#but man...... the circumstances this time just lined the fuck up

[malk1ns]

Most definitely talking about Sid's upcoming heat and Sid's yapping that he doesn't need any help but Geno knows he will get a call the first night of a whimpering and desperate Sid

👀

"Stop scenting me," Sid snaps the second Zhenya sits down.

Zhenya rolls his eyes. He hasn't even caught his breath from his last shift. Fuck this altitude, and honestly, fuck the Avs too, Sid's cozy little friendship with MacKinnon be damned.

"I'm serious," Sid continues, scooting down the bench to make room for Rusty, who practically dives over the boards to avoid a too many men. Zhenya obediently scoots along with him, grabbing Rusty around the waist to keep him steady.

"Thanks," Rusty wheezes, and Zhenya pats his shoulder before turning back to Sid.

Sid's glaring at him. He hates being ignored under normal circumstances, and it only gets worse when he's careening towards heat—a fact that Sid is strenuously denying.

"Sorry," Zhenya says, making his eyes big and ducking his head. "Smell good, Sid, can't help it."

Sid's eyes narrow. After so many years, he's wise to Zhenya's tricks, and he's apparently not far enough into pre-heat to fall for them anyway. Zhenya adjusts his mental calculations forward a day. "I don't know what you think you're smelling, but it's not me. I'm not due for another two weeks, and we talked about this. I don't need you this time."

"Okay," Zhenya says placidly, tapping Sid's knee. Sid's cute when he gets all worked up and indignant like this.

"Hey—" Sid sputters, probably picking up Zhenya's amusement, but then coach is tapping his line in, so Sid can't do anything but glare as he swings over the boards.

Zhenya watches as he swings a big arc towards the goal, changing direction so abruptly that the d-man shadowing him loses an edge and hits the ice. Sid turns to snap at the guy, and Zhenya readjusts his math again, this time back a few hours.

Pissing Sid off always makes things move faster.

-

They drop the game in OT, but that's okay. They played well, better than they have since the trade deadline, and the shock of losing Jake is finally starting to wear off. Sid doesn't look hollowed-out whenever he looks to his left any more, and Bunting is the exact type of yappy, determined presence on Zhenya's wing that he's always played best with. The postseason is still a reach, but suddenly the games they're playing seem like they mean something again, and that's all Zhenya wants, really.

Playoffs are nice, but Zhenya's old enough now that he doesn't live and die by each individual season anymore. If he can keep his production up for a few more years, avoid major injury and quiet the people who constantly call for him to be traded, he'll be happy.

Well. That, and getting Sid to finally admit that what they've been doing for nearly two decades now isn't just friends helping each other out. But Zhenya can be patient on that front.

Seeing Jake in Carolina colors is hard, and Zhenya discreetly wipes his eyes during the tribute video. Sid doesn't bother, staring up at the enormous new jumbotron with shiny eyes. The win makes it easier to stomach, though, and Jake stops by the locker room after the game, lingering well past when the Hurricanes' bus must have left for the hotel.

He and Sid talk for a long, long time, tucked away in a hallway while Rusty and Zhenya linger, ready to head off any media that comes this direction. They're left alone, though, and when Jake finally slips past them, he's knuckling at his eyes. Zhenya politely doesn't mention it when he pulls Jake into one last hug.

Sid's marching for the parking lot, and Zhenya has to hustle to catch up with him. When he draws even, he practically trips over his feet—Sid smells ripe, fertile and alluring, like he's minutes from dropping into heat. Surely he feels it by now.

Sid slides him a sharp glare. "Don't fucking start," he mutters, angling away when Zhenya leans towards him. "You were right, okay? But it doesn't mean anything."

Zhenya takes a deep inhale and consciously steps to the side, giving Sid his space. "Call if you need," is all he says, cutting towards his car and speeding up before he can give into the impulse to manhandle Sid back to his house and his bed and keep him there.

"I won't!" Sid calls across the garage. Zhenya shakes his head.

-

It doesn't always go this way. Sometimes Sid invites him back, sends him texts like i think it's starting soon and would you mind...? as if any alpha in their right mind would turn Sidney Crosby in heat down. He gets squirrelly when it happens too many times in a row, though, acts like Zhenya's going to hold him down and bite his claim into Sid's neck without permission, and tries to put distance between them.

It never lasts, though.

Zhenya's in his pajamas and glasses, settling in with his Kindle, when his phone rings.

"G," Sid whimpers over the line, and Zhenya sits upright, the sound of a distressed omega plucking at his instincts even at a distance. "G, where are you?"

Zhenya fists his hand in his duvet. "You say you don't want," he says carefully, listening to Sid's gasps, wondering if he'd managed to get something from his toybox or if he fell into it so fast that he's using his hand. Sid doesn't take care of himself like Zhenya would if they were mated, and he's come over more than once to Sid on his belly and whimpering because his own fingers don't get him right.

That's what Zhenya's always been for.

"I didn't mean it," Sid whines, voice muffled. "G, I need you."

Zhenya pulls the phone away from his ear and looks at the screen. Not even ten, and they have an off-day tomorrow. "Sid, you say I stay home this time," he says, but he's throwing his blanket back and getting up. "You change mind?"

"I was lying," Sid moans, frustration edging into his voice. "I was...G, please, you..."

He's falling deeper into it now. Zhenya hesitates; Sid had sounded so sure, more than usual, but...

"Geno," Sid says, practically a sob, and the decision is made. There's only so much his own instincts will allow him to ignore, and Sid calls him every time—if he didn't want Zhenya coming over, he shouldn't be calling.

It takes Zhenya a few tries to remember Sid's new door code, but when he steps inside, the smell of Sid's heat practically bowls him over. Zhenya has to stop and breathe, adjust to the overpowering sugar-and-marine salt permeating the air, before he can walk without stumbling to Sid's bedroom.

"Oh, Sid," he says, pausing at the doorway.

"Please," Sid begs. He hadn't gotten to his toys after all, and he's practically twisted in a pretzel, two fingers stuffed inside himself while his other hand strips his dick. He's come once already by the mess on his stomach, but his dick is so hard it's purple, and his face is twisted in agony, not pleasure.

"Shh," Zhenya croons, voice dropping to alpha-register all on its own. He's across the room and stripping his clothes off before he's even registered it, but when he gets hands on Sid's torso Sid takes in a deep, shuddering breath and relaxes.

"G," he mumbles, looking up at Zhenya through tear-damp eyelashes. "You left me."

"I'm sorry," Zhenya murmurs, gentling Sid onto his back, pushing at his shoulder until his hand slides free. His fingers are shiny with his own slick, and Zhenya pauses to suck them clean, eyelids fluttering at the taste. Sid watches him, chest heaving, and when Zhenya lets Sid's fingers drop from his mouth, Sid trails them down Zhenya's face and chest, resting his hand over Zhenya's heart. "I'm here now," Zhenya says, leaning down to kiss Sid. "I'll take care of you."

"Yes," Sid sighs as Zhenya slides into him, letting his legs butterfly out and his head loll to one side.

Zhenya stares at Sid's neck, exposed and there, and practically bites through his lip, fucking Sid harder. He wants to bite Sid so, so badly, has for years, but Sid always pulls back just when they're on the precipice of turning this into something more, always ices Zhenya out when it starts to feel too serious, and Zhenya's not going to push—it has to be Sid's decision.

Something of what he's feeling must be leaking through, because Sid opens his eyes and looks at him. His eyes are blurry; he's deep in it now, and every exhale is a half-purr as Zhenya's knot starts to grow and catch at him with every thrust. "Mmmm," he moans, the perfect picture of an omega submitting to his alpha, but the way he tilts his head to expose his neck is all purposeful, as is the way he coyly looks at Zhenya.

"Sid," Zhenya groans, grinding his teeth. He can't stop himself from dropping to his forearms and getting his noise into the crook of Sid's neck, licking frantically over Sid's scent glands. The smell of them blooms in the room, heady and intoxicating, and Zhenya's thrusts go ragged and desperate as his knot swells. "Sid, please." He feels drunk, he doesn't even know what he's asking for, opening his mouth around the meaty muscle where Sid's neck meets his shoulder.

Sid's hand is at the back of his head, but he's pushing, not pulling Zhenya back, and Zhenya's teeth dig into Sid's skin. His "bite me" is barely audible, but it's the loudest thing Zhenya's ever heard, echoing over the roaring of blood in his ears and their breath.

He bites. The world falls away.

-

When Zhenya swims back to consciousness, his knot still hasn't gone down. Somehow, Sid had managed to get them on their sides, and he's petting over Zhenya's sweaty back, nuzzled up against Zhenya's chest and humming.

"Sid?" Zhenya croaks, eyes flying open when he remembers. "Oh, fuck, Sid, I—"

"Shh, it's okay." It's Sid's turn to soothe Zhenya, purring until Zhenya's heart slows down. Zhenya's nostrils flare as he inhales, and all he can smell is happy, contented omega.

"We..." Zhenya's floundering, head spinning as he tries to put the pieces together.

"I asked you to do it, bud," Sid says. He sounds quiet, but sure. "I wanted it. I was..." He sighs, and Zhenya can feel him shrug. "We can talk about it later, but...I was talking to Jake, and he said, you know, we're lucky—it doesn't matter what happens, because in the end we always have each other. And then I got home, and I was thinking about how he's right. You've had plenty of chances to leave, and you never did. And you always come when I need you. So...it felt stupid, to be pushing you away still."

"Sid," Zhenya groans, half infuriated and half overcome with fondness. If they weren't still knotted together he'd pin Sid down and bite at his sensitive, ticklish stomach as punishment until Sid was laughing and kicking him away. "You say to me when you think these things, like, don't make me come run over so late, scare me like I do what you don't want."

Sid shrugs again, and now he smells smug. "You always come when I call," he says, and Zhenya can't even argue that point.

He wouldn't want to, anyway.

#sidgeno #my writing #a/b/o

[bangcakes]

.

#i go about my day as normal. but then moments from this week will come into my head and im a blushing mess NFNDNDNXMXMX #if this turns into something More. oh i am going to..... lose my mind NFNFDXX #idk i just... i can picture everything but its like #i dont wanna be presumptuous JFJFJFJJFJF #but at the same time i just..... i feel like this is all heading somewhere. like slowly... but theres a Destination..... its hard to explain #JDJDJDJJDJDJ #honestly ive never got this far b4 and its not even far NDJDJDJJD #like ok yes ive been on dates or like briefly dated guys but ive never really... truly... liked any of them #like now that ive seen what i can feel.... ya every other guy just seems..... !!!!! like tiny baby crushes based on like superficial things #like this time 1. im attracted 2. we're friends 3. i wanna see him all the time #those 3 things have never been present before LMAO. #like my default is liking guys from afar so they cant hurt me #but man...... the circumstances this time just lined the fuck up #same classes... same friends.... truly it was inevitable JFJDJDDDKDDK #n e way #just me talking about this Again #im just in disbelief that it might be mutual.... #i just hope im not jinxing it by talking about it so mych NFNFNDND #i'll go crazy if i dont talk about it tho JFJFNNFNFNFNF #personal

[theostrophywife]

focus on me.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader request: I NEED MATHEO OR THEODORE X FEM READER AND SHE JUST LOVES HIS HANDS AND ARM VIENS AND SHE WALKS INTO HIS DORM AND IS GOBSMAKED TO SEE HIS ABS AND SHE WANTS TO RIDE THEM AND SHES JUST SO OBSESSED AND THINKS HES THE HOTTEST MAN IN THE PLANET- AND SHE FOLDS LIKE A PRETZEL WHEN HE GIVES HER THOSE EYES- JESUS IM A CATHOLIC BUT THEO AND MATTHEO COULD BE MY NEW RELIGION- author's note: big thanks to @writingsbychlo for listening to me rant about this man in her inbox. posting this now so she can wake up to her mans. the way that i would fold for mattheo so fast (theo look away). anyways, enjoy this purely smutty fic 😮‍💨

You were supposed to be studying. 

When you came into his dorm, you specifically told Mattheo not to interrupt you under any circumstances. Usually, you preferred the library but some prat had accidentally set off a dung bomb, which meant closure until further notice. 

You tried studying in your dorm, but your fellow housemates decided that there was no better time to throw a back to school bash in the common room than the night before your Ancient Runes exam. Harry and Ron, who shared the same class, appeared completely unbothered as they chugged firewhisky straight from the bottle. 

Your roommate Hermione was long gone. Probably holed up somewhere in the dungeons with Draco. You followed your friend’s cue and snuck into your boyfriend’s dorm, narrowly avoiding Filch. It never seemed fair that the Slytherins got individual rooms, but tonight you had never been more thankful for it. 

Mattheo had set up a whole battle station for you on his desk. There were fresh ink pots, newly sharpened quills, and blank parchment waiting for you when you arrived. After kissing your sweet and considerate boyfriend, you went straight to work. 

By the time midnight struck, the parchment was filled with glowing runes, making your ink stained hands cramp from drawing out the symbols over and over again. To Mattheo’s credit, he kept to himself and read quietly on his bed while you studied. 

You were so engrossed in the material that you barely registered him kissing you on the cheek before leaving to take a shower. That little mistake cost you because as soon as he walked back into his dorm with nothing but a towel on, you nearly spilled fresh ink all over yourself. 

Water trickled down Mattheo’s chest, the little droplets snaking through his perfectly chiseled abs only to disappear beyond his v lines, which pointed like an arrow to what you knew was hiding underneath that towel. 

The fabric hung dangerously low on his hips as he walked over to his dresser to pick out something to wear. You watched with rapt attention as he braced himself against the wood, those delicious, juicy veins protruding from his forearms and nearly making you dizzy with desire. 

Finally, Mattheo turned. The silence had caught his attention and he smirked when he saw you ogling him. 

“See something you like, pretty girl?”

You flushed. “Just got a little distracted.”

Mattheo’s grin grew. He sauntered over to you, leaning over so that he had you caged against the desk. 

“Oh?” he asked, his voice low and husky and absolutely fucking sexy. “Maybe it’s time for a break then. You’ve been such a good girl studying so hard all night. I think you deserve a reward, my love.” 

Your breath hitched as Mattheo’s lips grazed yours. He tilted your chin up, giving you a perfect view of those brown eyes. Then he gave you the look and you knew you were done for. 

It was a look that said he wanted to devour every inch of you until you couldn’t even recall your own name. You gave in. Of course you gave in. How could you not?

“Maybe for a second…”

Mattheo took the opening. One arm snaked around your waist, bringing you up with him as he pressed you against the desk. His other arm crept up your back until he reached the nape of your neck, fisting your hair through his fingers as he kissed you roughly. 

“Do you even know how fucking sexy you are, princess? My smart schoolgirl in her tiny little skirt.” 

Mattheo carefully moved your studying materials aside before picking you up and setting you down on the table. He gripped the top of your thighs and brought you to the edge while sliding his tongue against yours. You whimpered as he grinded against you, showing you exactly how hard he was underneath the towel.

“Been thinking about bending you over this table all night,” Mattheo whispered in your ear. His hand climbed higher up your thigh and you felt your body instantly respond to his touch. “Bet you’re soaking wet for me already, aren’t you angel?”

You moaned as he toyed with the waistband of your panties. “Matty, please.” 

Your boyfriend smiled at your nickname for him, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. “What is it that you want, darling?”

“Touch me. Please.” 

Mattheo smirked as he tugged your panties off. His lust filled gaze drank you in as he dragged two fingers through your slick folds. 

“Fuck. You’re so wet. Is this all for me, princess?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, nipping at his neck. “It’s not fair. You play dirty, Matty. You can’t just walk in here with nothing but a towel on.” 

“Why not, angel?”

You sighed, tracing the hard planes of his chest. His muscles flexed under your fingertips as you gently raked your nails against his six pack. “Because you’re sexy and I can’t help myself.” 

Mattheo chuckled darkly, plunging two fingers in your pussy. You bucked against his hand, watching in stunned silence as he withdrew it only to stick his middle and pointer finger into his mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted you on him. 

“This is exactly what I mean,” you whined. “For Godric’s fucking sake, how am I supposed to concentrate after that?”

“Maybe we can compromise, angel.” He shuffled through your parchments and stuck one to the wall. “I’m going to trace the runes inside of you and if you get them all right, then I’ll give you your reward.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. Mattheo grinned before giving you a quick peck. “Pay attention, sweetheart.” 

His fingers dipped through your folds once more and you gripped his arm, fighting the moan from escaping your lips. Mattheo curled his fingers inside of you, drawing a familiar shape. 

“Urus,” you said in a breathy voice. “It means strength.”

“That’s right, angel.” He shifted as you ran your hands down his arms. You could feel his veins throbbing underneath your palm as he fingered you. “Don’t get distracted now. I know how much you love my hands. I promise they’ll be wrapped around your throat by the end of the night if you get all these right. Now focus.”

You nodded, eyes fluttering close as he traced another rune. “Algiz,” you answered. “For protection.” 

“Hot and smart,” Mattheo announced proudly. “How’d I get so lucky?”

His lips grazed yours and you willingly parted for him, fluttering around his fingers as his tongue slid into your mouth. He pumped his digits inside of you, teasing and taunting. 

“Let’s try something harder, princess.” 

Mattheo’s skillful fingers prodded against your walls, sketching a complicated shape. You closed your eyes and focused. It was a tricky one, but you remembered the cris cross pattern. 

“Inguz,” you said decidedly. “Fertility.” 

“That’s right,” Mattheo said with a smile. “You're doing so well, sweetheart. One more and you can have anything you want.” 

“Anything?” you asked with a small smile.

“Whatever that devious little mind of yours desires, my love.” 

“Okay,” you replied. “I’m ready, then.”

Your boyfriend nodded, staring right into your eyes as he marked the last and final rune. It was an effort not to get lost in those warm, brown eyes. But you steeled yourself, determined to claim your prize.

“Rerth. For luck.”

“Good girl,” Mattheo said with a smirk. “Fitting since you’re getting lucky tonight, angel. Where should we start?” 

You bit your lip, cocking your head at him. It was nearly an impossible choice. You wanted to kiss him. Bite him. Lick him. All of the above and more. 

But there was one thing that stood out from all the other deliciously sinful choices. You pressed your palm against his abs and grinned. 

“I want to ride your abs.”

Mattheo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected it, but fuck he was so down. He would’ve given you anything with the way you were looking at him right now. 

“You never fail to surprise me,” he said fondly. “Well come on then, let’s make your filthy little fantasy a reality.” 

In one smooth move, he lifted you off the table and deposited you on top of his bed. Mattheo reclined against the headboard and watched with hungry eyes as you straddled his stomach. He smiled as you slipped the tie off your neck and looped it around him. 

It was a simple move, but so fucking sexy and possessive at the same time. You were claiming him. Mattheo was yours and you were his. You belonged to one another—mind, body, and soul. 

Mattheo trailed kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks on your skin as his deft fingers made quick work of the first few buttons on your blouse. He leaned back and admired his work, his hands gripping your hips while you grinded your soaking wet sex against his muscles. 

He didn’t think it would feel this good. There was something about you using his body to get yourself off that fucking turned him on like no other. Mattheo lifted your skirt up, fisting the fabric in his hands and watching as you coated him with your arousal. 

The little whimpers you were making sounded like music to his ears. “My good little slut,” he said, squeezing your tits as you rode him with reckless abandon. “You’re so fucking filthy, baby. Using me to get yourself off. I’m just your fuck toy aren’t I princess?”

“So good,” you murmured. “You feel so good, Matty.”

The desperation in your voice set him off. He gripped your hips hard enough to bruise and bucked forward, smirking in satisfaction when you moaned. The ridges of his abs rubbed against your clit, providing the perfect amount of pressure to the sensitive area. 

“Keep riding me,” he said in a low, rough voice. “Just like that, angel. Such a good girl for me.”

You closed your eyes, lost to the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Mattheo gripped your chin, his voice rough around the edges as he spoke. “Open your eyes, darling. I want to watch you cum.”

His rich brown eyes pinned you in place, drinking in every detail. That sexy smirk curved against his lips as he hooked his arms behind his head, admiring the view of his girl riding him. 

“Look at you, baby. You’re making such a fucking mess. Such an innocent face, but you turn into a filthy whore when you’re with me.” 

“Only for you, Mattheo.” 

“Damn fucking right,” he said, sliding his hands under your skirt to rub at your clit. 

You bucked against him, riding out the high. Heat exploded in your core and seeped into your veins. Mattheo kissed you roughly, staking his claim on you as he devoured your moans. 

“That’s it, princess. Cum for me, pretty girl.”

The orgasm felt like a lightning strike. It hit you all at once, making your walls spasm as you came all over Mattheo’s abs. He cursed when he felt you soaking him through, utterly turned on by the mess that you’ve made. Mattheo had never been harder in his life. 

Your boyfriend peppered kisses on your face, pulling you taut to him as you came down from the high. Mattheo brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, tilting your chin up so he could press his lips against yours. He groaned and held your hips down, grinding his boner against your ass. 

“I’m not done making you cum, princess. You’ve got one more in you, don’t you angel?” 

As sensitive as you were, your pussy throbbed at his words. When it came to Mattheo, you could never really get enough. 

“I thought I only got one reward. You’re spoiling me, Matty.” 

“There’s no question about it. You’re my spoiled rotten little princess. But this reward isn’t for you, it’s for me.” He smacked your ass, gesturing for you to get up. “Now come on, angel. I was serious about that desk.” 

He smirked as he walked you back to his desk, his hands disappearing underneath your skirt as he massaged your ass. Mattheo kissed you roughly before he flipped you over, bending you on the desk so you were face down and ass up. He flipped your skirt up, hissing when he found you soaking wet again.

“You just can’t help yourself can you, princess?” He pumped himself in his hand before sliding the tip of his cock along your folds. “Gods, you’re fucking wet. Are you ready, baby?” 

You whimpered, rocking your hips against him for more friction. Mattheo held you in place, fisting your hair in his hands. 

“Use your words, darling. I want to hear you beg like the good little slut that you are.” 

“Please, Matty,” you whined. “I need you so badly that it hurts.” 

He kissed the base of your spine, grinning as he eased his length inside of you. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, you gripped the edges of the table as Mattheo buried his cock within your walls. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but he kept you upright, cursing when he felt how wet and tight you were. 

“Fuck,” he grunted as he thrust into you slowly. Mattheo gripped you from behind, picking up the pace. Your pussy clenched around him like a vice. “Gods, pussy’s so good baby. You’re doing so well. Taking all of me like my perfect little whore.” 

Mattheo fucking adored the way you blushed at his filthy words. He leaned over, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as he fucked you into the table. He thought he was going to pass the fuck out when you grinded back into him, meeting his movements to take more and more of him. Mattheo leaned over and shielded your head from the wall, making sure you were protected as the table shook underneath you. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your breathy little moans was enough to send him over the edge, but he wanted to make good on his promise. Mattheo always put his girl first. The boys were right. He might be just a little bit pussy whipped. 

Even without the sex, you could’ve asked Mattheo to kill for you and he would’ve done so without question. 

“I fucking love you, darling. I’d kill for you. I’d die for you,” he said, every word laced with conviction. “Forever and always.” 

“I love you too, Matty. Forever and always.” 

He kissed your cheek, the action surprisingly soft compared to how rough the sex was. You felt like you could’ve melted onto the floor. 

“Cum with me, my love.” 

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you as that familiar heat spread burned in your core. He held you as the orgasm rocked through your body, sharing in the euphoric high while the two of you finished together. His grip around you only tightened, hugging you from behind while he slowly pulled out. You were barely keeping upright as it was, your legs threatening to give out under you. 

Without a word, your boyfriend scooped you into his arms and brought you back to bed. He cradled you against him, whispering praises and encouragement while stroking your hair. 

“You did so well, baby. I’m so proud of you for remembering all those runes. You’re gonna ace your exam tomorrow.” 

“You really think so, Matty?” You snuggled against him, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Mattheo stroked your back and placed a kiss on your temple. 

“I know so, darling. You have no idea how proud I am for having such a smart girlfriend. I love bragging about you to our friends.” 

You flushed. “Well, I couldn’t have done it all on my own. I had some help from my smart, sweet, and sexy study partner.

Mattheo grinned and kissed you gently. “Glad to be of service, my love.” 

taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468

please let me know if you'd like to be added.

#FERAL FOR THIS MAN #THE DELULU IS THE SOLULU #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo x you #benjamin wadsworth

[freedomfireflies]

Our Place*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where Harry invites you back to his apartment for the first time and it doesn't go as planned.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, angst (happy ending), use of a safe word

Harry’s apartment is nicer than you expected. 

The furniture is cozy, the décor is unique, and his bedroom is well kept. He even has fresh flowers on his kitchen table. 

It surprised you, even though it shouldn’t. Harry doesn’t seem like a dirty guy, but truthfully, you were still shocked to find he had both sheets on his bed and no clothes on the ground.

You take in the tiny details of his life as he kisses down your neck and slips his fingers into your jeans. He’d wrangled you onto the bed only seconds after you walked through the door. He didn’t want to give you a tour of the whole apartment. Just the bedroom. Which you were more than all right with. 

He’s oddly desperate, given the circumstances. Maybe he always is, but tonight feels different. Tonight feels…hopeful.

“Shit, Tink,” he groans into your ear when he feels how wet you’ve become. “S’this just because you rode my bike?”

You gently swat the back of his head. “Stop it.”

“What?” He noses under your jaw. “Felt you squirming back there, Princess. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you were trying to get yourself off to the vibrations?”

You wince. You didn’t even realize you’d been doing it. “I was not, I was just…the adrenaline was a lot—”

“Uh-huh.” He laughs and something about it sounds like honey. “S’fine, baby. You know I don’t mind.”

“Well…I wasn’t—”

“Sure. Can I fuck you now?”

You huff. “That’s why I’m here.”

He rips your jeans down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder and somewhere onto the floor. The warm air feels good and it’s then that you realize he’s right. You’re soaked, all the way through your panties.

But instead of taunting you further, he only tugs them aside and pulls his cock out. 

“I think…” he murmurs as he lines himself up, “…it’s high time I got you pregnant.”

Your mouth falls open in a moan as he drops a glob of spit onto your clit and pushes in.  

You’ve noticed that his breeding kink makes an appearance more often than not these days. Which you aren’t exactly complaining about. After all, you have one, too. Mostly thanks to him.

But it surprises you all the same as he starts to work himself in and out of your tight cunt, whispering the filthiest promises. 

“Think I won’t do it, hm? I will. Swell this pretty belly with my cum. S’what it was made for, wasn’t it? To take me. Have my babies. Gonna stretch you so pretty…get your tits leaking. You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you, Princess?”

You try to respond but how can you? You feel as though you’ve been fucked dumb. Unable to hear anything past the pounding of blood in your ears.

His glasses start to slip down his nose. He almost always takes them off—they’re mostly for reading anyway. But you like the look of them. Like how studious it makes him seem...how scandalous.

So, you nudge them back up. Desperate to see him exactly the way he always is.

He smirks. “You all right there, Tink?”

You nod weakly. “Yes…yeah. M’fine.”

“Thinking about what I said?” He kisses down your chest. “Thinking about calling me Daddy for real? Having our babies?"

Our. A word you didn’t think belonged to you. Because Harry doesn’t belong to you. And you don’t belong to him. You’re two separate people. Even when you fuck, he’s in his world and you’re in yours. You weren’t meant to be an “our.”

You chalk this up to a slip of the tongue. Something you say when you're threatening to breed someone. And you choose not to give it any power. Because you know what happens if you do.

The fucking gets harder. Faster. He’s chasing a high. In fact, he's been chasing it since earlier in the bar when he saw you with another man. And you know he’s trying to hold off for you, but he wants to cum. He wants to paint your belly with his seed and fuck it back in. Wants to make good on his word even if he shouldn’t.

Your nails scratch down his back, damp and covered in sweat. But his muscles feel good in your hands and you whimper as you hike a leg over his hip and bury him in your pussy.

In your lust-filled haze, your attention drifts. Head rolling to the side as you focus on the soft grunts in your ear. 

But then, your eyes find something on his dresser.

Your heart stops.

In fact, everything stops. Your breathing, your noises, your gentle rolls to meet his thrusts.

It all stops. And you whisper, “Red.”

He quickly falls still. A rather impressive feat given how anxious he is to find release. From 100 to 0 in only seconds, and you almost feel guilty as you sense him glance at you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks through labored inhales. “What…what happened, what do you want me to do?”

But you don’t look back. You keep your focus on the piece of furniture in the corner of his room and you will yourself not to cry.

Eventually, he looks, too. And when he realizes, the air in the room shifts.

He lets out a soft sigh and drops his hand to your hip. Squeezing it once. “Tink…”

You say nothing. Tears are pooling behind your lashes and your chest feels tight. 

“Tink,” he tries again, firm. His grip tightens on your waist. “Tinkerbell—"

“She’s beautiful,” you breathe. You take in a soft gasp. “Oh, my god, Harry, she’s…she’s so beautiful.”

He’s quiet for only a moment. “Yeah. She was,” he agrees gently.

You can’t take your eyes away from the picture frame. The guilt is so much worse now than it was before. Your heart is in your throat, in your ears, lying on the floor next to your jeans. 

You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. In his bed—their bed—fucking the man she died loving. While he promises to get you pregnant and give you his babies.

And how is he so calm? How the fuck is he looking at her picture while still inside of you instead of screaming at you to leave his apartment? How can he be okay with cheating on her with you?

“Princess,” he says again, and grabs onto your jaw to force your focus back to him. “Talk to me, what do you want me to do?”

Your lashes flutter. “What?”

“You said red,” he reminds you. “Which means we stop. But I need to know if you’re in pain or if I can pull out?”

It takes a moment for you to blink the fog from your mind and understand. But when you do, your stomach wrenches. “I…wait, shit, I…I want you to finish, I just…I saw her photo, and—”

“I know,” he interrupts softly. He gives you a gentle smile. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been there. But red means stop. And we’re gonna honor that. No matter why you said it.”

You whimper. “Harry, wait—”

“I’m gonna pull out,” he says, ignoring your plea. “And then we’re gonna talk—”

“Harry…Harry come on, you can’t—”

But he does. Even though he winces as slips himself out, teeth gritting together to keep from coming. 

But once he’s out, he delicately closes your legs, and sits beside you. “Okay,” he begins. He keeps your eyes on him. “What’s going on up there?” 

He nods at your forehead and you want to cry. “Nothing, I just…I…”

“You’ve never seen her before.”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”

“And you weren’t expecting to see her now,” he says for you. “Especially when we were fucking.”

You sniffle. “It felt like we were cheating. Like I was helping you hurt her. And then…and then I got worried that maybe you only brought me back here so you could pretend I was her. You know? With all the stuff about…about babies…and us, and…and—”

“Okay, breathe,” he instructs. He cups your cheek and presses his thumb to your trembling lips. “Breathe, Tink. Slow.”

Forced to obey, you suck in shallow gasps for air until your heart rate slows and your head doesn’t feel so dizzy.

Pleased, he says, “I know you’re not her, Tink. I don’t want you to be.”

Your expression softens.

“I brought you here because you’re the only person I want to see in the place she once lived,” he continues. His voice is strong. Steady. Like he’s given this far more thought than you anticipated. “After she died, I left it the same. I didn’t touch anything. Not the furniture she picked out. Not the dumb, cute little bowls she insisted we buy. Not the coffee pot that doesn’t work but she loved because she swore it made her coffee taste better. None of it.”

The tears fall down your cheeks, fast and without mercy. 

“I didn’t invite people over because I wanted to pretend she still lived here,” he tells you. “I wanted it to still be our place. Not just mine. And the thought of bringing someone else back here felt…wrong.”

You grab onto his wrist to keep his hand close and he smiles. 

“And then you,” he murmurs, dipping down to nuzzle his nose against yours. A display of affection you’d never expect from him. “And yeah, you’re annoying, and I hate you. But she would have fucking loved you.”

You nearly sob. 

“I want you here,” he says. “I want to talk about getting you pregnant and having our babies. I want to fuck you on this bed and I want to make you cry for a very different reason.”

You laugh through the tears.

“Look, I don’t believe in guardian angels and an afterlife and all that shit,” he admits. “But sometimes, I swear she sent you to me. And yeah, I probably should have moved the picture first. That was my fault, I haven’t had anyone in here in a while. But…you’re not her, Tink. You’re you. And that’s exactly who I want you to be.”

You can’t stop the next wave of emotion as you sling your arms around his neck and pull him close. He chuckles in your embrace but doesn’t fight you. He holds you, too. For as long as you both need.

“I hate you, too,” you finally whisper.

He smiles.

“Harry?”

“Mm?”

“…can we please finish now?”

He leans back to see you. “Are you sure?”

“Very.” You kiss him. “After all, you promised to get me pregnant. And I can’t leave until you do, Daddy."

The groan against your lips is delicious and devious.

And it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

“As you wish.”

WHY DID THIS MAKE ME WANT TO CRY!!! ALSO HI I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!

Previous Part:

~ The one where Harry gets jealous (again)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin

@justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda

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#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles concept #harry styles one shot #nerd!harry #smut #imagine #concept #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #harry and tink #engineer!harry #dom!harry #softdom!harry #enemies to lovers #angst

[bitchlessdino]

Reckless (m)

Pairing: adult actor!mingyu x pervert afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 4.8k tags: camboy!mingyu, established friendship, banter, brat!reader, glass toys, invasion of privacy, rough play, anal, double penetration, degradation (pervert, slut), choking, spanking, spitting, oral (giving and receiving), swallowing, hair pulling, deep throating Summary: Mingyu is a camboy and proud of it, as he should. Finally, he's getting the applause he deserves for his work and will be attending one of the biggest adult industry events to date. He just needs you to watch over while his house while he's gone. Easy enough, right? Unbeknownst to him, you happened to be a fan. A big one. One so big that you cant help but take advantage what Mingyu fans have only ever dreamed of. author note: finally the awaited winner, camboy!mingyu! still so crazy he won over multiple reverse harems on the poll. tagging my wife @wongyuseokie because it's her birthday and deserves to wake up with some NASTY mingyu smut. thank you @highvern for beta-reading to better this fic and like both of us are saying, mingyu is a fucking freakkk in this so enjoy my babies.

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic @onlymingyus

You have only seen the room in passing personally, but countless times over video. You’re not even shocked by the dozens of expensive toys he’s put in those glass displays, so used to seeing them enter a human orifice one way or the other. The burly man bashfully guides you away from the scandalous room, skillfully diverting your attention to the lush foliage he's entrusted you to tend to, a gentle blush adorning his warm-toned cheeks.

How you keep the fact that you have been secretly watching your friend’s cam shows–including the charity stream of him doing push ups in a singular pair of skintight briefs–was a mystery, even to you. 

It’s not like you meant to get addicted to porn. But Mingyu, unapologetic about his line of work, practically served it up on a silver platter for you. He says he could use all the help he could get, but frankly, he couldn’t have it more easy. 

With that body, that hair, that face, that smile, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d be a fan favorite and you were right. He’s now one of the rising adult content creators in his line of work, heavily acclaimed in the cam category and recently in independent film. That’s what his trip is about, awarding him for his hard work that he never thought he’d accomplish.

It fills you with pride, yet piques your curiosity; fusing platonic and sensual feelings that blur the lines between friendship and desire for Mingyu, actualizing this full fledged crush. But you’d never let him find that out. Not unless it was against your will.

“And that’s pretty much it. Everything else is pretty self-explanatory. I’ll be back on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday, hmm?” Your eyebrows bounce in place suggestively. “Thinking of pursuing personal projects while working?”

He shrugs like a timid schoolboy, cheekbones pigmented and perky like bright ripe cherries. “No promises—Now, repeat back to me everything I’ve told you to do.”

You playfully roll your eyes, offended he had the gall to doubt you. “Water each green buddy once a day; keep crumbs off tables, counters, furniture, etc; put everything back where it should be; and,” you start to grin, “no sex parties, even though this is the perfect place for it.”

“Okay, that last one was obviously a joke but very much serious. Although tempting, under any circumstances, do not fuck anyone in this house while I’m gone.”

“So circumstances would be different if you were home?”

Getting a shade brighter in red, he points a demanding finger at you like a stern mother, “I mean it.”

“Yes, mom,” sarcasm coating your tongue.

“Good.”

Mingyu, armed with a suitcase containing all his essentials, casually waves you off. There's a playful authority in the final point of his finger, a silent reminder to behave before he disappears behind the imposing door.

You promise him you’ll do your due diligence in taking care of his home, and that would be an easy enough task, the real problem stems from the temptation of one specific room. Mingyu’s cam room.

Distinct from the usual rooms such as the bathroom, Mingyu's kitchen, and his primary bedroom, this space stands alone, akin to an office. Mingyu himself has shared its origin story: starting from the sweetest of riddances of a god-awful roommate, followed by many desperate nights to cover the remaining monthly rent, ultimately giving birth to this room that many of his fans like to call ‘Sinner’s Safehaven.’ So rightfully acclaimed.

You’re a fan of yourself, able to outline the bedroom from memory and recollect every toy from every live stream he’s ever posted. Unable to resist the temptation, your feet instinctively embark on a self-guided tour. Your eyes are bewitched by the intricacies of every weapon of pleasure, every scent of his array of miscellaneous liquids, every phallic-shaped object that stands tall and mighty like a national monument.

It’d be a lie to say you weren’t tempted to take advantage of the opportunity, maybe just to get the sick idea out of the way. Your hands manage to find a mind of their own, reaching over to unlock one of the glass displays, wrapping your hand around the object’s girth, and taking it out from its confinement for a closer view.

A stunning crystal toy that reflects off the lights of the room, looking in pristine condition as if fresh from packaging. If Mingyu is good at one thing it’s maintaining his tools, and he does not let anyone forget.

Ever since he showcased it on screen, you've desired to covet one just like it, inducing a late-night web surf to discover the outrageous out-of-reach prices for a product of such exceptional quality and aesthetic appeal. It does not look to be in the cards for you to own one, but borrowing wouldn’t be a problem. He did say everything only needed to be put back in place and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Following the devilish voice whispering in your ear, you slip into something more comfortable, letting the well-conditioned air blow a draft against your bare legs. You hold the toy excitedly before dipping your weight in the bed, the silk sheets and pillowy cushion embracing you at all sides.

The knowledge that the infamous crystal dildo is in your hand makes your heart pound and pussy throb. You can count all the videos of it being featured with one hand, and despite it all, you know it had to be Mingyu's favorite. 

One particular video comes to mind as you hold the tip against your inner thigh, moving it identical to the way Mingyu held it against him, realizing they are coincidentally the same length, same girth, and same tantalizing presence. You practically dreamed of having him and this toy inside of you for months after that show and now half of that dream would be possible.

Your fingers didn’t have to be inside you to know you’re wet, practically soaked through your panties the moment you laid eyes of Mingyu and his sex room. Fuck, if you aren’t so damn ashamed of the truth of your feelings, you’d never let him out of your sight. 

A long note of your moan exhales as you insert the tip between your wet folds, introducing the strangest yet arousing thing to be done to you. It’s certainly big as you expect it to be, maybe even more as you plunge it in deeper. Affirmations exit your lips in short bursts, your other hand up your shirt as they tease your nipples through your bra.

Your legs crutch in reaction to its ridged shape massaging your walls, then the cool hard surface finds that familiar hotspot, unfortunately only halfway down its length. Your cheeks flush imagining Mingyu’s face, imagining the words to come out of those lips if it were his cock.

‘Already? I haven’t even put it all in yet.’

It fuels your determination, deadset in taking all of it—all of him.

‘You can do it, can't you? You can take my cock for me?’

Somewhere, lost in the contagious air of sex and starvation, your mind runs rampant. Your hips buck into the crystal, letting it settle inside you all the way before you thrust it harder. You hiss at its size, expelling a moan once you no longer feel its shaft around your fingers and just take it, take it as if it a canine smile were on the other end.

‘So good…so good at taking all of my cock.’

“I am being good,” you mumble under your breath. “So good...”

Your whimpers go unnoticed by you, only worried of the dildo carrying on its mission. Sensation running down your legs and arms, and your hips hover over the mattress. Your back arches and you spell his name out in the only way the body fully intends you to: in longing breaths, “Mingyu…please…”

‘What? What is it?’

You groan at the image of his smile. “Let me cum please…”

‘Do you deserve it?’

“Yes, Gyu, please…” You thrust faster. “Oh my god—“

‘Yes, that’s it. That pretty pussy should cum all over my hard fucking cock.’

“Yes, yes!” Your arousal seeps all around you, a visible stain beneath your thighs and you don’t care. “God, right there! Right there—“

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Then it becomes no longer your imagination. The voice you’ve created in your mind had an echo, lingering in the depths of your filth rotted head, but the one you just heard had to be the original.

You scramble to hide under the sheets, eyes as big as saucers as the man of your fantasy stands clear in your reality at the foot of his bedroom. “M-Mingyu. The train.”

“I forgot some things. Couldn’t leave without them, so I told the driver to turn back.” He peers over your situation, intrigued by your legs folded on top of one another beneath the covers, the proof trepidation of your forehead, and your lips swollen from instinctive biting. “What do we have here?”

You laugh nervously, unprepared for the shitshow soon to arise. “I see how this looks—“

“Looks like you’ve had a bit of fun.” He huffs with his arms crossed as he approaches, the human made stain plain in sight on his bed sheets which you’ve fail to cover up. “Too much maybe. And all by yourself.”

“Well, you see—“

“And the mess you made.” His hand pushes against the mattress, leaning over to your side and drinking in your view. “All over my bed. All over my Crystal dildo.”

You avoid his gaze, wishing to disappear in a cloud of smoke right about now. “Okay. You can understand how this would bother you.”

“Oh I’m not bothered by it—not in the slightest—but…you could’ve at least waited until I came back.”

Mingyu pulls the sheets off of you and he exposes your guilt, seeing it in its raw, glistening glory. His eyes scan over you, swallowing at that scent revealed, and a fire lights up in his stomach. “Dirty little pervert can’t stop saying my name while using my toy, hmm? Don’t you know better to touch things that don’t belong to you?”

“I…I…I’m sorry,” You squeak.

“Well, I can’t just let this go now, can I?”

You shake your head, breathing through your nose. You’re scared of him hearing how fast your heart has decided to pound, how wet you’ve become well after your orgasm, and how dry your throat is after you heard him call you a pervert. 

Wordlessly, he takes the glass dildo from your fingertips, claiming what’s rightfully his, and plunging between his lips halfway down its shaft. Your eyes capture it in full color, reveling in the moan that slips past his lips. Your chest rises and falls watching him take it deeper almost effortlessly as his slack cladded knees dip into the mattress. 

“Mmh…who knew a pervert’s pussy could taste so sweet,” he mumbles, smiling into the toy. It leaves his mouth with a pop before it aims back at you. “Taste it. Taste how sweet your dirty pussy is all over my cock.”

Your stomach coils, reluctantly obliging to crack open your mouth. Mingyu hums, content with what he sees as he eases the toy towards your mouth. “Don’t be shy. Take my crystal cock, perv.”

Your lips wrap around the head, tasting the salty, faintly sweet, flavor lingering on the glass before it travels past your lips.You look back at him, almost as if waiting for his instruction, and receive a stroke on the back of your head as a response. 

“That’s it. Let it go deep down your throat. Have to make up for ruining my bed, right?”

You nod, unable to speak as you bob down, licking up what you can and collecting every inch of the toy. His eyes become a dark pit that stares back at you, dominance taking over his entire presence. He doesn’t speak, only watches and for what feels like forever, pushing the toy in and out of your mouth.

Your muffle around its girth, tears starting to brim your eyes as it hits the back of your throat, but it doesn’t falter Mingyu in the slightest.

"You're crying. Does it hurt?" Mingyu asks in a domineering tone, to which you nod. "Do you want me to stop?" he inquires, to which you shake your head.

His lips graze your ear, and you sense his charming smile whispering against your skin as he replaces the imaginary devilish voice with his very real and alluring one. “Then deep throat it like you mean it, you fucking slut.”

Your lips parted wider, a shattered moan aches out, only to have the toy stuck down your throat long enough for your tears to sting. Gasping for air, Mingyu finally shows mercy and unplug your airways. Coughing uncontrollably, salvia dribbles down your chin as you retrieve your stolen oxygen. His hand tenderly caresses at the back of your head, threading through the tangles of your hair.

“Good job,” he says in a hushed voice, picking your face up by your chin. “Now. Do you think that was an appropriate punishment?”

He tucks your hair behind your ear, lethally silent as he anticipates your response.

It takes you a moment to realize where you are, who you're with, and what this all meant for you. Mingyu’s cam persona has haunted your inner thoughts, degrading you as if you were scum, tossing your body like a rag doll, marking and bruising your skin only he would find, and you relished in every earth-shattering, mind-blowing orgasm it’s caused. You’d be a fool to say otherwise.

“N-no. It’s not enough.”

“Is that so,” He questions amused. Slowly, his hand travels from your hair to your face, tracing your jaw in a languid movement and coming across your neck to size it in his large hand. “What will be enough for you exactly?”

The pad of his fingers presses the slightest amount of pressure on the column of your neck, emerging a gasp so soft Mingyu almost doesn't register it. He grins, hot breath fanning your face as he watches your legs squirm. It comes as a surprise to you when he single-handedly pins your body against the bed frame, leveraging you against it before he comes down and faces your pussy drowning its own cum. 

“I should at least have compensation done for the damage you’ve made, don’t you think?”

He grips your neck a fraction tighter before you feel his mouth make contact with your core. Physically vibrating, you feel the sensation of his tongue flicking at your clit, and visibly melt before he explores down. “You’re so fucking wet,” he chuckles condescendingly through your arousal. “If I knew any better I’d think you’re wet because of me, as if the screaming of my name wasn’t proof enough.”

“Mingyu...” you whine through your ceased breath.

“And you sound so pretty when you say my name too,” He groans as inhales your scent that blurs his surroundings, devouring you inside and out. “Fucking tease…taste so damn good.”

Mingyu’s chokehold loosens to cascade down your body, fingers moving like ribbons tracing your shape and memorizing every bump and curve through the thin layer of your shirt. Your voice gives out, clenching your fists as he explores you in swirls, moisture seeping out of your cunt but never ending and leaving you in an endless loop of pleasure.

He holds you up by your legs, your thighs crushing either side of his face as he buries himself in your insatiable pussy while its dripping down his chin and neck. He groans inside you, mustering every impish sound possible as he eats you clean, not minding how you’re at the end of your wits locking his head in place.

“G-gyu, shit,” you sputter. “I’m c-close.”

He simply scoffs, “Good,” plunging his tongue deeper, nose pushing against your swollen clit. Words stay lodged down your throat, trapped from escaping as you writhe in his grip and he swallows the taste of you succumbing to his control. You aren’t aware of the eyes watching every second of you give in, how they beam with pride and greed as he goes for more. The notes of fruit and musk only makes Mingyu’s craving intensify, unwilling to surrender the sweet nectar once he’s gotten his taste. 

With a yelp, he drops your legs and tugs you toward him, rendering you defenseless as he's clamped either of your side. You drink in his body towering over you as he swiftly pulls his shirt over his head and off his body, bestowing you a deific image that you never grow tired of.

“Shall I help you undress?” He offers, kindly for once.

You drop your head in a reluctant nod and your heart swells at the sight of his smile before they capture your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Mingyu’s movement isn’t needy, it’s efficient and effective. Salty peppermint kisses and hands that move gingerly with ease culminate proof of a man that has countless amounts of partners and endless experience. Almost as if he’s ready for any and every given opportunity and you more than believe it.

Seeing as he knows how to handle himself, undoubtedly that meant he’d know how to handle you. That rouses you, anticipation resonating in the pit of your stomach, and like that, you’ve embraced your nudity just as Mingyu has in the safety of his firm arms.

He manages to kick off his pants, freeing him of the restraint of fabric and his hips dip into yours. And again and again. And again and again. Just to show you what you’ve created in your messy experiment. 

If you weren’t already hot under his touch, you swear the room was hotter than any vast desert. Perspiration sprayed against your back, your forehead, your chest, but strangely you’re obsessed with his and the incidentally salty taste of his skin as you kiss. “You feel huge,” you mutter in a flustered breath. 

His cock pulsates through his briefs against your thigh, screaming to join the party and make himself known in ways he hasn’t shown yet. Not yet with you. He smiles against your lips, grasping your hips more firmly. More definitely. “It’s too soon to be saying that.”

“Then…” Your fingers, tantalized by the appearance of his styled hair, didn’t resist the urge to comb through it, pleasantly surprised with the silky, pliable sensation. “I hope I get to soon.”

“Pervert,” he repeats with a grin. His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it away from his head and landing on the hem of his underwear. Mingyu is good at getting back on track as he immediately pulls his waistband away from torso, springing his cock that stands in your direction in determination. A familiar yet foreign sight that you never expected to be on the other end of. “By the way, don’t forget. You’re making it up to me. Not the other way around.”

Naturally, your hand finds the ridged texture of his shaft. “Yes, of course.” You feel it twitch under his touch, growing as a nail trails up a singular vein. “But I never said I’d make that easy.”

“Really? A sentence where ‘you’ and ‘easy’ just seems to fit.”

You sneer at him, calming down after seeing an amicable jab you’re used to. “You’re one to talk.”

“And I won’t be done talking. On your knees,” He demands.

“Or what?”

Mingyu isn’t new to your taunting but he can't help the steam coming out of his ears this time around. Gathering your weight, he swiftly turns you on your stomach and props you up as his cock settles between the cheeks of your ass. “I’ll do things like that. I’m patient until I’m not. Not when it comes to perverted brats like you.”

You voluntarily moan as you back into him, allowing the cock to slide up and down. “I’d like to see it. Unless you’re all talk.”

A familiar coolness of glass finds itself home in your sopping cunt. You mewl at the sensation, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. The side of your head braces for the bed and letting the toy suction your pussy, buzzing . “Fuck…”

“Spoke to soon, didn’t you?”

“Have—fuck—mercy…” Your words speak like pleads but your body could not be more delightful in taking every inch, adjusting from the backside in record time.

“See? Look at you take all that cock,” he spits in the smack center, rubbing around your rim and pussy thoroughly. “And knowing you and our conversations, I know you can take it well somewhere else. Isn’t that right?”

“Y-you wouldn’t…”

“I can. Unless…that’s not what you want. Unless you want me to leave this room without putting my cock and you into let them fuck you like the dirty fucking slut you are.”

“Fuck…you…” The glass vanished through you, reappearing at Mingyu's will, muffling your protests, and swallowing the glass dildo satisfyingly from your cunt. The bedsheets become balls in your hand, wrinkled and worn, just as you planned to be after Mingyu is through with you.

“That’s not an answer.” He teases, thrusting faster.

“Shit…fuck…Yes please fuck, I want it. I want more. Please…”

“Excited are you, pervert?” He inquires, managing to grab the lube from a nearby drawer and squirt it on the ring of your hole. The bite of the cool gel stings in a way that’s familiar, but does not grow any easier as it physically and mentally preparing you.

“You…suck…Kim Mingyu…”

“I’ve already done that already, perv.”

Taking the crystal dildo out of your pussy, he carefully sets it aside, prepping your untouched hole for entry and feeling you clenched around his fingers. “So tight. What? Did you lie and you’re actually an anal virgin.”

“I’m not,” you moan in defense, hearing the erotic squelching burns your ears and makes your already hot skin scorching to the touch. His fingers are tolerable, but still bigger you’re used to and it’s more apparent as he inserts another finger. “I just never had anything that big. Nothing your size.”

“I’m honored.”

You hope that his cock could fuck you the way his fingers does, if not then better, already buzzing at the pace they move inside you, stretching you wider and wider.

“F-fuck off.”

“Not yet. It’s coming.” You feel the head of the dildo perk up your rim as it eases in you, the drip of lube between your cheeks drowning your hole and all the moisture it could ask for. Still, Mingyu is careful to adjust to your preference, opening you up and seeing how the toy slowly destroys you inside and out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your hands slam against the bed, allowing the gradual introduction to take over all your senses. 

“You’re taking the cock so well up your ass, fuck. I haven’t seen anyone do that yet. Remember you talking about it, made curious if you actually could.”

“I don’t lie…about stuff…like that…” you spread your ass, offering the perfectly lewd view for Mingyu, practically dripping all for him.

“Shit, I need to be inside you.”

He rolls a condom on his length, tossing the wrapper where he doesn’t see it and teases your slit moist in your cum. In the midst of it, you feel the tip of his cock rubbing your clit, and your whine ensue as you wait for more, not properly being used to the full advantage. Mingyu laughs to himself, seeing how desperate you look, reveling in the sounds that leave your body as it fuels his cock before he plunges inside you.It's an indescribable sensation, almost sacrilegious in its intensity, yet it leaves you convinced that Heaven must reside wherever Mingyu is.

You thought you knew the meaning of being spit open until it’s Mingyu reintroducing the idea. His cock and toy planted  so deep inside you, fucking both of your holes until you’re rendered into like what he calls you, a perverted little slut. You don't mind in the slightest; in fact, when the thoughts swirling through your mind are nothing but incoherent, you're utterly indifferent to anything else. Your state of matter was to be fucked, double fucked, and fucked to ruin until you’ve come over and over again.

“Stupid slut…stupid…perverted…fucking slut…Look at you…you like getting fucked in the pussy and ass, hmm?”

“Yes god yes,” you confirm, devoid of words otherwise.

He smacks you full against the cheek, groaning into the sex thicken air as he melts into your body like butter. “Yeah? How does it make you feel?”

“Full…”

“You like that?” Another smack to your ass. “Fucking pervert likes being fucked full. Big fucking surprise.”

His thrusts grow rough, already annoyed by the toy in his hands when he’s eager to plant both on your body and fill the full extent of your body. “God you’re hot,” he mumbles, “Why does a pervert like you get to be so hot, hmm?” He rams into you, feeling you jump back against him.

“Makes me want to fucking drain my cock in you, but no, I have—“ he slams again, a burst of ache living your lips, “—Work! God, I fucking needed this. I needed you and every inch before I needed to leave.”

You’d respond if you weren’t so occupied. He drowns your thoughts out every second he’s inside you, to the point nothing else exists.

“Shit, I have work,” Mingyu repeats as if dawning the thought for the first time. He lets go of the toy and manages to direct it with his thrusts, moving him and the toy into you at the same pace. You scream at him, shattered breaths taking over you, and his name is the only consistent, as you spread yourself wider to take it, left with only the base of the toy and the end of Mingyu’s shaft.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you whine incessantly, shaking and bucking into him until you cum all over his cock, undoubtedly flooding and dripping down the side of your legs.

But Mingyu takes his time and it tastes sweet than any candy, fucking your pussy and ass deeper, harder until his mind as gone as yours is. “Shit, shit, shit. Turn around and look at me.”

You do as told, dildo still in the pocket of your ass, as his cock is aimed at your lips, the condom abandoned just like its wrapper. His hands run in your hair, gripping from the root and he pushes you over the head of his cock, groaning as more pretty souvenir images for him to look back on. “Look at you. Good at taking cock there too?”

You nod, mumbling a confirmation before Mingyu penetrates deeper, noticing him lodged in you throat before bucking his hips in your mouth. “Then take it. Take all of my cum. Can’t leave another mess behind.”

Wide eyes of mischief look back at him, holding him by the back of his cock as you bob against him. He grips tighter to the back of his head, pulling and tugging as your hair become the size of his fists and you feel him hit the back of your throat. He now sees the white of your eyes, the flare of your nostrils, the quiver of jaw before it overwhelms him.

“Fuck, take it.” The load builds up to its full intensity, intoxicating him until theirs tears even in his eyes, the kind that supersedes one of joy. 

You hold his hips with both spreadhands, welcoming his release with closed eyes. You mouth gets flooded, blown up so full you’re close to choking, gagging from the contents dispersed in you.

“Take it,” Mingyu says fatigued. “You don’t have to swallow it, but take it.”

But you do swallow it, what you could anyway, and it’s inevitable that you’re a coughing mess when you unlatch from him, dribbling in a concoction of your bodily fluids and cum running along your torso, cunt, and legs.

“Okay,” Mingyu pants, “Now I really need to get to that train.”

You’re catching your breath as he cleans himself off with wet paper towels he had on hands, cleaning off the work of his cock but leaving the rest of him untouched. It’s fine, however, seeing as he glows with an air of lust, making him more charismatic than he normally did, and you’re brimming with pride knowing you’ve caused it. “I’m surprised you have that much energy off camera.”

“It helps, that it’s you.” He timidly admits, raising the temperature in your body. “And who said we’re off camera.” He points to the security camera at the corner of his room, reminding you too late that he’s used to using more than one camera to capture any and all angles. “I even forgot about it for a second.”

“Oh.”

“I can delete it if you want.”

“No it’s okay, but um….Send me a copy.”

#svthub #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #seventeen mingyu #seventeen kim mingyu #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x you #kim mingyu x y/n

[scientia-rex]

I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.

I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.

You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)

I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)

Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.

The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.

[1800titz]

HI. This is the pornstar!AU (Tiger Harry). Enjoy :D

CONTENT/WARNINGS: face-fucking, anal play-ish, Sir kink, general manhandling, light dom-sub dynamics

WC: 8.6K

“Are you open to raw anal?” is probably not a statement Y/N had …entirely expected to hear when she’d agreed to discourse over pastries and dirty chai lattes. 

It’s a pretty good one, all things considered, and asked with complete professionalism, according to their careers and the open, apathetically businesslike expression shaping the features of her counterpart. Y/N takes a sip of her latte. It is quite a good latte. He wasn’t wrong there. 

Harry blinks. 

It’s very on brand, despite the way she’s sure one of the baristas has definitely twisted around from the dishpit, side eye discreet …but there. And in the barista’s defense, she couldn’t even blame her for eavesdropping on the sordid contents of their public discourse. Y/N isn’t going to turn around and look. 

In Harry’s, he didn’t exactly shout. 

The man across from her takes a slow sip from his latte. Good latte, very good latte. 

She can’t help but admire his varying assortment of rings as he cradles the cup, irises winding from the blocky, golden S to its chunky counterpart, the H. So many times she’d admired those hands, those ring-clad fingers traipsing over bare skin, just the tips meddling over abdomens and winding circles around navels. Those digits sunk into the hair of his partner, tangled into the roots as he manually bobs her head over his cock. Those fingers twisting over the pink tip of his shaft, lining it up before his hips pump. Those long fingers splaying over cunts, swiping a thumb to ogle in front of the camera. 

There've been so many instances where Y/N had wondered the significance of that H and that S. And it’s been really quite simple all along.

Should I call you Tiger in person, then? she’d tapped out over the LED keyboard, days prior when they’d only been discussing the prospect of a meet up. Days prior, before she’d flown out for an on-camera collaboration, to bask in the sunlight of California, to enjoy overpriced dirty chai lattes and oddly promiscuous dialogue in the corner of a cafe. 

I think I’ll just take Harry when the cameras aren’t rolling x, RideTheTiger had messaged back. 

Anyways, it’d probably be a sleazy, poorly-executed one liner (and consequently, a horrifically red flag) in possibly every other circumstance, but this isn’t a first date and RideTheTiger has, thus far, been the furthest thing from sleazy. Even paid for her dirty chai latte, practically shouldering her out of the slot at the register. Pulled her chair out for her, asked about her traveling fares prior to delving into said anal topic. It’s all been fairly gentlemanly. Very business-partner-coffee-meeting. 

“No condom,” Harry tacks on, like it’s clarification for the raw segment of raw anal, as if it actually needed some sort of clarification. 

Y/N takes another sip. Damn good latte. 

“I like it,” the young woman tells him, clearing her throat on this edge that implies she’s mindful of her volume. Somehow, even as a freelance pornstar, she still hasn’t quite managed to get over the awkward degree of shame that a public setting incites. “I like the...” 

That barista is definitely fucking peering over.

“…The mess,” she settles on, because anal creampie doesn’t feel like a term to be said with her whole chest over a guava pastelito. 

For a short moment, Harry just watches her, jade roaming and the corners of his mouth slowing seeping into a simper, like he knows brazenly discussing anal creampies in the middle of a cafe — not quite packed, but still a cafe — has her kind of squirming in her seat. He takes another drink. 

“She’s got airpods in,” the man tells her eventually, forest-y irises jolting to something behind her head — the barista that’s clattering about behind the counter. And if she’s listening in, she’s probably going to go home and find one of them online, or ultimately both, and probably subscribe. 

The tension in her shoulders melts away the longer he grins at her over the lip of his lid, dimples indented in the flesh beside the upturned edges of his mouth. It’s just what they do for a living. It’s just sex. It’s just talking about the sex they’re going to have on camera. 

There’s bells and whistles to it, too, but it beats sitting at home and answering phone calls where angry customers screech all tinny through the headset and don’t comprehend the words, “Sir, if you can’t use your inside voice and talk to me like a civilized human being, I’m not going to be able to resolve your issue.” For Y/N it is. At least she gets a couple of orgasms out of this. 

“Sorry,” she tells him, shoulders slumping, “I think I’m still not— I get …weird talking about it in public settings.”

Tiger gives her this careful look over, eyes amused. 

“S’okay, I understand. If you’d rather get into the details back at mine, I’m okay with that.” 

“No, no,” Y/N protests, motioning out with her free hand, almost like her frigidly humiliated disposition will turn him off from collaboration, “No. It’s just, like. Sex work— it’s— it’s 2024. Nothing to be ashamed of.” 

Harry blinks. He gives her another one of those slow, knowing grins with his strawberry mouth. 

“No, seriously. We can get into the …rough drafting in a more private setting.” And then he takes another casual, horribly nonchalant sip, “I get it.” 

The man splays back against the chair, the hand not clutching at his beverage laid against smooth bamboo varnish, the nails there neatly manicured and painted with a soft shade of green lacquer. Y/N wonders what that particular color would look like with a glimmering top coat after he’s sunk the digits in between her thighs. She casts her gaze back up to his face. 

“I just figured I’d ask because we exchanged tests last week.” 

Clean as a whistle, RideTheTiger, (appropriately renamed in her contacts as Harry Tiger OF collab), had messaged on a Tuesday afternoon. That text was tailed with an HDR attachment of paperwork detailing his clean-as-a-whistle results, for proof. And the polish on his nails, fingertips gripped over the edge of the sheet, had been a pretty sky blue in the picture. 

She’d wondered the same thing, then; what OPI’s Rich Girls & Po-boys would look like glazed with a sheen of her slick arousal. 

He’s just a fuckable man, Y/N thinks, sat back in his chair like discussing sex work scene scripting is a normal mid-day affair, soft dusting of stubble coating his jaw, curls swept up off his forehead. His white tee shrouds the swallows and the inky butterfly she’s seen flexing over his tummy, the laurels that seep into the deep cut of his v-line, but it does very, very little to hide the artistry that litters his arm. 

That same arm she’d seen in videos, wrapped in pumped muscle as his fingers had worked his partner to the brink of bliss at a merciless pace, plush mouth shaping over some sort of filthy croon, dimples indented. Those same hands cradling over his counterpart’s throat with a gentle squeeze, that same thumb swiping messily over his partner’s bottom lip. Those same eyebrows with a crease carved between their furrow, those same curls in sweaty, disheveled disarray from the incessant rake through of his hands as his cock got swallowed up by a pretty, swarthy-skinned brunette, or maybe a blonde. A curl that’d flopped over his forehead in those videos, hardly hiding a rivulet of sweat that’d dripped from his hairline, is neatly tucked back under designer shades, now. 

Designer shades he’s bought with his dirty porn money, because despite his spiffy, clean boy, seemingly innocuous demeanor, RideTheTiger is dirty, dirty, dirty. 

Because under his warm smiles and his twinkling jade, there’s an alter ego that lives on the internet. One she’s all too familiar with. 

It makes her chest sort of flush under her sweater. This is happening. This is going to happen. 

The chair creaks a little when he sits up, clearing his throat, “I didn’t want to assume, but. I mean— I’m sure you’ve seen, like, my tips. Is it …odd to say I’m a fan of your content?” his gaze slowly settles from his drink to her face, smooth baritone almost …bashful as plush pink splits into a beam and his words catch on a laugh, “Is that …weird?”

Y/N knows exactly what he’s referring to. They’d been two mutuals subscribed to one another, chunks of profit migrating from inbox to inbox. It’d been like a volley, electric currency bouncing through the expanse of the internet, racket to racket, account back to account, pinging notifications striking on uploads behind paywalls. Only then, Tiger was just a man behind a screen. Tiger wasn’t sitting at a table in front of her, and they weren’t discussing the crude elements of the video they were going to shoot together. 

“Not at all,” Y/N clears her throat and pairs it with a side-to-side shake of her head. 

She’ll never admit that she’d touched herself to the solo session that’d popped up in her DM’s behind a paywall only last week, an automated promotion sent out to all subscribers. The one where he’d been sat in one of those lush, swivel-y chairs in front of his computer, firm thighs splayed and ringed hand tugging over his leaky cock. The camera angle was broad enough to capture his eye contact with the lens, the way his front teeth would nip at his bottom lip, the way the column of his straining throat would go on show as he’d tipped his head back with a groan. 

She blinks, staring ahead as she remembers the way cum had painted all the way up over the panting butterfly. Harry grins from across the table. She half-expects him to brazenly admit he’s done the same to her content. So far, she’s concluded that he’s quite unashamed. 

“Makes it easier to fuck, right?” Y/N says, beating him to the punchline. 

He makes this face then, tipping his head, eyes widening and blinking playfully, mouth curling like he’s appalled by her brazen admission in said public setting. Before the young woman can get flustered by his teasing, he sits back and lets his features relax into something soft.

“Yeah. It does.” 

Harry doesn’t tell Y/N she should wear a plug on the day that they calendar in for shooting. Not while they’re in the cafe. In fact, he waits three whole hours until the very precise moment where she’s using her apple pay at a drive through for the notification banner to swipe down. 

When Y/N steps into his entryway, there’s a wilting cactus stemming from a ceramic basin next to a bowl of keys and varying knick knacks. There’s a pair of dice in there, too. 

“This is Tim,” Harry introduces, unprompted, motioning to the withering plant in passing. 

Y/N nudges with her chin like a sort of acknowledgement, tailing him through the hallway, where a neat array of three framed, abstractly artistic renditions of Kama Sutra positions line the segue. She’s half convinced that the doggy one follows her movement like one of those oddly unsettling renaissance portraits. 

“Very nice.”

It’s a Thursday, and they’ve determined today to be the day that they collaborate. She’s wearing the plug, and she tries to ignore the anticipation curdling in the pits of her tummy as she tails him to the lounge. 

“I think I overwatered him, honestly,” Harry tells her, aimed over his shoulder, “but I can’t bear to part with him.” 

He’s wearing gray sweats, and he’s definitely opted to go commando, if the imprint of his dick when he pivots to face her is anything to go off of (though, whether he’s ditched underwear for the sake of the shoot or solely for comfort, Y/N isn’t sure). All she’s really, actually sure of is that she urgently needs to unglue her eyes from the outline of his cock. 

“D’you want a drink or anything? I mean, I don’t like to do any alcohol before shoots, but if you want, I have seltzers in my fridge.” 

He’s all soft attire — the sweats and bare feet padding over tile, curls a little mussed and swept back. A white tee coats his torso with a cartoonish bee in the center. The words ENJOY HEALTH, EAT YOUR HONEY circle the little piece of outlined artwork in blue. His nails are still green. 

Y/N clears her throat. “Do you have water?” 

“F’course.” 

The kitchen is beside the lounge, and he tells her, as he makes his way over and opens a cabinet to cull a glass, “You can have a seat if you’d like. Figured we’d get the details down before we start filming.” 

His couch is an onyx leather, its form like one of those fancy ones from a 1970s inspired catalog. Y/N sinks into the cushion. She crosses her legs. Uncrosses them. Behind her, the fridge whirs in the kitchen as the water pours into the glass. She’s admiring his fireplace when he stretches the beverage out to her.

“What are we feeling today?” the man winds around to the bend of the sectional, flopping back against the cushions with a sigh as his cotton-clad thighs splay, “…Slow and romantic? Something a little more rough?” 

“Used and abused,” Y/N responds, surprised she manages to keep her cadence as even and nonchalant as she does. The second the statement escapes her, though, she takes a long sip from her glass and hides her simper behind it. 

“Used and abused,” Harry parrots, sitting up a tad as his hands seek new homage from their priorly relaxed splay over the back of the couch. His palms smooth down the fronts of his thighs, instead, and he gives her this little grin; something mischievous that lets his dimples wink alive. “I think I can work with that.”

Yes. She’s certain he can, based on his track record of deviously, deliciously rough content. Three weeks ago she watched a video where his partner was laid out on a table, duck-taped limb to limb, and Y/N had watched his hand — rings removed — roam her body with such delicacy as he drove forward into her. It was all up until the point where the same hand had snaked up around her throat, and then he’d brought it back and smacked her right across the side of her unsuspecting face. It’d sent his partner’s head snapping to the side, and a wave of heat riding through Y/N, coursing through her blood as she’d flipped the vibrator between her thighs to a higher setting. 

Yeah. He can work with that. 

“Since we’re going with that route,” Y/N blinks out from the fog of memoirs circling back to Tiger’s hands exploring and pinching and delivering blows. 

Tiger is much more subdued in this setting. 

“Let’s talk things you’re into, things you’re not so into.” 

The young woman gnaws into her cheek to bridle her grin. “Um. Anal’s a go. Obviously.”

Harry nods, mouth friendly, “Okay.” 

Y/N deliberates. She takes another sip. Harry waits patiently. His green bores into her, and the young woman rolls her lips into her mouth, pupils climbing up to the ceiling as she contemplates. She cocks her head.  

“…Face-fucking. That’s nice. I like dirty talk. I like getting my hair pulled. I like a little bit of pain. You know, like. Spanking. Face slapping, but not, like,” the edges of her mouth cave up, “MMA level—“

The joke culls a huff of soft laughter from him. He nods. 

“Just. General manhandling is good with me,” Y/N tells him. 

Harry nods, his fingers interlocked over his spread knees, and then he sits up a tad. 

“Alright. If we’re going with face fucking, I’m a fan of the trusty tap-tap-tap,” he tells her, motioning with his left palm and patting over his thigh in a series of three as he speaks, “If it ever gets to be too much and you can’t say it, just tap three times, yeah? Just like this.”

Y/N nods. She takes another sip. For a moment, Tiger still has his forearms braced over his lap, but then he sits up a little more. 

“And then when you can say, if anything’s uncomfortable, if you want me to do anything different, just let me know. Doesn’t matter if the camera’s on.” 

Y/N crosses her ankles. She uncrosses them.

“S’all about authenticity. Y’know,” his tongue peeks out to swipe over the plush of his bottom lip, “I don’t wanna be throwing you against the wall or choking you if it doesn’t feel good, even if it looks good on camera. If you’re a clit girl, we’ll play with your clit—“

Her thighs press together.

“If you’re a g-spot girl, we’ll focus on the g-spot.”

She swallows. 

“The throwing against the wall and the choking,” Y/N doesn’t bother hiding her simper as it grows, “Those are good with me, too. And— clit stuff. Yeah.” 

Tiger is hot. Fire hot, like lava coursing and bubbling over rigid stone, even in his soft attire with his soft curls and his soft smiles. He’s got these eyes that feel like they bore through her clothes, but it’s not in an uncomfortably hungry way. 

“What do you… what should I call you during the shoot?” 

His strawberry mouth curls a little. 

“I hear Tiger a lot. M’fine with whatever besides Harry on camera. …If you wanna get a little more into roles we can do Sir. But s’all up to you.” 

It feels like he’s just got this effect — this intense gaze that makes her tummy swirl. It’s not innately an odd shift, going from this entirely professional discourse to soft touches roaming up her sides once they’re in the bedroom. 

It’s the setting for their shoot, and she finds that he’s already got a camera set up on his dresser. One of those that opens up and has a little screen piece that swivels to show what’s currently recording. Harry trails over to it, toggles with the little screen, and, she assumes, begins recording. 

There’s a shag rug by the bed in cream. Y/N eyes it as Harry tugs his shirt over his head, as he makes his way over. Tiger is fire hot, but his touch skims her arm like testing the waters at first. His palms cups her face, the pads of his fingers grazing the sides of her neck, close to her nape, and then his cushiony mouth finds her own. That’s testing at first, too. It’s not a chaste, innocent first kiss by any means, but his mouth is gentle, at first. His hands aren’t hard, and his mouth slots against her own with a kind of tenderness. When her fingers tease up at his waistband, fingering at a warm line of skin between his sweats and his t-shirt, his mouth morphs hungrier. 

“Just—“ Y/N manages between searing kisses as his fingers work the seams of her shirt apart through button-work, “—-jumping right into it, huh?” It’s probably not the sexiest thing to say from the get go of the camera rolling, but she’s honestly still got bits of nerves coiling up in her. This is RideTheTiger. This is happening. She’s going to fuck RideTheTiger. 

Another short kiss, this one she can feel the cushiony pink of his mouth curving up into. 

“Sorry,” Harry amends against her mouth, lips ghosting wetly against her cupid's bow, and the word sounds sort of amused.

And then he’s manually spinning her and marching her over to the dresser, where the camera is set up, her stumbling, rushed gait steadied by the firm press of his thighs from behind as he walks her, colossal hands cupped over her arms. 

“This—” he starts, an introduction blatantly made for the lens, and her pulse stutters when his palm slides up and across and cups over her throat warmly — not quite squeezing, but just there. His other hand explores the expanse of her silhouette from the waist down, pads of his fingers roaming over her tummy, “—is the infamously naughty Birdie.” 

Her veins thrum with something, something hot when the ringed digits traipse to the button of her jeans, just looming over. 

“Can I take these off?” Harry murmurs against the shell of her ear. The tips of his curls tickle at her temple, and she knows he asks it low enough that it’s meant for her. She knows the camera will pick up on it anyways, too. 

“Yeah,” the agreement falls out meshed with an exhale, and her head tips back against his shoulder as his fingers do deft, impressively one-handed work at quick discarding. 

The other hand fondles at one of her tits, only covered with fabric for so long before he takes advantage of the opening he’d made along the line of buttons, pulling at one side for the pink polka-dotted cup of her bra to come out on display. This is all very pro-level disrobing. Y/N decides that when Harry multi-tasks, popping the button of her denim through, pinching at the zipper and tugging down, all still with his other hand caressing over padded flesh at her chest. Ultimately, though, both hands make their way to her hips, and his digits wriggle under either side of her waist band to strip her jeans off, until they rest at about an immobilizing mid-thigh, with an unceremonious yank. 

“I’m Tiger,” Harry talks again, finally, after what’d been a silent moment of apparent concentration, his chin ducked into the nook where her shoulder and her neck meet. 

The man’s fingers toy up under the hem of Y/N’s shirt, wandering over a bare sliver of skin between the top and the line of her panties before they climb the buttoned suture and make work there. 

A chill rolls down her spinal cord, stemming all the way from the nape of her neck, the back and underside of her skull, when Harry declares, almost like she’s not even there, his voice a low and heady baritone, “But, she’s going to call me Sir, and we’re gonna play a little rough with her today, because that’s what she asked for.” 

He’s mid her panting ribcage when the tone in his dialogue switches. It melts from sultry and low to something mirthy when the man sighs and huffs against her neck, like the rounded latches are a long-time nemesis, “Buttons, buttons, so many buttons.” 

Y/N can’t curb the surprised laugh that bubbles from her in response. Her hands rise from her sides (where they’d prior been pretty glued, mostly out of awe and the raw sort of submission manhandling incites), and her forearms brush against his own warm skin as the pads of her fingers shakily work over the stitch he’s on. Harry makes an amused sound into her skin as the corners of her mouth curl up. 

This is real. These are the real moments, the ones that she’s ogled so many times from the other side of the screen, caught on camera mid an otherwise entrancing, perfectly choreographed session of picture-perfect fucking. Like the one where he’d spit and it hadn’t landed where he’d wanted it to, or the one where his partner had spent so long in an angle with her hair over her face and his palm cupped over her mouth, that by the time he’d let up she was spitting out stray hair that’d sunk in past her lips, like a cat with a hairball. Soft laughter had bloomed from the both of them when recognition had dawned, and he’d fingered over her tongue to help her as they’d switched positions. It makes sense why Harry never seems to edit those moments out. 

Authenticity. 

Y/N hopes he doesn’t cut this fragment of the video out. 

“Sorry,” the young woman tells him, her voice garbled with giggles. 

His hands snake up from under her own and they’re the one to pop the final button through. A chilly ring brushes the inside of her wrist. The top separates. 

“There we go,” Harry says, tone colored with enthusiasm, and the way his fingers grip up under the cups of her bra, four for each, and tug abruptly, letting them rest under her freshly-bared tits, kind of, sort of gives her whiplash. 

“Teamwork,” his thumbs slip under either side of her underwear and slink those down until just enough is showing for the eye of the lens. 

Her gaze flits to the viewfinder, and the little icon of her denuded silhouette, pressed up against his chest, one swarthy, inked arm tucked over her ribcage and the sight of his other, ringed digits skimming lower, down her tummy, has her squirming in his grasp. Harry sponges kisses to the side of her neck, and then those ring-clad fingers slide between her legs. Every melty muscle in his arms grows wide awake and tensed like fucking stone. It’s only for a second, before he draws his index and his middle digit, splayed into a blissful V, across either side of her clit. That’s when she liquefies like putty in his hands again, humming softly. 

“…And we’re gonna play with her arse,” Harry tacks on for the camera, almost like it’s an offhand afterthought and not the entire basis of the scene they’ve etched out. 

Y/N laughs, but it melts off into something soft and whimpery when the V lingers and drags. 

“Would you like that?” Harry murmurs, nose tucked into her hair — another comment where the volume implies that it’s obviously meant to be shared between just the two of them — his mouth ghosting over her earlobe and his hand climbing up the ridges of her ribcage like a ladder, “Hm? You want me to play with you there?” 

When his palm expands to rest over the gap between the caging of bone, the space extends out on a breath and she rocks in his touch, hips rolling back subtly. “Mhm.” 

It’s not something he fails to pick up on. The pads of his fingertips expertly toggle at the clasp of her bra — honestly, she’s ludicrously impressed, not only by his keen recognition of the frontal clasp, but this seemingly innate, deft ability to discard clothing pieces with one hand. The straps relax and slip down her shoulders the second the cups fall free and apart. 

“Mhm?” Harry mimics; a low, teasing hum. Y/N thinks then, that this little, patronizing repetition thing he’s got going on could be categorized as a kink in and of itself. 

The palm that’d settled over her diaphragm slinks up to grope at one of her tits. 

It’s kind of game over from there. 

There’s something hard and solid digging into the small of her back, and the longer he spends fondling between her thighs, the longer he spends swiping his thumb over her nipple, the more heat teems to her core, like a glowing warmth that seeps and pulses. The more sure Y/N becomes that his fingertips are definitely culling that top coat she’d pictured all along, enhancing the color there with glinting excitement. 

“There’s a good girl,” Harry purrs when her legs spread a smidge more in response, despite the way they’re nearly glued together with the immobilizing squeeze of her waistband resting mid-thigh. 

The tip of his nose burrows into her hair and grazes at the skin on the side of her neck when his head ducks, fingers sneaking further until the pads press to explore where she’s gushing. His index and his thumb work in tandem to pinch at a nipple and tug. 

And then his tongue licks a practically searing stripe right beside her jugular, and his words send air over wet skin to soothe the flame, “…Getting my fingers all wet, aren’t you?” 

Gameovergameovergameovergameover.

Shelosesshelosesshelosessheloses.

Another burst of air over the wet skin, the soft creak of a chuckle — that’s what reminds her that she’s definitely not breathing. 

Fuck. Y/N sucks in air with a chest tensed like metal armor. His teeth nip over her earlobe. 

And then RideTheTiger slides his slick fingers out from between her legs, coaxing (when she sags in his grip like a marionette that’s had its strings snipped), “Why don’t you give them a little spin and show them the pretty plug you’ve been wearing for me, pet.”

Touch, touch, touch. When Y/N pivots for him, turning her backside to the camera, his mouth brushes the crest of her cheekbone. His warm pecs go flush with her own chest, his palms settle on her love handles and the insides of his rings stipple chills to combat the heat of flesh on flesh. He sponges a kiss to her throat when the young woman throws a glance back to the little screen and shakily presses her palms to the globes of her backside, pulling the flesh there apart to show off the pretty end, silicone petals cradling the shape of a rose. 

That’s when he kneels, cheek pressed to the side of her thigh, when he casts his gaze to the plug with that telltale furrow to his brow bone that she’s seen caught on camera so many times. That’s when his teeth burrow into the pillow of his bottom lip, when he brushes a nearly tentative touch over the plug with the tips of his fingers. That’s when Harry nudges at it and jade bounces from the pallid pink plastic to the shape of her jawline tensing above in response, mouth growing mirthy. 

Nothing prepares her for the way he praises, almost like he’s in awe (and nearly too low for the camera to catch), “So pretty.”

A crease works in between her own eyebrows when his index and his thumb pinch over the plug and twist. And then he lays his thumb over the base and pushes, lightly, as if it can go any further. He draws the pad of his index over the hilt of the plug almost thoughtfully, and then tap-taps in a pair of two that makes her roll her lips into her mouth

“Don’t move,” Harry instructs, after a moment, sneaky, devious fingertips withdrawing altogether. She’s holding her breath again. Y/N readjusts her grip. 

“Just like that,” comes his croon from below, undeniably heady and entirely responsible for the warmth churning between her thighs, “…Just like that, little bird. Show it off, baby.” 

Little bird hits her like a fucking freight train. 

It’s just a play on words, a moniker he’s melded from her stage name, her online personality. It’s been all of, maybe, six minutes — a generous consideration for the timeframe — and he’s already managed to morph her porno pseudonym into a pet name with his soft murmur. 

She’s so focused on the ironic way that such a delicate thing off his tongue makes something so violently carnal stir within her that the young woman doesn’t even notice that he’s been sat near her thighs for a solid second, unspeaking and untouching, besides the paste of his warm cheek beside the press of her hands. 

It’s a suspiciously mischievous sort of silence, but Tiger is no secret-keeper, not when he pats over the back of her leg, a one-tap gesture, and rises to announce, one third amused and two-thirds smug, “Thumbnail.”

The admission is so crude and unexpected that it draws a peal of sputtering laughter from her, feigned indignation meshing with mirth as he rises from the floor, all cocky with an unfairly alluring curl that’s strayed from the rest and flopped to lay over his forehead. 

“You want to use my ass as your thumbnail?” 

Muted raspberry breaks its relaxed line to curve up, obviously self-satisfied and obviously unashamed. Y/N doesn’t think she’ll ever quite keep up with the casual nature of Harry’s mannerisms, not when he hums and his grin splits further, twisting around her to daub her jaw with a kiss.

“…And not my pretty face?” Y/N blinks.

“Last I checked—'' Harry tells her, fingers raking through her roots and palm cradling at her scalp in a way that coaxes chills to bud and roam down the nape of her neck. The digits twist her hair into a bun until his palm is squeezing at her hair all bunched like a flower blooming in reverse, “—You were here to be used and abused, per your request. Not to ask questions.” 

Despite the way he cranes her neck back with the motion, the way it has her jaw unlatching and a surprised exhale full of want escaping, despite the way he drags his teeth down her neck in a line, nipping, Y/N manages to keep her voice impressively even. 

“You don’t want my pretty face painted with your cum as the thumbnail?” she baits, throat bobbing on a swallow. 

He bites. 

At first, his lashline narrows a smidge in obvious inkling that the brazen words have affected him, but then he tips his head and his smug beam morphs more sluggish, more pleased than amused. 

“You want my cum painting your pretty face?” 

“Mm,” Y/N hums in agreement when he turns her head to paste a kiss to the corner of her mouth. 

“Yeah? That’s what you want?” 

His tone is suggestive as he manhandles her over onto the fuzzy rug she’d admired before things got all murky with arousal and …cinematic. Y/N twists in his grasp until he’s nudging her onto her knees with his hands. 

And his voice is low, easy like a sigh, each note interlaced with nonchalance and seemingly effortless power, “Let’s see how good you suck cock.”

Before Harry shoves his waistband down, though, he stuffs a hand into his pocket and culls his phone. He gives her this look down from behind it, thumb tucked behind gray elastic.  It’s this wordless, expressionless sort of seeking; all good? Y/N nudges with her chin, lashes fluttering. Tiger toggles over the screen one-handed, and her eyes flit to the uneven pull at his sweats — if only for a second — that showcases bare skin and the cut of a V-line on one side. As he nudges the sweats off to rest under his balls, the phone pings. It’s the sound of a notification — he’s recording. 

His dick is pretty. Pretty in pink with a prominent vein on the underside and a soft dusting of neatly trimmed, dark pubic hair over his pelvic bone that his happy trail had foreshadowed, and his tip is a ruddy shade that matches the tint of his mouth. She’s seen his cock before, obviously, but ogling it in person rather than as a conglomeration of pixels is a different sort of experience. He’s always looked big on screen, the sheer size of him with a fist over his shaft always implying it. But he’s big. Big enough for two of her hands to cradle over his cock comfortably with the head peeking out from her grip, digits never quite meeting in the middle. Y/N spits into a palm before wrapping it over his shaft, eyes flickering up front under her lashes to meet the lens of the camera. 

“You’re so big,” the young woman admits after a moment, irises bouncing from her grip to the phone looming over, and she drags her tongue over her other palm to cup over him with two like it’s proof. 

And Harry strokes over the side of her scalp, almost like he’s wordlessly scratching a dog’s ears in praise, a soft, pleased huff escaping through his nostrils and his lips shaping over a smug sort of beam that never really unseals. 

Almost tentatively, with her eyes still bouncing from the lens to his cock and back, Y/N leans forward and drags his tip over her tongue. Harry sighs in response, fingertips still hovering at her roots. She purses her lips and lets saliva dribble from her mouth onto his head messily, swiping over the wetness with her thumb, and then she strokes down his shaft with two hands as she wraps her lips over him and draws a circle with her tongue. The subtle, although sharp, inhale she earns in response to the motion has her batting her lashes up at the camera.  

“You’re not shy at all, are you? Not in front of the camera,” Harry says after a moment. 

He’s so obviously bridling a hiss when she drags her tongue up under his leaky tip, his front teeth lodging into the pillow of his bottom lip and brows furrowing. Despite the phone cradled over her face, the young woman still has enough room to observe his. Y/N bats her lashes coyly, pupils flitting back to the camera as her mouth opens to showcase the view of her hands working in gentle twists while she drags his cockhead over her tastebuds. 

“…No, you’re not that shy, little girl that you were in the cafe at all.”

She seals her lips over his tip, hollows her cheeks, and hums. 

“…All prim and proper,” the fingertips that’d scraped over the side of her scalp trail to the back of her head, “…Didn’t even wanna say you liked cum dripping out of you. Didn’t wanna let everyone know that you’re a little anal whore.” 

The words coax her to clench over the plug. 

“…S’okay, baby,” Harry tells her after a moment, “I like that you’re a whore on camera for me,”and then the hand that’d cradled over the back of her skull encourages her own palm to slowly unwrap and fall away as he curls it over his shaft to guide it’s aim. 

Y/N pulls off, and Tiger smears the tip over her spit-slicked, swollen mouth. It parts, and Harry traces over the open seam of her lips like he’s applying lip gloss. 

“Please,” the young woman says, mouthing over his tip, almost inaudible. 

“Hm?” 

“Please,” Y/N repeats, and the drag of his tip slides over her bottom lip on the s. 

Harry inhales from above. He doesn’t immediately give her what she wants, instead opting to draw over her cupid’s bow as he tips his head, voice quiet and still somehow full of a dominant edge. “So polite. You wanna taste more of my cock?” 

The young woman nods, eyes tipped up, and he smears his cockhead over her mouth again. Harry’s teeth nudge into the plush of his bottom lip before he directs, “Stick your tongue out for me. I’ll give you a little taste.” 

And he does. He grazes her tongue with it the moment it’s on show, basking in her soft breaths puffing out against him and the sweet sight of her gaze, unwavering. 

“S’that good?” Harry asks, mouth curling at the (currently) brazenly lewd young woman at his feet, “What you wanted?” 

And she just nods up at him. Despite the way she wants more, the way she wants to close her lips around him and keep twisting her grasp to watch his seams split in ecstacy, Y/N motions lightly with her head. A little sound escapes the back of her throat when he drags the tip of his cock back over her top lip and sighs. 

“You really are such a little whore, aren’t you?” Harry says, tracing along the open seam of her lips with the tip and dragging it over her tongue again, “Give me a pretty smile. Show me just how much you like it.“ 

His words melt off into a rumbly hum when, as he draws over the border of her bottom lip and takes his cock off her tongue, her pretty teeth slowly seep shut and the corners of her mouth form something absolutely overjoyed. Her head cocks, and she grins up at him. All innocuous too, if it weren’t for the head of a cock smearing over the edges of her smile. His thumb slinks out from the hold he’s got over his dick to graze with the pad at the shiny white of her top teeth. 

“Good girl.”

Somewhere around there is when her teeth part and his thumb mingles onto her tongue. Then, the young woman wraps her lips over the digit and sucks. The tension of her cheeks hollowing over his finger in the silence is cut short with a ping — Harry turns the camera off and flings the phone somewhere in the direction of the bed. There’s no definitive thump behind her, so Y/N assumes the man makes it. She hums and pulls off of the digit with a pop and a giggle. 

Dimples pluck alive beside his smile. “Something funny?” 

“No,” the young woman clears her throat, the apples of her cheeks still emphasized and round with her apparent amusement, “Nothing. It’s just.” She blinks up at him, “…Surreal, sort of. Your dick’s just as pretty in person as it is on camera.”

Tiger cocks his head and swipes over her bottom lip with the tip of said dick. She’s quite good at stroking his ego. 

“Thanks. That’s sweet, darling.”  

A furrow works between his brows as her tongue peeks out to daub at the lingering head. “You watch a lot of my videos?” 

And the admission comes almost hungry, with no remorse, “Mm. Touch myself to them.” 

That’s when his brows crease more, when heat swells down through the trench of his tummy and teems up the underside of his balls, where they drive taut at the words. 

“Christ.”

Blown jade bouncing from her lips to the contact of her own eyes and back. Eventually, he swallows and directs, “Tongue out.” 

When she displays it for him, jaw wide, those shambles splinters of composure seemingly fuse. The Harry that emerges nearly gives her whiplash. 

“You touch yourself to my videos?” Harry coos, and the words are coated with so much condescension that Y/N is sure she’d be humiliated in any other circumstance. 

Her tongue twitches under his cockhead. The man looming over swipes that same, leaky tip over her taste buds, and his grin broadens into something like a borderline sadistic Cheshire cat. And then he’s leaning over a smidge, cock still angled over her outstretched tongue, opposite hand fondling under that, at her jaw, and squeezing at her cheeks. 

“That is so—“ emphasizing the words with the slap of his tip against her tongue, Harry grits out, “—fucking—“ another tap that has her uselessly lolled tongue jolting and a garbled little sound wresting from the back of her throat, “—cute.”

Y/N blinks up at him, one hand uncurling slowly and falling away as he nudges the back of her head to swallow more of him in past her lips. 

“Why don’t you use that hand and play with your little clit for me? The way you do when you’re watching me.” 

She makes a muffled noise around him as he sinks in further, and her hand traipses between her poorly, poorly splayed thighs. 

“That’s it,” Harry murmurs, though whether the praise is directed at the way the tips of her fingers pry between her legs or the way she blinks wetly over his cock as she takes more of him into her mouth, Y/N is unsure. “There’s a good girl. Look at me— yeah. Fuck.” 

He holds onto either side of her head, long fingers splaying over her skull, and the young woman splutters when his tip prods at the back of her throat and teases at her gag reflex. The tip of her nose grazes his happy trail, so all in all, it’s a solid effort in one go. Harry holds her there for a moment, relishing in the squeeze of her throat over him as she fights sputtering more, and a throaty groan rips from his vocal chords before his fingers tangle into her hair. That’s when he yanks her off. 

Her chest is already rolling in pants, and the way his palm collides with the fleshy area of her cheek nearly launches her lightheaded headspace into overload. The blow isn’t loud, and it doesn’t really hurt, but he does it a second time, palm grazing over the same fragment of skin. It’s the hand that doesn’t have any rings, and Y/N’s mouth curls up in borderline delirious bliss, teeth unsealed and lips swollen and saliva-daubed. Tiger coaxes a moan when he goes for it a third time. But this time, his hand snakes to palm over the column of her throat and squeeze.

“Fuck, you’re filthy,” Harry tells her, thumb cruising over an inch of skin, “Such a slut for it.”

Her pulse thunders under his grasp. It’s almost like his touch pries the nearly animalistic giggle off her lips. She’s still beaming open-mouthed, and her voice is raw when she beckons, “Yeah—“

And then there’s a ragged gasp and subdued sort of gag, coated with surprise, when Tiger nudges her face forward and unceremoniously shoves his dick back down her throat, his brows pinched.  

“Get that mouth back on my cock.” 

Her hands find his thighs, just wavering over them, curling and unflexing as her eyes squeeze shut. 

“Don’t close your eyes. Look up at me. Look up at me— there you go,” Harry cooes when, despite every instinct that coaxes every muscle in her face to clench and tense, Y/N follows his directions and blinks up at him through a watery sheen. “Shit.”

And then he’s hauling her off and she’s gasping for breath, only for a short moment before he slides back past her jaw until her chin is flush with his sac and he’s pulsing in the warm confines of her mouth. Her lashes flutter. A devious kind of laugh bubbles from him, breathy, and low, and short when the heels of her palms press into the sturdy muscle beneath his laurels. Except this time he doesn’t yank her all the way off for a third time. He holds her there for a second, swearing softly at the view, and then tugs her off until his tip’s on her tongue and pumps back in. It’s a subtle motion — testing, like he’s observing her reaction, really assessing her comfort levels with this. He does it a few more times, as gentle of a motion as it really can be until she squints her eyes shut and muzzles a cough, blinking up at him rapidly through the blur. 

Harry swipes a thumb under her eye, where a rivulet leaks, praising almost in a whisper as she practically vibrates at his feet, “That’s it.” 

Another second to gasp in air, and then he’s fucking her mouth, brushing her gag reflex with every drive forward and every pump out. Y/N sort of loses herself in it — in the fingertips burrowing into her roots, in the huffs and groans that escape him, in the warm muscle beneath her touch, in the way his dick slides down her throat. It’s quite nice. RideTheTiger is fucking her mouth, and it’s nice.

“Look at you,” Harry hums after a while, the hold on the back of her head firm, and she blinks at him all teary-eyed, gagging around him as her chin presses flush with his balls. “So sloppy. Made my nice joggers all wet.” 

Drool pools down her chin, and strings of it dangle from his balls and sully the fabric further. She bats her lashes up at him, and tears slink off from her waterline. Her fingers flex and relax over his thigh, never quite loosening the tension there fully. The man swipes the thumb on his free hand under her eye, where inky black has smudged off from her lashes, and the lewd, left corner of his mouth tips up lopsidedly. 

“You’re such a pretty girl when you’re making a mess,” and then, to nail the demeaning compliment home with the most heady, joyfully smug tone, “Yes you are, little bird.”

His sluggish grin morphs into a borderline pornographic lip-bite then, and he cranes his neck back with a throaty hum, fingers tensing and relaxing, before his digits ultimately tighten in her hair and coax the young woman off. She coughs like she hasn’t breathed in ages, 

Y/N doesn’t know how she gets up to her feet. It’s a lightheaded clamber, coaxed by Harry’s fingers tugging at her hair, his hand on her arm, his definitive, “Get up.” Somehow, though, she manages, despite the fact that her jeans are still half-on, and Harry steadies her and makes her dizzy all at once when his mouth presses hungrily to hers. One hand cradles the side of her neck and the other braces her at the hip. It’s a heated kiss, like Tiger doesn’t mind that her chin is coated with spit, or that the same spit smears over his own jaw as their mouths connect. Y/N nearly trips over her own feet as he walks her, backwards, into the general direction of the bed. The mattress meets the backs of her knees and his hand (which has, since settling on her hip, mingled up her side and cupped over one of her tits) sends her toppling back against the sheets. Harry nearly snickers at her look of indignation. Instead though, he tucks his fingers up under her half-down denim and tugs until her pants are off and she finally, finally has the ability to spread her legs. He tosses those onto the rug, and Y/N watches Harry finish disrobing, kicking the gray sweats into a rumpled pile beside her jeans. 

The camera is still rolling on the dresser, and it’ll keep rolling. It’ll keep rolling when he sinks his face between her thighs, it’ll keep rolling when he pulls the plug out and nudges his fingers in, when he slips his cock into her cunt and then, eventually, switches to her other hole. Or maybe it’ll go in an all different order. Tiger cradles her by the hips and repositions her roughly. The lens doesn’t catch the way she’s all shimmery between her legs with want from its angle, but Harry does, eyes glued there as his fingertips trail featherlight up her thigh and back down. 

A crease works in between his brows like he’s contemplating something, and then he pats the same fragment of flesh he’d been caressing and instructs, “Flip over.” 

Y/N tips over to her side and then rolls onto her tummy, but when she clambers onto her hands and knees Harry beckons, “Where are you going, little bird?” He sighs, warm palm grasping over her ankle and yanking her back towards the edge of the bed, just until Y/N is splayed and forced to shimmy her way back into a pretty arch. “Hm?” 

His hand is still gripped over the joint when the other climbs up the back of her naked thigh, skin on skin petting softly there. “Where are you going, little girl?”  

She’s going to implode. She nearly does when his colossal palms cup either cheek of her backside and spread. He hums like he’s pleased. 

“Which hole should I fuck first…” Harry ponders aloud from behind, but it all feels sort of rhetorical when he nudges over her tightest, little hole, pressing like he’s teasing a breach with the tip of his digit. 

She thinks he must be using his other hand, too, because the pad of his thumb drives a circle over her puffy, spit-slicked clit. The ring of muscle flutters. 

“…Hm?”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shots #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #dom!harry x sub!reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #sub!reader #dom!harry #pornstar!harry

[simpjaes]

i saw ur threesome ask and ME! I AM WHO U ARE LOOKING FOR OMG IM SOOOO INTERESTED U HAVE NO IDEA HON! i was going to ask for u to do an mtl but don't you think all of them would be most likely? how about instead of that i ask

what would a ffm threesome look like between the members of hyung line and u?

oh, yes yes yes. you're so right! i have two or three other asks regarding an mtl for it but i agree, i think they'd all play with two baddies.

hyung line + ffm threesome

this one is for my fellow lgbtq+ babes!

★ heeseung: oh man, put heeseung between two girls and he's not only gonna be rock hard but probably struggling to figure out what he wants to do first. not at any point would he just be sitting off to the side and watching, oh no no. probably the type to have you and the other girl making out and bumping clits with his cock between you :( would absolutely pussy swap back and forth, as in, fucking you deep before pulling out and stuffing the other girl full just to feel the difference in grip and need. he'd also do a lot of guiding, probably while you're busy taking his cock deep down your throat he'd have the other girl by the hair and pushing her tongue into you. would fucking be in lovvvvvvvvve with having two hotties to ride him at the same time. his fave position would definitely be you bouncing on his cock and her sitting on his face. mostly because if he's gonna be cumming in anyone, it's gonna be you.

☆ sunghoon: i think sunghoon would be more inclined to pay attention to you over anyone else at first, and would always need confirmation to do more, more, more. eventually though, he'd understand the circumstances and something in his brain would just...break. a full on fucking porn star he'd become. never leaving anyone out, always offering pleasure to the both of you, with his mouth, cock, hands, whatever. i'm talking the type to have you under one arm, and the other under his other arm, with both of his hands finger fucking deeeeeeeeeeeep just to feel two mouths sucking on his neck at the same time. he'd also love fucking one of you on your back (with your/her legs wrapped around him), while the other props herself up in front of his face, spreading her legs wide just so he can lick and suck however and whenever he pleases. everyone leaves satisfied when sunghoon is involved.

★ jake: throw back to the original ask about this but like I said before, jake would go fucking insane having two girls make out while he pushes his cock between their mouths and mess of tongues. all three of you guys would be fucking feral. not a single person would be left unfucked or not covered in cum. you'd be all over her, you'd be all over him, and likewise for jake. likewise for the third girl as well. there would be so many instances of jake + her pleasuring you with their tongues, and vice versa. hell, jake would probably get down on his knees just to eat both of you out at some point too, always swapping his mouth to his fingers just to mix the flavor of both cunts in his mouth. would be soooooooo hungry for it too. there would be a lot of oral and oral fixation in this situation. just a lot of...tasting each other before the eventual fucking takes place. and mannnn, would jake be in heaven at that point. having two girls fight to sink down on his cock is one thing, but having two girls agree how much of him they get is somehow even better? Opting to pay more attention to the one not riding him into oblivion at any given moment just to make damn sure that everyone is moaning and feeling just as good as he does.

☆ jay: probably a little bit of stage freight at first, seeing you and your best friend grinding on each other fully clothed, patting the bed as if to invite him to join. Which, i mean, of course he would need to join, you did this for his birthday lol. jay would become the ultimate service top, which for you can be a bit jarring considering how well he manages control when it's just the two of you. in this circumstance, he lends most of the control to you. he's also definitely the type to make small comments like, "can i watch you eat her out first?" just so he can lay back and reeeeeeeealllly enjoy the show before joining himself. and he would enjoy it, honestly, like his cock would be fucking weeping by the point you lunge for it with your best friend in tow. much like jake, jay would also go insane seeing two pretty girls with their sparkling eyes blinking up at him as they both work their tongues against his cock :/ like i'm talking his eyes would be fucking crossed at how good it feels. and, well, by the end of the night (which arguably, this would take place for hours because his stamina is....intense), he'd have already fucked you both with his tongue, cock, and hands well past the point of satisfaction.

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut #jaeyun smut #jongseong smut #jake smut #jay smut #enha smut #hardthots

[fbfh]

tristin dugray relationship and intimacy hcs pt 2

wc: 1.1k

pairing: tristin x (implied fem) reader

genre: straight up smut with some mild feelings

warnings: brief mention of exhibitionism, debriefing with madison and louise, aftercare, cuddles, car sex, sex in a variety of places, cockwarming, nudes, brief mention of oral (m recieving)

song rec: mary - alex g (bc this is literally tristin's song. it's so fucking tristin coded.)

a/n: so good news I think my adhd medication is finally working lol

tags @yesv01 @magcon7280

As with all nsfw works all characters are aged up to 18+

WITHOUT FURTHER ADIEU MORE TRISTIN SMUT BC I’M FOAMING AT THE FUCKING MOUTH

What’s fun about Tristin

Among many other things

Is his fixation with your hips

Seriously it was one of the first things this horny motherfucker noticed about you

Whenever you wear anything mildly form fitting he can’t take his goddamn eyes off your hips

Once you’re together it’s basically impossible for him to resist touching them

Sometimes it’s a playful squeeze

Or an affectionate rub

Other times it’s full on groping while he shoves his tongue into your mouth and makes you grind against his thigh

He could live like that for days and not get tired

Speaking of

Tristin has fucking stamina for DAYS

“Men can’t have multiple orgasms” tell that to him!!!!!!!!

He just… has a fixation with all of you honestly

Like there’s no part of you that he’s not going to eye the fuck up 

You know the looks he’s always giving Rory???? 

That’s just the tip of the iceberg babe

Or should I say tip of the penis lol

Anyway 

Tristin is vocal as FUCK

Like mans can’t shut up

Even when we’ve reached the previously mentioned dumbfucking point, he’s still going to be whining and grunting and panting nonstop

His moans have you gushing like niagara falls tbh 

There is a zero percent chance he’s not going to give you the most affectionate aftercare every time too

So much praise and kisses and cuddles

Like he’ll genuinely get upset if you try to just bounce afterwards

Or worse

If he wakes up the next morning and you’re not there

Maybe he could handle casual hookups with other girls

But not with you

He will absolutely pull you back into bed and demand kisses and cuddles

I’m not gonna lie

He does have a little bit of an exhibitionist streak

Just a tiny itty bitty one

Mostly just from the urge to prove that you’re his when other guys keep flirting with you

If the circumstances were right and you were down, he would be happy to put on a show for them, show them how good he treats you

If you’re still friends with madison and louise/go to the same college as them they will BEG you for details and live vicariously through you

The line where they saw Tristin and Summer making out in front of Rory’s locker and one of them (I forget which one) was like “if you’re dating Tristin you have the right to make out anywhere and everywhere”

…

Yeah

They will literally grill details out of you

Whatever they can get

And the way they look at him after

The little sighs and head tilts and staring off into space thinking about what you told them, letting their imaginations go wild

It would make you jealous

If you didn’t know how much he likes you

But yeah there’s no one that can take you away from Tristin 

He loves you

And he loves keeping things fresh and spicy and exciting

He absolutley fucks you in his car a lot

Like a lot lot 

There’s at least a few pairs of your panties that you’ve lost somewhere in the fancy leather seats

He’ll also happily fuck you in your car

And every room and surface of your apartment

And your apartment hallway

And in an elevator once 

And public bathrooms

And your bathroom

And pretty much anywhere he thinks yall can get away with

Seriously this boy is such a slut but he’s only a slut for you

You light him on fucking fire and he can’t cope

He needs you biblically,, like in a way that’s concerning to feminism.

You can tell how he feels just from the way he looks at you 

And it’s obvious as shit to everyone else too

Like literally everyone

He eye fucks you a lot lot lot

GOD this boy can seduce you so fast

He moans so loud for you too

Tristin will really give you a good show

He wants to impress you

Wants you to need him

(cough cough praise kink)

He wants to breathe the same air as you

He wants to wrap you up so tight in his arms that it feels like you’re merging into one person

Tristin is the “cuddling isn’t enough I need to climb inside your skin” kinda clingy

Solution is cockwarming

Which you both love a lot

Once he realizes cockwarming is an option????? 

It slowly increases in frequency

There’s a good chance you won’t be able to sleep without it at some point

Seriously he will hold you tight and rub your back and touch your soft skin and tell you all the lovey dovey things he feels about you

Most of it is lovey dovey

But don’t let that fool you 

He is the CEO of both his family company AND dirty thoughts about you

Seriously he’s set off so easily by you

9 times out of 10 he’s probably fantasizing about you

Remembering your touch

How you feel around him

God he can’t wait to get his hands on you again

Let me tell you

Tristin is a motherfucking MENACE when it comes to sexting

He will have you blushing over the phone in ways you didn’t know you could blush

He’s so shameless about it too

If you send him nudes??????

He will literally die

And he’ll happily, happily return the favor

Once he realizes how you react when he sends you nudes?????

He never wants to stop

He literally loves getting you all feral and worked up over him

Don’t let Madison and Louise find out Tristin sends you nudes or else they will steal your phone and make a copy of your fingerprint with sticky tape and face powder just to access them /hj

Speaking of going feral

Tristin’s happy trail?????????

Are we gonna talk about it??????

Are we gonna talk about how you want to fucking bite him and deep throat him until you memorize every vein whenever you see his lil happy trail????

Because you will

You’ll definitely want to

Okay putting myself down now lol

I need his cock immediately

Constantly covered in hickeys and unable to walk and he loves it so much

He loves when you need him and he loves fucking you so good that you’re out of commission the next day

It’s what you deserve

You think he’s a menace now???

God help you when he gets baby fever

#tristin dugray #tristin dugray smut #tristin dugray x reader #tristin dugray headcanons #tristan dugray smut #tristan dugray x reader #tristan dugray #gilmore girls smut #gilmore girls x reader #gilmore girls #he is so biteable #i want to bite him

[springalwayscomes]

Closer

Closer (Teaser) Closer: Too Close (Teaser) Masterlist Taglist

Plot: To have each other close is something that you both always wanted, in a way or another. It’s just that… close is not close enough anymore for Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Domestic, Humor, Friends to Lovers

Wordcount: 27k

Content Warning: mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, swearing, pining, minor injury, praise, cunnilingus, cum eating, unprotected sex, mentions of blowjob, masturbation, hand job, dry humping, multiple orgasms, love making, creampie 

Author’s Note: Hello! I had the first line of this fic stuck in my notes for a while, it stayed there without really going anywhere, then inspiration came and the miracle happened in a few days. I like this so much so I hope you will like it too! There are some parts that just do things to my heart, one of these is inspired by Gaelforce. I don’t know if you follow him but if you do you sure will realise when you’ll get there!

Let me know what you think about it, again I hope you’ll like it!💜

If you want to be tagged in my taglis to get notified when my other works will come out let me know here, under this post, with a message or an ask. Feel free to talk to me for whatever, I always appreciate your messages!🫶🏻💜

Jungkook walked in on you using your vibrator as a microphone when you were nineteen, lipsynching as if your life depended on it. 

He had laughed so fucking loud that time that you still feel your ears grow red when you think about it. 

He has teased you for it from the moment it happened, still does it now.

Back then, it was so freaking hilarious he would bring it up every time you were too mad at him, to make you laugh it off and let go of the heavy atmosphere creating between you every time you used to fight as teenagers. 

Five years afterwards, as of now, he still thinks about it from time to time. It makes him giggle when he’s in the middle of a meeting at work, when he has a stressful day, when he’s just laying in bed with his head empty. Usually, that would be the case. Now that you’re sitting on his couch with a bag of pop corns squished in your hands while the tv is playing though, is a new circumstance. 

«What are you laughing at? You’re so loud» you wince at him, monotone and annoyed.

He licks his lips, shaking his head.

«Your vibrator still haunts me» 

It takes you less than two seconds to realise what he’s talking about. 

«You’re so annoying. Should I bring up the time you farted out loud in class too?»

«That’s not the same,» he laughs «I told you that I wasn’t feeling good but you insisted on going to class anyway»

«You didn’t go for three days straight-» you fight back, stopping yourself when the camera points on Park Seojun. 

«Gosh, this man. I’m gonna marry him someday» you sigh dreamily. Jungkook snorts.

«Cause I was sick?» he opens the fridge.

«You drank with Jin the night before. You shouldn’t drink if you’re sick. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t hold it until class was over»

«You’re so noisy» he rummages through the shelves, finally finding the bowl of strawberries he was looking for.

«Want some?»

You quickly glance at him over the counter, pop corns stuffing your mouth full.

«No, thanks. I’m full with these»

He gets a spoon from the drawer, walking back to the sofa. 

«The face you made when I walked in is still funnier than-»

«When you farted in front of the class?» you cut him off, trying to get some sense in his head.

«Hell, yeah» he laughs.

«You literally-»

«Okay, now stop!» you slap his ass before he gets a chance to sit down.

«Oh, yes keep going» he fakes a moan. You literally want to slap him hard enough to make him stop being an idiot, but you have to hold yourself back.

«Just shut up and let me see Park Seojun» you shake your head. Jungkook gets a spoonful of strawberries into his mouth, eyes falling on the screen and eyebrows pinched together.

It’s a Saturday, thanks God the both of you don’t work on weekends, so usually you both find yourself on the sofa, watching a movie or just messing around. You’ve known each other since you were sixteen, so to say that you’re pretty comfortable with each other is an understatement. Even when you first met him, the nineteen years old Jungkook never made you feel uneasy. You were inseparable. Best friends that used to sleep at each other’s place every three to four days because you were just used to it. It was natural, so natural that a lot of the people around you thought you were a couple. Back then, you would grimace and shake your head vividly, not even giving it a thought. Jungkook would laugh it off, heart beating loudly in his chest every time anyone made him imagine how it would’ve been. 

«Do you still have it?» he asks, voice low as he stares at the screen.

«What?» you murmur. He doesn’t answer, his spoon scraping against the plastic of the bowl to get as much strawberries as he can into his mouth. He munches on them, gulping down and enjoying the sweet taste.

«That vibrator» 

«Jungkook! What kind of question is that?» you stop the drama, his thigh getting hit by the remote.

«I was just asking!» he raises his hands as to make sure you understand he meant no harm, the bowl now sitting on his lap.

«Why would you ask that?» your tone makes his eyes smile first, as he always does. His eyes smile first, then his lips just follow.

«Why are you so sensitive about it? I won’t ask, but we both know you still use it» he gets up from the couch, getting to the sink to put the empty bawl inside. 

«We say filthier things when we’re in bed!» he goes on from where he’s standing at. Your head is going to explode. It’s at times like this that you rethink about your life choices. From being sixteen and dumb, until you’re twenty four and ending up with sleeping with your best friend. 

«In bed! Leave those for when we’re in bed!» you fight back, another pop corn getting shoved into your mouth.

«Okay,» he appears by your side «wanna go to bed so I can ask you?» 

You can’t believe him. 

«Jungkook!» he laughs, bright and out loud, crystal clear. It makes your insides twist and turn with the need of shutting him up.

It’s not like it’s a everyday thing, sleeping together. It just happened three times, out of the blue. You both agreed that it’s not something big, something that will change your bond or friendship, it’s just something that… you both needed? In those moments, you guess. Maybe mentally? However you try to justify it, the answer is always the same: nothing is going to change between you. It’s just sex. But for the sake of your relationship, you try to keep it where it belongs: in bed. Talking about such things outside can be confusing, it can lead your friendship too places you don’t want it to be. You love Jungkook, as your friend. Being too sexual won’t lead to good places, just a fucked up friendship and a fuckbuddy living with you.  So you both better keep your minds at bay, don’t pass the limits of friendship at least when you can.

«I’m going to get a shower» you announce, shutting the tv and getting up from the couch. His eyes are questioning, but you just tap his shoulder. 

«Put this away, please?» you hand the pop corns to Jungkook. He grabs the bag. 

«Why?» you’re already almost out of the living room when he asks.

«I’m going out tonight!» 

«With the girls?» he raises his voice a bit to make you hear him from the other room, as he looks for a peg in the drawer to close the popcorns.

«Yeah, it’s Eunji’s birthday!» you remind him. Jungkook winces, he knows what that means. You will come back home late, and you’ll end up being awake until morning cause you hate going to clubs and will feel like you have to make up for the six hours you lost in there. You still do it, for your friends, but it’s something that you don’t enjoy a lot. If you add the fact that you don’t actually drink, that makes it all even worse. 

«What about Jimin?» he’s out of your bedroom door, you can hear it from how close his voice sounds. Thank god he has a good sense of privacy, cause you’re naked. 

«They were together the whole day, tonight is girl’s night» you answer. Jungkook nods, telling himself he’s going to ask him to come over later.

«I’m taking a shower now!» you let him know the conversation is going to end, already walking to your bathroom.

«She said it’s girls’ night, so» Jimin’s munching on a chicken’s wing with so much eagerness it looks like he hasn’t been eating for a week. 

Namjoon nods at him, getting a beer from the fridge. 

«You’ve been together the whole day, though» 

«I know» he answers, «what can I do if I want to spend every second with her?»

«I feel like I’m gonna throw up» Yoongi murmurs from beside him, giving him the most disgusted glance ever. Jungkook laughs.

«What have you all been up to lately?» 

Hoseok sits on the carpet, ready to start eating as he waits for the group’s answer. 

Jin shrugs.

«Just work. The restaurant is always full, I think I might die from overworking»

«Listen to him bragging» Taehyung pats his hyung’s shoulder.

«I’m not! It’s going well, but it’s fucking tiring! Last night I came home to Hana and…  nnghh, why am I so dumb?» he closes his eyes, breathing through his teeth. 

«What happened?» Jungkook asks.

«She’d kill me if she knew I told you this,» he gulps a big sip of beer down «you have to promise me it won’t slip out of your dead-ass mouths»

«When did we ever say-»

«That time?» Yoongi’s question gets cut off, Jin’s eyes big as they remind him of what happened last time.

«It wasn’t me! It was Tae!» 

«Yah, I didn’t do it on purpose» he fights, holding back a laughter.

«Alright, stop. Just don’t make it happen again» Seokjin gives him a fiery glance.

«She was like, really in the mood and… I told her I would take a shower and then go to bed with her but my muscles were so sore I decided to run a bath. I felt asleep. She waited up for me for a whole hour,» he takes a bite from the chicken «she was… god, what did I do? I was so tired I didn’t do it on purpose but she felt rejected or humiliated I guess… I’m such a-»

«Hyung, you were just tired» Jungkook stops his rant. Namjoon nods.

«You should talk to her»

«I didn’t get the chance, she left earlier this morning and didn’t answer my texts all day» he answers, eyes gloomy as he pours himself another glass of beer. 

«Wait for her up, she’ll come back after they are done with the club» Yoongi proposes. Jin nods.

«What about you?» he asks.

«I’m good» he smiles. A little too much, actually. It’s too bright, too much. 

«You’re good?» Hoseok smiles at him, already knowing that there’s something else. There has to be, with him smiling like that.

«Really good» he echoes. 

At this point, Jin hits his shoulder.

«Yah, give us the good stuff!» 

The music in the background fills the air as Yoongi ponders on how to explain what’s happening in his life at the moment, a big smile taking over his features. 

«I’m…» he smiles again «I’m going to be a dad» 

«What?!» it’s a scream that comes out loud, the same word coming from every single person present. The man nods, eyes teary. It makes Jungkook’s heart squeeze, to see his hyung so happy. The room is filled with happiness, as they all proceed to ask questions, hugs and congratulations getting shared. After all, he and Hyunjoo have been trying for the last year. The night is filled just like that, with jokes and laughs until Jin and Jimin decide that it’s time to go back home to wait for their girlfriends, the others deciding to stay until you will be back to say hello and goodbye to Jungkook. 

It’s when the bell rings that they know that something is definitely weird. The knock on the door too sounds eager for you, and when Jungkook gets up to open it what they hear right after makes their eyes shoot right open.

«Fuck, are you drunk? Who took you home? Why did you drink?»

«Leave me alone» you stutter as you try to walk inside, Jungkook’s arm getting to your waist. You can’t even stand, how much did you drink? 

«Who took you home?» to say he sounds worried sick is an understatement.

«Some guy with a really pretty dick» you laugh. Taehyung gets up, everyone following after him. They never saw you drunk, simply because you just don’t drink. You don’t like the taste of alcohol, can’t even gulp down a sip of beer properly without having to go brush your teeth, apart from the fact that you can’t hold it. Half of a glass is enough to make you the drunkest version of yourself; apparently now it’s not like that anymore.

«What?» the shock from seeing you like this makes Jungkook hold his words back, first he needs to make you sit somewhere.

«Grab a wet towel, or just… water, give me water!» he orders around. Someone gives him just what he asked for, and he doesnt even spend time in thanking them as he wipes the makeup off from your face. 

«Water» Yoongi gives him a glass.

«Why- you’re here! Hello!» you wave to your friends, Taehyung smiling at you. 

«My bestest friend! Tae, I missed you» you whine, grabby hands reach for his wrist, making him sit next to you.

«Yah! I’m your bestest friend!» Jungkook shakes his head.

«I missed you too» Taehyung scoffs, your head falling on his shoulder. Jungkook hisses, it’s harder to get your makeup off when half of your face is squashed like this.

«Why did you drink so much?» Taehyung tries.

«I was… feeling left out? I can’t remeber well» you murmur, chuckles coming out as you decide it’s time to mess with Jungkook. Every time he tries to wipe a part of your face, you just turn in the opposite direction.

«Will you stay still?» he shakes his head, annoyed.

«You’re a pain in the ass, Jungkook. I hate you»

«I think it’s better if you go home, she needs a shower» Jungkook turns to face Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok. They look pretty shocked, but worry is weighting down on them more.

«Are you sure? We can help you?» Hoseok tries, but he shakes his head again.

«It’s fine, I got this» 

«Don’t go! Why are you kicking them out! So annoying» you fight, holding Taehyung’s arm tighter.

«I’m not kicking them out, but you need to shower and get changed and they- just…» he turns again «Don’t worry, just go home and rest. I got this» he repeats.

It’s 5.43 am. And it’s so frustrating that you’re laying by his side, sleeping, while his eyes are wide open. 

You might not feel good, so it’s better anyway, he tells himself.

Jungkook is annoyed. A lot, actually. Why, he doesn’t get it. Your words echo in his mind, making him bite on the inside of his cheek when he should be resting.

Did you sleep with someone? It very much sounded like it. A really pretty dick? He scoffs. The adjective sounds almost out of place, still he feels his insides burning even hotter. He wants to ask you right now, but you’re sleeping. Again, he should be too, actually. 

He decides it’s better if he sleeps on the sofa, you’re asleep anyway, so you won’t make a fuss about it. He lifts the covers, gently and slowly, then sits on the bed, a leg already out and his foot laying on the ground. The cold makes him wince.

«Don’t go» you hold his wrist, digits caressing his skin. 

«Stay with me,» you plead «I’m not feeling good» 

His defences fall down instantly. It’s hard not to succumb when you’re murmuring against him. He does it without you having to ask twice, his foot back under the warm covers.

«Hold me?» you ask. It’s low, sweet and sleepy, and he guesses you’re still drunk but he doesn’t care. His arms wrap around you and hold you close, your head lays on his chest as you would do after having sex. Jungkook holds his breath and swears to himself, he needs to slow down his heartbeat because it seems like his heart is going to combust. 

«I don’t hate you,» your voice is faint

«I’m sorry I told you I hate you, Kookie»

«It’s okay» he caresses your hair, trying to make you relax.

«Just get some sleep» he can’t hold himself back, not when you’re laying in his arms so defenceless and looking so frail and delicate. His lips land on your forehead, soft and gentle, incredibly caring. You don’t say anything though, you’re already asleep.

«Alright, what is it?» Taehyung snaps at him, eyes fixed on the maknae. Jin nods, eyebrows high.

«Nothing» Jungkook shrugs, going back to stare at the screen. The movie isn’t playing, stopped by Taehyung. 

«It doesn’t seem like nothing» he answers back. 

Yoongi taps Jungkook’s shoulder.

«Tell it to Yoongi hyung?» he smiles. 

Jungkook scoffs. It’s something he used to tell him when he was younger, it would reassure him to know that there was someone older than him to relay on and to count on. Now, though, Yoongi can’t do anything about it.

«I’m your hyung too» Taehyung pats his other shoulder.

«Me too» Jimin adds.

«We’re all older, we got it» Namjoon looks at the two who are smiling wide at Jungkook.

«Talk to us? We could help» he prompts. 

«I just… I don’t know» he doesn’t know where to start from. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling so bothered about it, it shouldn’t be such a big deal.

«I don’t know… why?»

«What? We can’t understand like this» the confusion is clear on Hoseok’s features.

Jungkook sighs, deep and shaky, head falling on the cushion of the couch.

«I’ve been sleeping with someone» he declares, bringing the back of his hand on his eyes. 

«What?» it’s Jimin and Jin, ready to ask why he didn’t tell them. Yoongi glares at them in a second, shutting them up before they even have the chance to start.

«And?» he coos.

«And- she… slept with someone else» he adds. It’s blurry, and the situation is not clear, but just seeing Jungkook like this makes all of them on the edge.

«Are you in a relationship? Or you just-»

«We’re not» he answers Namjoon.

«We’re not, but…» he doesn’t finish. 

He can’t believe himself. What the hell is this about? It’s not like you agreed on being exclusive, you didn’t even talk too much about what happened, it just happened, three fucking times. And god, how fucking good it was. The best sex he’s ever had. Fuck, he didn’t even think about someone else after sleeping with you. 

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest of choices since he’s been fighting against his feelings for six years, but until now they were pretty good. He dated, you dated, he kept them at bay and they didn’t get in the way. 

«You wish you were» Yoongi finishes his sentence.

Silence fills the air. Jungkook feels like he’s going to throw up. You wish you were, it’s the only thing playing in his head. He wishes you were. That’s the point, that’s the fucking point. He wishes you’d see in him what he’s been seeing in you for all these years, he wishes you’d crave his touch just like he craves yours, in the same way. He wishes you could share more than just a home and bills, friendship and bags of popcorns. He wishes for more, and fuck, he’s been so fucking stupid all along to think that a little taste couldn’t do too bad, to think that he could have at least that much.

«Have you talked to her?» Jin tries. Jungkook shakes his head, the back of his hand still pressed against his eyes.

«Why don’t you try?»

«Why would I? We’re friends»

«Fuckbuddies?» Jimin asks «How can you be-» Taehyung slaps him on the neck. A faint moan coming out of his friend’s lips.

«Shut up»

«No, friends. We’re friends» he slightly raises his voice on the last word, to make it clear. 

Yoongi’s eyes narrow.

«You mean you… you’ve been sleeping together but you’re friends?» 

«Isn’t it clear?» Jin looks at him like Yoongi has two heads, eyes trying to suggest something that no one gets. His head moves as to beckon him to something that’s right in front of him, Yoongi’s expression still clueless. Then, he gets it.

«Y/n! Is it Y/n? What the hell Jungkook!» he breaks out. Everyone’s eyes shot right open, Jungkook’s hand falling on his lap as he realises that there’s no way back. 

«When? Why?»

«It just… happened» he sighs, eyes closing again. 

«When?» Taehyung can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

«Four months ago,» he murmurs «the first time»

«How many times? Oh, my god» Jin wants to know everything, every little detail. Not sexually, it would be awkward since you’re his friend, but every thing he can, he has to know.

«Three» 

«Three?» He repeats.

«Three times,» Jungkook says again «I don’t know what to-»

«Is it because of the guy with the pretty dick?» Yoongi asks. Jungkook tilts his head, glaring at his hyung. 

«Okay, it is»

«Talk to her» Hoseok prompts but he only gets a big, steady shake of the maknae’s head.

«She was drunk. Do you know what you’re doing? Like, have you talked about it at least? Are you exclusive with each other?»

«We didn’t, and I guess we’re not» Jungkook answers Jin, not really in the mood for all of his questions.

«Jungkook, you have to-»

His phone rings, cutting Hoseok off. Your name comes up on the screen, everyone’s eyes and ears ready to steal information, Jungkook’s thumb stopping before hitting the green icon. He takes a deep breath, then answers. 

«What-»

«Jungkook, please help me» 

Something inside him snaps, worry filling every part of his being. Your voice is shaky, fragile. It sounds like you’re crying.

«What, what happened? Where are you?»

«At home,» you whimper «I’m in the tub. I slipped and, I can’t move. It hurts» 

«Fuck, wait I’ll be there in five minutes. Stay on the phone, don’t move. Please, don’t move, okay?» he’s already on the way to the door of Taehyung’s house, their eyes fixed on him in worry. He waves goodbye before closing the door, mouthing “emergency” at their inspecting eyes.

«Fuck, are you okay?» 

To say he’s worried sick is an understatement. His eyes travel to every part of your body to make sure that you’re not hurt, until they reach your arms covering your chest. 

«Don’t look! Give me the bathrobe» you want to cry, you feel so embarrassed that you actually could. 

«Yes!» he passes it to you quickly, helping you as best as he can with his face turned to the side. He wants to tell you that it doesn’t matter if he sees you like this cause it already happened but he guesses you might feel embarrassed or just not at ease, so he shuts up and does what he has to. 

«It’s fine, I…» your voice trembles. You hold his wrist on the side of the tub, fingers cold and wet. 

«It’s fine, it’s alright. Ssshh, don’t cry» he kneels down, his arms wrapping around you and leading your head to his chest. 

«I’m not crying» you whisper, gulping down.

«You’re about to,» he caresses your hair «I’m here. I got you» he feels his throat tightening. He was so fucking worried he run two red lights while coming home, all the ones he met. 

«I always got you» he coos. 

For some reason, his words make you shake in his hold, a faint whimper coming out as you let the tears fall. The embarrassment and the stress about the situation, the pain of your ankle and his presence seem to mix together to combine into a perfect crying solution.

«You won’t tease me about this, right?» you mumble, voice muffled. Jungkook’s heart feels slightly reassured at your words, a weak smile gracing his lips.

«I won’t, baby. I promise» he whispers.

Your faint sobs fill the air, and he feels like his poor heart will break only by listening. His fingertips dig into your bathrobe so much it’s like you feel them on your skin, his other hand caresses your hair, his breath shaky. 

He waits for your weeps to summer down and stays like this a little longer, his presence reassuring and his touch relaxing you.

«Let’s get you out of here, okay?» he asks. You nod. He’s gentle when he parts his arms from around you, gentle when he tells you to relax, gentle when he smiles at you, soothing. 

«Where does it hurt?» 

«My ankle» you let him know. His eyes travel down, hands getting wet in the water as he lightly feels both of them. 

«There» you hold back your breath, the pain makes you grimace.

«Okay, just… can you get up? Just lean on me and don’t put weight on your right leg. Lean on me» he instructs. You follow his words and try to get up as best as you can, leaning your weight on him and keeping your ankle up. Jungkook helps you out of the bathtub, his hands coming to your back and the back of your legs to pick you up. He makes sure not to hurt your ankle with any movement, eyes on your face to check in with you without having to ask.

The path to your bedroom is silent, he lays you on your bed and tells you he will change the sheets himself afterwards because of the wet bathrobe. 

«I think you need a pillow, you need to keep your ankle up» he works diligently, worry guiding him until he realises you’re set. On the bed, with the pillow underneath your ankle, comfortable, kind of.

«Do you want ice? Wait, I’ll get it with something to drink» he lets you know. He vanishes out of your bedroom and into the kitchen to get a glass of water and the ice, then goes back to the bathroom to get a towel to wrap around it so it isn’t too cold.

When he comes back, he smiles at you.

«You need to drink at least a bit» he hands you the glass. He sits next to you, looks as you gulp down the entire glass with a proud smile, his hand reaching out to take the glass back and put it on your nightstand. You stay with your mouth closed, still too embarrassed to say anything.

He puts the ice on your ankle, careful not to hurt you more than what you’re hurting already. It’s an instinct he doesn’t think of or can fight back, when he strokes your hair tenderly. It makes you gulp, heart swelling in your chest. 

«I was so fucking scared» he admits, low and shaky, almost a whisper.

«I’m sorry» you really are. He was enjoying his night with your friends after a hard week of work, and you called him and made him come all the way home, worried and-

«It’s okay, don’t worry» he smiles.

«But we should go to the hospital, your ankle is a bit swollen and-»

«Not now, please» you refuse.

«Y/n, you really should»

«I know,» you nod «just please not now? In a bit» 

Jungkook sighs, but he nods. He keeps the ice on your ankle, eyes on your face to check if he’s hurting you in any way to the point you feel your ears burn. 

«Come here?» you ask, patting beside you. He raises his eyebrows, looking at your hand on the mattress. 

«Please?» you ask sweetly. 

«The ice» he says. You shake your head.

«Just for a little, please» you gulp your beating heart down. You want him close, closer and closer. You don’t know why, but you want him so close it’s getting hard to breathe.

Jungkook can’t say no to you, not when you’re in your most fragile state, telling him to lay beside you. He puts the ice on the nightstand, next to the empty glass. 

When he lays on his side, his eyes instantly fall on your face, a bit of worry still painting his features.

Your hands move on their own, reaching his and bringing them around you. 

The atmosphere is dreamy like, a pinkish feeling invading Jungkook���s chest as he stares at you, his arms squeezing you and your eyes getting lost in his. It’s odd, how you can feel you heart pulsate, the sound echoes in your ears until they become numb. His hold seems to calm your racing mind a bit and you find yourself craving for something you can’t really touch, get a grasp of.

«Jungkook» you call. 

«Mmh?» 

«I want you» 

Jungkook feels like a leaf about to fall. Swept away by the wind, scared to fall but what if the fall is so sweet, so gentle? What if he can’t say no? He wants you just as bad as he wants you to want him. He wants you sweetly, he wants you lovingly. He wants you. Every part, every shiver, every fear and every night. Every fucking night. If he can’t have that, he’ll have to settle for this at least. He can’t say no to your love. And now that he realises, he thinks, this is the last time. The first time loving you and the last. 

«Fuck, come» he holds you tighter.

«Come into my arms» as if you weren’t already. He stays like that, seconds passing by and his breath getting rougher, he tries to  slow down his heartbeat but it’s to no use, you probably can feel it even through your bathrobe and his clothes. He wonders what are you thinking, if you want him as bad as he wants you at least sexually. It makes him breathless, how much he wishes you were his.

«I need-» he gulps «I need you close»

His body moves on top of yours, his legs in the middle of your thighs, eyes glancing at your ankle to make sure he doesn’t hurt you with his movements. It kills you, how he takes his shirt off and the light of your room kisses every single inch of his abdomen. His beautiful skin, the muscles flexing as he removes the cloth, his brownish nipples hard at the cold hair. You want to lick it, every part of him. You want to touch it, chase every ripple with your fingertips. 

«Can I take this off?» he asks. 

When you meet his gaze his eyes are made of something you’ve never seen. It’s not want or need, you’ve seen those already the other times you had sex, it’s just something else that you can’t quite grasp; you don’t focus on it too much, nodding your head and reaching you hands for the knot of the bathrobe. 

«Wait, let me» his fingers graze yours. You stop your ministrations, watching as he unties the knot, slow. There’s something. There’s definitely something. When he took your clothes off the last time, there was eagerness in his motions. There was need.

He was scared, of course he was. You guess that now he’s just glad you’re okay and trying to not hurt you in any way. You’re glad. Glad that he takes such good care of you, glad to have him as your friend. 

«Thank you» you smile. Jungkook feels his heart clench. He wishes your relationship wouldn’t be like this, for you not to thank him with that smile so uninvolved, so clear. 

He nods, hands getting by your sides to not put any weight on you.

«Keep your ankle up, please. Don’t wanna hurt you» he says. You nod, again.

His bicep flexes as he puts his weight only on his left arm, his fingers of the other caressing your clavicle. He sees the shivers on your skin as he travels lower, grabbing the edge of the bathrobe to reveal your chest. He wants to squeeze you, squeeze you so tight you don’t have any space left between you, hearts beating against each other. 

Your skin glistens, and he can’t hold himself back anymore. He raises on his calves, opens your robe so that every part of you is revealed, takes off his pants and his socks. His cock is hard, so fucking hard he’s afraid he’ll come just by the sight of you, but he wants to hold back. He has to, cause he wants to do this right, in the right way. He wants to love you even if you don’t notice it, at least for once. 

«Sit up for me, princess» his tone is like honey, and you do as he says without complaining. The pet name leaves a weird taste in your ears, you’re not used to it.

He helps you out of the bathrobe, finally having you naked on the bed. So pretty, so exposed just for him. Something inside him doesn’t set right, though. 

«Hold tight onto me» 

You’re in his arms, getting up from the bed and out of your bedroom. You wander what the hell is he doing until you get to his bedroom, confusion invading your features.

«Why?» 

He lays you on his bed, getting a pillow again so that you can keep your ankle elevated.

He looks down at you from the end of the bad, cock twitching and eyes fixed into yours. He wonders if it was too much of a bold move, but he guesses you wouldn’t see anything behind it. 

«Want you in my bed» he simply answers, transparent and straight to the point, his dark doe eyes drinking yours in. 

You just nod a little astonished. 

Of all the times you had sex, it was always in your bed. Never in his. Never your perfume stayed on his sheets, never he got to swim in the illusion of having at least a little more to keep to himself, just for him. A part of you to keep, to protect in a world that isn’t yours. 

He takes his boxers off, and god you wish he could be faster cause you think your eagerness will make you lose your mind. You want him deep inside you, close as soon as possible.

«Open your legs for me?» he coos. He looks at you from the edge of the bed, still standing. Your eyes travel all the way from his face to his cock, it stands straight up to his belly button, the tip red and angry, veins displayed. If you’re not seeing wrong, there’s a bit of precum leaking out from his tip, but maybe it’s just the light playing with your eyesight. 

You do as he says, opening your legs as much as you can for him to see, careful with your ankle. He bites down on his lips, his hand getting to the base of his cock and wrapping around it, just squeezing it.

«I love your pussy» he breathes out. The way he sounds makes you clench around nothing and when you see his hand stroke up and down his needy cock your mouth opens in awe. 

«I’m obsessed, want it every day» 

You squeeze your thighs together, how can he speak so filthy but sound so angelic?

«That can’t happen» you warn him. 

Jungkook nods.

«I know» he answers. It kills him. It fucking kills him, to have a taste and then having to let go of it. 

He gets to the bed, kneeling in front of you, his eyes on your face. 

«I want you on my tongue» 

Your yearning is making you crazy, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping by now.

«Please, Jungkook» 

It sounds so good, to hear you say his name like that. In such a filthy way, totally unfiltered. 

«Gonna give my baby what she needs»

His hands touch your thighs, he gropes your skin with his digits, so soft it makes him want to fucking lose himself and get lost just in the desire. His sentence makes you wetter, but your heart beats louder for some type of reason. 

«Please» you plead again. 

«I got you» he reassure you, he lays down on your body, face close to yours. His lips are close, so close you think he’s going to kiss you but he just lays a kiss on the corner of your mouth. 

«I always got you» he whispers, his eyes looking into yours. His hand caresses your cheek, something that adds too much to this, to you, to the both of you. It leaves you wordless, shaking.

A second later, he’s back between your legs,  his hands grabbing your thighs in the gentlest way he ever did. 

«So beautiful» he murmurs to himself as he looks at your pussy juices leaking out. It’s so fucking inviting that he can’t hold back anymore. His mouth lands on your clit, so soft and pillowy, he kisses it. A strangled moan comes out of your mouth, and he lays another, and another. His tongue starts to glide between your lips, up and down he gathers your juices and then sucks onto your clit, your back arching on the bed.

«Oh, fuck» you moan. It makes him eager. Eager for more, eager for you, ciclo by fervent. He wants it all.

He sucks on your clit again, harder and for a time that seems endless, the pleasure that takes over you is tingling and consuming and your mouth opens again in a silent moan. He lets it go with a popping sound, he blows on it, kisses it again, sucks again as his tongue plays with it. Your hands reach his hair, they tug at the strands as you moan out loud. It’s so good, so good you’re not going to last long.

«So good» your hips shoot up, whines come out of your mouth.

He feels drunk, lost in the taste of you.

«Yeah?» he coos. His tongue rubs your clit deliciously, the pattern changing from up and down to side to side and circles, it makes you lose your mind. 

«What if I do this? Take all of you in my mouth?» 

It’s unreal, how good he can make you feel. He takes you all in his mouth, from your clit to your hole, sucking on every part he manages to get, then sucks on your lips. His hands move on your stomach, eyes on your face as he grabs your breasts in his palms. He squeezes them softly, fingers rubbing your nipples, filthy wet sounds filling the air. It’s embarrassing, the amount of wetness through your folds, how your juices keep leaking out at just a look at him. You don’t think you can hold back. Not when he’s sucking on your clit again, his fingers grazing your nipples as he moans on it in his mouth. He doesn’t think he can get any other pussy, after yours. It’s too good, it’s perfect. Just perfect.

«Gonna- Jungkook» you shiver.

«Tell me, talk to me, baby» he moans on your pussy, his tongue poking at your hole. 

«Fuck, I think I’m going to- cum» 

His tongue feels so good inside you, your walls tight around it and your juices wetting all of his chin. He wants your wetness everywhere, on his chest, on his thighs, on his fucking bed. 

«Please, let me see» he begs. 

«Cum for me» 

One of his hands come down, his fingers rubbing your clit. You don’t have the time nor the voice to tell him that you’re going to, cause god, it feels so fucking good you don’t even know how to speak anymore. You just see him, his eyes staring at you from between your legs, nose brushing against your folds, his tongue deep inside you. Your legs shake, your breathing is rough.

«Cum for me, angel» 

And you do. You cum so fucking hard, you don’t even realise what is happening, how your juices flow out and drip onto his sheets,  how Jungkook presses down onto the mattress to get some sort of friction, how he gulps down your juices as if they were the tastiest thing he ever drank. 

He kisses your clit, your lips, every part of your pussy he can get a taste of, your inner thighs.

«Fuck, I only want your pussy» he moans, the fingers that left your aching clit now wrapping around his thickness, your juices on his cock make his skin glossy. You’re such in a haze that yes, you nod.

«Fuck, yes» you sigh. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of you, he simply can’t. You’re so beautiful, so pretty when you’re so vulnerable and exposed for him that you make him helpless, totally fragile.

«You’re so beautiful, so pretty when you cum» his voice makes you open your eyes, finding him still between your legs. 

«Come here» you struggle to let your voice out. 

«Want you close» 

His heart shakes. 

«Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you» he breathes out, laying on top of you. His voice is shaky and you feel his hands travel from your thighs to your stomach, then to your chest. They reach your shoulders, one of them cups your cheek, his eyes study every part of your face. He looks at the flush of your cheeks, how they turned to a reddish tone, your lips swollen from your teeth biting at them, your hair messy all over his pillows. In his bed, his at least for now.

«I want you, only want you» you whine. 

«You have me» he wishes you could notice, that you’d realise, look at him and mean your words just how he means them. He just rubs his cock against your folds, though.

«Right here» he moans. Cock rock hard, so fucking ready for you. 

«Please» you just keep pleading, you can’t hold back. You don’t even care if you just came and your pussy needs time to recover from the tremendous orgasm you just had, you just want him inside you. 

His cockhead brushes against your clit, a strangled moan coming out from both of your throats, your eyes focusing on his just to see that’s they were already there. Jungkook smiles at you so softly as his cockhead finds your hole and pushes in that it feels too much. Too much affection, to much loving. Too lovingly. It makes your insides twist and turn, and you wonder what the fuck is going on, but you don’t have time to voice your feelings cause a second later his cock is deep inside you, filling you up to the brim.

You just shut your mouth, take everything he has to give. You want it all, you don’t care.

«Fucking perfect» he whines. His cock never felt so good, your walls squeeze him perfectly, your pussy so wet he can feel your juices already pour down to his balls.

«Wrap around me,» he moans faintly «please»

Your legs move on their own, the pain of your ankle shooting up to your leg. You grimace, eyes squeezed shut.

«Careful with your leg» the worry makes him still.

«Lay it on the pillow, up» he whispers, his hand reaching your calf to guide it back down. 

«Like this» he kisses your temple. You sigh when you feel the softness of the pillow and your weight supported, the pain untying a bit.

«Does it hurt?» his words soothe you and you open your eyes to look at his face. You shake your head.

«It was just for the movement. It’s going away now» you answer. Jungkook nods, his fingers brush away a little strand of hair that’s keeping your beautiful face away from him.

«Like this it’s good, is it okay for you?» he asks. His hand holds your hip, your leg wrapped around him, the other on the cushion and Jungkook’s cock buried deep inside you still. You can feel it throb even when it’s still, you wonder how is it possible that he’s holding himself back so much.

«It’s perfect» you whisper. His eyes, smile first, as they always do. His smile comes right after, and you don’t know if it’s the atmosphere or your vulnerability for everything that happened but it makes your heart swell. You want him around you, you want him everywhere, all over you, inside of you.

He looks down at you, moves his pelvis back and then forward again, you wrap your leg tighter around his waist. Your arms come around him, his passes under your back as the other stays on your hip, his cock rutting inside you makes you whimper. He kisses your neck, sucks on your skin, moans in your ears. 

«Love it so much,» he shivers, eyes closing from the pleasure «getting to have you like this» 

«Feels so good, Kook» you whine.

Jungkook fucks into you slow, but his motions are firm and he knows exactly where your buttons are. Apparently, it didn’t take much for him to learn, it seems like he knew them all along, from the first time. 

«Yeah?» he coos, his digits dig into your skin.

«Yes» you moan out loud, only guiding him closer. His cock is perfect. You love it, could never imagine a better dick. 

«Tell me, baby. Wanna hear you» he doesn’t stop, only squeezes you tighter. Your breasts against his hard chest, your nipples brushing against his skin, every curve of your body against his.

«Your cock is so perfect» you tell him. He wants to look down to where he’s inside of you but doesn’t want to miss a single thing, not even a crumb of the pleasure taking up your features.

«I love it so much, the best cock ever» your voice is muffled and your fist comes out from behind his neck to press against your lips as you speak. 

«Please don’t» he whines, looking down at you. 

«Wanna hear you, don’t hold back» 

Your fist goes away. Your fingers dig into his skin again, surrendering to his request and letting your voice come out free. 

Jungkook makes love to you. It’s so sweet and so slow but so good that you’re lost. Lost in him, lost in the feeling and the pleasure. 

«Keep your leg up» he instructs, letting your hip out of his grasp. He kisses your nose, his hand travels between your legs, his middle finger on your clit. 

«Oh, Jungkook, fuck» you wail, the pleasure adding up. He moves his finger in circles, up and down, from side to side, just like he did with his tongue before. It makes him jerk inside you, throb with every thrust, bite down on his lips as he looks at your face and feel your walls clench around him. Your mouth opens, eyes looking at him through your lashes, pillowy lips ready to be kissed. 

«I want to make you feel so good,» he groans, «want you to think about this when you’re alone» he moans. 

«I want you to give it to me, all to me. Mine» he whispers onto your lips, breath hot on your face.

«All mine» 

«Fuck, yes»

Your walls are so tight, pulsating so hard. 

His finger keeps rubbing your clit, he moans when he brings it a bit lower, feeling his cock pounding inside your pussy, your pussylips spread around him, your wetness gathering at the base of his cock. His balls slap on your ass, the sounds filthy and wet, so incredibly wet.

«I’m going to- yes, feels so good» you breathe hard, his finger back on your clit rubbing faster. Your legs shake and you feel his cock dripping precum in your cunt, all of his length pulsating. 

«I want you to look at me when you cum,» he pleads, tone shaky «please look at me» he whines. If you weren’t on the edge already, you think you would probably be just by the way he sounds. He’s so sexy you think you won’t ever be able to get over this. You’re going to think about this for sure, hell if you’re going to.

«Kook, I- I…»

«Ssh, let go. Just let go and look at me» he coos sweetly. He’s holding back, he’s trying so fucking much to hold back that his cock is over sensitive and he doesn’t think he will last much longer. Your walls squeeze him perfectly, so fucking soft and warm around him, so wet, so beautiful. 

«Give it to me, love» he doesn’t notice, not until he says it. It just slips out, naturally. You don’t say anything, head burying deeper in his pillow and your walls tightening around him.

You come all over his cock. Your juices make it harder for him to control his pace as you contract sp tightly all over him, his cock still moving inside of you, your arms wrapped around him. You’re trembling but you still find the strength to cup his cheeks, eyes looking at him for all the time just like he asked you to. You watch him as he moans, fucking into you with the same pace, his cock so hard. One of your hands travel down, between your bodies and down to his cock, his tight balls in your hand. You cup them, massage them a little. Jungkook’s features grimace, a loud whiny moan filling the air as your fingers on his cheek caress his skin.

«So beautiful. Cum for me, please» you plead. His heart beats so loud it’s going to explode, and a second later he’s shooting his cum right deep inside of you, hot, thick and long spurts of cum filling you up to the brim. His lips touch yours, as he keeps cuming. They brush against each other and a second later he’s succumbing to them, moaning into your mouth as his hips fuck his cum into your pussy, your leg still keeping him close and you fingers on his cheek. 

The kiss is slow and not really controlled, his tongue touches yours and brushes it, your lips eager for each other but moving slowly. It kills him, the way you wrap your arm around him to bring him closer as if he wasn’t all shattered into pieces already. 

You kiss for long, he still fucks himself into you slowly even after coming down from his high, your body still tight to him. When you part, you feel your chest on fire. His eyes look glossy, his lips red and wet, his baby hair sticking to his forehead. His movements stop, the last trace of a kiss on your clavicle right where it all started, and then he comes out of you. He lays beside you, eyes staring at your face. Silence fills the air, your breaths the only thing audible.

«Kook» you call.

«Yes?» he hums.

«I need another shower» you laugh.

The atmosphere is odd. It’s thick. You want to go out of your bedroom and ask him what is going on exactly but for some type of reason, you’re holding back. There’s just something in the air.

Last week has been weird. 

You would come home when Jungkook was already there to find the dinner on the table, covered with a plate so it wouldn’t get cold, some days with a post it. 

I already ate, I’m going to bed, I’m a little tired.

I’m going out, but I cooked you dinner. Rest well.

Work was hard today, I’m going to sleep.

Since the two years you’ve been living together, you’ve always made sure that the one coming home later had something to eat, without having to cook when you’re both too tired. You do it for him too, when he comes home late. That’s what you did on Thursday and Friday, but when he came home you weren’t expecting him to literally eat and go to bed after putting his dish in the sink. 

The dinner was odd too, he made small talk, but there was something that didn’t feel right, as if it was a bit awkward. When you both stayed home on the weekend your friends filled the place on Saturday, and on Sunday, he just spent the day in his bedroom beside coming out to make lunch and dinner together.

You knocked on his door once or twice, asked him if he wanted to watch a movie or just chill together, but he said he was tired.

Something is off. Maybe he’s really tired, at dinner today he mentioned that work has been hard lately. 

You start to wonder if you should be worried. If Jungkook is stressed and needs someone to talk too, if you’re being just a shitty friend and shouldn’t give him all this space, if you should grab him by the shoulders and tell him to talk to you about what is going on. He doesn’t seem to have closed up with your friends though, on five days he spent three evenings at their place this week. Maybe it’s just you seeing things.

You should talk to him, cause you’re worried, and you miss him. You miss your friend.

«Jimin’s on his way too» Eunji announces, grabbing a pile of glasses. She places one for each of you on the table, then takes a look around.

«I think everything’s set?»

You nod, Hana and Jin appearing by your side with the side dishes. 

«Let’s put them on the table» Jin grabs six of them all together.

«Yah, don’t order us around. This is my house, not your restaurant» Yoongi slaps his hyung on the ass, his friend glaring at him. Hyunjoo shakes his head at the scene in front of her, her belly has just started to grow, three months into pregnancy. She looks so beautiful and happy that your heart throbs in happiness.

«Where are Namjoon and Jungkook?» she asks. 

«Namjoon will be here in ten» Hoseok answers.

«I’ll call Jungkook» you announce.

You’re about to go to get your purse, but the door rings, so you wander towards it. Jungkook stands behind it, soft hair reaching almost his shoulders, his bangs framing his pretty face. His eyes stare directly into yours, eyebrows cocked. 

«Oh, you’re here?» he asks, as if he wasn’t expecting it. He stays still on the doorway, hands by his sides. 

«Yes?» you smile as best as you can, not really knowing what to do.

«Everyone is here» you remind him. Jungkook nods eagerly.

«I know» he nods again. You move to the side to let him in. 

«I was about to call you» you say. He takes his coat off, hanging it with the others.

«I was stuck in traffic,» he shrugs «I thought it was the same for you, since you worked late too today» 

«Oh, no. I left earlier» he nods. And then, it’s silent again. You just stare at each other.

He doesn’t know. How to do this properly, how to go back to who he was, the friend you had before he realised it was too much to hold back. Every time he looks at you, it’s too much. He feels like you’re taking all the oxygen, leaving him with the smallest amount and not able to breathe properly. He tried. He really tried. He told himself that yes, it can be fixed. He repeats it to himself everyday, but something just makes him stop. He’s too… he guesses he just needs space. To get over you, to learn how to look at you differently, just like before he knew, when he was younger. Maybe he won’t ever be able to go back at that point, but at least to when it was bearable to look at you from afar and just have a small part of you? 

«Jungkookah!» Teahyung yells from the kitchen. Yoongi peeks out from the living room, he smiles brightly at his youngest friend, his arm wrapping around his shoulders. 

«Leave him alone, he just got here» he yells back at Taehyung. In a bunch of minutes, everyone is gathered in the living room, sitting on the carpet and ready to have dinner. It’s been a while since you all gathered to have dinner together, and the atmosphere is light. Everyone is laughing at something, new jokes being made and happiness shared. It makes you appreciate what you have, how every single person in this room means something to you, something beautiful. You’re lucky, very so.

But as you go on, you can’t help but go back to your old habits. Searching for Jungkook’s smile in the midst of the laughters, look for his eyes when you start to talk about something that happened to you during the day. You find him nodding at someone, eyes going back to his dish when you speak. And you can’t help but feel in the wrong. He’s mad at you, maybe you did something to make him upset, something that apparently is very much important to him. This has to be the reason why.

You realise how much you value him. His thoughts, his words, the way he makes you feel like there’s someone you can lean on, someone who’s got you. You realise how easy it is to enjoy his company, to feel happy thanks to him, to feel loved. And how cold it is without him, lost. 

You’ve always been inseparable, since you were sixteen and he was nineteen. Your pieces fixed together so perfectly that you didn’t have to worry about fighting with each other, cause you both knew that nothing was going to change between you. You went through so many things together that you can’t even remember all of them clearly now. He’s your safe place. And even though you know that this is perfectly fixable and actually nothing too dramatic, you just feel lost without his complicity. 

«Y/n?» Hyunjoo shakes his hand in front of your face, her striking smile brings you out of your thoughts. You nod.

«Oh, yes I’m listening»

«You don’t know what you’re doing» Namjoon’s hand falls on Jungkook’s thigh, lightly slapping it. He shrinks on his side of the sofa, eyes shutting down.

«I know» he whines.

«That’s at least something» the hyung scoffs. 

«Did you talk?»

«No» he lets out. If it wasn’t already clear enough, Jungkook is in very much need of advices.

«We just…»

«What?»

«We don’t speak-» he stops to gulp «like we used to»

Namjoon can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

«What? Why?»

«Cause we simply don’t, it’s complicated»

«It really isn’t» he fights back, slapping his hand on his thigh for a second time.

«Why?»

Jungkook sighs. 

«I just… I think I need time to- get over her or whatever this is, I-»

«You have to talk to her, Jungkook,» he shakes his head, unbelievable «if you don’t, she’ll think there’s something wrong. You have to be clear and-»

«I can’t» he bites down on his lips, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. Sleep is getting to him and the fact that tonight he didn’t sleep well makes it even worse.

«I can’t tell her»

«It’s worse if you don’t! Your friendship is not going to be fixed magically» 

«That’s the reason why I need time» he blubbers. 

«And the reason why she’s looking so gloomy» Namjoon’s response dejects him even more.

«I know I’m being a dick,» he stares down at his feet in the slippers «but I can’t lose her»

Silence is the answer that accompanies him. The cheers coming from inside the room sound muffled, the light of the moon softly grazing his skin. Just the thought of you not by his side sends a shiver of fear through his spine. He doesn’t want to get to know what it is like to be without you, he can’t.

«Don’t you think that maybe a part of her… at least a small one-»

«No,» his voice is faint «not a small one, not even a bit» 

It stings. So fucking much, it burns. 

Namjoon sees it clearly, the pain written all over his features. To be truthful, he’s always noticed it, even when Jungkook didn’t know. He saw the way he looked at you, his smile when someone mentioned you, the way he would talk about you or what happened to you the day before, the way you made him laugh while doing the dishes, how he was ready to put you first, even before him. It actually makes it hard for him to understand, how it took all this time for Jungkook to realise. 

«Even when you were- like intimate?» 

Jungkook’s eyes shoot right to his hyung’s face. He always tries not to think about that, for as much as he can. Even though, some nights your hands on his skin haunt him, your moans in his ears, your taste on his lips.

«I don’t think so» 

«Did you kiss? Like, or I don’t know, was like- two friends having sex or- what was it like?» 

Jungkook wishes he didn’t ask. Cause bringing the thought of you looking so vulnerable and ready for him in his arms sends back feelings he tried so hard to hold back in the last two weeks. 

«It was…» he takes a deep breath, letting the air out from his mouth.

«Consuming» his breath gets stuck in his throat.

«We were just…» he shakes his head «it wouldn’t be the same for her. I loved it in a different way»

«Maybe,» Namjoon pats his shoulder gently «but how was she? Like, was she like the 

Y/n you always hang out with? Like- you know, how awkward it can be when two friends fuck, come on» he chuckles lightly, not really wanting to be explicit about the two of his best friends.

«She was sweet. Like, so sweet. The last time, she…» he closes his eyes, munching on his lips. The scene playing in his mind leaves him in agony, it’s pure torture to remember you in such a crude state, all for him.

«She was in pain. When she called and we were at Taehyung’s place-»

«That night?» Namjoon’s eyes shoot wide open, mouth hanging as the youngest nods.

«She was in pain, she hurt her ankle. But the way she looked at me, kept me close… the way she opened up to me just- it kills me to remember her in that way» he sniffs. His eyes are glossy. He wishes there would be a better way, an answer written somewhere, a safe recipe to follow. 

His friend understands that he can’t ask more. Jungkook is in pain. And he wishes he could do something about it, even though he knows he can’t. So he just hugs him, his hand patting the youngest head to comfort him at least a bit. 

«Jungkook!» you yell from your living room. You’re tired. It’s becoming too much, and you need to talk, right now. 

You don’t hear any answer, so you stride to his room. The knock on his door makes him grimace, eyes staring directly at it.

«Come out,» you stare at the white wood, arms crossed in front of you «please» you add, voice softening.

He lets go of his clothes, laying the folded pieces on the bed more carefully than the others. 

«I cooked you dinner, I left a post it» the door opens, revealing him in all his height, hair still a bit wet from the shower. The black hoodie he’s wearing makes him look smaller and it involuntarily warms your heart a bit.

«You said you were going to sleep» you murmur.

«I am» he says.

«You’re not,» you shake your head «you’re mad at me. Did I do something wrong? Please, just tell me, it’s killing me» 

Jungkook stares at you blankly. His eyes scan your features for what seems to be an hour. He shakes his head slowly, guilt takes over him, the displeasure clear on his face. He softens, a step towards you and all of his defences fall down.

«I’m not mad at you» he’s sweet, voice covered in honey. 

«You aren’t?» your arms fall at your sides.

«You’re mad. There’s something off, you’ve been ignoring me for the last two weeks»

«I-» he cuts himself off, closes his eyes for a second. 

«I wasn’t… I…»

«Please, just talk to me» you plead. You can’t stand this atmosphere, not with him.

Jungkook shakes his head, his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace, it’s all he can do.

«I’m sorry. It’s just that work has been rough and I’m all over the place, just- I’m sorry» 

The knot in his throat is getting thicker, but he can’t say more. He knows he’s been a dick, a total idiot.

«You say that but I…» you shake your head on his shoulder, your arms move around him and you feel him sniff. 

«I promise there’s nothing wrong» he whispers, he moves his hand up and down on your back to soothe you, the other keeps you close.

«I’m sorry» 

«Talk to me» 

His hair tickle your skin, the itch makes you rub your face on his shoulder to tone it down and his hand fists the cloth of your shirt.

«If you feel like you need to vent or just… anything» your back shakes, and he knows you’re about to cry. Tears don’t fall though, you try as best as you can to not make your sensibility take over you even though your eyes are burning.

«Ssh, don’t cry, please» he sounds pleading, voice faint and shaky. It’s killing him for real, to not open up to the person he loves the most, you’re his best friend, his person. And he just wishes so much his feelings never showed up, that he didn’t look at you so differently from the way you look at him. 

«I will. I will, I promise» he blows. 

The atmosphere in your house feels light. It’s back to normal, with Jungkook walking around the place on a Thursday night, his voice echos in the kitchen as he wipes the floor, one of the songs he’s been listening to lately getting sung over and over again. 

«Jungkook, you need to see this» you call from the sofa. His eyes travel to where you are, the light of the kitchen shines stars in his irises and the beanie he’s wearing makes him look so cute. He leaves the broom carefully balanced on the side of the counter, his feet tiptoeing towards your spot. He squats down, eyes squinting at your phone.

«Woah!» his excitement makes you giggle as his hands zooms in the picture. 

«It’s our niece? I need to call Yoongi hyung! Did he send it to you?» 

You nod, a big smile on your face.

«Wait, how do you know it’s a girl?» 

Jungkook shakes his head.

«I can feel it» he beams.

«Where is my phone?» 

«I think you left it on the sink» you answer. He nods eagerly, getting back up. The way he hops all the way to the sink makes your turn and laugh, he’s so dorky you want to slap his cute little ass. 

«Fuck, I stepped on the dirt!» he whines, stopping right away. You laugh even harder, hands grabbing your stomach as he huffs and gets his phone. He comes back to the couch, falling on it with a thud and raising his feet on his knee. 

«Don’t do it here!» you scold, still laughing. He simply giggles, wagging his toes at you.

«Clean it for me?» he laughs. You want to puke.

«Ew! What’s wrong with you?» he laughs so hard you start laughing again too, looking at him as he just simply wipes it on the carpet. You roll your eyes, pinning a mental note to vacuum it later.

«Aigoo, I never walk without slippers and now this happens» he complains, shaking his head. 

He quickly finds his hyung’s contact and puts the call on speaker. 

«Jungkookah» Yoongi’s voice fills the room, the younger smiles brightly at the screen.

«My hyung is going to be a dad! Yah! Bring us out for dinner» you slap his thigh, glaring at him. Yoongi laughs, totally expecting his request.

«I will. You saw the ultrasound?» 

«Of course I did,» he nods «I feel like it will be a girl. Am I right?»

«We don’t know yet. It’s too soon, but I don’t think so. Hyunjoo says it’s a boy» 

«Really?» he narrows his eyes. 

«How was it?» you ask, the excitement is uncontainable. You’re so happy for your friends, can’t wait to meet the little one.

«I cried,» he laughs, «I thought I would hold it in but I cried. Fuck, I’m so happy Y/n» 

«I know,» you chuckle «how are the cravings?» 

«Ugh, getting worse» he whines.

«I came home and she was eating pickled cucumbers,» he moans out of disgust «made me go back to the supermarket cause she needed mustard. Couldn’t she just send me a text before» he shakes his head even though you can’t see him.

Jungkook chuckles, his body getting limp on the cushions.

«That’s what you get for making me clean the ten servings of noodles you spilled the other day» 

«Yah! I had to set the table!» 

«You were the one who spilled all!» he fights back.

Jungkook is really trying. And it’s going fine, it’s not hard to enjoy his days with you, it is never been. You just have chemistry together, you laugh almost all the time and never find it boring to be together. It’s just. 

It’s just the way his eyes linger on your rosy cheeks too much, he has to remind himself to look away, back to the movie playing on your tv. Or last night, when you were dancing to your favourite girl group’s new song, the way your lips curved into a beautiful smile, hair flying in the air and he had to hold back his smile, too big.

If he looks back to all these years, it makes him laugh, how fucking long it took him to realise how much you had of him. You spent entire days together and he would still do the same as he does now, stare at you mindlessly just for the sake of admiring you, then getting back to what was happening around him. It’s always been here, this feeling. It just took him so much to come to surface and even when it did he tried so hard to make it go away, push it down inside him until it became too much too bear and it hit as fucking hard as what you mean to him. All he repeats to himself is that he just has to do what he’s been doing all along, right? He lived with this for years, a day more won’t hurt him. 

«What are we doing tomorrow?»

He eats the last bite of pizza, cleaning his hands with the tissue.

«Yoongi’s taking us out for dinner» you answer, getting up to clean around. You grab the boxes and the glasses, the coke under your arm.

«We have to go grocery shopping» he adds. He sees you nod, you put the boxes on the counter and the glasses in the sink, make sure the coke is well closed and then put it in the fridge. It’s almost empty, the redness of the gochuchang box parked on the first shelf stands out too much with nothing beside it.

«Yes» you nod. 

«Are we going early? We can have breakfast out» 

He gets up from his spot, waddling to you. A big smile is all you need to understand his answer. Breakfasts out are the best. 

Breaksfast out means getting up on time. Something you both struggle with, since you spent yesterday night awake until late. Jungkook has the tendency of staying in bed until he’s at least a bit awake, staring blankly at something as he sits up, eyes puffy and hair messy. You just storm out of the bed knowing that if you don’t you’ll fall asleep again in a matter of seconds. 

You knock on his door, no answer in sight. 

«Jungkook!» you call again. You hear the shuffles of the covers, his cute mumbling words that haven’t been invented yet.

«Get ready, let’s go have breakfast» you say. You hear him moan as he stretches, take it as your chance to go back to your room and shower. 

It takes you both twenty minutes to kind of be ready for your day, your eyes both puffy and a bit red. You decide to go to your favorite cafe and when you arrive a wave of excitement washes over you. It’s been so long since you had a nice and relaxed breakfast outside, the feeling of being free the whole day and not having to worry too much. Jungkook watches you smile as you order and play with your phone as you both wait for your food, his pinkish lips curling up into a beam. It feels good to see you like this; relaxed, happy. It reminds him of when you were younger, with less burden on your shoulders. 

When you go grocery shopping together it usually ends up with him pushing the cart and you filling it up, he points at a snack from time to time and you end up adding it to the rest. You come home for lunch, watch a movie right after until your eyes start to fall shut, so you decide it’s time to take a nap. Jungkook stays on the couch, wanting to see how it ends. You fall asleep well, sleep for two hours straight until your alarm rings. Silence fills the house when you wake up and you guess your friend is probably napping too, so you tiptoe out of your bedroom to get a snack, until you hear him.

He’s working out judging from his grunts coming from the bedroom in front of you. You’re used to it, Jungkook likes to stay active and just fills his time like this from time to time when he has time. 

Just, this time your mind wanders. You hear his sounds, picture him sweaty and with his muscles flexing, his eyes focused and his jaw clenched, his breath rough… until you’re wet, pulsating. You hold your breath, close your eyes. And you go back to your room, shut the door.

Scenes of him eating you out play right in front of your eyes, his moans. You end up on the bed, your trousers off and your panties pushed on the side of your lips. There were times when the thought of him in this way turned you on after you stared fucking but you always pushed them away, telling yourself that it’s not right. Just, this time they hit you harder. It’s been a while since you had sex and the way he sounded just makes you want to open his door and… you shouldn’t do that. Just focus on you, you think. 

Your fingers graze your clit, go lower to get your wetness on your fingers then go back to their initial place. You see him between your legs, his fingers inside you and his dark doe eyes staring directly at you. You hear him whisper, telling you how good you take his cock, how your pussy wraps so good around it, how good you make him feel.

The image of his cock fills your mind, leaving you with the need to suck it and hallow your cheeks around it, his grunts filling up your ears, the sweetest sound ever. You feel his fingers, delicate and warm, they touch you and caress you, his kisses on your lips. 

You see him on top of you, telling you to be careful with your ankle, eyes worried and arms wrapped around you. You feel loved, for a second. A kind of love that doesn’t belong to a friend. You feel admired, beautiful. The way he looks at you with pure affection makes you hiss, his words in your ear and your bodies tight. 

Feels so good, getting to have you like this.

See him pounding into you at the slowest pace, his fingers gracing your clavicle, his hair on your shoulder. The way he checks in with you to make sure that you’re enjoying this as much as him, begging you not hold back your moans.

Gonna give my baby what she needs.

You shiver, legs shaking. 

His fingers on your clit, his cock brushing against your walls with each thrust, his whines. The way he called you. 

Ssh, let go, his voice faint as the pleasure takes over him, his balls tight, give it to me, love. You cum, silent and incredibly hard your orgasm hits you like a wave during a thunderstorm, impossible to hold back and too good to decline. 

You lay on the bed, breath stuttered and eyes shut. Your heart beats too loud. 

The first time you had sex it just happened. You don’t know what exactly went through your mind, the reason why you had to start it all; your body moved on its own. Jungkook was tired, arrived late at home and was sleepy. You cooked him dinner, kept him company while he ate even though you had dinner already. You listened to him whine about his day, the tiredness evident in his voice. A few minutes later you were on the way to your bed, already too intertwined with each other and with the new feeling bubbling up between you to stop whatever the hell was happening. 

The second time, it was pretty much just the same, you didn’t go to each other with the intent of fucking, but you ended up just like that, with his cock in your mouth and his eyes on your face. 

The third time, it was because you ended up talking about what was happening and how you should behave, how you should keep your friendship away from your rendezvous. It stared just like that, but again, you didn’t really behave that much.

And then, the last time. 

You never once went to each other with the intention of fucking. You wonder when is it going to happen again, in what way, the reason that could start it all. Would it be so bad if you just grabbed him and started it? Does that make your relationship different ? It would, you guess. But is it any different not looking for it but don’t say no when it happens? You don’t even know why you’re thinking about such questions, when you should be focusing on work. Today was stressful, you had a ten minutes lunch break because you had to go back to the papers on your table. You’re tired and your period is on the way which is probably the main reason why you’ve been feeling horny for the last four days. You should just leave it as it is or take care of it on your own, not really into casual sex with strangers or clubs. You wish you were more like Hana sometimes, enterprising and more likely to be ready to have some fun before she used to date Jin.

Your phone rings, displaying Jungkook’s name.

«Hey» you answer. 

«I’m bored» he whines from the other side. You picture him with his head falling back and his eyes shut, pouty lips.

«What should I do?» he stretches the last word out, childish tone. 

«Cook me dinner please?» you try. 

«Already did,» he huffs «when are you coming home?» 

«I have so much work to do, I don’t know» 

He whines again, leaned on his stomach his cheek is squashed against the cushion of your couch, arms by his sides and his legs kicking the air. 

His voice comes out muffled: «Please, I’m so bored» he complains. 

«Jungkook, I’m working» you sigh.

«Can I come?» he stares at the screen pleadingly, his ankles crossing as he flexes his toes. He eagerly takes the phone in his hands, eyes stuck on your name. He had a long day today, and even though he wishes he could go to bed already even though it’s only 8 pm, he’s not feeling sleepy nor tired, quite the opposite actually. Being alone in the living room is boring him too much, and he doesn’t feel like going to to someone else’s place, giving the usual noisy meeting they usually have. He just wants to relax, but not on his own. 

«Kook-»

«I’ll let you work, I promise» he begs, «I just want company»

If he could be an emoji, he’d probably be the one with the moist pleading eyes. You know it, the expression he makes when he craves for something, and that’s exactly your weak point.

A deep sigh makes his way out of your mouth, he can hear it from the phone. Silent follows right after.

«Okay, bring me food though please? I’m starving» 

«Yes!» he punches the air with a fist.

«I’ll be there in ten, I think. Just text me what you want to eat»

«The dinner you already made?» you ask. Jungkook licks his lips, this time the silence fills his part of the call.

«Okay, then be there in twenty I guess» he huffs.

You shake your head, what a moron.

You realise in this period you’re really all over the place. And you also ponder, how long is it been since you had sex with someone? Not Jungkook, someone else. Jungkook is your friend, you shouldn’t think about him when you’re touching yourself to get some stress out or just when you’re craving for sex. It’s not right, it’s not the place of a friend. It’s making you stressed, to think about sex and link it to his face in your mind. You shouldn’t have done it in the first place, you think. You also thought about telling him that it can’t happen again, but it seems like it’s not going to happen anyway. You’re glad. 

So for once, tonight you let Eunji and Hana take you to a club, with just the intention of trying to take your mind off of it. Your methods didn’t work until now, so maybe theirs will. Your friends know you too well though.

«There’s something wrong, I smell your frustration from here» Eunji inhales dramatically, a grimace forms on her face right after.

«Ew, it smells bad. Like onion and soju mixed together» she likes her tongue out disgusted. You laugh, Hana shakes her head.

«That’s the guy behind you» she points at the man dancing his ass out on his own, totally drunk.

«For real though, what’s wrong?» 

Both of their eyes linger on you. You sigh.

«Just feeling a bit overwhelmed» you shrug. Your friendship it’s deep, meaningful, full of memories, you know you could tell everything to them and they would understand. You could even tell them about the rendezvous you had with Jungkook, but that would put you and him in a not so comfortable position with your friends, the last thing you want is for them to think that you have sex with each other consistently. 

«I’ve been sleeping with someone» you announce. Eunji coughs on her drink, Hana’s eyes shoot right open. They stare at you as if you have two heads, still on the dance floor. 

«Oh, come on! It’s not that shocking. I-»

«We need to sit» Hana takes you by the hand, Eunji following right after. The couches are not really big, but you fit into one without any problems. The people are less here, the smell of alcohol and sweat too, thankfully. 

Their attention goes back to you; «Is he someone we know?»

«Why would you? No,» you shrug «you don’t know him»

«Is he good?» Eunji sips from her drink. That’s a weird question, not the one you would firstly expect from her.

«What? Why?» 

«You seem stressed and you said it yourself that you’re overwhelmed, so it’s either one of the two: he’s so fucking good that you can’t stop thinking about it or he totally sucks» straight to the point. Hana caresses your shoulder, glaring at Eunji for her ways even though you know that deep inside her she wants to laugh.

«No! He’s- I mean, he’s… good. It’s something else that bothers me»

«What?» Hana coos.

«He’s my friend, and it just happened. Different times» you explain.

«So you’re fuck buddies now?» Eunji raises her eyebrows.

«No! It just happened, we don’t do it often. I just… I don’t know how to explain it, it’s not like we see each other in that way. We have a good friendship, like- we value each other. Every time it happened, it’s not like we were expecting it or-»

«That’s worse, I guess» she shakes her head. You’re about to say something, but her words leave you wordless. 

«What, why?»

«Listen, I don’t think you can be friend and still sleep with him. If you had sex, that means you’re attracted to each other. Even if it’s not in a romantic way, it just… If it just happened, girl, there was sexual tension between you. I guess» she adds the end just because your expression is giving her shivers. The look on your friends’ faces screams panic.

«It would be better if you had a clear answer on what you are. Like… mmh, you know I’m bad at explaining things!» she whines, «Hana, please help»

Your friend sighs.

«Y/n, is this thing still happening? Like, are you still sleeping together?»

You shrug.

«It’s been a while,» you let out «actually, that’s the problem»

«You want to-»

«No, I don’t» you cut her off.

«I realised that it’s getting too much. Like, I think of him too much in a sexual way it’s making me feel uncomfortable»

«That’s what I meant» Eunji nods. 

«I’ve been there. Remember Hyun?» she chuckles. 

Of course you remember him. The guy was not really close to her, but it was the start of a friendship still. They used to have sex everywhere, their friendship ended up with them fucking each others brains out, after two months, they couldn’t bare it anymore. The atmosphere was heavy, too much sexual tension without even really having a conversation. The fact that Jimin started to find interest in Eunji made her end it even faster.

«We’re not like that though. We have a good friendship, we trust each other and-»

«And you have sex. Not regularly, it happens without any expectations. So it means that you don’t see each other as fuckbuddies, but there’s sexual tension. That’s the base for a relationship. If you put sex into the mix, you end up with butterflies in your stomach. I’m just saying that if you value him that much you should be careful. Understand what you want» her voice softens at the end, but you’re too upset by her words to notice. Eunji hates to be the one saying this, but she has to try at least. You need to know what you’re doing, set some boundaries wether you decide to do something or the other. 

«Y/n, you know that we love you. Eunji’s just trying to-»

«I know» you nod, a knot in your throat. 

«I just… I need to go home, need to clear my mind and sleep over it» you sigh, monotone. Your hand grabs the pochette laying by your side, eyes scamming the club that suddenly seems to little. You shouldn’t have slept with him in the first place. You know that you don’t feel feelings towards him, but thinking about him in such ways… it makes you feel guilty, like your friendship could lose its meaning, like it’s stained. Like it could get out of control. It’s too much to think about him when you’re alone deep at night, like the last one, his face invading your mind when your fingers are deep inside you, even though you’re trying not to picture him. 

«Now?» Hana asks, the worry in her eyes is clear. A glance towards Eunji and they’re both nodding, communicating with each other without having to speak. They know you too well, they could see the panic in your eyes even with theirs closed. 

The way back home it’s short, the music playing in Eunji’s car does nothing to ease your mind even though it’s your favorite girl group, your friends glance at you from time to time from the rear view mirror. When you get off and say goodbye, they wait for you to shut the door behind you to look at each other, eyes wide open and jaw hanging. 

«Jungkook» the name is crystal clear, both of them letting it out with a shocked expression.

«It’s fucking Jungkook» Hana nods.

Jungkook didn’t think that coming back home early meant this. 

You said you had company, texted him twenty minutes before he got off work, but he wasn’t expecting this kind of company. He was expecting Eunji and Hana, maybe Taehyung or some of your friends, a coworker maybe. Definitely not you getting fucked in your bedroom by someone he can’t identify. 

This is torture, it’s all he can think. When he arrived nothing seemed weird or odd, expect for the fact that he found the living room empty. As he started getting closer to his bedroom, he realised. And fuck, the slap he got on his face, the punches that hit him on the stomach and on his chest left him breathless, his injuries in pain and itching, his eyes shutting. 

This is torture, it really is. 

He moves from the hallway, goes to the bathroom to wash his hands and wet his face with cold water.

He can’t stay here, not in such a moment. Not when he can hear you like this, with someone else. It hurts. Fuck, it fucking hurts, it stings, it tears him wide open all the way from the inside to the last layer of his skin. His eyes burn, lips twitch. And suddenly, he’s sobbing. Sobbing in his bathroom, his reflection pitiful and broken. His breath is rough, cheeks stained from the tears, vision foggy. A whimper comes out of his mouth and he bites on his lower lip, repeating to himself that it’s okay. But it’s really not.

Jungkook’s eyes are swollen, puffy. You think it’s because he’s still half asleep, but when you meet his eyes you’re taken aback. He looks tired, as if he didn’t sleep well, but they’re a bit red. He cried? You didn’t hear him coming in yesterday night, you knew he worked late and left him dinner ready, but when you woke up today his food was just where you left it, the table still set. 

«Kook?» you coo from the counter. He hums in return, head hanging low on his shoulders and eyes staring down at his legs, he sits on the couch with the tv playing in front of him. 

You turn around, wash your hands quickly and dry them with a paper towel. You tiptoe to the sofa, glance at him from the side. Your senses are tingling, there’s something wrong. 

«Kook, look at me?» you ask sweetly. He stays still, fingers fidgeting on his lap. He thought you were still sleeping, his room felt too tight to stay in it any longer. He wishes you had different opinions on open spaces, when you were looking for a house. Maybe you wouldn’t have seen him with a wall dividing the living room from the kitchen, and he would be tiptoeing back to his bed already.

«Please?» you try. 

It’s to no use. All you can do is gulp, worried for what’s going on.

«Is something wrong?» you ask.

«Did something happen?» 

He doesn’t answer. He knows if he opens his mouth now he will start crying again. Maybe you should just sit beside him and wait for him to open up. You turn around the table, take a sit next to him and pat him on his shoulder. 

«Koo» you call again. He doesn’t even look at you. Your hand stays there, trying to give him some comfort but it only makes him want to break in a loud cry. 

«Please» you whisper. 

Yesterday, he thought about going over to Namjoon’s place or just anyone else’s, but he didn’t want to show how miserable he was. Thankfully, that guy was out ten minutes later. What a fucking joke, if he found just a bit more traffic coming home he wouldn’t be feeling like shit now. 

Your hand leaves him, you get up and for a second his lips tremble, his walls falling down as he thinks you’re giving him some space. But then, you kneel down. In front of him, right between his legs with your fucking beautiful eyes staring at him. Your expression changes; the worry gets more urgent, pressing. 

«What happened?» you’re breathless. You’ve never seen him like this, it scares the shit out of you and he can see it perfectly. You reach your arms around him, his breath cuts off.

«Don’t» he whines, voice faint, pleading. You don’t understand what is happening, your head is spinning. You put your arms back down.

«Talk to me» you whisper. He has tears in his eyes, his lips are red as if he’s been biting them all night long. He turns to the side, his eyes burn when he stares at the wall without blinking. His lips tremble. 

«Koo, please. I’ve got you»

The dim breaks. His chest shakes, expression contorting as the first tears start coming out. He sobs faintly, shakes his head to himself and looks down to the ground. It’s physically painful, to see him hurting this much; you wish you could take it all away from him and make it yours, if only that was possible you’d do it even if it hurt ten times more. It couldn’t hurt more than this, though.

Your hands wrap around him, holding him so tight to you that you feel his sobs vibrate against you. 

«I’ve got you» you soothe him, caressing his hair. With your warmth around him and your caresses, everything falls down into pieces. Every part of him breaks harder, the tear gets wider and deeper, your words of reassurance fill the wounds up but don’t sew them, they just make them heavier to the point that they pierce him and make him empty. Your hold suffocates him and your warmth is painful, your caresses bluffer him. 

«I- I c- Please I-» he shakes in your hold, not able to speak. Your eyes burn, seeing him like this it’s atrocious. 

«Breathe» you beg, holding him tighter.

«Please breathe for me Jungkook, breathe» 

He hears how your voice is shaking, sniffles as he tries to breathe properly, sobs bubble up from his chest when he inhales. Your cheek brushes against his neck, you leave a kiss out of comfort and his hands instinctively fist your shirt. He tells himself to slow down, think properly and hold back but with your loving arms around him it’s a nightmare.

«Ssh, it’s okay. I promise» you whisper. Time slows down, you just focus on his breathing. One thing at a time, you tell yourself. You, need to calm him down first, you need to see him breathing properly, at least a bit lucid. Stroking his back up and down you think about what you can do to make him relax. You’ll make him some tea as soon as he’s doing better, it will soothe him at least a little bit.

«I’m here for you» 

Jungkook’s breath moderately calms down,  his sobs still come from time to time, but you have all the time in the world. You don’t care about how long it’s going to take him to stop crying, you just know that you want to be here, need to. It’s desperate, the need you have to make him feel better, almost consuming.

«I’m- ngh- I’m sorry» he hiccups. He buries is face in the crook of your neck, his cheeks are still wet and his hair tickle you.

«So sorry- I’m really-»

«Ssh, it’s okay» you repeat. You keep stroking his hair, Jungkook seems to quite down the more you do it, his hold gets firmer too as if he’s trying to anchor himself. 

«Did something bad happen?» you try. 

He moves in your hold, making you squeeze him tighter until you realise that he’s looking for a way out, so you let go. He wishes it was this easy, that his feelings could let him free just as easy. With you between his legs,  it gets hard to breathe again. The way your eyes linger on his face, scan every feature and every expression, even the way he bites the inside of his cheek. 

«I… I’m sorry» he mumbles low. This time, his eyes look at you. Clear, transparent, vibrant fear lingers in them with so much weight that it takes away your braveness. Jungkook’s eyes stay in yours even while they fill up with tears again, they don’t budge. The knot in his throat gets back, your presence suddenly feels blissful and he wishes he could just linger in this feeling. The feeling of you being close even if it’s only like this, keep being satisfied with only having a part of you.

«It’s- too painful» he breathes. 

«What is it?» you look at him from down, with your glassy eyes and he just-

«I- I… I love you» his voice trembles. 

Silence fills the room.

His words make a dull sound in your head, your body stiffens, lips ajar. Jungkook is frightened, totally stuck in place. His heart beats so fucking loud that it will explode.

The shock it’s too big and it stops you from letting the three words sink in, all you can do is stare at him blankly as he holds his heart in front of you.

«I’m- I can’t,» he shakes his head «it’s too much. I just… it’s killing me» 

«You…» you gulp «you don’t mean it that way, right?» your voice trembles.

«It’s just- we-» you shake your head, take in a deep breath.

«We shouldn’t have- it’s because we had sex. It has to be because of that cause you didn’t-» you stop talking. 

Jungkook stays silent, his chest burns, the tears in his eyes get uncontainable, until he breaks again. His shoulders tremble and he sniffs but it’s so silent that it’s even more consuming. He looks at you with such eyes, such vulnerability and fear at the same time, as if he was a stray puppy and you his possible saviour or his next predator. It scares you. And you understand his answer, because you know him, because it can be seen from miles away. 

It’s not because you slept together.

«I need-» it’s hard to breathe properly «I need air» 

He’s confused, he mistook his emotions, most surely. It has to be that. How can- how can it be not? You’re his friend, his best friend. The one he likes to tease, the one that knows him almost as deep as he knows himself. The person he- this can’t be right. It simply can’t.

You can’t come back home. You really can’t, he needs space to think this through; you need it. You need peace, somewhere to relax, to just don’t think. If you go to Eunji’s place maybe- she will ask. Hana too, and what about Jin and Jimin? Maybe a hotel room is the best choice, in that way you won’t receive questions, no one will get curious. 

Thank god you had your phone in your pocket when you went out and weren’t wearing home clothes. You book an hotel room not too far, call a cab since you left your car keys at home. 

You can’t face him now. 

You walked a lot today, wandered around without a destination and ended up sipping a bottle of strawberry mogu mogu on Han river. Your phone buzzed at lunch time, then again at four pm, another time just fifteen minutes ago, but you didn’t take it out of your pocket. It scares you, because you know that it’s him. 

Your hotel room is a beautiful one, has a big double bed with fluffy pillows, big bathtub, snacks in the fridge, a beautiful view on the eighteenth floor. The big buildings and the city lights make you feel small, the look of the man at the reception desk too. He probably doesn’t care about the reason why you’re here instead of sleeping at home, but your mind does. Maybe then, you’re the one who makes yourself feel small. Still, you don’t want to care. You can’t go back home, not now. What would you do? What would you tell him, how would he look at you? You need time. 

When you lay on your bed, your phone buzzes again. You breathe in as you open the messages.

From Jungkook🐰 12.37pm

I’m sorry. I cooked you lunch, I left the food in the oven so it will still be warm when you come back. I ate early to give you some space. I’m really sorry

From Jungkook🐰 4.13pm

Where are you? Please be safe. Your car is here, do you want me to come and pick you up? Or I can call a taxi. Just, please be safe

From Jungkook🐰 7.54pm

Y/n, I’m worried. It’s dark outside and I went out to look for you but I just don’t know where you are. I cooked you dinner, so if you come back it will be in the oven too. Just text me so I know that you’re safe at least, please

From Jungkook🐰 8.33pm

I’m really sorry, please come home. I’ll go to Taehyung’s place if you need to be alone. Where are you? It’s dark outside and I’m really worried

Guilt takes over you, makes his way through every single part of your body until there’s not a single piece of your skin that isn’t drenched with it. Your fingers move on the keyboard, eyebrows pinched together.

From Y/n🧸 8.36pm

I’m safe. I booked a hotel room for tonight, so don’t worry. I need a bit of space, so I don’t think I will be back tomorrow. 

Jungkook’s fingers never typed an answer so fast.

From Jungkook🐰 8.36pm

I was so scared that something happened

From Jungkook🐰 8.36pm

Please eat dinner and don’t skip your meals

From Jungkook🐰 8.37pm

I won’t text you if you need space. Just, do you want me to bring you your car keys? You left them here

From Y/n🧸 8.39pm

No, it’s fine. 

From Jungkook🐰 8.39pm

Okay

From Jungkook🐰 8.45pm

I know you don’t want to talk right now, but I just need to tell you this: I will always have my arms empty for you, whenever you need a safe space I will be here. As we’ve always done with each other. Please remember this. Sleep well 

You wonder how is it possible, to be friends with someone for so long and don’t notice that there’s more. You wonder when it begun, how. Where did the friendship end and the love begin, the boundaries. Which one of his gestures where made out of friendship, which were made out of love. How did he realise. Why you. 

For the three days after you left home, all you told yourself was that he was confused, that he mistook his feelings, that it can’t be true. After you spent yesterday night walking in the streets, took another walk on the Han river and even dared to eat dinner on the riverside, a good look at the waters took your mind back to his eyes. To the way he looked at you, his eyes clear, transparent and full of vulnerability and fear when he opened up to you. What if, he’s always been in love with you, it’s always been this way. What if he’s not misinterpreting his feelings, what if he really loves you. 

It scared you even more than the day before.

You never saw him that way, your friendship has always been just friendship for you. Until- well, it’s still friendship. Eunji wouldn’t say so, but for you it is. So where does love start for you? With attraction most of all, you guess. With the want and the need to feel someone in more ways, physically, emotionally, sentimentally. With wanting to be whole. Love is… butterflies, feeling loved, giving love, taking care of each other. So where is the boundary? The boundary of friendship. 

Because fuck, today you start to wonder, you think that Eunji is right. 

What do friends do? Are you not allowed to feel all of that and still call it just friendship? What if, what if you are the one mistaking yourself? What if it’s something else, what if it’s not just friendship anymore. When did it start, when does it end. You’ve always craved this things with Jungkook. Always craved for physical touch, maybe not in a sexual way before, but what if you just didn’t ponder on it too much because you’ve always restrained yourself into thinking that you were just friends. You’ve felt the need to share, to the point that you got a home with him. You’ve always wanted him emotionally, always were ready for him in whatever occasion, always felt close to him. You’ve always felt loved, you’ve always gave love back. You always took care of each other with all yourselves.

Would you do all of that for any of your friends, for Taehyung, or Namjoon maybe? 

You’re not too sure. You don’t think so.

Is it the same with them? Of course not. You would do anything for them, but you guess it’s not in the same way, not as deeply.

What about before, even before the first time you had sex. Because maybe, it could be that you’re thinking this just because you slept together? Like, you could be the one mistaking your emotions now. 

You still felt this kind of connection before, though. With the Jungkook who was just your best friend. You don’t feel it for Namjoon who’s just your friend. You don’t feel that kind of tight embrace around you when he lingers his eyes on you for too much, his laughter doesn’t make you giggle like Jungkook’s. You don’t feel lost when he’s not talking to you or not meeting your eyes when you look at him. You wouldn’t want to have anything more with him in the first place, cause he’s just Namjoon. And for god’s sake, you wouldn’t have wanted it with Jungkook neither, if you didn’t feel already more. The fact that you were already ready to just welcome him in when the opportunity of being closer knocked on your door, well… that’s the answer. You still remember it, the frustration of seeing him so tired and the need to make him feel better after a shitty day, the need you had to take care of him when you first slept together. 

You were never just friends. Maybe in the first place, maybe at the beginning, maybe when you were younger. You just simply got used to him and his presence, never really gave your eyes a chance to see clearly, never really made yourself look at him differently because he was just… your Jungkook. 

But, what now? Is he still- Jungkook? Like, your best friend? Now that you realised, now that you understand the reason why you wondered when the next time was going to be, how; the reason why his eyes slipped in your mind at night, his words, the way he called you the last time you slept together. 

Now that you realise that, could you go back to who you were before? Just, craving for his touch but telling yourself that it’s not okay, looking at him and wishing you could take away all of his tiredness but thinking that it’s normal, for a friend. Wanting to take every part of him and know it all, looking from far away, peeking out and stealing some but not getting it whole. Could you still do that? Cause before, you didn’t know at least. Now, could you? Sentimentally too, would you be okay with it?

Jungkook just wants to go to sleep and forget about the shitty day he had. He didn’t sleep well tonight, the house feels to empty without you and last night his brain just wouldn’t stop working, kept wondering about you. If you had dinner, what time did you go to sleep at, how much did you work, if you finished the last drama you were watching. 

Today, it was pretty much just the same. The fear of you not coming back insinuated in his mind at some point during work, he even took a break and had a snack but he just kept picturing himself inside your house, all alone. Him without you, his best friend and his person. He typed on your chat for multiple times, asking you if you were eating your meal correctly, how work was going, if you were craving for ice cream just like he was, he texted sorry too, but he always ended up not sending the messages. 

He’s tired, work was rough and he wishes he could just go back in time to ask you what you want to eat for dinner, he’d cook it even though he’s tired as hell. He wouldn’t sleep for three days straight, if that would be able to bring you back just to have dinner together. 

He hates to know that you feel uncomfortable with him, can’t come back home because he’s there, that you won’t look at him in the same way as you did before. He hates to not have you by his side, when just a look could make him happy. 

The guys packed him on the shoulder, told him that he did the right thing, but he doesn’t think so. These days have been hell. There’s not a day that goes by that he doesn’t think about the way you looked at him, how he stuttered those words out and doesn’t regret it. 

Today they all had lunch together, with Eunji, Hana and Hyunjoo too. It was so odd to not see you there that he kept spacing out all the time. The girls didn’t talk about you and he even though he wanted to he didn’t ask because probably you didn’t tell them what happened.

The elevator doors open and the end of the hallway looks so far from here that he wishes he could teleport. Even the passcode of your door seems too complicated to enter now. He types the first three numbers, his eyes glued on the screen.

The door clicks, a grimace on his face, lips pouty in confusion. Then, your face. 

Jungkook looks at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, as if you were one of them. His eyes open wider, lips ajar, his shoulders fall down. He feels like he’s dreaming. Is it real? You’re home. When did you come, why? What- fuck, he feels like he’s going to cry.

The way he looks at you with his big starry eyes, it makes you gulp. How your fingers tingle for the need you feel to squeeze him tight and never let go. There’s a knot in your throat and all you can do is stare at him and linger in the feelings that hit you like a fucking bucket of cold water. And it’s bitter that they taste like they always did: the sweetness is the same, the audacity just bolder now that you let the door open: but they taste just the same. All this time, all these years. They’ve always been in front of you, you’ve always been way to deep and only realised after so much. 

«I… I- I cooked you dinner» 

He doesn’t budge, still on the doorway and with his eyes glossy. You reach your hand to him, Jungkook still stuck in place as you gently grab his wrist to make him come in, his body almost stumbling at your touch as he enters.

You close the door behind him, leave his wrist. 

«You- you… what? Are you…» he shakes his head, totally astonished. 

«You cooked?» his tone makes your lips stretch into a smile.

«I cooked,» you nod «I cooked us dinner» 

You didn’t think your heart could beat this fast. You really didn’t notice it for all this time. Every time it happened you always blamed it on something else, not the man in front of you. When his words would make you feel comforted, when you’d search for his eyes in the room, when just his presence was enough to make you feel at ease; in every moment the emotion you’re feeling now would bubble up in your chest just for you to push it aside without even noticing, a tag with the label friendship covering its true pinkish colour.

«Take your coat off» you coo. Jungkook stands still for a few seconds, still stunned. His eyes stare at you blankly until he nods. He puts his bag on the ground and hangs his jacket, you watch him move, eyes lingering on every part of him that you missed too much. His long hair, the bangs on his forehead, the mole on his nose, the one right under his lips. When he raises his eyes and finds you staring, you don’t move your eyesight. His eyes pierce right through you, deep and transparent just like the last time. They are scared, vulnerable and totally defenceless; if you looked closely enough, maybe you would’ve always seen it. 

«Jungkook, I…» 

His arms wrap around you. 

It’s tight and soothing and the fucking consuming. You squeeze him in your hold, your head falls on his shoulder and you know that you can’t hold it in any longer. 

«I’m so sorry,» you sniff «I was selfish. I’m sorry. I- I just-»

«Ssh, it’s okay» he sniffs too. The tears burn his eyes as he tries to keep them in but having you here in his arms makes it harder. He feels you hiccup, your back shakes, your hands fist his shirt, and your nose muffles into the crook of his neck. He clenches his jaw, squeezes you tighter.

«I’m sorry too»

«I was so scared. I just- I didn’t realise»

He knows, fuck he knows. He just wishes you wouldn’t vanish away. Don’t, just don’t cause he doesn’t think he will be able to forget himself.

«It’s okay, you don’t- just please don’t leave me» he whimpers. 

Jungkook breaks down in your arms. He loves you too much, values you too much to not have you in his life. He doesn’t care how much he has to hurt or hold back, he can’t do this without you, without his best friend. The house felt so empty without you.

«I won’t,» you sob «I promise I won’t. I’m sorry I made you worry and left. I needed time and- I- I needed to think» you sniff. His hands stroke your hair and you let go of a deep breath. You missed the feeling of his caresses, how his touch is always been enough to sooth you.

«You didn’t do anything wrong» he whispers. A tear streams down from the corner of his eye, it tickles his cheek and makes him loiter in the warmth of you even more.

«No, I- I was selfish… you opened up to me, and I- I left you. I’m-»

«You’re here,» he whispers «you came back. You’re here with me, you- you didn’t leave» his voice breaks and you feel him tremble. Your heart clenches and stings in your chest as he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

«Just- please,» he pleads «stay with me» 

Your dim breaks. You shake your head, lay your lips on his neck. He whimpers as he hiccups and when you lay a soft kiss on his skin Jungkook feels like dying inside. Your lips are so soft. Your nose brushes against him, another kiss laid on his skin just right upper, then another one and another one until you’re just under his jaw, his breath unstable as the tears wet his skin. Your hands leave his back, your body parts slightly, his hands reluctantly let go of the hold he has around you. You cup his cheeks, soft and reddish from the crying, look at him in those beautiful stars. They’re a bit swollen from the tears, his cheeks are damp, his lips trembling. 

«I was so fucking scared that I didn’t realise»

«Me neither,» he nods «but it doesn’t- it doesn’t matter. Just don’t leave. I can’t-» he gulps harshly. 

«The thought of not having- you by my side, it killed me. I- I couldn’t sleep, work was hell, I-»

«I’m not leaving you» your hand tenderly strokes his hair. Jungkook stay still as you dry his tears with your thumb. You want to slap yourself for causing him so much pain, he must’ve felt so scared already and you just- you just made it harder. You should’ve talked to him, should’ve faced him.

 «I promise» you smile softly. Jungkook could implode for how happy he feels right now, with you smiling at him just in the same way as you used to. Your lips tremble and a new hiccup comes out. His arms go back to where they were before, they squeeze you to him and it’s so familiar and bittersweet, it smells like home and trust and all you can do is let go in his embrace.

You let the rest of your tears come out, hear his breathing slow down, feel his heartbeat against you. You kiss his jaw, your lips tickle his wet skin, your hand reaches behind his neck and Jungkook wishes he could just take his heart out of his chest and step on it, make the feelings go away. But it’s just too saccharine, the way your lips linger on his skin for a second too long, how you perfectly fit in his arms.

«I want you,» you whisper «I want you whole» you lay another kiss on his mandible.

«I want every part of you, every- everything you can give» you peck his chin, look at his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t understand, his eyes wide and glossy stare at you as if you were telling him to solve the hardest mathematical problem ever. Still, he looks at you with such tenderness that it makes your insides twist. He’s lost, totally. 

If his love could be represented, he’d paint you in pinkish colours, then in black and white, in blue and all the colours in the world. He’d make a different version every time just to admire at your face some more, to keep the next one to himself when the lights will make the one before fade, so he’ll always be able to meet your eyes just like now. Remember the feeling you light up in him.

«I love you» 

It’s odd, how lives intertwine. How people can take and give from each other pieces that can’t be seen, how two roads that never meet can lead to the same place. It’s beautiful, the way you speak. It’s dreamy. Its dreamy, the way you look at him, the way he used to look at you for all this time, it’s beautiful how your lives intertwined, how you became each other’s mystery and answer at the same time. How you’ve walked together for all this years, silently hand by hand but without ever looking down at them, not even knowing. 

Jungkook laughs. He laughs as his tears fall down and he thinks that maybe the world will end, cause his head is spinning. You chuckle and your eyes are wet, and suddenly your hands cup his cheeks again.

«I love you» you repeat. He shakes his head, sniffing totally in disbelief.

«I do» you laugh, nodding. His head stops. His eyes widen slowly, the look on his face makes you bite down on your lips, it’s like seeing the sky clear after a thunderstorm, as if the sun was peeking out from behind the dark clouds. His mouth opens.

«I do» you whisper. 

Suddenly he wants to cry even more. Your lips lock with his and it’s so gentle and sweet, and oh god, so consuming. You take all the space, every cellule of his body, all the air in the room, in the house even. You leave him breathless, lungs burning on fire. His lips are soft, wet with tears, salty. Jungkook whimpers in your mouth, his hand reaches your face and fuck, there’s no end. No end to how fucking much you have of him, how much of him is yours. 

His thumb strokes your cheek, his other hand falls on your waist. His tongue is warm, his eyes shut, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks, both of your hearts pounding. You kiss slowly, sweetly, lovingly. You wish you could never let go, have him like this forever. And for the first time your thoughts are the same as Jungkook’s in this moment. If he could read your mind, how big  would be the smile stretching on his face. Jungkook smiles on your lips, his teeth brush against your tongue, his digits on your waist lightly dig into your skin. When you part, your eyes are still shut, foreheads pressing against each other.

«I’m sorry,» you mumble on his lips, he shakes his head, pecking your lips with such tenderness «I’m sorry it took me so long to realise»

Jungkook is the happiest man in the world.

You came back, you’re in his arms, you love him. You fucking love him, you do.

«It’s okay, it’s perfect. You- just please come to me» he guides you close to him again, you shut your mouth when his warmth wraps around you, his eyes shut. You don’t want to let go, you won’t. 

«Jungkook» you call softly. He hums against you neck, his lips dare to peck your skin and he can’t fucking believe that he gets to do it cause he simply can.

«When did you realise?» 

«I already knew» he murmurs.

«But… on Eunji’s birthday… you came back home and were so drunk. You slept with someone else and I just- I guess my feelings were so strong that I couldn’t control them anymore»

«I slept with someone?» you ask, your head shooting up too look at him. Jungkook nods.

«You said he had a pretty dick» he chuckles for your choice of words, even though he can still fill it sting. Just the thought of you in someone else’s arms makes him heart clench. 

«Oh! No!» you laugh, «Jungkook, I didn’t sleep with anyone. He was peeing outside of the club and I was so drunk that I kept repeating him that he had a pretty dick for all the way home» you explain.

«Ew, it’s so embarrassing. Eunji made him take me home because he’s her brother’s best friend» 

Jungkook can’t believe his ears. His eyes are about to roll out of his sockets for how wide they are.

«You- I thought…» he shakes his head.

«I didn’t, you know I don’t feel comfortable in those type of situations» you shake your head.

«Even though… last week I-»

«I know» he murmurs.

«You know?» he nods. 

How does he? You don’t understand, how is-

«I came home early and- I… heard» his words are faint, a thin line that holds all the pain his heart was stained with. It echoes in the room, gets back to your ears until your eyes widen and you feel disoriented.

«So you-» you can’t even process your words properly «I’m so sorry, fuck» you really don’t know how to apologise. He was at home, while you were under another man. He heard you. His eyes were swollen the next morning, that’s why. He couldn’t even look at you. 

«If I knew, I wouldn’t- I…» 

He smiles softly, his heart clenches. 

«You’re in my arms now» his lips tremble slightly.

«I just kept thinking about you and when it was going to happen again. I kept telling myself that we shouldn’t have slept together in the first place, I felt guilty that I thought about my best friend in such ways and- I- I told myself that it was happening because I hadn’t slept with anyone else for a while»

You do your best to explain without getting your words intertwined, but Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change into an angry one, he doesn’t glare at you, doesn’t budge. He just nods, smiles sweetly. 

Love can be blind. It can blind you to the point that you can’t see straight, can’t decipher what’s happening. You were scared, lost. 

«I hurt you so fucking much» you whisper. 

«Maybe it had to happen, for us to be here» he whispers.

«I don’t care about anything,» he strokes your hair «It hurt. But you’re here with me and I just- I just want you close to me» 

His arms hold you just for the sake of it. 

His warmth is intoxicating, the sound of his breath too. You wish you realised sooner, you wish that he didn’t have to hear you in such circumstances cause the pain on his face the next day was unbearable. When he saw you the next morning, all he could think about was you under someone else, your skin against his, your eyes looking at him in the same way you looked at him. The same thoughts that teared him apart for all night long. But now, it doesn’t matter. It was just a step that had to be taken, in a way or another. It was just something that guided you to him, in his arms right now.

Something in the air shifts. All your senses tingle, they scream for him and his touch just the same as Jungkook’s. He wants to have you, the most vulnerable part of you, like no one else ever did. You want his lips and his caresses, his eyes deep into yours.

«Let’s go to bed?» 

His breath catches in his throat.

«I want you closer than this»

The path to your bedroom never felt so good to walk on, with Jungkook’s fingers digging in your hips and his lips on your neck. It’s thrilling, the feeling running through your body. It’s saccharine, sugar coated. Your hands in his hair fit so good, the way you whimper when you stumble cause you can’t see in front of you, how he chuckles on your lips. 

«I want you in my bed,» he breathes on your lips «wanna keep you there all night long» 

Fuck, the way he makes you melt in his arms with just a few words. You nod eagerly,  letting your hands run on his back. Jungkook can’t hold himself back any longer, gripping you by your thighs and kissing your neck, his lips are wet and with the air your skin fills of shivers. His fingers dig into your skin as he moves towards his bedroom. 

«I want you so bad» you whine. 

«Gonna give it to you baby, everything you want» 

The door is shut and Jungkook doesn’t seem to want to let go of holding you as he kisses your lips. It’s too much to ask of him, after loving you for so long. You’re too breathtaking, too perfect.

«Let me» he kisses you again «open the d-» another kiss. You laugh on his mouth, his giggles fill the air as he keeps pecking your lips. 

«Kook, the door» 

He smiles big, turns around to make you open the door without letting you go. It stays open when he walks inside, doesn’t care at all and just walks to the bed, leans you down on his sheets. 

«Take it off» you mumble. He moans when your hands reach his skin under the shirt, nuzzles his face into your neck. You lift the cloth, Jungkook kisses your clavicle, his lips get as low as your shirt permits, his nose brushes against the swell of your breasts. You pinch his back, giggle when he whines.

«Want you naked» you remind. He laughs and looks into your eyes, totally drunk. 

«You’re so impatient» he sniggers, making you smile and turn. Your cheeks grow red as your eyes look at his nightstand.

«Look at me» 

His fingers reach the hem of his shirt as you turn again, he lifts it more and takes it off from between your legs; the view makes you salivate, his muscles on full display, his brownish nipples getting hard with the cold air.

«Want me to take my pants off too?» 

You want to smack his ass but you refrain yourself, you know he’s just teasing you like always.

«Shut up» you shake your head. His fingers reach the button of his pants, he slides it through the hole, pulls the zipper down. 

«Let me» you sit on the bed. You kiss his neck, let your fingers graze the skin of his chest, your touch makes his cock twitch, hard and swollen in his boxers. You let your hand pass over his navel, down until you reach his dick. 

Your hand lingers on it, Jungkook’s head falling back. 

«Fuck, you’re too much» he moans. 

«Make me so hard by doing nothing» he hisses. Butterflies fill your chest, your hand squeezes him through the cloths and you feel yourself getting wetter as he lets out a rough breath. God, the sounds he makes. They make you want to surrender to him and his pleasure, you feel the need to take him in your mouth as if your life depended on it. His hands go back on your body, fast fingers fist the material of your skirt. 

«You’re too impatient» you mock. He hums a soft giggle looking at you. 

«I am» he admits. Your sneaker in response makes him smile big and he lays his forehead on yours. He looks at you with those eyes, all the stars in the world couldn’t be as bright and magnificent as them and you can’t help but dive deeper and deeper. 

«I want to make love to you, wanna make you feel so good» and it feels so good to be able to say it out loud. To let you know.

You kiss him, really too impatient to hold back any longer. He helps you out of your skirt, takes your shirt off, makes you lay on the bed as he takes his pants and boxers off, his socks too. And fuck, the way he looks. How fucking gorgeous this man is when he’s just standing in front of you with his cock hard and standing proudly, cockhead red and swollen, skin exposed and the tattoos on his arm on full display.

«Fuck, come here» you beg. Jungkook doesn’t let you repeat it twice, his body hovers yours and you open your legs to welcome him. He kisses your right hip, his lips are wet and they tickle your skin, make you squirm under him as he cups your breast from over the bra. 

«Fuck, I love you» he hisses as he looks up at you. You can’t control the beat of your heart, too lost in him and how much youu’ r been missing. You can’t believe it took you so long to finally understand. Your lips part as you stare down at his face, his dark eyes on you. He kisses your stomach with his eyes in yours, the scene makes you so wet that you wrap your legs around him and Jungkook’s cock brushes against your panties. He moans, the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard, his mouth is still on you and the lace of your panties feels so fucking good on the underside of his cock that he shuts his eyes. He can feel your wetness even through them, they are soaked. Fucking hell. Your legs squeeze him more as you look at him, his mouth open and eyebrows pinched together. You lift your hips, to give him some friction. Hic cock twitches against you and you let out a breathy moan that makes him open his eyes. 

«Oh, fuck» he moans. It’s guttural and so fucking sexy. You can’t wait to hear more, you want to make him crazy. 

«Grind against me» you breathe. His cock twitches again, his jaw clenches. He lets you pull him closer with your legs, keep him tight against you until his cock is practically glued to your panties, your pussy totally soaked. His hands cup your breasts and he squeezes them gently while looking at you, your head digs into the pillows, a moan escapes your lips and Jungkook can’t help but do the same. His hips move tentatively, his cock rubs against the lace and the pressure gets to your clit. Your moan makes him whimper, your voice so sweet that it makes him repeat his movements. He can feel the outline of your lips from your panties and it’s fucking killing him.

«Fucking panties» he hisses, somehow making you laugh.

«Mh, what?» he smiles at you, his cock still brushing against your throbbing clit. You bite your lips.

«Nothing, just you» you shake your head. The pleasure is so good. Jungkook keeps smiling as he kisses the tip of your nose.

«Me what?» he asks, his fingers get under the strap of your bra, he pushes it down on your shoulder. 

«Just you,» you smile «I don’t know» 

He’s so fucking happy. 

«Am I funny to you?» he bumps his nose against yours. His movements are slow and controlled, his thighs glued to the back of yours, eyes right deep into yours. He moves his hand under your back, his fingers fumble with the opening of your bra.

«Sometimes» you laugh, cupping his cheek. You kiss him sweetly, Jungkook smiles on your lips as he lifts the bra from your chest, he guides the straps down your shoulders and your arms until he lets it fall on the ground. He pecks your lips once more, finally fondles your breast with his hand. Your nipples are hard and he wants to tease them until you squirm under him. His cock jerks when you moan under him, the pads of his fingers brushing against them. 

«Kook» you whimper. He kisses your neck all the way down to your chest, his lips lock around the pebble of your nipple as he teases the other with his fingers. Your back arches, mouth opens. 

«Feels so good» you breathe. He flicks his tongue repeatedly, sucks lightly as he ruts his cock up and down on your clit. Your legs tremble, he lets go of your nipple and takes the other in his mouth. It feels too good.

«Fuck» 

His hand travels on your stomach, his fingers pass your hip and reach the inside of your tights to caress it softly, tickling your skin until he presses his cock against you with his palm, his cockhead heavy on your clit. You squirm under him as he kisses your neck, his moans fill up your ears as he works his cockhead on it.

«Tell me you’re mine» he nuzzles his face into your skin. His balls are so tight he could cum right now.

«Jungkook, I’m going to-» you can’t even speak, you’re so close your blood is running hot in your veins. The pleasure it’s too much, it keeps building up and you just want to succumb.

«I’m yours» 

«Only for me» he grunts.

He parts his cock from your pussy. You want to ask why but a second later his fingers link around the hem of your panties and he pushes them down onto your thighs and over your knees until they pass your ankles and get lost in the room. The need to take a good look at your wetness stops him from pushing his cock back to where it was. He stares down at your lips, parts them with his fingers and fuck, he wants a taste. Your juices are leaking out from your hole so deliciously that he can’t hold back and gathers them with his thumb. 

«So fucking wet» he praises. 

His lips wrap around his thumb, sucking on it and tasting you, his cock twitches as it stands angrily. You taste so sweet, so delicious for him that he promises himself he’s going to make you cum like this tonight, eat every drop, swallow all your sweetness. And then start all over again.

«Wanna be the only one who gets to taste your beautiful pussy» 

Your hands grab his wrist on your leg as you nod.

«I promise» you whisper.

Jungkook lays on top of you again, he lets his wet thumb brush against your nipple as he his cock parts your lips and slides back between them. Your folds feels so good against him, the sensation makes him bite on his lips as he suppresses a loud moan. Your nails dig into his back as you look at his face, so fucking beautiful. It’s paradoxical how you think he looks like an angel when his cock it’s sliding against you so agonisingly.

«I want you to cum like this» he breathes.

He pushes his cockhead against your clit, rubs it in circular motions and then up and down, from side to side. Your juices mix with his precum, it’s so fucking wet that your juices drip on his sheets. He wants them to smell like you, to remember the way you smell when you’re working and he’s waiting for you at home, wants your juices to fucking claim his sheets. 

«Can you do it? Cum all over my cockhead, baby. Do it for me»

Fuck, how couldn’t you. It’s too much. Especially when he’s asking you like this, looking at you like you’re the essence of his world. 

You nod quickly, your chest raises up and down at a torturing pace and Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of you. He loves you so fucking much, you’re his. Fucking his.

«I’m- fuck, I’m going to cum» 

«Me too, baby. Cum with me?» he sweetly brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, he kisses your cheek with such tenderness and sincerity and your heart just can’t process it. It explodes in your chest, your legs shake and suddenly you’re whimpering and squeezing your eyes shut, your head digs into his pillows, your walls tighten. Jungkook grunts, pushing all the length of his cock against your folds and wrapping you closer to him in his arms. He cums so hard that his head falls on your chest, his moans muffled against your skin. His cock jerks, his cum wets your stomach and drips down your thighs and onto the sheets, a bit of it on his abdomen and chest too as he lets himself lay on top of you. 

It’s blissful, the way your fingers stroke his hair as he breathes harsly, he feels his heart pound and his insides melt. You stay silent, look at him just laying in your arms. You never felt so light, so free as now. Love can be blind, so blind that something so special had to wait all this time to finally be seen; all these years and your souls intertwined in every way possible, the roots of your plants were always in the same pot. You were so used to his presence and his leaves that you didn’t realise how much soil you shared, how deeply were intertwined your roots, how they held each other up with such tenderness and love. You want to see his flowers, want to share your water with him, you want to bloom and wilt with him, you want it all. 

«I love you» 

You caress his cheek even though you can’t see them, his eyelashes flutter against your chest and he raises his face to look at you, then rests again on top of you.

«I love you too» he answers. A big smile. Starry eyes, rosy cheeks, messy hair, totally love drunk. And you couldn’t love it more. You pinch the apple of his cheeks, he scrunches his nose and pouts his lips. 

You feel attacked, seriously.

«Why are you so cute?» you whine. His giggles fill the room as he gets up. He lays beside you, wraps his arms around you and squeezes.

«I want to spoon you» his fingertips dig into your hips as he kisses your shoulder. You huff contently, turning around. His legs intertwine with yours and Jungkook rests his head in the space between your shoulder and neck, his chest tight against you.

«Are you comfortable?» he pecks your cheek. It’s perfect.

You nod and shut your eyes, lingering in the feeling of the moment. 

«Don’t sleep» he whines, pinches your hip.

«I haven’t finished with you yet» 

«What? I’m tired» you laugh. You really aren’t, but you like to tease him. Your eyes open, head turns slightly to look at his eyebrows furrowing as he frowns. 

«It’s not true» he blubbers. Fuck, how can he look so adorable in such a situation? All naked, tight against you.

«It is,» you pout back «I’m really tired» you fake a yawn. His head falls on the pillow. 

You stay still for a little, then decide that you want to look at his pretty face. He wails as you turn around, clearly not okay with it.

«Let me spoon you at least»

«Wanna look at your pretty face» you puff at him. His body relaxes and when you turn around the view hits you like a truck on a highway. His hair are messy, long strands following sweetly the roundness of his cheek as he stares at you. His eyes are round, doe-like, incredibly profound they capture the light of the room and exhibit it perfectly, stars scattered across their skies. His lips are red, and it’s because of you. You caress his cheek, brush the strands away. He smiles largely, his hand grazes the back of yours and squeezes it, his other one behind your back so sweetly that you melt. 

«You can fall asleep on my chest» he murmurs. You shake your head.

«I was just teasing you,» you giggle «don’t wanna sleep now» 

He huffs, faking annoyance but it’s just really endearment.

You graze his chest with your fingers, tickle him with the nails as you slowly move up and down. His cock is still hard, the tip red. 

«You’re… you’re still hard» you breathe. 

Jungkook looks at you, the way your eyes stare at his cock on his abdomen, a big smile stretching on his lips as his cheeks grow a little reddish.

«Can’t help it baby,» he simply says «it’s what you do to me» 

He doesn’t lead the conversation anywhere else, as if he doesn’t intend to do anything about it, a dreamy sigh leaving his lips. He stares at you in awe, he can’t believe he gets to do this. In his arms, you naked and relaxed, laying down to stay. You don’t get up to leave his mattress and go back to just being friends, close but not close enough, a heartbeat away. Laying with you feels ecstatic. It’s the forbidden fruit, the one he always craved for; the intimacy of it, being in your rawest states and still trusting each other in such a profound way, getting to see each others fully in every way possible, physically, emotionally. 

«Love» you whisper. His big eyes look straight at you, his heart stumbles in his chest. 

«Last time… you called me love»

«I… couldn’t hold back» he shakes his head, nuzzling into you. 

«It felt different from the times before, it was…»

«I was making love to you» he mumbles. The way he clings his chin to the fist of his hand on the pillow right after makes your stomach clench. The silence creates a foggy haze in the room, but you still see each other clearly. He must’ve hurt so much, for so long. You want to make him smile. You want to reassure him, make him feel loved just as he did to you that day. 

«My baby» you whisper, leaving a peck on the tip of his nose. He scrunches it and smiles big at you.

«Let me do the same- » you kiss his lips and although the intention was to go for just a peck Jungkook’s lips keep you attached to him like a magnet «and make you feel good?» 

«Mmph…» he moans as soon as your hand reaches the base of his cock. You feel it twitch, watch it as it gets even harder in your hand. Jungkook gulps, shuffling on the mattress to get comfortable. The view of your pretty little hand around him makes him longing, yearning to have you all over him. He doesn’t even have to wait after cuming already, he knows he could be ready for you right now. And when you stroke him, oh god, the sound he makes… you wish you could record it and play it all over again and again. 

He folds his arms, rests on the back of them to look at the view properly, head up and chest raising roughly.

«Fuck, I love it» he hisses. You lick your lips, get closer to him on your side as you let your hand pull his foreskin back, his cockhead furious and leaking precum already. 

«You like it?» you coo. He looks at you, your lips wet and your eyes gawking at him. You make him powerless just by doing nothing. Your thumb touches his slit.

«Shit, yes» he moans.

«Love it, I love it» 

You smile at him. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off your face and your hand, not even for a second. When you gather his precum and stroke it all over his cockhead he breathes hard and suddenly he craves for a taste of you. His chin points at you, lips pouting as his cock pulses in your hand.

You peck his lips, tighten your hand around him and twist your wrist. He moans loudly, his head falls back. 

«Fuck» he cries. 

«You’re so beautiful» you whisper. 

«Want you to feel so good» 

He nods lazily, his eyes shut. Your hand is… perfect. Just perfect. It makes him thaw under you, for you, until he’s just whining and moaning, totally lost.

«You- nnngh- you do» 

You push his hair behind his ears, you don’t think you’ve ever felt this feeling. This kind of excitement while doing something for someone else, only for him. This part of you is his, tied and bound to his soul.

«All the time» he shivers.

«Every fucking time you- fuck» his moan is high pitched, desperate. He’s losing his mind, it’s too much when you stroke his cock and have your pretty eyes looking at him so sweetly, holding all the love he always wished to get from you. It’s too much, and he just wants to explode.

«Every fucking time, you don’t even realise,» he shakes his head «you- you just, fuck I love you» 

It’s brutal, how he takes your face in his palm and pushes your lips onto his, brutal for your heart. Such a crook.

The kiss is messy, sloppy, totally heedless. He just wants you close, it’s just for the sake of feeling you more, and it makes you so wet you feel your juices drip down your asshole.

«Love you- so fucking much» he whines. You kiss him more, stroke his cock until his balls are tight and Jungkook is squirming on the bed, his sounds creating the perfect melody for your ears, his pleasure skyrocketing until he just knows he has to stop you. 

His hand wraps around yours, stopping your movements. 

«Want you,» he hisses «wanna cum inside you while I feel you close» you couldn’t resist such a plea even if you wanted to. 

You smile at him and nod, your skin is on fire just at the thought of it. Jungkook’s hand tickles your side as it descends on your hip, his digits dig into your skin. He goes to sit up but you stop him with your hand on his chest. 

«Huh?» he hums puzzled, his lips forming an “o” and his eyebrows high.

«Let me» you smile. Fuck, he feels like cuming already.

«Let me take care of you» you whisper. Jungkook hisses as he lays back down, soft strands of hair spread on the pillow and starry eyes look at you while you straddle him. He doesn’t know if you resemble more an angel or the devil himself with your love surrounding him and your dangerous touch, but maybe you’re the collision of both. 

You lay down to kiss his lips, a soft and gentle kiss that makes him yearn even more just because it’s ohso lovely. 

He must’ve been blessed, cause when you let your hips grind against him and he feels the warmth of your core he feels like he’s in heaven. Maybe you’re an angel, most definitely the prettiest of all. 

Your lips feels so fucking good that his cock jerks and he has to hold back himself from cuming.

«Fuck, wait-» he hisses. 

«I don’t think I can- I need to desensitise a bit or I- I’ll cum» 

You stop your movements and lean down to kiss him some more. You caress his cheek, Jungkook’s arm can’t help but keep you close and tight against him. Your soft breasts feel so good against the hardness of his chest, your hair hanging down from the side of your face. His hand squeezes your asscheek and a cheeky grin appears on his face.

«Feels so good to get to do this» he pipes. 

«You used to do that before too» you snigger and he squeezes your flesh once more.

«Only in bed» he laughs. You shake your head and pinch his right nipple lightly, watching as he keens and brings his hand to cover the injured part.

«Why?» he whines with his eyes closed. You lay down and kiss the tip of his nose.

«I get to do this too» you coo. He sighs deeply and glares at you, lips pouty.

«You used to do this before too» he murmurs. You smile at him.

«Not in bed? I should’ve and could’ve but I didn’t. I had to try» 

«Fuck, you’re so annoying» he groans even though a big smile is already stretching on his lips. It’s beautiful how the change of your relationship didn’t change the way you act around each other, the same old habits and teases. 

«Should I kiss it for you?» you laugh. Jungkook peeks at you from his half lidded eyes.

«Do I get to kiss your ass when I’m outside of bed?» 

Your laugh fills the room, the apples of your cheeks full. He pushes you onto him, his hand coming to your face, he kisses your lips, pecks your nose and your cheeks, your forehead too. Silence spread in the air as he pours his love onto you with caresses and little sighs, totally rapturous.

You kiss his neck, his clavicles, his shoulders and his pecs, lick on his nipple. Jungkook squirms under you and a second later you’re… kissing it. He laughs out loud, his giggles are high pitched and he scrunches his nose as he lets his head fall back on the pillow. So fucking cute, you think. You want to keep him in your pocket and never let go.

«Are we ready to go?» you giggle as he still laughs. Jungkook nods, eyes bright. His bangs are messy and you take some time to brush them with your fingers as his chuckles summer down. 

«It’s gonna be messy again, come on» he whines. 

«So impatient,» you sigh «let me make my baby pretty» you coo. Jungkook whines again.

«Please,» he strokes your back «wanna be inside you» 

«Mmh, ‘kay baby» you hum against his lips. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, blow on it just to hear the sound of his humming when he shudders under you as you take a hold of the base of his cock. He’s so hard that you let out a dreamy sigh, totally in love with the feeling of him in your hand. Jungkook’s hips stutter up, his cheeks paint of red when his eyes meet you and you wonder if it’s just the warmth of the room or your effect on him.

Your core brushes against him and he releases a soft yearning hum. You sit up, breast on full sight and eyes on him as you push yourself onto him. It’s so fucking wet and tight and delicious that he doesn’t ever want to leave your pussy. Fuck, he’d spend every second of the day inside you if he could. 

«So tight» he moans. You slowly fill yourself up with him, he grabs your breasts and squeezes them, fumbles your soft flesh as you start to move unrushed. You’re so beautiful on top of him, so pretty. All for him and him only. 

«Talk to me» Jungkook wants to hear your words as you ride him. The position is totally new to the both of you but fuck, it feels perfect. He fills you up so good that your walls pulsate all around him, getting to see him under you with his big dark eyes on your face makes you want to spoil him in all the love he showered you with the last time and even more, you want him to feel totally engulfed by it, from how much you love him. 

«Love it, I love your cock» you moan. You put your weight on your hands on the bed, leaning back a little as his cock hits the perfect spot inside you. Jungkook pinches your nipple, your breasts look so good that he wishes he could kiss your skin. He watches them bounce with every move, feels his cock throb and leak precum inside you. It’s so fucking wet, your juices mixed together and god, the sounds you make could make him crazy.

«How much?» he hisses. You bite your lips.

«So much baby» you whine. His hand reaches your clit, he rubs it gently with his thumb and looks at your face. His heart pounds wildly, you turn him on so much that he has to restrain himself every time. However, now he wants you close and even though he’s loving the way you’re taking him so good, your body is too far for him. 

«Love» he calls out putting both of his hands on your hips and staring up at you. You look down at him, his skin is a bit sweaty and his lips red from all the kisses you shared. Jungkook sits up.

«Want you closer, please» he maffles. 

«Let me open my legs so I can hold you» 

You let his cock pull out, the loss of contact makes you grimace and Jungkook smiles endeared as he pinches your cheek. He opens his thighs, his cock stands proud against his abdomen, so pretty. He guides you onto him, your thighs over his and your pussy back on him. His hands grab the flesh of your ass, his face hides in the crook of your neck and he breathes in your scent as you take him back into your heaven. Like this, he thinks he could die happily. Fuck, so close and perfect. The contact of your skin makes him breathless, the feeling of you all over him, so tight that not a single inch isn’t against him. The way you hug his cock makes his head spin, how you grind your hips into him and dig your nails into his back. Your moans in his ears, he captures every single and makes sure that the next one comes out because you’re feeling even better. He rubs your clit, sucks your nipples, kisses your neck, keeps you close until your sweats mix and all he can do is breathe you in.

«You’re perfect» you whisper. His heart trembles, all the defences he had to put on for all these years without even realising are down on the floor, totally scattered in pieces. They burn into ashes, fire takes over them completely until there’s nothing left but haze, and then there’s you. You on top of him, you under him, you on his lips, you in his mind, just you. You’re everywhere, part of him. 

«I was so stupid-» you hiss as he kisses your cheek «fuck, how could I not see it?» 

His nose nuzzles into your cheek and he pecks your skin repeatedly, his thumb rubbing faster on your clit.

«Ssh, we’re- nngh fuck, we’re here now» he reassures.

«Never wanna leave you,» you mumble «never» 

Jungkook feels like crying suddenly. There’s a knot in his throat that tastes like pain, like all the tears he shed and every night he spent thinking about you. All the worry that he felt when you weren’t with him, the feeling of loveliness without you by his side, the feeling of not being enough to be seen, to be considered as more. It all gets back to him and his eyes burn, his vision becomes foggy, his breath ragged for the pleasure of having you here. 

«Baby,» he whines «feel like crying» his voice trembles. 

You stop your movements, totally focus on him. Jungkook shakes his head though, pushes you onto him more to make you keep going.

«Just make love to me» he whispers. 

«I still can’t- still can’t believe you’re mine» 

«I’m yours» you don’t wait a second more to let it out. You watch him beam with his eyes glossy and can’t help but kiss him. You kiss all of his worries away, every single one. As you make love to him so sweetly, they all melt. He cries, salty tears mix with your kisses, your hands dry them and you kiss the path they walked on. You spoil him with your touch, your caresses, even your breath on his skin. Jungkook can’t even speak properly from the feeling in his chest. 

«I love you, love»

«Fuck, oh god- call me that again» he moans. He lets his head fall back as you keep moving, the expanse of his neck displayed for you. You let your hand trace it and then do the same for his chest, rub his nipples and hear him moan.

«My love» you repeat, breath rough.

«Mine, you’re mine»

«Fuck yes,» he whimpers «yours baby» 

You want to make him cum. You want to see him shake in pleasure and contract his abs, you want everything he can give and more. Your hand travels farther down, Jungkook squeezes your ass again as he feels your touch graze his skin until you get to his balls. They’re wet with your juices, so tight and full of cum for you. He moans loudly, his mouth attaches your neck as you caress them sweetly in your hand. Your touch is so gentle and his cock feels so fucking good, his body feels like levitating from how much you’re giving him. It’s too much to hold back.

«God, you’re- you’re going to make me-» he howls «cum» he shudders.

You kiss him deeply, your tongues in each others mouth and your eyes closed, foreheads touching and hearts glued to each other. 

«Cum for me» you breathe on his lips.

«Cum inside me, show me how you cum for me, love» 

His eyes open, eyebrows furrow as he moans. You kiss him more, spoil him totally. You whisper how much you love him, how good he feels inside you, how beautiful he is. Until it’s fucking unbearable, his cock twitches and all he can do is let go. Jungkook groans, digs his nose into your neck in such a desperate way that you feel your heart being wrapped tightly and squeezed almost to the point that you can’t breathe anymore, his whimpers come out muffled on your skin, his cum filling you up totally as you keep moving on top of him and in his hold. You cum with his moans in you ears as you milk him dry, the room spinning and your legs shaking. You collapse in his arms, feel him sob in your hold. Even when you don’t realise it you kiss his hair, stroke his back as your body feels light and wobbly, totally lost in its high. You cup his cheeks and peck his lips, the mole right under, the one on his nose, his forehead. Jungkook never wants to let go. 

«Cuddles» he murmurs on your neck right after, hiding from the world. You nod lazily, his cock still inside you. 

It’s weird, the roads that love takes and the path it walks onto. It’s odd, how it can blossom without asking for permission, how it grows and spreads, takes over everything it finds on its way. It’s beautiful, how Jungkook clings onto you like you’re love itself and you do the same for him, roots intertwined and shared soil in the same pot, one soul fixed together with pieces of each other, like it’s always been. Since you were sixteen and he was nineteen, for all these years. And for many more to come

Read more about Closer here: Closer: Too Close (Teaser)

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Taglist: @p-i-e-d-p-i-p-e-r, @kaitlynlovesbm, @bytheinaya, @jub-jub, @taolucha, @minayas1998, @seoulrenebae-blog, @ppeachyttae, @gluk97, @jk97bam, @diorh0seokie, @gwsjungkookie, @moonlikemeh, @skzthinker, @eyssdumpie, @sleepy-sae, @jjkw-7, @singularityjes, @vvicaddiction, @kimchijeonjk @jungkookieeee97

#jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook one shot #jk angst #jk x reader #jk fanfic #jk fanfiction #jk fic #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #bts masterlist #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jk x y/n #jk x you #jeon jungkook oneshot #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x you #bts one shot #bts ot7 #bts masterpost #jungkook drabble #jk fluff #bts smut

[kittykattropicanna]

So she’s marrying mechanic!Simon right? Like full on, he’s grabbing the guys and his best girl for a quick ceremony, let’s just do this, married?

I neeeed it 😮‍💨. The wedding night. The possessiveness 🤌🏾.

HusbandMechanic!Simon fucking you for the first time as a married couple????? Absolutely, I got you <3

Mechanic!Simon definitely proposes early on during your relationship and you definitely get married quickly, but I do feel like you get to see a more passionate side to him on your wedding night, like, his still definitely going to fuck you like an animal and be a complete perv now that you're married but......whats he like when is in a more passionate mood...?

TW: we've got some pervy!Simon, possessive!Simon, marriage, dirty talk, nasty smut and some passionate smut

Mechanic!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

The thing about Si is that he knows you’re way too good for him. He knows that in any other circumstance he would never be the man you look at, be the man you actively seek out at a club or bar. 

His handsome, no doubt about it, but his just a very intimidating guy, his eyes cut right through you and paired with how big he is, the average person is not approaching him out in public and starting a conversation. 

And a girl like you? You’re just perfect, quite literally the embodiment of everything he has ever wanted or needed in a women. Its just really hard for him to wrap his head around the idea that you chose him with all intentions to stay :(

I think that’s were a big part of his possessiveness comes from, not all of it, but a majority for sure. 

And he knows his a perv :( 

He knows that maybe his a bit to much, visibly getting a hard on that pokes through his grey sweatpants as he watches you do the dishes or bending you over the washing machine and fucking you dumb when you're just trying to wash his work uniform. :(((

Every time he has his way with you it puts him on cloud nine. He lives for making you cum :(((( He lives to serve you :(

He definitely preposes very early on into your “relationship”. I don’t think you guys ever sat down and had the formal “we’re a couple” conversation, you were very much his the moment you wore his company jacket the night you met.

There was no slow burn. No lets go on a date and get to know each other a little more. You moved into his sketchy one bedroom apartment the night you guys met, you slept in his bed from the very start, he kissed you before he went to work the next morning then came home on his lunch break just to eat your pussy because he “forgot his lunch” :(((((

His so dirty >:( arms covered in grease and oil, hands dirty as he places you on the dining room table, kneeling down and throwing your legs over his big, wide shoulders!!!!

 Pushing up the shirt he leant you to reveal your wet cunt begging for his attention :(((

“Come on baby, there ya’ go, spread those legs my sweet, sweet girl, let me eat ya’ pussy” Si groans at the sight of you like this, his perfect girl all wet and ready for him :((( wet and ready to get her pussy eaten by a dirty man covered in car grease >:(

He smells so musky, so sweaty. You can see the streaks of sweat that had ran down his chest and dried, leaving a patten through the dirt across his exposed skin. The low v line of his work shirt making all to visible for you :3

You’re rubbing your thighs together just from the sight, ready to be fucked by his mouth before he even touches you :(((

Si dives in, eating your cunt like a starved man :(((( moaning and groaning as he laps up the wetness that’s seeping out of your hole, sucking on your clit as you try and close your thighs from the overstimulation only for him to grab them and put you into a mating press, giving your pussy slaps as your slick runs down his chin, chastising you for disrupting his meal :(((( his so mean!!!

“Darlin’, I’m gonna eat ya’ for as long as I want, look at ya’, stop bein’ such a selfish, selfish girl” 

Him tongue fucking you as you squirm and moan :((( his so proud of you when you listen to his countdown and cum on command >:(

“Alright baby, imma count down from three and ya gonna cum on my face when I tell you to, okay??” 

Si praising you through your orgasm :)))))

“S’ alright, there ya go, ride it out, grind on my face n’ ride it out baby, you did such a good job for me pretty girl, look at ya’ look at my perfect girl”

If he wasn’t sure he was going to marry you before, he knew he was going to marry you now ;) 

But lets talk about the engagement…..:3

Now, Simon isn’t a rich man, his an extremely good mechanic and an even better conman, but his not rich. His lucky enough to make a little over the average wage for someone in his line of work, but his not going to restaurants whenever he pleases, dropping money on whatever he wants, ect, ect, ect 

He absolutely goes to a pawn shop and buys your engagement ring, he pulls Johnny along with him stupidly thinking he would help��……he didn’t

“Mate, yer dinnae even know th’ lass, ye canny jus’ run off n’ marry her”

“Fuck off MacTavish, are ya’ coming or not?” 

There’s a common headcannon that Simon would propose with his mothers ring, I think that’s really cute but I don’t think Si would do that in this AU. Simon wants to propose with a ring he brought with his love, not a ring his father brought with the love he supposedly had for his mother. 

Every time he looks at your hand he wants to be reminded of his love for you, not the love his father had for his mum

He went in with a budget but blew it immediately :3 

How could he not? His beautiful baby deserves the best of the best and none of the other rings screamed at him the way the more expensive one did. 

It was feminine and gorgeous, he couldn’t take his eyes off it. It was so beautiful he wondered how a ring like that ended up in a place like this…….

It was just so you, he was getting that one. He didn’t give a fuck that he went over. He knew you would love it, the money didn’t matter, he’ll just pick up some extra shifts and work overtime ;)

He proposes the night he brought the ring. He wanted to do the whole rose petals leading you to the bedroom, candles on the nightstand, “will you marry me” balloons covering the bedroom floor thing but after he had you reverse cowgirl, big calloused hands around your waist as he slammed you onto his dick, so many orgasms in that he was shooting blanks and unable to hide his strained moans, he had no choice but to propose to you that night :(

After bathing in the afterglow, you laying on his chest with a thin layer of sweat covering your bodies, he gets up and rummages through his discarded clothes all over the floor finding the little square box he brought only hours before. 

Laying back against the headboard he opens the box and looks at you with the softest smile on his face 

“Just marry me darlin’, I promise to love ya forever n’ all that. Protect ya’ treat ya’ real nice, just let me love ya baby, come on”

His never been the most prim and proper man, but how could you say no to him? His voice was no louder then a soft whisper and you swore his eyes had a sparkle in them, lips tilted up in a slight smirk…..

That weekend you got married at the courthouse. Johnny was his best man, Price walked you down the aisle and Gaz was the witness. 

You wore a second hand wedding dress you found at the thrift store the night before, DIY-ing your hair and makeup. 

It wasn’t the most extravagant wedding of all time, but to Simon, the entire day was perfect.

And when he put that wedding ring on your finger? It was game over, he did it, you were, by some grace of god, officially his, and that made him absolutely feral. 

Everyone definitely went to the local dive bar to celebrate, Si being a regular, the owner was more then happy to move some tables around and create a little dace floor for your first dance :((((

Your wedding song was absolutely Stand By Me by Ben E King, IDC!!!! 

That’s literally all he asks from you, to be by his side, love him a little…..

Your head on his chest as you sway back and forth, it didn’t matter if a bunch of strangers and old drunks sat in the back watching, he was happy, he was dancing with his wife and he was happy ;)

His possessiveness somehow ramps up even more after you're married, especially while his fucking you :((((

As his driving back home from the bar, your hands slides down his slacks undoing the zipper. You gently start to pump his semi hard cock but he stops you….

“Nah, left hand lovie, wanna see ya’ wedding ring while ya’ stroke me” he’d mumble, grunting a little at the feeling of your cold gold band slide over his shaft :((

His new obsession is your left hand!!! When you got home all he wanted to do was fuck your pussy senseless but he controlled himself, making you lean up against the headboard and play with your cunt. :((((

Watching your rings slide in between your folds, around your clit and into your pussy as you moan his name and fail to keep eye contact with him :( you’re trying so hard but it just feels so good!! You’ve been waiting for hours!! Its not your fault you cant control yourself >:(

“Aye, don’t take ya’ eyes off me sweetheart, look at me, that’s a good girl” while he slowly stokes his cock, pre cum leaking from his tip >>:(

“Now tell me baby, who’s pussy is it, who owns your fuckin’ pussy princess?” He’d grunt while slowly walking closer to you, heavy cock still in his hands :( 

When he finally gets to you, he wants to savour the moment so baddddd :((( just giving you the tip then pulling out, watching your pussy clench around nothing >:( 

Sliding his cock between your folds, slapping your cunt with his hard dick :(

Doing everything but fucking you as he watches you squirm and beg for his cock, being the good obedient wife you are :)

He knows the second he pushes into you his not gonna be able to control himself for very long, his not trying to be mean!!! He just wants to remember the first time he fucked his wife

Not girlfriend or fiancée. no, his wife 

After teasing you for way longer then necessary he finally pushes in :3

His thrusts as slow and controlled but so deep and heavy, Si normally ruts into you like an animal but to night felt different :(

He didn’t try and hide his moans or make you cum as fast as humanly possible, he was taking his time with you :((( 

Big heavy balls slapping against your arse as he holds your left hand in his, wedding bands touching as each thrust somehow hits deeper, stretching your walls with a slight burn:))

Si’s pants were heavy as each thrust brought him closer to his release. He was trying so hard not to cum right then and there but the feeling of your nails scratching up his back, legs wrapped around his torso and hearing you moan his name was driving him wild >:(

“Fuckin’ hell baby, look at my gorgeous fuckin’ wife” he’d mumble into your lips between sloppy kisses, saliva connecting your lips as his voice started to get a little more strained :(

“Who ya married to darlin’ tell me who ya married too” his breaths are laboured and desperate as he reached down to rub your puffy, needy clit :((

His so in love with you, so obsessed and needy for you :3

You’d never seen him like this, completely pussy drunk and obsessed :(

He lets you cum before he finishes, shooting his hot load into your abused cunt, bloating your stomach :(((

 Letting out quite “fuck”’s between each lazy thrust before pulling out and watching his cum seep out of your cunt onto the bed sheets. 

Fuck his so lucky to have you :(( 

I'll be real with everyone, 99% of the time Mechanic!Simon is not this soft with you, he was just in his feels that night y'all!!!!

Request are open for Mechanic!Simon, I would love to hear your thoughts so feel free send them through and add to the AU.

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

Basic blog housekeeping -  fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

#Mechanic!Simon #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley imagines #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley imagine #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon riley x y/n #ghost call of duty #cod headcanons #fanfiction #fanfic #cod au

[lovelyhan]

enemies to lovers prompt #10 "I'm not driving home with you..." with mingyu, thx <3

— vices & virtues ⟢

being from one of the most opulent families in the city, you're used to getting everything you want. but when you realize that your hot bodyguard is strictly off-limits, you treat him like anything else you can't have: with unbridled hostility.

★ FEATURING; bodyguard!mingyu x reader

★ WORD COUNT; 5.4k words

★ TAGS; enemies to lovers, unresolved sexual tension, smut

★ WARNINGS; alcohol consumption, cigarettes, implied/referenced drug use, self-destructive behavior in general, (probably inaccurate) discussions about drug poisoning, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; when i tell you i speedwrote this just in time for mingyu day,,, eugh i love you so much gyugyu and thank you to the anon who sent this in a while back!! this prompt was so tasty to work with!

★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, couch sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, dacryphilia, size kink, mating press, overstimulation, creampie

★ SVT TAGLIST; @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex - @stariightjoyy - @asjkdk - @horny4hoshi

★ MINGYU TAGLIST; @ @renjunphile - @acgyu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pluviophile-xxx - @pretty-trustme - @zeenanigans - @noveniadelia

When the tiniest sliver of consciousness slips into your inebriated brain, you feel the cold tile of the bathroom floor being pried off your face. Well, more like you're being gently lifted off it, and into the arms of someone warm.

You nearly lean into their embrace until you catch a whiff of that familiar, musky cologne with hint of something like pine. It takes you some effort to keep yourself from bolting out of his grasp and retching your guts out in the toilet again.

You deign to squint your eyes despite the harsh fluorescent light razing your vision. Looking down on you is none other than Kim Mingyu, gaze as indifferent as ever. Unfortunately, you're too drunk or high to figure out how he even found you here, but you know there's no weaseling your way out when your father's little lapdog has tracked you down.

"What're you doing here?" you still ask even if you knew the answer.

It's my job to take care of you.

"It's my job to take care of you," he says the words in the same way you imagined him to—apathetic. Indecipherable.

"Fuck you. I don't need you to take care of me," you scoff. "My friends'll drop me off at my apartment like they always do."

Mingyu rolls his eyes. "You mean the same friends who called me because they're tired of having to clean up after your shit? I don't want to be here either, princess, but I'm actually getting paid to keep you in line, if you hadn't known that yet."

There's something so unfairly attractive in the snark in his tone, and you fucking hate him for it. Mostly, you hate yourself for even thinking that anything about Mingyu is remotely alluring.

In the end, you just tell yourself that you're an objective person. You have eyes, and it won't cost anything to admit that Mingyu is conventionally attractive. Even if you did hate his guts.

Not that he'll ever hear you admit that aloud, though.

You're vaguely aware of how the hem of your too-short dress rides up your thighs as Mingyu rises back to his full height—having no problems carrying you out of the bathroom bridal-style.

Under normal circumstances, you would've struggled. Proved that you could very much handle yourself despite being obviously hammered. But your head is spinning, and your limbs feel like they'll disintegrate any second.

Eyes closed, you press your face into the fine fabric of Mingyu's suit—breathing in the same scent that repulsed you not five minutes earlier in an attempt at anchoring your consciousness.

As Mingyu maneuvers you out of the bathroom, the loud bass blaring from the speakers at the frat party you've decided to attend last minute rings in your eardrums. You don't have to see your surroundings to know you've got onlookers. Those unsubtle comments are clue enough to know you're being watched.

Who is that? Her boyfriend?

No, idiot, that's probably her bodyguard or some shit. Her family's loaded as fuck.

So lucky. If I had a bodyguard like that, I'd totally let him smash.

The real question is: would he let you smash?

Fuck you.

You want to flash them the most disgusted look you could muster. As if you'd stoop low enough to fuck Mingyu, of all people. Don't they know who you are? You could easily let any man or woman you wanted on their knees for you.

You were supposed to stick to your regular routine of getting railed into the next day after a few drinks and sticks, but you obviously got a little too excited about the new strains your friends snuck into the party. Now you're being princess carried by a man you absolutely despise, too shit-faced to even be remotely desired by anyone else at the moment.

Still, never in a million years would you consider having this guy as a bodyguard lucky.

You can tell you're outside when the music starts to fade in the distance and the cold starts to prickle your legs and arms. A somewhat coherent part of you recalls leaving your designer jacket in the coatrack of the frat house, and if you weren't so fucking shit-faced, you would've yelled at Mingyu to go back and get it.

But just before you can consider asking him somewhat nicely, you hear him unlock a car that definitely doesn't sound like yours—making your ears perk up, and your consciousness flood back in much faster.

"What are you—?"

You thrash in Mingyu's arms until he lets you down on the ground—throwing him a stone-cold glare right after. The fact that your pedicured feet are in direct contact with the asphalt makes your rage spike further. How dare this asshole leave your Valentinos behind? He might as well have just left you at the party altogether!

"I'm not driving home with you," you growl.

Mingyu's expression doesn't even budge. "You're not driving. I am."

"Don't try to be fucking smart with me. I'm high, not stupid."

Folding your arms across your chest, you try to pretend that you're not in the middle of the street, arguing with Mingyu as your blood pressure rises to unimaginable heights.

Unfortunately for you, this isn't the first time your friends have left you in the quote-unquote capable hands of your bodyguard. But every time he did, he would always drive whatever car you chose to bring for the occasion and drop you off at your place.

When he brings a car of his own, however...

"You're bringing me straight to the old man," you grumble. "You think he'll appreciate seeing his daughter all wasted at three in the morning? You think he'll be happy with you when he finds out you let me sneak out like this? Are you stupid or do you actually want to get fired?"

"And who told you I was going to bring you to him?" Mingyu shakes his head, letting out a long-winded sigh. "Like I said, I don't want to be here either. The last thing I need is even more overtime after your father sets you straight."

That makes you pause, eyes widening with a hint of mistrust. Mingyu listens to every word his employer says. He's the perfect little lapdog. So perfect that sneaking out for these nightly escapades of yours have grown increasingly difficult with how good he is at finding you and bringing you home.

So hearing him practically say that he won't tattle on you...

"How can I be sure you're not fucking with me? That if I fall asleep in the car, I won't wake up in the courtyard of the old man's stupid mansion?"

"Do I look like I have the energy to deal with both of you at the same time?" he replies sharply, opening the door to the passenger seat with a hint of finality in his actions. "Just get in the fucking car so we can all head to bed before sunrise."

The sound of the house party still in full swing echoes in your ears from the distance. Your skin tingles a little beneath the heat of Mingyu's mildly pissed off gaze, and you let out a shuddering breath to keep yourself from giving the feeling a name.

"Fine."

...

Good news: you made it safely back to your apartment without anyone alerting your father about your true whereabouts.

Bad news: Mingyu just won't fucking leave.

He insisted that you get yourself refreshed with a shower first before he talks to you in the living room. The same guy that right-out said that you should hop in the passenger seat of his car so you'd both be asleep before the sun rises. The clock is already pushing past four in the morning, and Mingyu still insists on lecturing you before he leaves?

You of all people know how obstinate he can be. He's even more stubborn than you are, if you're being completely honest. So even if it wounds your pride to play along with what he has planned, you head back to your living room right after slipping on your usual nightgown—flashing Mingyu a look to remind him you're not at all pleased with whatever bullshit he wants to talk about.

However, your irritation ebbs a little when you see a plate of your favorite cookies sitting on the coffee table, along with a glass of water and a sheet of Advil.

Your gaze drifts from the snacks to your bodyguard, who looks more dressed down than usual. His coat is folded neatly, hanging off one side of your couch, and the first three buttons of his dress shirt are undone.

You gulp, prying your eyes off the sliver of chest he's willingly exposed before seating a respectable distance away.

"What did you want to talk about?" You try to sound casual as you leaned forward, reaching for a cookie and the glass of water without as much initiating eye contact.

"You smoked a few joints at the party, didn't you?"

You take a bite, washing it down with your drink before replying with, "So what if I did? A little kush isn't going to kill anybody, Mingyu."

"We both know 'a little' doesn't exist in your vocabulary, princess," he points out, crossing his arms with an unimpressed look. "Anyway, I'm not your father, so I typically don't care about what drugs you're taste testing every night—"

"Are you implying that you suddenly care now?"

"With a new poisonous marijuana strain circulating in the underground market? Of course I do."

You do a double take on that, staring at him hard as you begrudgingly swallow your cookie, "What? Underground market? And what do you mean poisonous?"

Mingyu lets out another sigh when he leans forward to reach for the box of cigarettes and a lighter you left strewn across your coffee table. You're even more surprised to see him lighting himself a stick and taking a drag than you were when he prepared some snacks and water for you.

"Some Columbian drug cartels thought it would be funny to infiltrate surface-level drug transactions. Long story short, they invented some fucked up strain laced with belladonna and smuggled it into the market under the impression that it's a new sativa strain."

You absolutely have no idea how Mingyu even got ahold of this information, but realizing the implication of his words has your stomach sinking with dread. If what he's saying is true, it's no wonder you were out so fucking quick tonight.

"I'm not gonna die within twenty four hours, right?" you half-joke because, Jesus, you're adventurous with your drugs, but you wouldn't willingly take something that can actually kill you.

To your relief, Mingyu shakes his head. "I don't know the science behind it either, but I was told sativa tones down the poisonous effect of belladonna by a huge margin. The worst you'll experience is a fever and a nasty cough if you don't do anything about it."

"Gee, way to be reassuring."

Mingyu scoffs before taking another drag of his cigarette. Your gaze is riveted on the cut of his jaw as he inhales the smoke with eyes closed. It's only when he flicks the ashes in a small ashtray you left by the small table beside the couch that you realize he's pushed the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows—exposing a good deal of his toned arms.

You immediately take a huge gulp of water, not wanting such unsavory thoughts about an unsavory person to surface now, of all times.

You might be more refreshed after your shower, but if you're starting to ogle Kim Mingyu, the strange joints you've been hitting all night might've messed with your head more than you thought.

"That's why we're going to the doctor tomorrow—"

You scowl. "Like hell I'm going to pay Doctor Yoon a visit. That guy's the biggest tattletale in the world. He'll definitely tell the old man. Oh, and I actually have classes tomorrow if you're forgetting, Mingyu."

"You're pretending to attend those now that it's convenient for you?" He smirks as he breathes out another puff of smoke. "Nice try, princess. But don't worry your pretty little head about it. I'll take you to another doctor I know—someone who won't get us both in trouble by telling your father that you've been smoking bad weed."

"Again, way to be fucking reassuring."

The silence finally settles as you nibble contemplatively on the snacks he brought for you. You're can say for sure that you're most certainly sober now, so Mingyu's words have got you thinking.

But it's a little difficult to think about the state of your health when you've got a sort-of uninvited guest manspreading right next to you on the couch.

"Aren't you going to leave?" you ask. "Just text me what time we're going to visit that doctor friend of yours."

"How would you feel if you got told to scram while you're in the middle of a smoke?" Mingyu flashes you an annoyed look. "For the third time, I don't even want to be here, princess. At least let me have this as compensation for saving your sorry ass."

He's so fucking infuriating.

The rough undercurrent in his voice. The perpetual upward curve of his lips as if he always has the upper hand. His beefy arms. His built chest.

...Not to mention his unexpected thoughtfulness when he decided to stick around and inform you about what you might've gotten yourself into instead of leaving you to fend for yourself. He even brought out your favorite cookies for good measure.

You never really know what to do with Kim fucking Mingyu. He stirs up all sorts of confusing feelings inside your chest at any given time, and frankly, you've had enough of it.

You allow yourself to relish in the pride that swells in your chest when he nearly drops his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray the moment you crawl on top of his lap.

Mingyu's mouth quivers with some sensible words his job description probably requires him to say, but you rob him of his ability to speak when you steal the cancer stick from his fingers. In one long breath, you smoke the cigarette down to the filter—killing it on your ashtray before leaning down to press your lips to his.

With how stunned he is, it doesn't take a lot of effort to pry Mingyu's mouth open, breathing the smoke into his mouth. Once you're satisfied, you pull away with a triumphant smirk.

"Now you're done," you say, making the motions to get off his lap. "I'm heading to bed. Don't wake me up before noon for that doctor's appointment or else I'm going to slash your ti—"

You don't even get to finish that sentence. Mingyu suddenly flips you over so that your back is pressed against the couch and he's lying on top of you—both knees planted on either side of your hips as he gazes at you with an ireful glare.

"W-What are you doing?" you whisper, but in spite of the protesting nature of your words, you can't help but feel a pang of white hot desire shoot straight through you when you feel just how big he is now that his body is pressed against yours.

"Teaching a bad girl a lesson," he whispers, grabbing your face roughly. "You can't just pull off shit like that and expect to walk away from it unscathed, princess."

Fuck. That nickname he always uses never fails to get on your nerves on any other day. But when he sounds like that and has you under him like this...

"What are you gonna do about it then?" you ask.

Mingyu chuckles darkly, as he squishes your face with his big, long fingers. You nearly shudder at the thought of what those digits could do to you if you just pushed the right buttons.

"You'll just have to fuck around and find out."

When the pressure of his strong grip leaves your cheeks, confusion paints your features. Mingyu's weight eases off your pliant body almost immediately as well, leaving you to scowl at him incredulously. He doesn't even look at you as he collects his coat from where it hangs off your couch.

But before he can even think about putting it back on, something not so different from a growl resonates deep in your chest as you sit back up—tugging on the collar of his shirt to smash your lips together.

Mingyu all but groans into the kiss, but you're not sure if you can even call it that. There's nothing but hunger fueling the both of you as your tongue slides alongside his, mapping out each other's mouths like your lives depended on it.

You vaguely hear his coat fall to the floor as Mingyu goes back to crowding you against the couch—one of his strong arms circling your waist as he grinds his hips against your middle. It's nearly embarrassing how willing you are to receive his advances.

You, the same person who told your bodyguard you refused to drive home with him, are now making out with said bodyguard at four in the morning.

But then again, who fucking cares?

"You have no idea," he whispers hoarsely against your lips and you let out a stifled moan when you feel the outline of his erection rut against your clothed pussy, "how much you drive me insane. You're such a fucking handful, you know that?"

"I'm glad to know I make your life miserable," you bite back despite the fact that, when Mingyu brings down the straps of your nightgown to expose your breasts to the cool air, you do nothing about it.

Mingyu lets out a harsh laugh. "You're probably into this, aren't you, princess? You like riling me up so much so that I'd snap and teach you a lesson?"

You want to tell him that he's being fucking full of himself if he thinks you've planned this that far back. But with how massive he feels through his trousers alone, you can't say that you don't want him inside you right this second.

It doesn't help that he's giving your chest a generous amount of attention—suckling at your nipples in a way that has you twitching beneath him with sensitivity.

"So what if I am?" you say, testing the limits of what he'll let you get away with. "You talk big about teaching me a lesson but you're being awfully careful with me. Aren't you going to shove your cock down my throat to get me to shut up?"

Mingyu chuckles with a quick shake of his head, like he isn't even taking your words seriously. You let out a sharp yelp when he bites down on one of your breasts—leaving a distinct imprint of his canines on your skin before staring into your eyes.

"I can choke you with my cock next time, princess. For now, I just want to make you come until you're crying for me."

Fuck.

Mingyu wastes no time. He immediately sinks to his knees on the floor, hauling your hips closer to the edge of the couch so that he can hook your thighs over his shoulders. When he realizes that you're not wearing any underwear underneath your flimsy satin nightgown, you swear the noise he makes is near animalistic.

"Don't get f-fucking cocky," you stammer, nerves alight everywhere his lips graze your inner thighs. "I don't usually wear underwear before going to sleep! This wasn't for you."

"It is now," Mingyu says before licking a long stripe from your leaking hole to your aching clit. He holds your thighs far apart as his lips latch onto that little bundle of nerves, alternating with delicious licks at your sensitive folds.

He practically smothers his face into your cunt as he continues his relentless assault on your clit. By the time Mingyu starts to tease his tongue along your entrance, your fingers have found their way into his unruly hair—moans falling from your lips with little concern about appearances.

Mingyu pulls away for a moment, and you nearly snap at him from that alone until he eases one of those thick fingers into your wet channel—dark eyes trained on you as he stretches you out with a hungry gaze.

You don't even feel any semblance of shame when you start to ride that single digit, wanting to feel him go deeper and spread you wider. Fortunately, your bodyguard is more attentive than you think, and it doesn't take long for him to ease another finger into your needy pussy, curling them just so once he's sure he's found that spot that'll render you an incoherent mess.

The sound he rips out of you is unholy and Mingyu growls again before his mouth finds its way back onto your cunt—getting lost in the taste of you on his tongue.

"Where's the fight you've been putting up against me all this time, princess?" he taunts just before those stupidly thick fingers graze that sensitive patch of flesh inside you again. "Are you that desperate? You've fucked yourself up so much tonight that you couldn't bring anyone back home. Your bodyguard's gonna have to do, huh?"

You know you should be affronted by how offensive his words are. Mingyu might be an expert at getting on your nerves, but with how good his fucking mouth feels as he laves at your cunt like a man starved, you can't even let yourself feel any modicum of annoyance.

"M-Mingyu," you gasp as he suckles on your clit again—steadily building your orgasm from the ground-up. "I'm gonna come, f-fuck!"

Three. Mingyu slides in three fingers at your admission, and you nearly cry with how wide he's stretching you out. This time, he switches from sucking at your clit to rapidly flicking his tongue against the sensitive pearl.

Your toes curl with oversensitivity, thighs nearly crushing his head as you frame the syllables of his name in another wanton moan. When Mingyu curls his fingers inside you one more time, the tension that's been building in your stomach snaps like a rubber band.

Once you teeter off the precarious edge of release, you feel a gush of slick surge out of your cunt and into his awaiting mouth. Mingyu laps it all up—his sinful tongue catching every drop of your tangy essence. If you didn't know better, you would think he's desperate for you as much as you are for him.

It takes a while for your mind to fully come back online after that first orgasm, chest heaving almost painfully with how Mingyu took your breath away with oral alone. When you finally have your wits about you, your bodyguard surges forward so that your faces are levelled, and you nearly groan when you see the way his mouth and chin glisten with your juices.

"So fucking delicious for me," he rasps. "Gonna let me have a taste of this pussy every time now, princess? Want my mouth on you before you sleep?

"Do whatever you want, Gyu," you mewl, tugging him closer as you position yourself horizontally on the couch. "N-Need you so bad."

He sighs, unbuttoning the rest of his dress shirt as he drinks in the sight of you all fucked out and compliant because of his mouth and fingers alone. Your lips are parted, eyes glistening with tears or desire—Mingyu can't say for sure just yet.

But if he can get you this wrecked from oral, he can't fucking wait to see what you'll look like after he gets you to cream on his cock.

His shirt falls to the floor and you can't contained the awed gasp that leaves you at the sight of him. He's built like a fucking sculpture—all lean muscle and hard toned abs. It would make sense for Mingyu to be this well-built, being your bodyguard and all, but the thought of having his body pressed against yours as he fucks you into the couch is sending your mind into overdrive.

"You're so adorable," he chuckles, but you know the words are anything but a compliment. "A moment ago you were challenging everything I said and did. Now you're suddenly an agreeable little thing. Are you that cock-hungry, princess? Want something to fill that pretty pussy?"

"Yes." You don't even hesitate. "Yes, yes, yes. Want your cock in me. Want you to fill me up, Gyu. Please..."

Fortunately for you, Mingyu isn't one to tease. The moment you've given him the green light to rearrange your insides, he steps out of his tight trousers and boxers at the same time, pumping his thick cock in one hand as he nudges your thighs apart once again.

You practically salivate at the thought that you're about to take all those delicious inches inside you. Mingyu doesn't miss the starry look on your face, but doesn't take the time to gloat about it. Instead, he leans all the way forward so that your thighs are squished against your chest—easing your legs across his shoulders in a position that's not so different from when he ate you out earlier.

"Gonna fuck the attitude out of you, princess," he promises before pressing a kiss on the corner of your mouth. "You ready for me?"

You nod a little too eagerly, forcing his face into the crook of your neck as you wrap your arms around his head. "Gyu, please..."

"Alright. Since you asked so nicely."

He doesn't even give any forewarning when he bottoms out inside you in one languid stroke. A choked up noise gets caught in your chest with how sudden he was, how full you feel in such a short amount of time, but Mingyu doesn't give you any time to think, or even to breathe.

Before you can even get a single word out, he's pulling his hips back—making you feel every inch of his thick cock before slamming his hips forward with a powerful thrust that drives you further into the sofa. You let out a long-winded moan, unable to do anything about it as he pounds into you with the vigor of someone who's been putting up with your shit for a better part of the year.

"Pussy's so fucking tight for me," he growls. "You're squeezing my cock so good, princess. Is this all I had to do so you'd stop driving me crazy? Eat you out a little and dick you down 'til you forget your name?"

You can't even process what he's saying right now—too lost in the sensation of his cockhead grazing your cervix with each forward stroke. He's reaching into you so deep that you might really just forget everything but the letters of Mingyu's name by the time he's done with you.

"M-Mingyu," you drawl dumbly as he peppers your neck with bites and bruises—unrelenting with his deep strokes as your cunt flutters around his length. "Fuck. L-Love your cock so much—oh!"

You let out a gasp that Mingyu quickly muffles with his own mouth as he adjusts your positions on the sofa—easing your legs off of his shoulders in exchange for spreading them wider on the cushions. How he manages to do that without his cock slipping out of you is a testament to your flexibility, and he's already cooking up what he'll do about that information for next time.

Mingyu continues kissing you all while he plants one foot on the couch and the other on the floor. When he tugs your hips even closer it's only then that you realize that the lunatic has you in a mating press.

"How long have you been thinking about me fucking you like this?" he whispers, deciding to drag it out with slow, deep thrusts that only serve to frustrate you. "You wouldn't have let me go this far if you hadn't thought about it at least once, princess."

I've wanted to fuck you since the old man introduced us, is the correct answer but you've still got some shred of dignity. If Mingyu wants the truth, he's going to have to work for it.

"Fuck me again after this, and I might give you an answer," you rasp, meeting his lazy thrusts with some of your own to get the point that you want him to ram into you across.

"There she is," Mingyu laughs. "My nasty, sharp-tongued princess. Thought I lost you for a sec."

"You will if you don't fuck me until I black out."

"Oh? All you had to do was ask, you know."

Then and there, Mingyu makes good of that interesting position he'd unknowingly lured you into—plunging that fat cock even deeper into your pussy if that's even possible. It felt heavenly, taking all of him while your legs dangled off his shoulders, but there's just something about having your legs spread impossibly wide as he drills into you with the full intention of making you come until you're crying that does it for you.

As each second passes, Mingyu's thrusts become more erratic—hips snapping with hard, calculated strokes so fucking good that tears are starting to glisten along the lines of your lashes like he promised.

You mewl his name like a string of prayers as the sound of your cunt squelching with every thrust rings in your ears. It's insane how close he's driven you to the edge in the span of thirty minutes, and you're starting to grow fearful of how addicting it feels to have him inside you like this.

At this point, you'd rather get off on Mingyu's cock than get high from some shady sativa joint. Something tells you he'd rather have that, too.

"Where do you want me, princess?" he whispers into your ear, reaching between your legs to give you just the right pressure you've been missing on your clit. You have to bite back a sob when he presses his thumb against it.

"Inside," you whimper as he continues plunging his engorged length into you. "Fill me with your cum, please, Gyu. I want it—want it so bad."

Mingyu hisses when you clench around his cock, large hands undoubtedly about to leave bruises on your thighs come morning. When you hear that deep, sexy laugh in your ear, you know it's all over for you.

"Come on my cock first, princess. Then I'll give you what you want."

He punctuates the words by drawing quick, tight circles on your clit all while keeping up the cadence of his thrusts. With the steady stream of stimulation he's so willing to give, it's a no-brainer for another orgasm to blindside you yet again.

You cry out with bliss as you screw your eyes shut—tears running down your cheeks in cascades as you fall apart on Mingyu's cock. He fucks into you despite the overstimulation, his own high not far behind because of the expression you're showing him.

"That's it," he rasps, leaning down to kiss the tears away. "Fucking cry for me, princess."

You're not sure if you're just too blissed out to comprehend it properly, but you're pretty sure that Mingyu just triggered another orgasm from you when you feel him twitch inside—your tight channel being covered in his white hot emission.

It doesn't help that your insatiable lover continues to fuck his cum deeper into your abused cunt, taking full advantage of this position while he can.

"M-Mingyu," you beg, fingers raking across his back as he punches the breath out of your lungs. "Too much. T-Too much."

You thought he wouldn't heed your words, but surprisingly, Mingyu halts every movement to gaze at you with a hint of concern lining his gaze. Wordlessly, he eases himself out of your sore cunt, wiping the tears off your eyes before pressing a kiss on your lips.

"Sorry," he murmurs before gently fixing the straps of your nightgown. He even tugs the hem down despite the fact that his cum is currently leaking out of you. "You want me to tuck you in?"

You nod, lacing your fingers around his neck, the overstimulated mess you are. Mingyu breathes out a quiet laugh before carrying you into his arms again.

"Alright, princess. Let's get you to bed."

You don't have the heart nor the energy to protest. Besides, it's his job to take care of you, after all.

⟢ end notes: reminder to not take any of the medical indications abt drugs that i included in this fic seriously. i made all of those up. oh and this should go w/o saying but don't fuck anyone while under the influence of anything AT ALL !!!

that aside, happy birthday to everyone's favorite puppy boy mingyu! i ended up loving him a lot more as i stanned svt, and i hope everyone else gives him the same love as well! god knows he has lots to give to both his members and his fans ueueue

++ if you spotted a few errors here and there, please don't tell me or i'll die of embarrassment ^_^ this wasn't proofread bcs i wanted to drop this exactly on his bday (i am 1 hour and 34 mins late!) HEHEHE i was sposed to write an ending scene in the morning where gyu wakes up and sees her wearing his shirt while making breakfast but that'll make this too long :| i'll just leave that to ur imagination!

#seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu #svt smut #svt fanfic #lovelyhan #🎲 ask games #full length fic 📚 #💭 request

[taylorswiftstylequestions]

I had a similar reaction on first listen—my gut was like HOW could she write such touching things about THAT 🤮 MAN🤮 but as I’ve sat with it, the touching things are all about the idea of him! And there are glimpses of her being in deep denial delulu (see: I can fix him, “no I’m not coming to my senses!”). I also think back on her time POTY quote “I respond to extreme pain with defiance.” It’s so hard to see something for what it is in the middle of it. Esp if it would unravel a belief system!

I feel like a lot of people find this album particularly hard to digest because they get stuck on the thought of these song's purported muses and their preconceived opinions about them and can't get past their discomfort in how this art sprung from those sources.

And that hurdle is just the first in a long line of subtext in these songs that inherently make Poets an album that you have to sit with. This album is not meant to be digested easily or quickly.

She's manic and an unreliable storyteller. But the feelings she's expressing really did happen to her and she truly sincerely believed in the moment. And even when she was in it, everything was still built up in her head as this idealized fulfillment of the 'fate' storyline she'd told herself she deserved and was finally living out. Sex is intimacy. And then it's not even very good or actually really intimate. Nothing is happening the way she thought. Everything she ever told herself since she was a little girl about fairytales and love is fucking fake. Maybe this is happening to you because you're a monster. If I keep trying to be good and perform I can get it back. Why did I leave him for ... him? Why did he then leave me? Did anyone ever really love me? Do I love myself? What does this even say about me as a person? I really am fucked up and horrible. What was I thinking? How could I have believed any of that? Am I crazy?

And on and on and on.

Literally more than any other album Taylor has written do you have to not just listen to the words she's saying but contextualize the circumstances she's saying them in and how she might even feel about them now.

And if you don't like it I can't emphasize enough how okay that is.

#tss ttpd party

[aphrogeneias]

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x manager's daughter!reader

summary: eddie has hit rock bottom. it's been a long time coming. there's only one person who can help him, but he hasn't thought of her in a long time.

word count: 3.3k

content warnings: mentions of drinking and drugs (licit and illicit), and issues with the excess of both. brief mention of a small injury.

series masterlist / taglist is open!

The first thing Eddie ever noticed about you was your laugh. It was your most striking feature.

It commanded a room. It said everything there was to say about you. Loud, unabashed, not scared to call attention. The kind of laughter that makes you throw your head back, the kind that makes everything funnier. Impossible to miss.

He heard it, clear as a bell, across the hall from your father’s office, the first time he walked through the halls of that office building, shoulder to shoulder with his friends and bandmates, ready to sign Corroded Coffin’s first ever major deal.

A lot of firsts in one day. Too many life changing circumstances. The first fallen domino in a long, crumbling chain.

He can still see it all. The outdated, 1970s wallpaper and carpet, creams and oranges and swirls. The tour posters and platinum records littering the walls. The smell of cigarettes and hardwood floor wax coming from his future manager’s office as they went in. Into the lion’s den, wide eyed boys with hands that trembled too much for a confident handshake.

The girl sitting on top of the big office table, laughing at her father’s jokes. He couldn't hear what he told you just before they came in, but it seemed like an intimate moment. Father and daughter, their own world.

That laughter, though. It caught him by surprise. It shook the entire room. She barely spared them a glance as they were ushered in, and climbed down with a kind of feline grace. Her hair bounced behind her as she walked away, hurriedly blowing a kiss back at the man behind the desk.

Expensive perfume, the glint of golden jewelry on her skin, the sway of her hips just before the door closed behind her. His eyes struggled with tearing themselves off the door that hid her from him.

The first time he saw you. You, you, you.

Eddie Munson had never met anyone like you. He wasn't sure he ever would — and he was right, after all.

CHATEAU MARMONT HOTEL, LOS ANGELES, 1990

The sound of the telephone wakes him up.

He doesn’t know when he’s gone to bed, has no memory of it, but he can feel the toll last night took on his body. His tired body drags itself across the mattress, and the first thing Eddie notices is that he’s naked. The second is that the phone is still ringing.

Reaching out, his face hits the pillow once more, smushing his cheek against it as he grabs the receiver and pulls it to his ear. “Munson residence. Edwin speaking.”

“Where the fuck were you, man?”

The voice on the other side of the line sounds like Jeff, but Eddie’s never heard him quite like this. On the verge of tears, but maybe his still drunk brain is playing tricks on him. He doesn’t need to look around to know that the room is a mess. There’s a sheet on the floor, and a bottle of booze on his field of vision, and another at the side table next to the phone. Both empty.

He’s just glad he didn’t wake up to someone next to him in bed.

“What do you mean, where were you? At the hotel, I think. You were here too.”

“Last night, Eddie. We waited for you. Where were you? We thought you were dead.”

Last night. He didn’t remember last night. A rooftop, a pool, a sunset. Too many bottles, too many pills. A girl putting something on his tongue while she sat on his lap, and shutting his jaw closed with a delicate hand. Tripping on lounge chairs, falling on the pool. Blood on his knees. Someone dragging him up and into the elevator.

“What day is it?” He mumbles.

A record label party in their honor, to follow the success of their fourth album. Followed by a… concert.

A concert.

All that comes from the other side of the line is a drawn out sigh. “They’re sending someone to go get you. I hope you get your shit together until then.”

Then, it goes silent.

The concert.

Stumbling on himself, Eddie tries to stand up, and falls. The memory of his skinned knees comes as quickly as the pain does, and he notices they’re bare, still bleeding a little. He finds his underwear on the floor, next to the rest of his clothes, and slips them on as he moves towards the door, propping himself up on the wall.

He yanks the door open, and sprints through the hall as best as he can, catching the attention of one of the maids, who he promptly stops in front of, suddenly much too aware of his own nakedness. She freezes, trying to keep her eyes on his face.

“What day is it?”

A lump grows on his throat. His own voice sounds foreign, like it’s coming from someplace else.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“What day is it? Today, what’s the date?”

“It’s the 17th. August 17.”

All he can do is nod, and make his back to his room as if the world hadn’t just fallen from his feet.

A day too late.

THE RAINBOW BAR & GRILL, SUNSET BOULEVARD, LOS ANGELES, SUMMER 1987

“Pinch me.”

There had been plenty of “pinch me” moments in those last few weeks. Eddie wasn't sure what Gareth meant, though, as he sat straighter against the cushion of their booth.

It was dark inside, and every surface gleamed red. From the cherry red booths to the bottles on the bar shelves, the dark wood on the walls, the chandeliers. He couldn't tell most people's faces, and they'd probably wanted it that way.

The line to get inside was turning the corner, the people there having a party within themselves, under the lights of Sunset Boulevard. It was loud, and bright, everywhere they went. Eddie thrived around it all.

He'd never felt more alive in his twenty-one years than in the months he had spent here.

The younger boy scooted closer to him, a glass of something colorful in hand. Courtesy of one of the girls whose booth he'd been sitting on until now, surely. Not he'd blame him, he'd lost count of the glasses he had himself, feeling light in his seat.

“Fucking”, the drummer hit him in the arm, pupils taking over the blue in his eyes, “pinch me, man!”

“What the fuck for?” He laughed at his friend’s tone.

“Do you see that?”

Gareth pointed forward to a booth a couple of tables from them. It was full, with mostly women, their teased up hair and flashy clothes demanding all the attention. As his friend pointed out, some of them looked over to them, waving with delicate fingers. Eddie waved back, throwing in a wink for good measure.

He'd easily feel intimidated with those eyes on him, but the alcohol in his body threw those inhibitions away.

“Those girls,” Gareth continued, “those beautiful girls, invited us to a private party at their apartment.”

Eddie nodded along while Gareth emphasized the words private and apartment. As if their intentions weren't obvious from the beginning of the night. He could see Grant on his seat, soaking up the attention from a blonde girl with her hand on his shoulder, and Jeff standing to the side, deep in conversation with a guy in a similar black leather jacket.

From afar, none of it looked real.

If he was being honest, he never thought he'd be living his father’s life this soon — or ever. Eddie wondered about it all the time. What was Al Munson doing when his mother was reading him to sleep back in Nashville, or later, when his uncle was working the late night shift to get both of them by.

The fame, the contacts, the booze, the money. The women. The more he learned, the less he knew.

All Eddie knew was that he promised himself he'd never turn out like his old man, a promise he'd made himself a long time ago, long before he landed in the City of Angels, but seeing what he'd seen in the small amount of time he'd spent there, he wondered if that was really possible.

Corruption seemed tempting, inevitable even, amongst the red and maroons of The Rainbow. Demons, sirens, and the small town boys drawn to them. Hell itself, in disguise.

“And,” Gareth continued, putting his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, grinning at him, “they asked me to call you over.”

Just as he thought. Tempting. Matching his friend’s grin, Eddie reached over to his arm and pinched it, hard. Gareth’s subsequent yelp was dulled by the loud music and chatting, and Eddie only grinned harder when the boy went for him.

They wrestled for a bit until the drummer pulled him from his seat and up, teasing him, “C’mon, man. You need to get laid”.

“You need to get laid! You're the one who's been begging for that secretary’s number. What’s her name again? J-”

He stopped on his tracks, pulling Gareth with him by his t-shirt.

While he was talking and his eyes were running across the bar, unable to pay attention to just one thing at once, he saw a familiar sitting in a booth at the other side of the room. A girl near his age, a familiar face.

She was sitting facing his way, beside a guy who had his arm around her shoulder. He looked slightly out of place in his neat black sweater and Ray-Ban glasses pushing his hair back. They looked expensive, the pair of them. Untouchable, in their own bubble.

They were talking to a girl who had her back to him, all Eddie could see was the back of her head, a blonde bob shaking as she gestured with her hands, wrapped in white lace gloves and gleaming silver rings.

The girl laughed, throwing her head back and into her friend’s — boyfriend’s? — shoulder and, in that moment, he knew exactly who she was.

Eddie’s vision tunneled, and he could hear Gareth beside him, whining for him to hurry up. He pushed his friend away, making a sign for him to go on without him.

Gareth rolled his eyes, mumbling something he did not understand — he might have told him he'd come later, but Eddie was too busy with his eyes on your table to decipher what came out of his own mouth.

As he approached with unsure steps, the sudden confidence that overtook him only lasting half of the way, until he saw your male friend — he wasn't about to think of him as your boyfriend, not yet, he needed to have some hope — and the girl stand.

He watched as the guy dragged his hand from your shoulder, to your elbow, and finally held your hand in his, leaving a kiss there before accompanying his other friend to the bar. Something burned and wilted inside of him, an ugly feeling he couldn't quite place.

That's my moment, Eddie thought, as he did before every single impulsive decision he ever took — and there wasn't a shortage of them.

His worn down boots, which in hindsight might once have been Wayne’s, carried him to your table. Your borderline bored stare made you even prettier from up close, as he tried to open his mouth and figure out what to say.

Instead, he could just watch as you drowned back the rest of your drink, and reached into your purse to light a cigarette. “What are you looking at?”, you asked, without looking at him yet.

His mouth opened and closed, like a fish out of water, before gathering himself. “You're Ace’s daughter, aren't you? I saw you at his office.”

“Yes, and you're one of the label’s new hires who's still at that phase they're not ashamed to kiss ass.”

Finally, you turned, blowing the smoke in his direction. He barely felt it, really, because he was more focused on your smile, and the way your glossy lips stretched, and your nose scrunched.

Normally, he would have been pissed. But, with that face, you must have been used to stepping on people's toes and not getting heat because of it. He'd let you blow smoke directly on his face if it meant you'd keep looking at him.

You gestured vaguely to the seat in front of you, and he took the message. “Maybe. Am I kissing the right ass?” He grinned as he sat down.

No ring on your finger, he noticed, and maybe it was a good sign. He could be unbothered too. With the right amount of madness and a little Munson Magic, he could leave here with your number.

“I dunno.” You shrugged, but grinned back. “I'll have you know my ass is very demanding.”

“Noted.” He feigned seriousness. “I’m Eddie.”

“Munson, I know.”

Surprised, his eyebrows rose to his forehead. “How do you know?”

A chill ran down his spine at the mention of his last name. The curse he carried. Of course you'd know, your dad would know, even though he's never talked about it. Everyone knew.

“Dad isn't the only one in charge of business. At least not all of it.” You played with the piece of lime on your glass, and ran your finger through the rim, catching a bit of the salt there, licking it off your finger. “I know a thing or two.”

Right. All business, but no family.

You couldn't have been doing it on purpose. Eddie didn't think he was worth it, but the strain on his jeans said otherwise. He felt tense for more reasons than one.

“And you're not gonna tell me your name?”

“Thought you already know. Boy like you looks like he would do his homework.”

“Oh, no. A boy like me failed high school more times than I'd be comfortable sharing.”

He chuckled, and there it was again. Your laugh, freeing itself against the walls of the bar and bounced on him like a spell. “I like you, Eddie Munson.”

“Thought your ass was very demanding.” He quoted you, grinning from ear to ear, and tilting his head. “Was my kissing good enough?”

You put out your cigarette on the table and dropped the butt on your empty glass before looking straight into his eyes. Then, you got distracted by something happening behind him. He felt it too, and turned around to look.

The guy, your boyfriend-not-boyfriend, approached with no drinks in hand, despite coming from the direction of the bar, and no blonde friend in sight. He doesn’t acknowledge Eddie, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. “Who’s this?”

When Eddie turned back to you, you were already standing too. “New meat. Doesn’t know he’s swimming with sharks yet.”

You were talking like he wasn’t not there.

Inside, he deflates. He knew your type, your definitely-boyfriend’s type. The type who looked down on him, who thought little of his ambition. Eddie thought he could approach you, even though you were every bit as unapproachable as you looked. Things had changed for him, but that wouldn’t change regardless of where he stood. He was still at the bottom of the food chain, and you, taunting him at the very top.

It wasn’t like either of you were aware of it, but it had been nice to pretend for what little he could.

Didn’t change the fact that he still wanted you to look at him — and you did, for one last time that night, as the other guy laced his fingers with yours, and pulled you away, telling you something about an after party.

“Better work on that kissing, Eddie Munson.”

ALBATROSS RECORDS HQ, SAN FRANCISCO, 1990

Eddie has a lot to think of while he waits.

It seems like some kind of punishment, one parents would dish out on their small kids. Sit on that corner, face the wall, think of what you did. Think of what you did. It was easier to think of what he hasn’t done.

Missing an important concert because he was shitfaced and blacked out was the last drop, but that glass has been full for some time now.

Out of control, it's what he's been hearing. He'd seen his own face on MTV not too long ago, late at night on a grainy television, baring his tongue back at himself. He gives himself the devil horns like a crown, a silver cross hanging from his neck and sticking to his bare chest, as he addresses the camera from the stage before diving in the crowd. Out of control, they said.

He'd barely remembered that, or that the concert was being filmed. Figures.

Though, he had to agree someone in control wouldn't end up with as many bills for destroyed tour buses and hotel rooms in his name as he did. Someone in control wouldn't have been arrested for drug possession more than once, or have almost drowned in a hotel pool across the world. Or have lost the trust and admiration of his closest friends, and the contact with the only family he has.

His head aches. Eddie lifts his fingers to massage his temples, and sighs. It's August in California, and he's cold sweating in his seat, under his t-shirt. The chill gets worse when he hears the office’s door open behind him.

He doesn't turn around, doesn't move. The man approaches the table — his table — and loosens the collar of his dress shirt before sitting down, undoing his cufflinks and folding his sleeves up.

Ace Adler is a man of few words. He never talks much, but when he does, he makes sure one will listen. Eddie doesn't know much about him outside of talking business, other than Ace Adler was definitely not his real name, but he knew to take him seriously.

It felt like being in a room with his father, but at least his old man knew how to work a room before striking.

“I'm not going to tell you about the harm that you've done, but I'm sure your bandmates had the time to inform you.” Ace started, staring him down. “I won't tell you about the money we lost, and the contracts we had to humiliate ourselves to not lose, or what my business partners told me when they got the news. You must have a feeling it wasn't pretty.”

“I can…” Eddie started, and all he received was a raised hand in response.

“You'll talk when I'm done, son.”

A pause, much too long. Eddie nods, and keeps his eyes forward. It'll be worse if he doesn't meet his manager’s cold stare. His stomach drops.

“I won't tell you about any of it because that won't change a thing. All I'll tell you is that you got lucky, because I was supposed to fire you today, but someone changed my mind.”

“Fire me? Fire me from my own band?”

Ace doesn't answer his outburst. Instead, he slips a note from across the table in his general direction. It's a piece of ripped pink paper.

Tentatively, he opens it. There's all but a name and a phone number. Your name, and your phone number. You're using your real last name, he supposes, but that's undoubtedly you. Was that your handwriting too?

“Give her a call.” Ace says as he stands again, already on his way out. “Maybe she can help you out, because I won’t.”

As he hears your father close the door behind him once more, he thinks of all the last few times he saw you. The disdain in your eyes, the harsh words he uttered. Animosity from both sides, born from years of resentment.

He goes back to that first conversation. “Better work on that kissing, Eddie Munson.”

Never had he thought it would come that day.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic

[fandomxpreferences]

Take Me Back To the Night We Met

Masterlist

Pairing: rafe Cameron x female!reader

TW:18+, angst, drug use and addiction, toxic and manipulative behavior

Summary: Loving rafe is a tailspin of fights, sex, and drugs until one day he disappears. When he shows back up, your world is flipped upside down.

Word count:2k

A/N: this is loosely based off euphoria with a dash of tvd and I’m not sorry

Two years. Two whole years spent in a downward spiral with Rafe as the two of you plummeted toward rock bottom wrapped up in each other and your partying ways. Seven hundred and fifty five days of white lines and reckless behavior as the you fed off each others careless attitudes and gambled with your lives.

You were just another girl at a party one fateful night when Rafe locked eyes with you. Something pulled you towards him, and before you knew it you were wiping your nose and trying not to let a tear fall as the white powder burned your airway.

It was all fun in the beginning, until it wasnt. Social use turned into casual use at home, and casual use turned into searching for a fix. Still, the pair of you kept going and said to hell with anyone that tried to stop you.

Now, you’re standing on Barry’s door step alone while your tired body begs for rest. Rafe was always your ‘dealer’, but three months ago he left without so much as a note. No one knows where he is, but to say its taken a toll is an understatement.

Regardless of your circumstances, you do love him with your entire being. He’s your best friend and everyday you wonder if he’s ever going to come back.

The screen door rattles as your knuckles rap against the rusting metal, and you wait a few seconds before repeating the motion.

“I know you’re in there, Barry!”

A minute goes by before you hear the click of the lock, and the man’s face comes into view. He runs his tongue over his teeth and tsks while cocking his head.

“I aint got nothin’.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and you snort, genuinely amused.

“Sure, whatever you say. Give me my usual.”

Your hand extends to offer him cash, but he just glances between your face and the bills a few times before shaking his head.

“Nah, I ain’t got nothing for you. Not after what happened. Go home, Y/N.”

Irritation claws its way into your nerves as you shift back and forth, a scoff surfacing from deep in your chest.

“You didn’t say that last weekend. Stop with the bullshit, B.”

His eyes cast downward as he shakes his head slowly before he drags his gaze back up to meet yours.

“I can’t sell to you anymore, Y/N/N. I’m sorry.”

He moves to shut the door but your foot darts out at the last second.

“Why? Don’t give me that shit about you caring. You sell drugs to teenagers. You don’t have a fucking moral compass.”

Barrys face twists as your words sting him for a split second before his hardened features return, and he pushes you backwards so he can close the door.

“I dont have to tell you shit.”

Your eyes narrow as you start to put pieces of the puzzle together, and your suspicion only grows as Barry glances behind you every few seconds as if he’s nervous.

“Tell me or I swear to God I will make your life a living hell. I’m still a kook.”


When your threat doesn’t seem to persuade him, you reach out and grab his hand while bending his pinky back. You press down until his knees buckle and leer at him waiting for an answer.

“Ah- fuck, fine! Its Rafe!”

Shock causes your grip to loosen just enough for Barry to break free and he darts to his feet before you can react. He glares harshly while rubbing his finger, and you try your hardest to breathe while oxygen evades you.

“What about him? He told you to cut me off?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you process, and Barry’s silence answers your question. Why would he do that? More importantly, when did Barry hear from him last?

“When?”

Your fingers massage your temples as a headache brews, and the man watches you carefully before deciding to answer.

“Couple days ago. He stopped by.”

The information is like an ice bucket over the head, and you freeze before swallowing thickly .

“Rafe is back?”

Three simple words that nearly bring you to your knees before anger and confusion take over. He’s been back and hasn’t sent so much as a “fuck you” text? Why did he take time to do this but not to let you know he’s home?

Barry’s features soften just barely as he realizes what he told you, and he sighs heavily before taking a seat on the top step.

“Been back a few days. He looks good; says he went to rehab and got his shit together. Sure seems like it.”

Your ears ring as the entire world comes to a screeching halt, and for the first time, Barry has some sympathy for the young woman standing in front of him. His eyes watch you for a moment before he swallows softly and turns to head back inside.

“I’m sorry.”

This snaps you out of your daze and your manicured hand reaches out to grab his arm before he can leave. Your nails dig into the flesh but he pays no mind as he stops and looks back at you expectantly.

“That’s it? Since when do you listen to rafe?” You ask, and the look on Barry’s face fills you in.

“He paid you.” You scoff, and you release your hold to run your hand through your hair.

“In what world do you not take the money from both of us and double cross him?”

Barry just stares for a moment, and you swear you see a glimmer of concern in his eyes.

“Since the incident right after he left. I was going to cut your ass off anyway.”

At that, he slams the door and leaves you alone with your thoughts on his porch. Thirty minutes later you’re banging on Rafe’s door like the FBI trying to bust it down.

“Open the fucking door, Rafe! I know you can hear me!”

Your screams are ignored as you start kicking at the barrier, now fully unhinged as rage takes over.

“You can’t just leave and get clean then come back and control me! Who are you to tell Barry he can’t sell to me?”

You let out a frustrated yell when he still doesn’t answer, and tears prick at your eyes as pain mixes with anger.

“This is your fault! I was fine before I met you. I was fine!”

Rafe winces when your foot rattles the door, and he leans with his forehead pressed against it while he listens to your verbal assault.

“You get me hooked on this shit and then get help while I drown? You drag me to the depths of hell and then leave me there?!”

Your voice is thick with tears now as your cries turn to desperation.

“What is wrong with you? Why don’t you care?”

Rafe finally unlocks the door and cracks it just enough that he can see you without you barging in.

“I’ve got it under control, just don’t take this from me.” You sniffle, and the look in Rafe’s eyes is enough to make you breakdown again.

“No you don’t. You overdosed y/n.”

Your mouth gapes as you try to come up with a response and you cock your head to the side.

“How do you know that?”

He gives you a “really?” look and you know it must have been Barry.

“You didn’t give a fuck when you left. I could have died and you wouldn’t have even known. If you’re so worried than why’d you leave me here to go on a bender after you vanish?”

There’s genuine sorrow swimming In his irises, and you rub at your nose as you sniffle.

“I had to get my shit together.”

He wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around you as you hiccup and cry but he remains glued to his place.

“You could have taken me. I would have gone.”

The sad smile he gives you causes your heart to drop, and he takes a second to memorize your face.

“I know, that’s why I didn’t tell you. We’re not good for each other. You would have been a distraction and I would have failed.”

Your knees nearly buckle when you realize what he’s saying, and that familiar burning seizes your throat as it constricts.

“Please don’t leave me.”

What’s left of Rafe’s heart shatters and his hand comes up to cup your face. You lean into the coolness of his signet ring while his thumb wipes away a tear, and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t have a choice, baby.”

Every emotion in your body explodes when he swiftly moves inside and shuts you out, and before you realize it you’re slamming your limbs into his door like a madman.

“Fuck you, Rafe! You ruined my life and just walked away from the carnage! You are nothing but a selfish, silver spoon, daddy’s money prick! I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

With each word, your voice weakens and you sink lower until you’re a sobbing puddle on the ground. All of the fight drains from your body, and all that’s left is an empty shell. On the other side, rafe sits with his head between his hands as hot tears fall off his face with ease.

He winces as you release all your anger at his expense, but doesn’t move or say anything in response.

“I will never forgive you for this.”

There’s a sadness and finality in your tone that causes him to panic internally. He was so sure of himself until you showed up, and now hes disorientated again as your energy pulls him in. He reckons a part of him has always known that you’ll be here if he changes his mind, but now that safety net is being ripped out from under him.

Every cell in his body aches to be near you, but he forces himself to stay in place. Contrary to popular belief, Rafe is not heartless and he hates himself for everything hes done. He wishes he could go back to before he met you; before he set his world on fire and incinerated yours with it.

He’s fist fighting his own demons as they scream for him to just open the door and fall to his knees, but he resists every urge until he hears your car engine start up. He’s certain you’ve been gone a while but he’s been too terrified to even blink, let alone move.

If he does, he knows he’ll set out to find you and pull you into his arms. So he remains in place until his limbs are numb, hours long past as the clock ticks past two am.

After several phone calls and a hoarse voice from hours of driving around screaming, you finally pull into the driveway that’s hidden deep in the cut. An old “friend” of Rafe’s that stopped coming around after Rafe fought him for making a few too many comments about you.

He isn’t the safest option, but it’s the only bridge left that Rafe hasn’t burned. In his attempt to keep you safe, he’s driven you straight into the heart of danger. This guy isn’t just a low life dealer, he’s the king pin. He’s the suppliers supplier, and truthfully even coming here is incredibly stupid.

Still, your feet carry your forward until you’re knocking on his door and fidgeting. It takes a second but you hear a click of a gun before the door cracks open, and you give your best version of a smile.

It doesn’t do much to mask your sorrow thanks to your swollen eyes and splotchy cheeks, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Well well well, it it isn’t the kook princess herself. You shouldn’t be here, darling.”

The grin he gives resembles the Cheshire cat and you ignore the way your stomach drops.

“You’re my last resort.”

It’s a piece of information you shouldnt divulge, but your desperation outweighs any logic.

His beady eyes rake over your figure before he opens the door wider and nods his head.

“Come on in then, sweets.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron #outer banks x reader #outerbanks #outer banks angst

[kagamesayu]

I loved ur bimbo x shidou- you wrote him so well omg- pls make more with shidou <33

shidou ryusei x bimbo!reader pt 2

c/w . implied female reader, smut MDNI, fluff, shidou ryusei is INSANELY CRAZY for you wc: 1.2 k a/n . omai gah my first ask 🥹 TY I WAS SO WORRIED I WROTE HIM TOO TAME!! blonde demon fuck 🥰 ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE!! reblogs and comments appreciated ✧*.

pt 1, pt 2

imagine...

shidou who loves putting a hand on your thigh when he drives. he has the music turned down - probably something from 'hide' - while he rests his cheek against his fist, staring and listening to you rambling about a cute puppy you saw.

the hand on your thigh squeezes and massages the flesh between his fingers absentmindedly. though he's looking at you, he probably isn't thinking about too much (when does he ever though) other than the fact that you look so fucking cute.

your shiny lipgloss, the animated way your hands move when you talk about how the puppy just kept hopping about and licking your 'fingies', how your eyes light up and shine.

he taps his pointer finger against your inner thigh twice, getting your attention, before leaning close, lips puckered. "got me all winded up doll~ ya look soo cute right now~!" and you pause, face turning hot before you giggle and peck his lips.

i hc him to have insane road rage, and you can tell by how angry he is by how he squeezes your thigh.

if it's just a long line, he'll squeeze your knee slightly, pinching and playing with the flesh while waiting for the traffic to move.

however if anyone does anything else like cutting in front of you or stopping suddenly, he immediately becomes to furious. his hand grips onto your thigh harder, digging his fingers into your flesh in an almost bruising grip. he does it both to relieve his rage and to keep you from flying too far away - even with the seat belt keeping you safe.

"these fuckers don't know how to fuckin' drive? almost made my baby fly out the damn car!"

he has a crazy look on his face. this is the only circumstance his hand leaves your thigh. it flies up to the horn, blaring it and staring right at the car that dared to put your safety at risk.

and the poor people who cut in front of you are non the wiser of the demon they angered. shidou will purposely drive to be beside the car and look inside with his piercing eyes.

safe to say the offenders will zoom tf away.

and when they do shidou will look straight at you wide smile on his face. 'praise me!' and what else can you do when your man protects you as well as he has?

anyone driving past your car would think there was a dog inside because of all the howling

shidou who clings and whines when he had to leave your side. every so often he has to go overseas for a match, and you almost always forget to request for day offs.

"my dumb little doll, makin' me suffer for their actions..." he always sulks, pouty as he snuggles deep into your neck.

he hates not having you be his side, hates not being to hold you, touch you, smell you, kiss you. he'd rather die than not be able to be with you.

for the days leading up to his departure he clings onto you. early morning runs are delayed cause he stays in bed longer, either with his cock buried deep inside, having you cockwarm him or with his head between your legs enjoying what little time he had left.

and when the time finally comes for him to leave has a few memorabilia to keep him going through the days. pictures of you, promises of calls every morning, afternoon and night, your undies, the usual!

might explore this more it sounds kinda fun ngl

shidou who loves your trampstamp. you'd gotten it while he was out of the country and took a picture of it to cheer him up.

you'd heard some of your girl friends got it and it made their significant others happy, so you did it too!

what could go wrong?

apparently a lot. the moment shidou saw the picture - accompanied by the text "got a new tattoo! isn't it cute?" - he went feral.

the picture of you in front of the mirror with your shirt off, undies pulled low to show him the fresh ink on your skin, killed shidou ryusei.

immediately he books a flight home. he doesn't care if the match is tomorrow, his doll got him a present and he needs to have them in his arms and on his dick right now.

he texted you that he was coming back but you didn't believe him. he has a match tomorrow, there's no way he's coming home!

oh sweetheart.

and you have no one else to blame other than yourself when he shows up ay the front door, dripping in sweat and lust, demanding you show him the tattoo.

the look he has in his eye is exactly the same as when he's on the field. the same look he has when he wants to shoot a goal. when he explodes.

and there is a goal here. right in front of him.

you.

shidou who makes you swatch new lipstick on him. red, pink, purple, green, he wants you to paint the whole damn rainbow on him with your lips.

you can bet the moment you return from a makeup store - using his money too, of course - he's grabbing you and sitting you on his lap on the couch and making you bring out your haul.

and you show it to him like you're a makeup youtube creator, hand behind the product and reading out the names to shidou. and he nods along, smirking and watching your child-like excitement over your newest palette.

"oh my god ryu!! look!!", you pull out a cute pink eyeshadow palette.

"ooh, that looks cute doll."

"it's the trixie mattel 'girl talk' palette!! i just saw it and had to buy it! look this hot pink is to die for!!"

and he thinks your rambling is cute, he really does, but all he's really excited to see is the new lipstick or lipgloss you bought.

"and look at how pink this lipstick is baby!"

you're too oblivious to realise how much he perked up, hands gripping your sides tighter, expectant look on his face as he watches your hands take out the products.

"i got this pink, and this one which is a little darker, and this one that's sparkly~!"

"well? what're you waitin' for then pretty?"

and that's your cue to start unboxing them, putting them on your lips and marking up your man.

30 minutes is all it takes for you to finish trying out all your new lipsticks. but you're not even focused on swatching it anymore.

now he's looming over your panting form, strings of drool connecting your lips. your eyes are teary, mascara dripping down your face as your hands grip onto his blond hair.

his face is littered with pink kisses. on his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his chin, his neck, everything all the way down to his naked chest is covered in kisses.

he's gorgeous. that's all your dumb little brain can think when he kisses you like this.

she's perfect. is all shidou ryusei can think when you kiss him like this.

#x bimbo!reader #x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryusei #shidou x reader #✧. bllk