned in festive attire with a Christmas hat perched on top of their heads. You had worn an oversized sweater, tucked in a pair of skinny jeans, and boots that you had bought a month ago. Wearing a Christmas hat, you didn’t look so bad yourself.
You took a drink from the top shelf that was made to be kept away from the children, and you wandered off, looking for Harry. He might be a bastard, but it was Christmas, so you could bear him for a while, say Merry Christmas.
Looking through the cabins, the corners, he was nowhere to be found. Maybe he was struggling with his Santa costume.
You found him soon after, struggling in one of the supply closets with his beard stuck to the zipper.
“Fucking hell! Oh for fucks sake!” he was continously cursing, while trying to pull the zipper down with limited strength. If he pulled too hard, the poor rented dress would definitely tear off.
“Want some help?” you leaned on the doorway, bringing your hand up to your lips as you laughed at his misery.
He looked at you with his resting bitch face, putting both hands beside his waist. He might look all tall and intimidating, dressed in all red with a big bod, but to you, he looked like a child who couldn’t even get his clothes right, and always messed them up.
You chuckled, before going over to him, trying to up the zipper and untangle it from the fake hair.
“Yeah, I’ve already tried that, smarty pants” he said frustrated, and you reached for your pocket, pulling out your lip balm.
“What are you doing with that? You know this is rented right? Don’t put lip balm on this!”
“Yeah, old man. I know” he rolled his eyes, and you began rubbing some wax on the zipper to smoothen it down so it’ll slide easily.
“And don’t tell me you don’t know how dirty these rented outfits are. This beard you’re wearing” you pull at it lightly, making him grunt, “is filthier than our kitchen. And you know how dirty our kitchen is”
He shakes his head, “Whatever, I just have to wear it for 2 hours or something, and then I’ll return this back”. He watches you intently as you rub the wax on it, and after a few tugs up and down, it smoothes out, and the beard untagles. You zip him up, and the red outfit fits perfectly on his tall form.
You take a step back, eyeing him up and down, with a smirk on your face. He doesn’t look too bad, he is tall and the outfit he’d gotten fits him quite well. The long trousers, the ridiculously large shoes, the cap on top of his head, he kinda looks hot.
He notices you checking him out, and puts his arms around his chest, pretending to try and save his sanity from you.
“Miss Y/n, what are you going to do to me?” he takes a step back, voice low and husky. And just for the fun of it, you decide to play along. You step forward, your steps synchronizing with his steps back, and he goes back till he bangs with a cupboard.
He looks at you with utter fear in his eyes, and you can’t help but bite back a smile, going all the way and gripping his waist.
Tightly.
He sucks in a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. He knows he can’t get too excited, or the next few hours will be a nightmare for him. 
You couldn’t be more tempted to put him into misery.
You pull yourself up, coming face to face with him, standing on your heels. He gulps down hard, knowing well how this will not end well for him.
You lean closer to his face, his lips just moments away from yours. Your hand shifts from his waist to his heart, which is beating widely in his chest. A thin layer of sweat coats his forehead, and the tension between you is almost impalpable.
Your lips come closer and closer to his, and as soon as he lifts his jaw to kiss you, you pull back, and go for his neck instead. 
It’s difficult with the beard in between, but you manage to lick a long stripe from his shoulder to his jugular, feeling his pulse on your tongue. You reach back and open your mouth, baring your teeth as you bite on the skin, nipping and pulling slightly to make a mark.
And to your surprise, he doesn’t stop you. Lets you bite and suckle at his neck till there’s a proper mark blooming on the side of his neck, the skin turning red. Your tongue glides over the mark, soothing the slight sting as you continue to tease him. He moans, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer, his hands finding your waist. It’s so easy-you could slide your hand down to his pants, squeezing his crotch and he’ll be done for. He’ll get hard and then be miserable while the kids ask to sit on his lap.
But you decide against it. Wearing that costume just for the little rascals to click pictures with him and make fun of him later. It was torture enough.
You pull back, and as expected, his pupils are blown out, eyes full of lust. And, as expected, he’s half hard.
You lick your lips, a little breathless as you look up at him. He looks down at you with the same lust and hunger, and you get week in the knees as he leans in and whispers, “You’re going to be sorry for that tonight” he reaches back and grips your ass, giving it a light squeeze, “on your knees”
Your stomach flips with anticipation as his words send shivers down your spine. You know what he means, and it only adds to the growing heat between your legs. You’re left with an open mouth as his grip on you is gone, and he leaves the room. You stand there for a good 5 minutes, before blinking rapidly and exiting the dark room to join the party.
The party was uncomfortable, to say the least. For both of you. You were hot and bothered, the wetness between your legs growing as you imagined him on top of you, his hands tangled messily in your hair as he fucked your face, drool and tears dripping down your face as his cock pushed in and out of your hot, wet mouth. His balls slapping against your chin, your nose deep in his trimmed pubes.The way his deep, husky voice would command you to open your mouth wider, to take him deeper.
You could almost taste him, the salty sweetness of his skin, the musky scent of his arousal. Your mouth watered at the thought of him filling you, stretching your lips and throat as he pushed himself deeper and deeper. And that was making your cheeks hot and red, thighs pressed together as you looked at him as if he was a meal, one which you couldn’t wait to devour.
And maybe someone else was looking at him the same way too.
Olivia, a co-worker, approached you a few moments later, a little bit tipsy because of how much she had been drinking since she got here.
“He looks so fucking sexy, doesn’t he?” she remarked, and you blinked, pulling yourself out of your imagination.
You don’t mind other girls hitting at him. Well you did, somewhat, till you found out he was hooking up with others as well.
“Hm?”
“Styles. He’s so damn hot. Can’t wait to fuck him in that santa costume tonight”
Oh no.
“What?”
“Oh you don’t know? He fucked me last Wednesday. Said his other hookup cancelled and he needed someone who didn’t mind. I said yes. I mean, “ she tilted her head, looking at him with a face that made you want to punch her. “What bitch would say no to that? Have you seen the ass on him? And his dick. Holy fuck. It’s so fucking bi-”
“Okay-I don’t want to hear about that” you stopped her before she practically drooled over him in front of you, and described how he fucked her.
“What? You don’t like to hear some good fucking. Oh come on, it’s not like you’re getting boned, are you? You’re so boring?” she rolled her eyes, before turning around and bumping her shoulder, walking away.
No way you waited 2 hours for him just to have her take him.
No fucking way.
With gritted teeth, you picked up your purse, and walked to Harry on the other side of the room. You pulled at his arm, to try and take him to the side to talk. He reluctantly walked, making you pull his huge body half the way.
“Hey, hey, patience, love. M’ not going anywhere. Can’t you wait for just a few more minutes? Then I’m all yours” he said with a smirk.
“Well, Olivia here was describing me how you fucked her last wednesday and how she was taking you home with her today. So, what is happening?”
“What? Olivia? Hell no. She’s super drunk, and I don’t want to be around her”
“Well, then hurry. Ditch this stupid party and…take me home.”
You whispered the last part, hoping you didn’t sound as breathless and desperate as you did. He was an asshole, but he was great in bed and the idea of her doing the same with you did with him, made you want to blech. 
“Awww, someone’s a bit romantic. You’re jealous, aren’t you love?”
Here we go.
“No! Why would I be jealous of that…that bitch?”
“There it is. Ugly emotion” he was smiling like a moron, and you felt so embarrassed. Jealousy, or any other emotion, wasn't supposed to be involved, but it eventually always does, doesn’t it?
“Alright, fine. Now shut up and take me home before I change my mind” you said with a frown, and began to walk away.
“Yes ma’am” he replied, following you closely.
>>>
Harry drove you both home, since you were drunk. You were sitting tilted with your back against the window, legs propped up on the sheet. He looked so sexy even when he drove, his jaw clenching every time there was a signal. He was rock hard in his pants, and he couldn’t wait to get home and fuck your mouth.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he slammed the horn, hitting the brake as the last signal before his street was on too. You giggled, biting your lower lip as you looked at him with doe eyes with your legs propped up on the front.
You leaned forward and turned on the radio, and he gave you a glare. As the song played on, you slowly hummed to the tune, twirling your hairs around your fingers and looking out the window. You were so nonchalant, and Harry did not like that.
“Do you have any idea how hard I am?” he growled, almost painfully. You had a complete idea of how hard he was. He had been so turned on since your encounter in the storage room, and seeing you jealous had probably egged him on even more.
“Hmm?” you turned your head and looked up at him with an innocent look, your hands crossed above your chest.
“Oh.” he chuckled, and you knew you had managed to reach his nerves, “Is it? You don’t know what I’m talking about?” 
You shook your head in a no, mouth falling open at the sight of him. He looked angry, as well as horny. Pupils blown out and eyes full of lust, cheeks red. Hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly, while he was controlling himself so much you had no idea. Restraining himself from bending you over and taking you right there in the backseat.
The car came to a halt, and you saw that the signal was on. The last signal before you pulled up to his house.
Before you could blink, he had opened his seatbelt, and was reaching over to your side, pinning your hands to your chest with his wrist. The other reached down, pulling your sweater up and revealing the top of your jeans. You looked up at him with wide eyes, and a cruel smirk was painted across his face.
“Harry-harry, what are you-” you murmured while he undid the button, unzipping your jeans and pulling it down with a harsh pull.
His hand immediately found your panties, and he pulled them to the side, his cold hand making contact with your wet cunt.
You shivered and moaned at the contact, eyes falling shut as his fingers caressed your swollen nub. He pushed one finger in, and you were a goner.
Your legs squeezed shut, mouth parting open as his ring met your lips, the coldness making you whimper. His finger was longer and thicker than yours, and only one was enough to make your walls clench.
A horn blared from the car behind, and your eyes widened. You tried to move your hands, but he had pinned them down firmly, his finger still deep into your pussy.
“Harry-there’s someone behind-they can see you-harry-” 
You were stopped by a crushing kiss to your lips, and seeing you hesitant, he pulled his finger out. Pulling back from the kiss, he put the same finger into his mouth, sucking the wetness, eyes falling shut at your taste.
“Know people can see. Though that turns you on even more, doesn’t it?” 
You looked down at your unbuttoned jeans, cheeks turning hot and red at his admission. You had a bit of an exhibitionism kink, and people looking did  turn you on.
“Knew it. You’re a filthy little whore for me, aren’t you? Good god, I’m so going to fucking ruin you tonight”
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You were holding on to that promise.
(part 2)
a/n: i spent wayy too much time writing this! no idea why? but i really liked the idea, and i just spiraled with it, and the next thing i know it turned into a series! anyways, let me know if you like this! if this gets enough notes, i'll definitely do a part 2! love you all!
please like, comment or reblog if you like this, i really appreciate every note 🥺🥺
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 6 months
Text
Green Eyed
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Pairings - Rafe Cameron x Reader (Jj x reader & Jb x reader)
Summary - You want Rafe to admit you’re his girl so you set out to make him Jealous.
Warnings - drinking, language, oral, sex, choking, scratching, name calling, slight manhandling. 18+
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The party was in full swing, red cups lined the kitchen bench and the stench of tequila wafted through the vents. You sat upon the couch, pressed between Rafe and Topper. Both of them talking above your head while you watched your best friend flirt with her coworker, you loved people watching. Especially at parties where they really let loose and show you their hidden personality.
“It’s rude to stare '' Topper jokes, his arm resting behind your head casually. Ignoring the glares Rafe was throwing his way, this usually caused an argument between the two of them. Rafe would say ‘don’t touch my girl’ and Topper would throw the ‘she isn’t your girl until you make her your girl’, it would just spiral from there. Honestly it was kind of draining, Rafe always telling people you were his girl but never officially making you his girl.
“So Topper, do you think Rafe is jealous?” You're adding fuel to the fire, smirking up at Rafe who’s brows are scrunched together in annoyance. You could practically feel the anger radiating off his broad frame.
“Why yes y/n, I do think he is jealous” Topper chuckles, his fingers dropping to your shoulder giving you a small squeeze. Rafe scoffs angling his body to face the both of you, anger still riddled his features.
“Please… I am not jealous” he states, no hesitation to his words. Your heart drops, did he really mean that? Or was he fucking around?
“Oh really?” Your eyebrows raise at him, a challenge. You were down for a challenge, you’d show him. “You wouldn’t mind if I did this then”.
Your lips are on Toppers before Rafe can even respond, your tongue invading his mouth. Your hands cup his jaw as his own hands greedily pull you in by your lower waist.
You feel his body move from beside you and when you pull away he’s storming through the party, fists curled at his side in anger. “That worked”.
“Sorry, I should have asked if that was okay” you say, giving Topper a soft smile which he reciprocates. “That’s alright, I’m down to make Rafe jealous any day. Bro needs to be knocked down a peg or two” he jokes, watching his best friend throw back shot after shot. The both of you laugh at how quick he was to leave, your feeling rather cocky until he’s pulling the girl you have such a deep hate for to his lips.
The breath is knocked out of you at the sight, his hands are feeling all over her body. She’s fucking loving it, practically humping him like a goddamn dog. He’s pushing her against a wall and slipping his fingers under her dress, the anger is bubbling within you.
“He’s a dickhead” Topper says beside you, his hand runs up and down your arm in a comforting friendly sort of way. “Don’t worry, I’m going to win this thing” you state, pushing yourself off the chair and storming into the dance floor.
There was no one else Rafe hated more than JJ Maybank and you knew he would be around here somewhere, your tapping Kiara on the shoulder giving her a smile which she reciprocates surprisingly. “Do you know where JJ is?” You ask, you don’t like your odds with her. She was fiercely loyal to her friends and hated Kooks to the core. She was a hit and miss when it came to being her friend, something you’ve dealt with since you were kids. “Probably outside smoking a joint”.
She’s turning back to her friends before you can ask anything else, you look back over at Rafe one last time and set out on your hunt.
Back inside Rafe is pulling away from the girl in front of him, turning back to the seat you once occupied. Grinning to himself when he sees you're gone, pushing the girl's skanky hands away from him and stalks back over to Topper. “That was low bro” Topper tutts, shaking his head at Rafe who rolls his eyes in response. “Where did she go?”.
“Oh you don’t want to know” Topper grumbles, Clearly unhappy you were going to use a pogue instead of a Kook. He was all good with this little game but didn’t like the idea of the pogues. “Tell me”
“Your not going to like it bro”
“Just fucking tell me!” Rafe shouts, fisting his friend's shirt in anger. “Went to look for Maybank”.
Rafes face is pure red, the vein in his neck threatening to burst. He shouts a few curse words and drops Topper back on the couch, storming his way through the house.
You're kissing JJ Maybank, someone you never thought you’d kiss. He always jokingly said how much you wanted him and would say he’d rock your world, you’d be begging to be a pogue, you just didn’t expect to be dropping to your knees in front of him.
“Right here?” JJ stutters, aware that you were not at all in private. Anyone could step behind the shade cloth and see you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. “Don’t be scared” you purred, stroking his cock slowly emitting a low groan from his chest.
Your tongue swirls around his head, swallowing him deep into your throat. Your cheeks hollow around him, tongue gliding up and down his shaft. He’s a moaning mess, fingers curled into your messy hair. Leaning against the wall for support, he was not surprised with how good you took his cock. “I always knew your pretty mouth was good for something” he groaned, rolling your eyes at his words you pushed him to the back of your throat, spit trailed down your chin.
Rafe was about ready to beat the absolute shit out of JJ, eyes staring hard from across the garden. His anger was radiating off him, his body shook with rage. “Fuck” he screamed, causing the bodies in the garden you scatter from him. Not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of Rafe Cameron.
The moment you hear his voice, you move faster against JJ, it only takes a few more strokes of your tongue and you're pushing him away and angling his cock to his exposed stomach. He’s shooting his load all over himself, eyes hooded and breath labored. He watched you pull yourself to your feet, wiping your mouth with your thumb. “Thanks” you breath, spinning in the spot you walk away from him and towards where Rafe and Topper stood.
You should feel slightly afraid with the way he’s staring at you, his eyes are dark with anger and the veins in his arms are straining hard. “Like the show?” You smirk, patting him on the chest. His fingers grip your wrist tightly and worry floods your veins at the tightness, screwing your face up in pain. Topper's hand comes up to squeeze Rafe’s shoulders, reminding him where he is and who he’s touching.
He lets your wrist go instantly but doesn’t say a word, you expect him to cave and admit he is jealous and finally ask you to be his girl. Instead he is once against stomping away, you roll your eyes hard and turn to Topper.
“He’s so damn stubborn! What the fuck!” You exclaim, snatching the drink from Topper you skull the half warm beer and pass him back the empty bottle. “I need something stronger”.
A fair few shots later, you're dancing like an absolute mad woman with Topper and your best friend. Glancing around the room looking for Rafe, expecting him to be lent against the wall watching. “Where is Rafe?” You question Topped, he shrugs and goes back to dancing.
You step away from them in search for him, suddenly feeling nauseas that he’s fucking some one else up stairs.
Your opening doors and searching high and low for him, the last bathroom stares you in the face. You knock but no one says anything, gripping the door handle you open the door. Rafe’s eyes meet yours and evil smirk paints upon his face, your eyes drop to the floor where you're supposed friends kneels in front of him. His cock burried deep in her throat, tears of pleasure soaking her cheeks.
You're slamming the door shut and running away from the bathroom, tears are threatening to spill. Topper and your best friend are nowhere to be seen, searching the crowd for anyone to hide with.
“What’s wrong” John B is questioning, his arm comes around your shoulder pulling you in for a hug. It was no secret that you and John B got along, he was the only pogue who didn’t just look at you as a piece of shit or a piece of meat. “Rafe”.
That’s all you need to say, John B nods and pulls you up the stairs. You follow closely behind him, walking into a room unoccupied. Moving over to sit on the bed. “He’s just so infuriating, he won’t admit he’s jealous, he won’t ask me to be his girlfriend” you blurt, covering your face with the palms of your hands. “I am purposely going out of my way to make him jealous and he just one ups me, I just caught him getting a fucking blow job from Beck! She’s meant to be my friend!”
John B takes a seat next to you and pulls you into a hug, your fingers crunch up the material of his shirt in anger. Hiding your face in the crook of his neck, he lets you complain and mumble into his shirt for a few moments until he pulls you away.
He’s kissing you to stop your rambling, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. Moving your body to straddle him, his hands run up the length of your thighs. “Let's make him jealous and you’ll even get an orgasm out of it”
You're nodding your head and pressing your lips to his, grinding your hips into him. You can feel him growing beneath you, your wetness begins to soak the material of your panties. Your grabby hands bunch up his shirt until he’s throwing it over his head, your fingers dancing across his chest and abs.
Dipping your hands low to unbutton his shorts, you step off him and pull your dress over your head. Your breasts sat bare, John B’s eyes trained in on your hard nipples.
“Just to make Rafe Jealous” you state, he nods his head and you step towards him. He grabs you by the waist and pushes you down onto the bed.
Rafe is wild, running around the house and outside looking for you. Topper follows close behind him, they both search for you. “You took it too far bro, if you just told her you were jealous she wouldn’t have run off” he says, rolling his eyes at his best friend. Rafe comes to a stop and turns his body, running the palm of his hand down his face. “Shut the fuck up… I already know that! She’s mine okay and I’m going to show her that she’s mine!” He growls, storming back off again. He runs up the stairs, pulling open doors. He just about falls to his knees at the sight of you laying upon the bed, somebody’s head between your thighs. Your face screwed up in pleasure, explicit moans fall from your open lips. His hand shoots out to stop Topper from walking in and seeing you naked upon a bed, your head turns to the door in shock at the sound of Topper grunting.
You're coming around John B’s tongue at the sight of Rafe watching, his eyebrows creased and he steps into the room. “You’ve had your fun, now get out before I break your goddamn face AGAIN” he growls, his eyes don’t leave yours. He knows if he sees John B’s lips glisten with your arousal he will pummel him. He watches as you sit up slowly, waving your hand towards John B. “It’s okay” you say, giving him a look of ‘this is what I wanted’, he nods his head and pulls his shorts back on and stumbles out of the room.
You reach for your dress, but Rafe is quick to snatch it from you. “Give it back” you exclaim, reaching for the material. Your bare chest presses to his, you could feel the thud of his heart rattling against you. The heat from his anger radiated from his body, he dropped the dress and enclosed his fingers around your throat.
“You know I don’t like to share” he growls, he walks you back until the back of your knees press to the bed. Tightening his grip around your throat, watching your face flush red. You let out a choked cry scratching at his forearm, he lets go slightly and pushes you down on the bed. “You were jealous Rafe, just fucking admit it!” You shout, you dig your nails into his forearm causing him to pull away from your throat. “Fucking admit it Rafe! Fucking admit that you want me to be your girl! If you don’t, I’m done” you warn, you press your foot into his chest and push him away from you. He stumbles back into the wall giving you the opportunity to grab your dress and run around the side of the bed.
“Admit it… I’ll put this dress on and I’ll walk out that door. You’ll never see me naked again” your chest is heaving, anxiety bubbles in your stomach. You weren’t sure he would admit, he was stubborn and could be such an asshole when he wanted to be. You weren’t sure you could take it if he let you leave, you were in love with him.
You both stare at one another, you begin turning the dress inside out. Before you can slip your arms back into the holes he is once again ripping it out of your hands, grabbing your jaw instead.
“Your mine… I own you” he growls, smashing his lips to yours. A moment of weakness takes over and you kiss him back, reaching around his neck with both arms. “Wait Rafe no.. Rafe stop” you mumble pushing on his chest, he wasn’t going to get away with it again. “Fuck! Y/n, I love you okay! You're my girl.. your mine!”.
You forget how to breathe, staring at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t expected him to say he loved you. His thumb caresses your bottom lip, your breath fanning over him. “I love you to” you manage to squeak out, your lips are on each other again.
Your naked body pressing against his, his greedy fingers grab and pull at your skin. His fingers reach between you to cup your cunt, already dripping for him. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean I’m not going to punish you for letting fucking John B touch you!” He growls, biting down on your neck. You let out a squeal, legs opening just enough for his fingers to slip through and into your hole. “This pussy better be wet for me and not that fucking pogue” he states, his eyes have darkened with lust. His fingers roughly thrust deep into you, you let out a hiss when his thumb circles your throbbing clit. “Answer me”.
“It’s.. it’s wet for you Rafe!” You cry out, he drags his tongue down the length of your neck. Dropping just enough to enclose his mouth over your nipple, biting and sucking. You're trembling around him, nails digging deep into the skin of his shoulders. One of his hands holds your leg up, exposing your abused cunt to him.
“That’s it you dirty slut, fuck my hand. This is the only goddamn hand that’s going to be inside you until you die”
His fingers abruptly stop, pulling out of you sharply. The sound of your dripping cunt is heard over your gasp, your orgasm fizzles out leaving you high and dry. “Rafe! What the fuck!” You cry, he ignores you and begins taking his clothes off. His cock stands tall, he lets out a hiss when he fists the base. Pre cum drips down his hand, the tip is a deep red calling out to be sucked.
Your eyes meet again and he is quick to snatch you up, throwing you onto the bed like a rag doll. Moving your body so you were on all floors, ass up high and head down low. “I’m going to show you who fucking owns you and this sweet fucking pussy, do you understand me?”.
You're nodding your head furiously, your hair covering your face. A moment of sweetness he reaches down to gather your hair up and swipes it to the side exposing your face to him. That moment is quickly gone and he’s gripping your hips, he doesn’t give you a chance to steady yourself. Slamming his cock deep inside of you, no matter how many times you have fucked him he always stretches you out. Your cunt burns from the intrusion, his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. His own hips meet your ass roughly, his palm pushes against your back stopping you from looking back at him.
Your breath gets caught in your throat as he pounds into you, his cock hits so deep you think you can feel him in your guts. Your cries are muffled by the blanket, tears stream down your face as you chase your high once again. “Fuck your pussy never ceases to amaze me”.
His grip is tight and you're sure you’ll have bruises in the morning, he’s relentless, letting all his anger out on your pussy. “So fucking wet”.
His words just cause a waterfall between your legs, dripping all over his thick cock. “Fuck… Rafe! Fuck!”.
Your walls are sucking him deep, pulsating around him. “Please.. oh god please” you cry, you want to cum so bad it’s to the point of pain now. It’s stirring in your belly, toes curling and blacked out vision.
“Not yet”.
He’s pulling out of you again, clenching your pussy down on nothing. That orgasm so ready to explode fades away again, he grips your hair and pulls you from the bed. He manhandles you until you sit upon his lap, his cock teasing your lips. “Ride me”.
It’s an order, and an order you shall take. You're sliding down his cock, bouncing against him for dear life. “Fuck.. that’s it your dirty slut! Taking me like an angel but really you're the devil”.
He’s kissing upon your neck and chest, leaving behind dark red bruises. Marking you as Rafe Cameron’s girl. You did not care, you wanted everyone to know you were his girl. Your tits bounce, pussy swallowing him until you can’t tell where you start or he ends. Buried so deep within you, you feel full. “Such a Fucking perfect pussy hmm”.
“Yeah.. oh god Rafe! I can’t take it! Please please Rafe… please let me cum” you beg, gripping onto his shoulders as you bounce hard and fast. “Go on, cum on this cock. Show me how much you love me”.
You do as you're told, you chase that high. You chase it until blood drips down his shoulder blades, your body trembling above him. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ.. oh fuck! Oh my fuck—”.
You screams of pleasure can be heard from the first floor, your eyes squeezed shut, Rafe has to physically move you above him as you black out from the pleasure. His own release following, burying himself deep inside of you.
It takes you a few moments to come back to reality, your forehead pressed to his shoulder. Taking deep breaths to steady your heart rate, moving just enough to look him in the eye.
“You called me a slut” he’s quick to fall back into the usual Rafe he was when around you. “I didn’t mean it”.
“Good because if I’m a slut so are you… you let my friend suck your cock” raising your eyebrow up at him in amusement, he closes his eyes for a split second and looks back at you. “I think we are even”.
“Yeah alright, let’s call it even. So you do love me?”
“I do love you”
“Suppose I love you too”.
Tag list- @laylasbunbunny @h34rtsformilli @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @mrssturnioloo @darleneslane @tierra-0604 @xo-hayleyy-xo @ethereal0810 @eliana772 @gabys-gabs @applelovesposts @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly-blog @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @hdhdhsy @speedycomputerfury @tiacordelia02 @loverofdrewstarkey @bbycowboi @teresalesbian @imnotpretzelsstuff @its-ria-07 @jscameron @rafegirly (If you no longer want to be tagged please let me know and if you want to be tagged please let me know)
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incorrectbatfam · 6 months
Note
How would the batfam react to someone robbing the Manor?
Robber: *enters*
Dick: Oh good, you're here! Do these shorts make my butt look big?
———————
Robber: *taking things*
Jason: What are you doing?
Robber: Robbing you.
Jason: There's a safe in Bruce's office. Passcode is 0816. Feel free to take a crack at it. I'll be in the library if you need me.
———————
Robber: *picking the lock*
*door flies open and hits them*
Tim, on the phone: I'll be there in ten. In the meantime, tell Kon and Bart not to touch anything.
*door slowly swings shut*
Robber, stuck to the door: *slowly peels off*
———————
Robber: *pocketing antiques*
Damian: You must be Alfred's new assistant. I see you're already taking the initiative to get our family heirlooms restored. After that, I need you to do the laundry as I have run out of clean school uniforms.
Robber: Uh, no, kid. I'm robbing you.
Damian: Oh. In that case...
Damian: *stabs them*
———————
Robber: *walks in*
Duke, being kidnapped: Do you mind? We're kind of in the middle of something.
Robber: Sorry, I'll come back later.
———————
Robber: *enters*
Cullen: Hey, I know you're here to rob us, but I've been practicing some magic tricks to impress my boyfriend's family. Can you do me a favor and pick a card?
Robber:
Robber: *picks a card*
———————
Steph: *making a snack while wearing headphones*
Robber: *sneaks up behind her*
Steph: *throws a banana peel over her shoulder*
Robber: *slips on the banana peel*
Robber: *slides across the kitchen*
Robber: *gets tangled in the curtains*
Robber: *falls into a suitcase*
*suitcase shuts*
*suitcase rolls outside into the pool*
Steph: *takes off her headphones and turns around*
Steph: Did someone say something?
———————
Robber: *climbs in through the window*
Cass: Hi.
Robber: Hi.
Cass: You're a robber.
Robber: Yes.
Cass:
Cass: *pushes them out the window*
———————
Robber: *comes in*
Barbara: *looks up from her computer*
Robber: *slowly backs out*
Barbara: That's what I thought.
———————
Robber: Give me the TV!
Harper: Sure, just hold this for me please.
Harper: *hands him a grenade*
Harper: *pulls the pin*
Harper: *walks away*
———————
Robber: *unlocks the door*
Carrie: You must be our new bouncy house guy.
Robber: No, I'm robbing you.
Robber: Wait, you have a bouncy house guy?
———————
Robber: *enters*
Kate, with a clipboard: Name?
Robber: My name's Rob, I'm here to rob you.
Kate: Sorry, I don't have you on our list.
———————
Robber: *saws a hole in the wall*
Helena: What are you doing?
Robber: Robbing you.
Helena: You know the door's unlocked, right? I swear, it's like people don't even try nowadays.
———————
Robber: *unplugging the XBox*
Luke: Best Buy is just down the road.
Robber: ...You're Luke Fox.
Luke: Yes I am.
Robber: Champion MMA fighter Luke Fox.
Luke, rolling up his sleeves: Always nice to meet a fan.
———————
Robber: *ransacking the place*
Bette: Who hurt you?
Robber: What?
Bette: This isn't a healthy coping mechanism. Talk to me. I'm here for you.
Robber, breaking down: It all started when I was little...
———————
Robber: *sneaks in*
Alfred: Not on my watch.
Alfred: *drags them out by the ear*
Robber: Ow, ow, ow.
———————
Robber: *smashes the window*
Selina: Pfft, amateur. Let me show you how it's done.
———————
Robber: *steals the computer*
Bruce: *reading the newspaper*
Robber: *takes valuable jewelry*
Bruce: *still reading*
Robber: *lightly bumps into one of the batkids*
Robber: *turns around*
Bruce: *suddenly appears with the bat-glare*
Robber: I'm just gonna—
Robber: *gets instantly knocked out*
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yanderemommabean · 8 months
Note
ive had a thought about yandere sugar daddy like 👀👀👀 the chaos but also yes pls take care of me hehe
You tell him to fuck off and he keeps coming back. You don’t want his money, you don’t ask for it, that night was just a one night stand but he doesn’t really take your answers unless it’s yes.
He insists. Persists more than anything. You thank him for the gifts and even send some back but he simply won’t back off.
You think maybe if you sleep with him again it’ll get out of his system, so you have an admittedly mind blowing and earth shaking night together, but by morning you suddenly have a few thousand in your bank account and a cheeky smile greeting you when you throw a mug towards him in the kitchen.
“Oh hello! Anyway so about your plans tomorrow- if I pay you now care to cancel them? I’d love to have that time for me and you, business trips over seas get me jittery and you know just how to fix me up”.
“I don’t want your money” you sneer, blanket wrapped around your body as you try and explain this as thoroughly as possible, to get it through his thick skull. “I thought big business men like you would love a no strings attached thing anyway! Look just- stop, stop with the finance and everything. I mean it’s appreciated but not wanted. How am I even supposed to explain this to my tax guys?!?”
All you get in return is a snort, the man just sips from his drink and shakes his head. “Seems I owe Victoria that dinner in Paris” he murmurs “I forget the common folk can’t just pay off any issues. But this is your chance isn’t it? Just a bit of fun between the two of us for a while? “
Something about those words seemed hollow at best. With how hard he worked to break your walls down and get you back in bed, you were sure there was more than just playful fun. No. Those eyes held something more sinister, more dangerous.
“Fine. I’ll give you three months and we’re done. I’m also changing my bank account information and getting a new one entirely” you say as you turn around to get dressed and not look like you went through a bad dry cycle in the laundry room. You were too exhausted to try and think of anything else to say to him anyway.
He just smirks, reaching to pull you a mug down that wasn’t shattered in the sink behind him. His fingers brush over the ceramic as he thinks about when to get a matching pair. Maybe for Christmas? Valentine’s Day? Whichever fits the best.
Oh you’re so cute to think you can set a deadline with him. So precious. No, you dear sweet succulent being, no. You’re his. He isn’t letting you go. If anything, since he finally lured you back, his grip is tighter, more possessive.
He wonders if you’ll like the room he’s planning on building soon. Just for you. Then while you’re with him he can spoil you as he pleases, you don’t get to turn off your phone and ignore him all day then.
He’ll get to lavish you like you deserve. Maybe even spoil himself too if he’s honest, as he has a bit of an addiction to watching you fall apart from his touch and his words. Your eyes just look so pretty when they roll back like that!
-Mommabean (shush I’m not unhinged you are! Totally! I’m sooo not foaming at the mouth for this pshh no way! )
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evie-sturns · 3 months
Text
𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 - 𝙈𝙖𝙩𝙩 𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙤
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summary: you and matt had previously dated for a few years until him and his brothers grew famous, where matt became arrogant and self centered. fast foward to to present, a couple years later. you have moved on from matt completly until you run into him at an influencer party, what will unfold when you approach him? will you two rekindle or will the wall stay strong between you two.
contains: angst, arguing, swearing, fluff, making out.
—---------------└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘--------———
(2 years ago)
i lay on the couch next to matt, my head resting on his shoulder as the tv rambles. hes invested in his phone, typing every few seconds.
hes been filming videos with his brothers, chris and nick, for the past year or two, and they've just hit 3 million subscribers.
matt clears his throat before moving my head off him, "i gotta talk to you, yeah?"
my eyebrows furrow, i look over at matt who has an unreadable expression on his face. I nod slowly with a hum, "i don't know how to say this, but uh-... nick chris and i have decided to move to l.a with laura."
what?
"what?" i instantly reply, my stomach drops to my knees.
"gotta chase them dreams." he shrugs casually, picking up his phone.
anger starts to bubble inside of me, why the fuck is he being so nonchalant about moving across the whole country? what am i gonna do, just be left here and forgotten about?
"what the hell matt!" i say, raising my voice and slamming the phone out of his hand, he throws his hands up defensively. "are you being fucking serious right now?" i yell, "calm down bro?" he mumbles, picking his phone back up.
i stay silent, waiting for matt to speak, or atleast a solution. he just stays silent, looking around the room. "matt, what am i gonna do." i sigh, trying to contain myself.
"uh.. not sure?" matt leans back on the couch. "like you can come with if you want but i won't really.." he pauses for a few seconds
"have time for you..? i mean we're staying in lauras apartment which doesnt have enough space anyway but you could always sleep on the couch or something."
i scoff, "so this is it?" tears start to roll down my cheeks. "if you can't handle my fame and me moving then thats not my problem." he runs a hand through his hair before standing up.
without another word I'm upstairs and packing my suitcase, I'm leaving.
(Current time)
ever since matt and i's messy breakup ive been moving around alot, i spent the first month or so living with my parents, where i started content creating on various platforms. i would be lying if i said i didn't get popular, over the past 2 years ive gained a few million followers.
a year ago today i moved to l.a, where i've been thriving.
9:38pm
"y/n come on!" i hear yolanda, my roomate, shout from downstairs, today i've been invited to a party for influencers, i think. i run downstairs in my baby pink stiletto heels. yolanda is wearing a long shimmering black dress with a large slit up to the mid thigh. "hottie" i tease as i walk past her.
"shush" she replys with a wide grin, i walk outside to find our uber waiting patiently "yoyo!" i yell back to her as she scrambles around to find her purse.
i climb into the uber, "my bad, my friends coming now."
yolanda comes running outside, swinging open the door to the uber and crawling over me. i laugh slightly at her, she glares at me while applying lip gloss.
"you okay?" i ask her, "just nervous, its weird being a plus one to a party where i know famous people will be." she replies with a breath.
"you'll be okay gorg, i have no idea whos even going so we'll just stay together hm?" i say comfortingly, watching the lively streets of l.a outside the window.
the uber comes to a stop outside a large beachside mansion, i give him a quick thankyou before grabbing yolandas hand and approaching the house. the blaring music is audible from outside the house.
we walk up the stairs together, our heels clicking in sync on the marble steps. the doors to the house are wide open, the first person i see when i come inside makes my heart drop.
christopher sturniolo
my breath hitches in my throat, theres thankfully no sight of matt, i mean hes never really been one for partys. i feel physically sick when me and chris lock eyes, i guess i look different since the last time i saw him, 2 years ago.
I haven't really thought about matt since i moved to l.a, the last person i wouldve expected to see here is his triplet brothers.
i shoot yolanda a look, she looks equally has disturbed as me.
i decide to keep navigating through the various bunches of people, i look back and yolandas gone, flirting with some random instagram male model. i scoff with a smile.
i turn my body back around, an audible gasp escapes my mouth as matt sturniolo stands infront of me,
alone.
he smiles awkwardly with a wave, he looks me up and down while he clutches the cup in his hand so tight his knuckles go white. "you look different." matt says, his voice shaking from nerves
"charming." i roll my eyes.
"no!- no i meant in a good way, i mean in a platonic way, but you look different, sorry-.. how are ya doing.." matt rambles, stammering over every word.
a small smile forms on my face, which instantly drops when i remember the events of what happened the last time i saw him. "i've been doing really good actually." i reply, nodding my head slowly.
"yeah, i saw !thats awesome you got selected for that peoples choice awa-rds..." matt says before stopping himself, i laugh slightly.
has he been stalking me? that got announced an hour ago.
"thanks matt, how have you been?" i ask, he takes a small breath "i've been good, yeah.." matt says, he clearly doesn't think the world revolves around him like how he did 2 years ago.
another silence fills the air between us, but he breaks it. "do you wanna come with me?" matt asks abruptly, my eyebrows furrow "sure?"
he reaches out a hand subtly, i take it.
he guides us through hundreds of people, yolanda eyes me down with her jaw slack, i shrug my shoulders with a smile back at her. the night hair hits my revealed skin as matt lets my hand go slowly.
"should we go sit on the sand?" i ask quietly while we walk side by side on the footpath.
-
10:12pm
matt and i have been walking side by the shoreline for a few minutes, catching up on the past 2 years of no contact
"wait so you're at 6 million?" i laugh in shock, he shakes his head with a smile "shut up!!"
"no like, congratulations matt thats really awesome."
he shrugs it off with a playful nudge to my shoulder,
the past 30 minutes or so neither of us have brought up the last time we spoke, our last interaction, the final fight. i think we both don't want to ruin what we have going on right now.
a silence forms as the ripple waves crash onto the shore, my palms are sweating from the warmth from the night. "wanna go sit up there? in the dunes?" matt asks, pointing up the beach. "oh-..oh yeah!" i agree chirpily, snapping out of my somewhat 'trance'
he leads us away from the water up into the sand dunes, the mound of sand and grass behind us acting as privacy. he flops down onto his back, laying down on the sand. I lay down close beside him, our legs touching against eachother.
"i want to talk to you about what happened that night." i blurt out softly, just from the plain moonlight i can see matts cheeks are a deep maroon. he nods "yeah." with a shaky sigh.
"i was an asshole, like proper crazy." he says in a serious tone.
"honest to god i think the fame was making me go insane, i thought i was so much better than.. everyone? i never shouldve told you like that, or moved in general" he rambles, guilt painted in his voice.
"matt, moving was best for you." i cut him off, but he instantly snaps back
"i don't think it was? i miss you so much."
i sit up, the loose sand falling off my back "and i never really moved on, i'm so grateful i found you tonight 'cause the guilt has been eating away at me, and im so sorry, i am so fucking sorry." matt mumbles slightly.
i nod understandably "i think we needed the break, i can see you've changed a lot, for the better."
matt sits up too, sand grains scattered in his brunette locks as his tongue pokes out quickly to wet his lips. his eyes stare into mine before he reaches out a hand to grab my jaw, right under my ear.
"can I kiss you?"
i nod frantically "yeah-of course"
matt leans in, his body shifting on the sand while the calm waves crash onto the shoreline.
his lips meet mine, a distant familiar feeling that i hate to admit but ive really missed, even though ive forced myself not to.
his tongue asks for enterance, which i quickly allow. his tongue slips into my mouth,
i move my hair to one side before hooking one leg over his thigh, moving my body to straddle him while keeping our lips connected.
our kiss turns from gentle, to desperate. craving what we've missed for the past 2 years.
after a well-needed few minutes, we finally pull away from each other to catch our breath. panting fills the air before he pulls me into a tight hug his arms moving over my back as i stay seated on his lap. leaning onto his chest.
"i think we should retry, everything." he matt says into my hair as i rest my chin over his shoulder
"gotta agree with you on that one matthew." i laugh, joy overpowering me.
-
"matt there you fucking are!" a familiar voice yells from a few meters away. i look up, breaking matt and i's hug.
chris and nick are standing side by side with a shocked expression on their face. "holy shit!" nick laughs,
nick used to be one of my closest friends, but after the breakup with matt and i we were forced apart, i think after his brothers caught me ontop of matt it gave them the all clear to interact with me again.
i climb off of matts lap, running across the sand towards nick before leaping into his arms, the long fabric of my dress drowning nick.
"someone please fill me in" chris says cluelessly.
matt walks over to us 3, nick puts me down "uh yeah, we are retrying stuff after a chat, a really good one actually." he says, scratching the back of his head.
"oh my god thank you y/n, matt has not shut up about you for the past 2 years holy fuck." chris says after a dramatic gasp.
-------------
this took so long to write i hope u guys really like it!
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linorachas · 1 year
Text
maknae line + unexpected kinks
tags: marking, choking, cockwarming, manhandling, public space, possessive behavior, afab reader for sm
this is for anon who requested a maknae line version of unexpected kinks!!! i mostly write smut for hyung line so this was pretty ballsy of me to write all of the maknaes in one go *__* hope it's readable pls do not throw tomatoes at me i am but a wee silly little writer
hyung line version | buy me coffee? (৹ᵒ̴̶̷᷄﹏ᵒ̴̶̷᷅৹)
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HYUNJIN (marks)
Hyunjin hadn't thought he was this possessive.
But while he was fucking you into the mattress, he had accidentally left a bite mark on your shoulder as he lost himself to you and an orgasm. When he pulled back and saw you touch the mark with a dazed look on your face, the sight of it brought up something inside of him.
A deep, carnal need to see you covered in marks made by him and him alone. To see every hickey on your neck and know that it was from his lips. For everyone to know that only he could bruise you so prettily like this.
"Hyunjin," you gasp, "no- no more marks, People- they're gonna see-"
"So," Hyunjin growls against your neck. With his fingers tangled in your hair, he pulls your head back, giving him more space— more access to leave his mark on you. "So what if they see? Then they'll know to back off."
You squirm as Hyunjin's plush lips trail against your strained neck. You feel his hot breath first, then the sting of his teeth sinking into your skin before he sucks on it. It's one of the many, many marks he's left on your body today— from the inside of your thighs to your navel to your neck, but it still has you reeling like it's the first one.
He was going to make sure that he'll have you painted in his kisses, his marks, his bites, so that nobody will ever dare to put their hands in you.
Hyunjin was the painter, and you were his canvas.
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JISUNG (being vocal)
"Thank god Hyunjin still had some condoms left.”
“Please don’t—“ you gasp noisily, scratching your nails down Jisung’s back when he shifts and his cock hits just right, “talk about Hyunjin when you’re— god, ah, fucking me.”
Jisung smirks, cocky and smug and annoying when he says, “Can’t multitask, can yo-“ but he’s cut off with his own moan when you squeeze your walls around him tight, making him double over.
“Fuck, babe, don’t do that.” Jisung hisses into your ear, hips slowing down to a stop as he composes himself. “What if I cum too early?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“That was one time—“
“And it will never be forgotten.” You smirk, slapping his ass and making him jolt. “Now move, cowboy.”
Jisung sighs exaggeratedly. “I miss the days when you were just starstruck by my cock and would only say I was good.”
You roll your eyes with a snort, locking your ankles behind Jisung’s back, urging him to keep going.
“Well maybe if you fucked me that good again, I might— ah!”
Jisung’s entire demeanor shifts when he grips the fleshy part of your thighs, and your legs lift as he finds an easier position to pound into you. Your back arches at the onslaught of pleasure, but the movement only serves to make his cock press against your sweet spot more precisely, making you keen.
Jisung moves his hands, sliding them up so he could grab onto your waist tight, bringing you back down harder onto his cock. You slap your own hand against your open mouth, attempting in vain to muffle your lewd sounds. It doesn't work.
Jisung watches with a heavy gaze as you make noise after noise, unable to stop yourself from moaning and squealing every time he pounds his cock into you. Every mewl you made was music to his ears, and he wants to hear more.
Your hands scramble to cover your mouth again. Jisung frowns.
“Wanna hear you,” Jisung complains with a pout, lips brushing against the back of your hand as he leans in close. He grabs your hand and pins your wrist to the bed, letting your sounds filter through the open bedroom.
“They’re gonna kill us—“ you manage to say in between groans, writhing as one of Jisung’s hand slides up to thumb one of your nipples. “They’re gonna hear and we’re going to get kicked out—“
“Let them hear." Jisung mutters, feeling his cock twitch at the thought. "Let them hear how good I'm fucking you. Let them hear you scream my name. Let them know I'm making you feel good."
Jisung grunts with each thrust, punching moans out of you. He chuckles then, and with a glint in his eye, holds your wrists above your head.
"Let me hear you fucking scream, Y/N."
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FELIX (cockwarming)
When you slip inside Felix's room and sit by his feet, Felix had thought you just wanted some cuddles.
So even though he was in game, he takes a hand off the keyboard to run it through your hair and acknowledge your presence, letting his nails scratch against your scalp. You hum and lean into the touch, then rest your cheek on his lap.
"Keep playing." You had said. "I'm just bored."
And so he did. He kept playing, but his hand came down to stroke your head whenever a loading screen popped up. You were so quiet and so still under him that he almost believed your were asleep.
That is, until, you nuzzle against his crotch.
Felix jerks, and his character in the game dies. When he looks down, you're looking up at him with a sheepish smile.
"I'm bored," you repeat with a pout, and he immediately knows that whatever you say next, he can't say no to. "I just want it in my mouth, please? I'll stay still."
Felix frowns at that, confused. "You'll stay still?"
With a gleam in your eye, you say, "I'll show you," and you tug the waistband of his sweatpants down.
And fuck. He isn't even hard yet, but he's well on his way with how you hold him in your hand, guiding his dick inside your very own mouth. Your hot tongue slides against his shaft, and Felix all but shivers.
"Y/N-" he starts with a hiss, but you're already taking more and soon enough, you've got his whole cock down your throat. It's tight and wet and hot and Felix doesn't understand how he's going to stay still-
But then you're back to resting your head on his lap, cock still in your mouth. You looked like the very definition of sin, drool in the corners of your mouth and cheek bulging.
But your eyes, lidded and dazed, stare up at Felix lazily, like you had all the time in the world and you were going to spend it with Felix's cock in your mouth.
"You're-" Felix swallows. "You're going to stay? Like this? While I play games?"
You nod. It was a minuscule action, but it inched his cock further into the heated canal of your mouth. Felix's head sags back against his chair.
Fuck. He is so going to lose.
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SEUNGMIN (keeping quiet)
"They're gonna catch us, Seungmin, fuck-"
"They will if you don't shut up." Seungmin grumbles before pulling you into a kiss. It's so hypnotizing that you don't notice his hand slide down to your shorts, easily undoing the button with one hand before his fingers slip inside your underwear.
The moan that you let out when his fingers brush against your clit is loud, and he bites your lip in reprimand.
"Sorry," you try to whine quietly, even though you were busy squirming at how fucking good it felt to have his fingers rub circles on your clit. "I- ah, ah, wait-"
Just as you let another moan out, noises are heard from outside the door. A beat later, and you can hear Changbin's loud voice and Jisung's laughter.
Your legs close on instinct, but Seungmin's hand between prevented you from closing them all the way. He tuts and pries it back open with his other hand.
You look up at him, eyes wide. "Are you insane? They're right outsi- fuuuck,"
You grit your teeth as Seungmin chooses at that moment to slip a finger inside, slide easy with how wet you are. In desperation to help yourself stay quiet, you grab the edge of your shirt and lift it up to your lips, biting it between your teeth in hopes that it would muffle your sounds.
Seungmin's eyes darken.
The action had exposed your upper body, and just the sight of you doing your best to keep quiet was making heat pool in Seungmin's belly. You even had your fingers pressing against your lips, face contorted, but your hips were bucking into his hand like you'd die if you ever stopped. Fuck. Seungmin was salivating.
You startle when he presses you harder against the wall, at the same time he slips more fingers inside of you. He watches you, shirt between your teeth, eyes wide and desperate, and his cock jumps in his pants.
"You're going to cum for me," he says, tone leaving no room for protest. "But if you make a single sound before you do, I'm leaving you here. Understood?"
You clench around his fingers, and nod.
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JEONGIN (manhandling)
Jeongin knew he was strong.
No matter how much he said he hated working out, he still does it diligently, and it showed. However, he's never known to what extent his strength reached.
At least, not until he's got you pressed against the wall, cock so deep inside you that your legs were shaking.
You trembled with every thrust, toes white from how much force you were putting on your feet just to keep yourself up. Jeongin held on to you, of course, but you were fucked so stupid that your arms lost all mobility and were slipping off his shoulders.
Despite the struggle, you were still moaning in his ear, begging and pleading for more. To fuck you harder. To make you take it. So with a lust-addled mind, Jeongin found himself sliding his hands under your thighs, gripping the flesh tight before he easily and quickly hauled you up.
"Put me down-!" You gasp, eyes wide, legs locking around Jeongin's waist on instinct. "Yang Jeongin, are you cra- agh!"
But Jeongin couldn't stop now. There was something about you, helpless, nothing you could do but trust Jeongin to hold you up and just take his cock over and over and over again-
He was in so fucking deep. Your head thumped against the wall with every drive of his dick into you. When he leans in close, you can't do anything else but whimper and look up at him with glazed, teary eyes.
"You want more? I'll give you more." Jeongin whispers, hitching you higher up the wall. You let out a strangled gasp.
"Hold on tight, baby."
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sluttywoozi · 3 months
Text
Interlude No. 2 | ljh x reader
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Interlude No. 2: There's just something about waking up to Jihoon hard against you at 3 AM.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.9k | Pairing: ljh x reader | Genre: smut
Warnings: fingering, marking, size kink, big dick!jihoon, piv sex, creampie
Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina
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When you wake, the bedroom is still coated in darkness but for the moonlight spilling through the edges of your curtains. 
There’s a heavy arm thrown over your waist, a warm body pressed against your back, and something hot and large digging into your ass. Tilting your wrist, you check your watch, suppressing a groan when you see that it’s barely three AM. 
You’re not exactly sure what woke you, but you think it might have been the hips rolling into yours, or maybe the warm breaths puffing out onto your bare shoulder, or maybe even the mumbles and little groans sounding in your ear. Regardless of the cause, you’re awake now, and it’s only fair that the one who dragged you out of slumber wakes too. 
“Jihoon,” you whisper and turn your head slightly, just enough to make out the french braids you wove into his hair before bed. His face is slack with sleep, but he lets out a low hum and shifts closer to you, the arm draped over your body bending at the elbow so he can cup one of your breasts in his big hand. 
His cock twitches against you, leaking precum that seeps into your pajama shorts, and your body responds to his immediately, heat flooding your belly as arousal starts to gather between your legs. 
“Jihoon,” you try again, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and speaking a little bit louder. 
He shakes his head, burying his face in your shoulder with a low groan and squeezing your breast as if to soothe himself. If his dick wasn’t so hard, you’d let him keep sleeping, well aware that he needs all the rest he can get, but there are only two ways this can end. 
One, he can keep sleeping and grind himself to completion, leaving you both sticky with his cum. 
Or two, he can wake up enough to fuck you and fill you up, then go back to sleep. 
He’ll probably even rest better with option two, and you won’t have to get up and somehow work his boxers and your pajama shorts off to throw them in the wash. 
With your mind made up, you try one final time, “Jihoon.”
He startles behind you, taking in a deep breath and tilting his head up to stare at you, mumbling, “S’wrong?” 
“You’re, like, hard as fuck right now. Do you want to-” 
You haven’t finished speaking but he’s already releasing your breast and reaching down to tug his cock out of his boxers. You lift your thigh for him, feeling him push the seat of your shorts to the side so he can glide his dick along your bare, wet pussy. 
You expect him to slide home, but he tucks himself up against your ass instead, working a hand between your thighs and slipping first one, then two fingers inside of you. You make a questioning noise that ends in a moan as his fingertips graze the patch of nerves along your front wall, wondering why he’s drawing this out.
“Gotta open you up, baby, I didn’t fuck you last night,” he murmurs, spreading his fingers before letting a third join them, the stretch good but not perfect like his cock would be. 
You whimper anyway, clenching around his fingers as they prod into your sweet spot, your leg beginning to tremble from both pleasure and the time spent holding it aloft. “I want you inside.”
“Just a little longer, baby,” he presses a kiss to your shoulder, nipping at the skin and making you shiver against him. You don’t know if he’s aiming to make you cum or not, but you’re nearing the edge anyway, his agile fingers like magic inside of you. 
It doesn’t help that you feel so safe, so secure, bundled up against him like this, his muscled arm laying over your hip and his toned chest pressing against your back. It especially doesn’t help that he’s started whispering to you, or maybe to himself, little sentences like, “So fucking hot and wet, shit,” and “God, I wanna feel you on my cock,” and, “I was dreaming about you, that’s why I’m so goddamn hard.”
“What was,” a sharp gasp interrupts you as his thumb swivels to strum your clit. “What was happening?”
“It was our honeymoon, and you were riding me on the balcony, bouncing on my dick like you were made for it, fuck,” he forces out, curling his fingers hard to dig into your g-spot as if you’re to blame for the dream.
“We-We’re not married, Jihoon,” you breathe out, trying not to buck your hips into his touch as he brings you higher and higher. 
“Not yet,” he mutters, muffling it in your shoulder. You hear him anyway, turning your head to try to get a look at his face just as he starts moving his fingers even faster. 
“What does that me-” 
You’re tipping over the edge before you can finish your question, the fact that you even had one escaping your mind as it unspools and reforms in the same of him. He doesn’t help you through it like he normally does, dragging his fingers out of your fluttering walls much to your vocal displeasure. 
Before you can summon the words to complain, he’s holding your thigh up with his wet-with-you hand and tilting his hips back, aligning himself with your aching entrance. He pushes inside you with less finesse than usual, starting off slow for the first couple inches then rolling his hips and shoving the rest in. You attempt to breathe through the fullness, reaching down to cover your lower belly where you can almost imagine him protruding, his dick is that big inside of you. 
It always is, and as much as you wanted him to skip the foreplay before, you’re glad he didn’t. 
He lets your thigh down, covering your hand with his and pressing until you’re sure you can feel him moving, groaning to you, “Fucking tight, shit.”
You can only moan in response, a wavering, thready sound, your senses overwhelmed with him. He’s all around you, his scent, his voice, his body heat, and with him inside of you too, it’s almost more than you can take. 
There’s no build up, no testing thrusts, he just starts fucking into you hard and fast, the slap of his hips against your ass loud in the quiet darkness of your bedroom. The sound of the city below you is dull white noise compared to his huffs and groans and the whimpers that get punched out of you with every movement of his. 
He doesn’t let up for a moment, his hips rolling into yours and his cock bullying through your clenching walls to tap your g-spot, his hot breaths of exertion warming the back of your neck. He’s still holding your hand down, but his fingers have woven between yours, started pulling you back into his thrusts so each impact is that much more devastating. 
You feel mindless with it, your mouth stuck open and your eyes squeezed shut, tears gathering on your lash line as he fucks you like he’ll never have the privilege again. You expected something lazier, something softer when you woke him and offered yourself, but he seems desperate and needy, as if his dream showed him something he wants but can’t have. 
You wish you could reassure him, but you can’t remember what his dream was about, even though you know it shocked you a little bit. He’s just too big inside of you, he takes up all the space in your cunt and your heart and your head. Thoughts aren’t a luxury you can afford when he’s driving into you like this, when he’s jerking inside you and spitting precum, when he’s sucking marks and muffling moans in the curve between your neck and your shoulder. 
Everything about him turns you on, lights you up, makes you want him more, and that’s something that will never change. 
Something else that will never change is how fucking easily he can make you cum. As soon as he pulls his hand away from yours and sinks it between your thighs, you know you’re a goner. His talented fingers swirl circles into your clit, your moans growing higher and higher until you’re keening for him, your face crumpled in pleasure and your pussy clamping down on his cock. 
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Cum for me, I want you to cum,” he begs, his voice thin and oddly emotional. 
You can’t do anything but cry out and let yourself shatter, your body attempting to curl into itself before he snakes his other arm under you and pulls you back to rest against his chest. 
“Stay close, I need you close, please,” he bites out through gritted teeth, his fingers still hard at work between your thighs. You’re on the brink of another release before you can even take a breath, every buck of his hips near fatal as you shudder in his arms. 
You’re grateful they’re anchoring you like this, holding you to him, because you feel like you might float away, might fade into mist and return to the stars if he doesn’t give you his cum right this second. 
“Jihoon, cum inside me. Fill me up,” is all you can manage, the words sounding jumbled and muted through the roaring in your ears, though you do make out him swearing as he holds you tighter and lets himself go. 
His orgasm is what brings your own, the sensation of his cock jumping against your walls as it pumps white hot cum inside of you sending you into a spiral that only Jihoon can pull you out of. You try to count the seconds as they pass you by, but you keep losing track, your brain still flowing with oxytocin and your body light as air. 
You’ve almost fallen back to sleep when he starts pulling out, making you whine and reach back for his hips, wanting to keep him inside. 
“We can’t sleep like this, baby,” he murmurs to you, kissing over the marks he’d left on your neck and rubbing your stomach with a warm, large hand. 
Begrudgingly, you release him, rolling onto your back when he frees you from his arms and shifts to the edge of the bed. He stands and walks to the bathroom slowly, his boxers skewed and his cock still out, before returning with a washcloth for you. He carefully tugs your pajama shorts down and cleans you up, tossing them and the washcloth into the hamper along with his boxers. 
You’re drifting when you hear drawers opening and closing, barely conscious enough to lift your hips for him as he pulls new shorts up your legs. You wake up a bit when he snuggles in behind you, your body turning in his arms and shifting down the bed so you can bury your face in his chest. 
You feel Jihoon press a kiss to the top of your head and smooch his pec in response, promptly falling back to sleep now that you’re safe in his hold. 
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AN: inspired by the dream i had about woozi last night and how very much i wish it had been dirty for once
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