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#but would still try to bite your hand off if you tried to give him a treat

ddejavvu · 3 days

Note

would you be up to do bff remus with no boundaries?? i think that would be an interesting dynamic

maybe like after a full moon and she just like fully gives him a shower, or something where he’s just completely naked and the boys are so confused at what’s happening

"Arm up, Rem," You hum, but your fingers pry at his pale, scarred skin before he can even begin moving a muscle.

You lift his bicep away from his side, bringing the lathered loofa in your hand to swipe through the curve of his armpit. Suds slide down his sides and you hear him hiss as they mingle with his still-healing cuts and scrapes, but there's nothing to be done except cleaning them before they can be dressed.

"Easy, easy," You rub a hand over his back in a soothing circle that carefully avoids his injuries, "Just gotta get 'em clean, then we can dress them. You can sleep on your stomach, that'll help the ones on your back. How'd you even get scratches on your back?"

"It's all the ladies I occupy my time with," Remus drawls, but his pain is evident in the weakness of his voice, "Women love werewolves."

When you don't answer, leaving an purposefully awkward silence behind that swirls with the steam from the shower, Remus sighs, "Got all scratched up from the tree branches out there."

You drag the loofa from his side to his back, carefully ghosting over the caked dirt around his wounds. His knuckles turn white as he clenches his fists, but when he tries drawing one into his mouth to bite at it you take it in your own free hand.

"No biting. That's reserved for your better half."

"Are you talking about Sirius, or the wolf? Sirius bites me," Remus grumbles, and- speak of the devil, there's feet pounding obnoxiously up the stairs and towards the dorms.

"Moony, we've got all the chocolate we could carry," Sirius informs him, and there's the sound of wrapped goods being piled on Remus's comforter before James and Sirius step into the doorway of the bathroom.

James lets out an 'ooh' and turns away with a grimace when he sees you kneeled beside Remus's naked form beneath the spray of water, but Sirius stands stock-still, frozen by some mix of intrigue and horror.

"Uh, are we interrupting something?"

"Just a bath," You smile kindly at them, scrubbing gently at Remus's neck, "He has trouble getting his back sometimes."

"Sometimes- have you two done this before?"

"After every moon." You nod helpfully when Remus merely ducks his head to rest between his knees, "You two are usually either asleep or trying to get grass out of your pelts."

There's something green in Sirius's hair that proves the two were unsuccessful this time around.

"Oh. I'm sorry, Moony, I didn't know you had a caregiver," Sirius snickers, "Does she help you put your panties on too?"

"Don't let him get to you, dove," Remus murmurs, his eyes slipping shut as the warm water seeps into his skin and heals an ancient ache in his bones, "He's just mad he'll never get to take yours off. They're a real pretty pattern, y'know," Remus glances up at Sirius with the ghost of a smirk on his face, muffled by pain but persistent all the same, "Shame she's not interested in showing 'em to you."

"You've seen her panties, mate?" James cuts in, peering over Sirius's shoulder, "What are you two?"

"Friends," You shrug, "But it's stuffy in here at night, and my sleeping pants get too warm."

"You're telling me all the times you two have slept over in here all snuggled up in his bed, that you've not had any pants on?"

"Well I don't make it a habit to strip in his bed," You scoff, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn grass stain on the pale plane of his hip, "But I can promise you that my pants are never gonna be on your floor, either one of you."

"Oh please, we wouldn't dream of stealing Moony's girl," Sirius claps James on the shoulder, "But whaddya think about that, mate? Strippin' down to cuddle in bed together? They seem to think it's a friendly endeavor."

"I typically only ditch my pants for Lily, Padfoot," James informs Sirius with a sympathetic smile, "But I'll ask her if I can bring my dog to her dorm tomorrow night. You can sleep at our feet."

Sirius begins valiantly arguing for a spot higher up on the bed, every dog's hardest battle to fight, but you're no longer interested in their antics or the noise they're producing. You reach out your foot to kick at the door, and it swings shut with a satisfying click.

"Thanks, love." Remus groans, his face squished between his knees, "They were givin' me a headache."

"They always give you a headache," You dig your thumbs into a tense spot on his back and he twitches beneath you with a hum of appreciation, "We should get a flat together without them. They can be the feral deer and dog that live outside our cottage."

"We'll have to call animal control" Remus grins wryly against the rounded bend of his knee as you lean forwards to wash beneath his thighs, "How strong are their strongest tranquilizer darts?"

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin one-shot #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin dialogue #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin headcanons #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin hc #remus lupin hcs #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you

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webslingingslasher · 3 days

Note

interest peaked… how the turn tables

how does trouble react when peter bites her? 🎤

'trouble?'

'reading.'

'trouble?'

'go away.'

'trouble!'

you promise yourself that this is the one and only time you'll give into him. your face must show how annoyed you are because peter softens you right up with 'i love you.'

'aw. i love you too, handsome.' you wait for more, he doesn't offer anything. you lean over for a quick kiss before settling back into his sheets. the second your eyes are back on your book, peter bids for more attention.

'cuddles?'

you're not moving a thing, peter said you could read all afternoon if you wanted and you're going to do it. you pat your chest while shifting down, if he wants a cuddle, he has to come to you.

'i'm reading.' peter doesn't need another clue, he's pushing himself up and moving to lay on top of you. his weight adds a nice pressure, subconsciously a hand finds itself dragging through his curls while the other supports your book.

'trouble?' it's a whisper, you respond with 'shh.' your hand slowly stills the further you find yourself invested in the story, peter doesn't like it one bit. you hit the next chapter, honing in on heavy dialogue you're taken from reality and thrown into the page.

you jump, a soft yelp tumbles from your lips while your book drops and you push at peter's cheek. 'ow, ow, ow, ow! stop biting, stop biting!' peter digs his teeth in further, you whine and try to hold him back, it hurts more.

'peter,' you plead with his name and it's enough to make him let up. 'what? you've got very yummy arms.' it's the same excuse you use on him, you frown and stare at the soft indent he left behind.

'you bit me.'

'payback. let me get another.' you squirm away, 'no!' peter catches your arm and holds you still, you're still trying to fight him off when he latches on to the meat of your bicep. 'you're nibbling, i don't nibble!' it's a lie, you use him like a chew toy and you should be thankful he's being so easy on you.

peter lightly thrashes his head from side to side, it's like a dog with a bone. peter's the one with a pain kink, not you. 'i don't like it! i bite, you kiss, that's the rule!'

sweet relief, your attention lost from your damp skin by falling into the deep pits of peter's eyes. they're so pretty that you could spend limitless hours just looking at them.

'i'd kiss you if i could have your attention for two seconds.'

'then ask me!' peter blinks, a small frown forms. 'i tried. you shut me out.' he was pining for your attention and went for the one thing that would rip you from your alternate universe.

'does my petey want some love?'

a tender kiss is placed where his teeth were a minute ago. 'just a little.' you could set aside a few minutes, your book wasn't going anywhere.

'okay, give me hugs.' you ready yourself for a blanket of peter, instead he shakes his head and uses a hand to hold himself up, over you. 'no hugs. kisses.'

'what if i want hugs?'

peter said what he said. 'kisses.'

'hugs.'

a pretend grumpy face, he surprises you with a peck. 'kisses.' you poke his shoulder. 'kisses always mean more to you, i know your secrets.'

'no secrets, i promise. can't a guy just makeout with his girlfriend without being interrogated?'

your eyebrows raise, 'from kisses to a makeout. see? i knew there was something up with you.' peter takes a deep breath and eases into that smile. the one full of boyish charm, the one that makes you feel warm and giddy under his touch because it feels like he's undressing you in his mind.

'trouble,' you lose all air when he places a barely there kiss on your lips. 'please let me kiss you.' you can't think straight when he whispers against you like this, especially when he's pleading.

'you can kiss me.' it's just as quiet, you can feel peter's smile when he leans in. he's so gentle you tug him closer by his shirt, in ten seconds you're pressing up and begging him for more.

you halfway notice when peter sets your book on his nightstand, this time you can't blame him for starting more than just a kiss. but you will.

'just a makeout, huh?'

'it's a paperback. we don't wanna crush it, right?'

'next time don't be so sneaky and just fuck me from behind while i'm reading.'

a sharp inhale, peter's pupils blow wide. an aggressive kiss, your bottom lip might be bruised in the morning. 'don't tempt me with a good time, trouble.'

'it's not tempting if i'm asking.' another kiss, peter can't hide his love if he tried.

'have i ever told you that you're the best thing to ever happen to me?'

#frat!peter drabbles

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coff-in · 2 days

Note

hi pookie. Back at it again.

hi pook. It's my birthday today, and you're gonna give me a birthday present :3

I was wondering what birthday sex would be like with Andy dandy? Like he can't get you anything for your birthday and he just ends up fucking you and claiming its your birthday present? :3

notes from coff-in: happy birthday pookie!! my birthday is also in june, we're like twins!!! wowie zowie! anyway, tried my best to keep this as gender neutral as possible :3 happy anniversary of your escape from the womb

[gender neutral] reader-insert, NSFW

andrew would feel bad that he couldn't get you a cake or something you wanted for your birthday. however, he's sure that birthday sex would be a reasonable substitution. he'd wait for you to get home if they're working, maybe try to cook them something for lunch or dinner (i don't think he's the worse chef ever), then lead them to the bedroom. he wouldn't let [reader] undress themself. he would kiss their face then trail his hands under their shirt to lift it over their head and throw it to the ground.

"look at you," he'd coon at [reader] with those fucking sexy bedroom eyes he knows he has, "so pretty for me, aren't you?" he'd run his hands up and down their sides then pull down their pants/skirt. "go lay down on the bed for me." he wouldn't let [reader] do ANYTHING today. it's their special day today and he plans on treating them like royalty today!

he would get between their thighs and kiss them, biting them and leaving his marks on their skin. he'd laugh when [reader] covers their face, just finding them so fucking cute! "hehehe, no no no. don't hide from me, baby, let me see that cute face of yours." he'd make them keep their eyes on him as he eats them out/sucks them off, obscenely slurping and licking them like a fucking freak. he'd moan around them and tongue them and just :3 heehee i can't get it out properly im sorry :3 :3

grrrr.... he'd tease his thick cock against [reader]'s wet and slick hole because he's still an asshole. "yeah, you want it baby, yeah? you want it inside? you want me? you do, don't you? it's ok, i'll give it to you. i'll give all to you, don't worry baby." he fucks [reader] gently at first, slow and deep thrusts. then he goes harder and harder, panting over [reader] as the room is filled with moans and harsh plap plap plaps. he kisses them as he cums inside, filling them up with his hot seed. a birthday creampie :3

they're both hot and sweaty as andrew cuddles up to them, wrapping an arm around [reader]'s body and kissing them on the forehead. "happy birthday, [reader]." ofc if the birthday baby is up for it, he can go for another round or two ;)

(he'd make you lay on your chest and bend your hips so he could spread your asscheeks and take a bite out of that birthday cake)

----

coff-in

#cobweb in the coffin #tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #tcoaal x reader #the coffin of andy and leyley x reader #andrew graves x reader #IDK WHO YOU ARE 'NONNIE BUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY #i hope you have many more #(i hope this isnt too late and i missed it)

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darsynia · 2 days

Text

Don't Read the Last Page Chapter 2

Summary: Your friend Nat claims her plan to distract Tony Stark with her sex appeal isn't working, so she wants you to do it with your brain--and a sexy red dress. Things start out completely over your head and get more complicated when SHIELD becomes involved.

Length/Warnings: 4,200 | none (future smut!!)

Masterlist | MCU Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Prev | Next

Excerpt:

"Go, please, Mr. Stark. Enjoy your party.”

“It’s Tony, and I would, if I didn’t think you’d bolt the second I turn my back."

“Don’t worry about that, there’s still a lot of your house technology I want to see,” you blurt out, looking with honest interest at the lit-up interior of his famous mansion. When you hadn’t been stressed out about the dress, the spy agency, and possibly letting Natasha down, you really have been excited to catch a glimpse of Stark’s innovations in situ.

His hand tightens on your arm as he bursts into genuine laughter, pulling your focus back to him. “You know, I think you’re the first woman who hasn’t tried to use that line to get into bed with me!”

“Oh God,” you breathe, stumbling back against the wall. What are you doing here? How did you think you had the skills to attend something like this??

Chapter Two: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

When your car stops, you see that you’re in a short line of other vehicles making their way up to the entrance to Stark’s mansion. It gives you a chance to text Natasha about the crazy conversation you just had with her boss. The program Nat uses to text with you is some weird, proprietary one that makes you pick your nickname new each time. You use the same one as usual, CATnip, but Nat’s is always different, usually dependent on her mood.

CATnip: Your boss wants to recruit me to be a freaking sex spy, and I will never trust you again

TrustTasha: Maybe you misunderstood the assignment?

CATnip: I really don’t think so. He told me that SHIELD wants to keep him from getting too close to his CEO, like I’m in any way capable of competing with Pepper Potts! I’m in way over my depth here.

TrustTasha: Is this you exaggerating for effect or is that really what he said?

CATnip: I am 10% exaggerating. The car is pulling up.

The car stops, and you are gathering up your courage when someone opens the door for you and holds out a hand. You step out, tucking your phone into the gold clutch you brought, wishing you’d thought to check yourself in any kind of mirror in between being trust-stomped by Nick Fury and this moment. As you walk toward the door, you watch your feet rather than the scene in front of you, feeling very much like the ‘barely scraping by’ engineer who lives above her own storefront that you are.

“Excuse me?” a man says, and you look up. He’s a heavyset man, but you suspect that a lot of the bulk is actually muscle. The man’s wearing a black suit and an authoritative expression. He does a bit of a double take on looking at your outfit, and you look down to make sure the gold shawl is covering what you want it to be. “Trying to stand out, nice,” he says appreciatively. “Go on in.”

“Not really,” you mutter to yourself, but you do know your dress is sending a particular message. “You don’t need a name or something?” you ask him. It’s one last bite at your own paw to get out of the trap you’ve been placed in. If it doesn’t work, well, at least the bait is nice.

He laughs and looks back down at the slit in your dress. “I mean, if you want to give me a name, I certainly wouldn’t refuse it.”

For a long, horrible second you freeze as your brain dusts off the correct lines of code. This is a party, and he probably thought you were offering your name to him! Thankfully, it’s a popular party, and you’re jostled from behind by guests more eager to get in than you are. You take the opportunity to duck your head down and scurry in the door.

Once inside, it seems like every woman in sight is wearing black. You’re the only one in red and the only one with any gold as a part of your outfit. Now you understand what the man meant about standing out. You scan the room looking for Nat so you can give her a piece of your mind. Two of the dresses you were choosing between had been black! When you see her, you slip between through a group of young blonde giggling women, and call out.

“Excuse me, Miss?”

Nat clearly recognizes your voice, because when she turns around, her expression is amused. “Yes? Were you looking for a place to hang up your wrap?”

“Not at all,” you say politely, glaring at her. “Maybe a location for the bathroom?”

“Miss Rushman, please tell me you and the lady in red are friends?” someone behind you asks. You recognize who it is and close your eyes, caught between excitement and regret.

“I don’t think I’ve ever won a bet this quickly in my life,” Natasha crows. She’s holding herself in such a unique way, as if she’s meant to be on display, but not know it? It would be compelling if you weren’t ready to toss her and her entire organization off the cliff face the house is built on.

The thing is, you don’t want to be impolite, and you did hope to at least meet the man once in your life, so you slowly turn around to greet Tony Stark. He’s wearing slick gray dress pants, a matching suit jacket, and a mottled maroon shirt that definitely costs a lot of money, if the way it’s clearly been tailored to fit over the glow of his ARC reactor is any indication. Your eyes are caught by that glow right away, but you’re brought out of your fascination by the sound of him clearing his throat.

You look up into Stark’s eyes, and you’re even more startled by the obvious interest you can see in them.

“A room full of people here to celebrate my birthday, and you’re the only one in red,” he says warmly. In most of his public appearances he comes across as sarcastic, combative, or arrogant. Right now he seems almost lit from within, like his whole body is smiling. The man is the very embodiment of charisma.

“It seemed like an obvious choice, but--” you look around at the rest of the partygoers, some of whom are looking over at the two of you with curiosity.

“Were you planning for me to unwrap you, later?” he asks, his voice dropping in register as well as sound level.

You suck in a breath, suddenly realizing what your attempt to cover up the bodice of your dress actually looks like in this context. You drop back a step, eyes wide.

“I honestly hadn’t-- I mean--” you stammer. Stark steps close to whisper in your ear.

“Breathe.” He turns toward the overlook on the other side of the room and jerks his head for you to follow him. “C’mon.”

“I’d rather just--” you shake your head, but to your utter surprise, he grabs one end of your gold shawl and starts backing away from you toward the door to the balcony. Stark’s expression is smug; whether you stay still and let him have his dramatic dress reveal or follow him outside, he obviously gets what he wants either way.

You choose the less revealing of the two and rush after him with a fist pressed tight against your heart, in case he tugs too hard. The analogy maybe hits a little close, tonight. This man whose career you’d followed for so long is completely focused on you, and you can feel his pull in more than one way. If you could chase all of the other people away and really talk to him, you’d be in heaven. Their scrutiny is what’s most upsetting to you right now.

Another partygoer opens the door for the two of you and greets Stark, who acknowledges the man the same way a world leader might greet a diplomatic subordinate, magnanimously, as if owed the attention by virtue of his position. He walks you all the way outside to the overlook, other groups of people drifting out of his way as if it’s only natural to do so. As you keep up with him you can't help but wonder if Tony Stark has ever had to wait to see an exhibit at a museum or art gallery. Given how much scrutiny the two of you are getting, you suspect he feels more kinship with the displays than the audience.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like you might need to yarf over the side. Not used to parties?” Stark says, leaning on the wall and looking at you curiously. He lets go of the fabric of your coverup with a twist of his lips that tells you he definitely thought about yanking on it anyway.

“You know how you buck the trend of tech professionals being typically shy, introverted, and awkward around people?” you ask, looking out at the view instead of him.

“Mm hmm.”

The sheer warmth in his voice is setting your nerves on fire. Your crush is a bonfire inside of you, optimistically blazing as if it can burn away your life-long career of being tongue-tied around men.

“Well I don’t. Buck the trend, I mean.”

“You work in tech?” he says. His voice sounds closer than it did before, and you look over to see that he’s drifted over, a completely different expression on his face. It’s everything you’ve always wanted-- Tony Stark interested in you (maybe? hopefully??) for your mind. You nod. “Where do you work? What do you do?”

A group of women start singing Happy Birthday over in the main room, the one with a DJ. You must have made some kind of terrible face, because Stark laughs, reaches out a hand and rests it on your arm where you’re leaning on the wall to keep yourself standing. The touch singes your nerve endings, sending heat from the point of contact straight to your rapidly beating heart.

You barely expected to meet the man, much less feel the way he can so easily alter your brain chemistry.

That thought helps you focus, somehow, and you picture yourself connecting every one of your twelve social brain cells to say, “Software and mechanical engineering, mostly. I run a small, very small design firm. Go, please, Mr. Stark. Enjoy your party.”

“It’s Tony, and I would, if I didn’t think you’d bolt the second I turn my back."

“Oh God,” you breathe, stumbling back against the wall. What are you doing here? How did you think you had the skills to attend something like this??

“Hey, hey,” Stark says, stepping directly in front of you and setting a gentle hand on either of your upper arms. “Don’t fuck with my ego on my birthday, okay? You look light-headed, and not in the good way.”

You pull in a shaky breath to apologize even as your inner swoon meter heads for the clouds, but Tony fucking Stark sends it to the moon instead by setting a finger on your parted lips. You’re completely captivated by the march of emotions that cross his face-- amusement, apology, and ardor, before he lands on a sternness that is somehow sexier than any of it.

“I see how I just made it worse,” he says, stepping back with a sheepish expression. “I’m still calibrated to birthday babes, not engineering ones-- yep, that’s still-- okay,” he scrunches up his face and then grins, glancing over his shoulder to their growing audience, crossing his arms to look at you with studied curiosity. “Are you telling me you put on that dress so you could sneak into my party and ogle my… inventions?”

He has to know how well his tailored suit sets off the pinnacle of all his inventions right there in his chest!

“Not just that. I did want to meet you, I just didn’t think about--” you break off as he shoos away a few persistent, nosy guests and herds you into a more darkened area of the balcony. “This is your element, not mine,” you finally confess.

The understatement of the century.

“And if I could be in your element, what would that look like?” His tone is different now, sounding less arrogant, less persuasive, but more real.

Getting what you want shouldn’t be this easy. It feels wrong, tainted, and you back up out of a sense of responsibility, almost as a ‘fuck you’ to Nick Fury and his ability to turn the truth into something morally reprehensible.

“T-shirt and jeans. Coffee. Sitting on the floor talking about inventions. God, what am I doing here?” you groan.

“Tony!” someone calls out from inside, leaning out the glass door, obviously drunk.

Stark throws up a peace sign in reply, but he’s looking at you like a particularly interesting design problem. Natasha’s getting her way, and you feel like shit about it, because you want his attention, just not like this. Not planned, not calculated. You’d warned Nat that you were arriving, did she pull him over to stand where he would see you when you walked in?

“Stop that,” Stark says, eyeing you with the expression of a concerned boss. “You’re starting to look queasy again. Tell you what: you want me to enjoy the party? You wanted to stand back and be a wallflower? Do that. Just don’t leave. Lemme get a chance to talk to you after you’ve loosened up a little.”

“Oh, I can’t drink! I have work to do when I get back home. It’s either that or first thing in the morning,” you laugh regretfully. “Besides, I get more shy when I drink alcohol. I’d just chameleon myself right into the woodwork.”

“You need time, you’re saying,” he murmurs, looking past you toward the ocean. A fleeting look of sadness crosses his face before he squares his shoulders and makes eye contact again, fully back in Playboy Persona. “I don’t believe you. Everyone loosens up with alcohol!” Suddenly, he snaps his fingers. “In fact, whatever you don’t drink? I will. Down your fair share or take the blame for how completely smashed I’ll get.”

Whatever it was you’d almost glimpsed has evaporated completely. Stark’s trying to corner you, just like Fury had done, and you react as you usually do in that situation. You lash out. “I think you already planned to get very drunk. You’re trying to manipulate me,” you say harshly, crossing your arms. The action pulls at your shawl, and you clutch at it.

“Sure, I’m the one manipulating you, when you show up dressed like a present for me to unwrap, playing at being uninterested,” he says, advancing on you like a predator. There’s a light in his eyes that tells you you’ve activated the reckless streak Fury warned you about, but it’s not anger, just intensity. It’s vulnerability and vanity all at once, loneliness covered by an iron carapace. “Who sent you? What’s your name? What’s your company’s name?”

“My name is Cat. My company is Envision,” you say quickly, avoiding your real name and slurring the actual name of the company into the word its name is based on. EnvisIron’s name is a play the building itself, which used to be an Iron Works. The foundry had been converted first into apartments, and then into storefronts on the bottom floor. There’s no way someone with Stark’s ego will believe that your company’s name has the word ‘Iron’ in it without that having anything to do with him, even though you and your partners named it before he ever created his first Iron Man suit.

Stark looks at you with put-on suspicion, probably because you dodged the first question. You can tell it’s fake because he’s holding back a smile even as he narrows his eyes at you. It’s really attractive, and you wish that there really was a world where you could hang out with him in scruffy clothes and chat. Nothing about the way he’s spoken to you tonight has implied the kind of classism you’ve seen people complain about from the uber rich. You already had a favorable opinion of him despite all the stories about his antics in the press, and that just raises it more.

“It was nice to meet you, Cat. I’ll talk to you later. Don’t forget, have a drink. Have a few. Save me from myself.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” you blurt out in reluctant compassion, hating both the sentiment and the comparison to what Nick Fury had said less than an hour ago.

Stark had walked away, but he stops and looks back at you. Something happens when you lock eyes; he looks caught out, as if he was planning something self-destructive, and you’ve momentarily made him reconsider. Not more than three seconds later, though, he shakes his head.

“You know what to do to stop me, Kitten,” he says. The quick smile he flashes you is defensive, hurt, and you decide that he must see you as some kind of proxy for an argument with someone else. After all, you’ve just met. You don’t know each other at all.

You watch Stark walk away from you and desperately wish something was different. You wish that Nick Fury hadn’t spoken to you. That you weren’t afraid that Stark only wants you to get drunk so he can pry your shawl off, rather than actually talk to you person to person. You wish that you didn’t care that he might want to pry the shawl off. That you actually were the kind of woman he seems to wish you were.

You wish that Natasha hadn’t invited you at all.

Despite how overwhelmed you are, you do try.

Stark nurses a drink for the first fifteen minutes after walking away. A few partygoers try to talk to you, but their conversation is vapid and uninteresting for the most part. Mostly they want to know what Stark said to you, whether you know each other, if you’re dressed like you are for a purpose (question complete with eyebrow waggling and voices dripping with innuendo).

You catch Stark looking over at you and noticing that your hands are still just holding your gold clutch and no drink. He holds up a finger, reaches over to snag a full glass from a server’s tray, and downs it in ten seconds. Then he points at you, making an 0 with his fingers, then at himself, holding up a 2, stripping off his jacket and tossing it behind the bar. It knocks over a bottle, and he shrugs, pulling out a bank note from his wallet and handing it over to the bartender while holding your gaze the entire time.

If you could survive taking a swing at Natasha, you almost would. This entire situation is spiraling out of control, and all you did was be yourself!

You try to strike up a conversation with one of the waitstaff, but that can only last a short while, since you know they’re working. When you see him next, Stark’s got a third drink, and it’s half gone.

That’s when you give up and go to get a drink of your own. You ask for the weakest drink possible, of the smallest amount. The plan is to nurse it, since you know Tony Stark would figure it out if you tried to fake it. Just in case, though, you ask the bartender if he’d be willing to just hand you an empty glass to hold.

“I actually do that for alcoholics stuck at parties like this, but I can’t, not for you. Whatever competition you have going on with the boss is between the two of you.”

Everything gets much worse after only an hour.

Stark is wasted. Intellectually you know that you can’t possibly be the sole cause of the night’s decline. He’d led a chaotic public life before the kidnapping and betrayal of his mentor, but you definitely contributed to his alcoholic brinkmanship.

A half hour ago he’d disappeared for a few minutes and come back wearing some parts of his Iron Man suit. He was already drunk by then, but he was still throwing you challenging looks. Stark had set up outside not far from you, allowing a succession of giggling women to fire the force weapon in the palm of his Iron Man suit into the night air. Natasha had dodged him, and you’d seen Ms. Potts walk outside with a wrapped present and turn right back around to leave after seeing him pretend to smack one woman on the ass during the transition of handing over his gauntlet to the next one.

You’re pretty sure Stark had been trying to single you out as the only woman who hasn’t gotten to try on the gauntlet, but you aren’t influenced by that kind of challenge. The more you shrink back and look uncomfortable, the more Stark seems to lean into his demonstrably destructive behavior.

The only reason you haven’t tried to leave is the worry Stark will do something even more attention-getting to stop you.

You’ve gotten Tony Stark’s attention, all right. In the worst possible way.

“Anyone else? No? Time for the main event, then,” he says. “Everyone inside. Come on, all of you. Every last one.”

He stands by the glass door, and you slip inside among a group of women who are drunk enough to throw their arms around you as if you’ve been a part of their cadre the whole time. Stark disappears for a few minutes after that, and you head for the front door.

It’s guarded.

A well-dressed man in front of you is ushered out with polite deference, but when you try to follow him, the man in the black suit you’d met when you first arrived steps into the space.

“Sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to stay put.”

“On a spectrum of asking politely to straight up kidnapping, what am I looking at, here?” you ask, pushed to your absolute limit. At least he has the grace to look ashamed.

“Nothing so serious. How about firmly asking?” He moves towards you, and you back up out of necessity. “Here’s the thing: he’s had a rough--”

“Year?” you interrupt.

“Something like that. Asked me to make sure you stuck around. Could you do that? Not if it’ll make you miserable, or anything, but--”

“Your boss is extremely drunk,” you point out. You know what you want to say, but it’s… drastic. Still, this man does look genuinely concerned, as if Stark was his friend rather than just his employer. For all you know, he is. “Look, Mr.--”

“Hogan. I’m his bodyguard, his--” the man sighs. “Sometimes, his minder. And it sure seems like he would mind if you left early.”

You nod, biting your lip despite the lipstick. “Okay, I’m going to say this, and maybe it’ll be enough for you to kick me out.” His eyebrows shoot up, but you’re committed now. You’ve never spent so much time feeling cornered in a twenty-four hour period in your life! It looks like you might have to ask your clients to grant an extension, because you barely have any brain cells active enough to rub together-- but who are you kidding? You're totally going to wake up in about fifteen minutes, and none of this absurdist unreality will have happened. It's actually surprising how disappointed you feel at the prospect.

The bodyguard clears his throat, and you realize you've just been standing there freaking out in silence.

"Right, sorry: There are lines, and neither of us are going to cross them," you say firmly. "He’s completely wasted in there, so no matter what he thinks is going to happen tonight, I’m not a rapist, and you’re not a kidnapper, are we clear?”

There’s actual relief on Mr. Hogan’s face, which is both strange and comforting. “Yeah, we’re clear. Thank you.” The sound of breaking glass causes both of you to look over in trepidation at the main party room. Hogan pushes past you, and you follow.

Stark’s holding court at the DJ booth with a microphone. He's wearing the Iron Man suit with the faceplate flipped up, arguing loudly with Pepper Potts, whose face is a mask of miserable politeness. You can’t hear what they’re saying to each other, but Natasha comes over and starts talking to Hogan.

“Can you tell the valets that we’re going to need them in about five minutes? This powder keg is about to go off.”

“Shit, okay,” he says. “Did you catch what they’re--”

“She told everyone the party’s over, and he started complaining that she’s no fun,” Nat says, letting her gaze slide over you as she frowns back at where Stark’s stepped forward to address the crowd again.

Hogan's body language screams concern as he says,“All right, both of you stay out of the way if the crowd starts for the door, all right? Pretty sure he’d have my ass if either of you got trampled.”

With that, the bodyguard jogs out, and you can hear him calling to other people outside, indistinct but insistent.

You’re trying to come up with something not profane to say to Natasha about how you feel about all of this when Stark shouts something about an After Party and the crowd goes wild.

To be continued...

In this version of Tony's party, you're the only one in red! I'd like to think fate would adjust things to ensure that happens, even if it's not the version we see on screen.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x f!reader #tony stark x you #iron man x reader #iron man x f!reader #iron man x you #iron man #tony stark fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #tony stark #mcu fanfiction #tony stark imagine

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knifegremliin · 1 year

Text

i wish i had a more recent photo of him, but i thought you guys should see the man i lost

these are very old, but still pretty accurate photos. his left ear was crinkled though from a cauliflower ear. pressed pretty close down to his head so he looked like he had a folded ear. and he was much skinnier at the end, though his cheeks were still round.

his name was treasure.

#🔪.text #my pets #treasure #i miss him #he was a sweet bastard #terrible vampire cat when he was younger #but in his old age he mellowed out and became very sweet #but would still try to bite your hand off if you tried to give him a treat #always had to drop them on the floor or he'd probably bite you

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xxsabitoxx · 8 months

Text

Breed | Kinktober

Satoru x AFAB Reader + Higher Up Suguru

Warnings: Mild dub-con, fucking with the intent of getting pregnant, creampies, pussy eating, voyeurism, drunk sex, use of pet name "princess", Satoru talking you through it, Satoru having a big ass cock ngl hehe, biting

A/N: Day 4... I got really carried away. Lordy lordy... enjoy

WORD COUNT: 6.2K

You swore you didn’t hear him right, your eyebrow cocking upwards as you opened your mouth to say something but Satoru beat you to it. “You want us to do what?” he sounded just as lost as you, face twisted in a grimace as he hoped his best friend would say it was nothing more than a sick joke. “I want the two of you to breed.” Suguru repeated with his easy going smile, eyes shifting between the two very concerned faces before him.

Ever since becoming a higher up in the Jujutsu world, Suguru had started to change.

“You… you’re joking, right?” You laughed a bit, eyes shifting to the white-haired man beside you to try and see how he was taking it. Sure enough, Satoru looked completely confused, blue eyes scanning his best friend’s face for some kind of inkling that this was all a prank. “I’m not joking, quite the contrary, I’m dead serious.” Still though, he was smiling, completely unphased. “Yeah, bull shit… I don’t know why you’d think it’s okay to make such a–”

“The higher ups and I have been discussing things. Since the two of you are undoubtedly the strongest of our generation, we want you two to produce children. We want to know if you’ll create sorcerers just as strong, if not stronger than the two of you.” You felt yourself stiffen, immediately off put that he had totally interrupted you to spout the most foul shit you’d ever heard. “We aren’t some fucking experiment.” Satoru stated blandly, arms coming up to splay across the back of the couch you two were sitting on. Suguru still seemed unphased.

“I don’t see why you two wouldn’t accept the offer.” You gasped, feeling Satoru stiffen beside you as Suguru said such blatantly ignorant shit. “Why wouldn't we accept? We aren’t even a couple! Never mind the fact that you want him to breed me like I’m some bitch in heat?!” you practically screeched, still partially believing this was a sick joke. Suguru’s smile faltered a little now, a crack in his facade that sent a shiver straight down your spine. “You two would be wise to accept the offer. I’m giving you a choice. The rest of the higher ups would not.”

“You’re not giving us a choice.” You immediately countered, mildly aware that Satoru’s arm was lowering a bit, as if to wrap around you protectively. “Oh but I am, dear y/n.” His hands clasped in front of him, that smile creeping back up his face as his eyes shut. You both shared a glance, eyes returning to Suguru as he exhaled and opened his eyes again. “Either the two of you fuck and let me watch, or the higher ups will sit in and watch you instead. I’m giving you the choice to do this comfortably or do this in front of many watching eyes.”

“I decline both options.” Satoru said with an air of annoyance, not willing to subject you to anything you didn’t want. “That is not an option, Satoru.” Suguru immediately countered, eyes shifting over to you. “Really what is the harm in this? You two can have some fun and then go on with your lives.” Suguru tried again, not grasping how this was a huge deal. “You want me to get her pregnant, Suguru. That is not something you can just move on from.” You remained quiet, still reeling from the fact that Suguru was dead serious. “Not only that but you are looking me dead in the eye and telling me this hypothetical child would be at the whim of the higher ups.”

Suguru knew how strongly Satoru felt about this matter, he had since their high school days. For the man across from you to be so blindly devoted to this inhumane experiment, he must have been brainwashed. “Suguru… did they threaten you or something?” Your voice was a little weaker now, Suguru may think the two of you only have two options, but you knew Satoru well enough to know a third. If it came down to life or death, Satoru would choose death. Not of you or himself, but of the hierarchy in the Jujutsu world. You were both strong enough to do it.

“Not at all, dear y/n. I just think this would be highly beneficial for not only the two of you but the rest of the jujutsu society. The Gojo clan needs an heir, if you two were to produce a child, it would bind both the Y/L/N clan and Gojo clan together. It would be utterly unstoppable with the two of you at their heads, a perfect child to take the reins when that time comes…” Satoru made a fake gagging sound, lifting his blindfold with one finger to look at Suguru. “Don’t tell me you really believe all that bull shit they’ve been feeding you.” Suguru’s calm aura faded completely at that, smile dropping from his face as his eyes became cold.

“Either we do it the easy way or the hard way. You fuck each other, or they’ll force it upon you. I, as your friend, implore you two to take the easy route. I mean really, even if she doesn’t get pregnant, at least you’ll have had a good time, no?” That clicked something in your mind, body straightening a bit as you mulled his words over in your mind. “I’m not going to fuck someone who isn’t willing, Suguru.” Satoru sounded completely uninterested now, letting the blindfold snap back into place as you sat up a little more. “Satoru…” you started, turning your body to face him. His head snapped in your direction, the tone of your voice was different.

Knowing he could still see you with the blindfold on, you turned your body and pressed yourself a little closer. Carefully, you brought your lips to his ear, using one hand to hide your mouth so Suguru couldn’t read your lips. “Why don’t we just play along, Satoru?” You swallowed, face feeling a bit warm as you settled again so he could reply. Much to your surprise, he turned his body so he could lean and whisper against your ear. You half expected him to just blurt his answer out. You held your breath as Satoru’s breath ghosted your ear, large hand easily blocking his face from Suguru’s view. “I don’t want to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

You sigh, letting him move away so you can press your lips to his ear again. “I’m fine with it, we can have fun with each other, can’t we?” you pulled away, shrugging your shoulders to say the decision was his. Satoru huffed out a laugh, one arm still draped over the back of the couch as he used the other to pull at his blindfold again. “Suguru, name a time and a place. We’ll entertain your request.” Your heart skipped, trying to remain composed as Suguru gave the two of you a sly smirk. “I’m glad you’ve made the right choice, we have a few things to discuss before we decide those main factors I’m afraid.” Still, he seemed thrilled at the thought.

“Then discuss them now, Suguru. If we are doing this, you need to act fast before we change our mind.” you appreciated that Satoru was now speaking for the both of you. It was giving you time to properly sort out your thoughts. “No need for such hostility, Satoru. I just want to figure out when the best time is for dear y/n. After all, she needs to be ovulating when you do this.” You stifled your shudder, you weren’t fond of being discussed like some dog that was about to be bred for his own personal gain. “I’m due to get my period in about two weeks time.”

You were lying, your cycle had just passed. But you knew if you told him you were currently in your ovulation period, the sooner this could be done and over with. “Well would you look at that, I came to you at the right time.” Suguru smiled, clearly he had done a little research beforehand. Beside you, Satoru was visibly confused, clearly having no understanding of a woman’s cycle. Not that you really expected him to in the first place, but you had to admit it was a bit amusing. “If that is the case, Suguru. Why don’t we get this over with, here and now?” you drawled, falling back into the couch and subsequently, Satoru’s arm.

“That works for me, does it work for you, Satoru?” You and Suguru were both looking at him now, a sigh leaving his plump lips before speaking. “Yeah, works for me.” Somewhere in the back of his mind he couldn’t quite believe you were willing to do this, especially after being so adamant about not wanting to. Something Suguru had said clearly convinced you, though he couldn’t be quite sure. “That settles it then, I’ll treat the two of you to drinks for accepting my offer.” You snorted, pushing yourself up and off the couch. “I expect a lot more than drinks, Suguru.” you patted your skirt, flattening any wrinkles that had formed while sitting.

“Dinner and sweets!” Satoru added, standing to his full height and stretching dramatically. “What he said, Suguru. You owe us big time.” You crossed your arms, watching your long time friend look between the two of you before heaving a sigh. “Alright, fine. Dinner, drinks and sweets.” Satoru cheered triumphantly, slinging an arm over your shoulder as you headed out the door. “Only one drink for Satoru though, he’s a lightweight and needs to perform.” you couldn’t help but snicker, Satoru’s face turning a shade of red as he yelled at Suguru for saying such things.

“It’s the truth and you know it, Satoru.” was all you managed, trying your best to keep up with the pace his lengthy legs set. “Who’s side are you on?!” he pulled you a little closer, nearly crushing you to his side. “I guess I should be on yours, shouldn’t I?” you teased, trying to ignore the new found flurry in your heart when you talked to him. But part of you couldn’t help but wonder, did he feel it too. Of course you would let your emotions start to toy with your mind, knowing full and well what would happen within a few hours time.

—

“S-shit… oh fuck…” Satoru choked out, blindfold pushed back and sitting on his head like a headband. Your teeth were sinking into the junction between his neck and shoulder, making his hips jerk up against yours. Suguru had cut Satoru off after one drink, the white-hair man getting more than tipsy off of it because of his low tolerance. You, on the other hand, had been three drinks in when Suguru cut you off. Having a better tolerance than Satoru did not equate to you being any less sloppy. Suguru was quickly learning that, eyes wide as he watched the two of you make out on the couch within the hotel room he had rented for the night.

You hadn’t even made it to the bed, your hands all over each other the moment he swiped the card and the door unlocked. Needless to say, Suguru didn’t think he would be in for such a ride. “E-easy! Fuck… y/n please!” Satoru whimpered, fingers digging into the flesh on your hips as you bit a little harder. You wanted to taste blood, desperate to leave a permanent mark on the man below you. Though, even in your intoxicated state you still had a heart. You eased up, lapping at the indents on his skin to try and soothe the damage. Satoru’s hips were restless, bucking into yours every few seconds. Each time your clothed cunt met his covered erection, a wave of molten heat spread through your already too hot body.

Behind the two of you, Suguru was getting comfortable in the plush chair that sat in the corner of the room. He had only consumed one drink, a buzz settling under his skin but not impairing him enough to let you two have free reign. “Don’t you dare waste a drop of his cum, if you’re going to grind on each other like horny teenagers, at least strip.” You audibly whined, looking over your shoulder to glare at Suguru. Though it wasn’t threatening at all, you looked like a child trying to intimidate an adult. “You heard me.” was all Suguru responded with, his tone demeaning as your face flushed. Satoru took your distraction as the perfect opportunity

You gasped, body falling forward against his as his fingers dug into your thighs. Hauling you up, Satoru made quick work of tossing you on the queen size bed, the white sheets quickly crumpling as you fell onto it. “You heard him, strip.” Satoru’s voice was mocking, and yet he was quickly undoing the top half of his uniform. You rolled your eyes, clearly disgruntled by your dominance being stripped from you. But you couldn’t complain, your skin was prickling with sweat, your own uniform sticking to you uncomfortably. Your fingers fumbled a bit as you undid your top, shouldering it off after a moment with Satoru’s eyes glued to you.

“You need help?” he breathed out, looking at the fabric of your bra hugging your breasts perfectly. “No, I’m fine…” always stubborn, you undid the button on your wrist and yanked your arm out, repeating the motion on your other arm with a little struggle. “Done yet?” Satoru’s knee sunk into the mattress, hands coming down to press into the linen as he waited for your “okay” to crawl on top of you. “Yeah, done.” you groaned, tossing the white button up at Suguru who managed to catch it. Maybe your reflexes really were slowing down from the booze. Satoru sighed, crawling fully onto the mattress and connecting his lips with yours.

Your hands came up to wrap around the back of his neck, legs spreading to accommodate him as you slowly laid back. You had to groan into the kiss, Satoru’s teeth grazing your lower lip for entrance only made you feel more defiant. You were slightly pissed he had moved so fast, you hadn’t even gotten the change to admire his toned torso. Which was something you had been most looking forward to, you knew the man was built but he was always hiding it under his uniform or baggy clothing. One of Satoru’s hands was splayed by your head, supporting him so he didn’t crush you under his weight. The other hand was cupping your cheek, trying to coax your stubborn jaw open for him. Still, you were managing to resist.

“Such a tease, y/n.” Suguru cooed from his spot, hand shamelessly adjusting his half-hard cock. Of course he’d enjoy this, how could he not? Satoru pulled away, gasping as you stared up at him. “She is, won’t open that pretty mouth for me�� so cruel.” he whined, cheeks flushed pink as he dipped his head lower to return the favor you had paid him earlier. This time, it was your turn to gasp, fingers digging into the back of his neck since there was no hair to grab… curse him and his undercut. Satoru’s teeth were sinking into the same point on your body, making a mark that would match the already bruising bite you left behind on him. “F-fuck! Satoru!”

Your eyes shut, the warm pain blooming on your neck was only making the throb between your legs worsen. “I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be a masochist and a sadist at the same time.” Suguru mused, watching your eyes open slowly, head turning to glare at him. Still, he only smirked, fist pressed into his cheek as his other hand now began palming himself. You looked away, skin vibrating with the realization that Suguru was also getting off on this. “Satoru… ease up!” you whined after a moment, the feeling nearly dizzying as he finally released the skin he had clamped down on. Perfect teeth indents were left behind, the slight swell of blood appearing in some of them. He swallowed, throat dry at the sight.

“So pretty…” he murmured, head lowering to lap at the mark before trailing his lips up your neck and jaw. “Let me taste you this time, please?” you nodded, dazed as he slotted his lips over yours once more. You were a little easier on him now, mouth opening to accommodate his eager tongue. You shivered as you tasted the slight metallic blood mixing with the fruity cocktail he had consumed earlier. You were envious, he had managed to break your skin but you hadn’t been able to break his. No fair! Your fingers scratched at his skin the more you thought about it, pressing your head into the mattress to create a little distance so you could catch your breath.

“Please…” you gasped out, unsure of what you were asking him for. Yet, he seemed to understand perfectly. Satoru placed one last kiss to your slightly swollen lips before his head dipped lower. Carefully, he kissed down your neck to your chest, burying his face in your sternum, cradled by your breasts. “Can I take this off of you?” He asked even though he knew the answer was yes, still you nodded. Satoru’s hand slipped around your back, the other still supporting himself. You helped by rolling over a bit, allowing him to nimbly undo the clasp of your bra. He tugged it off of you, holding in a shaky breath as he admired your bare skin. Your nipples were pebbling under the cool air of the room, making your cheeks feel warm as Satoru clearly observed them.

No words were spoken as his head lowered again, tongue running along the valley between your breasts before making the decision to go left. You tried to suppress your noises as his nose dragged along your skin, his tongue leaving a wet trail as he lapped around the pliant skin. He made a point to avoid your nipple, wanting to tease you until you were squirming. You sunk your teeth into the side of your cheek, not willing to give in so easily, still annoyed you were being dominated. “C’mon sweetheart, let me hear that pretty voice.” Satoru pulled away enough to speak, chlorine blue eyes shining even in the dim hotel light. You held his gaze for only a moment before looking away, lips wobbling as he returned to sucking bruises on your breast.

A quiet, barely audible sigh left your lips, and that seemed to be enough for Satoru. A loud gasp slipped out of you as his lips wrapped around your nipple, tongue flicking across the sensitive bud before he sucked. It was a dizzying feeling, each movement sending a shockwave of pleasure straight down to your cunt. You wanted to feel him, every single inch, that realization tore a moan from your lips as your fingers moved from his neck to thread in his hair. “Satoru… I don’t want to be teased…” You could feel your panties sticking to your cunt as you squirmed, the feeling mildly uncomfortable until you found the right angle. If you moved just right, you could brush against his erection.

This earned a low groan from Satoru, his teeth grazing your nipple in retaliation. Suguru was still watching, amused as the two of you toyed with one another. “Satoru please!” you cried out again as his teeth actually sunk into the tender flesh, making your eyes water as you tugged on his hair hard enough to pull his head away. The only issue was that he didn't let go, you tugging him away from your chest only caused him to pull at your nipple. A shrill cry left your lips this time, hands immediately letting his hair go as his head lowered to a more tolerable distance. You were panting, your heartbeat racing as Satoru’s free hand moved to cup your other breast.

He was putting all of his weight on his knees, but that didn’t stop you from feeling the brunt of his weight. “Satoru…” you tried again as he finally let go of your nipple. Still, he didn’t answer you, slim fingers tugging on your other nipple as his eyes focused on yours. You looked completely fucked out already, pupils blown and eyelids heavy as you stared up at him. “Gonna fuck you real good, princess.” Your lips parted at the nickname, not expecting it to have such an effect on you. “Then get to it.” you whined, missing his warmth the moment he straightened. He was towering over you know, giving you a full shot of his muscular torso.

“Can I take your skirt off?” he asked for your permission yet again, eyes shifting to where his blindfold sat by the pillows. It had slipped off his head when he took his uniform off, but he had the intention of using it for something else later on. “You can, please…” breathless, your hips lifted so he could hook his fingers in the waistband and tug them off of you. Satoru did just as you wanted, pulling your skirt and panties off in one go. You sighed in relief, not at all embarrassed this time when Satoru shamelessly admired your bare cunt. “Pretty.” It was more to himself than you, either way it made you whine.

“I want to see you, Satoru.” You whined, arms reaching out to try and grab for his waistband. Your hands missed, making you burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to push yourself up. Satoru smirked, undoing his pants with leisure as he looked you over. “You were doing so good at hiding the fact you’re not sober.” He comments, watching you give up and flop back onto the bed with your legs spread around him. He had managed to get his pants off without making a fool of himself. As for his briefs, they were still hugging his hips, straining tightly as his hard-on pressed into the soft material. Behind you, Suguru was chuckling at Satoru’s comment.

“Yeah, you’re just as bad as she is if you think she was hiding her intoxication.” Still, he was mildly impressed that Satoru had stripped as far as he had without falling over. “Hurry up and pull your cock out.” you groaned, tired of the men’s banter. There was a time and place and it wasn’t now, when your cunt was aching with the desire to be filled up. “Fuck…” Satoru hissed at your words, reaching down to push his briefs, ignoring the way Suguru groaned at your desperation. You swallowed the moment his cock sprang free, slapping up against his abdomen and nearly pulling the air from your lungs. He was big to say the least. Not only that, he was girthy, the kind of girth that would hurt no matter how prepared you were.

“Damn…” was all you managed to croak, lip trembling a bit as he got his briefs off the rest of the way. Satoru smirked, your reaction stroking his ego in perfect time with his fist stroking his cock. You met his gaze, silently begging him to do something. Satoru took the initiative, grabbing under your knees and pushing you further up into the mattress. “Don’t work, I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt…” You wanted to ask what he was about to do, but your answer came seconds later as he lowered himself onto his stomach, half of his body hanging off the bed as he settled between your spread thighs. You tried to suppress the strangled noise that left your throat as Satoru’s nose dragged along your inner thighs, shamelessly inhaling the smell of your arousal.

“S-satoru!” you squealed, hands coming up to cover your face as he groaned. “You smell so fucking good.” You whined, thighs twitching to close around his head but his hands managed to stop you before you could successfully do it. Your head tilted back, too embarrassed to look down at your body and see Satoru start kissing your inner thighs. Suguru watched with dilated pupils, adjusting himself yet again in order to properly monitor the two of you. If he gave into his desires, who knows what the two of you would do. So instead, he sunk his teeth into the side of his cheek and watched you diligently. “Satoru~” you whined as his tongue licked up your folds, not going any further, just covering them in the slick shine of his saliva.

Your back arched off the mattress the moment his teeth sunk into the underside of your thigh, pain blossoming under the pressure and earning a shrill cry from your lips. It was so sudden that it was nearly dizzying, earning breathless whimpers as he lapped at the now bruising skin. “Sorry…” though you could tell he wasn’t “… you’re just so biteable.” You wanted to scold him but you were too lost in the sensation of his mouth returning to your cunt, letting them fall open for him with ease to give him the access he desired. The first time Satoru’s tongue passed over your clit, you were certain stars were dotting your vision. He knew better than to poke and prod anywhere else, focusing every ounce of his attention on the pulsing bud below his tongue.

You felt your thighs tremble, hands twisting in the sheets as you tried to suppress the surplus of whiny moans that slipped out of you. Satoru’s tongue was just as nimble as his fingers, swiping across the sensitive flesh in rapid succession before his lips wrapped around it. You tugged a little harder, the sheets going taut under your fingers as Satoru sucked on your clit just as he had with your nipple. “Fuck… oh fuck… please… just like that… suck it like t-that…” Somewhere in the back of your mind you were mortified for uttering such things, but you couldn’t help but notice the coil in your abdomen tightening with each syllable you spoke.

It seemed to have a similar effect on Satoru, the man groaning audibly against your bare cunt as his teeth grazed the tender flesh. “S-satoru!” you stuttered out, stomach tightening as his teeth sent a bolt of electricity straight up your spine. The only give away that he heard you was the way his fingers dug into the soft skin of your thighs. You were already close, too overwhelmed by the sensations Satoru bestowed on you. Satoru could tell by the way your sticky arousal was coating his chin each time he grinded his own face into your cunt. He wanted to suffocate on you, dying by your pussy would easily be the best way to go.

The thought made his hips buck into nothing, mind drowning in the thoughts of shoving his cock into you and doing just as he so boldly refused only a few hours earlier… pumping you full of his cum so you would bear his child. He wanted to utter the filthiest things to you but he knew if he paused for even a moment, that sweet relief you were clearly craving would fizzle away and you’d be back at square one. And at this point, anything that further delayed him delving into your warm cunt felt like pure torture. One of your hands managed to uncurl itself from the hotel sheets, reaching down to instead thread through Satoru’s silky soft white strands.

You tugged, albeit a little harder than you probably intended, and smothered his face even harder into your cunt. Satoru audibly whimpered at the pain of your tugging, only sending your stomach into a summersault as your orgasm dangled dangerously in front of you. “Satoru please!” you wailed, head tossing back again to make contact with a clearly turned on Suguru. “Go on, Satoru, you heard her, make her cum.” he encouraged with a shaky voice, his tone a lot more wobbly than it had been all night. That made you moan even louder, knowing how visibly turned on he was by this whole thing… and to think you had been so against it at first.

Satoru grumbled something but it was muffled by your cunt, sending vibrations straight through your core. It didn’t take much more than that, his tongue licking so eagerly at your clit had you spilling all over his face. Your ears ring with the force of your orgasm, Satoru’s touches turning light enough to work you through it without overstimulating you. As much as Satoru wanted to lap up every ounce of your release, he knew he needed you to be sloppy to be able to take him. So, reluctantly, after a few chaste kisses to your now puffy clit, he pulled away. “Do you need a break?” he spoke with a slight pant, face flushed and shiny from his own sweat and your arousal.

“No… fuck no. Please, Satoru, I want you inside of me.” He couldn’t deny that request, judging by the groan Suguru let out, he wouldn’t deny it either. “Alright.. Fuck alright…” Satoru was getting back on the bed fully, grabbing your ankles and lifting them. You had no time to even squeal in protest before Satoru was folding you into a mating press. “Y-you haven’t even entered me yet…” you wheezed, your knees nearly touching your breasts as the over six foot man settled more of his weight onto you. “Shh don’t worry princess, this will be worth it.” any protest died on your lips, the nickname of his choosing made your body feel warm all over.

Satoru got himself as comfortable as he could, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to truly settle until he pushed his way inside of you. Ever aware of his size, Satoru ran the slightly swollen head of his cock between your puffy folds, letting your arousal cover him. He held his breath, too enthralled by the way yours caught in your throat each time he bumped your clit. “It’ll hurt a bit at first but it’ll ease up pretty quick, okay?” His alcohol was wearing off but it was no match for his pussy drunk daze. Still, he was going to walk you through each thing he did, blue eyes sparkling with tender reassurance. You nodded, chewing on your lower lip as he positioned his head at your entrance. “Just relax, princess…”

You nodded, inhaling deeply before slowly letting it out. Satoru timed your breathing with his movements, pressing into you as you exhaled. Your breathing stuttered just a bit as the bulbous head of his cock split you open, stretching you wide and making you flinch. Satoru stopped, whispering soft praises before he kept his hips moving. “It’ll be more uncomfortable if I just stay in place, let me bottom out.” You nodded, your hands holding onto the backs of your thighs as Satoru kept pushing his length into you. When he noticed tears starting to shine in your eyes, he cooed soft reassurance to you, ignoring how his cock was pulsating between your fluttering walls. “I’m almost all the way in, the worst part is almost over.” He smiled a bit, thumb brushing your knee where he held it. You couldn’t recall ever being with a man that had a dick this big.

“Rub her clit, Satoru. That will help ease any of her discomfort.” Suguru chimed, hand blatantly palming his erection as he greedily observed. “Good thinking.” Satoru hummed, the hand he had been using to guide himself into you now moved to rub gentle circles on your clit. Stars exploded in your vision as the uncomfortable stretch turned into blinding pleasure. Your walls clamped down around him, earning a barely audible whimper between his endless praises. “Yo-you’re taking me so well, I’m sorry it’s so big… oh fuck you’re doing so good f’me princess.” Satoru whined, bottoming out as he tried to regain his bearing before fucking into you. It was nearly impossible to stay still, but the last thing he wanted was to hurt you in this way. He would later argue that the bite marks you bestowed on one another were different from this.

“Are you okay?” He breathed out, looking at you with lidded eyes and parted lips, making your heart stutter in your chest as you nodded on autopilot. Satoru smiled, settling his body onto you better and really solidifying the mating press he had maneuvered you into. “I’m gonna start moving, princess. Just tell me if I get too rough…” his arms hooked under your knees, forcing your legs wider and further up as he found himself a good position to roll his hips into you. Your hands shakily reached up to rest on his shoulders, shivering as Satoru’s head came to bury in the crook of your neck. Even from Suguru’s perspective, he couldn’t tell where you started and Satoru ended, completely engulfed in one another as Satoru began to find his rhythm.

Your hands quickly turned from resting to grabbing, breathless whines leaving your lips as Satoru’s cock dragged in and out of your already sensitive cunt. He felt heavy and warm despite being enveloped in your suffocating heat. You could feel the slight upward curve every time he passed over one particular spot, it wasn’t long before a slick squelch emitted from where your bodies connected. “Oh fuck… oh fuck…” Satoru whimpered against your neck, losing himself in the slipper embrace of your cunt. “So good.. Fuck you feel so good… you’re so wet…” he nearly sobbed into your neck, drunk off of your body as his hips relentlessly fucked into you. “Gonna fill you up so good, princess. Fuck so–so fucking good.” he continued to blabber, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as pleasure racked his body over and over.

You were too far gone to respond to anything, loud moans falling from your lips as you tried to convey how he was making you feel. Each connection had Satoru’s balls slapping against your ass, earning a low whimper into the crook of your neck, right over where he had bitten you. “Make sure you tell me when you’re cumming, Satoru.” Suguru spoke in a slightly raised tone, between the noises you were both making and the noises your bodies made each time he slammed into you, Suguru needed to be sure he was heard. Satoru only lifted his head a bit to mumble a “sure”, vision blurry as he sloppily slotted his lips over yours. The kiss was nothing short of a mess, tongues and breathless pants colliding as drool seeped down the sides of your mouth. Your abdomen was tightening again, an orgasm prickling in your gut as Satoru’s pubic bone managed to rub your cunt with each messy thrust.

“Gonna cum… ‘toru…” You slurred, this time your impending orgasm felt a little more relaxed, a warmth spreading through you as Satoru hovered over you. He was studying your face intently, lips a pretty shade of pink and slightly swollen from your kisses. He was close too, but his ability to speak seemed to be robbed by the way your cunt clenched around him. No words could get past his lips, nevermind form in his brain. Satoru’s hips bucked into you a little harder, your whole body shaking with the force of his blows before finally, he was stuttering into you with a loud groan. Your own orgasm hit you shortly after, making your body quiver as Satoru spilled his seed into you. His hips were rocking still, fucking his load deep into your awaiting womb. “So… fuck take it all… take every last drop, Princess…” he had given up on making sense, half of his words stumbling over the other as you tried to remember how to breathe.

The room finally fell silent, Satoru’s body was still mildly restless as his hips slowly grinded into you. “Well done, you two.” Suguru’s voice earned a groan from the two of you, in your post-orgasm haze, you had forgotten he was there. “You can relax for a few minutes but you’ll have to start round two soon… oh, and Satoru? Don’t you dare pull out of her, keep every drop inside.” Satoru’s body nearly collapsed on you fully at that. “Round two?” He rasped out, limbs feeling like pure jello. “Yes, round two. We have to be thorough. If this doesn't work, we’ll have to keep trying until it's successful.” Suguru was once again displaying a nonchalant behavior regarding the whole thing. “Fine by me.” you slurred out before Satoru could even complain, clarity hitting him like a freight train until you uttered your approval.

If you were okay with it, then so was Satoru. He didn’t think he’d be able to give up a cunt like yours after tonight, whether it was part of Suguru’s breeding plan or not. “Alright then, whatever you want, you get.” Satoru murmured, lowering again to kiss you tenderly.

#kinktober 2023 #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo smut #satoru smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo #satoru #gojo x you #satoru x you #satoru x y/n

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bigguyenthusiast · 3 months

Text

141 and their captain’s assistant

- it all started with a comment made by Laswell, she mentioned to John how tired he seems, how his eye bags are growing heavier each day passing

- she recommended him to get an assistant, John declined the offer and tried to get back to work, but laswell already made the call, she knew how annoying John can be when it comes to getting help

- then enters a pretty little thing, your hair in a messy bun, glasses neatly resting on your pretty face, short pencil skirt hugging your curves perfectly

- John couldn’t help himself from staring, gawking at you like some horny teenager

- the boys began seeing you scurrying around the base more often, the first to approach you was Johnny of course

- his deep voice partnered with his thick Scottish accent made you subconsciously bite your lip, staring up at him with your big doe eyes, you don’t even mean to, it’s just that more than half of the people in here were 6feet+

- Johnny’s flirtatious nature made you giggle, lightened up your day, but not your boss’

- every time the Scott decided to drop by your desk to accompany you, he’d get scolded by his captain

- “don’t need you distracting her from her job”

- “it’s her break, cap, plus, she’ a good lass, I’m sure she’s on top of…all her work” the scott would throw you a wink before his captain orders him to run laps around the base

- next came gaz, since he’s always visiting his captain’s office for reports, he saw you at the new desk in the captain’s office, the aura around you not matching anything in the dim, old and boring office, you gave him a slight smile before returning to your paperwork

- but gaz wasn’t going to let that be the end of your interactions no no

- he’d walk up to you in the mess hall, as you’re loading your plate up, striking a conversation with you, making last long enough for him to lead you to a table with his other teammates

- you shyly but politely sit down and introduce yourself to the masked man who sat opposite of you, his brown eyes staring into yours as his arms stayed locked, he just nodded and replied “ghost”

- you figured he’s not a social one, the Scot and the Brit both kept asking you questions, some may have been a bit intrusive but maybe they’re just being friendly !

- “so why ar’ ye here?”

“Kate laswell requested that I work for John price for a few months to ease the paperwork load on him”

- “I’m sure there’s a different kind of load he’s trying to get you to ease off of him”

- the three of your heads snap to the silent man, his brown eyes seemed to be crinkled, suggesting he was grinning or smirking underneath that mask

- “OI! LT’s got jokes, but he doesn’t mean anything by it” Johnny tried to reassure you, glaring at Simon as you looked down at your food

- you excused yourself as you made your way back to price’s office, you saw him still there, no signs of him moving at all “captain ? Did you eat today?” You asked sweetly

- oh what this man wouldn’t give to have the honours of eating you for every meal of the day, to have you sprawled on his desk, papers sticking to your sweaty skin, your chest rising and falling as you try to quiet yourself so nobody hears what your captain is doing to you

- “captain” fuck he’d love to hear you moan his rank, begging him to be gentle, but he knows deep down you’re a dirty girl and you want your “captain ?!”

- John snapped out of his daydream, he looked up at you, you were leaning to the side trying to check on him “have you eaten today?” You asked again, a worried look in your eyes

- John nods, not looking you in the eyes “yeah yeah” he cleared his throat as he tried to get back to work, but your soft, smaller hand stopped him from grabbing his pen, his brown eyes looked up, ab eyebrow raised as if to ask ‘what are you doing?’

- “I’m sorry, captain but I can’t allow you to get back to work if you haven’t had food” you stated, your body trembling as you stood your ground

- truthfully, price can easily launch you across the room with one arm, he knows his limits, and you’re nowhere near it, but you were right, he does need to eat, and although he wishes he could order you to spread your pretty thighs for him and let him have his fun, he doesn’t want to lose such a pretty sight so fast

- he let go of the pen, leaning back on his office chair “I haven’t brought any food”

“The mess hall still have some food there”

- “I don’t eat that rubbish”

“Well too bad, you need to eat”

- ooh… I guess his little kitty got claws now

#call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #ghost x reader #captain price #ghost #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kate laswell #john soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz x reader

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gyuswhore · 8 months

Text

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (1)

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut tags in part 2

(Comments from @toruro): "oh shizzle", "yeah bitch", (on jihyo) "mother", "ME X HAO FIRE EMOJI", "men (derogatory)"

[A/N]: Tumblr is annoying and won't let me post the entire 40k in one go so i have to break it up (part 2 is out tomorrow!!!) i hope you guys enjoy this, thank you for all the love on the teaser, i hope this is able to live up to the hype, thank you so much for being patient with me <33 (ty @toruro for encouraging me when i felt shit ab this gkjnrgvkjrng and beta-ing ofc)

As someone who could vomit at the mere thought of throw-up, you tried not to stare into the toilet bowl as you emptied your guts in this questionable club bathroom.

It was proving to be easier than you’d anticipated, naturally, when your eyes were blurred with bubbling tears. Were they because of your wretching or the feelings that churned in your heart? You can’t be entirely sure, nor can you find yourself having the mental strength to figure out. There’s a banging on the door behind you, one that sends your already aching head into a hurling spin.

“Open the door, I have water for you, it’ll help!” You hear Mika blare from the other side, concern lacing her voice.

You try to blink the tears away but they cascade down your cheek anyway, rubbing at them furiously before preparing to haul yourself off the disgusting bathroom floor. Taking a deep breath was a horrible idea, you realize when an atrocious mixture of scents hit your nostrils, cringing visibly.

Washing your hands at the sink took you another five minutes, scrubbing furiously at your palms and nails with the dollar store soap the club graciously placed in a fancy dispenser, pumping more than a normal amount to rid yourself of the paranoia of tainted hands.

Unfortunately for you, your palms were tainted with entities beyond mere soap and water’s powers.

It was evident with the way you exited the bathroom feeling perhaps worse than you went in. Mika was nowhere to be seen in the hall, moving along to the private room where the rest of the group was to find her springing up as you enter.

“You weren’t answering, so I left. Here, water, I told you to be careful with what you drink; you haven’t had a bite to eat either.” She reprimands.

“Sorry,” you smile sheepishly, not having a reasonable excuse to give her.

Joshua peeks over her shoulder, “You feeling any better?”

The water is slow to go down as you sputter before replying in a hoarse voice, “Yeah. Way.”

To be fair, the water did help. But it was you who was the problem, blaming the alcohol for the behaviour all your friends knew perfectly well where it was stemming from. Not a word was said though, for your sake or their own. You wrap up quickly after that, Joshua insisting to drop you off home himself, quoting how Seokmin would have his head if he left you in the hands of a taxi driver in this state — age gap be damned. You can only thank him as he pulls up to your destination, hoping you’ll remember this in the morning to return the favour in the future.

“Before you go, can we talk for a second?” he piques, halting you as you remove your seatbelt.

“Sure, yeah. What is it?”

“I’m not gonna ask if you’re doing alright, not when you’re gonna give me the same answer as always. But…please take care of yourself. You’ve been drinking quite a bit lately, and it can’t be helping you at all”

You listen to him silently, not a thought in your brain. But you nod anyway.

“Thanks for looking out, Shua. I’m…I’m probably not gonna be going out for a while, you’re right,” you reply, quietly, a small smile on your face that you can only hope is reassuring.

“I don’t mean lock yourself up, either. You don’t give yourself a break and then try to make up for it by drinking your self faint every week, that’s never gonna help you. You know that.” He speaks in a soft, soothing voice, a hand coming up to pat your hair before landing on your clasped hands on your lap. “You know what, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night, we can go the fair just me, you and Seok-”

“I have class tomorrow.”

“Like showing up hungover is gonna help you retain any information. Just skip.”

You sigh a deep exhale, deciding to simply be upfront. “I kinda just wanna stay home for a while, going out’s kinda making it worse. I think rotting in front of my laptop’s what I really need right now”

Throwing in a tinkle of a laugh, you hope you’ve sold yourself.

“Alright,” he sounds slightly unconvinced but doesn’t push you further, “I’ll drop in to bother you tomorrow though, don’t try stoping me”

“Okay,” you say, smiling a little wider. “I’m gonna go now, goodnight.”

“Wait!” he stops you once again, right before your about to shut the door. “Have you talked to Mingyu at all?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Shua. Night”

With that you’ve slammed the door of his car shut, missing the ghost of a “goodnight” that leaves Joshua’s lips as he watches you walk inside the building.

“And stop staying out so late at night! What were you supposed to do if Joshua wasn’t there?” Seokmin rants as he walks back and forth grabbing you water and pills as you finish your forced breakfast.

“Take a taxi?” you suggest sarcastically.

“What? And get me called to the station to identify your body parts when some dude decides he wants to play cannibalistic butcher?” he screeches, and it has you wincing and grabbing onto your head at his volume. You dramatize it a little, hoping he’d shut it with his nagging if you gained some extra sympathy. He doesn’t stop talking, but he does tone it down.

“Whatever, I’m not going out anymore.” You push your plate and bowl away as you hop off the stool and stalk off to your room, making as much noise as possible in the process.

Your brother calls after you, but you don’t stop. Your head was pounding,

“Are you gonna take your meds? HELLO? Or do you enjoy the feeling of having your head split open?” he slams open the door of your room mid-sentence, going on at your blanket-clad figure on the bed.

“I’m going back to sleep.”

“No, you’re taking your fucking meds.” A cup of water is thrust into your hands as you pick up the pills from Seokmin’s open palms, swallowing before he decides to shove it down your throat himself.

He waits on the edge of the bed, checking to make sure you actually swallowed the pill instead of hiding it under your tongue like you’ve done since you were kids.

“I’m not stopping you from going out if that’s what you think I mean,” he starts, a lot softer this time, and you’re taken back to your conversation with Joshua last night. “You’ve been going out and coming home wasted a lot more than normal lately. I don’t know if it’s because your college agendas are finally catching up to you or what.”

“I’m just…My friends are always out and I wanna be with them, it’s normal,” you grumble, disappearing deeper into your sheets.

“You’d tell me if something was bothering you, right?”

‘Yeah, yeah, now shoo. Your voice is making my head hurt worse, I doubt Advils are immune to your yapping.”

“Fine, fuck you too” he mumbles, leaving the room only to pop back in a second later. “Mom called last night, told her you were at a study group. Might wanna call her back before she catches a flight herself.”

You wave two fingers up in a salute from your flat position on the bed, hearing him close the door. You don’t sit up until you hear the TV blare from the living room, knowing he had parked himself on the couch and has his attention diverted.

The headache wasn’t actually that bad, you just really wanted to be left alone, and your brother had a habit to do the opposite when asked, so it had to be done.

What on Earth were you supposed to tell him, anyway? That his best friend in the whole world rejected his sister on the spot when she confessed her decades long feelings? That she was ruining her liver and kidneys every weekend over a rejection? By his best friend in the whole world?

Yeah, that’s an easy conversation.

Snuggling into the covers you try not to think back to the abomination that was your birthday party just a few weeks ago, but your thoughts yank you there anyway, as if to remind you of every wretched detail of the encounter like it was wasn’t already burned into your frontal lobe like a brand.

You were on a high; too happy, too excited. It’s not like you were expecting anything for your first birthday at uni anyway, you were too old for pink blowout parties and too young for the madness of college level clubbing. You were excited for takeout with your brother, to sit in front of the TV for the rest of the night, maybe even stick a candle in one of your burgers and call it your cake. Plans were changed when you walked into your home, ready to wind down for the night and celebrate in your own way.

It was a full house, food and drinks everywhere, complete with a loud “SURPRISE” as you walk through the door. You remember hugging both your brother and Mingyu when they tell you they did all of this for you, an overwhelming feeling overcoming you as you grip them tight, hoping it’ll transfer all the gratitude you couldn’t express.

You’re breathless as the night progresses, trying hard to focus on the conversations at hand, trying to be a good host. Failing miserably, you can’t force your gaze from wandering every few minutes, searching for Mingyu in the crowd, watching him move his mouth as he talked, throw his hair back as he laughed, smile that beautiful, beautiful smile of his, perfect teeth on display.

It had been bliss these past few weeks, the lingering smiles he would give you, the flirtatious attempts never gone unnoticed. The smoothest of words slipping right off his tongue as he gave you eyes that twinkled and sparkled and blew air directly into the embers in your heart. You would still yourself as they would happen, like the mirage would crack and shatter if you even dared to breathe; it felt unreal. After all these years, you realised soon, Kim Mingyu may have began to like you.

You’d be lying if you said you were completely sober when it happened, drinks were passed around and as the birthday girl you didn’t seem to have a choice to back down, already a little hot and wide eyed barely halfway through the night.

And when Mingyu doesn’t interact with you all night, you go to him as the numbers in the house dwindled, cornering him as he collected bottles in the kitchen.

“Hey!”, he sounds enthusiastic, “You having fun yet?”

“Yeah, thanks again for doing this.” your remember fidgeting with your fingers and nails, digging them into each other as you let yourself spew.

“Are you gonna say thank you at every chance for the next six months? It's your first birthday away from home. Besides it was Seok’s idea, I just helped out.” He had said, beaming.

“Mingyu, can I talk to you about something…?”

You sigh loudly as you replay the memory, face pushed into the covers as you bite back a scream at the blood rushing to your head.

Stupid. Idiot. Absolutely brainless.

“Oh.” He had breathed out when you had spilled your entire heart out to him standing in that kitchen, visibly taken aback at your abruptness. “I…I’m sorry I’m not quite sure what to say.”

You still remember that sickening feeling, that big ball of junk and emotions that sank lower and lower in your abdomen, settling a deep hurt in your chest that made it difficult to breathe.

Laying in your bedroom, weeks after the fact, you can still feel your breathing go slightly erratic at the memory, hot tears springing your eyes, burning before you wipe them away. You were aware how baffling it was, how you were letting it affect you to this degree, but you justified it with the years you had remained quiet, yearning on the sidelines.

You deserved to wallow in this pit.

At least that’s what you thought. But after last night you wonder if you had stopped indulging in the sorrow and let it ruin you instead. A sigh escapes you at the thought of ending yet another night in a dirty bathroom, makeup smeared and guts removed, misery becoming the only thing you were allowed to feel in the aftermath.

You reach for your phone on the bedside table, flicking through your unread messages, barely registering a word as you leave them opened and unanswered. There wasn’t an ounce of willpower in you even after a full night’s sleep, turning your phone off before shoving it in your bedside drawer, forgotten. You take a moment to stare at the ceiling, having no energy to get up to turn your lights off. Until the doorbell sounds.

Of course you knew who it was the second you heard, but the voice paired with your brother’s conversing outside was enough to have you catapulting out of bed. You slap your hand over the switchboard, turning off all your lights, moving across the room to pull your curtains shut, cascading complete darkness in the room. You fly under the covers as a last effort to convince, covering your face with the sheets just as you hear a knock.

The door creaks open slightly as Seokmin calls out your name.

“Are you up? Mingyu’s here, he brought coffee.” He whispers slowly. You don’t respond.

He calls out your name one more time before you hear the door click shut. You don’t move till you hear his muffled voice on the other end, “She’s knocked out, her head was hurting, better let her rest.”

Heat pricks the sides of your face as your body finally relaxes, borderline embarrassed at how you were hiding from him like a middle schooler who thinks she’s in love. Which you were at one point; now you're a college kid who thinks she’s in love.

You try not to focus too much on the sounds coming from outside, burying under the covers to attempt at sleep for real this time. Eyes screwed shut, you can’t help but open them at every other intonation. There was no way you could figure out what they were saying if you tried, between the door and the TV, it was all a taunting buzz in your ears.

You do end up falling asleep. But only after you hear the droning of the TV turn off, and the distinct goodbyes as the front door clicks shut.

Keeping to your promise, you stay away from late nights for the next couple of weeks. Joshua so far as commends you for declining invitations, offering dinner on him on one particular phone call.

“You know, I was serious when I said I was proud of you.” Joshua voices solemnly as you attempt to cut a strip of meat onto the grill. You snort as a response.

“I wasn’t like, an alcoholic, you’re making it sound worse than it was.”

“It was still bad for it to affect you in that way. Takes a lot to get back up from heartbreak”

“Especially one that’s lasted for nearly a decade.” You sigh as you give up on the meat, handing the scissors and tongs over.

“Are we still talking about that?” He raises his eyebrows.

A smile makes its way to your face, nibbling on a radish, “No.”

“Good. Because we need to talk about if we want our noodles hot or cold.”

“Seok! SEOK! Where the fuck did you put my pimple patches?” Your screams echo across the house yet garner no response. Opting to yank open the fridge, you dig through through the box of face masks to find them possibly laying at the bottom, forgotten. Seokmin bounds into the kitchen, towel in hand as he pats at his damp hair.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you huff, shoving the unfruitful box back into the cabinet, "you used up all the patches.”

“Patches? Pimple patches? We’ve been out for a month, just use this tube in the drawer.” Pulling open the drawer, he rummages for a moment before emerging with a sickly yellow tube of what looked like poorly marketed toothpaste.

“You want me to put this on my face?”

“Yeah, it works, zit on my nose was gone by morning.” He stuffs the tube back in the drawer not before squeezing a small amount on his fingers to dab on your face.

“Ew, get your dirty hands away from my face.” You grip his wrists before he tries to move in further.

He does nothing but shush you, shaking off your hands as you grumble in silence, letting him finger paint on your face. You move up to fix a roller on your head, undoing it before rolling the bit back in, resulting in another “tsk” emitting form your brothers concentrated face.

“Okay, enough! I don’t have that many zits.” You pull away as Seokmin moves to wash his hands.

“Are you going to bed right now?” He asks as you move over to the door.

“Yeah. I’m not going to sleep, though.”

“Gyu’s coming over, you were asleep when he was here last too.”

It seemed as though every bone in your body rattled against your flesh.

“When is he coming?” You ask quickly, frozen in your spot.

The doorbell rings.

“Right now, I guess.” He snickers to himself.

You can only watch in mild horror as he moves to open the door, words escaping you. You follow behind him, trying to stop him, yet not doing much other than reach the front door yourself, fingers frozen yet mildly trembling.

“Wait!” You finally whisper-shout, “Don’t open it!”

Seokmin pauses to give you a look, “Why? He’s seen you look worse, it’s fine”

The door wrenches open before you can protest any further, a cartoonish moment of the hunched figure of you, hands out in a nearly there grip. You’ve failed, and the chorus of ‘hey’’s reach your ears in almost a mocking manner. There’s a conscious effort on your end to not look up too high, keeping to chest eye level for your own sanity. What you find once your vision clears from the white blur, is that there’s not one, but two people at the door.

Mingyu’s brought a girl.

Standing behind the door meant there was no immediate attention on you, which should have been a perfectly good opportunity for you to book it to your room, but you don’t. You stand there instead, staring at the back of their heads like a child in wonder.

Once you are noticed by your brother, he winces at your appearance, a silent apology, like he didn’t know about this new guest either. Or he was apologising for what he was about to do next, you wouldn’t know, because you wouldn’t be hearing him out when you throttle him later.

“This is my sister”

All three sets of eyes are on you now, a moment of silence as they take in your appearance. The grandma nightgown, in all its blue and collared glory, does absolutely nothing to boost your confidence in front of the very pretty lady, whose hair cascades down her back, whose skin stands as clear as a summer sky.

“Hi!” She breaks the awkward silence first, “I’m Jia, it’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about the both of you.”

What?

“Mingyu has a hard time keeping his mouth shut, I’m not surprised.” Seokmin tries to joke as he motions for the couch in the centre of the room. You catch him kicking a stray sock out of the way as he urges them to sit.

With the way your brother is acting, you don’t doubt this is his first time meeting this girl. Mingyu is yet to clarify why he would bring a friend to the house unannounced, but something tells you you already know. You remain on the sidelines, inching away to the hallway slowly, trying your hardest to not bring attention to yourself.

“I haven’t seen you around campus ever, are you new?” Seokmin prods, his voice slightly on edge.

“Oh, um-” Jia begins but is cut off by Mingyu as he speaks for her.

“Jia doesn’t go to our uni, we met at Seungcheol’s, we’ve been dating for a couple months.”

There it is.

“Oh! Couple months? How come I didn’t know?” You don’t miss the hurt laced in your brother's words, your fists clenching slightly at the oncoming silence.

“That’s on me, sorry. It’s just…I didn’t want anyone to know ‘cause I thought he was playing around when he said he liked me, I wanted to see if he was being real or not.” She laughs nervously, and you see the back of her head move as she talked. You can’t help but note the arm that’s swung across the back of the couch where she sat. “Please don’t be mad at him! I promise it was me that stopped him.”

You don’t hear too much of what happens afterwards as you slip away into the crevice of your bedroom, standing in the entryway in absolute silence, attempting to absorb what you had just witnessed outside. Approaching the full length mirror on the other end, it takes a lot out of your to bring yourself to look straight into it, regretting it immediately as you acknowledge your appearance.

Of course, the woman who actually succeeded in winning over the man that rejected you had to witness you in the unappealing yellow paste that your brother graciously dotted all over your face, not leaving the giant rollers in your hair to cut you any slack either. You could cry about it, but you don’t. Instead you lay back in your bed, sniffling in the dark, just as you had the last time Mingyu was over.

It’s significantly easier to drown out the voices this time round, especially when your mind is preoccupied with a couple months. Your birthday was a couple months ago, does that mean they started dating right after that conversation? Or were they already offical and you had waltzed in with your princess dreams about your brother’s best friend being in love with you.

It made perfect sense at the time, and no sense at all anymore as you wonder why on Earth he was being so forwardly flirty with you if there was another girl all along. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you recall how he had quit perceiving you altogether after that night, and you can’t help but mentally commend Jia for testing him by keeping it quiet. Especially when he was going around flirting with his best friend’s sister.

It didn’t take long for you to guage Mingyu’s reputation when you first dropped into university, the senior having made himself a reputation none less similar than he had in high school. He was popular, but with his outgoing personality and a face like that it was hard not to be liked. Your brother was right there beside him, living it up as carefree college kids, suddenly remembering he now had a little sister to tend to. You were grateful for the both of them for being there to help you take your first baby steps, all the rites of passage and which professors sucked the least, not leaving the leaky water fountain to never drink from.

That was when Mingyu’s (supposed) advances had begun.

You’re projected back to first semester, when both of them had dragged you to the same couch outside, talking about an “important thing you should know”.

“You walk into class one day, expecting nothing out of the ordinary. Your professor drones on as usual, your classmates look bored as usual, you’re tired as usual. But then!” Seokmin breathes in sharply, and you hear Mingyu bound to the other side of your vision, emerging on the opposite end of the room with a backpack swung over his shoulder.

“The man of your dreams walks by…” Seokmin continues and you snap your head towards him in a panic, suddenly afraid he had found you out. He’s busy though, making ethereal hands in Mingyu’s general direction, while the latter walks in comedic slow motion like he’s in a K-drama b-roll, complete with passes over his hair and a nonchalant yet controlled expression.

“What is this about?” It comes out snappier than you had intended, but you’ve had one scare already.

“Just!” your brothers hands turn from graceful to clenched, like it was you he was trying to squish you for interrupting him, “Listen, alright?”

“The man of your dreams walks by,” he goes back to his narrator voice, “and you wonder where he’s been all your life. You start talking, you’re enamoured. You start thinking about introducing him to your parents, what your wedding’s gonna look like, what your kids are gonna look like!”

Your face is becoming increasingly warped the more you listen to him speak, not being able to fathom where this was going.

“But no!” It’s Mingyu that speaks this time, pushing a jolt out of you as he slams the backpack on the floor, pointing directly at you for added effect, “You’re better than that!”

“What the fuck-” you start, but are shushed by a physical finger on your lips as Mingyu shushes you. Seokmin slaps his hand away.

“Our point is, that you’re probably gonna come across someone who you think is your next boyfriend.” Your brother continues, “But lucky for you, you have two seasoned professionals here to tell you that it’s nothing but fresher’s fever.”

“It’s a new place, new people, loads of new experiences; you’re bound to latch on one of the first couple pieces of meat. Our advice is don’t, because it will happen to you. But you also now know that your just in a deluded stage right now. Give it a semester before you start dating people, trust.” Mingyu finishes for Seokmin as he thumps down on the couch next to you.

“So all of this was just another stay away from boys lecture?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Yes and no. You can date whoever you want,” Seokmin answers coolly before quickly adding, “but not right now.”

It was laughable, the thought of latching onto another person when you’d been trying exactly that for years. To have anyone catch your eye, to have anyone sweep you away from this madness that came in the form of Kim Mingyu. Neither of these seasoned professionals had a thing to worry about though, because you weren’t latching on anything that came out of this institute. You had already done so, in a stage more impressionable than this, years and years before any of them knew of the dangers of young girls and new boys in their vicinity.

“Okay, I know you’re like on a self inflicted party ban and all that…” Joshua starts the second he places himself at your table, still haggard looking from jogging across campus.

“Don’t even try.” You warn with filled cheeks.

“Girl, let him finish.” Nayeon chides next to you.

You exhale through your nose heavily, going back to pick at your tray as Joshua continues.

“Cheol’s throwing a little party tonight to celebrate the end of midterms.” He starts, “You should come, it's only gonna be a handful of people.”

“A handful?” You repeat, unable to bite back the amusement in your voice.

“Come on, your brother’s going as well! You’ll be fine, I promise we’ll keep you in check.”

“I don’t need to be kept in check, I’m fine.” You grumble.

“Perfect! Nothing stopping you then, I’ll pick you both up at 8.” The words are barely out of his mouth before he’s back to sprinting out the vicinity, garnering looks from oncoming traffic, off to his next pestering destination

“I don’t think I’d explicitly agreed.” You voice.

“He got what he wanted.” Nayeon snorts, “Whatever, we’ll get ready at my place after this.”

“Weren’t you guys worried about me? Now you’re actively dragging me to parties.” You drop your utensils onto the tray.

“Too much of either isn’t a good thing, you went from forgetting what home looks like to exclusively holing yourself up in there.” She stabs a piece of potato with a chopstick and tries to pry it in your mouth. “Besides, Cheol’s parties are always super intimate, they’re all gonna be people you know, don’t worry.”

‘Super intimate’, as Nayeon had put it, had amounted to at least fifty people as you take in the crowd at the floor of the house. Despite not being packed to the brim, it was still coming out to look like a full house, random items already scattered across the floors in true frat party fashion.

“Do you want a beer?” Nayeon asks, dragging you to the kitchens by the hand as you crane your neck to spot people.

“Uh, no. Is there juice?”

“Um, there’s a questionable looking fruit punch.” she wrinkles her nose at the blaring red bowl on the counter.

You sigh, grabbing a cup, “I’ll risk it.”

Joshua was air the second he had walked in with you, whisked away to socialize with his own hoard of acquaintances, leaving both you and Nayeon to fend for yourselves. You’re yet to spot your brother, granted you’d only been here a mere five minutes, his rowdy demeanor making him quite easy to spot in usual circumstances.

Taking a casual sip of the electric red liquid you’re forced to make a face as you register the flavour, alerting Nayeon, who was too busy fiddling through multiple crystal bottles.

“What? Is it bad?”

“What the fuck is that?” You sputter in astonishment, wondering how the bowl was already half empty. “Who’s drinking this stuff?”

She grabs the cup from you before taking a gulp herself, emerging the same gagging mess you were, eyes watering at the taste. It seemed almost comical when Seokmin shows up behind her, waiting to greet only to find both of you doubled over. His eyes move over to the potion in Nayeon’s hand and passes a knowing look.

“He’s brought The Whole Shabang out of retirement.” He states like it was the obvious answer.

Nayeon spits first, “Are we supposed to know what that means?”

“Cheol got drunk one time in freshman year and mixed every ounce of alcohol he owned into one big bowl of despair. We retired it last year when the bowl broke and stained his counters. But anyway, beginners are supposed to dilute it before downing it.”

“That’s great and everything but why is it so red?” You ask.

Another voice speaks from behind you, turning around to find Seungcheol himself. “There’s an entire thing of food colouring in there, gives it an edge don’t you think?”

“I’m scared of you.” You deadpan, a sour expression remaining on your face.

Seunghceol is quick to suggest the backyard for some fresh air to distract from the flavour it’s left in your mouths, commenting on the nice weather. Neither him nor your brother stick around for too long though, dipping at the holler of their names somewhere inside. You’re comfortable though, despite being blocked off by a concrete railing, the stairs make a nice haven for the both of you to lie down and stare into the clearer than usual sky. Cheol was right, it was nice outside.

“I can’t lay down like this, I need to get a drink.” Nayeon announces not even five minutes later.

“Why didn’t you get one when we were there?” You groan, but she doesn’t respond as she hops back inside, throwing a promise to be quick in the air behind her.

The wall supports you as you deflate into it, legs sprawled across the steps in disarray. Nobody could see you anyway, taking full advantage as you practically manspread. The side of the pool that’s in your vision is empty by grace; calm save for the giant flamingo floaty that bobs itself into view from the edge of the wall you lean against. A breathy laugh leaves you at the sight.

The railing on your other side is mostly concealed, you can still make out the wicker sofa set, complete with an unlit fireplace. It’s unoccupied, for the time being, as you register a conversation floating closer and closer to your ears. Wondering if Nayeon had brought friends, you stand up quickly to look over the railing to check for her face over the sliding door that leads inside.

There’s no Nayeon in sight.

But there is Mingyu.

His mere presence knocks your butt back onto the concrete the second you see him stumbling over the threshold with a hoard of his friends, nothing short of his picturesque party strut. There was little reason for you to hide from him at all, considering the very possible notion that he would look right past you if you happened across his line of sight. Space floating in, he’d ignore you for your sake or his own, perhaps even both.

For now, he’s seated himself with a few other people on the wicker sofas, leaving you hugging your knees to your chest, head on the concrete wall with the lingering feeling akin to that of a trapped mouse. Closing your eyes, you blow out air in an attempt to relax yourself, take light of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You could get up and leave in this very moment, possibly go unnoticed if you stalked back inside before they began their rattle not meant for your ears.

And yet, you find yourself unable to move, not even when you hear their topic shift to Mingyu’s new beau. Suddenly you wish you’d moved inside the moment you saw him.

“Was it you that stopped Jia from coming to parties?” You hear somebody ask.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Mingyu grumbles, he pauses and you assume he’s taking a swing of his drink. “We started going out and suddenly she didn’t wanna come, that’s fine though, it isn’t her vibe anyway.”

There’s a snigger that moves across everybody seated, you hear loud thwack before Mingyu speaks again, “What’s so fucking funny?”

“This girl’s made you work for it, huh?”

“Isn’t that like, his brand? Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one yapping about liking a challenge all the time.”

“Yeah, remember Minji?”

“I still think she was only pretending to not like you, her clique was always smacking at her to straighten up when you’d come over like we couldn’t see everything.” You could almost hear the eye rolling.

“Change the subject, will you?” Mingyu proposes, sounding exhausted at the prodding already.

“I apologise for the ex talk and nothing else.”

There’s a pause for another choke of laughter across the group, and you wonder what it was that they found so funny.

“I don’t know if I should say this…” Somebody begins, but is cut off by Mingyu.

“Then don’t say it.” He snaps, but you don’t miss his own jest.

“I honestly thought you were gonna date Seok’s sister at some point. I mean, common consensus is that bagging your best friend’s sister is… what you’d call a challenge.”

What the fuck.

You feel your eyes drifting closed at the turn this conversation has taken, wishing to simply fall asleep at what it’s come to. Somebody speaks up.

“Nah, that’s like, the grand slam prize, that one comes after he’s done hanging with the side quests.”

The situation is making itself out to be something out of a fever dream.

Mingyu tsks, and you note a jostle happening through the gaps of the railing. “I’m leaving.”

You find yourself hugging yourself tighter, eyes shut like he wouldn’t be able to see if you couldn’t see him. Not that it was possible unless he peered directly through the railing in his peripheral.

“OKAY! Okay! We’re kidding.” There’s a pause. “Okay, but really…”

Another pause, this time longer. You hate how you can picture the ghost of an exasperated smile on Mingyu’s face, a bite of his lip perhaps, dejected at the shoulder with his longing, distant look. You hate how your mind fills the gaps of him the railing won’t allow you to see.

“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”

There’s a chorus of hisses and oh’s, a few bounts of laughter in their disbelief. You can feel your stomach twist, heat pooling your figure.

It would’ve been better if his words had hit you like a gong, maybe the aftermath wouldn’t have felt as horrid. But the connotations crept up on you like a million spiders making their trek up to your brain, waiting to stick their crawlers in the bits that would allow those words to hold meaning for you. You can feel the electric red of Seungcheol’s god awful concoction begin to rise up in your throat like bile; burning, imprinting.

Mingyu had said what he had said. And everything was in it’s place, in finality.

Despite the nearly four year age gap, you and Seokmin had co-existed without the semblance of an older-younger duo. It was mostly owed to Seokmin's shy nature, and his difficulty making solid friends. That, however, didn’t last long as your brother progressed through middle school.

You had met Mingyu for the first time when Seokmin brought his first ever friend from school home for dinner.

Despite being barely nine years old and half spoon fed by your mother at the same table, the prospect of Seokmin’s new friend was equal to you having a new friend – which caused enough excitement as you brought your favourite cartoon books into your brother’s room to show this new person after dinner.

As the following year progressed, you saw less and less of your brother, and more and more of newer faces of ‘friends’ that you weren’t allowed to play with. It was distressing enough to be told by your mother that something of your brother’s was not yours, but even more so when you were kicked out of the room by Seokmin himself for the very first time.

It wasn’t as trauamtising as it felt in the moment, because you grew to find your own group of friends, doing the same as you’d kick your brother out for being annoying – except unlike you, he was doing it on purpose.

Mingyu was a recurring face, one that was nicer to you on the days your brother was meaner, more forgiving on the days your relatively new middle school was relentless. He fit himself in your life easier than you had realised, more comfortable than you soon found you were comfortable with.

“Did you take my guitar picks?” Your brother bursts into your room just as your about to fall into your after school nap, grip loosening on the book in hand.

Jolting awake at the sound of loud voice, you don’t respond as you attempt to orient yourself.

“Well? Did you?” He demands again.

“What? No, I don’t know where your stupid guitar pick is.” You grumble. “Get out.”

“It’s not in my room that has to mean you took it, where is it?”

Mingyu emerges from behind him, hand on his arm as he tries to pull his iron grip off of your doorway. “It’s probably just in your bag, you haven’t even looked!”

Kicking the covers off, you sit up in a disarray, progressively annoyed at your brother for ruining your perfect descent into dreamland.

“I don’t have shit, you just suck at keeping tabs on your stuff!” You grit.

There’s a stagnant pause as he stares at you from the doorway. You can sense it coming. And it does.

“MOM! SHE JUST SWORE!” He yells into the hallway, bounding to where your mother was, leaving an unsure Mingyu in your doorway.

Surprisingly, you were just glad he was gone, wanting to melt back into the covers. You make eye contact with Mingyu. “I really don’t have it.”

“It’s probably in there somewhere, he’s just not looking.” He mumbles, standing a little awkward. “Um, go back to whatever it was, I’ll close your door.”

He does so, allowing you to finally slump back into your pillows to go back to your nap.

You find out quickly that you couldn't sleep after that.

The controller is becoming increasingly uncomfortable to hold. It doesn’t help that you’re brother is chewing on his four additional pieces of gum behind you on the couch, making obnoxious comments about your gaming form.

You’re also sitting a foot away from Kim Mingyu on the floor, with whom you’re forced to battle out on Mario Kart.

“Why’re you clicking the buttons so hard, chill out.” You heat Seokmin say, continued by his wet chomping right by your ear.

“How hard is it to chew with your mouth closed?” Mingyu grits.

“What? Like this?” Seokmin leans over to Mingyu, chewing even louder, mouth wrenched open and closed right into his ear. Mingyu makes a sound before falling to his side, covering his ears at the ghastly sound, pushing him back with his free hand to shut him up.

You barely crack a smile at the unfolding, watching them continue to wrestle half on the floor. It’s noisy when you set your controller down, chest heavy, unfolding your legs to walk into the hallway to your room. Unnoticed.

You only reemerge to feed yourself, inspecting the fridge for possible leftovers. Settling on an apple, you’re closing the fridge when you see Mingyu walk in, seemingly taken aback to see you there. You freeze with your mouth still attached to the apple to take a bite.

“Oh! Where’d you go when we were playing? Didn't notice you gone till I got him to spit that wad of gum out his mouth.”

“Uh, just tired. Took a nap.”

He hums in response and you're just about to leave when he starts talking again.

“Hey, did you move the popcorn somewhere else? Could’ve sworn it was in here last week,” he mumbles as he rummages through a cabinet.

“Oh. Um. It’s in the pantry.” You move before you can think, grabbing the box and slamming it on the counter, pausing briefly before reaching for the popcorn bowl and setting it on the counter next to it. “Here.”

You don’t wait for a reply before grabbing your apple and moving out the kitchen, only to bump into your brother at the door.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Napping,” you say, moving around him to go your own way but are stopped yet again as he calls for you.

“We’re gonna watch a movie! You can lie on the couch.”

Turning around, you catch sight of your brother still in the doorway, and more intriguing, Mingyu also expecting an answer from inside the kitchen behind him. You gulp as you attempt to remain casual.

“Nah, I’m good. You guys have fun.”

You’re nearly at your door when you hear your brother speak. “She didn’t even ask what we were watching.”

Nayeon catches up with you before you notice, pulling your headphones away from your ears to announce her presence, not slowing down as you walked to campus.

“Are you still upset about that Mingyu thing?” She asks when noting your silent demeanor. “We talked about this, come on.”

“Yeah and we concluded that it’s not an easy thing for me to just get over.” You huffed.

“You know what he’s like…”

“Which is why I should’ve seen this all coming.” You turn around the corner with her.

“That’s not what I meant either.”

“I don’t know what came over me that day. I was doing so well for so long and I had to go ruin it because I’m – I deluded myself into thinking I had a chance.” You’re breathing heavily when you find a table in the air conditioned common room, yanking your bag off and slumping into the sofa. “None of this would’ve happened if I just shut the fuck up.”

“What wouldn’t have happened?” Seungcheol plops down next to Nayeon, butting into the conversation.

“Aren’t you intrigued.” Nayeon muses.

“Especially when it’s none of my business.”

“Charming.”

“Anywho,” he sighs, throwing himself back against the couch. “I’ve been tasked with rounding people up for an assignment.”

“Are you gonna experiment on us?” you ask, referring to his chemistry major.

“Nah, this is for an elective. Faculty needs volunteers for a photography class.”

“So they need models?” You ask.

“I mean, anyone who signs up is automatically a model, so yeah they need models.”

“Are we getting paid?”

“You get to say you modeled for me.”

“How convincing.” Nayeon deadpans.

You’re stifling a snicker as you see Joshua walking up to where you were sat, planting himself next to you.

“What’re we talking about?” He asks, pulling his laptop out almost immediately.

“Nothing, just how Seungcheol needs a reality check,” you sigh.

He barely acknowledges the comment, going straight to business typing away. “Hey, you're staying for the summer right?”

“Ew,” Seungcheol voices.

“I am,” You confirm.

“For what?” He sputters.

“Is this you offering to pay for a round trip?”

He silences quickly after that, giving room for Joshua to ask his next question.

“Are your parents coming for your brother’s grad?”

“Mhm, only for the night, though.”

“Oh, did you hear back from the bookstore too?” he asks.

“I’m gonna apply right before break, I’m swamped right now.”

“Let me know when you do, the restaurant might need another hire, you could work there if you want.”

You make a face. “Appreciate the sentiment but I don’t think I’m in the right state of mind to be working in customer service.”

Joshua’s hands freeze over his keyboard as he breathes out a delayed laugh. Nayeon mimics him.

“Right state of mind?” Seungcheol’s eyebrows are furrowed. “Wait, what were you talking about before I sat down again-”

He’s cut off by a voice bellowing your name from across the common room. All four of you perk up at the sound, locking in on Mika aggressively pointing her wrist at you from yards away. You sit up with a jerk, checking the time. You were nearly thirty minutes late for your lecture.

“Josh, move.” You basically climb over him to get out of your seat, waving a hasty goodbye as you sprint to an exasperated Mika.

“I’ve been waiting outside the hall for ages, you said we’d go in together!” she chides as you both speedwalk.

“Sorry, I lost track of time…” You huff out a breath. “I just started talking about…whatever.”

“Why’d you have that face on in there?” she asks.

“Huh? Oh, I was-”

“Nevermind, I don’t wanna know.” She picks up the pace and reaches the door before you do, rendering it impossible for you to speak to her after that.

You’ve forgotten about it by the time you come home to an empty house, both Mika and Nayeon in your arms. It doesn’t take long for them to make themselves comfortable on the couch, looking at you expectantly like children waiting to be fed. You do that, courtesy of the half eaten pizza that sits on the coffee table.

“I think you need to get drunk,” Nayeon voices from her end of the couch.

Mika is immediate with her response, “Don’t encourage her.”

“Hey!” You pout, “I haven’t gotten drunk in a while.”

“Keep it that way,” she shudders, “don’t need another Mingyu fiasco.”

Your chewing slows at the sound of his name, a strange feeling settling in your stomach at the thought of him. Setting down your half eaten slice, you brush off your fingers.

“I mean…” Nayeon starts after a long pause.

“We don’t. Need another Mingyu fiasco, I mean.” You cut in.

“If only he’d learn to shut up.” Nayeon grumbles, a sour expression on her face.

Mika’s been shifting looks between the both of you, seemingly confused. “Am I missing something?”

Despite not having the intention, you find yourself telling her what you heard while enclosed in the staircase. You attempt to keep it concise, for the sake of your own sanity, but Nayeon’s grumbling is only pushing you deeper into a rant. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t let a couple frustrated tears make their way down your face.

Mika’s response as brisk as your explanation was passionate, brushing over the topic quickly before you got too heated. You appreciated it.

“Have you considered signing up for the photography thing?” Mika asks.

“You know, I was thinking about that too.” Nayeon pulls a finger up in signed patience to wait till she finished the remaining pizza in her mouth. “You should do it. It’ll put your mind off…him. You’ll be busier too.”

“I have a million things to do, I’m busy enough.” You retort.

“You’re busy studying at home. Where he could drop in at any point of day.” She points.

Your open your mouth to rebut again, only to close it as you fail to find a reason to deny her point. “Okay, still!”

“Just – think about it, okay. It’ll put more on your plate but maybe it’ll help.”

That was the last of your Mingyu talk, not that you could carry on when your brother comes slumping into the house after his class, stealing a slice of pizza as he makes his way to his room. He’s slumped at the shoulders, and you egg him to take a nap before he collapsed on the living room floor.

Both Nayeon and Mika are quick to leave after that, leaving you with leftover pizza and your thoughts.

You sprawl your things out on the coffee table, taking advantage of the silent house to get some work done. Nayeon was right, as you think of the prospect of Mingyu entering at any given moment to bother your brother as a constant threat.

It’s not until your prepping dinner with Seokmin that the project is brought up again.

“There’s leftover Chow Mein Mingyu made yesterday, shove that in too.” He yawns as he pushes the box over.

You can only stare at the box in mild agitation, contemplating if you should simply chuck it into the garbage chute. Unfortunately, by experience, you knew Mingyu made really good Chow Mein, so you begrudgingly slide the opened box into the microwave to heat up, deciding you’d push Seok to eat it before you have a chance to take a bite.

It’s silent while you eat, Seokmin still in a daze from his earlier nap, shoving spoonfuls of noodles in between bites of pizza. It’s not until your halfway through eating before he jolts up slightly like he’d just remembered something.

“Did you hear about that volunteering thing from the photography department? They want models for some project.”

“Oh, yeah.” You pause, thinking back to what Nayeon had proposed. “Are you gonna sign up?”

“No, but you should.”

“I don’t know, I still have a lot of prep for finals.”

“You get extra credit if it helps,” he notes.

That was news to you. There’s a frown on your face as you deny, “No, you don’t.”

“They’re doing it ‘cause they weren’t getting the response they wanted. I found out just now too, they’re gonna put it up on the bulletin tomorrow. Might wanna decide before then.”

There were no questions asked after the realization, blue light of the laptop casting your face aglow in the darkened room as you hit the big blue Confirm button on the website. Skimming through the subsequent email, you find you won’t be needed till next week, the date and time making it’s way to your calendar.

Now, if you had known what the next week truly held for you, there was no doubt you’d be sending in a cancellation email at first chance.

But you didn’t know. So you simply went to bed, falling asleep to the vague idea of searching for modeling tips on youtube during the coming weekend, entertaining the mild possibility that this might be the thing that puts you at peace at last.

The photography classes are held in regular lecture rooms, as you find out as you file into the sparingly filled hall at the date your calendar has graciously alerted you for. There was an image of a larger, more spacious area for a discipline pertaining to the arts, yet to be fair, the idea of having to create this form of art within a four walled containment did seem a little counter productive.

Nonetheless, you find yourself seated in a spare chair, waiting for the clock to hit nine on a Saturday morning for the shuffling professor at the front of the room to begin. Your eyes make passovers across the gradually filling room, searching for a semblance of Seuncheol’s bright blond hair to wave him over. There’s no sign of him five minutes before the minute hit twelve, and you’re thinking about slipping to the restroom before it can to kill the remaining time.

There’s another person filing into the room as you rise from your chair, and you pause in attempt to recognize Cheol in the grey zip up.

Except you don’t find Seungcheol, not at all.

Mingyu is walking into the classroom, gaze sweeping across the hall as he seats himself in the front bottom row, head thrown back as he sifts through his perfect hair with his fingers.

You aren't sure why your brows furrowed like they did, or why you planted your butt back onto the chair with the force that you did; especially when all you wanted to do was book it out of the room in full velocity.

He was taking this class. Of course you knew that, especially when it was all he would yap about at any point he graced your presence.

You can feel your purpose in the room fade to nothing as you register him as a unit. You want to blame someone, but you know it’s all you fault. You knew he’d be here; if your mind had only thought fit to remind you at any point in the past week.

In regular Mingyu fashion, if he’d seen you, he does nothing to show it as you find him unraveling a loose thread off of his jacket. You keep your eyes on him, remaining mortified at your blatant disregard to the information that Mingyu was also in this class. Come to think of it, it was probably Mingyu who told Seokmin about the added credit in the first place. You want to kick yourself for not questioning your brother’s apparent magical source of information.

There’s nothing that can be done as you feel Seungcheol finally slip into the seat next to you just as the professor in the front of the room begins to speak. You’re not in the right headspace to make conversation, so you're grateful for the small acknowledgment as the professor begins to drone.

“Each student has been given a theme to work with, they’re all different and given to the people whom I saw fit for the job. You’ll be receiving your packets with your theme today, so remember to pick them up from the front desk before you leave,” she begins.

“As for your models,” she switches to the next slide over to reveal a spreadsheet full of names. “Their names will be right next to yours, the photography students.”

The entire room lurches forward as a unit, eyes squinted and whispers exchanged as they search for their partners in the sea of names. Seungcheol is zooming in on the picture he took with his phone, eyes zooming over to find his name.

“Hey, I found yours!” he announces, moving the phone over to you.

He’s zoomed into your full name on the screen, and your moving the picture aside to see the name across from it. Except, you find you wish you hadn’t.

—Kim, Mingyu.

If you needed more confirmation that the universe was simply against you, you’d gotten the message as you prayed the letters would morph into something else before your very eyes.

You seem to have been staring at the name for too long, because Seungcheol snatches his phone back from your grip to see for himself after you refused to answer his questions of what the name next to yours was.

“Oh, it’s Mingyu! That’s easy, you're basically related.”

You wanted to slap him.

Before you can stop him, he’s yelling the boy’s name across the room amidst the growing chatter, the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. “Mingyu! I found your model, she’s right here!

You wanted to squeeze Seungcheol’s neck till his head popped off.

Mingyu turns around at the call, registering his friend’s words despite the growing noise. He registers you and you watch as he turns his head back at the projection, like he was confirming it was true.

Of course he’s as petrified as you are, if not more. But the embarrassment of his apparent disbelief made its hot way into your stomach and chest nonetheless, your breakfast threatening to make its way back up.

By the time the professor’s done with her bit and the room has begun to file out, you’ve found yourself standing outside the lecture hall in uncomfortable movement, shifting your weight between both feet and fiddling with the straps of your bag. Every passing face sends a jolt though your stomach as you calculate how jarring it would be if you left right this second without seeing him.

You're counting his steps inside your head, how he’d shuffle for his name on the packet he’s meant to receive, counting in any conversation he’d start with a friend or with the professor. A thought occurs to you, and you wonder if he was searching for you inside. You’re weighing between walking inside and leaving altogether when he makes the decision for you, walking out of the room, booklet in hand.

There goes the toast blaring its way back up your esophagus.

“Hey,” he says unceremoniously.

You respond with an unreasonably meek “Hi.”

“Seok didn’t tell me you signed up for this.” He points casually.

Well, Seok doesn’t need to tell you everything.

“Oh, I told him while he was like half asleep, pretty sure he thought he dreamt it.”

Mingyu snorts a little at that, a slight smile appearing on his face as he pictures a sleepy Seokmin.

“I can imagine,” he says, before he’s brought back to the matter at hand by you.

You clear your throat before you begin to talk, expression remaining neutral. “Do we need to get started right away?”

“Oh.” He seems a little taken aback at your forwardness. Like he didn’t know why you didn’t want to make small talk with him. “Uh, I don’t even know what theme I have yet. I’ll read over the packet and plan a couple things out before you have to come in.”

“That’s great.” You hold on the straps of your tote. “Text me when you need me.”

With that, you had spun on your heel and stalked away, not leaving room for him to retort with anything at all. You don’t look back.

Nayeon can do nothing but gape as she watches you hold back frustrated tears, picking apart the grass under you as you curse the heavens for your horrible fate. She’s absorbing the situation as you wallow, finding the words to say.

“Fuck, this is my fault,” she breathes out.

“No!” You gasp out, furiously wiping away the irritating tears. “It’s not. I just forgot, it’s my own fault. You were right for trying to get me to do it, it just…”

“You can’t ask to change partners?” she asks.

“I can’t!” You wail, “I’m supposed to not care, how is this me not caring?”

It was ridiculous. Truly. You were sobbing like a child over this, screaming about wanting to not care. But you did care. Too much. Nayeon can do little but hold you as you sniffle into her lap, feeling sick to your stomach at your own childish behaviour.

“Why am I crying about this, this is stupid.”

“You’re stressed, hon, that’s it. You’ve got a lot going on and this just multiplied it.” She’s running a soothing hand over your back. “Just let it out, you need it.”

You emerge from your hunched position to sit up straight, sniffling a little less as you calm down. “Should I withdraw from the project?”

“I mean, if you really want to,” she says softly.

“But?” You sense her apprehension.

“But, maybe you should give it a go.”

You can only blink at her with wet lashes.

“Think of it this way. You need to… build resistance, keep yourself around him regardless. There’s bound to come a point where you start to feel…nothing.”

“Are you trying to work exposure therapy on me?”

“Maybe? If that’s what it means. If you take yourself out of the project, it shows that you care. You need to pretend to not care before you can stop feeling the real thing.”

There’s a pause as you attempt to find reason in her words.

“Listen, I may be talking out of my ass, and if you do end up doing it, it’s gonna be hard – like a lot, but–”

“No. You’re making sense.”

“I am?” She blinks, taken aback at the realisation that you may be listening to her. You nod quietly, “You’re right, I can’t keep running away.”

“So, you’re gonna do it?” She confirms with wide eyes.

Once again, you find it within yourself to nod.

Yeah. You were gonna do it.

Being in Mingyu’s presence and feeling nothing may be the goal, but you realise quickly it’s going to take you a while to restrain the trailing eyes that follow him wherever he goes. Nayeon had warned you, but you realise you may be slightly ill-prepared.

The theme is light. Vague to you but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He isn’t looking at you as he talks, eyes darting between the laptop screen and the plethora of papers he’s scattered on the coffee table. “I don’t really have a colour preference for this one but a a deeper blue or a purple would fit pretty well with the sunlight on here.”

You can only nod along in mild understanding, most of your effort exerted on trying to keep your eyes on the screen where he’s pulling up a color wheel. “I probably have something.”

“Do you still have that button up Seok bought you? The one with the stripes?”

You recall the deep blue shirt your brother had gotten you for your first in class presentation, picturing it hung still in your closet. “Uh, yeah I do. I’ll wear it.”

“Bring options, whatever fits the colours. No turtlenecks or crewnecks though…” Mingyu continues to talk, taking notes for you in the process. Your mind, however, is somewhere else.

You hate how your mind takes you to a murkier place, one where the thought of him retaining memory of your closet pieces unprovoked has your neck tingling and your cheeks lifting. Trying to snap out of it before he notices your dazed expression, you pretend to flip through the couple papers in front of you, noting nothing.

“Other than that–” he’s cut off by his phone ringing on the table. Both your gazes dart to the caller ID, and you immediately wish you hadn’t as you register the pink heart on the end. Jia was calling.

He barely spares you a glance as he excuses himself in a mumble, something about being back in a second. You watch him leave through the cafe altogether, emerging on the other end of the glass walls in your direct vision. For the nth time that day, you find it impossible to tear your eyes away from his positively elated face, teeth out on display as talks to his girlfriend. You wonder what they’re talking about, if her face is beaming like his own, wherever she is.

You zone out as you wonder what it’d be like to be the receiving end of an expression like that. To have something within you to be worth his smile, his mumbled pardons and his uninterrupted space. There’s a part of you that wonders if its greed – you’ve gotten to see him nearly everyday for the past decade, perhaps you’ve run your tickets dry.

You realise quickly that Mingyu is no longer in your line of sight as you feel a ruffle on the chair as he sits back on his seat.

“I think we can wrap up here, let me take the first couple shots before I can see where to go with it afterwards.”

You sense his eager want to leave, and you cannot help but beat him to it for your own sake.

“Alright. I’ll see you friday then.” SLiding out of your seat, you make a halfhearted attempt at shuffling his papers in a neater pile, throwing him a half smile before grabbing your bag.

He isn’t watching you leave, you know that. Yet you find yourself refusing to slow down or look back till you round the corner, letting your shoulders finally slump and your pace to come to a temporary halt. It takes you another beat before you begin walking again, breathing in slowly as you navigate your way through the moderately crowded sidewalk. Nearly ramming into a fire hydrant, you shake off the seize that remains in your body, picking up the pace hoping it’d promote less thoughts.

It works, as you unlock your front door, finally shaking off the autopilot. Shifting to the kitchen is easy, rummaging the cabinets for your hidden stash of moonpies with the intention to devour the family box whole. You’re contemplating texting Seokmin to bring you actual food as you make your way to your bedroom, wanting nothing more than to let your covers absorb all the feelings that make you human.

You find it unfortunate as you catch sight of yourself in the full length mirror and the outfit you’d put together before you had left. Your mind goes back to pandemonium as you take in the details, wondering why on earth you’d put in so much effort for a conversation that lasted less than an hour. You tear your eyes away before you begin to truly hate yourself, ripping your jewelry off as you make a beeline to wash your face clean of the makeup you’d put on.

It becomes increasingly difficult to look at yourself even in the bathroom mirror, moisturizer going on more aggressively than what’s good for you. You feel a sting in the back of your eyes and owe it to the face wash.

It’s easier once you’re in bed, your laptop at the ready, and a text on its way as you bug your brother to bring you your favorite burger and milkshake combo. You put your immediate faith in your moonpies for now as you rip the first one open, letting the sweetness bring you a deluded happiness.

“His name hurts.” Your voice comes out echoey, the sound reverberating in the cavern of your chest. The shot on the table is inviting, but you can’t help but feel nauseous at the thought of downing it. Your fizzled out sprite is being good to you, so you let it.

“Hearing you talk about him hurts,” Mika slurs, slumping down onto the beanbag she’s dragged onto the scene, joining you and Nayeon next to the couch.

Letting out a loud sigh that you doubt she can hear over the bass booming across the house, you settle to rest your head back on the couch backrest, staring into the ceiling. “Imagine what it’s doing to me then.”

“I don’t need to.” You can hear the exasperation in her voice.

“Oh, hey, Hao!” Nayeon drags next to you and you lift your head up to see Mika’s boyfriend join her on the already tiny beanbag. He huffs out a hey between a slight smile, slumping almost entirely on his girlfriend. She pats his hair in silent regard.

“I read this research paper about how they can delete the memories out of your brain squiggles,” Nayeon pops in.

“Since when do you read academic material for interest?” Minghao mumbles, fingers busy playing with Mika’s hair.

The pair continue to bicker as your eyes trail across the moderately packed house, the party looking more lowbeat than any other Seungcheol extravaganzas. Not that you were complaining, but when you spot a certain someone, it’s hard not to.

Mingyu files into the kitchen with your brother in tow, beaming face evident over the island as he pours himself what looks like orange juice. Your mood is instantly soured.

“What study was that again?” You poke at Nayeon, the image of the man you wished for gone burned into your forebrain. She glances over to the open kitchen and realises what you’re talking about, coming around with a face of her own.

“That one’s gonna be a hard one to scrub out. But it’s okay, even the toughest stains succumb to bleach that’s strong enough,” she sighs. You’re barely listening to her analogy, not when he’s standing right there rendering it impossible for you to look anywhere else.

“You sound like a commercial.” You can almost hear the crinkle in Mika’s nose as she comments, and you can’t help but breathe out a laugh.

The rest continue with their conversation as you remain quiet for most of the exchange, eyes filling your heart heavy with the way they remain glued to the figure far out into the kitchen. It was less about the fact that you just wanted to look at him and more of how it was forcing you to think about your predicament; something that was weighing you down yet something you couldn’t help.

You can’t be entirely sure how long you managed to stare without getting caught, but when Mika calls your name out harsher than expected, you snap around to divert your attention.

“Huh?”

“Sixth time’s the charm, huh? Get it together, he’s not gonna look at you,” she huffs as she slumps back onto the beanbag, alone this time as you note that Minghao is gone.

It takes you a moment to gather what she had said, mouth gaping open and close as you try to conspire a proper response. “I wasn’t trying–”

“No. Save it. It was my fault for thinking I could sit here without having to sit through more of your Mingyu bullshit.” She’s shuffling out of her bean bag with mediocre difficulty, exasperation on her face as she trudges away to sit with her boyfriend and his friends on the seats on the middle of the floor.

The air seems to have knocked out of your chest as you find the capacity to process what just happened. Seemingly forgotten Nayeon was also here, you note the hand she places on your elbow as a sober attempt to get you to look at her.

The rest of the night passes in a nauseous blur, none that you could really make sense of. You bid Nayeon goodbye as you assured her you’d go home with your brother, waving goodbye to blurred taxi lights as she leaves you alone in front of a dwindling house.

The breath you let out is shaky as your feet remain planted on the concrete, the remnants of tonight passing over you as they came. Deciding you owed it to yourself, you let the tears well up in your eyes. As tired as you were of crying over what was essentially the same thing over and over again, you let yourself tire yourself out once more.

The party was over, and you knew that because you were walking home alone, hoping Nayeon would forgive you for lying to her. But you couldn’t possibly explain the tear stains on your cheeks to your brother, not when he knew nothing. It was better that way; you refuse to be the person that potentially ruins a friendship that’s lasted longer than any other.

You try to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you trudge slowly in the dark, not bothering to wipe your tears. Your stomping grows louder the more you grow frustrated with your thoughts, and it proves not too well for you. There’s a pair of headlights throwing light onto the oncoming street, illuminating you in the process. You want to kick yourself as the realisation settles in, praying the car would simply pass you. Considering the late hour and the fact that you were alone is hitting you at the worst time, wondering if you could pretend to make a call as you walked.

It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down.

Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention.

“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”

“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel.

“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car.

“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further.

Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”

“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns.

There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.

It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.

“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.

“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.”

“Why didn’t you leave with her?”

“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”

“Hm. That didn’t happen.”

“It’s like I said,” you mumble.

He hums again in response, dropping the subject.

“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.

“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You bit your tongue. Hard.

He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed.

“I’m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended.

“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister.

“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”

“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.”

Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.

“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.

He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.

“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat.

He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride.

“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.”

You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”

Middle school was harder than you thought.

Not that you expected it to be easy, but you remained hopeful nonetheless. Fifth grade came plowing for you with an unexpected vigor, which you were feeling especially as you gripped your red marked paper with a vice grip.

It was Mingyu who had found you on the kitchen island sniffling, waiting for your mother to come home and ask you for your dreaded test results.

You drop your head in shame (even more so) when he asks you the inevitable question of “what’s wrong?” Your voice comes out as a mumble. “I failed my first test.”

He blinks as he stops in front of the fridge, opening it to emerge with a carton of chocolate milk and two monsters. He slides the carton over to you as he takes a seat on the other chair.

“Well, what did you get?” he asks as he pops his can open, ears studded black from the piercings he’d gotten done.

You mumble out the number in incoherence that has him hunching down to hear you.

“What?”

“A fifteen!” you finally huff out in exasperation.

“Hm. Better than me I think I got a two at some point. Don’t worry about it, it's not the end of the world.” He says. “D’you want me to turn that into a seventy five?”

You look up confused. “How?”

“You’ll see. Get me your test. And a red marker.”

On that day, Mingyu aided you in your first con, pulling lines to turn the one into a seven right before your eyes.

“There. Now don’t let her look at it too hard or check your answers. And only give it to her if she asks for it.”

He had left back to your brother’s room with the spare can of monster, leaving you to stash your test into your bag and move to seat yourself in a more natural position. You’d gotten away with it as your mother pats you on the back for your first attempt at a fifth grade paper, leaving you with a lesson to work harder, and a memory that stayed with you for years.

The following day is met with a pit of guilt sitting in your stomach before you could even recall the events of last night.

There’s little that you can do to prep as you’re supposed to change at the studio anyway, pushing the remnants of your makeup products into a pouch as a second thought. Your hair seemed fine, deciding you’d see to it if it needed changing when you got there.

You push your departure as far as you could, finding more things to do and more chores to finish before you were due to leave. It takes you a final look at the time before you finally decide to trudge to the door with your things. You cross paths with Seokmin who’s only just coming home, looking worse for wear. He barely acknowledges you as he makes a beeline for his bedroom, disappearing.

He’s probably fine.

By the time you get to the studio Mingyu is already in the middle of setting up, immersed in the switches behind giant studio lights. It’s dark, save for the one studio light thats already on, casting a light on the white backdrop, a single stool sits at the front. Looking around, the place casts an eerie atmosphere, the unattended stations and dark back rooms casting a shiver down your spine despite the Afternoon light outside. Perhaps you were acclimated to the hustle and bustle in behind the scene videos of photoshoots, yet here it was just you and Mingyu.

He doesn’t notice you come in right away, and you’re thankful for the opportunity to recast your words in your head, waiting to be uttered as soon as you say your hellos.

“Oh, hey,” he says normally.

“Hope I’m not too late.”

“No, you’re fine, I’m nearly done setting up,” he says, as he switches the second studio light on, doubling the glow in the room.

“Oh, okay.” Your voice comes out as an uncharacteristic whisper. “Uh, listen, Mingyu, I just wanted to apologize about last night. You were only asking and I was being too harsh.”

He picks up his back from his bent position to look at you, hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “Oh, no, don’t say that, It’s me who should be apologising. I shouldn’t have pried when you said you didn’t wanna talk about it. I’m sorry, really.”

You're opening your mouth to rebut, nails clashing onto each other as your fidgeting gets worse, but you decide to end it. “We’re both sorry, let’s just end this here.”

Both of you have slightly uncomfortable smiles on your faces as Mingyu continues to fidget with his cables and equipment. It went smoother than you’d thought, silently thanking him for keeping it from getting awkward – more awkward than necessary anyway.

“These ones are gonna be basic studies, establishing the usual studio lights in the beginning before we move to the more experimental shots.” He drags his own stool forward to sit directly across from you in front of the plain white backdrop. “Did you bring another black top?”

“I did, do you want me to change?”

“Not yet.” He positions the camera higher, looking like he’s ready. “Okay, relax your body. Shoulders back, chin down. Okay, now a smile, really small, barely there.”

He snaps his first photo and you nearly knock yourself backwards on the stool, lights going off at the shot damn near blinding you.

“You good?”

“I thought the flash was just gonna be your camera.” You frown, coming round.

“Nah, you’ll get used to it. Okay, back in position.”

He takes a couple more pictures, urging you to make miniscule changes to your poses, whatever feels good. You find yourself loosening up, your posture aiding you instead of working against you. “Try putting your hands on the stool, yeah like that, lean forward. Chin up a little more.”

The directions continue from behind the camera as he continues to flash away, and you do your utmost to not let the lights disorient you too much. He lets you take a break when you make a comment about the pure thermal energy in the room, your face no doubt shiny and red from the lights. You’re done after you take a couple more pictures after an outfit change, rendering you free to leave within the hour.

“I think you’re done,” he announces, stretching as he leaves his own stool. “I’ll send you deets for tomorrow, we’ll probably get a lot more done.”

“Oh, cool.”

Gathering your stuff doesn’t take you as you go up to tell him you’re about to leave. You find him fiddling with cables, packing everything up before leaving himself. You make a split second decision, dropping your bag before announcing yourself.

“Let me help.”

“Huh? Oh no, it’s fine. I just need to shove them in storage.”

“That’s alright, I’ll help. What d’you want me to do?”

“Uh, Maybe unplug all the ports, and um, turn the lights on too, I guess. It’s gonna get dark if you don’t.”

Cleaning up was easier when those god awful studio lights weren’t overheating the entire hall, collecting cables and putting equipment back into their places. It was over before you knew it.

“Is your car back from the workshop?” Mingyu yells from inside one of the side rooms collecting his stuff.

“Not yet, I’m getting it back on the 15th. Ordered a cab.”

“You’re going home from here, right?” He emerges from the room, arms in the middle of slipping into his jacket. “I’ll drive you.”

“No, it’s fine I have to meet Nayeon at uni and–”

“Even better, I was going there too. Come on, I just need to kill the lights.”

You’re out of saviours, evident as you slide into his car, yet again with no choice. It’s meant to be a short drive, considering the studio is barely ten minutes away from where you need to be, yet it feels like an impromptu road trip with the way the roads seem to stretch.

It’s significantly less awkward than last night, perhaps owed to him not being as inclined to make conversation, unlike last night.

By the time he’s pulling up, you already have your bag in hand, a thank you frozen on your tongue as you register who it is that’s standing outside the library. You groan internally as you see Nayeon waiting for you, immersed in something on her phone. Praying she stays occupied, you rush your, “thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow,” as you hope she doesn’t see you slip out of the familiar car.

She does notice. Looking up at the sound of yout door opening, she catches clear sight of you stepping out of the car, Mingyu in the driver’s seat. You can tell she’s subdued her reaction, but the eyebrows gives her away as they shoot up at the sight. Trudging up to her is a nightmare and a half, dreading the questions she’s going to ask as you hear Mingyu rev away.

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” she breathes out, eyes wide, mouth open in jest.

“Quit it, I have work to get done.” You choose to lead her straight into the library where you know she won’t be able to ask you any more probing questions.

That doesn’t seem to sedate her though as she continues to whisper a million questions, watching you pull your stuff out.

“I had a shoot with him today, he offered to drop me off and I couldn’t say no!”

“Oh my gosh!” she exclaims a little too loud, owing a couple nasty surrounding looks her way, including yours. She continues quieter, pulling your laptop away from you so you’d pay more attention to her. “How’d it go? Did you pose all sexy for him, did he look nervous?”

“I did not pose sexy, I posed normally, because I have a conscience,” you snap, yanking your laptop back from her grip.

She’s smiling like an idiot, unaffected by your annoyance. “Is he gonna drop you off after every shoot? Oh my god! Don’t you dare get your car from the garage, give it to Seokmin, or, or, tell them to keep it!”

“Nayeon, shush!” It’s your turn to whisper shout at her gradually increasing volume, pushing her to quit leaning over the desks.

“Okay, okay.” She sobers up.

“I’m supposed to be getting over him, why are you so happy about this? Indifference, remember? It was you who brought it up.”

“Yes, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t look, I don’t know, like, you know!”

Once she’s a little less giddy, you finally tell her about last night – leaving out the bit where he droppped you home for the sake of the library and its inhabitants.

“I mean, I know we aplogised and everything, but I felt a little less… on fire around him. Other than those stupid studio lights, those were turning the place into a sauna. But I could meet his eyes without hyperventilating,” you explain, eyes downcast as you speak.

“I imagine his eyes were covered with that camera anyway, but progress, I guess,” Nayeon comments.

“Maybe I needed to get mad at him to feel better, I don’t know. But it feels like I’m making progress for the first time.”

“I told you this would be good for you, give it a couple more weeks and it’ll be like Mingyu never happened.”

It takes a conscious attempt to not scoff. Like Mingyu never happened to your heart. That’s a heart you can’t recognise.

The first time Seokmin had brought girls over was a day you couldn’t forget, no matter how hard you tried.

You were padding down to the kitchen, still bleary eyed and pyjama clad from your nap, making a beeline for the fridge to get a glass of water. Your trip is cut short, however, when you realised the living room was not as empty as you expected. It’s a crowd (to your eleven year old self, anyway) of people your brother’s age. You catch a couple familiar faces, friends of your brother who visited often, Mingyu is part of the lumps on the couch with them.

What stumped you, however, were the girls that were seated in between, eyes equally trained on you as everyone else in the room.

“Oh, who’s this Seok?” one of the girls asked.

“My little sister. D’you wanna say hi?” he asked you, neck craned to look at you.

“Uh. Hi,” you whisper, gulping.

There’s a chorus of hi’s that came bounding at you. You could feel the embarrassment creep up your entire body, feeling conscious for the first time in your life. They were staring at you. They were smiling, but you hated it.

You weren’t thinking as you turned around to sprint back upstairs, not missing the tinkle of laughs coming from the living room.

“Oh, she’s cute,” you had heard. That had you nearly starting to cry.

You’d be lying if you said your little crush on Mingyu hadn’t started blossoming for a while at that point. Being younger meant you were constantly fighting to be seen, even more so when you’d do anything for Mingyu to look at you. Hogging your brother’s bean bag until you were kicked out, putting sparkly clips in your hair before you went to the kitchen, laughing especially loud when you knew he could hear.

And yet, despite everything, for the very first time, you hated that Mingyu was looking at you, watching you idle and awkward while he sat next to a bunch of prettier, older girls.

That night was of many firsts, including the first time you had ever cried over Mingyu.

Mingyu claimed this was the last shoot, that he’d be done after this final set of shots.

You’re having a hard time though, because he’s decided his studio for the day was gonna be at the top of a mountain at the asscrack of dawn.

“We have fifteen minutes,” he announces.

“To live?” You heave, crouching on the gravel to give your body a break.

“Till sunrise,” he interjects, reversing to get to your crouched figure. You feel him grab hold of the straps of your bag, swinging it over his own shoulder. “Come on, just a little more.”

“You’ve been saying that for an hour.” You groan, picking yourself up off the path to resume your trudging. Mingyu stays next to you this time.

“Did you pack your entire house in here, the fuck is this so heavy for,” he grunts.

“You're the one asking for a bajillion outfit changes, I’m just doing what you asked.”

“One change of clothes and a compact doesn’t weigh this much, are you disposing a body up here?”

“Might be yours if I don't see that damn railing in a minute.”

“I think you're hungry,” he huffs out.

“I think I need to never agree to do this again.”

“Salavation!” he yelps as he sees a vending machine in the distance, quite literally glowing (with its fluorescent lights).

“I don’t need a water bottle, Mingyu, I need to lie down.” Your voice grows more gruff by the minute, legs nearly giving away.

“No, the vending machine means…” He bounds up the last couple leaps to the glowing box with a burst of motivation. The slope turns flat at the horizon. “We’re here.”

Nearly falling to your knees at the sight of the long awaited arrival point, you drop to a nearby bench and lay flat on the stiff wood.

“How long till I need to look presentable? Because if it’s anything under thirty minutes, I’m tapping out.” You declare.

“I can give you five minutes, take it or leave it.” He barely sits down as he speaks while already unzipping his camera bag. The thought of lifting your arms is excruciating, so you rest your tongue and bite back a whine.

By the time you do find it within yourself to swing your legs back over the bench, the sky is shifting to a smoky navy, urging you to hurry up as you dry your sweat. You’re cringing as you press powder on your unclean face, but power through the final touches as you stretch while standing up straight.

The first rays of sunlight are just coming through as Mingyu calibrates his lenses, trying to figure out the best shots in the limited time frame you have. You listen to him as he directs you where he wants you, contorting your face into something akin to faux serene. It’s near impossible when the frown has molded itself into your face after what you’ve put your body through today.

“Think happy thoughts.” Mingyu calls out from behind his camera.

“Oh, I’m thinking real happy thoughts. Like the ice cold shower I’m about to take when I get home. My clean bed that’s gonna be nice to me when I lay in it. The leftover pasta in the fridge. My moonpies.”

He has to bring his face away from the camera to throw his head back in a breathy laugh, smile as wide as it could go. It does things to you, but you ignore it.

The summit isn’t entirely empty, noting a few people leaning against the railings, rendering it mostly quiet. All the more jarring becomes Mingyu’s phone as it blares into the silence, causing the both of you to jump at the sudden sound.

He checks the caller ID only to silence it and slip it back into his pocket.

You don’t get to ask who it was calling him so early in the morning, but get your answer when he immediately announces he’s done with his shots. The sun is higher up at this point, casting a more even orange glow across all the eye could see.

You suppose he’s in a hurry to get home, seeing as he has someone waiting on him. “Should we leave then?”

He swings the camera strap around his neck, forearms on the railing as he admires the view. “Give it a couple more minutes, I need to mentally prepare myself for the next hour.”

It’s hard for you to deny that, so you let yourself place your head into your crossed arms over the railing, staring into the glow. It’s silent for a while as the rays hit your face, warming you more than you’d like. You don’t make any effort to move though, deciding to appreciate the view while it was here, doubting you’d ever make the trek up here again. Not willingly, at least.

There’s a camera shutter that goes off next to you and you find Mingyu fidgeting with his camera as he tries to begin packing it up. You would help, but you’ve found yourself refraining from touching anything when it comes to his actual camera setup, opting to watch as he disassembles his lenses and pushes buttons to power off.

By the time you're trudging down the path you’d come up from, it’s bright and sunny, rendering it warmer than before. Going down, however, is proving easier as you appreciate the reduced strain in your calves, letting the recent conversation take you to a smoother route.

“When d’you think your gonna be done editing?” You ask at some point, the thought occurring to you that you’d only seen a couple pictures that he’d taken so far, oweing to his disapproval showing you all the raws before editing.

“Kinda have to get them edited and annotated by the due date, so probably by the end of the month.”

“D’you think I could get the ones you edit?”

“Why? D’you wanna kickstart a portfolio?” he muses.

“I think it’s normal to ask for my pictures you took of me,” you grunt.

He laughs it off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll send them over.”

Mingyu doesn’t drop you off home this time, both of you slipping into your own cars at the base of the hiking trail, bidding your goodbyes. You’d gotten an earful from Nayeon for getting your car back from the garage so quickly, and while sitting in a car with him wasn’t so bad anymore, you choose to retain that distance regardless. This was work, You’re doing this because you have to, and the stupid extra credit that roped you into this in the first place.

Alas, as you start your engine, eyes cast towards Mingyu’s number plate right up front, you can’t help but feel…sad… remembering this was your last shoot. As emotionally vexing the experience was, you had grown to look forward to his discreet location pins and outfit plans, growing more comfortable with him by the meeting.

It almost felt like you and Mingyu were friends.

Your brother’s graduation was an ordeal to say the least. Your parents flying in was a plus, getting to see them at least once for the summer, even if it was just for the day.

The night is wrapped up fairly quickly, a big dinner with yours and Mingyu’s family to congratulate the freed graduates from their academic shackles. It dials back when Mingyu announces he’s gonna take a summer course for now to keep himself busy, wanting to wait a little before job hunting. Seokmin seems to express the same, wanting some time off for himself before entering the corporate world.

It’s when you get home and your brother is sending you all the pictures of today that you note one that stands out. It was of you and Mingyu, an inevitable one as your parents took turns to make sure everybody got solo shots with everyone.

You’d applaud the enthusiasm, but it was particularly unfortunate for you when the camera was thrust into your hands as Mingyu and Jia posed for nearly fifty pictures. You wouldn’t mind usually, but it just felt like a little too much in the moment.

Despite everything, you find yourself clicking on the Save button on the picture where you’re smiling a little too wide right next to him, for the sake of yourself.

Summer break rolls around with no more hiccups, if you’d count finals as anything other than strenuous. You were happy, with a new job to keep you company for the next three months as you lament not being able to go home.

Getting the job at the bookstore was easy, your shifts were reasonable and it didn’t pay half bad. You would’ve guessed they were desperate for a hire, but you appreciate the activity regardless. It’s not really hard work, you find out quickly. Manning the desk, shelving deposits and restocking supplies. Monotonous tasks yet ones that you find yourself slipping into quite easily.

After the last shoot at the mountain, it was basically radio silence from Mingyu. Not being able to catch him the rare chance he stopped by the house, both of you swamped with the end of semester throw up. You doubt he’d noticed, and you despair at the fact that you did, even if it was just a little.

“Oh, great, you’re here!” The owner greets you as you walk into the store, all smiles. She was a sweet lady, nicer than any other boss you’d ever had. “Was just waiting for you so I could leave, my daughter has a play she’s putting on today!”

“Oh, sorry to keep you!” You rush to set your bag down as she picks up her own things, coming around from the table to take her leave. “Hope the recital goes well, tell her I said good luck.”

“Will do.” She smiles before adding, “Oh and, somebody called an hour ago asking about our book bundles, he said he’d come in to check but he hasn’t yet. Thought I’d let you know in case he asks about the phone call.”

“Got it,” you confirm, waving as she walks out the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Breathing out a sigh, you find yourself relatively free this afternoon, a slow weekday as you pick your current read out of your bag to get comfortable for the long shift. You’re nearly through the halfway point when you hear the first jingle of the day, the bells attached to the door making their familiar chime

“Good afternoon!” You look up to greet the customer, dog earring your book before standing up from your seat.

The person who’d walked in wasn’t just any customer, you soon realise as you recognise the familiar shag of hair. Mingyu was here.

“Oh.” You can’t help but let it out when you register him, his own eyebrows shooting up at the sight of you behind the counter. Your next greeting comes out a little dumbly. “Hi.”

“Hey. What’re you doing here?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he takes you in.

“Um,” you glance at your obvious name tag. “I work here.”

“Oh, right, Seok mentioned you started working at a bookstore.” He throws his head back at the memory. “Hey, was it you over the phone earlier today? Didn’t sound like it.”

“Oh no, that was my boss, my shift started like an hour ago.” You confirm.

“Ah, I see.”

The silence is awkward for about five seconds before you jump into action. “You asked about a bundle over the phone?”

“Right, um,” he pauses to fish his phone out his pocket, scrolling for something. “It’s Jia’s birthday coming up, and there’s this book series she’s been wanting. Here.”

You need to remind yourself to pat yourself on the back for not shaking as you received his phone, mind remaining in the moment. “Oh yeah, we have those. Let me grab ‘em for you.”

He follows you through the columns of shelves as you navigate to find what he was looking for, stopping in front of the shelves. “There’s three of these, I can put them in a sleeve for you. Probably put a bow on it too if you want.”

“Okay, perfect. Do you guys have LP’s too?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah. Hold on, let me put these up front.”

You lead him to the back of the store. “The selection’s pretty small, the first shipment only came in like a month ago. I’m not sure if you’ll find what you want here.”

“She’s been talking about getting more LP’s after she got a new record player. Hasn’t mentioned anything she wants though,” he voices, thumbing through the selection.

“What does she listen to normally?” You ask before quickly adding, “So I can, maybe, help pick something she’d like.”

“Uh, older stuff? I should’ve snooped before coming, fuck.” He mumbles, thinking hard. “She barely plays it when I’m around but most of her LP’s are like Frank Sinatra and…Duran Duran was it?”

“Hm…” You hum as you flick through the dated section of the stockpile, “How’s this?’

He’s taking a look at the record you’ve handed him, scanning the tracklists on the back. “I’ll get this, I guess. I can always bring her around to get more that she likes.”

“D’you want a bow on this?” You ask, referring to the books you’re putting into the set sleeve, “You can pick your colour.”

He’s quick to pick the lilac ribbon, watching you as you tape it prettily on the box. You’re trying to curl the ribbon at the ends when he tries to make conversation.

“When does your shift end?”

If the man wasn’t quite literally buying a birthday present for his girlfriend (or if you had any memory of your own birthday), you’d think he was trying to hit on you. But he’s not. You know that.

“Ten-ish. Closing’s on me so I could technically leave an hour early and no one would know.” You snort.

“Everyday?” he asks incredulously.

“Minus weekends, the family takes care of that. They just need someone for afternoons and evenings on the weekdays. It’s not like I’m taking summer classes or anything, and it’s easy work.”

“Well, you’ll be pleased to find out you’ll most likely be available on the 27th of August, then.” He sing songs as he fishes his phone out to pay, a cheeky air in his expression.

You blink at him in confusion, waiting for him to explain. “Was I supposed to get that?”

He pushes his shoulders back, content expression on his face as he continues. “There’s a cultural art exhibition in two months, and I, have just found out I’ve been shortlisted for a spot.”

“A spot? Like to display your photos?!” You drop the card machine with a thud.

“Your photos. Prof liked the project so much she submitted some of ‘em as entries. It was super short notice, but they liked them, I guess.” His grin is wide, one that you find impossible to not reciprocate. “I just need you to sign a consent form and I’ll be all set to start prepping.”

“That’s insane, Mingyu, congratulations!” You exclaim, genuinely excited. “Are you gonna be using the same pictures?”

“Yup, I just need to fix the editing with my prof before they go up. You’re the first to find out, I just got out of the meeting.”

There’s a mix of hesitation before you utter your next proposal, a split second of bewilderment at what you were about to suggest. “Come over tonight, we can celebrate with Seok. Bring Jia along too, we can celebrate an early birthday.”

“I’ll see, she might be taking a bus home tonight for the weekend, might have to bother you by myself.”

The ache in your cheeks didn’t stop until well after Mingyu had left with his cargo, the elated feeling remaining for even longer after the fact. There was a point where it took you convincing to rid yourself of another intrusive, uneasy feeling, like you were taking a step back by being happy at his announcement.

It was, however, safe to call Mingyu a friend. Safe to be happy for him. Safe to have your heart swell at his achievement, having watched him work hard for it.

It was safe to feel.

This was horrible.

Truly.

You were trying to ignore it, the strange thumping noises coming from under your car, like it would go away if you pretended to not hear. There was a sliver of hope for you, barely five minutes away from home that you’d make it before your tire decided it had enough of trying to grab your attention.

But then it started screeching, and you had to stop before you caused a road fire.

“Tire? Didn’t you get them changed like last month?” Seokmin asks over the phone.

“Didn’t know new tires were immune to industrial blades, too. Are you gonna tell me I got ripped off?”

“Mingyu has a scissor jack, I’ll tell him to come to you.”

“Wait! You have a scissor jack, too! Why can’t you come?” You sputter at the sound, glancing at the 21:42 on the dial.

“He has my scissor jack, he’ll change it for you.” He grits back. “Besides, I’m not letting this face pack go to waste I just put it on.”

“Seok!”

“Stay in the car, lock the doors till he gets there.” He grounds.

“Seokmin!”

Beep.

The bastard hung up.

“Ugh!” you break from a tightened jaw, slamming the car door shut with passion as you huff into your seat, waiting for Mingyu.

Was Mingyu busy at 10:30 PM on a weekday? He was, actually.

He’d scrambled to finish up the last of his meeting with his professor, wrapped up in planning for the exhibition despite the two month time frame he’d been given. Exhibitions were a lot of paperwork, as he was finding out as he sweet talks Jia over the phone, promising to be with her within the next five minutes. Well, ten maybe, he has to grab butter from the store.

She sits on the kitchen counter as Mingyu makes her favourite. A strenuous task, but he’s willing to go through the double frying to make up for the time he’s lost. It’s not until he’s doing the post dinner dishes while Jia’s picking a movie in the living room that he’s met with another dilemma to handle.

He’s deflating as he stands, phone to ear as he listens to Seokmin about your situation. Glancing at the near 10:30 PM hand on the clock, he finds it difficult to refuse, especially when he’s told you’re alone and stranded on a highway. He thinks to Jia in the living room as he tells Seokmin he’s leaving the house to get to you.

He’d only be gone for barely 20 minutes. He’s changed plenty of tires, this should be quick and easy.

Slipping into the living room is easy, wrapping his arms around Jia from behind is even easier. It’s when he has to open his mouth that he begins to falter. Twenty minutes, he reminds himself.

“I have two I’ve heard are really good, you can pick which one we watch first,” she voices as she fluffs the pillows on the couch, ready to tuck in for the rest of the night.

“Babe?”

She spins around in his arms, coming up to fluff his flat hair too. “Hm?”

“Seok just called…”

Her face falls as he talks despite his best attempts to assure her he won’t be long.

“Twenty minutes?” she parrots, wanting his word.

“Fifteen.”

Whether Mingyu would keep his word is something he’d find out, but you had kept your word to Seokmin, staying in the car, doors locked till you saw Mingyu’s car pull up behind you in the rearview. The wretched scissor jack that’s caused all of this sits in his own boot as he yanks it out to bring it over to your car, where you stand arms crossed, face dejected.

“Were you waiting long?” He asks as he immediately crouches to fit the jack where he wants it.

“No, not really,” you reply. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here, if only Seok remembered to take the stupid scissor jack–”

“No, no, it’s okay. I wasn’t doing anything.” Lies. But you already sounded apologetic and he didn’t wanna hear you apologize any further.

“No, it’s not okay. The idiot’s relaxing with a stupid face mask on while you have to come out here and change a fucking tire, God, you have class tomorrow too, don’t you?”

“Not until the afternoon, I’m in the clear.” He springs up from his crouched position, pulling the jack with him. “Open the boot.”

Placing the scissor jack in your boot, he continues, a little breathless. “There, I’ll tell Seokmin I left it in your car. Or, you could do that.”

“Thanks, Mingyu. Really.”

He does nothing but flash a smile, doing his best to convince you you weren’t an inconvenience before having to see your apologetic face again. “Alright, I wanna see you drive off before I leave, go on.”

By the time Mingyu’s slamming the door of the house shut, it’s eighteen minutes on the dot. Jia doesn’t say much, excited to have him back in her arms.

“Wait!” he suddenly yelps, once he’s tucked in with her.

“What now?” she groans.

Mingyu’s bounding back to his bedroom, emerging a few moments later with a dark paper bag. He goes back to sit next to her on the couch, sliding the bag and its contents towards her.

“Here. We’re not gonna be together for your birthday, might as well give you your present the night before you leave.” His eyes are glinting, hopeful.

Jia expresses her thank you’s commenting on the ribbon and his LP choice, grinning widely.

Your name comes tumbling out of Mingyu’s mouth before he can stop himself. “She helped me pick it out!”

“You…took her with you?” She asks after a moment.

“She worked at the store! I didn’t know till I went there either.” Mingyu’s voice grows increasingly enthusiastic, seemingly unaware that his girlfriend was growing slightly irritated. “I’ll take you there when you get back, the selection’s small but she’ll probably help you pick out something you’d like. I only had to give her like two names before she figured it out.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she comments, tight smile on her lips as she collects the book sleeve and the LP, placing them back into the bag and leaving them on the floor next to her.

Mingyu is blissfully unaware of the fuel he’s added to growing embers, munching away on his popcorn, eyes trained on the TV and its stimulating colours.

“I was talking to Jihyo the other day, super random but it came up while we were talking about you,” Jia starts experimentally.

“Huh?” He has her attention. And when she mentions your name, the part of him that’s always wondered when she’d bring it up comes out of dormancy.

“She said she…I don’t know, she said she liked you at some point, Like a lot, and for a while.” Jia sounds unsure, like she didn’t know if it was a good idea to bring you up.

Mingyu sighs as he rears himself for the inevitable conversation. “It’s—well, it was—just puppy love. I was around all the time and I guess she latched, I don’t know.”

Jia pauses, eyes remanging trained on the movie. “Does it make you uncomfy? That she liked you? Maybe she still does.”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m around Seok which means I’m sometimes around her by default. Can’t help it. I mean, the photography thing kinda just happened but, I don’t really care. And she seems over it.”

Mingyu is rambling. He can feel it. Which is why he tries to end the conversation right there, tone nonchalant as he hopes the topic breezes past.

It doesn’t.

“You seemed pretty adamant in leaving, though.”

“Huh?”

“When she called just now.”

“Seok called, I had his scissor jack!”

“Why couldn’t he have grabbed it for you and helped his sister himself? He has a car too.” Jia’s paused the movie at this point, moving away from his arm she was leaning on, shifting to look at him fully.

“It would’ve taken him forever, she was alone in the middle of a highway at nearly eleven, you wanted me to leave her there?” Mingyu finds the conversation ridiculous, and it shows in the irritation that rises in his own voice.

“Mingyu, you can’t be upset with me right now,” she breathes out exasperated.

“I’m not? I get that you’re upset, I haven’t been around as much but you also know what this exhibition means to me. I need to put everything I have into this and it’s only for a couple months–”

“Mingyu, it’s not just the exhibition!”

“Jia, I can’t know if you don’t tell me what’s really bothering you, talk to me.” Mingyu’s begging at this point, wondering how it’s come to this in the first place.

“You can’t expect me to be okay with you going around wherever, whenever, when I know what kind of lifestyle you’ve come out of not even six months ago!”

Mingyu had come a long way from his galvanizing tendencies, doing absolutely everything he could to convince Jia he was serious about her. Unfortunately, this was not the first time his past had been brought up; in an argument or in a light hearted setting, and he wasn’t particularly fond of it.

“Are we in six months ago? Are you saying I’ve done nothing substantial for you to think I’m still fucking around? Either give me an instance or figure out what the real issue is!”

There’s a plaster of suffocation in the room, neither soul speaking a word. Until Jia finally speaks. “I wanna go home.”

It didn’t matter to Mingyu if she was expecting him to grovel, to ask her to stay and talk about this further. It was clear she wasn’t about to talk about anything pertinent at all, and definitely not tonight. He was tired, and frankly wanted to be alone right now.

“Fine.”

Silence penetrates all of his air for the entire car ride up until he’s entering his apartment for the third time that day. Not bothering to clean up the living room, he thinks he does himself a service so as to not be reminded of the past couple hours. He’s casting the place in complete darkness before moving to his room. Might as well get some work done.

There’s a conscious effort to not start slamming things, he succeeds mostly, his graphic tablet receiving the short end of the stick. Turning on his monitor, he’s met with his ongoing project still brought up on the screen.

It’s a picture of you. One he took in a greenhouse off the outskirts of the city, something you complained about extensively as the heat ruined both your mood and your hair. You were smiling regardless; a wide, happy smile as you looked into the camera, petunia’s and dahlia’s framing an illusion around your figure.

Mingyu feels the tension in his muscles begin to relax, his breathing evening out after what felt like hours. He becomes almost excited to pick up his stylus and work on the photo, the set up allowing him to dive right in. There was barely any work left, moving on as he finishes the photo and saves it.

It isn’t until he happens to click on the the last folder, the one where you both caught the sunrise after a strenuous hike. He can’t help but break into a hint of a smile at the memory of your broken figure at the pathway, cursing him for bringing you here so early in the morning. The pictures had come out good, especially when Mingyu opens a particular photo at the bottom of the folder, an extra from his initial round of editing for his actual project.

It’s of you (of course) with your chin tucked into your arms as you gaze at the scene from up above, beyond the railing. The sun is up higher at that point, but the cast remains as the top half of your face that wasn’t tucked in your arms is lit in an orange glow, eyes glistening like stars during the day, wide and beautiful.

Mingyu remembers the shot. It was an accident.

In an attempt to fiddle with the settings to turn off the camera, he ended up snapping a picture instead. The distinct click was noticed, never bothering to check what came out of it when he stuffed his camera back into his bag, nor when he sifted through his SD card.

It was like he was seeing the picture in a new light, and the potential it had to become something worth ogling at. He wonders what had come over him when he had placed the photo as a secondary option without another thought, lamenting at what could’ve been his actual final piece.

He stares and stares, attempting to draw maps of color rendering in his mind, yet all that comes up is his eyes zeroing in on your own. How they glisten. How they sparkle.

Part 2

#mingyu #mingyu fluff #mingyu smut #mingyu fic #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu angst #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #svt #svt fluff #svt angst #svt smut

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yawnderu · 6 months

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Content: domestic Simon ''Ghost'' Riley, husband!Simon, massages, fluff, A LOT of ass smacks because this man has a whole ass bakery.

Simon sat quietly next to you on the couch, mind reeling with the stress from the mission he just came back from, gaze distant and focused on staring ahead. You know better than to take it personal, aware that he simply needs time to unwind and process he's back home, safe and sound.

''Would you like a massage?'' You offer with a small smile, noticing how his muscles seem more tense than usual, bulging out of his clothes even more. He's quiet for a few seconds before looking at you, managing to return a half-smile and nod in agreement. Your hands hold his, trying to pull him out of the couch and being unable to— the asshole is making himself heavier on purpose, a smug smirk painting his lips at the thought of annoying his wife.

You pull harder, grunts escaping your lips because he's just too damn heavy.

''Simon.'' One stern look is all it takes for him to willingly get up from the couch, playfully swatting your head out of the way before running away once you try to kick his ass, running right after him while a small laugh escapes your lips. You crash on his back, purposely pushing him face-down in bed before smacking his ass, dragging a quiet, muffled laugh out of him.

You remove his muddy boots, helping him get out of his clothes until he's stripped down to his boxers, still laying face-down in bed, trusting you completely with his body. You get a bottle of massage oil from the closet, landing another playful slap on his rear before straddling him, sitting on his ass as you began spreading the oil all over his back. He let out a grunt at the spank, but didn't bother protesting, too distracted by the sensation of the cold oil being spread all over his tense muscles.

Your hands work wonders soon after, kneading and applying pressure on every single one of his muscles, slowly getting rid of the knots and tension in his body. He laid in bed with his head turned to the side, eyes closed as he relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of your hands working over his muscles, low moans leaving his lips sometimes at the pressure applied on his back muscles.

20 minutes is all it took to get rid of most of the knots on his back, planting a gentle kiss on the side of his head before giving him another one on the cheek, getting a grunt in response from the half-asleep man.

''I love you.'' You whisper in his ear, using the leftover oil on your hand to massage his bicep.

''I love you too, sweet girl.'' He manages to reply, voice groggy and deeper as he tried to stay awake to spend more time with you. A small giggle leaves your lips when you see his struggle, getting off of him and jokingly playing bongos on his ass, looking at the muscle and fat giggling underneath your touch.

''God, your ass is so perfect.'' Your tone is playful, but he's no stranger to you worshipping his body, a small smile on his lips at your words.

''S'all yours.'' He mumbles sweetly, voice still gravelly and coarse as he allowed you to do as you pleased with him. Another gently spank is delivered to his ass before you lean down, biting one of his asscheeks— not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough for him to feel it. His muscles twitch from the sudden sensation before he relaxes, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he turns to look at you with a smug grin.

A/N: I don't wanna kms anymore so here's some tender Simon instead of angst

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buckyalpine · 8 months

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Imagine jealous!sharon want to get you out of the way so she can be with Bucky…

She hurts you (even it’s like a bruise) and Bucky begins to be so protective of you 🥺🥵

ABSOLUTELY.

I'm imaging this with a soft sweet reader and fuckboi Bucky. Hear me out, okay.

He's not looking for a relationship at all, finally feeling a sense of freedom after getting a bit of himself back. He's so flirty with everyone, so charming, he knows he can get whoever he wants.

He fucks.

A lot.

Sharon eats it up, loving the smirks he gives her, his playful baby blue eyes always sparkling. She loves the naughty way he bites his lip and don't even get her started on how gorgeous he is when he works out shirtless. His Brooklyn accent comes out when he calls her darlin' and it makes her weak in the knees.

There's just one issue.

The looks he gives Sharon aren't special. She's not the only one he calls darlin', even the old lady at the coffee shop shares the same pet name. Bucky can't help the little smirks he tosses around to others, flirty compliments naturally falling from his lips. He's a bit of a heart breaker but it's who he is.

That's just Bucky.

That's Bucky with everyone else.

Then there's Bucky with you.

The quite lab assistant who worked at the compound.

He didn't have it in him to playfully flirt with you when you asked about his day. He actually liked talking to you, finding any excuse under the sun to keep the conversation going, poking at the little nick knacks you have on your desk so he doesn't have to leave so quickly.

Sharon hates the way he looks at you. Whenever he's around you, he looks at you with puppy eyes as if he's wondering how someone so sweet could possibly exist. She catches onto the way he's not the same with you as he is with others. He's called everyone in passing darlin' with a drawl of his voice but you're his doll. He's never used that with anyone else. That's reserved just for you.

She can't stand it.

At first she tries to pick you apart in subtle ways' maybe you'd finally realize you had no business talking to someone like Bucky.

"You're so pretty even though you wear glasses"

"Don't worry, that dress would still look good on your body type, its meant to suit everyone"

"I wish I was as brave as you to wear that! I'd love to have that much confidence but I could never"

She smiled sweetly while you pulled your lab coat closer together, clutching it tightly in your hand. Your heart sank to your stomach. You'd worn one of your favorite dresses, one many others had always said you looked perfect in but some how Sharon made you doubt that, despite her sugary smile.

Then she took it a step further to make sure you were more isolated, insisting you'd be uninterested in plans when the team wanted to go out. Purposely giving you extra work when they had drinks together. Anything to keep you sad and holed away in your lab while she kept Bucky all to herself.

She'd do anything to get rid of you.

She was almost certain everything was going accordingly to plan, inching closer and closer to Bucky during a movie night until she was pressed against him, sharing his blanket. Not that Bucky noticed since he was more distracted over the fact that Sam was also squished against him on the other side of the small couch. Sam was also buried under the now too hot blanket, his deep snores irrupting the movie having fell asleep on Bucky's shoulder.

"Damn bird brain" Bucky huffed, ignoring the fact that he pushed Sharon off while reluctantly adjusting himself so Sam's head wouldn't slip, shaking his head when Sam grumbled, trying to snuggle into Bucky more.

"Bet you wish that was y/n, huh" Tony wiggled his eyebrows and much to Sharon's distain, Bucky blushed. Not did he deny it.

It didn't matter though. She'd find a way to get Bucky's attention, it wasn't like you were real competition anyways. She figured you'd have the sense to like someone better suited for you, someone in your league, definitely not the very handsome Sergeant.

That was until she found out you had a crush on the super soldier yourself. You'd let it slip out during a conversation with Nat, not realizing there was someone near the lab. Sharon didn't think you actually had a chance with Bucky but it didn't matter.

At this point she didn't care about what it took.

She was sick of the way Bucky was soft over you.

So she took a more direct approach.

"Y'know, I heard someone has a little crush on a certain super soldier" Sharon smirked, wandering to your table, tinkering with one of your tools while you looked at her like a deer caught in head lights.

How did she know?!"

"I-I don't-

"Oh please y/n, everyone knows" the blonde rolled her eyes at your gaping mouth before continuing, "I just thought I should let you know that he's not interested"

You felt like you had been punched in the stomach, the hurt expression on your face made her satisfied,.

"Oh" Was all you mustered out, embarrassed beyond belief while she shrugged. You blinked back tears while Sharon squeezed your shoulder out of faux concern, handing you a tissue.

"I'm so sorry, honestly I just thought you should know because he likes me. And I like him. So it would be best for you to move on, because were seeing each other" It didn't matter if it was a lie because she intended on making it real soon enough.

From that day, you avoided everyone in the compound like the plague, throwing yourself into work, feeling ridiculous for having even thought of Bucky that way. Of course he'd never go for someone like you, you should've known that from the start.

Sharon's plan was short lived after she overheard Bucky worriedly asking Tony about where you'd been all week since he hadn't seen you. After some endless teasing, Tony reassured him you were fine and just busy with lab work, not knowing the true reason as to why you'd overloaded yourself.

Sharon despised the pink that decorated Bucky's cheeks whenever someone said your name.

She hated that she'd seen him walking by the lab hallway in search of you.

She'd do anything to end all of this.

Including hurt you.

You made your way down to the gym hoping to sweat some of your unrequited feelings away, putting on your headphones before hopping on the treadmill. Sharon walked in moments later, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her toned body on full display in nothing but a sports bra and some tiny shorts.

You felt even worse.

You tried to stay hidden, deciding 15 minutes would be enough, though your escape was cut short with Sharon caught your arm just as you were about to leave.

"How about we spar for a bit" She smiled sweetly, giggling at your confused expression. You'd never sparred in your life, in fact this was probably the third time you'd even used the gym the entire time you'd lived at the compound.

"Sharon, I-I don't think that's a good idea, I've never-

She cut you off, dragging you to the mat, practically shoving you to the middle with more force than necessary.

"It's fine! I mean, it's good for you to learn since you work here n'all C'mon, I'll help you and show you what to do" Before you could say anything, Sharon had flipped you onto the mat, twisting your arm behind your back without warning. You gasped in pain as she gripped harder, pulling further up your back until she heard your joints crack.

"Let-let go" You winced out, confused over what part of sparring this was, your body hitting the floor when she released her grip.

"Ops" Sharon pouted with faux innocence, taking a long sip from her water while you hissed in pain, seeing the formation of a bruise already forming on your arm.

"SHARON"

Sharon squeaked in surprised at the loud voice that boomed through the gym, bouncing off the walls. Her eyes shot up to see a very angry super solder making his way over to the mat, eyes darkening as they landed to your injured form on the ground.

"What the fuck did you do?!"

"Bucky, we were just-

"Don't" Bucky growled through gritted teeth, rushing over to your side, and slipping his arm around your waist.

"Angel, are you okay?" He cupped your cheek, helping you to your feet and taking your hand in his, examining it with the utmost care. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"M'all right" You nodded, your face heating up under his gaze, still a little shaken, your body trembling.

"How the fuck could you hurt her" Bucky spat, his metal hand clenched to his side, itching to punch Sharon in the jaw, having seen what she had just done but he didn't want to deal with the mess that would come afterwards. "The hell did you do that for"

"Excuse me? I was just showing her how to-"

Bucky's jaw clenched, instantly shutting her up. He refused to let go of you, keeping you firmly tucked into his side, growing unbelievably protective over you.

"Fine, go ahead, I'm sure she's different from all your other little side pieces" Sharon scoffed, smirking at the way your face fell. Bucky felt like he'd been hit in the chest; you were far more than any of his hook ups and he'd never considered treating you that way.

"You. Don't. Touch. Her" He glared her at before walking off with you. After the incident, Bucky insisted you go to the doctors to get checked over, waiting outside of the room like a kicked puppy. He couldn't help but feel guilty that all this had happened because of him. He also wondered that you thought.

Did you think he'd just use you for one night?

He would never.

He knew he wasn't into dating. He gave up on the dream of getting married, having kids, all that years ago. But that was before he met you. Ever since you'd thrown him a shy smile along with the softest hello Sergeant Barnes, Bucky had been a goner.

If his feelings were was bad before, it was even worse now.

You were told to ice your arm for the pain and swelling. Bucky had swept you away right to the kitchen, despite you telling him you'd be fine, plopping you onto the kitchen island wrapping an ice pack in a towel. He held it to your arm, frowning at the way you refused to look at him, your face downcast to the floor.

"Doll?" Bucky wrapped his arms around you for a comforting hug, wondering if the altercating with Sharon was still upsetting you, "Are you okay sweets? I missed you, haven't seen you in ages"

"I-I'm fine, I'm sorry" You pulled away from his arms, remembering Sharon's words from earlier, instantly missing the warmth of his body. "I know you don't feel the same way Bucky" You bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

Bucky blinked in confusion, having no idea what you were talking about. What did he not feel the same way over.

"What do you mean y/n"

"I mean I like you-but I know you don't like me that way so I kept myself busy so I wouldn't bother you because Sharon said-

"Wait, slow down, what did Sharon say"

You sighed before recounting all the things that had lead to this moment, Sharon insulting you, then telling you to back off, to straight up fighting you.

"Oh doll" Bucky shook his head, feeling worse over what had happened but over the moon over your confessed feelings, "She's right you know," He teased at the pout that made it's way to your lips before playfully pecking them, catching you by surprise.

"I don't do relationships. Certainly never had before. That was before I met the sweetest thing in the world and she's had my heart since" Bucky whispered, his hands, one warm, one cool cupping your cheeks, "She has me dreamin' of sayin' I do and that white picket fence, a ring on her finger, a pretty little baby bump with flowers on the window sill. Maybe a baby boy n' a baby girl. Maybe even a cat. She's the cutest little lab assistance and I'd love for her to be my girl, sweets"

Bucky held your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing over your warm cheeks while you grew bashfully shy, burying your face into his chest instead, making him chuckle.

"I didn't think you were the relationship type" You shrugged, toying with his dog tags, "I'm not you're darlin' Bucky"

"That's cause you're my doll" Bucky tilted your face up making you look up at him, his lips pressing the softest kiss to your nose and then your lips. "My one and only doll"

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sweet-as-an-angel · 7 months

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Zombie! MW2 w/ a Human Sex Slave

Warnings: 18+, Monster Fucking, Zombie Fucking, Implied Initial Dubious Consent, Stomach Swelling, Cum Inflation, Unprotected Sex, Brief Worry of Infection, Rough MW2, Gentle MW2, Zombie! MW2, Human! Reader, Sex Slave! Reader, Captive/Captor Relationship, Implied Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Descriptions of Smut, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Zombie! MW2 who found you scavenging alone one day out in the wasteland, entirely unaware of their presence.

Zombie! MW2 who capture you soon after, not ones to waste time.

You were the first lone human they’d seen in months, and they’d be damned if they were going to let you slip through their fingers.

Zombie! MW2 whose intentions with you are unclear. Until you notice the bulge in their trousers and the purr in their groans as they watch you writhe against the restraints, watch you helplessly struggle against a fate they’ve already decided for you.

Ghost, König and Soap are the roughest with you, often the ones to just tear a your pants off when they’re desperate, filling you not long after.

They’re rarely gentle, instead opting to take you raw and use you for their own ends, slamming their hips into yours until you hear them release a guttural roar, emptying days’ worth of semen inside you.

Your first time with Ghost almost left you feeling like you were about to burst with how backed-up he was, his balls almost bursting and slapping the skin of your backside red and raw with each thrust.

He’d made sure to leave his mark on you, the prominent bulge in your stomach slowly deflating as his semen leaked out of you.

And while Soap and Ghost’s loads are somewhat palatable given how frequently they use you, König almost always leaves you feeling like you’re about to burst.

Given his height, he’s the biggest of all your captors. Not only that, but his cock is thick enough to leave you feeling like you have rocks in your stomach whenever he forces himself into you, his strokes long and pounding, making sure you feel every inch of him.

Price, Gaz and Alejandro are a lot more gentle, understanding that, while you’re human, you’re still fragile.

They’re soft and slow with their thrusts, giving you time to adjust to their size before continuing.

While they can’t talk, they do try to comfort to as best they can.

They’ll stroke your head, press their forehead to your shoulder (only to feel you tense beneath them, anticipating a bite) — anything to try and make you feel less like you’re a sex slave and more like a friend with benefits.

Of course, you worried the first few times they had their way with you that their pumping you full of their seed would infect you, turn you into one of them.

However, after weeks went by, you were still you. No rotting skin, no cannibalistic thoughts, no loss of autonomy.

But, much to your horror, you felt as if they’d infected you with an idea, a feeling.

That being that you enjoyed what they were doing to you, ravaging you, pumping you full of their load until they were satisfied and your stomach was swelling.

And while your sanity tried to reason your way through your acceptance — that you were being held prisoner by literal parasite-infested corpses — your mind, for better or worse, didn’t care.

Not when they were providing for you, bringing you food, clothes, blankets — things you were certain would be nigh impossible to obtain were you roughing it alone in the wastes.

Or, perhaps you were rationalising your willingness to stay here with them, to live as their human sperm bank, reduced to an existence of bending to the will of militant captors whose semen dripped down your thighs, whose hands forced your face into pillows or made you bounce on their cocks while looking at them, giving you a glimpse into their eyes, the people they once perhaps were: whose surprising stamina and strength left you whining, crying and almost begging for more whenever they finished, more often than not forcing orgasms out of you, too, making you push back into them, body willing to take every ounce of their cum and inch of their cocks.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

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faetreides · 22 days

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🎾 - #LOVE ON THE FLOOR !!

cw: unrealistic public sex on a tennis court 💀 (it’s nighttime and no one else is there), college era, afab reader, gross friends to lovers, strip tennis, soft dom!art x inexperienced!reader, vaginal fingering + titfucking + brief analingus (afab reader receiving), implied (soft) obsession & toxicity like art would marry you tomorrow, teasing (towards reader), nipple sucking (m receiving), art putting in overtime to hit on oblivious!reader, reader is so comically unaware pls just roll with it and suspend your disbelief, mandatory Patrick™️ mention, 3.5k of pure need, art’s so horny in this like 😔 (+subtle implications of him either being a manwhore or a porn addict, as a little treat), lowkey canon typical mind games, unedited

this was requested by a bot looking blog that i had to block but the idea still slapped! combined with an ask for inexperienced reader

Art Donaldson sees your instagram story that’s only a repost of a Ethel Cain song and tries not to click his heels together. It’s not like he’s happy you’re clearly going through something, but if the story is a result of what he thinks it’s a result of… then he’ll comfort you through it however he can. With his words, his tongue, babying you in the bath and washing your hair, etc. Just getting to be intimate with you at all is an opportunity he’d never turn down.

Suddenly you’re bursting into Art’s dorm like a bat out of hell, tears dotting your waterline and lower lip wobbling. His heart lurches and leaps in equal measures, his backwards cap feels like it constricts around his head as he resists the urge to fidget with it.

“He… he didn’t show up!”

Art shoots up and gets off his bed, rushing to you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms, “What are you talking about?”

He gives you a lingering hug and passes you some of your favorite fast food that he always keeps in the little fridge in his dorm. Somehow knowing that it’d be just what the doctor ordered, you’re so lucky to have such a caring friend. You two haven’t left each other’s side since you bumped him on the first day of class, bringing a clice to life by spilling your coffee all over his polo. Sometimes you still lie awake at night and cringe at yourself, trying to assure yourself that he’s stuck around your awkward ass for a reason.

You’re hiccuping through your story while munching on your chicken sandwich, “Mark acted so exicted yesterday, and now he’s stood me up. I waited in front of the café for an hour, people were staring…”

Art eyes you from his position on the bed, crowding against you due to the size and having half of his torso glued to your back. He doesn’t giggle at the adorable way you get frustrated when the pickle in your sandwich always slides out in between your teeth during a bite, but he thought about it! He reaches up and brushes his fingers against your hair, wanting to just touch it more than move it.

“I don’t know what to tell you, he’s an idiot and you’ll move on. It’s not like he’s the only person in the world.” He grumbles, not quite pouting as he hooks his chin on your shoulder.

“Okay now you’re just grumpy because I beat you at uno.” You tease, gesturing to the scattered pile of brightly colored cards on the bed.

He’s definitely made you feel better though, he always does. You both finish your food and Art stands up from the bed to grab his tennis bag. He pulls you up too and winks, saying that you can’t beat him at everything. You ask what he’s doing and he only grins, telling you to come with him. You nervously glance around as you’re pulled to race through the halls to the court. There’s a simmering feeling weaving in and out of your tightly intertwined fingers.

divider

Art lets go of your hand to drop his bag on the ground, leaving your palm feeling strangely cold without his warmth.

You’re still not sure you should even be out here, you know that you’re definitely not allowed but Art seems to sense your hesitation because he rushes towards you and cups your hands in his.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re not gonna get in trouble or anything, y’know that?” He chuckles, gently knocking the tip of his nose against yours. “Look up for me, the moon’s really pretty tonight.”

You follow his lead and tilt your head back to gaze up at the goregous crescent moon high in the oil colored sky. You don’t notice that he’s looking at you instead, that he doesn’t say that the moon reminds him of you but he feels like the one orbiting around you instead of the other way around. Luckily there’s not a cloud in sight, just a floating city of stars with a glowing center. Art lightly pulls on your wrists, clearly wanting your attention back on him, so you comply.

You’re not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you don’t miss the odd glint in his eyes as he narrows them slightly.

His eyelids crinkle as he smiles charmingly, “Don’t you trust me?”

You answer with your heart, “Yes, of course I do.”

He beams at you and explains the rule of the game he dragged you all the way out here to play. It’s just like a regular game of tennis so you really shouldn’t sweat it, he says. His expression shifts when he makes a show out of being unable to look you in the eye when he tells you the special rules, knowing full well you can see him try to tamper down a self satisfied laugh. Whoever scores gets to pick whatever piece of clothing the other takes off, and the loser of the game has to get completely naked if they aren’t already.

Your cheeks warm and you gawk at him, “Isn’t it weird that you’ll see me… like that?”

“So you already know you’re gonna lose, huh? And it’s not like i haven’t seen most of it before.” Art laughs, not bothering to hide the blush on his face. “You’ve seen all of me, anyway.”

It’s true, you usually laze around in nothing but your underwear and that’s been the norm for you two. Art’s no different, he’ll change in front of you and will literally walk around butt naked around your dorm. More often than not, he’ll answer the door in only a towel around his waist and sitting on his hip bones, no matter if it’s one of your other friends or a project partner. You're constantly having to text the other because you forgot that you left your toothbrush behind. You’ve never had a chance to be embarrassed by it. It’s been like that for the longest time and anytime you’ll tell Art that your friends keep asking if he’s your boyfriend, he’ll just reassure you that you guys are just really close. And isn’t that a good thing?

“Besides, I think this’ll help get you out of your shell.”

You’re embarrassed at the reminder of how inexperienced you are. Sure, you shouldn’t have a whole thing about it or whatever, but it just is kind of alienating from other people your age to not be able to say you’ve done what they’ve done. And you would’ve been able to have some stories of your own if you could manage to hold down a date. But tonight isn’t supposed to be about you wallowing, you’re supposed to be having fun. Even if the sight of your best friend in tight fitting sporty clothes makes your pussy throb.

divider

You giggle nervously when he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, swaying you from side to side before moving his grip up to your arms.

“Relax, i’m just checking your form. Being close to you is just a bonus.” He winks and presses his stomach up against your back.

It’s so cheesy, the situation and the pose. But you lean into his touch and pretend to care about how he’s showing you the right way to hold a racket and all that, he doesn’t even really care if he’s being honest. It’s romantic though, and he can’t resist the opportunity to get a taste of what it’d be like to pin your body down with his weight. He guides you through a few “practice” swings and then throws a two finger salute at you as he jogs around the net to his side of the court.

It’s your serve, and despite you being very much a beginner, you get the first point.

Art stands there expectantly, cocking his head to the side and bouncing on his heels in anticipation. You honestly didn’t consider that you’d actually be telling your best friend to take off his clothes for you, but you’re new thing is taking shit in stride, you guess.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” He shouts and hovers his fingers around the collar of his polo, ready for you to say the word.

You take the coward’s way out, “Your shoes.”

Art frowns but obeys the rules, swiftly unlacing his sneakers and tossing them to the side. The court’s not so rough that it’d be hell on his feet, but he’d do it for you even if it was all a bunch of jagged rocks cobbled together. The game goes on with Art scoring the next point, and then the one after that. He has you discard your necklace, one of those cheesy half heart ones that matches with one he has, and your shoes as well. He doesn’t wanna scare you off, but he knows what he wants to have you take off for him.

You score the next time, down goes his pants. Without them, few things are left to the imagination. Every time he’d walk around you naked you’d always keep your face firmly glued to your phone or something. But being faced with the very… detailed outline of his bulge through his underwear, that’s another thing entirely. It looks so long against his thigh it might as well be a third leg. There’s already a little wet spot where the tip must be.

You must’ve been taking too long to ogle him, because Art yells at you to “Focus on the game, yeah?”

You’re lucky it’s not a cold night when he gets the next point and has you take off your pants, which are really just glorified shorts. You unfasten them and shimmy them down your legs, letting them pool around your ankles and kicking them away from you. You haven’t shaved today, but you know that Art doesn’t care about that sort of thing. He’s made sure to tell you as much many times when you complain about how much your back hurts after you get done with it.

Art takes his sweet time dragging his gaze down your legs, already imagining bringing them around his waist or over his shoulders. Your panties are so cute too, cupping your pussy so closely that he can see the shapes of your puffy lips from all the way on the other side of the court, a “camel toe” or whatever you call it. He thinks it’s so hot, but you’re shy about it, asking him to see how you look in jeans that are a size too small. He always does a thorough inspection.

Whoever scores next wins the game, and you’re too busy trying not to fall on your ass to put any effort into it. It’s not a real game away, and besides, it’s not like anything has to happen when the loser completely undresses. Out of the corner of your eye you see Art’s dick twitch in his briefs and you get so distracted that you freeze and miss the neon yellow-green ball hurtling past you. Art whoops and cheers as you process the fact that you lost.

“You know what that means.” Art grins from ear to ear. “Make a show out of it for me.”

divider

You don’t even mind the staring, it’s such a common thing that you’d be more pissed off if he wasn’t looking at you at all. The way his eyes devour every inch of bare skin and drop of sweat that you earned during the game. You pull your tank top up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Your bra isn’t a frilly thing, you wear it mainly for support, but Art can’t seem to tear himself away from the view of your pushed up tits rising and falling as you breathe.

You…. don’t know what to do now, the big appeal of the game is over, you awkwardly laugh it off and bend over to pick up your clothes. Art shakes his head to snap himself out of his horny fever dream and races over to you, latching onto your wrist and stopping you from getting dressed again.

“You’re supposed to take it all off, remember?”

You drop your clothes, noticing that he still doesn’t let you go.

Heats fills your cheeks as he steps closer, delicately sliding his fingertips up the inside of your arm and around your back. He plays with the hook of your bra, gazing down at you with a look full to brim with unknown intent and purpose. He doesn’t do something as bold as unlatching it right out the gate, no, he just stares into your soul.

“I remember.” Your eyes drop down to his lips, and that’s when you know it’s over. “Can’t exactly do it myself if you’ve already got one foot in the door.”

You’ve gotta know when to fold ‘em, and all that.

Art softly smiles and loops his fingers under your bra strap. You have to remind yourself to breathe, but you don’t really get much of a chance to. Before you can stop yourself and think with your head, you’re canting up to press your lips to his. Art immediately kisses you back, chuckling into the kiss when you gasp as he expertly unhooks your bra with one hand.

In the blink of an eye, you’re flat on your back on the court, Art having hastily thrown his shirt under you while you were tangling your tongues together. He presses an array of wet open mouthed kisses down your body, paying extra special attention to the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your mound.

“Smells so good, ‘s cute, too. It figures you’d have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He coos, dragging a lone finger down your slit before gently pushing it inside.

You gasp, wrenching your eyes shut tight at the intrusion. He takes good care of you, slowly sinking his finger in to the knuckle and sliding it in and out of you. He gradually adds more fingers as the minutes pass. Your walls throb around him, and if Art were a weaker man (like the guy you almost went out with) he would’ve said fuck it and plunged his dick into your cunt in one smooth stroke. But you deserve the best first time possible, and all the distractions he’s used have helped him be patient enough to refrain from humping you like a dog.

“You’re okay, you can take it. It’s nothing compared to what this pussy’s going to be taking later anyway, baby.” He hums and nuzzles his nose into where your inner thigh meets your mound.

As he’s languidly thrusting his fingers into your puffy pussy, Art strains his neck to lap at your ass. He holds one of your fat cheeks in his free hand and spreads you open, diving in to suck on the puckered hole between them. He sharpens his tongue and jabs it into your ass, his cock throbs when you let out the sweetest little squeals at the squelching and throaty noises he’s making. He can feel your hole unfurling with every slurp and suck, something that only makes him increase the speed of his long fingers in your pussy, maintaining a breathtaking steady rhythm.

Eventually his poor leaking cock can’t take anymore grinding into the ground, so Art crooks his fingers and (albeit a bit cruelly) jams them into your sweet spot. The velvet grip of your pussy strangles his digits like a dream, you’d take dick so beautifully. Your eyes fly open and your throat spasms around a mangled moan. He pulls his fingers out of your soaking wet pussy, smirking up at you as he sucks them try like a professionally trained whore. Your clit receives a loving kitten lick as an apology for neglecting it, and with that Art hovers over you at an even eye to eye level again.

“Holy shit…” You pant and flick his pebbled nipples, absentmindedly rolling them around with your thumb. “Are we really doing this?”

“Yeah, we are.” Art sighs, his head falls back as you duck down to suck his nipples into your mouth, the saliva you lathered them with dripping down your chin. He grabs the back of your head and pushes your face into his chest, arching his back.

“Relax, I bribed security and told them to fuck off for the night.”

That doesn’t concern you as much as it should, you’re too transfixed on Art wrenching your mouth off of his pecs and moving to straddle your chest.

“Can you push them together for me?” He breathes hard and grinds his weeping cock against your tits, mesmerized by how his precum makes your skin glisten.

“Oh, fuck.” He groans when you do, making quick use out of the delicious new friction the little pocket provides. “Thanks, honey.”

You keep staring at the tip of his dick, loving the little peek you get of it as he fucks your tits and it pokes your chin. You don’t even realize you’re doing it but you let your mouth hang open, angling your head down so his cockhead pecks your tongue at the end of every thrust. You make sure to lick every drop of pre cum away as it oozes out of him, looking so nice against the flushed pink skin of his tip. Art groans when he finally summons the strength to watch you do it, the sight hurtling him over the edge before he has the time or vocal ability to warn you.

His thick load jets out to land all over your tits, half of it on the lower half of your face. You’re almost sad it didn’t get high enough to clump your lashes together, it would’ve made for the perfect contact picture. Oh well, maybe next time. It’s amazing, the switch you’ve made from the shy friend to the writhing slut underneath him. You blame it on the honest to God sweet taste of his milky white cum, surprisingly making you think of the pineapples he always snatches from your plate when you eat at school together.

(Another painstaking effort made just for you, love)

It’s a miracle you get back to his dorm, some of your clothes are swapped and put on incorrectly and you both didn’t clean up at all. As soon as you reach the door, Art practically shoves you inside and onto the bed. He gets so frustrated with having to get your clothes off again that he just rips them right off of you, promising to take you to the mall tomorrow (or whenever he lets you leave the bed) to buy replacements. You literally couldn't care less if he shackles you to the wall, you need him to rearrange your guts so badly, you’d kill for it. Should you be having deep conversations about your feelings and what the future will look like? Absolutely, but your clit is clouding your sense of rationality and you don’t mind that right now.

“Do you even know how much i’ve wanted this? To fuck you so hard that we end up attached at the hip?” He bites, breaking away from your lips to suck bruises down the column of your throat. “We can have a baby- please have my baby, fuck!”

There’s something so weirdly romantic about the leftover scent of the court combined with the twinkling stars outside. Art’s moans and hands scrambling to pin you down so all you have to do is take it, you’re doing things all out of order, but this was always going to happen sooner or later. Art is a clumsy manipulator but he’s so handsome… you find yourself agreeing to every frantic declaration flying out of his mouth as he spears his long cock into your sopping wet pussy. You claw red lines into his shoulders and back, and Art nearly creams on the spot. The sting and the fact that you’re so out of it, you’re marking him up, are crossing the wires in his brain. His taut thighs burn with the effort of fucking you so far into the mattress.

You’ll get to cum four more times than he does, and by the end of it you’ll wish you never came at all. Your soul’s goikg to be so far away from your ruined mess of limbs that you won’t notice the sacred promises being muttered into your sweaty hair or pay attention to your phone being out on Do Not Disturb. You’ll be right where you should be, inevitably molded around the shape of his dick and branded by all the love bites that litter your body. You’ll think you passed out during most of them, but you’ll give him a loopy smile, hook your pinky around his, and let yourself melt away.

It feels as if your walls are still clenching around a dick that’s no longer buried to the hilt in them.

“I love you”’s are for early mornings with coffee and pancakes. Gloating to Patrick will be for hours before then, Art blocking him when you’re deep asleep and unable to mend the growing rift between them.

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joonberriess · 8 months

Text

3 D

p a i r i n g : jungkook x reader

g e n r e : pimp au.

t a g s : pimp!jk debut(!!!!), some degradation, jk watches videos and looks at ur nudes, masturbation, blowjobs, cum swallowing, head pusher!jk, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting(duh), phone sex(?), daddy kink but brief in some scenes, jk is whipped for his pretty gf :( , nasty dirty talk

w o r d c o u n t : 3.2 k

s u m m a r y : “I wanna see it in motion, in 3D. Cause you know how I like it, girl,” or: Jungkook wants the real thing and not some picture or video. Only thing is he’s on a business trip.

Jungkook tosses his phone off to the side with a quiet “fuck” under his breath. It’s only been three hours since he touched down in LA and not once did you leave his mind even during the long flight on his way over. He thought that after a much needed nap he’d wake up refreshed but it was quite the opposite. However, as soon as his eyes fluttered open he felt the tightness down below in his sweats—cock chubbing up and throbbing painfully through his boxers.

He tried easing the tension by rubbing his hand over the tent at first, he sighed quietly in relief as his hand slipped under his sweats and into his boxers. His cock sat hot and heavy in his hand, twitching when he ran a thumb over the leaky head. “Fuck.” He softly repeats while letting his head fall back on the pillow.

Jungkook’s eyes slip shut as he swallows harshly, he focuses on the hot pleasure boiling in his lower abdomen while slowly working his cock up and down with his thumb swiping over the tip. He pictures you in his bed after a nasty little pussy eating session laying there all fucked out with your thighs still spread and pussy out for him to look at. He swears he can taste you on his tongue just thinking about it.

His lips part as another breathy moan escapes his throat, he lazily flicks his wrist and strokes over his cock while more images of you flash in his mind. He groans out loud at a particular stroke, eyebrows pinching together in concentration as he struggles to keep the same angle and rhythm. Jungkook starts thinking about your ass—your soft, round, apple-bottom shaped ass.

God he just wanted to have his hands over both cheeks, gripping them tight and giving them a couple slaps here and there. His favorite thing to do was fuck you doggy just to watch the way your ass recoiled whenever he slammed in, the bounce was crazy as all he could do was watch in awe as you threw your ass back on him, doughy cheeks colliding against each other or his pelvis.

A low groan of frustration escapes him as he stops stroking himself all at once, slumping over in bed as he lays there staring at the ceiling trying to ignore the heat in his lower belly. He was not having it. He picked his phone up and immediately clicked on his private photos, biting his lip as his screen blew up with endless pics of you or some body part of yours.

He chewed on his lower lip while mindlessly scrolling through the pretty lingerie and ass pics you sent him almost a week ago. A low whistle leaves him, “Goddamn.” He muttered under his breath, he wanted the real thing but sadly these would have to do for now.

Jungkook palms his cock lazily once more, he wraps his fist around the swollen shaft and gives it a small squeeze. He’s even fucking harder now just looking at your pictures rather than before when he was just going off of by memory. He swipes and comes across a photo of your naked body only clad in a pretty g-string. He hisses low at the sight of the string swallowed up between your soft ass cheeks.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groans in frustration once more, “this isn’t fucking working.” He stops touching all at once and tosses his phone away, a cold shower will have to do, no use in working himself up if he can’t jack off in peace because it’s not the same.

Jungkook sits up and looks off to the side, this is gonna be a long week without you (at least he had his videos though).

Two days. That’s how long Jungkook lasted.

After he finished up with his meetings throughout the day, he slipped into his hotel room and locked himself in for the night. God he missed you so much, he wondered what you were doing back at the club. Were you dancing? Playing? Were you missing him as much as he missed you?

Jungkook was half-tempted to call but he decided against it, while it was barely sundown where he was at, he assumed it was literally nighttime/the next day back at home with you. He settled for a hot shower, dimmed lights, and his phone. He went into the same private collection from before and clicked on one of the many videos he had in store.

He licks his lips hungrily and gets comfortable on the bed, hand dipping down to stroke over his hard-on sitting in his boxers:

“C’mere baby,” Jungkook lazily says, “daddy had a rough day.” He eyes you up and down appreciatively, admiring the way your new corset you bought looked on you. “Ah-ah, you know how I like it baby, why don’t you go on and make me proud yeah? That’s it.” He grins softly, watching as you drop down on your hands and knees, slowly crawling towards him with a devious smile.

“Like this daddy?” You softly say with a sway of your ass.

He groans quietly and nods, “Fuck yeah,” he man spreads invitingly while watching with hooded eyes, “those the new heels I got you baby?” He tilts his head to the side.

“Mm-hm,” you nuzzle into his thigh and press your cheek against him, “pretty aren’t they? Wore them just for you, don’t you think I look pretty?” You pout while giving him those sweet puppy eyes of yours.

Jungkook brings his hand down to cup your face, stroking his thumb over your cheek as he took his time to admire your beauty, “Course, my baby always looks so pretty.” He brings his thumb down on your bottom lip, “But she’d look prettier with a mouth full of cock, don’t you think?” He smirks. You softly moan with a nod and he gently tilts your head up by your chin, “Then why don’t you show me just how pretty you are baby?”

You stare back at him like you’re hypnotized, your small hands come up to undo his belt, the sound of his zipper being pulled fills the space between you two. Jungkook leans down to give you one soft peck on your lips before he’s sitting back like the kingpin he is, arms stretched across the back of the velvet sofa. He watches hungrily as your soft hand wraps around his swollen cock, the sight is obscene given that you can’t even fully close your fist around his cock.

“Go on baby,” he breathes out, “slip me in your pretty little mouth.”

You obediently lean forward, lips parted in a ‘o’ as you slip the head into your mouth. He groans quietly at the sight of your glossy red lips wrapped around his cock. You tongue at the slit of his cock, swiping your tongue over the head in repeated motions—left, right, left right. Your hand gently pumps the rest of his cock, you move slowly and twist your hand when you reach the base of his cock before bringing it back up with a nice grip.

“Fuck,” he sighs as he throws his head back with a hum.

You pull back with a wet pop and bring your hand over the tip, smearing your spit all over his cock as you use it to get the rest of his cock slicked up. After stroking him a couple of times you take his cock back into your mouth, this time pushing down until the head hits the back of your throat with a audible gag.

He swears under his breath and reaches up to bury his tattooed hand in your hair. You blink the tears away and bob your head slowly—swallowing messily around his cock. The noises he makes has your thighs pressing together in an effort to suppress your throbbing clit. Not to mention he looks so hot with his head thrown back and his mouth open.

“There you go baby, doing so good,” he pants softly, “tight little throat—’s like you were made for my cock, tight little cocksleeve.” He bites down on his lip and comes back to look down at you, “Love my cock don’t you?” He pats your head, watching in amusement as you moan and nod for him, “Course you do.”

You swallow noisily, slurping up the excess saliva you leave on his cock as you pull back to pop him out of your mouth, “ ‘s mine isn’t it daddy? No one else can have your cock but me right?” You pout while rubbing the tip over your lips, as if you were coating them in a shiny layer of gloss.

Jungkook nods, “Only yours baby.” He reaches down to grip his cock and guide the head back between your lips, “Nobody else does it like you,” he mumbles while watching you take his entire cock down your throat once more.

You reach up to cup his swollen balls in your hand, pairing it with powerful sucks as you hollow your cheeks. His lips part in surprise, a strangled groan leaving him when you begin massaging his balls while bobbing your head much quicker than before. He can’t help himself anymore, he reaches back down and begins pushing your head against his lap. Each push has you taking him deeper and deeper, until your nose is flush against his pelvis.

“Fuck..!” He moans out when you gag around him, your throat constricts tightly around his cock and it has him struggling to keep his composure. “Shit–gonna cum baby,” he breathes out while reaching into his pocket for his phone.

You hum in acknowledgment while bobbing your head to the best of your ability. Jungkook manages to record you sucking him off before he’s suddenly holding you still with a low moan as he cums down your throat. His cock throbs intensely as hot spurts of cum fill your mouth. “Fucking shit,” he shakily breathes out while running a hand through his hair and zooming in on your swollen lips that are still wrapped around his cock.

You pull back with a low pop, lips smeared in a shiny coat of spit and cum, “Am I prettier now?” You smile brightly.

“Fuck yeah,” he sighs in pure bliss while tossing his phone to the side, that was the meanest suck you ever given him.

Jungkook breaks on the fourth day.

“Jungkook!” Your happy little voice rings in the quiet hotel room, “I missed you lots, how’s LA like? Oooh can you bring me back something, pretty please!” You pout while snuggling into the many Kuromi plushies you begged him to buy you.

He bites his lip when he sees the state you’re in—practically naked with nothing but a white spaghetti top and your cheeky lace panties. He feels his cock instantly grow hard at the sight, “Hi baby,” he murmurs, “what’s my pretty girl up to hm? Heard about how wild the other night was for you.” He tries not to get jealous at the thought of so many men being around you, Namjoon had reported that the club was busier that night and it only progressed into something wilder when you came out to dance.

“Oh! Yes! Lots of people came the other night and it was just crazy in there, they literally had to use a broom to collect all the money I made during my dance. Joonie also had to tell ‘em I wasn’t available for private dances.” You blow a raspberry, “But anyways, it’s pretty boring without you here. I went shopping with the girls and today,” you ramble on and on.

He groans pitifully when his cock twitches in interest after you had rolled over laying on your tummy, he had caught a glimpse of your pretty ass and it was game over then and there. “Fuck baby,” he sighs, “you’re making it hard for me, ‘s not fair that I can’t have you here with me.” He mutters.

You giggled softly, “Awww, you miss me that much?” You coo softly, “Anything I can do to make it better? Hm?”

“Yeah, why don’t you turn ‘round and show me your pretty ass baby?” Jungkook bites his lip while reaching inside his boxers to stroke his cock.

In a heartbeat you set the phone up against the pillows and sit up on your knees, turning to show off the curve of your ass. “Like this?” You smirk softly, teasingly poking your ass out and swaying your hips side to side.

“Just like that,” he groans, “make it bounce for me baby, wanna see it,” he whispers while rubbing his thumb over the tip in quick little swipes. He nearly moans out loud when you bend over on all fours, ass bouncing just for him as your doughy cheeks jiggle from your movements, “Fuck I wish you were here,” he swallows harshly while keeping his eyes locked on your ass, occasionally his gaze falls down to your chubby little pussy which is kept hidden by your panties.

“Me too..’s not the same with my fingers,” you wiggle your ass and bend lower until your chest rests on the bed and your back is arched with your ass raised high. “Not even the vibrator you got me works.” You petulantly whine.

“Fuck, I promise when I get back I’ll fuck you as long as you want,” he breathes out while stroking his cock faster, “gonna have you pumped full of my cum, till you’re drippin’, you’ll be a good girl and clean it up won’t you?” He licks his lips.

You nod eagerly, “Course.” You reach behind to spread your cheeks apart, giving him a small little peek of your cunt. He groans loudly when he sees a small dark wet patch over the center, he just wants to bury his face between your cheeks and eat your pussy out till you’re crying and begging him to stop.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” he groans, “lemme see your little pussy, pull those panties to the side for me,” he watches as your fingers come down to hook around the fabric, he nearly blacks out when you yank them to side and show off your cunt to him. He swears he even sees a string of slick between your chubby folds.

Jungkook cums so hard he feels like his vision goes black. He slumps against the bed with a low moan as cum covers his fist and cock, some of it even landed on his pelvis—further making a mess of himself. “God I miss you,” he mutters, “just a few more days baby.” He licks his lips, “Then I’m all yours.” He grins.

“Can’t wait.” You smile dopily, “Sweet dreams.” You coo.

Jungkook can’t wait anymore. As soon as his plane touches down and the driver takes him home, he’s booking it straight to the bedroom. You had sent him a flirty message along with a picture of yourself in nothing but a thong waiting for him in bed with a cheeky little: don’t be late!

He stumbled through the door, eyes narrowing in on you. You licked your lips slowly and spread your thighs apart for him, “This what you were missing?” You teasingly slid your hand over your pussy, “I know you want me,” you softly whisper while pulling your thong to the side, “so come and get it.”

With that he climbs over on the bed, bringing you down as he slams his lips into yours rather harshly. You moan into his mouth and wrap your arms around his neck, his hands are everywhere all at once. He goes from cupping your tits to cradling your ribs and then sliding down to your ass. It feels good to be holding your soft cheeks in his hands once more.

“I missed you so fucking much baby,” he growls softly, “thought ‘bout this pretty little ass and pussy night and day.” He lays kisses all over your neck and shoulder.

“Well now you’re here,” you moan softly.

Jungkook licks his lips, “Gonna show you how much I missed you,” he breathes out while sliding down the bed until he’s eye level with your pussy. He doesn’t hesitate to tear the thong off and toss it somewhere, he brings your thighs up and over his shoulders as he goes to town on your aching cunt.

He covers your entire pussy with his hot mouth, licking and sucking wildly at your folds, clit, and slicked up hole. You bury your hands in his hair with a loud moan, pushing his head down as you feed your cunt to him. Loud slurping noises fill the space between you two, his tongue runs over your clit in quick flicks going side to side. Your lips part as breathy whines and cries escape.

“Fuck right there,” you sob out while holding his head still, “w-want more..! ‘M too empty.” You buck your hips.

Jungkook isn’t in the mood to tease, he brings his finger up and prods at your tight little hole. Your mouth falls open when he opens you up with one digit, and then another. He hums as he takes your swollen clit into his mouth, harshly sucking on the sensitive little bud while he fucks his fingers into your throbbing cunt.

“J-Jungkook..!” You sob out while arching your back.

Your legs quiver from the harsh stimulation, you don’t know whether you want to beg him to stop or beg him for more. Jungkook however doesn’t let you think straight with the way he’s sucking on your clit and finger fucking you into another universe. His fingers perfectly strike your g-spot with each thrust making your pussy drip and gush around his fingers.

He pulls back to blow on your clit teasingly, “This is exactly how I wanted you—spread out like a little slut with your needy pussy in my face. Look at you,” he chuckles, “practically humping my hand with how desperate your little pussy is.” He leans down to press a chaste kiss over your clit, “Gonna be a good girl and squirt on my fingers?”

“Y-Yes!” You throw your head back, “ ‘m your good girl.” You weakly croak out while grinding your pussy on his fingers.

Jungkook laughs under his breath, “Go on then, cum on my fingers,” he leans down to envelop your clit in his mouth, suckling with a hint of teeth.

Your mind blanks out as you go stiff, your hands grip his hair tightly and you feel your cunt pulse wildly. Your orgasm hits you hard as spurts of slick squirt out from your abused cunt. You throb around his fingers and weakly try to push him away, “ ‘s too much..” You whine tiredly while shaking, “No moreeee,” you pout.

Jungkook pulled away with a smirk, “Messy little thing you are,” he says this as he wipes his lower lip/chin. You grumble back at him and roll away to lay on your side, “What was that, I couldn’t hear you.” Jungkook says while going over to lay on top of you, “What did you say?” He grins as he peppers your ear with tiny kisses.

“I said you broke my pussy, my leg keeps shaking.” You huff, “Get off you’re heavy!” You whine whilst wiggling around.

“Who did?” Jungkook just lives to annoy you.

“You did!” You whine louder.

“That’s right,” he smacks your ass hard, feeling accomplished with himself.

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#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

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delusionsofgrandeur13 · 2 months

Text

ex boyfriend!dick grayson is distraught.

it’s been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes since the two of you broke up. not that anyone is counting.

his days are spent with him walking around like a zombie.

batman has to practically yell into the comms link to even get a reply during patrol. dick’s not even sure he’s been putting his suit on properly. two nights ago he only went out with one escrima stick. he almost lost a fight with some goons, and one of them asked him if he had a death wish. he went home bruised, his lip bloodied, wondering if maybe he did have a death wish.

he tried going out to the store. he was out of shaving cream and eggs. dick made it as far as the produce section. he had a staring contest with the apples for ten minutes, and left without buying anything.

the first week he kept wearing hats. seeing his hair in the mirror practically made his eye twitch with the memory of you running your hands through it. he could almost hear you cooing over how nice it looks long.

“dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick you look so—”

he cuts it a week later, sick of his brothers making fun of him for the hats and sick of your voice in his ear.

he barely touches his hair now, his hands nothing compared to the way yours felt on his scalp. almost every other night he cries in the shower, thinking about the way your eyes would flash when you’d offer to wash his hair for him. you’d always bite your lip in this cute way when you slicked all his hair back, the soap fluffy in your hands. you’d wiggle your eyebrows and call him distinguished, and then pull it up into a mohawk and tell him to call up jason and ask to join the outlaws. a few nights ago he made the mistake of looking at your razor, still on the shower caddy. he cried so hard his head hurt the next morning like he’d had a hangover.

his family stops whispering when he enters rooms, their worry and concern growing more obvious by the day. alfred won’t stop feeding him. bruce keeps looking him over, his eyebrows furrowed. jason left at least four self help books on his coffee table and in his cubby in the batcave. tim took over all of the video surveillance batman had assigned him, waving him away when dick tried to insist it was okay, and that he could do it. steph wouldn’t stop high fiving him? cass hugged him, at least three times. wally tried to get him to go out, but dick drank one beer and left, walking home in the pouring rain like he was in a music video. wally took the hint, but started texting him good morning, every day. even damian stopped picking on him, instead asking to spar just so dick would have something else to think about. it didn’t work, obviously, but he’d mussed damian’s hair, giving him a wan smile on the way out of the practice room. he’d left immediately after.

he spent the rest of the day at home thinking about how he’d always let you win when the two of you would play wrestle. you had this expression you’d make right before, where your eyes would squint a little and the corner of your mouth would turn up. the whole time you’d dated, dick was never able to figure out if it was because you were about to play fight or fuck. he loved it.

his nights are full of tossing and turning.

he spent the first week not washing his sheets, sleeping face down on your side of the bed. the second week he washed his sheets every night, trying to rid his nose of the phantom smell of you. the pillowcase you used is shoved deep into his linen cabinet. he now sleeps on the couch. he had to wash all of his t shirts too, the ones you’d steal to wear to bed with nothing under. he rummaged through his dresser in his old room in Wayne Manor hoping to find ones to wear that didn’t smell like you. ones that didn’t make him think of you pulling them off in the middle of the night, to then sink down onto his cock. you’d toss it onto the ground while you straddled him, smiling down at him.

he couldn’t sit and watch tv without thinking of all the times he’d gone down on you on the couch.

couldn’t brush his teeth without seeing the last time he’d bent you over the sink, thrusting into you while your breath fogged the bathroom mirror.

he couldn’t go out to eat at any of the restaurants by his apartment without seeing the two of you at a table, you stealing one of his fries or swapping sandwiches to try the other’s order.

he still couldn’t go to the little family-owned grocery store, not when the old couple that ran it knew both of you by name.

couldn’t look at his keys without seeing the keychains you’d bought him.

his every waking moment was spent with thinking of you, all you, always you.

you were everywhere,

he thought about how you’d beamed when he’d first asked you out, your eyes shining when you’d nodded yes.

how surprised you’d looked when he finally told you he was nightwing, and how you made him pinky swear to be careful.

he couldn’t appreciate enough how you had always been gracious when he’d show up late to dates, bruce always needing his help with something or other.

he thought of the way you’d looked washing the dishes, up to your elbows in suds when he’d roll in from the window, coming up behind you to kiss you and push you over to the couch while he’d finished the dishes, still in his nightwing suit.

what you’d looked like when you opened the promise ring he got you, and showed you his matching one. you’d both gotten teary eyed then.

the way you tried to hide the fact you’d been crying when he came home from patrol one night.

when your expression would change after he’d tell you he had to miss a family dinner at your mom’s house. you thought he wouldn’t notice but c’mon, he was trained by batman.

how your face had crumpled like his heart did when he had realized what he needed to do. when he had said he loved you more than anything, but knew that you deserved to be treated better, and that he couldn’t give you that right now. couldn’t give you all of his time like he wanted to.

you’d accepted it, nodding while tears slipped down your cheeks silently, walking out of his apartment to go stay at your mom’s house.

it’d been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes, yet dick hadn’t accepted it. and your toothbrush was still next to his. so he didn’t think you’d really accepted it either.

but yet, you were now nowhere.

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xxsabitoxx · 9 months

Text

Where JJK Men Are Sensitive

Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Yuji, Megumi

Warnings: all characters are 18+, this is a smut headcanon post with various levels of lewd-content lol, proceed with caution... or not, I don't judge. I mean I'm the one who wrote it so...

A/N: tried a different style than how I did this with the Hashira lol. Thank you all for blowing up my "How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0" post! I was and still am absolutely floored with how quickly y'all blew it up!

Satoru Gojo

Satoru doesn’t tell you where he is sensitive because he wants you to figure it out through “exploration”. Given the fact that he is the Satoru Gojo, you jump on the offer to spend hours learning every inch of his body. You make a whole day out of it really, and it goes without saying that your endeavor was very, very successful. Sensitive and ticklish run a very thin line for Satoru and it is a line that is very easily blurred. Your first discovery was that he has a very sensitive neck. Something as small as your hands cupping the back of it was enough to have Satoru shivering in your embrace, whining a little into the kiss. You learned very quickly that one of his greatest weaknesses is your lips on his pulse, leaving faint bruises where you sucked. As your exploration continued, you found that Satoru was very reactive when you touched his chest. More specifically, you hadn’t expected him to moan the way he did when your tongue ran across his nipple by mistake. The noise that escaped him, paired with the visible twitch of his dick was enough for you to take the other between your thumb and pointer finger and pinch. The third discovery was that Satoru has particularly sensitive balls. Yep, that’s right, his fucking balls. You had given him head before, but you had never dared to touch him there since you weren’t sure how he would react. Since this was a “free-for-all” as Satoru put it, you gingerly cupped him and watched the way his jaw clenched. Your eyes were glued to his face as you massaged them, alternating your pressure to see how far you could take it before pleasure pushed the line and turned into pain. Turns out, they are sensitive but durable and well… he doesn’t mind if you’re a bit rough with him from time to time (all the time).

Suguru Geto

Suguru refuses to let you figure out where he is sensitive until you catch him off guard one night and bind his wrists. Of course he can easily get out of them but he’s interested in indulging you because you look too damn cute when you think you’ve won. You’re pretty upfront with him about what you intend to do, which only makes him a little antsy as your fingers nimbly undo the rest of his clothing while you remain in nothing but his t-shirt. Suguru isn’t quite used to the roles being reversed but he’ll give it a try for you. The first sensitive point on his body that you discover is his ears, and it’s not because of his gauges. You actually avoid his earlobes all together, instead catching him by surprise as you sink your teeth into the shell of his ear. This earns a reaction neither of you expected, a low groan that vibrates his chest as you alternate the pressure of your nibbling before pulling away. Suguru’s cheeks are red now as you continue to explore various points on him, his dick painfully hard and sitting proudly against his abdomen as you work. The next spot is actually his sides, your fingernails scraping them has his body shivering in response. It seems some of Suguru’s sensitivity resides in the most random places, because you didn’t quite envision yourself laughing as you grazed your teeth down his side before biting softly and watching his back arch. By the time you reach his waist, Suguru is red in the face and panting, precum oozing steadily out of his tip and resting on his abdomen. He’s looking at you with blown out pupils, quietly begging you to touch him where it really “matters”, to which you shake your head. Suguru’s thighs are his other weakness, which you kind of figured since he always gets very fidgety when you sit on his lap or grind on it.

Kento Nanami

Nanami is a tough man to break down, but over the years you have located a few of his weak points. One of Nanami’s major weaknesses is his jaw/neck, more specifically when you’re kissing and sucking and biting there. There is something about the sensual drag of your teeth on his skin that has his composure dissolving. You know this of course, so you use it to get your way when Nanami is being a little too stubborn for his own good. This neck sensitivity goes a little further though, something as simple as adjusting his tie or fixing his collar will have Nanami shivering from your touch. You found another weak spot by mistake, turns out Nanami is rather ticklish when it comes to his Stomach. You had been riding him, initially placing your hands behind you on his legs to hold yourself as your hips rose and fell. But your back was getting sore and the angle was starting to get tiring, so you slowed and pushed yourself forward rather than leaning back. The moment your hands made contact with Nanami’s abs, he was gritting his teeth and throwing his head back. You initially thought you had hurt him by pressing down on him, but that worried thought disappeared the moment he gasped out for you to “not move” when you started to pull your hands away. You started paying a little more attention to his stomach shortly after that, just because you enjoyed the way he squirmed and fell apart. Unknown to you still is the fact that Nanami’s nipples are very sensitive. He keeps it hidden because he is utterly mortified by how turned on he gets from it. Even if your hand ghosts over them, even if he’s still fully dressed, the feeling has his face turning a deep shade of red. He knows if you figure this out, you’ll go out of your way to touch him there regardless of where you both are, and he just knows he won’t be able to stop the heat from flooding his face.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji is pretty damn adamant that he has no “weak spots”. That’s up until your hand rests on the back of his slutty ass, tiny waist and he’s crumbling at the feeling. Something about your fingers on his skin has Toji losing his train of thought, he’ll stop mid-sentence if he feels your hands on his waist. Maybe it’s because of how intimate that one touch is, especially when you’re the one grabbing his waist and he’s not the one grabbing yours. Shiu likes to give Toji a funny look if you do this while in his presence, it’s typically one Toji ignores. To continue this “men with sensitive nipples” agenda I got going on, Toji will be putty in your hands the moment your lips wrap around one of his nipples. He’s utterly shameless when you start sucking and biting his chest, moaning and groaning while his hips buck into the air. You are mindful of how you straddle him solely because you don’t want to give him any sort of relief when you toy with him, hence his restless hips meeting empty air rather than your own. Toji’s rather embarrassed by how sensitive the head of his dick is, especially when you’re giving him head. Even the smallest of touches, the quickest tug, even the gentlest lick, will have his jaw going slack. You’re just as cruel as he is sometimes, deciding to focus all of your attention on the tip of his cock just to watch him struggle to clench his slack-jaw to try and hide his noises. You’ll have him coming in no time at all, making sure to be relentless in your teasing after the fact because he can be just as relentless with you when roles are reversed. A bonus spot is his balls, because why the fuck wouldn’t they be. He’s desperate to keep that one a secret but you are too damn observant to get anything by.

Sukuna Ryomen

Sukuna, sensitive? Nah, no fucking way. He is the only man on this list that can confidently say he doesn’t have a single point on his body that will have him crumbling if you touch it. The thing with Sukuna is that he will not let you have enough freedom to roam his body. You are his, but he is not yours. That’s not to say he’ll turn you down if you start sucking and kissing his jaw and neck, the gentle scrape of your teeth certainly do something to ease the tension in his shoulders. But that definitely doesn’t mean those spots are sensitive, nope, not even a little. Sukuna’s hips definitely don’t falter when you grind against his pubic bone while he has you stuffed to the brim with his cock. Oh and he absolutely can’t stand it when your nails rake his shoulders, specifically between his shoulder blades. The king of curses himself has NO weak points, I mean really he doesn’t. There is nothing you can do to get the curse to submit to you, and that’s just the facts. Sukuna definitely doesn’t groan when you do any of these things, he definitely doesn’t utter your name in a deep, warning rumble as you try and fuck with him. And he most definitely does not enjoy when you litter his skin with your own bite marks… just warning ya~

Yuta Okkotsu

Where isn’t this man sensitive? Yuta is pretty embarrassed about how easily he can fall apart under your touch, especially when you are holding his hips while you kiss him. Something about the way your fingers dig into his skin, as if trying to keep him close while he has his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Like he’ll disappear if you let him go, fuck it just get’s him going. Depending on where you are, Yuta will likely have you pinned to the wall the moment he feels your hands desperately clawing at his hips. You found out pretty quickly that Yuta’s hip sensitivity spreads down to his thighs. The moment your back hits the wall, Yuta is shamelessly shoving his leg between your thighs, spreading them for him as his knee hits the wall and his thigh is slotted snuggle against your heat. Yuta’s noises are relentless as your hips grind down on his thigh, the muscles tensing under your movements and only adding to the shared pleasure of it. You realize pretty fast that Yuta enjoys marking you, but that he also enjoys being marked. That goes hand in hand with his numerous sensitive spots. One time you actually bit his shoulder and he swore he could have come, completely untouched, right then and there. You’ll have his eyes nearly crossing if you rake your nails along his back, the stimulation your sex offers him paired with the ticklish/scratchy stimulation of your nails on his skin is enough to have him sobbing. Yuta will absolutely lose his mind if you bite his neck too, he gets off to being covered in your love bites. That being said, Yuta’s dick is just as sensitive, if not more sensitive than the rest of his body. When you first started having sex, you would tease him by saying you need to fuck more often so he can build his tolerance. Not that you mind having multiple short rounds, especially since he makes sure you cum Every. Single. Time.

Yuji Itadori

Bless this man, he’s so touch starved that it’s impossible for him to not get the chills whenever you touch him. Yuji’s beyond sensitive, especially when it comes to your touch. Some of his most sensitive spots are actually pretty random and sometimes very specific. For example, just below his ear, that spot on your head where your jaw ends and your ear lobe nearly meet. You kissed him there once, a kiss placed among many, but that was the one spot that had him breathing out, begging you to do it again. So you did, kissing intently and sucking a bruise there until Yuji’s fingers were nearly bruising your waist. You learned his body pretty fast, finding that his chest was pretty sensitive as well, earning you pretty noises every time you so much as ran a finger down his sternum. He doesn’t particularly enjoy his nipples being toyed with roughly, that’s one area that’s more painful-sensitive rather than pleasurable-sensitive. But he doesn’t mind if you kiss them or lick them gently. He’s all for massages, especially when you have him on his stomach, your hands kneading the muscular flesh of his back until he’s shamelessly groaning as you work out the tense knots. But nothing could have prepared him for the pleasure your hands brought him when you began massaging the small of his back. It was enough to turn his groans into moans, goosebumps erupting over his flesh as he shivered uncontrollably. You listened to him, following the instructions he cried out for you to not stop, noticing the way he was grinding his hips into the mattress below you. The sight had been so lewd that you couldn’t make yourself stop even if you tried, dying to see how it all played out, dying to see if he’d make himself cum. Yuji adores it when you run your hands all over him, the feathery light, ticklish touches are enough to make his lips buck, cock twitching violently as he waits for you to do more to him.

Megumi Fushiguro

Oh Megumi…Megumi Megumi Megumi. He takes after his fathers, not willing to admit he has any weak spots but also willing to let you try and find them. Contradictory but either way, you’re eager to know how to make the typically stoic man crumble. It came as a shock when you figured out one of his sensitive points within thirty seconds of climbing into his lap. Megumi’s thighs are very sensitive, even from something as simple as your weight settling on them. It also helps that the heat from your covered sex can be felt through the material of his clothes, your closeness only making it more apparent. You’ll use this information against him later on, especially on nights where you just want to get him worked up. Turns out Megumi’s neck is pretty ticklish, the mix of your soft lips and hair as well as your teeth gently grazing him is intoxicating. Megumi finds himself struggling to stifle his noises as you mark his neck up with as many love bites and bruises as you can before his self restraint runs thin and he gives up on this whole “locate the weak spots” endeavor. Did I mention he takes after his fathers, cause he does. Megumi is mortified by this fact, but his balls are pretty damn sensitive. After an hour of making out and letting you feel him up, you finally reward him for his patience and give him head. He’d rather your sex but he’s too damn worked up to care at the moment, and your mouth is fucking perfect anyways. So, given that he’s let you have more leeway in the last hour than he has during any other of your sexual encounters, you take the liberty of cupping his sac as you wrap your lips around his tip. You nearly choked when he almost immediately spilled into your mouth, the hour of teasing had worked him up more than either of you anticipated and he had no strength left to mentally prepare for you doing something as bold as that.

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