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#even if it wasn’t that won’t taste good
pucksandpower · 2 days
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Made with Love
Charles Leclerc x amateur baker!Reader
Summary: in which Charles would rather risk the entire paddock getting food poisoning (again) than break your heart by telling you that your baking is horrible
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You hum to yourself as you pull a tray of freshly baked cupcakes out of the oven. The sweet, chocolaty aroma fills Charles’ kitchen, making your mouth water.
This batch is sure to be perfect! You’ve been practicing your baking skills for months now, determined to get it just right.
Charles wanders into the kitchen, drawn by the scent. “Mmm, something smells good in here!”
He peers over your shoulder at the tray of cupcakes. They’re a bit misshapen, with cracked tops that deflated the second they were taken out of the oven. The frosting is glopped on unevenly.
To you, they look absolutely mouthwatering. To Charles, they look … well, he loves you too much to say.
“Try one!” You urge, holding out a cupcake. Charles flashes you a hesitant smile before taking it. He peels back the liner and takes a bite. His eyes widen and he forces himself to chew and swallow.
“Well? How is it?” You ask eagerly.
Charles clears his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s great. Your best batch yet,” he lies. In truth, it’s dry and dense, with a strange bitter aftertaste. But the delight on your face makes the fib worth it.
You throw your arms around him in a hug. “Yay! I can’t wait to share them with the team this weekend.”
Charles’ stomach drops. The thought of the entire paddock pretending to enjoy your baking makes him cringe internally. But he plasters on a smile. “What a nice idea! I’m sure they’ll love them.”
The two of you arrive at the circuit and you can barely contain your excitement as you carry a large container of cupcakes into the paddock. Charles trails behind you, backpack slung over one shoulder, his other arm wrapped around your waist. He presses a quick kiss to your temple before you flit off to distribute your baked goods.
You first approach Max Verstappen, holding out a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles. “Here Max, have one!”
Max eyes the treat dubiously but accepts it with a polite smile. “Thanks Y/N, that’s really nice of you.”
You beam and turn to Charles, missing the look of apprehension on Max’s face. Charles catches Max’s eye and draws a finger across his throat in warning. Max’s eyes widen but he nods in understanding. Charles won’t let anything ruin your mood today.
You make your way through the paddock, handing cupcakes to mechanics, engineers, PR reps, reporters, team principals, and drivers. Charles hovers behind you, keeping a watchful eye on each recipient.
Daniel Ricciardo visibly gags on his first bite when you turn away. Charles glares and shakes his head sharply. Daniel rearranges his face into a smile and gives a thumbs up.
Lando Norris takes an overly large bite and Charles has to pound on his back as he chokes it down.
Esteban Ocon discreetly spits his cupcake into a napkin when you’re not looking. Charles lunges forward and grabs his arm, squeezing tightly until Esteban wheezes out “Delicious!”
You remain blissfully unaware of the chaos that falls over the paddock in your wake, oblivious to Charles’ desperate interventions. All you see are your friends and acquaintances enjoying your baking.
When you finally offer a cupcake to Charles, he takes it and eats the whole thing without hesitation. Because even if it tastes like sugary sawdust, the delight on your face makes it the best treat in the world.
“Wasn’t that fun?” You gush to Charles afterwards. “I can’t wait to try out a new recipe soon!”
Charles just kisses your frosting-smudged nose and says, “I can’t wait either, mon amour.” As long as you’re happy, he’ll choke down all the questionable cupcakes you offer. Because your smile is the only thing that matters.
***
The paddock is bustling with activity as you and Charles arrive for the next race weekend, yet another batch of fresh baked goods in hand. You’re eager to share your latest creations — classic chocolate chunk cookies. You spent hours carefully following the recipe, determined to get them just right.
As you make your rounds distributing cookies, the reactions are the usual mix of forced smiles and discreet spitting. Charles trails behind you, glaring at anyone who doesn’t immediately rave about how delicious they are. The drivers and mechanics quickly catch on, showering you with praise and shooting Charles grateful looks when he turns you away.
You finally offer a cookie to Graham, a mechanic from the Mercedes team. He takes it hesitantly, eyeing Charles standing behind you. But Graham is new to the paddock and unaware of the baked goods situation.
He takes a bite and immediately grimaces. “Ugh, these taste terrible!” He blurts out.
You gasp, stumbling back as if struck. Tears well up in your eyes. Charles is at your side in an instant, pulling you into a comforting hug. Over your shoulder, he shoots Graham a look of absolute rage.
Graham realizes his mistake too late, shame washing over his face. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean ...” he stammers. But you’re already pulling away from Charles and rushing off, sobbing.
Charles turns on Graham, eyes blazing. “How could you? All she ever wants to do is make others happy!” Graham cowers before him, other mechanics backing away nervously.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Graham says miserably.
“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Charles snarls. “You stay away from her, you hear me?” Graham nods shakily. Satisfied the message is received, Charles races after you.
He finds you behind the garage, face buried in your hands. “Oh mon ange,” Charles murmurs, wrapping you in his arms. “Don’t listen to him, your cookies are perfect.”
You cling to Charles, sniffling. “I just wanted to do something nice for everyone. But I’m so horrible at baking!”
Charles tilts your chin up. “You listen to me. You have the biggest, kindest heart. It doesn’t matter if the cookies are a little, er, overdone. What matters is you put love into making them. Don’t let someone like Graham get you down.”
You smile tremulously. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best boyfriend ever?”
Charles grins. “Hmm, I don’t mind hearing it again.” Laughing through your tears, you tell him again, punctuating it with a kiss.
After ensuring you’re okay, Charles seeks out Graham. “I trust you’ll be more considerate going forward?” Graham nods meekly. “Good. But just so we’re clear, if you upset her again, you’ll be out of this paddock for good.”
The next day, the news breaks that Graham has been dismissed from the Mercedes team for “attitude issues.” You feel a bit guilty, hoping your cookies didn’t cause him to lose his job. But Charles seems strangely satisfied, so you don’t dwell on it.
From then on, Charles redoubles his efforts to protect your feelings whenever you provide baked goods. The paddock falls in line, fawning over your overly salty pretzels and dry banana bread.
The brightness of your smile makes it all worth it to Charles. Because keeping that joy and kindness shining in you is what matters most to him.
***
You step out of Charles’ Ferrari, the engine purring as he puts it in park. Taking his hand, you smile excitedly — today is another fan meetup organized by the team, and you can’t wait to connect with Charles’ supporters again.
“Are you ready, mon cœur?” Charles asks, squeezing your hand gently. His green eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you adoringly.
“Absolutely!” You chirp, patting the large picnic basket hanging off your arm. “I made lots of treats to share today!”
Charles grins and leans in to kiss your forehead. “I’m sure they will love everything you made, as always.”
You beam, bolstered by his encouragement as you both make your way to the event. The meetup is being held in a local park, with tents and tables set up amongst the lush green grass and towering trees. You spot a long line of fans waiting eagerly for Charles’ arrival. Most are dressed in the familiar rosso corsa of Ferrari, holding posters and memorabilia for him to sign.
“Charles! Charles!” They chant excitedly when they see him. You hang back happily, letting him have his moment with his dedicated supporters. Charles takes selfies, signs autographs, and chats animatedly in Italian, French, and English. The fans are thrilled to interact with their racing idol.
After some time, Charles waves you over. “I would like you all to meet someone very special to me,” he announces, wrapping an arm around you. The fans erupt into cheers and applause. “This is Y/N, my love.”
You blush at the attention but manage to give a little wave. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to be here today.”
Charles addresses the crowd again. “As some of you know, Y/N loves to bake and has brought some special treats to share with you all today.”
This is met with more enthusiastic cheers. Though none of them particularly enjoy your baked goods, the fans appreciate the effort and know Charles likes to reward them for humoring you.
You open up your large picnic basket, beaming with pride. “I made my favorite oatmeal raisin cookies, some lemon squares, and my famous rocky road fudge!”
The fans try not to visibly cringe, lining up politely with plates held out. You happily distribute your overly dry, burnt cookies and gooey, cloying fudge. The lemon squares are mushy and saccharine. But the fans accept it all with smiles and encouragement.
“Mmm, delicious!” One teenage girl forces out through a mouthful of your fudge.
An older man gives you a thumbs up as he chokes down a cookie, eyes watering. “So good!”
You beam, pleased that they enjoy your baking so much. As you chat with each person, you don’t notice Charles discreetly handing out autographed photos, caps, and other prized memorabilia to reward the fans for their efforts.
After you’ve handed out all your baked goods, Charles suggests a stroll through the park gardens. As you walk hand-in-hand admiring the flowers, he says softly, “You have such a big heart, Y/N. The way you care so much about connecting with the fans means the world to me.”
You squeeze his hand gratefully. “It’s the least I can do — they support you in everything, so I want to support them too.”
Charles stops and turns to you, his expression tender. “You are amazing, truly. I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He leans in and kisses you sweetly. Your heart flutters just like the first time your lips met.
When you return from your walk, the event is winding down. You say goodbye to the fans, who thank you profusely for the treats and making their day so special. You tell them you can’t wait to bake for them again soon!
After the last fan leaves, it’s just you and Charles. The late afternoon sun casts golden light on the empty picnic tables.
“Did you have fun, mon amour?” Charles asks, caressing your cheek.
“The best time!” You say enthusiastically. “I just love baking for your wonderful fans and seeing how it makes them smile.”
Charles’ eyes are full of love. He kisses the top of your head. “As long as it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to me.”
You snuggle into his chest happily. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“I don’t think so,” Charles teases. “Why don’t you remind me again?”
You grin up at him. “I’ll tell you over dinner … I have a new donut recipe I want to try out.”
Charles fights down a grimace as he reminds himself that your love is more than worth suffering through another dreadful dessert. “I can’t wait!”
***
“Mate, you have to stop her before she poisons someone,” Max whispers urgently to Charles as you step out of the room.
Charles furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?”
“Your girlfriend. Her baking. It’s … it’s just terrible. I’m sorry, but it has to be said.”
Charles lets out a dismissive chuckle. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad?” Max raises his eyebrows incredulously. “I chipped a tooth on her brownie last week!”
Charles rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he avoids making eye contact.
“Look, I get that you don’t want to upset her,” Max continues, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “But we can’t keep lying and pretending it’s good! One of these days, someone is going to end up in the hospital.”
Charles sighs deeply, running a hand through his tousled hair. “What do you want me to do? If I tell her the truth, she’ll be devastated.”
You return to the room then, a bright smile on your face as you carry a plate of freshly baked apple tarts. “Who wants one?”
Max cringes almost imperceptibly while Charles shoots him a warning look. “They look great, ma belle!” He says with forced enthusiasm, taking one and bringing it to his lips.
The apple filling is gelatinous and tastes faintly of soap. Charles forces himself to swallow it with a strained smile. Max quickly declines when you offer him one.
Later that evening, Charles finds Max alone outside his apartment building. “I need your help,” he admits defeatedly.
Max looks at him expectantly.
“With Y/N’s baking … how do I get her to stop without completely crushing her?”
His friend contemplates this for a moment. “Well … you could try convincing her to take up a new hobby instead?”
Charles shakes his head. “I’ve suggested that before, but she’s dead set on baking. It’s her biggest passion.”
“Okay, then you’ll have to take a different approach.” Max strokes his chin thoughtfully. “What if … you told her a bunch of us were going vegan or something, so she couldn’t bake for us anymore?”
Charles raises an eyebrow at the suggestion, but then slowly nods. “You know, that could actually work …”
The next day, you eagerly bring a fresh batch of blueberry muffins to the paddock to share with everyone. Charles takes a deep breath before pulling you aside gently.
“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” He starts, trying to keep his expression neutral.
You blink up at him curiously. “Of course. What’s up?”
“Well …” He clears his throat. “I was talking to the guys and … Lewis has actually convinced a bunch of them to go vegan. Lando, Max …”
He lists off a dozen more names, watching as realization dawns on your face. Your shoulders slump slightly.
“Oh … I see.” You glance down at the muffins in your hands. “I guess that means I can’t really bake for them anymore.”
Charles feels a pang of guilt at the disappointment in your eyes. But then, your expression brightens again.
“I’ll just have to start baking vegan treats instead!” You declare happily. “This is so exciting, I’ve been wanting to experiment with more plant-based ingredients!”
Charles’s shoulders tense as the plan epically backfires. Of course you’d take this as an opportunity to bake even more.
Over the next few weeks, you gleefully embrace the vegan baking lifestyle. Charles has to smother his laughter when Max nearly chokes biting into one of your “chewy” vegan brownies. Lando spits out a mouthful of your gritty vegan chocolate cake when you’re not looking.
You, however, remain blissfully unaware of how dreadful your creations are. No matter how many hints Charles tries to drop, the problem only seems to be getting worse.
One evening, you set a plate of fresh-from-the-oven vegan peanut butter cookies on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch next to Charles with a proud grin.
“Try one!” You insist, picking a cookie up and holding it in front of his lips.
Charles hesitates for just a second too long. Your face falls and he scrambles to take a bite, barely suppressing a wince as he chews on what feels like a solid lump of chalk mixed with peanut shavings. He forces himself to swallow it down with an enthusiastic grin.
“Wow, these are incredible!” He lies through his teeth. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”
You perk up immediately, the dejected look vanishing. “You really think so? I tried a new recipe I found online.”
“Definitely a winner,” Charles affirms, trying his best to sound convincing. “We should bring some to the paddock for everyone to try.”
Your eyes light up at the suggestion and guilt twists in Charles’s gut. The last thing he wants is for the other drivers to have to suffer through these … confections. But he could never be the one to shatter your baking dreams.
The next day at the track, you eagerly pass around the plate of peanut butter hockey pucks to the drivers and crew. Charles discreetly pulls Max aside with a pained look.
“Please, I’m begging you …” he murmurs under his breath. “Just smile and nod, no matter how bad they are.”
Max grimaces as he takes an experimental bite of one of the cookies, his expression doing little to mask his revulsion. But he meets Charles’s pleading gaze and forces out a strangled, “Mmm … great!”
One by one, the others follow suit — fake smiles and strained praises as they choke down your baked atrocities. You remain obliviously pleased, unaware of their suffering.
Over the next few weeks, the vegan baking experiments only seem to get worse and worse. The paddock has become a silent circle of culinary martyrs — all sworn to an unspoken code to preserve your feelings at all costs.
You proudly present a tray of charcoal-colored muffins that leave the entire garage coughing from the plume of burnt flour. “Tried a new recipe for dark chocolate avocado muffins!” You explain brightly.
“Can’t wait to dig in,” Lando is close to crying, his eyes already watering.
Charles has to bite back a laugh as Max takes a heroic bite, barely managing to keep it together. He pats the Dutchman on the back firmly as the poor guy fights back a gag reflex.
“Two more words about her baking and you’ll be racing with three wheels next season,” he warns Carlos in a low mutter after witnessing the Spaniard nearly vomit up a slice of your “moist” vegan zucchini bread.
The sheer willpower it takes for the entire crew to maintain the facade is almost impressive. Technique and strategy meetings have now become immense displays of unspoken fortitude — everyone driven by the simple goal of not letting you catch on that your baked goods are, in fact, completely inedible.
Charles has started bringing backup protein bars and shakes to every race just to make sure nobody accidentally lapses into baked good-induced delirium.
He really has no idea how much longer this can possibly be sustained. But he also has no idea how to safely extract the situation without demolishing your passion and self-confidence in the process.
For now, his main objective is to ensure your bright smile and cheerfulness remain unchanged — no matter how many mouths he has to personally silence to make that happen.
At the end of the day, having you by his side, radiating that infectious joy and following your heart’s desire, is worth enduring all the subpar vegan muffins in the world.
He’ll take a bite of your latest abomination with an adoring grin, because that’s what partners who truly love each other do — they support each other through the good, the bad, and the burnt-to-a-crisp.
***
It’s the start of a new season, and Charles has been racking his brain for a solution to the ongoing baking saga. As much as he loves indulging your passion, the charade is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. The entire paddock is at their wits’ end trying to choke down your vegan torture devices week after week.
That’s when he has an idea — one he hopes will be a win-win for everyone involved.
“Surprise!” He says with an excited grin, presenting you with the envelopes. “I got us signed up for this baking course. I thought it could be fun for us to take some classes together!”
You’re beaming as you throw your arms around his neck. “That’s such a thoughtful idea! I would love nothing more.”
Of course, Charles being Charles is hardly fully forthright about his motivations. “To be honest, I’m the one who really needs the help,” he fibs sheepishly. “We all know I’m a disaster in the kitchen. But with your talents guiding me, maybe there’s hope!”
Over the next few weeks, you and Charles diligently show up for your baking classes. The instructor walks you through fundamentals like properly measuring ingredients, controlling oven temperatures, and mastering technical skills. Slowly but surely, your creations start emerging looking (and smelling) better and better.
One evening, you return home with a fresh tray of beautifully baked chocolate chip cookies — the first delicacy you’ve felt confident enough to bake since the lessons. You present them to Charles with bated breath.
He takes one tentative bite, his eyes widening in surprise. These are actually ... edible! More than edible — they are legitimately delicious! The dough-to-chip ratio is perfect, the texture is chewy but not dry or crumbly. He quickly stuffs two more into his mouth with an appreciative moan.
“Ma belle … these are incredible!” He gasps out between bites.
You clap your hands over your mouth, eyes shining with glee. “Oh my gosh, you really think so? I was so nervous!”
“Are you kidding? I could eat this entire tray all by myself!”
The two of you dissolve into celebratory laughter and hugs, the sweet taste of success quite literally on your tongues.
“I think it’s time for the real taste test,” you declare one day, rolling up your sleeves as you start prepping an array of fresh baked goods. “We’re taking these bad boys to the paddock!”
The next race weekend, you stride in carrying bakery boxes of your fresh chocolate chip cookies as well as some decadent fudge brownies.
“Fresh out of the oven!” You announce proudly, setting them down with a bright grin. “Who’s hungry?”
For a long beat, nobody moves. The drivers exchange wary glances, their self-preservation instincts kicking in as they recall the many baking debacles of the past. Lando bravely reaches for a brownie first, his face scrunched up preemptively-
Only to blink in surprise as the rich, fudgy flavor hits his taste buds. His eyes widen comically as he takes another bite. “Bloody hell ... this is actually good!”
The words seem to shatter the suspended tension. Soon the entire paddock is swarming the trays, devouring the fresh baked goods with delight. Charles watches on in disbelief, his own taste buds experiencing flavors he didn’t even know were possible from your former creations.
He sees Max take a bite of one of the cookies, freezing in place as his eyes slip closed with an expression of pure bliss. When they open again, Charles is alarmed to see they’re glistening with unshed tears.
The Dutchman wordlessly holds up the cookie, gazing at Charles reverently as a lone tear trails down his cheek. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he brings the baked good to his lips and takes another sensual bite, savoring it like it’s the first good thing he’s ever tasted.
From then on, it’s like a switch has been flipped. The paddock that once dreaded your baking now seemingly can’t get enough of it. Every race weekend, they await your fresh creations with unrestrained enthusiasm, like kids on a sugar bender.
Charles has lost count of how many times he’s caught drivers and crew sneaking off to wherever you’re prepping the latest batch, nostrils flaring as they try to scout out that heavenly aroma.
It’s gotten to the point where Max’s performance coach has had to implement strict rules about his treat consumption to prevent indulgences from derailing his season.
“Easy there, Max!” Rupert calls in a booming tone, swooping in to physically restrain the Dutchman as he makes a mad dash toward where you’re unpacking that week’s fresh delivery. “You know you have a limit on those.”
Max strains against his performance coach’s grip, eyes zeroing in on the platter of goodies being unloaded with unrestrained longing. “I don’t care, she brought triple chocolate cookie dough brownies this time! Let me go!”
Rupert grunts in exertion, struggling to keep his driver in check. “This is for your own good! Think of your diet!”
“That’s irrelevant!” Max practically snarls, pupils blown wide like an addict suffering from withdrawals. “Do you have any idea how long I waited to have real baked goods again?”
It’s a battle of wills and metabolism that quickly becomes a weekly sight. Charles can’t help but chuckle fondly as he watches Max and Rupert’s familiar tug-of-war happen like clockwork every Sunday.
As much as he’d love to intervene, he knows better than to come between Max and your heavenly baked creations. He’s just thrilled that this baking journey took such a delicious turn — both for your invigorated culinary passion and for the safety of everyone’s tastebuds.
Honestly, he’ll take the sight of a feverish Max drooling over freshly baked goods any day over having to choke down burnt muffins and brittle biscuits. This is the sweet upgrade everyone had been dreaming about.
The true recipe for happiness was sticking by each other’s side through all those halfbaked stumbles.
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ladypeonies · 2 days
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"Acting is a dangerous profession."
credit.
Some people will watch this extract and just brush if off perhaps as fanservice and miss the point completely. What I like about Chris and Xuan it’s how candid and honest they are about the whole process.
The host says it all, “acting is a dangerous profession,” and both actors agreed. She’s right. So many fans don’t get it, and they focus on the superficial. It’s not just a dangerous profession in Asia. In my opinion it’s more challenging there because most of entertainment industries in Asia rely a lot on Method acting and immersion. You have notice how they call themselves by their character names, on and off set and it has several purposes. I won’t dwell on them here because this post would be too long.
And you have method acting which I have several issues with. It’s basically psychology. I’m not going to write an essay on it here, it basically means one can convince themselves of anything and you can become anyone you want. It’s becoming someone else entirely for a time, by changing your habits based on your environment. You study a character and become them, by assuming their point of view, mannerism, state of mind etc. If they drink you start drinking, if they love someone you love them too etc. Some actors are strongly against method acting for a reason and stick to use their imagination which is way safer. In a live Xuan talked about how physically and mentally it impacted him.
You are still yourself but you can’t escape your character, their emotions bleeds into you. And you use it to play the best version of them by using your body. Of course, Xuan fell in love with his co-star and had all those “evil” thoughts. He learned to fall in love with him and make him the centre of his universe. The preparation for the role, to build a bond took longer than the whole filming.
So, any actor in their shoes will feel the same, if they say no well, they are either lying or just bad method actors, that’s it, no in between.
The trick is to use those emotions while filming and then to be able to let them go. And that’s the issue, because for many it takes time to do so and get rid of them. Notice how Xuan doesn’t say while they were filming NC scenes he had evil thoughts but he was sitting there, so before or even after. The thing is if you hold on to those emotions it can hurt your mental health. They can be addictive. Under those circumstances sometimes there is a co-pendency which appear between actors. I remember an actor explaining how he basically went through a heartbreak because he got attached to his co-star who was engaged to someone else and he was full of emotions for his on-screen partner. And those emotions weren’t there before they started filming. And they knew each other, they were friends before and he never felt that way about them. And his mind knew they weren’t a good match but he kept longing for them.
I talked here about the bubble actors found themselves in. And the best remedy to get rid of those feelings, thoughts are a healthy distance, and being back to oneself. I hear often, “they’re just acting, it’s their job…” etc. Actors aren’t robot. There is a process to play a role and they all have a process to get out of a particular challenging role. Obviously, all roles aren’t the same.
Another thing: Chris and Xuan are friends and were friends but under the circumstances, they don’t have the same friendship they had before filming, the one from a year or two years ago. Friendship 101 had specific boundaries, and now there are new ones in friendship 201. It’s not possible to know the taste of your friend’s mouth, their skin, and be in the same exact friendship. Actors are not robots there isn’t a reset button. Now there is a new set of boundaries. Perhaps before there wasn’t any skinship now because there are use to each other touch, there is more skinship. Before they wouldn’t talk about certain subject, now they can. I believe they gain and also lost some things. The only possibility MAYBE to go back to friendship 101 would be a complete separation for weeks, reset. But it’s not happening because there are promotions and also, you get use to seeing each other all the time, I guess.
Now method acting and falling in love, it happens of course, but has to go through the test of time and distance.
One has a girlfriend/boyfriend and start method acting with a co-star LOL. 9 out 10 people will break up with their significant other, the GF or BF will leave, it happens all the time.
PS1: I also took the opportunity to answer a couple of asks.
PS2 :Translation by Wava please be kind to your translators and grateful for the work they do, I personally hate translating it can be so taxing.
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Today I found out that some people genuinely believe artificial food dyes cause adhd and cancer??? How do you come to that conclusion. 99% of the junk food we eat has artificial food dyes and last I checked most people who eat a lot of junk food don’t have cancer??? Or adhd????
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I am once again baffled by peoples bad takes online
#just read someone say you have to watch the entire thing of smt or you can’t say if you liked it or not#‘you can’t just read 5 chapters of a book and then decide you don’t like the entire book’#uhhm yes I fucking can???#I’ve dropped a book at 100 pages out of 300 bc to even get that far I had to force myself to read it#so obviously I didn’t like it#and I know my taste well enough that the blurb or a trailer can tell me I won’t enjoy it#I’ve never watched a single episode of food wars but I’ve seen the food reactions they have and I know I would hate watching that#same dude was like ‘also you’re a clown if a bad art style in anime makes you not watch it’#like my dude it’s about animation??#I’m not turning down a show 100 p because of artsyle or animation but it does play quite a big factor#and yes if maybe if I continue and finish the last 40 episodes after having seen 15 I might fall I bc love#but if it takes that long for me to be invested I still don’t think it’s a good show#maybe there’s a small chance I’ll like this movie in a genre I normally find super boring#but I’d rather spend my time on smt we’re the odds are higher#I really enjoyed part of the sandman’s but the overall pacing wasn’t my taste and bc of that as a whole I don’t love it#so on that note I don’t think I’ll be watching op anime after finishing the live action#simply bc I know I won’t finish it and I don’t like animes that are that long#someone said oh you don’t have to finish it just watch what you enjoy okay but also I wanna know the end???#like I wanna know how the story ends but I don’t wanna spend 1000 episodes on it?? no thank you#me
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milo-is-rambling · 1 year
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Fuck hyperfixation meals for real,,, what do you mean I ate a bacon egg and cheese sandwich at least once a day for a month and a half and now the taste and texture of eggs makes me sick and I only eat granola cereal and granola bars
#what do you mean I ate salads every day for MONTHS and now every time I buy a salad it sits in the fridge until it rots when I was literally#going to Walmart every day and buying a salad. I spent money on a new stainless steel mixing bowl that was the perfect size and height for#the bag of premade salad (and the extras I put into it)#although that’s not what this post is about bc I am actually getting back into my salad phase#I think on my road-trip I’ll stop at one of those roadside farmers markets and pick up fresh peaches and oranges#oh shit I just had a thought#what if I make an orange my co-pilot and take selfies with an orange with a smoked face on it the entire drive like of course I have friends#and in fact I am driving with one of my closest friends. *pans to an orange in my passenger seat like this :) *#anyways.#I don’t even like oranges really#like they taste good and I’m getting more into them but I don’t really pick to eat an orange ever but like I’ll have a couple pieces maybe#idk.#I should try oranges again#tangerines are good and cute and small and better to eat. I should buy some soon. mom likes tangerines.#I tried pepperoni today. that sounds insane. I’ve tried pepperoni before I just didn’t like it but we had some in the fridge and I was like#hmm maybe I’ll like it this time so I tried it and it wasn’t bad#not something I think I’d search out ever cause I still don’t really eat a lot of meat at all and it wasn’t like good good but it was okay#I don’t think I’m gonna be like ‘I won’t eat that pizza even if you took the pepperoni off bc the grease is there I can still taste it’ like#I was as a child. I think I might just be like okay maybe I’ll have one piece of pepperoni and one slice where I take it all off#yknow?#idk#I’m high and just typing the thoughts as they happen#what was this post even supposed to be about#okay yeah…. I had to eat a granola bar after I ate the egg sandwich bc I could still taste the egg and it was making me like nauseous to#taste egg it was like I could still feel it in my mouth like ewughhh gave me the ick#ate a granola bar and I’m fixed
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haetrack · 24 days
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no clue (l.mk)
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mark lee x fem!reader
wc: 11.6k
summary: mark realizes how long it’s been since he’s gotten laid, immediately heading to a party. he’s quick to find you, rushing into a room without really thinking about it. except now, he can’t stop thinking about you. how bad is it really if he ends up falling in love with his one night stand?
warnings: strangers to lovers, smut (MDNI), fluff, mild angst, one night stand, miscommunication and communication, reader is cautious, oral (both receiving), missionary, desperation, dirty talk, dry humping, softdom!mark, sub!reader
heavily inspired by tongues - the frights
part two to the how it all goes series!
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mark doesn’t think he’s a person who acts on instinct.
he believes he at least has some self control. he won’t go out if he knows he has work to finish, knows his limits, and has pretty good time management if you ask him. he can control himself whenever he needs to, but he has his off days. everyone does.
which is why he can’t really explain how he ended up between your thighs.
he can hear the squelch of his fingers in your cunt, his mouth wrapped around your clit as he moans into you. your hands are threaded into his hair, moaning out his name, still unfamiliar on your tongue. he’s never really jumped into something like this before, but he can’t say he doesn’t like it. he really can’t, thoughts filled with only how good you taste.
he can feel how your thighs shake around him, trying to close shut when his fingers reach your sweet spot. he pries your legs apart, moving his mouth away from you to whine out, “need you to stop moving so much, wanna keep tasting you.”
he makes eye contact with you as he licks a stripe up your cunt, watching how your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. out of the people that mark’s been with, he thinks that you might be the sweetest person he’s tasted. he wouldn’t mind being in between your thighs, wouldn’t mind hearing all your pretty moans.
your hands make it to his hair, threading through the strands as he eats you out. you tug on it when something feels particularly good. he grunts against you, mouth sucking on your clit as the stinging pain makes his blood pump a little faster. all that he can hear are the lewd sounds of your cunt, the moans of his name, and his own breathing. “m-mark, i’m close. please don’t stop, you’re doing so good.”
he can’t slow down now, adding a third finger as he licks at your clit. he watches as your back arches, suddenly too aware of his dick straining against his pants. he tugs you close to his face, “need you to cum. want you to cum all over me so i can fuck your pretty pussy.”
he watches you nod, your hips rolling to meet his face as you moan out his name, hands gripping onto his hair as you cum. he hears himself let out an embarrassing moan, affected by your sounds and taste. he doesn’t stop his ministrations, helping you ride out your orgasm.
if he could, he’d spend all day here, licking up your cum as you cry out his name. with a tired laugh, you push his head away, almost enjoying the sad look on his face. your hand moves to cup the side of his face, “you did so good, mark. you want me to help you?”
his eyes widen a little, almost as if he wasn’t expecting anything to happen. you sit up, hands moving to unbutton and unzip his pants. his hands hover over yours, shaking as he watches you. “y-you’ll… you’ll suck me off?”
you pull his pants down to his thigh, “well, you did say earlier that you wanted to fuck me so… would you like to fuck me?”
he blinks at you, “really?”
“of course,” you laugh, “i know how bad you want to, and i know i want it, too. probably even more than you.”
you watch him scramble off the bed, taking off his pants as quickly as possible. he leaves his boxers on, making it back between the space between your thighs. you watch him slowly take his boxers on, watch how his cock slaps against his stomach. he’s leaking, and you wonder how exactly he’s held back for so long.
he strokes his length a few times, enjoying how you squirm around in impatience. he thinks you look cute like this, the thought dancing around in his head. he can’t keep himself away from you for too long, shifting closer to you. he rubs his length across your slit, letting your slick coat his cock.
your breath hitches when his tip hits your clit, mark leaning down to kiss you. you can taste yourself on his tongue, and you can feel how his hips continue to grind against your cunt. you can only take so much before you start begging, “mark, please. need you to fuck me already, need to feel you inside me already.”
he likes how pretty your voice sounds begging for him. it pushes him over the edge, moving to line himself at your entrance. he can feel how wet you are, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. he lets out a low groan as he pushes in, your tight walls taking all his thoughts away.
it’s been too long for him, fighting against himself as he goes as slowly as he can. he’s patient, even as your nails dig into his back. you’re letting out small whimpers, getting used to the stretch his cock offers you. he waits for you to get used to the feeling, even if his cock is twitching inside you.
when you tell him he can move, he experimentally thrusts against you. you feel too good, and he’s not sure how long he can last, especially with how long it’s been for him. at your whines, he tries setting a steady rhythm for you. his hips only stutter a bit when you clench around him, his eyes fluttering close.
you throw your head back when mark hits your sweet spot, and mark needs to hear all the pretty sounds you just made again. he grinds his hips as close as he can, eyes threatening to shut at how deep he feels inside you. his eyes watch where you two are connected, a thumb moving to your neglected clit.
one of your hands moves to grope at your own boob, rolling a nipple in between your fingers. mark needs to help you, he decides, quickly swatting your hand away as he moves his face to the valley of your chest. he takes a nipple into his mouth, hand rubbing over your other boob.
he’s all over you, every part of his body moving to make you cum. you lay there, practically sobbing at how good he’s making you feel. “keep going, mark! please don’t stop, need you so bad!”
your words make him dizzy, thrusts slowing to grind into you. he can feel how your slick has coated his thighs, how messy this all is. he doesn’t care, not when he gets to see you like this under him. you’re crying out for him, tears pricking at your eyes from how good he’s making you feel. he wouldn’t mind getting to see this everyday.
the thought quickly leaves him when you tell him you’re about to cum. your nails scrape along his back, surely leaving marks for him to see tomorrow. you’re clenching around him tightly, his hips fighting to keep moving. most importantly, you’re calling out his name so sweetly, almost as if he’s the only thing you can think of.
“y-yeah, you’re gonna cum all over my cock?” he stutters, “gonna make a mess all over me?”
“yes, please, mark, please keep going!”
it doesn’t take long for you to cum. he’s doing everything right, hitting every spot he could reach. you let go, a loud whimper leaving you as you roll your hips against him. he’s gripping onto your thighs, leaving bruises against your skin. you’re happy that you said yes to him, happy that you could have probably one of the best orgasms of your life.
mark cums soon after you, the image of you too much for him to handle. he groans out a fuck, enjoying the warmth of your pussy before pulling out. he jerks himself off quickly, noting how your bleary eyes watch him. he cums all over your pussy, watches how it drips down near your clenching hole.
he’s breathing heavily at the sight, hears your tired cry as you lay against the pillow of the bed. he’s not sure if he should go get something to clean you up or if he should just stay here with you. he’s sure he doesn’t want to leave just yet, enjoying the look of you so fucked out because of him.
not because he thinks you look pretty, even more so like this.
his thoughts are cut off by the way you call his name. there’s a smile on your face, and despite being tired, you tug at his arm to bring him down by you. he faces you, a pretty blush on his face. he never really knows how to end these kinds of things, not that he really has experience to think about.
it doesn’t feel awkward, but mark can’t stop thinking of too many things at once. he can’t just leave you like this, but wouldn’t it be weird to sleep next to you? you aren’t exactly a stranger, but he can’t call you a friend, or even an acquaintance. he barely knows you, knows your name and maybe one class you're taking. his mind itches to know more.
your hand brushes the stray hairs out of his face, and he realizes how much he likes the feeling. your hand twitches at your side, slowly reaching out to him to make him wrap an arm around your waist. it’s quiet when this happens, mark trying to decide whether he should say something or not.
you beat him to it, “you did so good. i’m glad i got to do this with you, mark.”
he’s silent for a few seconds, fingers moving up and down at your side, “i’m happy, too- i mean, like, doing this with you.”
you hum out, letting the conversation fade out as you snuggle into the sheets. you don’t mind that his arm is still wrapped around you as you try to sleep. you try not to pay attention to the satisfied sigh he lets out once he settles into the sheets. you’re not sure if you’ll see him again, and even if you do, you know you probably won’t be talking to him.
either way, you’ll be gone by the morning.
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mark can recall everything he did last night once he wakes up. it all flashes in his head before he’s fully conscious. 
he remembers walking up to you, probably too confident as he flirts with you. he remembers your smiling face as you lead him into an empty room, locking the door behind you as he presses you against the wall. he remembers how soft your lips were against his, how sweet you tasted, and how nice you felt wrapped around him.
most importantly, he remembers how good it felt to sleep next to you, how nice it felt to have you wrapped in his arms. but now, as he fights off sleep, he sees you’re not there next to him. he shouldn’t be surprised, it was only supposed to be a one time thing. but he can’t help how cold it feels in this bed that isn’t even his.
for just last night, this room was something that was shared between the two of you. now, it’s just a random room that he woke up alone in. well, he shouldn’t be too alone here knowing haechan is probably crashed out at this now quiet frat house. he gathers his clothes that are scattered across the room, slipping them back on.
they feel different now, suddenly too dressy for the morning. the door's unlocked when he gets to it, quietly opening it as he peers out into the hallway. there’s no one there, mark tiptoeing down the stairs as he looks around for haechan. as expected, he’s sleeping almost too peacefully on a stranger's couch. there’s other people there too, but mark can’t help but laugh at the sight of his friend.
he doesn’t bother being gentle with haechan, quickly shaking his shoulder to wake him up. haechan groans, and mark contemplates if he should just throw water on him. as if haechan could hear his thoughts, he shoots straight up, gasping for air like he just got revived from being dead. he looks at mark with wide eyes, practically gasping for air.
“are you alright, dude?”
“i’m… fine? i had the craziest nightmare that i was about to go down a waterfall.”
“how is that even-” mark just sighs, deciding not to question him, “let’s go already. let’s leave these poor people alone.”
haechan stumbles a bit when he gets up, dramatically letting himself cling onto mark’s shoulders. they walk about the house as if nothing happened, as if mark didn’t meet you in there. he drags out haechan, noticing how he’s staying surprisingly silent. mark doesn’t mind walking back to campus, not minding how pretty the blue sky above him looks.
suddenly, haechan says, “are you hungry?”
mark mulls on it before speaking, “i guess i could eat. you won’t get, like, sick or anything?”
“no,” haechan hums, “i’m actually feeling pretty good right now. i do wanna ask how you feel.” haechan raises his eyebrows suggestively at mark, causing mark to pull away from haechan, almost letting him fall to the ground.
“you are so weird.”
haechan laughs at that, “you’re acting like you won’t tell me all about it once we start eating.”
mark doesn’t deny it, trying to change the subject, “you’re paying, right?”
“no way! i took you to that party, you owe me!”
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mark ends up begrudgingly paying for both their meals. he probably would’ve paid either way, he thinks as he watches haechan gulf down his food. mark is slower, taking a few bites as he picks at his food. he can’t stop thinking about what you might be doing, can’t stop thinking about the fact that you’re still lingering in his mind.
without realizing, mark asks, “how bad is it if i’m still thinking about who i slept with last night?”
haechan looks up at him, his cheeks full with food. he takes his time to contemplate mark's words, chewing slowly on his food before speaking. he clears his throat, “well, what exactly are you thinking about? like, sexually, or…” he whispers at the end of his sentence, “romantically?”
mark feels embarrassed when he realizes it’s both. he could just lie and say it was the first option, but he can’t bring himself to. 
haechan doesn’t need to hear mark say his answer when he can see mark become more and more red. he knows mark is more of a relationship kind of guy, but really? he points his fork at mark, and in the nicest way possible, he questions him, “well, how much do you know about her?”
mark has to think about his answer. he’s never really seen you on campus or at any of the parties he’s been to. he knows your name… and how you look. turns out he doesn’t really know too much about you, but it feels more than that to mark. mark huffs out an answer, “not a lot, actually. but i do want to get to know her more! i feel like, like we really could’ve hit it off if it were any other time…”
“are you sure you’re not in love with her pussy or something?”
mark quickly shushes haechan, “why would you say that out loud where anyone could hear us?”
haechan brushes off his words, “it’s just… what if that was supposed to be the only time that you guys were meant to be together. you can’t just force someone to talk to you.”
“but-”
“nope. one, you don’t know her that well. two, if you do ever talk to her, given if she even wants to talk to you, what are you gonna say?”
“you know,” mark starts, really trying to come up with anything, “ask how she’s been?”
haechan threatens to throw his crumbled napkin at mark.
mark stares at his half eaten plate, not really knowing what else to say. he’s never seen you before, and last night was quite literally the first time he’s ever seen you. he’s not sure how he hasn’t before, not when you were so easy to pick out of a room full of people. maybe haechan is right, if he really wanted to know you, he should’ve already tried before.
he'll convince himself it was just a one time thing.
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when mark came up to you at the party, it was the second time you had ever seen him.
he still looked the same as how he did when you first saw him during your freshman year. he still looks a bit boyish, but somehow obviously more grown up. you saw him slowly walk up to you after apparently getting a pep talk from a friend. you had quickly pieced together who the two were, and how exactly you remembered them.
it was one of your first weeks of college. you were hanging out with a friend, quietly talking outside the room that your class was about to be held in. you didn’t want to be late, but you also didn’t want to be the first person walking in there. that was embarrassing, but it was also embarrassing just standing out here like you wouldn’t be entering in a few minutes.
you and your friend were sharing hushed whispers to one another, probably talking about an upcoming assignment you really didn’t want to do. you watch your friend pull out her phone to mindlessly scroll before class starts. you were about to do the same when you heard loud voices quickly pass through the hall.
the voices are too loud for the quiet hall, cringing lightly before you hear thundering footsteps coming your way. in a flash, you see a guy dragging another guy down the hall with him. you hear stop pulling so hard! and a hurry up! as they pass by you. you make eye contact with the one being dragged, his eyes looking apologetic for how loud they’re being.
as soon as they arrive, they’re fast to go. you hear your friend laugh next to you while you just shake your head in disapproval. you click your tongue before talking, “we’re in college and there’s men still acting like children.”
she giggles at your words, “i think they might just be like that.”
“do you know them?”
“not really, no. i just know their names. the guy who was doing the dragging is always loud like that. i guess the other guy gets caught up in it.”
you nod at her words. you hear the elevator doors open and you wonder if the two entered in together, praying the ride would be fast to whatever event they were late to. you let out a sigh, “the one being dragged looked at me like he was sorry.”
when she laughs, she bumps into your side, “i think his name is mark. i’m pretty sure they’re roommates.”
with a frown, you add, “i hope they’re late to wherever they’re going,” your friend laughs at this, “people are starting to get in class, let’s go.”
now, the second time you meet mark, it feels like you’re being properly introduced. he comes up to you, only slightly faltering when you look at him with a smile on your face. you wonder if he remembers you all those years ago, wonders if he remembers feeling sorry for you. he probably doesn’t with the way he tries flirting with you.
it’s not like you don’t expect it, knowing he had to go through a whole pep talk before this, but you still feel surprised. he doesn’t look like someone who would be this forward, but you can’t say you didn’t like it.
he asks for your name (proving he really doesn’t know you), and asks how the party is going for you. cocking your head slightly, you answer his questions, noticing how his eyes dart down to your lips occasionally. it doesn’t take long for you both to head up to a room together, full of giggles and laughs.
you didn’t realize how much you would be into this, into him. he was desperate, hands all over you as he groaned into your mouth. you thought you would have to beg him to eat you out, but he was the one practically whining out to have a taste of you. it’s even better once he starts fucking you, taking care of every single need of yours before his own.
it’s over faster than you want it to be. he looks a little panicked afterwards, confused on what exactly he should do. you wonder how often he does this, if he even does this at all. you brush it off by asking him to come lay down by you. he presumably pushes all his worries away to lay behind you, arm tentatively wrapping around your side.
you wonder if you pushed it too far by asking him to sleep with you like this. you both could’ve left the room together, parted ways for the night, and probably never see each other again. it makes you think if this was all he wanted with you. sex. it’s not that you were hoping for more, but mark seems like a nice guy.
you have a quick conversation, thanking him for tonight. it feels too formal, almost as if you were ending a date. this is mark, someone you don’t know well and have never talked to. you don’t know why you push the hairs out of his face or why you let him wrap his arm around you. you should keep distance between you two, but you don’t.
it’s hard to explain what you really want right now, but all you can do is fall asleep in his hold.
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you wake up earlier than mark, watching his chest rise and fall.
you find yourself cuddled into his side, using his arm like a pillow. you get up quietly to not disturb him, picking up your clothes from the night before. you hate staying at a random person’s place, but what else can you do in a situation like this. you find your phone, looking at your friends messages saying how she’s back at your shared apartment.
you send her a quick text that you’re heading back soon. you wonder what she’d say about all this, wonder if she remembers your encounter with mark from all those years ago. you take one last look at mark, sleeping peacefully on the bed, unknowing that you’re about to leave him there by himself.
you ponder on leaving your phone number for a few moments. nothing bad could come from it, but you don’t know if he would even want to see you after this. you bite your lip as you unlock the door, slipping out into the quiet frat house. you spot his friend passed out on a couch, a few others sleeping on the floor or other seats.
you debate on walking back to your apartment, but you’re sore everywhere. you mentally curse out mark as you try to find an uber, wincing when you look at the prices. you try to convince yourself that it's better than walking, better than waiting for the bus, and better than having to hear everyone else talk. 
once your ride arrives, you're quick to hop in. it’s quiet for the most part, the radio playing a song you’re not too familiar with. you mull over every decision you've made within the past twelve hours, and as much as you want to regret every single one, you can’t. it was a good night, you met a good person, and you got good sex out of it. what’s there to complain about?
you can’t help but wonder how mark feels.
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a few days pass, nothing really exciting happens.
you have class, you go to your job, and with the free time you have, you study or hangout with your friends. today’s a day where you've been out for a while, your friends dragging you out of your apartment and away from all the stress of a job and studying. even though you complain, they’re quick to see the smile on your face once you’re actually out. 
there’s few times where you hang out at the campus. after your freshman year, you stayed close to the areas around your apartment. the campus felt too far and suddenly felt like it was only there for business. but your friends insist on eating on the quad. it’s a nice day, and you can’t really say no to eating outside with warm weather and friends around you.
you don’t know what possesses you to look over your shoulder, but you do. you regret it immediately, noticing mark walking down a sidewalk to wherever he’s going. you’re not sure why you stare for so long, it’s not like you want to know where he’s going or who he could be meeting with. he does look nice when he’s dressed casually, though.
you realize you might’ve stared for too long once you see him turn back at you. it’s quick, but he does a double take, realizing it’s you that’s staring at him. you quickly whip your head back to your friends, internally panicking on what you should do. you have about twenty seconds to decide if he does come over.
this would be your first time seeing mark after the party, probably your second time seeing mark on campus at all. does he even want to say hi? and what will your friends think? they’ll wonder why you’re trying so hard to ignore the man that is currently walking towards you. you don’t really want to talk about it just yet.
you realize you might have to when you hear mark call out your name. you take a deep breath, slowly turning around to give him a small wave. you can feel the gazes of your friends fall onto you without even having to look at them. there’s a soft smile on his face, hands wrapping around his backpack straps as he gets closer.
“uh, hey, how are you?” he asks a little awkwardly
“i’m doing fine? how are you?” you can hear your friends whisper behind you as you feel the back of your neck go hot.
“i’ve doing fine, i’ve just… been thinking about you. you kinda just, like, left that morning.”
you sigh, fingers moving to play with the grass under you. is he really thinking about that night? does he expect you to want to do it again? you shrug, “yeah, i didn’t really know what else to do. i didn’t want to stay there all by myself.”
“oh, sorry. i could’ve… walked out with you- i mean, if you had asked.”
“no, it’s okay. i know your friend was still there.”
he nods, “yeah, i know. but, um, if you’re not busy soon, then can we hang out? just us two?”
you’re a little shocked that he can just ask that so casually. it’s like you’ve both been friends for so long, as if it was always normal for him to ask the girls he meets up with to hang out. in another world, you would probably say yes to him, but you can’t think of a good reason to tell him yes. “mark,” you start, “i’ll be busy this whole week so… i’m not sure if i’ll be able to.”
he takes a few moments to take in your words. he stares at you before finally staring at the floor. he nods slowly, offering you an apologetic smile before speaking, “that’s fine, i just wanted to see-” he takes a breath, “wanted to see what you would say.”
you let out a small sorry, and he takes it as a sign that it’s time for him to go. he takes a few steps back, watching as you give him an apologetic look. “i’ll, uh, maybe see you again? soon? i mean, like, if you ever want to.”
you feel a little awkward as you try to avoid any more eye contact with him. “yeah. i’ll see you, mark.”
he takes a few more steps back before fully turning around. you look at him out of the corner of your eye, watching as he spares you a few more glances. he looks a little disappointed, but he doesn’t try to force you into what you don’t want to do. that’s a good thing about him, you think.
you let out a heavy exhale, now fully facing your friends. when you notice the silence among the group, you look up. everyone is staring at you with smiles on their faces, their faces practically begging for you to say something. you bite back a laugh as you try to ignore it, but one of them speaks up, “what even was that?”
you huff, “just… someone i met the other night.”
if you ever meet mark lee again after this, you might just have to curse him out for having to awkwardly explain to your friends what just happened.
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it’s another day when you're back on campus.
there’s no friends this time around, no way for you to relax. you have a class today, getting upset with your past-self for thinking you could wake up this early for a class. you usually try to grab a quick snack beforehand to keep yourself awake. you make your way to your campus’s coffee shop. it might be 50/50 on whether it’s good or not, but it’s closer than anything else.
you think you deserve a sweet treat, a chocolate muffin that would probably cure every single thing that’s happened to you these past weeks (that also somehow all lead back to mark lee). you don’t really expect anything but a long line of other students waiting to order, but there you see the man himself, mark lee, sitting at a bench. 
you’ve learned your lesson from last time, quickly moving out of his sight and choosing not to stare at him. you make your way to the line, trying hard to ignore him. your eyes subconsciously move to look at the side of his face. he’s wearing glasses, hanging low on his nose as he scrolls through his phone.
you wonder if he’s waiting for his friend or if he’s just waiting for his class to start. there’s an impulse to walk over to him and make conversation, smiling as you ask about his morning. you’d be willing to be a bit late to your class if it meant to talk to him more. you’re just not sure he’d feel the same way.
you watch as he looks up from his phone, rolling his head around to stretch. before he can catch you staring you look away, straight ahead to the menu in front of you. you have to wonder if you’re making this hard for yourself on purpose. you don’t have to think about him so much, especially if he might not even be thinking about you.
well, he’s thinking about you, but probably not in the way you’re thinking about him. it makes you sad, you could’ve at least been friends with him. even now, as you stare at him a few feet away, you could easily eat your snack with him. you could laugh at how nervous he gets, could get him to warm up to you as he gets more comfortable.
but you don’t.
you pay for your muffin, wait for it to be handed to you, and take a whole separate route to your class. before you walk out of the building, you take one last look at him, watching how he stares off into the distance. you don’t want him to see you, quickly walking off away from him.
what you miss is mark staring at you as you walk away. there’s a small smile on his face, seeing you rush off. he doesn’t care that this is the second time he’s seen you, doesn’t care that you don’t even notice him. he likes seeing you like this, so different than how you presented yourself at the party, not that it’s a bad thing.
he wishes that he could go up and talk to you, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. when he walked back to his apartment after the day he saw you with your friends, he decided that you probably weren’t interested. as much as he wants to talk to you, it’s better to give you your space. he just wishes he never ruined his chances with you.
he checks the time on his phone, wondering how haechan could be so late. before he can pull up his messages with haechan, he shows up. there’s a lazy smile on his face as he walks down the hall. mark rolls his eyes as haechan gets closer. haechan only chuckles, slugging an arm around mark’s shoulder. mark is quick to take it off, earning a quick whine from haechan.
wordlessly, they start moving to their shared class. mark doesn’t bother to ask haechan how he’s doing, clearly having a nice morning if he decided to show up so late. haechan laughs when he sees mark so annoyed, patting his shoulder before he speaks, “i have good news, you’ll never guess who i saw.”
mark hums disinterestedly, knowing it was probably someone he saw doing something crazy at a party.
“i saw your girl walking by just now.”
mark's head snaps towards his friend, haechan laughing at how wide mark’s eyes are. haechan picks up his pace, “that’s not even the best part. i said hi. and she knew who i was.”
mark furrows his eyebrows, “why would you do that? did she… did she say anything else?”
“i just asked if she had any plans, but she just shrugged and said she was probably gonna go out this weekend with her friends.”
mark smacks his lips as they near their building. he pushes the door open, air slapping against his face as they step in. he lets out an exasperated sound, “well, do you know, like, where she’s going?”
haechan coos at mark, “you’re so sweet, such a sweet boy. she didn’t say, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to find out, right?”
mark is deep in thought. if he did find you, and that’s if he really tried, would you even want to talk to him? he’s not sure if you want that kind of thing with him, but he wonders if he can still try. if you brush him off, then he realizes that’s probably it. he could respect your opinion, as long as you tell him what you want.
before they enter their class, mark stares at haechan, “right, there’s no harm in trying.”
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mark feels nervous tonight.
it doesn’t feel like the last time he went to a party, more confident and driven. now, he has a goal in his mind: to find you. he thinks it’s funny how nervous he’s being, it’s not even guaranteed that he’d see you again, not guaranteed that you would want to talk to him. if it doesn’t end up working out, he’ll just use tonight as a de-stressor, forcing all thoughts of you away.
haechan helps get his mind off of things on the way there. he doesn’t bring you up, chooses to talk about other mundane stuff. it would help more if mark didn’t know that haechan was just trying to distract him. it does make him realize how good of a friend he’s been through all of this.
when they get close to the place, haechan has to stop himself from laughing at how nervous mark looks, “you know she might not even be in there, right? it’s literally a saturday night, she could be anywhere.”
mark lets out the breath he’s been holding, “yeah, i guess.”
“do whatever you want tonight,” haechan huffs, “this is about you.”
with that, they enter the house. it’s a lot smaller than the frat, people all around mark as he enters. mark tries to scan the room, but can’t quite seem to catch you. you’re easy to spot, so that tells mark that you might not be here. before he can think about it more, haechan drags him off so he can get a drink.
haechan offers him some, but mark declines. if he does see you, he doesn’t want to mess it up by being potentially drunk. he tries to look around the room again from this angle, but he still can’t find you. it was bound to happen.
he’s about to give up when he notices a group of people move out of their spot, and there you are.
he knows you're there talking to a friend, but he can only see you. you remind him of how he first met you at the other party. he wants to walk over, wants to say hi, wants to talk to you. he forgets that haechan is there, beginning to take a few steps towards you.
he’s quickly stopped by haechan tugging on his arm, a certain look on his face, “are you really doing this?”
“i need to talk to her. even if she tells me to go away, i just- i need to hear it from her.”
haechan lets go of his arm, realizing that this is something that mark is serious about. “i don’t want to stop you. i’ll be here if you end up getting heartbroken,” haechan jokes.
mark just smiles, nodding before he walks away from him. he stops his hands from shaking as he gets closer. you’re turned away from him, and he doesn’t really know what else to do than tap your shoulder. you jump a little before turning around, your eyes wide as you realize it’s mark. he can’t help but notice your eyes soften a little when you see it’s just him.
“hey, uh, i didn’t expect to see you here.” he says to you. 
a faint smile forms on your face, “i can’t say i’m too surprised to see you.”
he lets out an embarrassed laugh, smiling to himself when he sees you laugh too. looking behind you, he sees your friend smiling at the two of you. you turn back to your friend, a wordless exchange happening in front of mark.
your friend puts her hands up in defeat, looking at mark with a wry smile, “i just got a text from our friend saying she needs help. i guess i have to leave you two alone now!”
mark gives your friend a wave as she says bye to the both of you. she rushes off to another part of the house, mark not missing the mischievous look on her face. now that it’s the two of you alone, shy and awkward smiles exchanged between the two of you. no one really knows what to say or how to start. 
“how have you been-”
“it’s been a while-”
you both talk over each other. you stare at each other with wide eyes, quickly laughing to yourselves. mark thinks he should be embarrassed by this, but he takes in how pretty you look while you laugh. he would embarrass himself for hours if it meant to see you smile.
the laughs subside and mark tries to quickly come up with something to say. there’s so many people around, the music is too loud, and you feel far from him. before he can say anything, you beat it to him, “do you wanna go somewhere more quiet?”
he can’t help but hear the subtle undertone of your words, a double meaning hidden behind them. he nods slowly, watching you grab his arm, just like the other night. he gets dragged through the crowd, weaving through all the people, his eyes remain on your back. your touch is warm, and mark likes having your hand on him. 
there’s not a lot of options for a “quiet place” in the house. most of the rooms are locked, and the ones that are open have people openly having sex with an unlocked door. mark grimaces at the sight while you laugh at his face. you opt for a restroom, tilting your head at mark, asking if he’s okay with it. he walks in before you, scanning the room and letting you in.
he watches you lock the door, hopping onto the sink counter as you stare at him. he wants to talk to you, he really does, but you staring at his lips makes it quite hard for him. he takes a step closer to you, your hands wrapping around his neck, pulling him flush against the counter. you’re so close to him, and he can feel his heart racing as he recalls his last meeting with you.
he licks his lips, his cheeks hot, eyes wandering all across your face. you chuckle at him, smiling as you say, “can i kiss you, mark?”
he doesn’t even answer you, pressing his lips against yours without hesitation. as much as he wanted to hold back, he seems to lose all control when it comes to you. he can’t pretend like you didn’t come out in his dreams every single night while also consuming his thoughts in the day. his hands hold your cheeks, almost checking if you’re really there with him.
the kisses are slow, getting used to each other once more. one if his hands slides down to your waist, squeezing at the skin. his tongue licks at your bottom lip, relishing in the small moan you let out. he licks into your mouth, his hand sliding under your shirt. you press your hips close to his, feeling how he’s growing hard in his pants just from kissing.
you can’t help but let your hips roll against his, slow and teasing as he lets out a low groan into your mouth. you’re just as needy as he is, always admiring him from afar now that you see him more on campus. it’s weird how the universe works, bringing him to you when all you wanted to do was try to ignore him.
you can feel yourself getting wet, mark grinding into you as he lets out soft pants into your mouth. you take it all in, finally getting what you wanted. you could try to get rid of all the thoughts that you have about him, but it’s hard when he’s… mark lee.
you can feel yourself becoming more needy, embarrassingly so. mark looks the same, his cheeks pink as he lets out soft grunts of your name. when you start kissing down his jawline, he suddenly pulls his upper half away from you. shock paints your face, and he’s quick to explain himself, “i just- i wanted to, uh-”
“can you cum like this? it’s okay if you do mark, i think it’s cute.”
he whines out, “no! well, yeah, i can, but i wanted to-”
“really, mark. don’t worry, i’ll let you eat me out afterwards.”
he’s quickly losing the battle, his mouth slowly inching towards you again. his hips buck up at the mention of getting to eat you out, memories of your taste on his tongue playing in his mind. he almost gives up, but he’s determined. he slowly peels himself from you, hooded eyes and a flushed face looking straight at you.
“i, uh, i wanted to talk. i mean, like, talk about… i guess, us?”
you catch your breath, squeezing your legs together as you try to calm yourself down, “is there an us? we’ve only met up once, and it was for sex.”
“that’s true, but i…” he trails off a bit, putting his words together, “i want to talk to you more. i want to get to know you, because i really liked being with you the other time.”
you try to hold back any butterflies from forming at his words. as much as you want to give in, you have to be careful, “but wasn’t it just sex? i thought that’s all you wanted from me.”
his hand moves to your thigh, his thumb smoothing over your skin, “that’s true, but i didn’t expect to like it- like you so much. and i don’t expect you to think the same thing, but i just… had to tell you.”
you choose to stare at his hand on your thigh instead of his face. it’s easier to avoid how his eyes shine thinking about his feelings for you. it’s not like it wasn’t obvious, especially after your friends saw him the other day. you bite the inside of your cheek, “you like me? even though you don’t know me, even if we’ve met only once?”
“that’s why i want to get to know you. i want to know what you like and dislike. i want to know what your favorite songs are, want to know what you do when you’re free. i want to be there to learn it all.”
his words feel heavy, and you can feel your own feelings bubbling in your throat. what about you was so interesting for him? did he have a reason to find you pretty under him? what did you do for him to have such strong feelings so fast?
you speak slowly, “are you sure? i- i brushed you off the other day. another day i chose not to talk to you even though i saw you. am i really someone you want to talk to?”
mark smiles at your words, there’s no faltering on his end, “it’s my fault for not telling you what i wanted. i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, either. if you didn’t want to talk to me, i didn’t want to force you to.”
your mouth opens and closes, not really knowing what else to say. you can tell he’s been thinking about this, been taking your feelings into consideration. if it were any other guy, they wouldn’t care about you, only thinking with their dicks as they talk to you. it puts you at ease knowing that mark is being genuine about it all.
“that’s why i wanted to talk to you tonight. i really had no intention of doing all this-” he makes a gesture between you two, “-with you, even if i really really wanted to. i was prepared for everything.”
you laugh at him, letting out the breath you’ve been holding, “i also want to say sorry. i didn’t mean to be so… mean. i wanted to talk to you, too. i just thought that you only wanted a one time thing, or that you just wanted sex.”
his hand reaches for yours, and you don’t try to brush it off. you don’t quite grab his hand just yet, but you let him hold on. he stares at you gently, “i’m sorry if i made you feel that way.”
you shake your head, “it’s not your fault, i was just thinking too much.”
the two of you sit in silence for a couple of moments. you can hear the loud music bouncing through the thin walls. you can hear people shouting over the music, loud laughs echoing down the halls. even through all the noise, it feels like it’s just the two of you in the room. this is your space with him, and you like how it feels.
after a few more beats of silence, he speaks up, “can i… can i take you out sometime? like, i mean, like, take you out on a date? that isn’t a party? just… wherever you want?”
you let out a small laugh at his nervous, jumbled words. his cheeks turn pink at the sound, head falling to your shoulder as he groans in embarrassment. you hope he can’t hear your thumping heart as you answer him, “i would like that. i want to go on a date with you, mark.”
you can feel him smile against the skin of your shoulder. he whispers out a thank you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. you wrap your arms behind his back, pulling him close as you hum, “do you think we should get out of here?”
he moves to look at you, “definitely.”
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you’re unexpectedly nervous for today.
after the party, you and mark exchanged numbers before you both went separate ways for the night. you never expected to see him, never expected to not have sex with him, and never expected to even give him your phone number. now, as you stare at the shared messages from the previous days, you realize how much you kept yourself away from him.
it almost felt too easy for you to fall for him. you tried to hold back, but the care he holds for you gets to your heart. you don’t mind, knowing that he’s felt like this just as long as you had, no restraint shown in how he takes your feelings seriously. a few weeks ago, you could’ve never felt nervous about what might happen today.
it’s nothing serious, mark even saying that it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. like he said before, he just wants to get to know you as a person. the thought makes you shake out a breath, trying to take it just as easy as him.
you mull over your clothing options, wondering what exactly you should wear for a casual hangout. he probably won’t care as much as you think he would, but you don’t want to seem too prepared or too lax. you’re overthinking it again. it’s just mark. it should be easy with him, he’s interested in you, not the you you try to put on.
you grab whatever feels fitting for the day. you look back at your phone, seeing mark’s text saying he’s ready when you are. you’re quick to type out that you’re about to start heading over. it’s just a coffee shop, you think. you try not to put too much meaning into it yet.
it’s not too far from you, a fifteen minute bus ride to the place. throughout the ride, you try to drown out your nervous thoughts with your favorite playlist. it seems the universe is against you when all it plays are the love songs in your playlist. too coincidental.
you get there before him. it looks like a nice, quiet spot. mark says he’s been going here for quite some time, one of his favorite spots to talk to his friends or study. you can’t help but wonder if it’s true or if he’s lying to impress you. you figure today is the best day to find that out.
you wait for him to arrive. you refrain from texting him, deciding to just wait it out. you don’t want to seem too worried just yet, he could just be running late. thoughts of him standing you up enter your mind. you have to laugh at the thought, realizing that mark doesn’t seem to be someone to do that. you don’t know him well yet, but you’re sure he isn’t that evil.
as if to prove your point, you hear someone calling your name. turning to the direction of the voice, you're greeted with mark lee walking towards you. there’s a bright smile on his face, an arm waving at you. you smile and wave back. as he gets closer, he looks over you, a shy smile on his face as he scans over your outfit. you get just embarrassed as him, looking away from his heavy stare.
“should we go inside?” you ask.
he’s quick to agree, opening the door for you. when you enter, you’re hit with the strong smell of coffee. there’s a few others inside, chatting away or typing on their laptops with their own drinks. you scan over the lengthy menu, opting to choose something lighter for today.
mark chooses the same thing as you, and you laugh at him. he says he doesn’t like coffee and wonders why you chose what you chose. he might be thinking too much into it, but you think it’s cute. you try to order separately, but he practically begs to pay for your drink. you give in, you can’t just say no to a free drink.
it’s a bit awkward when you both wait for your drinks. you can see him roll on his heels as he waits, can see how he tries to pick out what he wants to say. as you try to come up with every possible response, he speaks, “how was your day?”
you let out a small chuckle at his question, “good, actually. i spent most of my time thinking about right now, even i kinda surprised myself.”
he smiles at your admittance, “yeah? i did, too. i was nervous, that maybe you didn’t want to see me.”
“i can’t believe that i’m making you feel like that,” you let out an apologetic laugh, “trust me, i’ll be asking to hang out with you a lot now.”
before mark can say anything, your drinks are set out. you both thank the barista, and you start to move to one of the empty booths. before you can, mark catches onto your arm, “can we actually, uh, sit outside? the sky looks really pretty right now, i think it would be cool to sit outside.”
you smile, quickly nodding at his words. once again, he holds open the door for you, sliding out and looking at the small tables set outside. he was right, the sky is really pretty today. he lets you choose a spot, and you choose towards the corner where no one can bother the two of you.
he’s quick to speak up again, “i really like this place. i found it a while ago while walking around with my friend one day.”
“was it with haechan?”
mark cocks his head a little, “you know him?”
“other than his name and him being your friend, not really. he introduced himself to me one time, though.”
he laughs at that, “good to know. he doesn’t really like coming to places like this, so i would just come here by myself. i even considered asking if they were hiring.”
“and? did you?”
“i didn’t. i would be crushed if they rejected me and i wouldn’t be able to show my face there ever again.”
you choke on your drink at his words, a laugh trying to escape as you let out coughs. mark is quick to pat your back, laughing while trying to calm down your coughing fit. as your throat clears, the coughs fade into laughs, mark joining you as he apologizes, “sorry for being too funny.”
you jokingly glare at him, “you owe me, mark lee.”
silence washes over the two of you again. this time, it’s more comfortable. the drink is good, mark’s company feels good, and you’re happy you came today. you watch as he takes out his phone, quickly snapping a shot of the bright blue sky. it seems practiced, something he always does. you can’t help but ask, “what about the sky makes you like it so much?”
he shrugs, “i just think it’s pretty. it’s not going anywhere, and it’s nice to take a break from it all and look up at the sky.”
“i’ve never really thought about it that way. i don’t really take the time to just stare at it.”
he hums at your words, “it’s nice to look and think about all the pretty things in the world.”
you try to ignore how he stares at you while he says that, quickly breaking eye contact with him. there’s a shy, but proud smile on his face. you chuckle, “you’re too cool for me, mark.”
“one day you’ll be as cool as me. just know that i’ll send you pictures of sunsets or the moon, or literally just, like, anything. anything that reminds me of you.”
he lists the things that he just told you he finds pretty, indirectly implying that all the pretty things remind him of you. your heart beats a little harder, quickly taking a sip of your drink to try to ignore it. you try to come up with anything else to get rid of the rush growing inside you, “you know, i actually had seen you once before.”
his head quickly turns to you, “really? when?”
“it was during freshman year, i saw you getting dragged down a hallway.”
mark racks through all his memories, pinpointing when exactly that could’ve happened. you watch the realization dawn on his face, quickly shoving his face into his hands in embarrassment. you shake his shoulder a bit, laughing when he makes a humiliated sound. you question him further, “where were you guys even going?”
after ruffling his own hair a bit, his head slowly lifts up to get a quick look at you. his face is red, hands fidgeting in shame. you wonder what could possibly be so bad. he speaks up when he starts to see you get worried a bit, “it wasn’t even anything crazy, he was just trying to take me to an event with free food in it.”
you can’t stop yourself from laughing, placing your hand on his arm to stable yourself. you decide not to think too hard when his other hand lays on top of yours, thumb smoothing over your skin. it feels like it should always be there, his warm palm calming down your nerves. it should always be this easy.
“if it was just that, then why are you so embarrassed?” you ask, laugh airy.
“i know, but i could’ve skipped free pizza and instead talked to you! it’s not fair you’ve known me longer than i’ve known you. maybe we could’ve… we would’ve…” he doesn’t finish the end of his sentence, but you can assume what he’s trying to say.
“two poor freshmen students couldn’t help themselves to free pizza. i can’t blame you, honestly.”
he squeezes your hand and takes a breath before speaking, “you’ll go with me to get free pizza next time? you’re, like, officially invited to the next free pizza event.”
you chuckle, “would very much prefer you to take me out to an actual pizza place, thank you very much.”
his eyes shoot towards yours, “does that mean you want to see me again?”
you put his words together, “mark lee, were you trying to get me to go on another date with you by asking me to go to a campus event with free pizza?”
“well, it almost worked, didn’t it?”
“you can think of it as me choosing the next spot.”
his fingers move to try to intertwine his with yours. you bite your lip, letting him hold onto your hand. you don’t want to hold back anymore, he’s made it easy for you to let go of it all. 
“i can’t wait. it’s my turn to confess.”
you wait for him to continue, watching him hold back a smile as he pays full attention to your hand holding his. you tell him to focus, and he lets out a sheepish laugh, “that day haechan talked to you, he told me that you were going out that weekend. i really wanted to see you, so we both ended up going out that same weekend, too.”
“how did you know where i would be?”
“we didn’t,” he chuckles, “i just hoped that i would find you, hoped that you would be there. i got lucky that night.”
“it’s like you knew exactly where to find me.”
“it’s almost as if our subconscious were trying to bring us together,” he let’s out a proud noise at his own words while you playfully roll your eyes at him.
“mark, i will threaten to cancel our next date,” you joke.
he hums, “i know where to look to find you, don’t worry.”
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mark finds himself in bed with you again.
this time, he knows exactly why. he’s in love with you, and you finally admitted that you’re in love with him. he didn’t rush you, didn’t pressure you into reciprocating his feelings. he could see yourself becoming more comfortable around him, leaning into his touch, smiling at his words. he wouldn’t change anything (besides maybe that day he got dragged by haechan), in order to be here in bed with you.
even if all he had with you was that one night, he’d be happy knowing that he at least spent some time with you. but he got what he wanted, you let him into your life. he would’ve waited years if it meant getting with you.
so as he makes his way in between your thighs once more, he looks to see your face staring down at him with love. though he’s having sex with you again like all those nights ago, it feels different this time. he’s not here just to fuck you, but he’s here because he loves you. what’s even better is that now you love him back, and it feels right as you moan out his name.
he’s softer this time around, no rush in getting you both off as fast as possible. there’s no loud music or screaming coming through the walls, and you’re laying on top of your own bed. he’s here in your room, enjoying the presence of you right next to him.
he licks a stripe up your dripping cunt, savoring the taste that he’s been craving. he looks up to gauge your reaction, a smiling forming on his face to see your face scrunched up with need. he moves to suck on your clit, humming around it, feeling your thighs tighten around his head. he doesn’t bother moving them this time around, letting them try to shut around his head.
you can feel his tongue prod at your entrance, your hands move to tangle in his hair. he just can’t get enough of how sweet you taste. he thinks he could spend hours here in between your thighs, licking up your slick. he thanks every god out there for letting him be here with you, letting him be so entranced by all of you.
he grabs you by the waist to pull you closer to him. you can feel his nose press against your clit, and you can’t help but practically use his face to grind into him. he opens his eyes a bit, looking at the sight of you so fucked out just from his mouth. you’re all he can think about.
you can feel one of his fingers replace his tongue, moving to tease your clenching hole. you gasp out, tears welling in your eyes, “mark, please. need you so bad, you don’t even know-”
“baby-” you moan at the pet name, “i know how much you need me, i could never keep you waiting.” he slides a finger in, relishing in the way you clench around his digit. his mouth focuses on your clit, listening to the moans and whimpers you let out. it’s all because of him this time, all of the things he does for you because of how much he loves you.
he slips another finger in, scissoring them inside you, earning him a tug at his hair. his fingers move to curl inside you, enjoying the feeling of your warm walls wrapped around his fingers. you whimper when he finds your sweet spot, thighs practically trapping him between your thighs. he commits that spot to memory, now forever burned into his mind.
it doesn’t take long for him to get you close to cumming. he’s putting all his attention on you, his desperation showing with how greedily he’s moving against you. you feel your body heat up, thighs beginning to shake around him. “m-mark, ‘m gonna cum, wanna cum so bad!” you wait, and you can feel him smile against you.
he pulls his mouth away from you, his fingers still moving inside of you as he thumb reaches to rub your clit. he moves to kiss you, licking into your mouth. you can taste yourself on his tongue, moaning into your mouth as you cum on his fingers. he rides you through it, fingers slowing down as you whine from the overstimulation.
he removes them from you, bringing them up to his mouth. you watch him slide them into his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut with the taste of your cum. he lets out a small groan, and you have to lightly kick his leg to get him to focus. his eyes focus on you again, letting out an embarrassed laugh, trying to redirect it towards you.
“my girl came so fast, did you miss me that much?” he teases.
you roll your eyes, “so what if i did! now, will you let me finally suck you off?”
his eyes bulge out of his head and you have to refrain from laughing at the sight. “i never got to, but you don’t know how much i want to.”
you both trade spots, mark laying to lean against the headboard, his hooded eyes staring down at you. your hands trail up his clothed thighs, and he can’t miss the way you look at his bulge in his sweats. you make eye contact with him as you slide down his sweats and boxers, watching how his hard cock slaps against his stomach.
he lets out a low groan at the sight of you so prettily sat between his legs. you kitten lick his tip before wrapping your hand around his length. you move your hand slowly up and down, smiling at the low groans he lets out at the feeling. you won’t ever admit it to him, but you’ve thought about doing this to him too much, even before you started dating.
you can tell he thought about it too with the way his bleary eyes look at you. his head pushes into the headboard as your lips wrap around his tip, sucking lightly. his hand doesn’t hesitate to move to your cheek, his thumb smoothing over your soft skin. your tongue swirls around his tip, and mark tries hard to stop himself from shoving his cock down your throat.
you move down his cock, trying to take as much of him as you can. you have to wrap a hand at his base, twisting your fist as you bob your head. his hips buck up a little, feeling you gag around him, moaning out an apology. you hum around him, a hand moving to hold down his hip. he lets out a whine at the feeling of vibrations, one of his hands moving to tug at his hair.
“d-doing so good for me- shit, my girl is doing such a good job for me.”
the praise makes your cheeks heat up, and you quicken your movements to hear more. you swallow around him, hearing the anguished groans he lets out. your tongue slides against the underside of his cock, “such a pretty mouth, making me feel so good. you d-don’t know how much i thought about this.”
if only he knew that you feel the same way. as if to respond to him, your eyes look up at his. they almost flutter close, the sight of his cock in your mouth, your pretty eyes batting at him, and the almost glossy look to your eyes sets something off in him. he’s so close, a broken moan escaping him, “if you keep doing that, i’ll cum- oh god, please don’t stop.”
he tries to hold off to make this last longer, but every time you swallow around him, it gets hard for him to hold back. he’s losing his self control, something that you always manage to take away from him. he doesn’t know how you do it, but he thinks it’s because of all the love he holds for you.
it’s your eyes smiling at him that makes him cum. you don’t pull off of him, trying to fit more of his length into your mouth as he spills his cum down your throat. he’s letting out whines of your name, telling you how good you’ve been, how he’s so lucky to have his pretty girl do this for him. you swallow up all his cum, feeling how his cock twitches in your mouth.
you don’t pull away from him right away, causing mark to nervously laugh out at the feeling of overstimulation. you hum around him once more, causing him to let out a small whimper as he tries to pull away. you slowly pull away from him, mark letting out a huff of relief as you lazily smile at him. 
“i think i would’ve passed out if you tried making me cum again.”
you move up to snuggle at his side, nuzzling your face into this neck, “now you know how i feel when i have to get you to stop eating me out.”
he whines out an it’s different! as he wraps his arms around you, tucking you into his chest. he’s warm, slightly sweaty, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. it’s quiet, hearing his heart beat in his chest with you so close to him. you could fall asleep in his arms, but you hear him whisper something above you. you ask him to repeat it, not quite catching it the first time.
“please don't leave me ever again.”
“this is my own apartment-” he laughs at your words, “plus, i think i love you too much to let myself ever leave you.”
he lets out a sigh, calmed by your words, “good. i can’t ever let my girl go anywhere anymore.”
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a/n: I FINALLY FINISHED OH MY GOD. i love writing for mark and towards the end i somehow fell more in love with him... i hope u guys enjoy the second part to how it all goes, please let me know if you did!!!! hehe
taglist: @mwahaechz @froggyforyoongi @ppeachyttae @omlhyck @hazyhae @haechology @hrts4doie @kittydollzz @emvrd @pnkified @se7vnn @p4p1l0nn @jeankirsteinsgf69 @n0hyuck @yoursyuno @doejaejung @ccnicole02 @yuskitty @hyuckills @luvjoongz @sunnyeyes7 @tddyhyck @tmtxtf @arsvita @do0jaem @starfields @yoongjk @qusil @hcluvie @chaeceah @kriizztin
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radiation · 1 year
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I’m soooooooo hungry I want domios pizza I want talkoyaki I want anything. Get me some fettuccine alfredo gimme that uh, that spicy spaghetti that ramen noodles anddddd I’d like a glass of milk please and some peanut butter and crackers and strawberries and a grille cheese… don’t forget the red pepper flapes…. I have a sweet tooth a salty tooth a sour tooth, all of my teeth all the food all for me I’m the delightful foodie with so much to see gimme a little bit of rice and sushi I want it now… a burger of a medium size a side of cruspy yumbly fries give it to me as I please and I’ll show you the Foodie’s Fantasy I’ll eat anything for dinnerspiration….a fond milkshake a BLT even though I don’t care for bacon … hot dog you name it i crave it, I save it I’ll savor it with an open mind I’ll try and I’ll and find , my food joy , the hidden glee , I haven’t been able to see , and for the record I wanna say I’m sorry, for Eating that tomato past when I should, it wasn’t good but I’ve learned mh lesson I won’t be messin if it’s past its due date, I know I don’t wanna waste but there’s danger in that taste, so see me turning over a whole new leaf, spinach leaf, romaine , I’m back to real life again and I just wanna give a shout out to those who believed in me even when I made food mistakes, you gave me a break and I will forever appreciate the kindness it took to see me at my worst , But now I’m well versed so PASS THE BRATWURST shout out to German ancestry, shout out to every country everywhere reppping best foods, I’m talking india ethiopia a foodie’s utopia. Let’s make dinner let’s make a move let’s make a stand let’s go international hand in hand eating every dish we can and when the plane lands - back in america that freedom land they’ll look at me and say, what a truly Hungry man.
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feralthoughtdump · 4 months
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False God
Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, smut, threesome, alcohol and ambiguous substance consumption, lip biting, a little bit of blood, oral (m&f receiving), facefucking, spitroast, a lot of bodily fluids, squirting, a teeny bit of bi!Felix, a little bit of butt stuff, not fully canon compliant (let’s imagine that Felix didn’t find out about Oliver lying)
Word Count: 2k
Felix wasn’t the type who liked to share his toys. Whether it be his girlfriend, or his shiny new friend who comes to visit every summer, Felix felt a certain possession over them that he didn’t like to admit. But Oliver came to Saltburn with that woeful, wide-eyed gaze that Felix couldn’t fully resist. He also couldn’t deny how he looked at his girlfriend and how she looked at him. All of the shared glances across the dinner table, how she’d swallow when he had something witty to say to her, how his gaze would linger on her just a little bit longer than hers. 
Felix trusted her, he knew that she’d never go behind his back. And it’s the trust he holds in her that fuels his desire to let this happen. He adores her. Especially now with her, as Farleigh calls it, slutty fairy costume, and he’d do anything to make her happy, even if it meant letting Oliver touch her in ways that were solely reserved for him.
So, the three of them find themselves in this predicament, with her draped against him, and Oliver leaning against the doorway.
“Baby, know Oliver, right?” She nods, pressing herself closer to his chest. Felix wraps a comforting arm around her midriff, rubbing circles into her exposed skin with his thumb. “It’s his birthday today, and I thought this would be a nice present.” 
His lips pressed against her neck, her pulse thrumming against them, while his hands wandered, pushing the little skirt that she wore past her hips, exposing the intricate set that he bought for this occasion. 
Oliver grins, stepping closer to the pair. He looks at her, the antlers on his head casting a shadow over her glittery doe eyes. 
“She’s a very nice present.” His fingers push at the strap of her fairy wings, letting them fall to the ground with a soft clatter. “How’d you know I was into her?” 
“Saw you looking.” He chuckles and expertly unclaspes the back of her lacy bra. “But I can’t blame you, she’s pretty.” 
His large hand palms at her now exposed tits, rolling a nipple between his fingers. 
She whines and lets her head fall back against his chest, still covered in the ribbed fabric of his tank top. 
“Don’t tease, Felix.” She sighs. 
Oliver approaches them, stripping himself of his embroidered suit in the process. The pair watch with bated breath as he sinks to his knees in front of her. He noses at the inside of her thigh, taking in how soft and plush she felt.
He savors her, kissing and nipping at her thighs, letting his fingers drift from her ankles up to her knees. As he pushes her legs apart, Felix thumbs at her pussy through her panties, creating a wet patch on the expensive lace.
“Can I give her a taste?” Oliver asks, lips parted and eyes gleaming, staring up at Felix. 
“Of course you can.” Felix carefully positions her on the bed, her back flat on the mattress and Oliver places himself in front of her, right in between her thighs. 
Her shaky fingers push the lace waistband past her hips, but Oliver stops her, letting his teeth catch on the fabric to do it himself. He hums at the sight of her pussy, all wet and wanting. 
Felix places himself over her, jerking at his cock as Oliver licks a strip along the length of her folds. 
She yelps, pulling back, oversensitive from Felix’s previous ministrations, but he tightens his hold on her, keeping her in place.
“C’mon, be a good girl. Let him make you feel good.” She turns her head, bashful at how his words affect her, but he takes her chin and forces her eyes to meet his. “You’ll be good for Ollie, for me. Won’t you?”
She licks her lips, shallow breaths making her chest rise and fall. 
“Yeah, I’ll be good,” she whispers. 
He smiles, and affectionately pats her cheek, and her thighs widen as she shifts against the mattress, trying to relax. 
With a nod of approval from Felix, Oliver grabs her thighs and pulls her onto his face. His tongue laps at her, circling her clit and teasing at her entrance. 
As she parts her lips, moaning at the heat that grows in the pit of her stomach, Felix places his thumb against her tongue, keeping her jaw open. He takes this as an opportunity to slip his cock into her wanting mouth. She sputters around him as the length of his shaft fills her mouth. 
“Fuck.” He groans. “Taking me so well, baby.” 
Felix fucks himself into her mouth, letting his tip hit the back of her throat. She hollows her cheeks before sucking, letting her lips wrap tight around his shaft, saliva dripping past her lips with every drag of his cock. 
Oliver wraps lips around her clit and slips two fingers into her dripping entrance. His fingers curl and she cries out. 
“Do that again,” Felix demands. “She likes it.”
He angles his fingers, letting the pads of his fingers press against her G-spot. At the sight of her legs shaking, he curls his fingers, practically forcing her hips to jerk against his face. 
She feels her body tense, falling closer and closer to the edge, as Oliver teases her, over and over again. Her arousal, in combination with his saliva, is spread across his lips. 
It’s messy, but none of them care. Both she and Felix love the sight of his flushed cheeks, eyes half-lidded in pleasure from the way her cunt tastes. 
“Don’t let her cum yet” he breathily orders “Have her suck you off first.” 
Felix manhandles her onto her knees and crawls onto the mattress, he taps his cock against cunt, dripping with a mixture of both her arousal and Oliver’s saliva. She looks up at Oliver, keeping her mouth open and drooling, and sticks out her tongue, an open invitation for him to start fucking her face. 
“So well behaved,” Oliver whispers, tapping his hard, flushed cock on her tongue, pre-cum dripping down into her throat. “You’re Felix’s good girl, aren’t you?”
Before she can respond, Oliver shoves his cock past her lips and Felix pushes himself inside her, forcing all of him into her cunt. She yelps around Oliver’s cock, the vibrations from the back of her throat making him shudder. 
The sound of skin slapping against one another fills the room as Felix fucks into her, letting his hips slam against hers. 
The reflection in the mirror across from them is obscene. Her chin is covered in her own drool, smeared across her cheeks and chin, dripping onto the expensive sheets. Felix has his head thrown back in pleasure, hands on her hips with a bruising hold, sweat gleaming on his skin, soaking through the front of his thin tank top. 
Oliver takes Felix’s face and plasters his lips against his. He’s taken by surprise, but he grabs the back of Oliver’s neck and pulls him in closer, forcing Oliver’s hips to push his cock deeper into her mouth. She grabs at the back of Oliver’s thigh, digging her nails into his skin. He hisses at the sting and bites down on Felix’s lower lip, a metallic taste blooming on his tongue. 
They pull away from each other, and blood trickles down Felix’s chin. 
Oliver stares at Felix, about to apologize, but Felix grins. “I could taste her on you, you know? Doesn’t she taste good?” 
All he can do is nod in agreement, cock twitching in her mouth. 
Oliver nods and leans forward, licking up the blood pooling on Felix’s lips. The pair lock their lips together. Wet sounds of their kisses and Felix’s cock being sucked into her pussy reverberate throughout the room, accompanied by her gagging and choking. 
She whines, drawing both of their attention back to her.
“Aww, my baby needs some attention?” At the sound of her whimpering in confirmation, Felix chuckles, shaking his head. “I’ll give you some attention then.” 
Felix reaches forward, pressing his thumb into Oliver’s open mouth, biting his lip at the sight of him swirling his tongue around the digit. With a loud pop, Felix removed his thumb from Oliver’s mouth. 
Wet with Oliver’s saliva, Felix’s thumb circles her other hole, slowly teasing it open. She whines, feeling a foreign stretch as his thumb pushes past the muscle. 
“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” He groans. “Don’t know why I haven’t fucked your tight little ass yet. Maybe I should tomorrow, I know your pussy’s going to be sore.” 
Her holes clench around Felix, the feeling of fullness, overtaking her body. She shudders, legs about to give out underneath her, as he forcefully drives his cock into her and teases at her hole, letting his thumb push against the rim, stretching it open. 
“Oh, she likes that, doesn’t she?” Oliver grins, messily grabbing at the length of her hair, forcing her to look at him. “You like it dirty? Like getting all of your holes filled?” 
She blinks away the dark streaks of mascara that run down her face, trying her best to nod. He lets his cock slip free of her lips and gives her cheek a pinch.
“Come on, use your words.” 
“Yes,” She gasps, back arching, pushing herself into Felix. “I like it.” 
He presses her front into the mattress, forcing her back to arch deeper into Felix. His fingers wrap around his hard, leaking cock, letting her spit lubricate his hand as he tugs, slowly bringing himself closer and closer to his own release. 
She tightens around Felix, whining as she feels an oncoming orgasm about to wash over her. 
Her glassy eyes look up at Oliver’s and he coos, thumbing at her cheek. 
“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” 
“Yes, Ollie, I- ah!” 
Felix lets his thumb hook inside of her clenching muscle, pulling her into him. 
His cock buries deep inside of her, forcing itself against her cervix. She screams, and Oliver is thankful for the loud music playing throughout the house. Her arousal gushes, spraying against both her, and Felix’s thighs. 
“Fuck, baby, making a mess over here.” Felix groans. His head falls back, panting, his grip on her tightening. 
His hips still, with tense thighs and stifled moans, he cums, coating her insides. Carefully, he slips himself out, using his fingers to spread her pussy open, watching with pride as his cum and her arousal drip out of her clenching, gaping cunt. 
Oliver pushes his cock back into her mouth, releasing down her throat. Her eyes tear up at the sudden intrusion. She’s overwhelmed and over-sensitive, but she swallows around him, obedient as always. 
The trio collapses on the mattress, chests rising and falling in tandem. Felix wraps a strong arm around her and pulls her in close, letting her temple rest on his chest. Oliver gently grazes her shoulders with his fingers, calming her down and letting her shaky and twitchy body slowly fall still. 
The lights of the party filter through the large windows, illuminating their sweat-slicked bodies. They shimmer, her body glitter having rubbed onto each other.
Distanced from the commotion happening outside of his room, it was just the three of them, sprawled across Felix’s bed. It was the three of them. Felix, their shining Adonis, and her and Oliver. Felix’s favorite toys.
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frenziedfireworks · 9 months
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Lost Games
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Fred Weasley x Reader
Summary : Gryffindor loses their match and you have to deal with the aftermath.
CW : SMUT, 18+ Characters, f!reader, breeding & degrading kink, spanking, angry!fred, slight dubcon ? (idk), panty gag, sexy time with a lil bit of plot
A/N : tumblr hates me and uploaded my shit weird so heres try 2... also angry fred is awooga
masterlist
You knew it was going to be a rough night. With Gryffindor losing their quidditch match that always meant you would have to deal with an unhappy Fred. 
You had dusted off your jeans and made your way down to wait for Fred. The moment his red hair peeked around the corner you opened your arms. He yanked you up into his hold and began walking. 
“Fred! Put me down!” You smacked against his shoulder and the boy just grunted.
“No.” Was the only response you got as you squirmed in his arms. It didn’t take long for Fred to get to where he wanted to be, finally planting you on your feet in an abandoned classroom.
“Fred I’m sorry about-“
“Shut up. I don’t want to talk about that pathetic fucking game. Just be quiet and good for me, yeah?” Fred pushed your form against one of the desks, hungry lips attacking yours at mach speed. You gasped into the kiss surprised at his ferocity. 
“Fred-“
“I thought I told you to be quiet. Or do I need to shut you up myself?” Fred delivered a harsh slap to your thigh and you squealed in surprise. You had always known him to have a temper when things didn’t go his way but you had never seen him this worked up. It was indescribably hot. His fingers trailed over your waistband, lips lapping and biting at whatever skin he could get ahold of. 
“I'm taking these off.” Fred ripped at your jean zipper and pulled the fabric down. The cold air made your skin tingle and you were suddenly aware of the wet spot on your panties. Fred’s smirk grew as he noticed, finger trailing lightly over the spot. You felt your body jolt at the touch and you gripped onto his arms.
“So wet.. How naughty.” He clicked his tongue and his finger dipped into the fabric. A moan left your lips before you could understand what was going on. His dark eyes watched you as his finger rubbed your sensitive nub, waiting for any sound you would make. 
He seemed satisfied with his work, finally pulling down your undergarments. He shuffled your panties into his pocket and went back to his brutal attack. His fingers plowed their way through your folds before he inserted two digits into you. The sensation left you speechless as you threw your head back. Wanton moans slipped through your lips as he began pumping his fingers back and forth. His pace got harsher the closer you got and then it was gone all at once. 
“What-“ You started and were met with a harsh hit to the clit. A small scream erupted from your throat and you were sure that if Fred wasn’t so good at hiding the whole school would’ve heard you.
“I fucking told you to be quiet and you just won’t stop. I really do have to do everything myself.” Fred pulled your mouth open and shoveled fabric into it. You smacked at his arms, confused and shocked at the intrusion. 
“Maybe you’ll enjoy the taste of yourself while I ruin this poor pussy of yours. Bet it gets your sick mind off.” Fred’s hands shook desperately to get his pants off, yanking at the materials confining him. Your hole pulsed around nothing, his crude words and anger making you more and more aroused.
“Fuck me..” Fred’s head threw back as his cock slapped against his stomach. Your groans were muffled through your panty-gag as he spat in his hand and gave himself a few starting pumps.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” Is the only words you heard before he was everywhere. His cock slipped through your wet folds and bullied its way inside of you. He only waited a few seconds before beginning to pound away. His pace was cruel and his words were even more demeaning. It was aggressive and hot, only adding to the growing tension in your stomach.
“Fuck. You were built to take me. Going to fill you up and keep going. Bet you’d like that you little fucking slag.” Fred’s hand whipped at your hip and pulled you into him even harder. His grip would definitely leave bruises tomorrow but in the moment you couldn't care less. His face was filled with fury, each thrust taking out the anger from the failed game. Your body was a rag doll in his arms being used for his pleasure. 
You could feel his pace getting erratic, both of you coming close to your highs. Fred’s thumb came down to your nub rubbing small circles to push you just over the edge. Your subdued screams filled the air as you clenched around his cock, your nails digging into his back. Fred continued to fuck you through your high, chasing for his escape.
“Fuck! You’re so fucking tight. I’m gonna fill you up. Take it like the good whore you a-are.” Fred’s voice cracked as his spasms staggered and white ribbons of cum filled you. You rolled your eyes back and pulled your sopping underwear out of your mouth.
“Wow.” Is all you could breathe out as Fred’s head dropped to your shoulder. Your fingers ran soothing circles on the back of his neck as he calmed down.
“Wow is right love. Sorry if I was a little rough..” Fred shrugged awkwardly, pulling himself out of you. You couldn’t help but giggle. The same man had been degrading you not even five minutes ago and now can barely look you in the eyes?
“You’re good. I didn’t expect you to be so mad. Maybe you need to lose more often.” You winked at the boy and he grinned.
“Absolutely not. I always win. But if you want me to fuck you like that more often that can definitely be arranged.” Fred left a few pecks to your cheeks as he handed you your jeans. You smiled and returned the favor.
“I’d love nothing more Weasley.”
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y13evie · 6 months
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I crawled out of a coma for this
You know thats future man clip of Josh hutcherson jerking off? Imagine that with Mike and reader walks in ANNNDDD he’s all subby maybe even gets edged 😋😋
jae i love u so much i missed you
tags: fuck this is driving me crazy, absolutely pure filth. there is nothing sfw about this. afab!reader. dacryphilia maybe + the tiniest blood
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mike had the house to himself. his whines and empty pleas rang throughout the home. he wasn’t usually this needy, but god he hadn’t seen you in so long and his cock was just so achy and leaky in his jeans. he couldn’t take it. he tried to at least go slowly. pumping his cock at a reasonable pace, swiping his thumb over his slit at the tip of his cock for an extra wave of pleasure. he tried so hard to be patient, imaging your voice telling him to not be so needy. but he couldn’t help himself and began wildly grinding his hips into his hand, imagining it was you.
what the brunette failed to realize is that you had walked into his home a few minutes ago. you heard his cries and whines, each of them going straight to your core. after another agonizing minute you decided to make your presence be known. you walk up to his door and slowly open it to realize the heavenly sight.
“mike?”. your eyes hold a false innocence, knowing full well you had savored his pleas up until this moment. his teary eyes batted up at you. his eyelashes barely hiding his doe eyes. mikes chest was heaving and his head was leaned up against the wall. his thick cock was drooling beads of pre coating his hand and length. his tip was bright pink, begging for attention.
“i need you so, so bad.” those six words were all you needed. your lips make quick contact with his, the kiss was sloppy. he lips swollen from his teeth digging into them combined with his never ending whines. your tongue smoothly found his way into his mouth, he didn’t even begin to try and fight for dominance. he was putty under your touch right now. before pulling away your tongue glided over his bottom lip, tasting the metallic remnants of blood from his biting. he whined. you held the palm of your hand out and mike immediately knew what to do. he spat in your hand and guided your wrist to his neglected cock.
you started of slow knowing that he was sensitive and not wanting to overstimulate him, yet. you began to quicken your pace after noticing mike had become accustomed to your slower one. his big round eyes batted up at you once more, this time tears spilt from them. he watched you stroke him with his mouth slightly open, eyes never leaving you. you opened your mouth to let some drool fall onto his already drenched cock. this sent him over the edge. he held your hand in place and began fucking up into your hand. you let him, knowing you weren’t gonna let him get away with it so easily. his cries got louder and he pulled you towards him, lips animalisticly taking your own. you knew he was close. so just when you believed he was gonna cum, you snatch your hand away. he lips left yours, only leaving a string so saliva connecting you two.
“baby please.” tears began to fall again. “you can’t do this to me, not right now. needa cum so bad, please.”. his eyes were pleading you.
“m’ sorry baby, you gotta beg. you know better than to fuck yourself using me without asking first.” your hand cupped his face, wiping away his tears. you know how pent up he was, the way is cock was leaking so badly, and the way you could see it throbbing against his happy trail.
“pleasepleaseplease let me cum. i won’t do it again- ngh, promise baby. just please- let me feel you.” he sniffled back his tears while begging for release. you couldn’t deny him any longer.
“you’re so good for me, my sweet boy”.
your hand make it’s way back onto his length, resuming the pace you originally set. mike reached his high quickly, reducing him to a whiny mess while you helped him ride out his orgasm. huge white spurts of cum painted his tummy and your hand. you let his breathing come back to normal before peeling your hand off his softening cock. mike picked up a towel from the floor and wiped both you and himself off before leading you to his bed. you immediately felt comfortable in the familiar bed. he found his way into your arms, one of the only ways he can fall asleep.
“i love you so much”, he sleepily mumbles into your neck. you give his temple a loving kiss.
“i love you too, mike. you know i’ll always take care of you.”
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cadavercowboy · 3 months
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Just Friends
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: A night of drinking makes Bucky bold and a harmless text makes him bolder.
Word Count: 3.6k+
Warnings: Explicit content (18+ only). Alcohol consumption. Thigh fucking. Orgasm denial. Cum play (microscopically). Oral sex (implied).
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The tip of one finger prods gently at your lower lip, eyebrows scrunching with a wince when a burst of pain emanates from the slightly swollen flesh. A narrow, reddened cut dissects the once smooth surface and you lean closer to your streaked mirror to get a better look. Carefully, you press your lips together as if you’d just applied a layer of lipstick and the sting worsens.
You swear you can feel your pulse throbbing beneath the superficial wound and you sigh. It has ached all day, even more so when you split the small wound open while eating dinner earlier. Yanking open a drawer, you dig around in search of your scarcely-used tub of Vaseline, hoping the sticky goop will prevent your scabbed lip from cracking open again. With a soft touch, you apply a thin layer to your tender lip as well as its uninjured mate, having to stop yourself from habitually rubbing them together. 
This is all Bucky’s fault.
Last night had been a normal outing, no different from any other you’ve shared among your small group of friends. Music pumped from speakers, alcohol flowed from an array of bottles and cocktails, fun and laughter filled the evening. Normal, that is, until Bucky backed you into a dark corner of the bar and kissed you harder and more fiercely than any man or woman ever has.
It wasn’t the kiss that surprised you so much as the kisser. Admittedly, Bucky is a good-looking guy and sure you’ve had less-than-appropriate thoughts about him a time or two, but it’s not as if you’ve ever had a truly serious interest in him beyond what some might consider a crush. Not that it matters much. Although you consider him a friend, Bucky is rather reserved and — prior to last night — you’d have bet any amount of money that he’s certainly never had a second thought about you. 
And yet, the ghost of his warm lips devouring yours still haunts your mouth. The way he’d cradled your head and caressed your tongue with his own has you feeling light-headed even after all these hours. Bucky licked and sucked hungrily at you, at one point seeming to grow so overwhelmed with an untamed need that he’d nipped rather harshly at your mouth and left you with a memento of your shared moment of passion.
You shake your head and flip off the bathroom lights before heading back to your bedroom. Stripping down, you throw on a comfortable outfit to sleep in and climb under the covers. With your head burrowed comfortably deep in your pillows, you shut your eyes and beg your brain to stop replaying the memory of last night on a loop. You have to stop thinking about Bucky. And about Bucky’s lips. And about kissing Bucky. 
But you can’t.
Your eyes flick open, hardly able to see anything in the darkness of your room and you sigh. You huff and flop onto your side, hoping the change of position will usher you off to sleep faster. The niggling thoughts pervade. You still can’t believe he kissed you like that. Ignoring the pinch of pain you feel, your tongue sweeps repeatedly over your bruised lip and you swear you can still taste Bucky there. 
In all honesty, you want to simply blame it on the alcohol or the heated tension you’d created on the dancefloor together just so you won’t have to admit that your broody, handsome friend might actually be attracted to you. Hell, you’d blame it on something as trivial as the full moon if it means you can avoid having to think about what last night’s kiss might mean for your meager friendship. Is it too much to hope that Bucky had been overly inebriated and forgotten about it altogether? 
As if able to hear you thinking about him, the once silent phone sitting on your dresser lights up and vibrates. Propped up on one elbow, you can just barely make out Bucky’s name popping up with a succinct ping. You stare at the screen for a long moment, hoping that if you don’t look at his text, it will somehow go away. It doesn’t. In fact, an accompanying message joins the first and your curiosity finally forces you to reach for the device. 
Bucky: Tried to order a shot at the bar and they’re all out of tequila. I think we did serious damage last night
You smirk and release a quick snort of laughter at Bucky’s text, all the while wondering how in the world he’s managing to go out drinking after last night. It’s been an entire day and you’re still feeling the effects of your overindulgence, your head evidently doing its best impression of a balloon full of concrete. Before you can respond, the screen indicates that Bucky is typing something else. 
Bucky: Sorry about kissing you by the way. We have to be as awkward as possible around each other now FYI
So much for forgetting. Sensing Bucky’s attempt to make light of the strange situation while also trying to suss out how you’re feeling about it, you decide to take it easy on him. You have no hard feelings about the kiss and you’d hate for him to feel badly over something so trivial. 
Sitting all the way up, you switch on the bedside lamp and open the camera app while you bring your phone close to your face. You open your mouth slightly so the aftermath of Bucky’s kiss is more visible, take a photo, then send it his way with a sarcastic text about how he should be sorry for how he’s maimed and massacred you. 
It doesn’t even occur to you how the thoughtlessly snapped picture might be misinterpreted. There had been no purposeful intention in the sensual way your lips were parted, nor had you meant to capture your cleavage in the image. You’d simply sent the picture as a joke and locked your phone, but seconds later — even before you’ve managed to set the device back down — Bucky’s number and the goofy group picture you have saved as his contact photo are lighting up your screen. The phone vibrates steadily in your hand as you stare in surprise. 
If you’d been sitting in the downtown bar with him, you would have watched as the content smile that accompanied the sight of your incoming message had been promptly swept away as Bucky’s eyes scanned what you’d actually sent. You would have seen the way he snatched his jacket off the barstool and how his hand nearly shattered the glass of his phone’s screen when he jabbed your contact with unnecessary force. You would have witnessed him lifting the phone to his ear, grinding his teeth as the dial tone droned while he strode through the thinning crowd and out the bar’s exit to the crowded street.
“Hello?” you drawl hesitantly upon answering the call.
You receive no greeting in return, only a terse demand.
“Send me your address.”
“What? Why?” you wonder, sitting up straighter in your bed at the serious sound of Bucky’s voice. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong is you sending me that picture,” he retorts as if it is obvious.
“Bucky, what are you talking about?” you laugh nervously. “It was just a joke.”
“I’m not joking,” Bucky assures you seriously. “Send me the damn address.”
You repeat his name again with another uneasy scoff as you try to process his unexpected adamance. Heat blooms all across your body and you begin to chew nervously on your fingernail as you struggle to come up with a reason for him not to come over. There’s no way this man is going to show up on your doorstep.
“Listen, I’m…I’m already in bed in my pajamas,” you offer lamely. “I’m not exactly in any state to receive company and…and…I haven’t cleaned in days! I was just kidding, Buck…you don’t need to—.”
“Don’t,” he warns. “Don’t you dare.”
The argument sounds rather lacking even to your own ears. In actuality, you don’t care how you look or how your place looks if Bucky does come over. What you care about is what will happen if he does; specifically, what’s going to happen to you. But there’s no way this man is going to show up on your doorstep.
“I’m going to hang up the phone and get a cab,” Bucky informs you impatiently. “By the time I do, I better have your address.”
Before you even have a chance to plead your case, the line goes dead. Pulling the phone away from your ear, you stare indecisively at the chat which remains open on the screen. The easiest solution would be to put the damn thing down, roll over, and go to sleep. But the cursor that flashes in the textbox taunts you, calling to you like a beacon. You’re suddenly feeling uncharacteristically weak. 
Your fingers move of their own volition, punching in the appropriate information before you toss your phone to the end of the bed and flop backwards with a closed-mouth scream. This man is going to show up on your doorstep. 
There’s something paradoxical to the notion that you aren’t close enough friends for Bucky to know where you live, yet he’s about to show up here to…well, you aren’t quite sure what he’s showing up for. His demand to know your address was alarming — if not somewhat enticing — and you allow your imagination to take over for a moment.
With damp palms dragging down your suddenly overheated face, your mind races and you begin to question your sanity. It would have been so easy to ignore Bucky’s demand and just go to sleep. You’d probably be saving yourself a lot of trouble. But deep down, you have to admit that this is something you’ve been secretly wanting since the very first day you met Bucky. However, that particular thought exists miles down a road you’re not quite ready to travel along.
By the time the resounding knock comes, you’ve paced about a mile and a half back and forth through your bedroom. Your heart is pounding and you’re practically shaking right out of the clothes you wear. A thick hoodie and a pair of loose cotton shorts hang off your vibrating frame, only because you decided wearing your sexy pajama set would seem a bit too presumptuous…perhaps even desperate. And it had definitely felt that way when you put them on earlier. 
Maybe you should change back. Maybe you shouldn’t care so much. The echoing knock is firmer this time and doesn’t give you time to think about it any longer. Because this man actually showed up on your doorstep.
You’ve hardly cracked the door open an inch and Bucky is already inside and shedding his leather jacket from his broad shoulders. He closes in on you until you’re forced to take several unsteady steps backwards into the dark, narrow hall. His hungry eyes look you up and down, sizing you up like a lion would its kill.
“What exactly are you doing here?”
Although you try to infuse some sort of playful, casual laughter into the question, the uncertain quiver of your voice gives you away. As does the way your eyes dart around, refusing to meet Bucky’s. He notes the anxious rubbing of your palms against your thighs and takes a slow step closer to you. 
Standing frozen before him, you gasp when he takes hold of your elbow and promptly marches you towards your bedroom. By the time you’ve turned around to face him, Bucky has already pulled his shirt up and over his head, the defined muscles of his torso rippling and on full display as he does so. Your mouth is dry and your brain is fuzzy.
“You changed,” he notes nonchalantly before gesturing at your outfit. “You’re gonna wanna take that off.”
Bucky utters the order so confidently and with no preamble that it nearly knocks you off balance. You know what’s happening, your brain just doesn’t seem to believe it. And so you stand stock-still, incapable of much more than staring. It isn’t until Bucky growls in frustration — clearly believing that you’re being coy or perhaps just stubborn — that you find your voice.
“You still haven’t said why you’re here.”
“Because…” he begins impatiently as he toes off his boots and kicks them aside. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about last night. And now…seeing how good I look on you is driving me crazy and making me wanna mark you all over.”
The admission is jarring. Almost as much as the cracking sound that shatters the silence in the room when Bucky unbuckles his belt and whips it free of his pants with one smooth movement. You choose to ignore his unashamed desire and opt to address the less detrimental part of his confession.
“Buck, c’mon,” you choke, somehow feeling even warmer. “It was just a kiss.”
“So?”
Your eyes meet his then, not sure how to respond to his unexpected challenge. The heat you find there nearly scorches you. You’re suddenly at a loss for an excuse that seems adequate enough to turn down the prowling man. Especially when you know you want this as much as he does, if not more. Still, you try.
“We were drunk,” you offer weakly.
It sounds like a question even to you and when Bucky quirks a dark brow, you know your reason has fallen flat. He regards you for a long moment, unbuttoning his jeans and revealing a trail of hair which dips below the illegibly branded waistband of his underwear.
“I wasn’t that drunk,” he assures, hair mussed and nostrils flaring. “Now, like I said…take that off.”
“Take…what off?” you mumble distantly.
You’re too distracted by the plethora of smooth, tanned skin to pay attention; too beguiled by the sight of his half-naked body and all that it promises to continue thinking. Bucky points a long finger in your direction, swirling it mid-air to specify that he’s referring to your baggy hoodie and rumpled shorts.
“All of it,” he barks. “Off.”
Ultimately, you obey Bucky’s request and though your limbs move as if filled with sand, they manage to shed your hoodie and shorts just the same. You’re left standing bare-chested in nothing but a pair of underwear that do very little to shield you from the lascivious perusal of Bucky’s hungry eyes. He mirrors your state, now standing before you statuesque and gorgeous in nothing but a pair of tight-fitting boxer briefs when he finally answers your earlier question. 
“I’m here to finish what I started.”
He breathes the words, his lips so close to your own that you can almost taste him. With barely an inch between you, Bucky’s eyes flicks to yours, silently asking permission. He shows no intention of closing the space between you, instead waiting for you to make that decision. You do so without hesitation and crash your lips into his with a sigh of relief at the familiar feeling of his mouth on yours.
In a flash, Bucky tears away and has you hauled into his arms to toss you easily into the middle of your soft mattress. You’ve barely stopped bouncing when Bucky’s strong body is braced above you. His hips settle perfectly in the space between your thighs; you can feel the heat of him there and the sensation is dizzying. Holding his weight on one hand, Bucky slips the other in the miniscule space between your torsos and hooks a finger along the elastic band of your panties. He tugs playfully at the material before letting it snap sharply against your hip.
“I did say all of it, didn’t I?” he taunts with a wry smirk.
“I didn’t have time,” you argue with a giggle that stops short when he allows his hips to drop so that you feel his hardness directly against your center. “I’m sorry.”
He hums against your skin as his lips trail from your jaw to your ear where he licks the sensitive lobe and nips gently at your skin.
“Shh…don’t worry,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. We can leave them on because if you take ‘em off right now, I am going to fuck the shit out of you.”
You’re uncertain whether the words are a promise or a threat, even more unsure which you’d prefer. With a pathetic whimper that curls warmly into Bucky’s ear, you feel his heavy cock twitch against your crotch. His lips latch hastily to the side of your neck and he suckles.
“Please, Bucky,” you mewl, wanting him to deliver on his threat. 
Threat…promise…you don’t care what it was, just so long as he follows through. To your dismay, Bucky puts a swift end to your hopefulness.
“No no no, baby…don’t beg,” Bucky coos almost cruelly. “You’re not getting fucked tonight.”
He punctuates the lowly-spoken words with a pointed thrust of his hips, grinding firmly against your core and beginning to feel the dampness of your sodden panties through his own underwear. You gasp then, sharp and sudden — the sound only partially prompted by the pleasurable sensation he imparts upon you. It is the widening of your eyes that belies the other cause for the breathy noise: Bucky’s unexpected denial. The complete turnaround has you reeling. If he notices your disapproving reaction, he gives no indication and instead continues his inauspicious words.
“I’m gonna make you ache the way I’ve ached for you. Gonna make you go crazy wanting me,” he breathes, interspersing thrusts every so often between the syllables. “Make you so desperate that you’ll do anything just for a little taste.”
Bucky hisses the last word and you flinch just as the rigid head of his length brushes your swollen clit through the thin layers of material separating you. Even without touching you beyond this, he has you near tears and yearning. He watches the pathetic tilt of your hips and the pitiful way your face crumbles, in awe over the way your muscles quiver and your body moves restlessly beneath him. You haven’t even seen a fraction of what he has planned for you and already you’re falling apart; the very notion has him clenching his jaw as his cock hardens painfully.
“Buck. Please.”
You whine — breathless and high — though Bucky continues as if you haven’t said a word.
“I’m gonna take you right to the edge,” he cups your ass, lifting and grinding your hips into his with a dramatic pause, “and then…stop.”
Before you have a chance to lament Bucky’s refusal to give you what he’s made you want, his strong hands grip your bent knees to gather your legs and arrange them over one shoulder so that the backs of your thighs settle along the hard ridges of his abdomen. With your legs pressed firmly together, Bucky reaches down to take himself in hand. He inhales through his teeth, allowing a few indulgent strokes of his throbbing cock before he aligns the glistening tip between the soft flesh of your thighs.
A groan forms deep in his belly, bubbling up until it fights its way out when his lips part instinctively. You watch, trancelike, as Bucky glides his dick rhythmically between your legs. In and out, over and over. Sweat gathers where your skin meets and Bucky’s grip on you tightens as fucks your thighs, taking a smug sort of pleasure in his endeavor to continue denying you.
As his thrusts increase in speed and the veins in his thick neck begin to protrude, you hope Bucky is suitably distracted and dare to lift your hips in search of some much needed friction. Bucky’s reaction is swift, immediate, and infuriating. He presses his weight forward, shoving you back into the mattress and effectively pinning you in place just as a strangled sound pours from him. 
Without warning, his hips jolt forward and his body tenses before becoming still. A wet warmth splashes against your belly and Bucky lets out a rush of breath while his body convulses and another rope of cum rains down on you. 
Bucky finally allows your legs to fall to the side, each one bracketing his corded legs where he still kneels above you as he allows his orgasm to wash over him. The fog lifts for you before it does for him and with the dawning realization, your desperation ratchets up a notch. Feral for some sort of release, you thrash with need and whimper with embarrassing anguish. Your body vibrates with the tension that blazes through your veins and you reach for Bucky, fingernails grabbing and clawing at his hairy thighs while you beg and plead for him to take you, touch you, anything.
Bucky had come here tonight with every intention of teasing and torturing you — a sort of retaliation for the yearning he’s felt for you — but seeing you like this is pushing him dangerously close to giving in. To fucking you the way you both want him to. However, he vowed not to fuck you tonight and he’s a man of his word. Still, he’s willing to show a little mercy. 
With a huff and a quick sweep of his hand through his hair, Bucky is shushing you. He shifts his weight and slides down until his striking face hovers just above your pelvis. From here, he can smell you and the faint aroma has his mouth watering in a way he thinks he ought to be ashamed of. He drags his fingers through the pearlescent splatters that dot your stomach while his other hand eases your panties to the side before he brings the slickened digits to your folds. Warm breath puffs against you when he whispers.
“I said I wouldn’t fuck you, I never said I wouldn’t make you cum,” he concedes with a dastardly grin.
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Sebastian Stan Masterlist ✦ Writing Masterpost
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venuslut · 4 months
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FANTASIZING ABOUT a whiny Choso Kamo ♡︎.
He’s whiny because it the first time he’s ever felt the euphoric sensation of his cock sliding deliciously across your warm gummy walls as you rode him. Bouncing slowly on his cock and grinding your clit on his pelvis whenever you came down. You leaned your body back while holding his thighs for support, and gave him a full view of what you were doing to him, watching as he disappears into your cunt, and the way a small bulge forms on your lower stomach from having to accommodate him inside you.
His face contorted with pleasure and quiet moans escape his lips. He grips the sheets instead of holding your hips, knowing that he’d hurt you if he held you, and that was the last thing Choso ever wanted. He’d be plagued with guilt if he hurt the first person to introduce him to such pleasures and he cared for. “Y-Y/n, fuck… ‘t’s so good,” he moaned and he threw his head back with a whine when he felt you clench around him. It wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that his sounds were exciting you, even if he didn’t intend for it too, but he’s glad he can please you in some way.
No matter how much Choso wants you to speed up, he won’t say a word in fear of being too demanding or needy. You find him so cute too, watch him whimper and bite his lower lip while your wetness coated his shaft, making every inch of your joined bodies slick and slippery. His flushed face was scrunched up as he screwed his eyes shut, caught up in the moment and feeling himself become fully immersed, the only thing he’s aware of is the way you squeeze around him. “fuck— I can’t... ‘m not gonna last,” he whined, upset that he was close already.
Unable to handle it any longer, Choso sat up from lying on his back and grabbed your hips with shaky hands. He peppered sweet kisses along your jawline and down to your neck before burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Dove, little bird, let me— fuck… can I fuck you? Please, i’ll make it quick babe, just... ngh! let me use you.” And the minute you give him permission, he’s rutting into you like an animal. Setting a relentless and sloppy rhythm that was designed to bring him closer to the edge. His moans grew louder at the new pace and his fingers dug into your skin, but trying to be mindful of your frail body. They were like music to your ears and you had a sudden desire to make him moan more, to make him come undone from your cunt alone. Choso's grip on your hips tightened even more as he felt an unfamiliar tingle building in his body, but he knew it wassignaling his own impending release, learning for your ‘private’ lessons. His hips picked up speed, thrusting into her pussy like a possessed man.
“Are you going to cum? Going to cum inside of my pussy?” You pant, your breath warm against his ear as your hands explored the expanse of his chest. "That's it, baby," you grunted, your voice deep and thick with pleasure. "Give yourself to me." His head was spinning from your brazen words and a pathetic whimper escaped his lips. With one final thrust, Choso felt his release wash over him. He grunted, his body tensing as he emptied himself into you, his cum mingling with your wetness. The pleasure radiated through him, leaving him momentarily breathless and sated. It’s like he’s walking on clouds and he’s entered a whole new world, a world filled with of pleasure and happiness with endless possibilities. His vision goes black and all he can think about is how good it feels to push himself to the pinnacle of joy, and he doesn’t think he can ever give this up now that he’s got a taste for it.
But Choso doesn’t stop fucking you, adamant about helping you see the light just like he did. Even though he’s fucking himself into overestimation, all he cares about is making you finish. Thankfully, your orgasm wasn’t to far off after being filled with Choso’s seed. You grip his back and dig your nails into his skin, dragging down to leave angry scratches along the expanse of his back, making Choso groan in pain. Finally teetering off the edge and cumming on his cock, bucking your hips wildly from the intensity of the orgasm and cum drips out of you. A loud cry ripped from your throat.
When you come down from your high, both of you are left panting and sitting in silence as you stew in your orgasmic bliss. Choso came up from your neck, opting to gaze at you. He held your hair back, exposing your flushed face to his view, your eyes glazed over with pleasure. The sight of your beautiful features contorted by pleasure was almost too much for him to bear. As your body trembled against him, Choso felt himself become hard again, ready to go and experience that state of bliss for another time. You whined when you felt him harden inside of you, reawakening your own desires again. Choso pouted cutely, kneading one of your breasts between his fingers, kissing the base of your throat, and rolling his hips to provide friction.
“Again… make me cum again please, dove. Can’t get enough of your pussy.”
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buckyalpine · 5 months
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Imagine Mob Bucky with his sweet little Bambi. She’s such a shy sweet thing and even though he’s had her countless times, naked and crying on his cock. She still hesitates to touch his most private places and can’t help the way her face heats up with just one look of those blue eyes.
“But-but they’ll hear” she whispers with wide eyes, her hands shaking as he guides her to wrap around his thick cock. Bucky’s thighs were spread wide apart, his slacks pulled down while he guided her under his desk.
“What will they hear pretty baby” he raised a brow while she shifted on the ground, still on her knees. “Are you shy baby? Shy they’ll hear how good you suck me? How slutty and soppy this pretty little mouth gets? Or are you scared they’ll hear what a whore you sound like when you’re stretched open around my cock, which is it”
You whimpered, knowing Bucky’s right hand man was stationed right out side of his office, his best friend of all people guarding the doors of his boss.
“Are you worried Stevie will hear you baby?” Bucky cooed, gentle holding the back of your head, pulling you to his dripping head. “He won’t hear a thing as long as you’re quiet Bambi”
He hissed feeling your soft tongue hesitantly swipe across his silky pink tip, lapping and suckling like a needy kitten as soon as you got a taste.
“Such a good girl for me” he groaned, cupping your cheeks before pushing his hips forward, shoving his length down your throat, “taking all of daddy’s big dick down her throat huh”
He smirks at the way you claw at his thighs while your legs squeeze together, his poor needy princess trying to give herself some relief.
“Bambi, what is it honey, why are you squirming so much”
You shake your head with your mouth full, too innocent to ask for what you want. Which is exactly why he sighs and picks you up off the floor and lays you on his desk, shoving your panties aside before you can protest.
“Daddy, no-daddy!” You slap your hand over your mouth as he stuffs his cock into your pussy, setting in a brutal pace without warming you up first. He grabs your hand away from your mouth, pinning your hand against the solid wood desk with a feral look on his face.
He knows his men are outside, he knows how some of them look at you. Hell, he even knows how Steve looks at you. Bucky wasn’t about to share but he’d give them a glimpse of how lucky he was, moving his hand to wrap around your throat while fucking your brains out.
“Fuckin’ scream! Scream, let them know how much you love my cock!”
“I-I-love I-it!!” You wailed, no longer able to contain your voice, taking every thrust he gave you. “I love it daddy, I love it!!”
“Yeah I bet you do, bet you love knowing my guys can hear you. Bet you love knowing they all stroke their dicks thinking’ bout you huh? Even Stevie’s probably got his hand down his pants thinking about your tight pussy and the sounds you’d make”
Your eyes nearly crossed, voice hoarse from the way you moaned, you’d back arching off the table.
“You act all innocent but you love when guys get all horny for you, don’t you baby. You loving knowing they cum cause they thought of you. Perverted fucks watching my girl, fucking probably jerking themselves right now. Now they’ll know what you sound like. Too bad it’s only my cock that makes you sound like this Bambi”
“Oh god daddy I-I” you slurred, squirting and gushing around his cock without warning, the shut alone making Bucky’s hips stutter.
“Lookit you squirting for me baby, god your a nasty little slut, so fuckin good for me, m gonna cum so fuckin hard for you princess. Gonna fill you up till the room smells of me marking you, you’re gonna walk out of here with my cum dripping between your legs”
Bucky moaned with his head thrown back, possessive over letting everyone know how he owned you.
“Let them all see all the places you let me shove my cock into. That you let daddy empty his cock rigt in your pussy-fuckkk!!”
With a guttural moan he stilled with his cock shoved in as far as it would go, cumming til the desk was a mess.
We don’t talk about how Steve came in his pants immediately after. We don’t talk about how he’s gonna touch himself again tonight. We don’t talk about how next time bucky might let him watch in person while Steve’s handcuffed with his perverted little dick out on full display, leaking and aching while you get railed by his best friend.
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tohokuu · 1 year
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jjk men zipping up your dress
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REBLOG MY WORK.
warnings : suggestive, light fluff, tension
a/n : something i did to my girl bestfriend the other day and it made me gay. also i didnt k is what to call this so… the name is misleading but 🧍🏽‍♀️
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GOJO
“satoruuuu, can you please help me?” you whines prettily. gojo straightened up, looking at you away from the netflix tv show that kept him occupied.
“yeah. what’s up, baby?” he asked. you came closer, tiny little crop to sticking to your skin while the material of your jeans hugged your hips a little too tightly.
“i think i got them a size too small, baby. they won’t fit and i don’t wanna wear any other jeans with this top.”
gojo motioned you forward, leaning over to work his thin, long fingers around the buttons of your jeans.
these weren’t regular jeans. they were the ones with four buttons as a replacement for your zipper.
your panties peaked from underneath, if they could be even called that. you wore your thong out of your jeans today, showing off the cute dior imprint on the sides.
“toru, hurry up. i’m getting late!” you whined. gojo ignored your protest, squeezing your ass closer to him to make it fit inside your jeans.
“babe, if it wasn’t for your ass, this would’ve gone in perfectly ya know?” you rolled your eyes. fingers slowly trailing into his white hair, you tugged lightly while he worked four buttons through each hole.
you leaned back, getting annoyed at how long he was taking. you swung your hips side to side, a small habit when you felt bored.
but you were knocked out of your gaze when gojo pulled you roughly by the belt loop. you heard a thread snap and you looked down in shock.
his blue cerulean eyes stared up at you, blown wide open with lust and dominance.
“stop. moving.” he repeated.
you listened to him. not moving another inch as he pulled you closer using a finger hooked around a belt hoop.
TOJI
“tojiiiii, can you get this for me?” you said as you went up to your boyfriend. you turned around, showing him the extremely backless dress you wore. he raised his eyebrow, smiling to himself.
“you goin’ somewhere, pretty?” he asked. you nodded your head.
“i’m going out with shoko and utahime.” you chirped.
“mmm, dressed like this? coulda thought you was out to fuck other guys.”
his comment left a sour taste in your mouth. pulling away, you looked at him sadly, lip a little wobbly because how could he think of you like that?
he smirked at your distressed expression.
“i’m only messin’ wit ya.” you crossed your arms over your chest, still mad.
but toji knew how to make it right. he grabbed each wrist, pulling your arms around his neck and lifting your chin up so you could look up at him.
“look at me, babygirl.” he spoke in his husky voice.
you looked up, eyebrows still furrowed.
“you’re so fuckin’ cute with that face, ya know that? thinkin’ that it’ll really make a difference at all.” he crooned.
“shut up, toji. it wasn’t funny.”
“i think it was, babydoll.” he leaned in to your neck, pressing soft kisses around the column of your neck, right below your ear. you found it difficult to not gasp, breathing a little heavier as you tried to push at his shoulders.
toji wrapped his hands around the silky thread that ran across the span of your back, tugging it tightly while pulling you against his chest.
you gasped.
“ ‘m not done yet, where you think you’re goin’?” the deep timbre of his voice made your thighs press together, trying to hold in a squeak.
you felt your dress stick to your body tighter and together until a small snap was heard and your dress was all good to go.
toji pulled away, raising an eyebrow at your now pushed up tits.
he flicked your forehead softly, walking away to go back to whatever he was doing.
SUKUNA
“kuna, how do you do this??” you asked.
you walked up to him, almost tripping in the cloth that pooled around you.
he looked down from his throne, brows squinting as he saw your tiny form in a haori that was much too large for you.
he sighed..
“why are you wearing my haori, you bumbling fool?”
you tilted your head, looking down at the cloth that was wrapped around you, engulfing you in linens and silks.
“what?” you chittered.
“what exactly are you trying to achieve, brat?” his voice low and venomous.
“i just wanted to look pretty in a kimono.” you cried.
“well, that isn’t a kimono, for starters.” he sighed, watching your eyes tear up a little at the little mistake you had made.
within seconds, he appeared before you, a deep red kimono in hand.
his calloused hands pulled down his haori, exposing your shoulders to him. you blushed now, feeling more than exposed.
“k-kuna, what are you doing?” you asked.
“shut up. i’m aiding you.”
you kept quiet, fidgeting around a little until he raised his eyebrow at you, silently telling you to stop moving.
the haori was long gone and your body was naked and bare before him. he didn’t dare touch you slyly, though. his hands only grazed where needed and his eyes never left the fabric, not daring to look at anything he wasn’t supposed to.
his hands pulled the kimono taught around you, fixing it around your shoulders and then taking the obi to wrap around.
“life your arms.”
you did as told, lifting your arms and making a T-pose.
he worked the obi around you neatly, finishing off with a small brush to your side and a step back to admire his work.
“you look… presentable.” as he cringed.
you knew he just meant that you looked beautiful.
GETO
your roommate was the only available help you currently had. it was an awkward situation you got yourself stuck into.
“hey uhh, geto, can you please uhh zip this up?” you asked meekly.
he got up quickly, coming around so you could see each other in the mirror. you moved your hair to the side so it wouldn’t get stuck in the zipper.
he inhaled sharply, staring at the tramp stamp at the end of your back. it was cute, he thought.
he pulled your body back roughly, “sorry, my bad.” he wasn’t sorry.
you nodded, letting him carry on with the annoying zipper that just wouldn’t go up. his cold hands touched your back, making you arch away from him.
“sorry.” once again, he was not sorry in the slightest.
his heavy fingers played with the zipper a bit, trying to even it out so it could move up and down smoothly. a part of him could feel in his chest that you did this on purpose.
you probably wanted him to lay his plush lips along the juncture of your neck, kissing the skin and marring it with reminders of him.
but he pushed those thoughts away, reaching all the way down to where the waistband of your panties were, playing around with the zipper until it finally came up.
“mmm, there you go.” he said, but not before giving you a look through the mirror that made you regret not grabbing and kissing him.
CHOSO
you decided to head to the beach with your boyfriend today. you were tired and figured you needed a day off before getting back to work.
you packed your skimpiest bikini that left little to the imagination and left for a two hour beach drive.
things would’ve gone smoothly until the elastic on your swimsuit snapped.
you rushed across the sand, running to your boyfriend.
“choso, choso, my swimsuit snapped!” you whisper shouted.
he got to work quickly, putting a hand on your waist to pull your back against him. something about how rushed his actions were did something to you. a fire brewed in your belly as you thought that other people could see how close he was standing next to you, more than half naked while your tits almost flew out of your swimsuit.
“mm, maybe i’ll have gojo rent a private beach for us.” choso hummed behind you.
“why’s that?” you asked.
“so i can fuck you completely naked on the beach, obviously.”
your face turned red. “choso!” you shouted. he chuckled behind you, bending down to kiss at your neck. he bit the skin lightly, nipping just enough for you to let a small moan out.
“mmm, you’re not ashamed that others could hear, princess?” you shook your head, knowing he’d find it cute if you tried to lie.
“i should just untie this thing and fuck you right here.”
NANAMI
you were excited to wear a ball gown today. it was the first ball you were attending as kento had been invited and you were his date.
he purchased a beautiful white gown with golden accents. “for you.” he had left it on your bed with a note asking you to come down once you were done getting ready.
but if only it were that easy to wear a ball gown…
the top was a corset and you honestly had no idea how to even wear a corset. you whined as your arms got tired and you gave up trying to put this damn thing on.
there was a knock at your door.
“y/n, what’s going on?”
it was nanami. you felt a little hot. your boobs and your back was nearly out and he was the only one who could help with this current dilemma of yours.
you shook the thoughts from your head, reaching forward to open the door to let him in.
he gasped.
“oh.”
he spoke. you cringed, letting yourself curl inwards. “do i truly look that bad?” you asked.
nanami shook his head. “not in the slightest, but darling what’s going on with the back of the dress?”
you sighed, “i don’t know how to wear a corset.”
he chuckled, walking behind you and facing you in the mirror.
there was something intimate about this moment.
he used his front to push you straight against the dressing table, your mouth letting out a gasp. he pushed you down by the shoulder, acting calm and collected while your panties gained an extra layer of wetness.
you watched him in the mirror as he wrapped his hands over and over the bands of the corset until he finally pulled back really tight.
you felt the wind knock out of your legs, but you weren’t sure for which reason.
was it the lack of rooms your lungs had or how tight you were against nanami’s back?
he chuckled, tying the strings at the bottom of your waist, pulling away with just a gentle kiss on your temple like he wasn’t just in perfect position to fuck you.
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REBLOG MY WORK.
taglist form.
©️ tohokuu. do not steal or plagiarize.
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luvindrr · 2 months
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Osamu feeds you when you don't eat
osamu miya x gn!reader | fluff | i'm going back to 505 words cw: reader doesn't have an apetite/doesn't eat much, samu is a lil insistent you eat a/n: this started as haji and godzilla turned samu and shrek. does shrek even bully peasants in the sequel
It’s kind of corny how much Osamu likes Shrek. He stores DVD copies of the entire franchise in the TV stand even though he hasn’t owned a DVD player since 2012. Once, Netflix removed the Shrek holiday special from their service- the one he never even watched- and his comedic fit of outrage had left him huddled on the ground, heartbroken. So it’s only natural that once again, you sit in front of the TV as the opening to, in his words, the unchallenged supreme reigning cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek 2 plays its soundtrack.
“Pause it!” yells Osamu from the kitchen.
“You know it by heart!”
“I know,” Osamu appears beside you, holding two bowls. “But I need the full experience.”
You take a moment to see what he’s made. Oyakodon- a warm, soupy broth of chicken and eggs served over white rice. It looks good, it really does, but you don’t have much of an appetite and you know you probably won’t eat it. Osamu places it in your hands anyway and you don’t have the heart to tell him no, not after he spent an hour in the kitchen for you. “Thank you, 'Samu.”
You’re halfway through the movie when Osamu lifts the bowl from your hands and shifts you into his lap. You don’t notice, not really, because Shrek is in the middle of abusing another peasant and it’s just so perfectly ridiculous you can’t help but be entranced. So you don’t think twice when Osamu whispers a soft open by your ear and you hardly process it when you swallow something down. He does it again and again and again, until you look up and Osamu’s smug, triumphant, holding up another spoonful.
“‘Samu!” You push against his chest and he falls back a little. “I can feed myself, you know.”
“Didn’t look like it.”
“I wasn’t hungry!”
“Ya ate half th’ bowl!”
“You tricked me! Those bites don’t count.”
Osamu laughs. It’s loud and happy and rings in the air- rings over even Shrek’s roars. He grins at you again. “Bite?”
You purse your lips. “No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re being annoying!”
He swirls the spoon in the air. “Here comes th’ airplane!”
“No, 'Samu!” You beat at him and bury your face into his chest. He laughs, and you hear the clink of porcelain on the coffee table before his arms wrap around you too.
“Ya just hadn’t eaten all day.” Softer this time.
“I know.”
“Need the protein to get big an’ strong!”
“Mhm.”
“So you’ll take another bite?”
You nuzzle further into him, hiding your face. “No.” Silence for a moment. “Maybe.”
Osamu smirks. “It’s really good, ya know.”
You sigh, releasing yourself from his chest. You reach for the spoon and let the rice fall onto your tongue. The chicken is tender, the eggs delicate, and the subtlety of scallions paired with the salty broth create a comforting taste in your mouth. “It is good, ‘Samu.” You mean it.
“I am an amazing chef.” It’s true.
“... Bite?”
masterlist
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euaphoric · 7 months
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🕸️ KINKTOBER - DAY 1. 🕸️
Show You What Devotion Is . . .
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[PAIRING] jungkook x f!reader
[GENRE] bf/gf, established relationship, pwp [WARNINGS] fluff, smut, small mentions of insecurities, body worship, devotion kink, face-sitting, biting, spit kink (sorta, kinda?)
summary: you don’t think you’re good enough for your boyfriend but he proves those thoughts wrong by showing just how much undying love he truly has for you.
wc -> 2.0k
A/N: first post of the month, 30 more to go woohoo~ so excited to do this and hopefully this’ll help me get a better idea of what i like/don’t like writing in the future. **fyi oc is told that she tastes like candy but obvi in the real world if ur hoo-ha tastes like candy that’s not normal .. o_O buttt this is fiction so just pretend they can sjdjfjsjjs.
kinktober m.list
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this day simply couldn’t get any worse. you missed the bus back home just by a fraction of a minute, all because you wanted to speak with your professor at his office hours but now in hindsight, you wished you never did. it was practically a waste of time anyway, he wasn’t giving much worthy feedback on your presentation and the anxiety about your final grade grew rampant as the semester progressed. ‘fuck, guess’ll wait for the next one in 15’ you mumble to yourself, annoyed and exhausted from earlier’s events. one side of you just wants to call jungkook to come pick you up but your other subconscious is telling you that’s selfish— don’t make him drive all the way here when you can just wait a measly 15 more minutes.
sigh~
it won’t kill you to wait, it’s not like you were in a rush to see him right now. it was actually quite the opposite, you weren’t prepared to tell him how you completely bombed your presentation. well, you wouldn’t say completely but it definitely wasn’t up to your impossibly high standards. public speaking was the only class you struggled with the most, you could articulate your words precisely in writing but saying it out loud? that was a totally different story. you have to outgrow this “fear” over speaking in front of an audience if you want to practice law one day. no one’s going to take you seriously if you can’t even read a single paragraph without tripping over syllables. all you could do was replay those embarrassing moments and internally cringe, almost missing the bus again from being so deep in thought— what a nightmare.
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“baaabyyyy!” the sweet sound of jungkook’s voice instantly made everything better, at least for now. his peachy soft lips went straight to your face almost immediately, smothering you with dozens of kisses while caging his beautiful, toned arms around your willowed frame. “you came home so late, was expectin’ you half an hour agooo.” he whines immaturely, holding you so tight he’s nearly squeezing you at this point. he must’ve really missed you. “i missed the bus… i wanted to talk with my professor about my presentation and thought i could make it but i guess not..” you pause, thinking if you should share what’s really crossing your mind, “…i was gonna call you to pick me up but didn’t think it was worth all that hassle.” now hearing yourself say that out loud makes it seem like he isn’t a reliable boyfriend, he very much is, it’s just the over-thinker in you. it’ll mark your 2 years of dating next week yet somehow you still felt like you were burdening him at times.
if the embodiment of ‘???’ was a person, that would be jungkook right about now; he couldn’t fathom you thinking such unlawful things. “hassle? what’re you talking about love, nothing is a hassle for me when it comes to you, absolutely nothing. next time you need me don’t hesitate to call babe,” he reassures sincerely. loosening his embrace momentarily to turn you around, he brings your chests together while his hands wrap your pretty waist, feeling his rapid heartbeat against yours. “i’m serious, you better call me next time.” the sternness of his voice alarming you that he’ll probably lecture you for this. he texts you hourly just to check in and make sure you’re okay, a simple drive to pick you up is the bare minimum to him. “well besides that.. how’d your presentation go?” jungkook’s doe-like eyes widen as he interrogates with questions. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” you silently mutter, already dreading what the final grades were going to be. “that bad, huh?” he proceeds with even more questions, “did you remember like we practiced last night?” you nod, lowering your head to stare at the floor, confidence dwindling by the second.
it truly hurts him to see you upset over something you’ve worked so passionately on, all just for it to feel ruined in the end. he hates that you’re not your usual bubbly and cute self, it makes him do everything he can to cheer you up. “it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it now, i get it. you probably did well though, i bet you messed up like one time and no one even noticed ‘cause you’re so pretty!” he teases, inked, slender digits trail up to find solace on your chin, lifting your head up to face each other again. “stop stressing over dumb little imperfections, it never ends well.” “oh, you’re one to talk!” you whine into his chest, unable to deal with his hypocrisy. not jungkook of all people giving you this speech when he is literally the #1 perfectionist king. “and i’m not even that pretty..” you quietly mumble, hoping he wouldn’t catch that. “wait, what did you just say?!” his voice raised an octave of confusion, you would think someone had just told him the most horrific story, but no, here he is on the verge of a mental breakdown over his girlfriend feeling insecure. “i said i’m not that—” “no no, i heard you the first time. my brain just isn’t registering the fact that you don’t think you’re anything less than a walking goddess of this earth.” he was flabbergasted to hear you talk with such low confidence, “sometimes, i feel like you can do so much better..” that’s what fully broke his heart as you spoke, it pained him to know you harbored all these feelings deep down inside.
the only answer in solving this dilemma is by being a better boyfriend to you, showering you with even more compliments than he already does daily, and most importantly, proving that he is 100% devoted to you and you only.
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eyes half-lidded in lust, limbs spasming and going numb from the continuous stimulation, you can’t do much but moan out jungkook’s name on an endless loop. the first hour, jungkook took his heavenly time with your delicate, angelic body. everything about you is divine to him, he wants to appreciate every single inch of you, even the parts you despise. he dedicated his lips to kissing and pleasuring your whole body, leaving no surface of you untouched. he’d rave in between kisses about how beautiful you are, how lucky he is and how he’s willing to do anything to make you happy. if being love-drunk was a disease, he’d rather fall into a coma and never wake up than find the cure. he’s living his best life as he cherishes your innate beauty, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs as he reaches them, taking ample time to caress and praise your dreamy body. he’s always had a thing for your cute plush thighs, the way they’d bounce and jiggle when he plays with them makes him all giddy inside. he can never get enough of them or you, leaving numerous bite marks and coating them with his spit, “you’re a work of art princess, a masterpiece. don’t think any different.” jungkook murmured against you, voice laced with pure seduction and infatuation.
body buzzing in anticipation as he kept working his way up, leaving a chaste peck to your left and right hip bone, firmly gripping your thighs as he drags his lips to your center. the urge to make out with your cunt was insatiable for him, he needed his face buried between your legs, there was no place he’d rather be. “after this you’re gonna use my face as your throne and m’gonna give you the most mind blowing orgasm, capeesh?” jungkook props his head up for a second before kissing below your belly button. “c-capeeshh.” you hazily reply, mind still fuzzy from just his kisses and touch alone. you know you’re in for a wild ride whenever you sit on your boyfriend’s face, he always eats you like a starved man and makes sure you cum multiple times, he takes such pride in himself for having you be a twitching and moaning mess by the end of it all. his only goal and mission for the night was to make you feel so good that you reach your climax hard enough to see memories of your life flash before your eyes. as he made his way up to your waist, you melt into his warmth, craving him more and more as time goes on. you thought you felt your soul leave your body when he unsuspectingly attaches his mouth to your nipple, babbling nothing coherent as you rut your hips into nothing.
as much as jungkook wanted to keep the teasing going, he was so down bad to have you sit on his face in this moment, ready to show exactly how much love and obsession he has for you. “need you so bad babe.. need to taste you,” he sighs, shamelessly gawking over you as he maneuvers you on top. “you’re so fuckin’ sexy mama... would love to be in between these pretty thighs for the rest of my life.” you couldn’t help but blush at his dirty talk, feeling flustered as you slide off your damp polka dot panties, watching as he licks his lips, planning to devour you whole. jungkook was so excited, you’re always scared of hurting him whenever you sit on his face but he reassures you often that he’ll be fine, “you’re not gonna kill me babe, trust me. even if you did i think it’d be sick to put ‘died from too much pussy juice’ on my gravestone anyway.” he lightly jokes, never taking anything in the slightest bit serious. you position your lower half, hovering over his face as he stares directly at your wetness. the tent in his boxers only surged, he was so hopelessly attracted to you, he could cum just from giving you head.
“fuuuu- oh my god so good, so good! yess, keep going babyy..” your legs shake violently as you rock your hips back and forth, rendering a steady motion against your boyfriend’s soothing tongue. as you throw your head back in pleasure and delight, jungkook grips onto your thighs for dear life, using every bit of manpower he possessed in making sure you don’t move away. “mmmhh~” he’d hum into your sensitive, eliciting the harmonious moans he loves to hear every night. you clutch onto the floral sheets of the bed, hand full of jet-black hair in the other. “mmm.. taste so sweet for me..” he grunts against your dripping core, “like candy..” a few more sloppy licks then he’s back to aggressively sucking your clit. you were grinding his face with more speed and didn’t care as much about hurting him anymore, if he really was uncomfortable he’d speak up. jungkook would never do that though, you are his goddess and he wants this night to be all about pleasing you. “uhhh, t-think m’gonna cum..” you felt that familiar knot in your tummy, hips subconsciously rutting faster into his mouth as eyes roll to the back of your head. you couldn’t tell much of his condition below you but his stamina never slowed, eating you out with everlasting hunger as his grip refuses to unravel. “cum for me princess, please.” his encouraging words help reach your high, feeling a whole new state of nirvana as your chest heaves, “fuck, jungkook, i love you!” you cry out, clenching around his tongue as he licks every crevice of you clean. the room spun around as you catch your breath, having trouble regaining your balance for a split second.
you droop down onto your heavy panting boyfriend’s chest, lightly sticking to his dewy skin from all the built up sweat. “sooo, how’re you feeling now compared to earlier? did it work? are all your insecurities vanished and gone now?” he’s back to his normal self again, asking his little series of questions. you giggle, “i feel great koo, definitely helped me relax..” flashing a warm smile as he reaches out for you to cuddle, “i must’ve done some life-changing shit in my past lives to deserve someone as good as you.”
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