#for thirsting over cars and co

[gimmeurtmi]

code name: brat? — lee know

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, dom/sub dynamic, good girl gone bratty, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, dom!minho, phone sex, edging, roleplay, reader is into minho wearing the police uniform, light choking, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, overstimulation a bit, angsty, use of "good girl", "brat", "sir", some light degradation, praising, lmk if i forgot any!

inspo: the making of case 143, 11:48. and just.. minho in that outfit.

notes: i got soooo carried away with this. it's also completely self indulgent lmao but yeah. also--cops are not attractive to me, lee minho is. thanks.

{ wc: 7531 }

it was normal for you to text your boyfriend throughout the day—his work and yours meaning it was only rare you got to spend most of the day together. so the pair of you usually told the other what you were getting up to via text and pictures, to feel closer to each other.

however, it was less normal for you to react so… physically to one of his completely normal texts.

you were having lunch with your friends, a small buzz from your phone pulling you away from the conversation momentarily.

bunny<3: this outfit is stupid but at least it’s one of the comfiest ones we have this shoot

and attached below was a picture of him dressed as a police officer. he took it in front of a mirror, so you could clearly see exactly how the outfit looked on him.

in your opinion, it was anything but stupid. the tan coloured trousers sat beautifully around his thighs, even if they were baggy, but your eyes immediately went to the thick chain around his neck and the inappropriate thoughts it provoked into your brain.

you: don’t look stupid at all. how’s the shoot going?

bunny<3: smooth so far. you think it looks alright?

you: yeah nice

you replied, trying your best to show some decorum. you didn’t want to thirst over your boyfriend to his face; he would never let you hear the end of it.

you got back to your conversation, adding your opinion on your friend’s enormous crush on their co-worker, but then your phone buzzed again.

you opened up another message from your boyfriend, a second picture attached.

it was a picture of his lap, his thighs spread over a leather seat, you guessed he was sitting in a car, and in front of his lap was his hand holding a pink heart. it had a face on it, and you recognised it as a new visual concept of their comeback.

bunny<3: i took pipi hostage

you: oh is that his name?

you: what are your terms of releasing the poor fluffy thing?

you: also why are you in a car i thought it was a long shoot today

bunny<3: give me a kiss and i’ll release him

bunny<3: i am in a car for work purposes

and attached was a picture of minho leaning against a police car, changbin in the background wearing a similar outfit. he didn’t look nearly as good as minho.

he had his hands stuffed into his pockets, accentuating his thighs as well as his forearms.

you almost felt the need to grab his biceps tightly like you did in much more intimate settings.

then, for no reason other than to torment yourself, you swiped back to the previous picture he sent, spending a precious amount of time taking in the way his lap looked so inviting, the way his fingers wrapped around the pink plush, the way you wished his fingers were on you, or in you, at that very exact moment.

you: oh my god

is the best you could reply with, quickly locking your phone to focus on the conversation around you. you had no idea what your friends were talking about.

bunny<3: ?

you: you just look very nice

bunny<3: thanks.

you: are you gonna be wearing that outfit often?

bunny<3: probably. why?

you took in a big breathe, daring yourself to be bold, and quickly typed out the following message.

you: we need to find a time for you to fuck me in that outfit.

you shoved your phone in your pocket straight after.

it was only after you ordered dessert, some forty minutes later, that he replied.

bunny<3: are you serious?

you: haha of course not :)

bunny<3: if you are, be honest

you: yeah, serious

bunny<3: why?? does the outfit turn you on?

you: why am i being honest if you’re judging me???

bunny<3: i’m not judging you baby i just don’t understand

you: maybe i’m imagining some cheesy porn storyline

bunny<3: fucking your way out of a ticket?

you: oh god yeah

bunny<3: my good girl imagining herself getting in trouble..?

bunny<3: so not like you

you: but that outfit, min… you look so so good in it

bunny<3: you’re never bratty though

you: who said i’d be bratty? if i got in trouble i’d be so so good just to get out of it

bunny<3: so you’d still be good for me?

you: always <3

bunny<3: i gotta get back to work my love. but don’t stop yourself from sharing some more of these wonderful thoughts

bunny<3: i love when your mind comes up with dirty shit

at that you pulled your phone away, smiling to yourself, and earning a comment about how whipped you were. you rolled your eyes bashfully. they were not wrong.

after getting through your day you were back home, under your warm blanket. the cats were playing away in the other room, as was evident by the meows echoing through the walls of your otherwise empty flat. minho still wasn’t home, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t find other ways to entertain yourself.

you still had the pictures he sent you after all.

you let your imagination wander, thinking about what his outfit was doing to you—and feeling it, too. your body was on fire as you touched yourself, imagining it was him instead with the tight black shirt on. imagining you were pulling him closer by his big black vest.

you decided it was wrong of you to be selfish.

you: thinking of riding you in the back of that police car while you wait to bring me into the station

you didn’t get an answer, and you doubt you would anytime soon. to make it just a little more interesting, though, you snapped a picture of your lap—your hand disappearing into your underwear.

bunny<3: i don’t quite remember telling you you could touch

you: oh, didn’t realise it was against the law to make myself cum while my boyfriend is too busy to do it for me

bunny<3: think of your next words carefully.

bunny<3: are you still touching?

you knew that was his way of telling you to stop, but really, it just made you go faster. there was something incredibly exciting about not listening to him for once. about breaking the rules.

you: yes. it feels so good, too. rubbing my clit thinking about you and your gorgeous hands..

you: bet you look soooo good dancing in that outfit too.

as if he knew you’d say that, a video came through next—of minho and his dance partners, felix and hyunjin, practicing their choreography while the crew were moving a few props in the background.

minho was counting them down, and you barely even realised there were two other people dancing in the video next to him. your eyes were glued to him, to his body, to his intense stare as he moved in perfect sync with his partners. the chain around his neck bounced a bit as he moved. and god, his hair was so beautiful in this new style.

you wanted to pull on it as he buried himself inside you.

you: fuck when are you coming home

bunny<3: not until wednesday baby, don’t you remember?

bunny<3: we’re staying in a hotel close to the location

you: oh goddd you should’ve told me that before i made myself all horny for you :(

bunny<3: play stupid games win stupid prizes

you: can i cum before you get back?

bunny<3: so now you’re asking for permission?

you could almost see the raise of his brows in front of you.

bunny<3: i don’t care what you do

you: …what

next came a voice recording.

“hey, jagi. you know you can always do what you want,” he said sweetly, his voice low as he spoke close to the phone, “but we can play this game? i didn’t mean that to come off rude, i’m just trying to understand what part of this police thing you like,” he giggled softly. “also, i miss your face. can we talk about this over facetime in like twenty minutes?”

“yeah, of course,” you recorded back, “i need to make some food anyway.”

after you cleaned yourself up and started getting a few things ready for dinner, your phone rang with an incoming facetime call from your boyfriend.

“heeeey,” he smiled widely, taking in your features as you placed the phone next to the stove.

“hey,” you smiled, and the pair of you started telling each other all about your days and what you got up to in the time between your texts.

“so..” he said, taking a moment to look around himself and make sure he was indeed alone. “tell me more about your weird kink, then.”

you could feel yourself blushing slightly, but it was only minho, so you couldn’t really be that embarrassed in front of him.

“stop judging me,” the pair of you laughed, “i just think you look good in it.”

“so it’s just the outfit?” he tried to confirm, “or do you want me to lean in it?”

“lean into it like how?”

“like…” he trailed off, taking a moment to lick his lips as he smirked at you, “if you don’t want to spend the night in jail you should give me what i want.”

“you’re a pervert,” you giggled at him.

at that, minho raised his eyebrows at you—thinking the only conclusion that made sense was that you were the pervert, actually.

“so what are you eating then?” he changed the subject gracefully, focusing instead on your movements around the kitchen. you were making the only dish you knew how to—minho was better at cooking than you—and while he suggested a few things to add you almost forgot about the Thing you two were talking about earlier.

it wasn’t until you put your dishes away and cleaned after yourself that he brought it up again.

“if i do steal this outfit,” he started, “you have to make it worth my efforts.”

“is that a threat, min?”

“it can be,” he smirked. “think we can break your record if i steal it?”

the record, of course, was referring to the night your boyfriend made you cum five times in a row before you had to push him off—and ever since that achievement, he’s been trying to find ways to get all the way up to a sixth.

you hummed a little, unconsciously bringing your finger up to your lips.

“maybe,” you said softly.

“it might be easier for us if you behave while i’m gone,”

“i always behave, min,” you chuckled.

“you weren’t earlier when you sent me that picture,” he reminded you with a firm gaze.

“so, basically, you’re asking me not to touch myself until you get back in three days?”

“if you’re even capable of that,” he teased.

“shut up,” you said, the urge to kiss him through the screen overwhelming you slightly. but that was an urge you were quite used to with the kind of schedule he had.

“so, okay?” he asked, softly, to confirm you indeed wanted to play whatever game the two of you were about to get into.

“sure. i mean, you know i’ll tell you if i don’t want to,” you smiled.

he smiled back, so softly, his eyes swimming with what could only be described as adoration.

“of course. i just like checking you’re all good, jagi.”

“i know.” you couldn’t bring the smile off your face, and the pair of you concluded your hour long chat as you crawled back into your shared bed.

“goodnight, my love,” he said softly, as he nuzzled into his pillow—mirroring you.

“goodnight. have fun shooting tomorrow!”

you did your best to behave. you always did with minho, that’s the kind of effect he had on you, but the more you thought about it—the more you wanted to be bad. to break his rules and see just how he’d punish you. you didn’t often defy him and his requests, so punishments were so rare from him. it was part of being so obedient that you liked, but something just made you restless with the thought of not listening.

so the next time minho facetimed you, you decided to be bold.

“hey!” he said with a smile, his makeup from the shoot still on. he must’ve called you as soon as he got back to his room.

you didn’t say anything back, instead, you reversed the camera and showed him your lap again.

“baby, you’re not on front facing,” he pouted, oh so cutely. but you knew he’d change his attitude in three seconds.

you spread your legs in front of him, his eyebrows frowning at you curiously as he watched. you decided this was the best idea ever as you had his face right in front of you, seeing his reaction, while all he could see was the hand on your crotch.

“jagiya?” he tried, but all you did in response was sink a finger into your heat. you let out a soft moan, one you knew he could hear with how close the microphone was to your face.

“oh my god, what are you doing?”

so you added another finger.

“baby, this is the opposite of what i told you to do,” he said firmly, so you moved your fingers quickly—making sure to capture the scene as best you could.

he was enjoying the show, you could tell by the way he was biting his lip as he looked on mesmerised by your movements.

“not gonna be a brat, my ass,” he mumbled with a smirk.

“turn your camera around, now.” his tone was so firm, the obedient side of you couldn’t ignore it, so you quickly sat up and followed his order.

“what the fuck was that?”

“what?” you faked innocence.

“i leave you alone for two days and you’re a needy brat now?” you tried so hard not to smirk. “can you answer me?”

“i was just having fun,” you shrugged.

“you know you don’t have fun without me,” he said, the cockiness in his voice making you clench around your fingers. “besides, jagi, i told you not to.”

“and i decided i don’t care what you said,” you said, simply.

minho’s eyebrows shot right up to his hair. you have never spoken back to him like that before.

“what the fuck,” he mumbled.

an immense sense of pride took over you as you left the lee minho speechless. but it was short lived.

“so you’re trying to get in trouble now,” you nodded with a smirk, “get that bratty smile off your face.”

you giggled, pulling your fingers out slowly. a small gasp followed your actions, minho clearly knowing what you just did—and before he could praise you for listening, you dipped your fingers into your mouth and sucked the wetness off them.

“if only you could taste how wet i am, min.”

he brought a hand to his hair, pulling on the dark blue strands. minho had no idea where this was coming from, and the shock on his face made it all so much better. so much more exciting.

“okay,” he said, somewhat calm, “are you done, did you get it out your system?”

“maybe,” you said.

“can you go back to listening to me?”

“not if you’re gonna be all boring and tell me i can’t do what i want,” you pouted.

“and what do you want to do, brat?” he never called you that—he only ever praised you. but you liked this name just as much.

“i wanna edge,” you sighed.

“what?” he laughed, “why the fuck do you think i’m gonna let you do that now, after your little show?”

“well, because i didn’t ask you. i just answered your question.”

“oh my god,” minho let you out. you could tell how much this was frustrating him, how much this was getting under his skin. and you loved it.

he took a moment to compose himself, licking over his lips before he smirked. it was the kind of smirk that made you think you were definitely gonna lose this round, but you promised yourself you’d be strong.

“you know you’re only doing this because i’m not there. you’d be on your knees in seconds if i was in front of you. it’s cute that you’re being brave, baby, but we both know you’re trying so hard not to listen to me.”

“there’s not much to listen to, min,” you swallowed slowly, “it’s not like you’re telling me what to do instead.”

“you’re not gonna manage to rope me into your little bratty game, babe.”

“i’m not playing a game, sir,” you said, just to mess with him, “all i’m doing is touching my clit.”

“and if i told you to get your pink vibe and start edging?” he smirked.

it was some reverse psychology, you knew, but at least it was better than being told not to touch. so you quickly grabbed the vibe and turned it on.

“like this?” you said, breathy, as you touched the toy to your pussy.

“yeah, baby, put it on the lowest setting for me and move it slowly.”

you nodded, doing as you were told, and minho smiled at you. it was almost as if he was relieved. but then, you pressed the button, the vibrations getting louder.

“i don’t remember that setting being so noisy, darling,” he clicked his tongue.

“it’s on six,” you let out as you swallowed more air.

“is six the lowest?”

“no,” you chuckled, rubbing the toy in slow circles around your bud.

“you’re gonna get a lot more than you can handle if you keep up with this nonsense,” he warned.

“sounds like a promise, min,” you smiled, the knot in your stomach tightening, “fuck!”

your chest rose up and down quickly, the camera still focused on your face. minho was staring you down, his gaze almost making you forget about the vibrations against you and how close you were getting already. he always made you forget about everything that wasn’t him when he managed to look at you like that. like he forgets about everything else, too.

“close?” he asked lowly.

“yeah,” you sighed.

“how many edges are you gonna do tonight?” he asked. you couldn’t answer him yet, as your high was getting closer and closer and closer. you had to pull away soon—before the knot would snap and you’d start cumming, but you just pressed the vibe harder against you as a moan escaped past your lips.

“pull away,” minho whispered. you could feel the knot so strongly, it was just about to break, and then you pulled away quickly and snapped your eyes open.

you breathed in and out, feeling the rush leave your body slowly as you caught your breath.

“good job,” he said sweetly. you smiled proudly at him—nothing felt quite as good as your boyfriend praising you, and he knew how much you loved it. he knew you loved it too much to keep disobeying him for too long.

“so how many, baby?” he asked again.

you looked at him, your mind blank as you thought it over. you were already out of your depth, you realised, when you understood the only reason you couldn’t pull away early enough was because you were waiting for minho to tell you to.

you weren’t that good at this bratty stuff.

“i, um,” you began. and that’s when minho flipped his camera around.

he had shorts on, the kind he wore when he was lounging, but they were pulled down to his thighs. you felt your mouth water at the sight of his bare thighs, thinking of how much you wanted to kiss them and suck on them and ride them. thinking it would be much more fun to edge on his thighs than on your little toy.

and then minho moved the camera up his body slightly, showing you the way his fingers wrapped around his hard dick. he slowly moved his index up and down his length, the way you always did.

“you’re not gonna answer?” he hummed.

“what was the question?”

“how many edges are you gonna do tonight?”

“i don’t, uh, i haven’t—“

minho laughed, his fingers wrapping around his length as he started stroking himself.

“what is it, brat?”

you swallowed.

“baby, i miss you,” you whined as he twisted his palm around himself.

“i miss my good girl, too. are you gonna give her back to me?”

“yeah,” you let out.

“yeah?” he questioned, his voice getting lower.

“yeah. yes, min. yeah, i’ll be good for you,” you promised.

he let out a big laugh, flipping his camera around soon enough for you to see his eyes crinkling.

“so all i had to do was show you my dick to get you to behave again?”

you blushed.

“i can’t help how beautiful you are, my love.”

minho smiled at you, poked his tongue out for a moment, and then sighed.

“two more edges and then you need to go to bed,” he instructed—and you quickly followed his orders.

bunny<3: good morning, baby. i hope you had fun last night<3. today i need to jump off this platform and start dancing. wish me luck!

you: i had so much fun, i always do when it’s you. and my lead dancer will do so well today, i’m sure of it!!

the next text only came through a few minutes before midnight—when you were just about to play the fifth episode of this new show you discovered.

bunny<3: only just wrapped. i’m too tired for a call but i love you. tomorrow i get to see you!

you: go rest, baby. i love you!

that night you dreamed about kissing your boyfriend again.

the next day during work your phone rang. you quickly asked your boss if you could take a ten minute break and stepped outside, answering the call with a smile.

your boyfriend appeared on your screen, a big smile on his face. he was wearing that outfit again.

“my baby!” you smiled at him, greeting him warmly at the unexpected call. he didn’t usually have time to call in the middle of work, but you guessed they were waiting around for something.

minho started telling you about what they were getting up to today, the amount of times they had to reshoot the same thing and that they were in fact waiting for a set to be finished so they could film the last scene.

as he asked you about your day at work so far, a few of the boys came into view, waving and smiling at you.

“hey ji!” you smiled at jisung as he wrapped himself around minho’s shoulders. “you look good as a cop!”

“thank you,” he laughed, “i know the officer quokka jokes are coming.”

“i would never make fun of you, officer,” you promised him with the best innocent smile you could master.

minho’s eyes were burning into your screen even through the monitor.

“when are you next coming over?” jisung asked, pouting at you.

you started to make plans, the pair of you waiting for each other to see the newest horror film together—but then minho loudly pushed jisung off him.

“stop hogging my girlfriend!!” he yelled.

“okay, okay, text me later y/n!” he said before he ran off.

“bye, officer!”

“so i see you’ve not calmed down, then,” minho said firmly.

“what?” you raised your brows—the perfect image of an angel. and usually, you were, but minho knew exactly what you were trying to do now.

not only did you pull a whole scene on him yesterday—but now you were trying to get him jealous, too. you thought it served him right, as you both knew he purposely called you now and not at any other time when he was wearing anything other than his police officer uniform.

“what are the plans for tonight?” he asked instead of answering your pointless question.

“when are you coming back?”

and then minho promised he’d make you food for when you got back home, that he’d be done with work before you, and that after the pair of you can just “chill”.

“chill?”

“sure. unless you want me to invite some of the boys over?”

“no!” you almost yelled at him, wanting nothing more than to be alone with him again.

it was then your boss told you to finish your call soon, so you quickly said goodbye to minho. not before adding a quick, “and say hi to hyunjin for me, okay?” with a smirk.

that earned you an eye roll from minho, followed by a quick air kiss and a wave.

the smell of freshly cooked food greeted you as you stepped inside your flat after a long day, just like minho promised you.

“jagi!” you yelled into the house, desperate to see his face in front of you again.

only silence followed, and when you peaked in the kitchen you saw a small note by the stove that said he had to go see chan for something important and you should eat the food while it was still warm.

you couldn’t help the disappointment that took over you—but it was part of his work, so you ate the fantastic food he made you and read over the few messages you missed while you were at work.

about an hour later, a few loud knocks made you jump.

you weren’t expecting company and you didn’t know anyone that would knock on your door rather than call you and tell you they were outside.

three more knocks.

you slowly opened the door—swallowing loudly as you took in your visitor.

“can i help you, officer?” you tried your best biting back your giggles, minho’s bright eyes looking you up and down hungrily.

you wanted to jump into his arms, rip the police uniform off him, but the poor guy went through the trouble of stealing it. so you had to indulge him instead. he was indulging you, after all.

“i’m here to investigate,” he said, pushing past you and into your home. “i have reason to believe you’ve broken a few rules.”

“oh, sir, i don’t think that’s correct—“ you tried, but a raise of his hand stopped the words in your throat.

“i’m going to need to—“ but before minho could

finish, keep up this game, a chorus of meows came in from the other room as three cats followed the new voice in the house.

they missed him, too.

minho leaned down to pick dori up, the other two walking in circle between his legs as their tails brushed against him happily.

“hey,” he said, his voice higher as he spoke to the cat, “i missed you so much.”

he was still wearing the uniform, he was still strong and intimidating, but as he brushed his face against the cat’s fur—he was suddenly your min again. soft, gentle, caring.

you smiled fondly at him as you listened to him explaining that, “mummy and daddy are going to be a little busy tonight and then later you’ll get all our attention.”

you laughed.

“did you feed them?”

“yep,” you nodded, the lovesick smile on your face mirroring his.

“did you feed yourself?”

“yes, it was really nice. thank you,”

at that minho nodded, placing dori back on the ground and urging his cats to wait for the pair of you. they listened, they always listened to minho, and made their way back to their playroom on the other side of the house.

minho straightened himself back out, pushing his hands back into the pockets of his tan trousers. he coughed.

“like i said, i’m gonna need to search you.”

“search me?”

“to make sure you’re not carrying anything dangerous, of course,” he smirked.

you smirked back at him, enjoying this game just as much as he was—and quickly placed your arms outside your body like you did at the airport when needing to be search. but you knew this time would be much less appropriate.

minho stepped closer to you, patting down your arms first as he saw many times before in movies.

then he crouched in front of you, sneaking a look up at you—his eyes glazing smugly—before he patted up your legs. when he reached your thighs, he patted higher and higher and higher, before running a finger softly over your crotch. he acted like he didn’t do that at all, instead patting his way back down your other leg.

he then stood up, looking right in your eyes as he patted across your stomach softly. with his eyes still locked on yours—he brought his a finger onto your collarbone, moving across it slowly, softly, trailing it down your chest until he reached the button of your shirt.

as your breath hitched, he undid the first button and then the next and then the next, never looking away from your eyes, until there was no buttons left. he pushed the fabric off your slowly.

“i need to make sure you’re not hiding anything under your shirt,” he explained, his voice so low you could almost feel it against your skin. you nodded in understanding as the shirt landed somewhere behind you.

minho brought both his hands up your stomach, moving slowly as he made sure to touch every part of your skin. his hands were cold to the touch, they usually were, but that didn’t stop the heat that followed his movements all the way up to your chest.

he licked his lips as he pushed the straps of your bra off your shoulders, quickly unclasping it as he let it fall to the floor, too.

he ran his hands over your tits softly, taking a moment to circle each of your nipples slowly as you gasp at the cold contact against your sensitive buds.

his hands trailed down your stomach again before he unhooked the button on your trousers and pushed it down your thighs.

he held your hand softly as you stepped out of them, leaving you wearing nothing but your underwear.

“now, everyone knows that’s the best place to hide something,” he said, running a finger over the hem of your underwear.

his eyes were mesmerised by the small goosebumps on your stomach as he touched you, the way your chest rose and fell quickly at his actions.

you nodded slowly at him as he pushed the last piece of clothing down your thighs.

“that’s much better,” he smiled. “now,” he leaned down to kiss your shoulder, his hands still teasing your tits, “if you confess i can make the punishment much lighter for you.”

“i have nothing to confess to,” you said with a shaky breath.

“no explanation for your behaviour this past week?” he asked with a raised brow.

you shook your head.

“you sure?”

in response, you tried leaning forward—eager to kiss him. but minho grabbed you by the throat, his fingers digging into you slightly as he tsked.

“bad girls don’t get kisses.”

“min,” you whined, but he shushed you. you pouted in response and he chuckled darkly at you.

“you did this to yourself, pretty girl.” you sighed at his praise, even if it came right after him denying you what you wanted most.

as beautiful as his body was in front of you, the black vest he was wearing making him seem so powerful—his lips were still the best part about him. so kissable, so soft, so inviting. you wanted to kiss him for hours and hours, but he wouldn’t even give you a small peck.

he brought his hand away from your chest, running it down your arm before he laced your fingers together. he started walking the pair of you to your room, and you slowly followed—becoming more and more aware of just how naked you were while he hadn’t taken anything off himself.

when he reached the bed, he placed you on the edge of it, getting you to sit down. you could feel the wetness between your legs coating your blanket, but that was a problem for later. much later.

minho kneeled in front of you, running his hands up and down your thighs soothingly. he looked right into your eyes as he slowly whispered, “why did you have to be such a brat, huh?”

“i just wanted to see what it would be like not to listen to you for once,” you said, already regretting that decision.

“but baby,” he sighed, pushing a bit of your hair behind your ear, “now i need to punish you and remind you exactly why you love being so good for me.”

“i do, i love being good for you, min,” you tried. he leaned forward, pecking your lips lightly as he sighed at you.

you chased his lips, wanting more than that, but he pushed you back by your shoulder.

“you made your choice, honey, now come the consequences,” he gave you one more kiss—and this time you knew it was futile to try and get another one. you simply nodded at him. he kissed your cheek before standing up and unbuckling his belt quickly.

“since you had to talk back, i’m gonna need to show you what your mouth was really meant for,” he said, shaking his head before he pulled his dick out of his pants. you both knew he wouldn’t take his clothes off anytime soon, but you really didn’t mind that at all.

you licked your lips in anticipation, giving him a few moments to stroke himself as he got fully hard in front of you.

you opened your mouth, quickly adjusting to the feeling of his weight against your tongue before you started sucking and licking your tongue against him. that’s when he knew he could start moving, thrusting his hips slowly into your mouth as you hummed around him.

“there you go, baby, just like that,” he praised you, his fingers softly rubbing against your scalp as he kept you in place.

you brought your hands to his thighs, feeling them flex against your hand before you kneaded the material between your fingers as minho started moving faster. you remembered to breathe through your nose as your felt his tip slid further down your throat.

you brought your other hand to the base of his shaft, stroking the part of him you couldn’t quite fit into your mouth—loving the way his deep moans sounded in your ear.

after a few more minutes, or maybe twenty, minho pulled out of your mouth. you gasped in some air, cleaning the bit of spit that travelled down your chin as he pulled away from you.

he leaned down, grabbing your hair as he pushed your head up to meet him. he kissed you, sloppily, unable to stop himself even though you both knew part of your punishment was not getting any kisses from him.

after a few moments he pulled away—but you couldn’t even bring yourself to complain. you knew it was more than you deserved.

“on the bed,” he ordered, and you quickly followed his orders, watching as he climbed on after you.

he instructed you to sit on your knees, spreading your legs for him to see the wetness coating your thighs.

“i love how you always get so wet from sucking me off,” he licked his lips, bringing a finger to your entrance to dictate just how wet you were.

he tapped your arm, telling you silently to lean up on your knees—like he was—and he wasted no time sinking two fingers into you.

they slipped in so easily, which made him tut at you.

“have you been touching today, too?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“no, no, i promise i haven’t,” you said quickly.

“how come you’re stretched out, then? or are you just always ready to take me no matter how much i give you?”

“yeah,” you nodded, gasping as he moved his fingers faster, “always ready for you.”

“i think you’re lying,” he said, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear. you clench around his fingers, at the proximity or his words, you weren’t sure.

“last time i touched was our phone call, really,” you whimpered, moaning slightly as he added a third finger.

he nodded at you, telling you he believed you now, deciding you were just so needy for him.

“aren’t you gonna tell me i’ve been good?” you asked, your eyes big in front of him as his fingers kept their steady pace.

he chuckled at you. “what, for doing the bare minimum?”

you felt yourself clenching again, another moan leaving you as your walls tightened around three of his fingers.

“getting so excited, baby. do you like being bad?”

you shook your head. you were missing his praise so much, you really weren’t good at disobeying him at all.

“use your words now,” he prompted, bringing his thumb to lightly bump against your clit.

you moaned louder at the contact, breathing heavily as you spoke. “i like being your good girl.”

“there you go,” he smiled, “you need me to tell you what to do, huh? you need me to make all your decisions for you, isn’t that right?”

“yes,” you gasped, “yes. just need to follow your orders, sir.”

he laughed. “there she is,” he kissed you softly, and then again. it was such a big contrast to the rough thrusts of his fingers, but you loved that about minho so much.

“i’m close,” you said quickly, your eyes sinking into his as he started moving his fingers even faster. “i’m so close.”

“and what do you do when you get close, baby?”

“can i cum?” you asked, almost instantly.

“such a good girl,” he kissed you again, “remembering all your rules,” another kiss, “what made you forget?”

“missed you so much,” you moaned, doing your best to hold off your upcoming high. “missed the way you touch me.”

“needy,” he kissed your cheek, “such a needy brat.”

you whimpered at that, grabbing his forearm as your hips started grinding against his palm. you were so so close.

as soon as you did so, minho pulled away, the empty feeling taking over you as your orgasm slipped away from you—your walls clenching around nothing.

“minho,” you whined, trying to pull him closer to you.

“shhh,” he soothed, bringing a hand into your hair as he calmed you down, “don’t worry, my love. you’re okay.”

after you regained a bit of control over your breathing, minho sat down next to you on the bed, inviting you onto his lap.

he quickly rid himself of the vest, leaving him in the tight black shirt as he pulled the trousers down his thighs.

then he pulled you by your hips, sinking you down onto his dick slowly.

the pair of you gasped at the feeling—minho’s head falling against the headboard as he gave you the time you needed to adjust.

“you’re only gonna move when i tell you to, okay?” he asked, the raise of his brow telling you you really shouldn’t disobey him any more tonight.

you nodded.

“no matter how good it feels,” he added. “okay?”

“okay,” you swallowed.

he didn’t tell you to move yet, so you dutifully stayed in place, getting used to the full feeling in your pussy.

minho brought his hand between your bodies, pressing against your clit. hard.

you moaned at the feeling, his name falling from your lips as you did everything you could not to rut your hips against him.

“please,” you let out, but all he did was apply more pressure.

you kept clenching, you kept wanting to move, but you brought your hands onto his shoulders to ground yourself, focusing as best you could on your task.

even without any movement, even without any friction, you could feel the knot in your stomach start to tighten—faster and faster. minho wasn’t adding any more pressure, he wasn’t even moving, but it was approaching you quickly.

you did everything you could to fight it, you were perfectly still.

and yet, after a few more moments of the pressure on your clit and the fullness inside you—your toes started to curl as the knot in your stomach snapped—your orgasm hitting you with full force.

you refused to move, you didn’t ride it out, you just let it wash over you as you moaned loudly at the euphoric feeling.

as soon as it stopped you opened your eyes with a gasp.

“shit, shit, minho, i’m so so sorry,” you rushed, bringing your hands to your face, “i didn’t mean to, i didn’t even know i could do it without moving. i’m sorry, i’m sorry—”

“—hey, hey,” minho said softly, bringing his hands around your back, “what’s wrong?”

“i was trying to be good, i swear, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to--”

“—stop, stop,” he gasped, “you didn’t do anything wrong. i wanted you to cum, baby, you were being good,” he promised.

“but you didn’t say i could,” you shook your head.

“y/n, look at me,” he asked you calmly. you opened your eyes, seeing nothing but adoration in his glossy ones. “i just got so lost in how you looked and how it felt, that’s the only reason i didn’t say anything. i promise.”

you fell into his chest after that, his hand running up and down your back even if the pair of you were a bit sweaty.

“i’m sorry i didn’t talk you through it, my love. you were just so so beautiful i couldn’t think of words.” you chuckled, “you were so so good. you did so well and that was so fucking hot right now. you did nothing wrong.”

you nodded.

minho grabbed your chin, bringing you to face him before he planted a soft kiss on your lips. it was soft, but passionate still, the kind of kiss you gave each other after a few days apart. minho wasn’t always good with words, especially when they weren’t dirty ones, and you learned to understand him best through his actions.

you knew he loved you through that kiss.

“tell me how you feel,” he asked after he pulled away.

“better now that i know it was alright,” you promised.

“of course it was alright,” he urged. “do you want to keep going or is that enough?”

“can you tell me what we’re gonna do next?” you asked slowly, your body already feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything you’ve done tonight.

this wasn’t a lot compared to what you and minho usually got up to—but you were feeling a little more vulnerable after your scare.

“i just wanted to fuck you until i came,” he chuckled, “but we can stop now.”

“no, no,” you smiled, “we can do that.”

minho chuckled at you. he grabbed the bottle of water you always kept on the nightstand, opening it up for you to drink. after a few generous gulps you handed it to him, and once you both hydrated minho put it back to the side and slide the pair of you down the bed.

“ready?” he asked, and after a quick nod and a kiss, he started thrusting up into you.

you were still sensitive from your orgasm, but the friction felt much better. the pair of you moaned, minho’s strong arms wrapped around your back as you both rocked back and forth to meet each other in the middle.

it didn’t take long at all until minho’s movements became sloppier, and before he could even warn you, he spilled inside you with a loud grunt.

the pair of you stayed stuck to each other, the sweat and both your wetness not bothering you too much as you each caught your breaths.

soon, minho started placing small kisses on top of your head, on your forehead, his fingers moving up and down your back soothingly.

“thank you for always taking care of me,” you whispered, moving your head to kiss his lips.

“thank you for being my bestest girl,” he smirked at you.

“oh,” you grinned, “and thank you for stealing this outfit and letting me ruin it.”

minho groaned, “i’m gonna need emergency laundry tomorrow.”

“i’ll help you out,” you offered, tucking your head back on his chest.

the pair of you stayed like that for a few more minutes before minho left to get something to help clean you with—and quickly change his clothes to a more comfortable option.

right before you fell asleep, safe inside your boyfriend’s arms, you mumbled out, “you always give me what i want.”

“because you being happy is what i want,” he said simply.

you chuckled at him, squeezing him closer before you drifted off together.

#minho x reader #minho x y/n #lee minho x reader #lee minho x y/n #lee know smut #lee minho smut #lee know x y/n #lee know x reader #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz smut #stray kids smut #smut #all.works

[ellielatinagf]

Ellie Williams hc <3

I’m a new author. Might not update much but I will when I can! Sfw. Not proofread.Free Palestine 🇵🇸

Ellie would definitely be an iPad kid. She would also get mad when you interrupt her while she’s eating ramen and on part 36 of the Lorax movie on tik tok

She prefers silver jewlary over gold. She might have her ears pierced and put small earrings in them. Definitely has some simple black metal rings

The girl can skate. Not saying she’s the best but she can do some simple cruising. But she tried to do tricks to impress you and ends up with bruises and cuts

Cannot talk to women for the life of her. When you met Ellie you complimented her outfit. She got nervous and wanted to compliment you back but damn you were hot. She ended saying “oh thanks nice elbows!” The poor girl never lived that down

Is a Fortnite god. But one time she was so hyped for the game that when she died at 2nd place she flopped on the couch so hard she broke a couch leg. Jesse was laughing so hard you could hear him through the headset

When she was little she used to put on a hoodie and her hair on her forehead and used to pretend she was a boy. She would take pictures of herself on her little iPhone6. You somehow got the pictures and laugh at them every now and then

Ellie actually keeps her nails neat and clean. She’ll clean then and file them so they’re not too long. She’ll even put on a coat of clear nail hardener. And for some reason it’s actually really hot

Has drafts on tik tok of her trying to do the “one line” challenges and a bunch of other tik tok Games. However she also has some drafts of guitar playing and a couple thirst traps here and there

She’s your personal chauffeur and will call you her passenger princess. She will blast your shared playlist and have one hand on the wheel and the other in your hand. She likes to mess with people so at a red light she will look at the car next to her and go 🤨✌️

Your saved as “babe💋” on her phone and your contact photo is a cute picture of you in front of a statue or piece of art from a museum. Meanwhile her contact name is “smelly ellie” with a silly picture of her tripping or making a funny face

*Smelly Ellie calling*

You: Hey Smellie

Ellie: STAWP🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

As of her occupation, she might actually be a co owner of a guitar shop that Joel bought. Either that or she might work as a mechanic in Tommy’s shop

She follows NASA on Instagram and liked every picture they post of a new image of a star or planet. She’d also send it to you and spit fun facts about it

Her favorite character on SpongeBob is Patrick. She thinks he’s so underrated and a comedic masterpiece. She watches every episode of the new spinoff “The Patrick Show”

The girl has the weirdest conspiracy theories that sound so weird but she makes them make sense. Like you’ll both be out at a restaurant eating and she’ll start telling you how she thinks the world will end

I don’t know about this one but I think she’d also be interested in the ocean. Marine life is just as cool to her and loves aquarium dates (when she’s not hunting down Abby)

When someone says something dumb on Instagram or Tik tok comments she’ll report them and then forget about it. Then when they reply two weeks later saying the user didn’t violate guidelines she’ll get mad again

I feel like no one talks about high school Ellie enough!! The girl played sports like maybe lacrosse and basketball. Joel was in the stands with her uncle Tommy cheering her on and you were with Dina holding a poster and had made a jersey with her name and number on the back. She was a little embarrassed but loved it

She and Jesse tried to convince Dina to let JJ enter a toddler race for a cash prize of 100 dollars

Sorry if this is so bad omg I’m just starting out but thanks for reading!!! This was fun I’ll definitely do more! Don’t be shy drop some recs!

Free Palestine🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

#ellie williams #ellie the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie hcs #joel miller #the last of us #ellie x reader

[clovermarigold]

Could you do a one shot of MK1 Johnny with a street racer reader?

Johhny Cage x Street Racer Reader

Johnny was in peak of his career, every movie he was in earning award after award. He was practically expected in every action movie of the decade, along with the occasional rom com. So here he is, looking over the long list of films his agent had procured for him to star in. Most had been by the request of their directors, but a few were movies his agent went out of his way to look into.

Being that films took years of work to film and edit, reshoots and last second voice overs, Johnny could only really commit to one, and the occasional small series or backup role. Looking through the list his attention was caught by a high pace action movie where he would star as the lead; an undercover cop trying to crack down on Los Angeles' street racing epidemic, only to be drawn into numerous hijinks.

It seemed like an interesting concept, the script was good, and he did have experience with this studio and director. But the real draw was the warning that was attached with the script.

Due to the risk factor involved in numerous stunts, scenes, as well as for realisms purposes. All cast members will be required to take safety courses as well as in constant supervision of professional consultant at all times.

He was going to be doing his own stunts and working with a real street racer. If that didn't have 'Cage Flick' written all over it in bold he didn't know what did.

He of course got the part, he still questioned why the audition was even necessary.

His first day on set was simple enough, meeting the cast and crew, as well as a few brief investors for the movie. That was until he met you.

You had grown up in LA and gotten into street racing fairly young, so naturally you were the best pick for this job. And the producers were willing to pay a fuck ton to be able to advertise that extra layer of 'authenticity'.

You were an instant hit with the cast, getting along with nearly all of them instantly. Johnny in particular was rather captivated. It was your first time meeting such a high-profile celebrity, even as a born and raised LA resident.

The attraction on Johnny's part was immediate. Confident, hot, and looked damn good in the driver seat.

Throughout shooting, you had coached Johnny on safety guidelines and how to do complex drifts and turns.

That wasn't to say the attraction was one-sided. Hell, you had thirsted over this man with your friends when you binged his movies. So, when you heard the director making fun over him about his less than hidden attraction towards you, you took your chances.

A hand guiding his when instructing him how to use the gear shift, giving him pats on the back when he figured out how to pull off the reversed driving sequence, and being extra sure he was behind you when you decided to bend over to inspect the hood of the car. (there was nothing wrong with it)

Despite what media would have you think, being an actor is a very busy and grueling job. Johnny had wanted to ask you out a number of times, but by the point he had enough courage and confidence that you were also interested, filming had wrapped up.

So here he was, sitting in an Italian tux, surrounded by some of the most talented minds in the filming industry, with an Oscar nomination, wondering where the hell it all went wrong.

"Johnny" he looked to his co-star sitting to his left. Looking down to see the small bound together papers with the word 'draft' on it.

"It's soon, but, by the looks of it.... It's been greenlit" A sequel?

Well, seeing as he was the main lead, it was no doubt they'd need him to come back. And if they did?

He knew the condition he was going to demand if they wanted him.

Maybe he could finally ask you out for that drink.

#johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #street racing #movie au #fast and furious #mk1

[awmancreeper]

♡Lonely Boy Will Stay Lonely?. 24 - Dying to Find Out

--❣︎ StayC’s Y/n is notorious for being K-pop’s social butterfly and making friends comes rather easy for her. When she’s asked to be an MC for Inkigayo, one of her co-hosts doesn’t seem too pleased to be working with her. This unknown feeling sparks a drive to become the bestest of friends with him but from the looks of it, he’ll fight her the whole way there.

Masterlist / prev / next

!!written parts!!

“Time to get Y/n!” Your manager's voice rang through your slumber. “Why?!“ you cried out eyes still closed “Because we have a schedule today” You felt your manager's plush hand on your shoulder.

“But I don’t wanna go!” You whined

“L/n we have to be at the company before they get there” he explained pulling the blanket off of you. You thrashed around but something was holding you back “Y/n get up” Yeeun's voice added “It’s fine if we’re a little late,” you said snuggling into your stuffy.

“But we’re already here” your stuffy spoke which sounded like Yoon. Your eyes shot open

You were in the car at the parking garage of the HighUp building “When we get here?” You asked generally confused “And why are you two here?”

“Well~” Yoon began

“Come on y/n” your manager tugged at the backpack's tail. You whined practically asleep as he dragged you out of the dorm “Oh y/n! manager!” Sumin called out. The both of you stopped “Can you please take the maknae’s with you today? They haven’t been out and I’m sure if Chae hears another one of their bickering fests she’s gonna go crazy” Sumin explained pointing at Isa who was in the kitchen drinking coffee while her eyes were bloodshot. “It was 3 in the morning and they were arguing about candles,” Isa said shakily bringing the mug to her lips.

“So can you take them?” Sumin asked but you were too busy climbing your manager’s back trying to get comfortable “Sure” he said.

“Oh, WAIT HOW DO I LOOK!?!” You freaked out grabbing your phone trying to check yourself out “Like how you always look” Yeeun exclaimed as you spotted yourself still wearing your pj shirt that had on with pink sweats. “What is this?!” “Hey, trying to change a sleeping person is a lot harder than it seems” Jayoon grumbled you look down “These aren’t even dancing shoes!” You said pointing at the bear slippers that hugged your feet.

You stretched your legs while looking at the mirror, your manager had left back to the dorms to pick up your shoes and Yoon and J played around the white dance room. You were pondering about the conversation you had with your friends last night, you’d think you know if you had a crush on Hyuka.

They were overreacting to the possible reason for your despair that day. Kai is one of your good friends, yeah he’s hot and cold with you but that’s just because he’s awkward.

You started to really think about it. If you did have a crush on Kai what would that feel like? I mean with Soobin you felt admiration or as Yeeun would call it ‘thirst’.

You’d say Kai was kinda cute and his personality is interesting.

“You okay? your head is kinda smoking” J said walking over to you with your backpack on. “Yeah I’m just thinking” her face cringed “Yikes” she joined you on the floor.

“What’s up?” Yeeun asked, “Do you know what a crush feels like?” You asked her, and she looked at you flabbergasted. Turning her attention to the mirror “Man i don’t know”

“You got a crush on someone?” She question but you just shrugged “I’m not sure”

“Hello,” a male voice called out, both you and J turn to see Yoon greeting your mc partners and their staff with your bear slippers on her hand “Welcome!”

“But I’m dying to find out, Hi Sungie and Ning!”

Taglist: @txtbrainrot @azinwo @mackjestic @mangobee @ggggghost @adajoemaya @kainkhemistry @suzirumas @amareoverall @owotalks @justemalove @kaisdefender @aloverga @myahwritesss @justiceya @loopycorn1123 @amara-mars @samvagejkflxhrt @iraa567 @liinori @reinahwanggg @bangchansbae @heyitssarah63 @txtmetonight @lilyidk03 @roseidol @heymickyy @sofia-rom (CLOSED)

#tomorrow x together #kpop smau #kpop #fem reader #txt smau #txt fluff #huening kai #hyuka x reader #huening kai x reader #idol smau

[whatsnewalycat]

Designated Person | Chapter 4

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x F!Reader

Chapter 4: Fireworks

Series Summary: When posting bail for Frankie Morales, your former employer and former lover, you unwittingly designate yourself as his third party custodian during his pre-trial release. Your often tumultuous relationship with him is given a new set of rules and put to the test. Can the two of you co-exist peacefully, or will you crash and burn?

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 10.3k+

Content / Warnings: Frankie POV, infidelity, past romantic & sexual relationship and related flashbacks, AA meeting and 12 step program, monologue (sorry for the big text blocks), talk of prayer & faith & higher power, triple frontier boys hiya (RIP tom), yoga, arguing in front of a child, jealousy, suicidal thoughts, fireworks, ptsd symptoms including flashbacks, racing thoughts, unprotected PIV sex, praise kink, food and food preparation

Notes: Hi, friends. I'm really hoping I got all the verbiage and characterizations for the other triple frontier characters to be ok lol I apologize if they seem off, I was going from memory alone! Thank you for reading.

[ Tag List ] [ AO3 ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ Series Masterlist ]

Even before consciousness has fully gripped his body, the thought at the forefront of Frankie’s mind is blaring and unavoidable.

I want a fucking drink.

The wanting has become a reliable companion these past few weeks.

It’s always tugging at his sleeve, begging to be known. Sometimes it’s a scream and sometimes it’s a whisper, but it’s always fucking there.

As he turns off his alarm. As he trudges his body across squeaking floorboards to the bathroom. As he turns on the shower. As he scours his body with a sudsy washcloth. As he gets dressed. As he pours steaming hot coffee into a travel mug.

I want a fucking drink I want a fucking drink I want a fucking drink I want a fucking drink I want a god damn mother fucking drink.

It’s your day off, so you’re still sleeping. The silence of the house juxtaposes his heavy movements and deafening inner monologue. He finds himself missing the background noise of your morning routine running parallel to his. The scratching of your pencil on paper as you plot out your day. Your hushed voice as you mutter to yourself. The soft footfalls of you tiptoeing around like you have to be quiet all the time.

He grabs his work boots and drags himself over to the couch, sagging into its worn cushions with a groan. The knotted muscles of his neck and shoulders protest when he bends over to shove his feet into the boots. A wince tightens across his face as he laces them up.

Michael honks his car horn outside.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Frankie mutters under his breath and glares up at the window.

I want a fucking drink.

On the ride to work, he stares out the window, tuning out the sound of Michael’s blaring morning talk show radio. Every sip from his travel mug is accompanied by the hope that somehow the hot, bitter coffee has transformed into a drink with a different kind of burn.

He busies himself throughout the morning with aircraft system checks and diagnostic tests. While his hands and brain are working together on something challenging, it’s easier to hush the thirst.

On his lunch break, Frankie checks in with Ralph, then eats a cold ham sandwich. He wonders if you would notice him bringing home a bottle of booze. If he could just drink a little bit, just something to make the world around him go fuzzy around the edges. Something to quiet his racing thoughts.

He thinks of what you told him at family dinner last Sunday. Tries to pull from his blurry memories of Australia. How he felt the wall between his infatuation with you and his marriage start to crumble.

One day, when the wives were out, shopping and sightseeing, Frankie sat around drinking and reminiscing with Pope and the Millers. You were in the swimming pool with Sarah cradled on your hip, splashing and giggling. He couldn’t stop watching you, aching with adoration at the way you doted on his daughter like she was your own.

“You doing ok, there, Fish?” Pope grinned, following Frankie’s line of sight to you, “Anything you need to tell us? Say, I don’t know, maybe about the nanny?”

Frankie snapped out of the trance and looked across the patio table at his longtime friend, meeting his mischievous dark brown eyes, and shook his head, “I’m fine.”

He tipped a beer bottle against his lips and took a long swallow, savoring how chilled it was in contrast to the hot, still air.

“Oh, come on,” Pope chuckled, then glanced around the table at Will and Benny, “Am I the only one seeing this?”

“Not my monkeys, not my circus,” Will muttered, then took a swig of beer.

Frankie pressed his fingers against his lips and shook his head some more, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I went ahead and made a move on her, then?” Benny teased, leaning back in his chair with satisfaction when Frankie squirmed in discomfort.

“Jesus Christ, leave the poor girl alone,” he groaned and lifted his hat for a moment to run his hand through his hair, “She’s trying to do her job, not get harassed.”

“Who said I’d harass her? She’s single, I’m single, and if she’s into it, I mean…” a shit eating grin spread across Benny’s face as he shrugged.

Frankie sighed and glanced over at you in the swimming pool, grateful for how completely oblivious you were to the conversation.

“That is, unless you have a problem with it for some reason. Right, Benny?” Pope chimed in, leaning forward to study Frankie’s reaction.

“Well, yeah, but I can’t imagine why you’d have a problem with it,” Benny frowned, then looked at Frankie, “Of course, unless there’s something you wanna tell us.”

Frankie crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head, “Go for it. Just—just don’t be a dick, ok? I don’t wanna have to buy an early flight back.”

Benny raised his eyebrows and smiled at Frankie in challenge, then swiveled his mischievous gaze to Pope, who started chuckling with amusement, “He’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

Fucking instigator.

With this, Benny swallowed the rest of his beer and got to his feet. He strode over to the pool, and Frankie could hear a faint, “Mind if I join you ladies?”

Frankie’s leg started bouncing as he glared at Pope and muttered, “Vete al demonio.”

“Oh, lighten up, Fish. Let the kids have fun,” Pope teased, then finished his beer and stood up, “You guys thirsty?”

“Parched,” Frankie answered. Will nodded and lifted his index finger in agreement. Pope went inside, leaving him and Will in silence. Frankie tried to seem disinterested as you laughed at something Benny said, but felt his jaw tighten.

“I share a wall with her, you know,” Will informed him with a sideways glance.

“What?” Frankie’s gaze snapped to the blonde man sitting beside him.

Will smirked then, raising an eyebrow, “Can’t sleep on these kinds of trips, you know. Dani sleeps like a rock. But I’ll stay up until, 2 or 3 in the morning, and boy. I hear some interesting things.”

Silence settled like fiberglass under his skin. Frankie gnashed his jaw back and forth, then sighed, “Ok, look—”

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Will chided, shaking his head loosely.

Frankie ran a hand over his face and sat up, “Look, it’s not a big deal, it doesn’t even mean anything—”

“Bullshit,” Will boomed. Frankie noticed you and Benny fall silent, so he looked over and saw you both frowning at the conversation. Will followed his gaze and waved to indicate all good here.

Benny shrugged and said something to you that made you laugh. Frankie clenched his jaw so hard he wondered if his teeth would break.

Will cleared his throat and leaned in, quieter in his protest, “I can read you like a fucking book, Frankie. We all can. It’s obvious you have feelings for her.”

Frankie’s throat tightened. He looked down at his hands and muttered, “And what if I do? It’s not like it’ll go anywhere.”

“Hey, that’s not true,” Will grabbed his shoulder and jeered, “It’ll go to divorce court.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Frankie snorted and shook his head. Will laughed at his expense, slapping his shoulder a few times before leaning back in his chair.

Pope slid open the back door and shuffled outside with a big, plastic cooler.

“But really, man. Do you remember what you told me when you found out Ang was pregnant?” Will asked quietly.

He nodded, but kept his eyes trained on Pope, who made a pit stop to give a beer to you and Benny.

“You said, and I quote, ‘Will, I can’t dump her now, what the fuck am I gonna do, be miserable?’”

“Why are you telling me this?” Frankie snipped.

“If you’re wanna be with this girl, whatever, it’s not my business—”

“Really? ‘Cause it seems like you’re making it your business—”

“But don’t stay in a relationship you don’t want, thinking you’re doing Angie some kind of favor, ok? Shit or get off the pot.”

Frankie nodded in acknowledgment, but indignation seeped into his blood, cycling hot and defensive through his body. He gave a two finger wave to Pope, who was lowering the cooler to the ground next to the table.

“Benny and your girl seem to be hitting it off over there,” Pope grinned as he popped the cooler’s lid open.

“Jesus Christ, I’m going to take a piss,” Frankie grumbled and stood to his feet. He kept his eyes on the ground when he passed the pool, trying not to draw your attention.

When he exited the bathroom, you were down the hall closing the door to the guest bedroom he and Angie were using. Of course you followed him inside. The worst possible time for you to do it.

You whispered, “I just laid Sarah down for a nap, she was getting crabby.”

He sighed and passed you with a wide berth, muttering, “Ok.”

“Hey, are you ok?” you tiptoed along behind him and grabbed his hand.

He jerked away from your touch and hissed, “You can’t be acting like this when everyone is around. Do you know what would happen if we got caught?”

You recoiled and stepped back, “Sorry.”

A weighted silence fell over the two of you.

“Are… you gonna go, then, or…?” you searched his face and blinked with annoyance.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he started off towards the back door, but jealousy tugged at his marionette strings and spun him around, “Well, no. Benny? Really?”

“Wow,” you scoffed and shook your head, “Are you fucking serious right now?”

He took a few steps closer, crowding you against the living room wall, lowering his voice to a whisper, “If he so much as touches you—”

“Well that’s not going to happen, so,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest and stared at him.

“Oh, really? You seemed to be getting along—”

“I don’t want him, Frankie,” you whispered, your eyes melting into these big, pleading pools, “I want you.”

He searched your face, and he saw that you meant it. His body acted on impulse then, propelled forward by the relentless electricity that pulsed beneath his skin each time he saw you, by the desire to claim you as his own, even if it wasn’t supposed to be right or fair. Even if it was his fucking ruining.

His fingers grazed the baby blue triangle of your bikini bottom. Goosebumps pricked your bare skin and you unfurled your arms to press your palm against his bare chest. You shuddered his name, and he stole it from your lips with a kiss. Right there in the living room.

The front door opened and the excited chatter of Angie, Yvonne, and Dani filled the open space. Frankie jumped back and strode towards the noise to greet them, to distract them from your presence, while you slipped out the sliding glass door to the backyard.

After Michael drops him off at his Monday night AA meeting, held in the conference room at a local church, Frankie helps himself to stale cookies and watered down coffee. David talks about “The Big Book” and goes over the 12 steps. This time Frankie actually listens.

One of the attendees, Carol, details her struggle with the second step: Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

“Until recently, I’ve really struggled with this step. I was under the assumption I had to know exactly what it meant, or, um, who that Power was before believing. I’ve always seen higher power in practice as the neat little boxes that people stuff their spirituality into—like my parents, who were devout Catholics. And that kind of thinking, it just never sat right with me. I don’t like being put in a box. Organized religion is not for me,” she explains, waving her long, skinny hands emphatically around her head as she speaks, “But I had a revelation a few weeks ago. Long story short, I don’t have to know what it is. I don’t have to label that Power, or understand it, or join a church. I just have to believe that there’s something and work towards it.”

A few people nod in understanding. She continues.

“Long story long, I started praying twice a day. It felt… silly, I guess, at first. Like I was just talking to myself. I thought that what I said didn’t matter because I didn’t know who was listening or if it would pay off. I kept getting frustrated, and I was talking to my sponsor, who said I had to let go of that reservation and just have faith. And I says to her, ‘how can I have faith in something without proof, or without knowing what it is? How can I believe in something if I don’t know for certain that it’s anything at all?’”

Carol pauses here, furrowing her brow at her white styrofoam cup of coffee, “And my sponsor, she says to me, ‘Isn’t that what faith is, though? To trust what you feel, but can’t touch? To go through motions and rituals in the hope that it will make things better, or give life meaning?’ I’ve been thinking lately that maybe sometimes a particular Power, and those rituals, they work for us and sometimes they don’t.

“After thinking on this more, mostly what I’ve found, and mostly what I want to share with y’all, is that faith is a lot like love. Some people believe in love at first sight, and that’s fine for them,” Carol chuckles a little, raising a skeptical brow, then looks around, “But mostly, you meet someone and they strike a chord with you. There’s a flicker of something in there. You establish your rituals, like dates, or phone calls, or sex, or what have you.

“Then with certain people, with the people who are right for us, love flourishes. Now, most of the time, you don’t know if your efforts will bear love as its fruit. Sometimes there’s a flicker, and you really think it’s right, so you tend to it, but it wilts and dies. Either way it goes, you have faith first. You think maybe this will be something, then go through the motions. And if it is? If it is love? God, isn’t that something beautiful? Doesn’t that make it all worth it?”

Carol sighs and looks down at her cup again, “And I think maybe, up until now, I was trying to cultivate faith in places it just couldn’t grow. Like a church. Before, I thought that maybe there just isn’t a higher power, because I had already gone on a few dates with the Catholic Church, and honey, that was not meant to be,” she stops and chuckles again, then her face sobers, “But with this prayer, there’s a flicker. I’m not sure what, or who, it is exactly, and sometimes that drives me crazy. But I keep going through the motions. Establishing rituals that strike a chord with me, that make me feel like I’m connecting to something bigger.

“And, isn’t that the point? To let go of the control you think you have over yourself? To believe that this thing, this Power, could save us? Then to follow it with the faith that it will?”

The room is quiet as everyone reflects on this. Carol adds on lamely, “That’s all, thanks for listening.”

“That was beautiful, Carol, thank you,” David tells her, then looks around the table, “Who would like to go next?”

“I do,” Frankie says, then shifts in his seat when everyone brings their attention to him. He thrums his fingers against his jeans and looks down at the table, “For those of you who don’t know, I’m here as a condition of my parole. My sobriety is a condition of my parole. I didn’t think it was a problem, honest to god. But now that I’m sober… All I wanna do is drink. I don’t know what to do with myself, or how to sleep, or how to talk to people, or deal with anything. I didn’t realize how much of my life I spent drinking until I had to cut it out and found all this empty space,” he frowns and looks around, “Did you all find that, too?”

Every single person nods and/or hums in agreement.

Frankie nods and swallows hard, then says, “I drank because I thought it made me feel happy, or more… at ease, at least. But now I’m looking back and it’s like all those times I thought I was doing something that made me happy, what I was actually doing is suppressing the negative emotions. I’ve never dealt with, you know, the grief, or anger, or sadness, or guilt,” he pauses here and takes a breath, then admits, “That’s probably the hardest one for me right now. The things I’ve done—“ he swallows a lump in his throat as a thousands of horrifying images flash across his mind’s eye, then clears his throat and shakes his head, “I’m taking it one day at a time. And I think that… admitting that I’m an alcoholic, and truly believing it, is a step that I’m ready to take. So, um, I don’t know. There it is.”

Frankie glances up at David and sits back in his seat. When he glances around at the other attendees, a few nod and smile in support.

“Thank you for sharing, Frankie,” David says, then asks everyone, “Who’s next?”

The house is quiet when Frankie gets home. He changes out of jeans, into a pair of basketball shorts, all the while listening for the sounds of your presence. But he doesn’t hear anything.

He wanders through the kitchen, to the back hallway and hovers at your open bedroom door. A frown crosses his face when he spots your purse on the ground next to your bed.

Just when he’s about to give up on looking and call to see where you are, he hears music from outside. He follows it like a beacon, through the laundry room, out the back door, and into the side yard.

It’s a fenced off space between the garage and the house. Like the rest of your property, it’s small and efficient, but cozy. You’ve made it your own with by planting shiny-leaved bushes, flowers, and a lanky palm tree that stands at the back of the fence. Cement pavers mark a path between the two doors and a square patio. On the patio, there’s a neglected charcoal grill, a folding lawn chair, and a rainbow striped hammock.

There you are, stretched out in your hammock, reading a book. Your foot wiggles along to music playing out of a Bluetooth speaker resting against the black aluminum hammock stand.

“Hey,” he calls as he approaches.

You peek over the top of Doctor Sleep by Stephen King and chime, “Hey, how was your meeting?”

When he sits down in the lawn chair next to your hammock, you mark your place in the novel and lower it onto the cement pavers of your patio.

“It was… really good, actually,” Frankie admits. His leg starts bouncing and he leans forward, “Someone shared something that really resonated with me. And, uhh, I participated willingly for the first time.”

He glances up at you and sees an elated smile crossing your face. Warmth spreads across his chest. His eyes stay trained on yours when he tells you, “I told them about how hard sobriety has been, and, um… told them that I have accepted the fact that I am… an alcoholic.”

You don’t even flinch.

Your smile just brightens and you clap your hands, “That’s fucking awesome!”

“Thanks,” he grins and drops his gaze to his hands, feeling incentivized by your excitement, “It has been hard, you know, not drinking. I feel… restless, I guess. I don’t know what to do with myself most of the time.”

“Have you tried doing yoga?” you tilt your head and tuck an arm under your head. Your shirt rides up and he can’t help but glance at the soft skin of your belly. Can’t help but feel a tug of want.

“No,” he chuckles and blinks up at you, “I don’t think I’m flexible enough for that.”

You scoff and shake your head, “You don’t have to be flexible, it’s not about that. It’s about being present in your body.”

He raises an eyebrow at you.

“It’s been really helpful for me when I feel restless and disconnected from myself. We can do it together, I’ll walk you through it,” you flash a reassuring smile, “Trust me, it’ll be good.”

Frankie crinkles his nose and leans back in his chair.

“Oh my god, just try it. I won’t tell anyone, I promise,” you tap your fingers against your belly and shrug, “Unless you’re too chickenshit.”

He snorts and shakes his head, “Wow, really?”

A mischievous grin spreads across your face.

“Fine,” he concedes with a sigh, trying to hide the smile turning up the corners of his lips, “I’ll try it.”

As he predicted, Frankie was stiff and awkward in the yoga poses you showed him.

At some points, he was sure you were trying to torture him. His strained muscles burned and trembled as he followed your instruction, while you made it look effortless.

But you were patient and coached him through it, quietly reminding him to breathe deep and wide, to focus his breath, and the stretch, and the connection his body made to the mat.

Despite his resistance, he felt markedly more relaxed afterwards. While he rolled up the yoga mats and returned them to the laundry room, you gathered a bunch of deli meats and cheeses, crackers, olives, and jams, then laid them out across a cutting board. The two of you sat at the dining room table and tried different combinations of ingredients.

“Did you like doing yoga?” you ask, then pop a green olive in your mouth.

“It wasn’t too bad.”

“It gets easier,” you say, then look up and meet his eyes, “You gonna do it with me tomorrow?”

“When?” he drops his gaze to the charcuterie board and folds up a piece of salami on top of a round, golden cracker.

“Oh, do you have to check your social calendar?” you snort.

“Haha,” he rolls his eyes and smirks, then shifts in his seat, “No, Ang asked if I wanna go over there for dinner.”

“Ah,” you nod, and he swears he sees you fold into yourself a little, then you frown, “Whenever, really. Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Ok,” he responds, then stacks some cheese on top of the salami cracker and shoves the whole thing in his mouth.

“So you’re not gonna be home for dinner?”

He shakes his head. The word home makes his stomach clench. Part of him wants to remind you that he will be home for dinner. In his real home. Another part of him dismisses it as a misnomer.

And a teeny, tiny sliver of him, just a whisper, doesn’t mind it at all.

Likes it, even.

He banishes the thought from his brain, but it lingers in his senses, like the acrid scent of gunpowder after shots are fired.

You dust off your hands and shrug, “Alright.”

The evening sun is relentless as it bears down on the wooden deck off the back of the two-story house Frankie feels conflicted about calling his own.

Sarah is chattering to herself as she plays with penguin figurines in the little inflatable pool Frankie gifted to her after arriving. Her squeaky little voice lilts up to where he’s sitting in an Adirondack chair and, although he can’t understand what she’s saying exactly, he thinks she’s assigning different voices to each penguin. His heart aches with adoration.

“How did your hearing go on Wednesday?” Angie asks from her chair a foot away.

“Fine,” he shrugs, then swings his gaze to meet her sunglasses, “Plead not guilty. Lawyer said he’s looking into an illegal search and seizure angle. If we can get the possession charge dropped, I’ll just be on the hook for the DWI. I wouldn’t be able to drive for a few years and maybe have to do some time, but a hell of a lot less than it would be.”

“Better hope they drop it then,” she sighs, “I don’t know what the hell we’re gonna do if you have to go to prison.”

“Be my prison wife?” Frankie jokes, leaning towards her with a sly smile.

Her lip curls and she shakes her head, “Seriously, Frankie. Without your income we could squeeze by, but we might have to move closer to my parents.”

This statement flares hot under his skin. It’s not the first time she’s made this particular threat. In fact, she reminds him every goddamn time they’re together. Holding Sarah as a bargaining chip between her manicured hands. It drives him fucking crazy.

“You’re not moving my daughter to fucking Texas,” he bites off.

She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow.

His leg starts bouncing. He takes a deep breath, then assures her, “The lawyer says we have a good chance of getting it dropped. It’ll be alright. We’ll get through it. You’re not moving.”

He turns back to watch Sarah and leans back in the chair, pressing his fingers to his lips. The silence is weighted.

“Has the trial date been set?” she asks. Her tone is sharp and annoyed.

“No,” he answers.

“My dad says I should divorce you, you know,” she spits.

He releases a heavy sigh and runs his hands over his face.

“Should’ve done it a year ago. Let the little slut have you,” she mutters, “I bet you’re both overjoyed with this arrangement.“

“Jesus Christ, Ang. How many times do we have to have this conversation?“ he groans and leans forward onto his knees.

“As many times as I fucking want to, Francisco,” she booms.

Sarah looks up at the noise.

Frankie warns, “Hey, lower your voice—”

Angie gets to her feet, “You fucking cheated on me, you fucking—”

“Stop—”

“—ASSHOLE!“

With this, she storms inside. Anger, buzzing bright and hot, brings him to his feet and makes him follow her.

Inside, Angie is pulling a beer from the fridge. She twists the top off and tosses it onto the counter.

“If you want to yell at me, fine, fucking yell at me,” he hisses as he walks up to her, then points to the back door, “But do not do that shit in front of her.”

She rolls her eyes and starts guzzling from the glass bottle.

“Seriously, Ang,” he pleads, calming his demeanor as he draws closer to her, “She doesn’t need to see us fighting.”

She sets the beer down on the counter and crosses her arms, “I hate this whole thing, Frankie.”

“I know, baby,” he coos and closes the distance between them, then hesitantly places his hands on her waist. She doesn’t swat him away, which is a relief.

“Every night I go to sleep alone, while you’re under that bitch’s roof,” her big golden brown eyes start to swell tears and she shakes her head, “It fucking kills me.”

“Every night I go to sleep alone, too,” he searches her eyes, presses his eyebrows together, “What happened with her a year ago, what you saw, that was the only time. And it was a mistake. It has never, and will never, happen again.”

“Then why did you call her to bail you out, Frankie? That’s what doesn’t make sense to me. If that was the only time, why did you call her out of the blue to bail you out of jail a year later?”

His heart jumps up into his chest. This is a new point of contention he hadn’t prepared for. He pulls the first excuse he can think of out of his ass.

“It was one of the phone numbers I could remember. I didn’t think she would actually agree. But she met the requirements, and,” he shakes his head and sighs, “It was stupid. I just wanted to get the fuck out of there.”

Angie’s shoulders soften and she sniffles, “Why did you have her phone number memorized?”

“She was our nanny for over two years, Ang,” he says, as if that could explain it.

She furrows her brow and looks over his shoulder towards the backdoor, then back to him, “I should go check on her.”

Frankie nods, “Ok.”

While she’s outside, he stares at the open beer bottle. Half full. Golden and bubbling. Asking to be finished.

He shakes his head and takes a few steps away, putting distance between himself and the object of his desire. His conversation with Angie replays. Guilt wrings his stomach.

The retaining wall of lies he’s built around his life with her is buckling. He doesn’t even know if it’s worth repairing. Or why he keeps trying.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, so he pulls it out and walks into the living room.

> MARIPOSA: > FYI Rory is coming over, let me know when you’re on your way home

Frankie’s ears start ringing and his jaw clenches.

His mind is so far away, he doesn’t even hear Angie and Sarah come inside until Angie says, “I’m gonna order pizza in a bit, does that sound good?”

“Hmm?” he shoves the phone back into his pocket and searches her face, then her words catch up to his lagging brain, “Oh, yeah, that’s fine.”

Sarah squeals and claps, “Pizza!”

< ME: < omw

Frankie’s leg won’t stop bouncing. His mind won’t stop racing. He can’t pay attention to anything Angie is jabbering on about, although he’s pretty sure it’s just some bullshit office drama from her job.

All he can think about is the implication of Rory being there when he’s not. The text you sent to make sure Frankie won’t walk into the house and hear you fucking someone else. It’s heavy, the weight of the knowledge that another man is placing his hands on what Frankie—unjustly, he’s painfully aware of it—feels is his.

He seethes to himself from the passenger’s seat of Angie’s SUV. His jaw is clenched and tightens all the way down his neck. He tries to reason with himself, to convince himself, that he just wants what’s best for you. He wants you to be with someone who treats you right. Someone who knows you.

And this fucking guy, Rory, he doesn’t know you. Not like Frankie does.

Rory doesn’t know that your favorite holiday is Valentine’s Day. Or that you have a scar on your navel from getting your bellybutton pierced in a friend’s basement at 14. Or that you secretly love kids cartoons. Or that you refuse to kill spiders, not because you’re scared of them, but because you sympathize with them. Or that you like taking naps while NASCAR plays on the TV. Or that you’ve memorized every line in Moulin Rouge.

Rory doesn’t know about the nightmares. How you wake up shaking and crying more nights than not. He doesn’t know what to do when you’re having a panic attack. He doesn’t know what happened to you that caused these symptoms.

Frankie doesn’t even know that.

“Are you ignoring me?” Angie asks.

“What?” he whips his head towards her.

“That’s what I thought,” she scoffs, “I asked if you want to come over on Tuesday for dinner.”

“Sorry,” he clears his throat, then says, “Yeah, of course.”

Angie doesn’t say anything. The SUV pulls up to your little orange house and she puts it in park. Down the street somewhere, a firecracker goes off with a loud POP!

His ears start buzzing and he shakes his head, then glances over at his wife.

“Hey, Ang,” he reaches out and grabs her hand. She turns and meets his eyes, then he tells her, “I appreciate you trying. I really do. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she murmurs and allows a smirk to cross her mouth when Frankie pulls her hand to his lips.

He sits up and glances into the back seat and smiles at Sarah’s sleeping face, then at Angie, “Goodnight girls.”

“Frankie,” she tightens her grip on his hand and her eyes drop to his lips in suggestion. He leans over the center console, where she meets him with a gentle kiss.

She pulls back and smiles sweetly, “Goodnight.”

He flashes her his best attempt at a warm smile, then opens the door to get out.

Once inside the house, Frankie takes off his shoes and stands there in the living room, paralyzed by the silence. Then laughter bubbles out from behind your closed bedroom door. It mobilizes him, carrying him to your guest bedroom, where he sits on the edge of a mattress you probably inherited from an ex-boyfriend.

He looks around the room, at all your artifacts lining the walls and covering surfaces. The pile of duffel bags in the corner, all half-gutted and rifled through because he hasn’t really unpacked yet. Like he knows this space isn’t his.

The rotten cavity he calls a chest aches.

It’s like he could disappear and nothing would change. More aptly, things would be better. You would still have this spare bedroom, as is, minus the mess. Angie and Sarah would still have their lives, as is, minus the mess.

A firework crackles somewhere down the block. Hooting and hollering follows from the people who set it off. Probably drunk.

He envies them.

“Fuck this,” Frankie mutters to himself, then gets up to go take a shower, figuring the stinging burn of hot water might be a suitable substitute for the whiskey his body craves.

When he’s walking through the kitchen on his way to the bathroom, your bedroom door swings open. Because of course it does. A tall, muscular man follows you out into the kitchen. He’s explaining something to you about gym memberships and you do not appear interested.

Both of you notice Frankie’s presence at the same time. Everyone freezes.

Your eyes widen slightly, but you smile, “Oh hey, you’re back!” Then you turn back to Rory and say, “This is my roommate, Frankie.”

“Hey,” Frankie nods at the man, then steps forward and holds his hand out, “What’s your name?”

You glare at him because you know Frankie knows your boy toy’s name.

“Rory,” he takes Frankie’s hand and gives it a firm shake, then turns to you with a slight frown, “I thought your roommate was a girl.”

Frankie holds back a burst of laughter tingling in his throat, then looks between the two of you as you furrow your brow at Rory and shake your head, “I never said my roommate was a girl.”

“Nice to meet you, man,” Frankie says to Rory, then starts towards the bathroom again and murmurs, “Excuse me.”

It’s so quiet, he doesn’t even notice you when he shuffles into the living room. You’re all cuddled up on the couch in a blanket, reading Doctor Sleep. He stops in his tracks and his heart works quickly to saturate his blood with adrenaline.

“Oh—um, sorry, I didn’t realize—I can, uhh,” Frankie stammers, then turns around to go back to his room.

You scoff and glance up at him, “You can be out here, I don’t care.”

“Ok,” he says, and makes his way over to the opposite end of the couch. He plops down and sighs, once again unsure what to do with himself.

His skin is tight and itchy. He runs his thick, tingling tongue along the backs of his teeth. Your quiet presence is not helping. He wishes you would say anything. Anything to get his mind to stop racing.

All he can think about is you and Rory and the your concession to not have sex while he’s in the house and “let me know when you’re on your way home” and the bubbled up laughter under your closed door and his pile of duffel bags in the corner of your guest bedroom and “I thought your roommate was a girl” and the little patch of red bruised skin he sees now at the crook of your neck and he needs to leave you alone and in a different way he needs to have been the one to leave that mark on you and he needs to fucking leave you alone and he needs to fucking leave—

Panic hums steady and hot through his veins. He can’t fucking stand it anymore. It’s too fucking much. All of it.

He just needs to escape it.

His body moves on instinct alone. Bringing him to his feet. Rushing him out the front door and into the street.

He walks. Without knowing where he’s going or what’s around him. Without feeling the asphalt denting his bare feet.

He just keeps pressing forward, away, away, away from everything.

He passes a house party that spilled out onto the front lawn. A few of the drunks try to get his attention, but their calls are background noise as he walks.

A loud THUMP sounds from a mortar as it launches a firework shell into the air. It explodes with a deafening BANG. Bright flashes of white streaks sizzle across the night sky.

Frankie ducks for cover.

When the explosion fades, he checks his person for his rifle but it’s not there. Bile rises in his throat. He stays low to the ground and in the shadows as he moves away from the enemy fire. Spots a break in the row of houses and slips away into the black void. Engulfs himself in darkness and lets his eyes adjust.

Shelter. He needs to find shelter.

He scans the area and spots a playground. A park shelter. Picnic tables. Wood chips rustle beneath his feet as he heads for the playground, eyeing a plastic tunnel that bridges the gap between two sections of metallic mountains.

“Frankie?!” someone calls, “Francisco?”

He crouches down behind the playground’s platform steps and observes the source of the noise.

It’s you.

Standing under the golden glow of a streetlight, turning yourself in a circle as you run a hand through your hair and squint at the night surrounding you.

What the fuck are you doing here?

thump

BANG!

You yelp and jump away from the noise. Red streaks of light flash across the sky.

“GET DOWN!” he hollers, and his body launches into action, sprinting towards you, completely aware of the danger he’s putting himself in by giving away his position. All he can think is that he needs to save you, get you somewhere safe, because he cannot fucking lose you.

You spin towards his voice. The firework sizzles to a stop.

Frankie reaches the edge of the streetlight’s glow and out stretches his hand to you, “We need to go, come on, let’s go—”

“Frankie—what?” you take a few steps towards him and furrow your brow, “What happened, why did you—”

“Don’t have fucking time for this, come on,” he grabs you by the wrist and starts dragging you behind him.

You dig in your heels and protest, “Hey, stop it—what the fuck—”

He whips himself around and grabs you by the shoulders, speaking frantically, eyes darting behind you into the street, “Listen, right now, we gotta fucking go, they’re right behind us, please—”

His throat tightens into a a tourniquet that cuts off his begging. Your shoulders slump and you nod, “Ok.”

Frankie grabs your hand and crouches low as he takes quiet steps through the park, past the playground, around a cluster of picnic tables, deeper and deeper into the darkness, until the only light is from the half moon above.

“Frankie,” you croak out from behind him. Your grip tightens on his hand, “Hey, look at me.”

He turns and surveys the area before trying to meet your gaze. His eyes don’t cooperate. They remain vigilant against the impending threat and flit all around. His heart hammers at the walls of his chest. Skin raw, nerve endings exposed, like the top layer sloughed off his body.

“Ok, ok let’s see,” you mumble to yourself, take a deep breath and look around, then turn to him and ask, “What, um, what are some of the things you can see? List them for me.”

He starts naming things off as he spots them, “Picnic table. Tree. Rock. Swingset. Slide. House—”

“Ok, good, now um… what do you smell?”

When he inhales deep through his nose, he identifies the woody, cool aroma of tea tree oil and mint, then frowns, “Shampoo and conditioner.”

“Good, what else?”

His lungs expand, and he concentrates on a bright, crisp scent like fresh laundry and sunshine, “Your perfume.”

“What do you hear?”

He tunes in to the sounds surrounding him, twisting the dial to here and now, surprised to discover a chorus of croaking, and murmurs, “Frogs. A lot of fucking frogs.”

You chuckle at this and nod, “Perfect, ok, what do you feel?”

“Scared,” he answers with a thick swallow.

“Oh—um, I mean,” you squeeze his hand, “Do you feel that?”

The place where your palms meet is sweaty and hot. He squeezes back, “Yeah.”

“Hey,” you murmur. He meets your eyes. They’re all shiny from the moon above, and you bringing your free hand to his cheek, “We’re safe, ok? I got you.”

Something about the way you say this. So sincere and compassionate. It’s a pebble hitting a windshield at just the right angle and velocity.

It fucking shatters him.

Tingles spread cross his chest and up his throat, settling behind his eyes. His vision goes blurry. His ribcage gives under the pressure of his sorrow and discontent. The air squeezes from his lungs in a wheeze.

Frankie’s head hangs loose and he shakes it back and forth, “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

You rub your thumb against his cheek and breathe, “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“That is bullshit and you know it,” he chokes out, “You—you know better than anyone. I’m fucking broken.”

“Hey hey hey eyes on me,” you coo. He blinks hot tears away, then levels his gaze with yours, and you tell him, “You are not broken, Frankie. Fucked up things happened to you. That’s not your fault.”

“But what I did to you—and, and what I did to Angie—fuck, I fucked everything up. I fucked up so bad. And I don’t know what to do, it’s all so fucking,” he inhales a sharp, shattered breath and drops his eyes, “I don’t know. I don’t think I can fix it. Sometimes I think it would be better… if—if nobody had to deal with me.”

“That is not fucking true,” you snap, then wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He returns the embrace, releasing an onslaught of sobs as you start petting his hair and whisper, “It’s going to be ok. I—I know it’s hard doing all this stuff, and not being with your family, but I promise you’re not a burden. To me or—or to Angie, or anyone.”

“I am, though,” he sniffles, “If I go to prison, she’s going to move Sarah away—I’ll never see her. I can’t live with that.”

You squeeze him tighter and continue to stroke his hair, “We don’t know that any of those things will happen.”

“And you—fuck,” he shakes his head as his chest heaves, “I’m so sorry. I was a fucking monster to you. Should’ve left you alone.”

“I forgive you, Frankie,” you breathe.

“Why?” he chokes out past the lump in his throat, “Why are you so good to me?”

You sigh and sit with this question for a moment, then answer, “Because your soul is made of the same stuff as mine. I see you. And I know that you’re good.”

His gut reaction is to deny it. To shove you away at an arm’s length like he’s tried to do time and time again.

Instead, he chooses to allow the warmth of your words settle on his shoulders like a blanket. He nuzzles against you and rasps, “Thank you.”

You hum in acknowledgment, then take a deep, shaky breath and ask, “Are you ready to go home?”

Frankie sniffles and nods. You pull back and study his face. Moonlight shines off your wet cheeks. He reels in the urge to kiss you. The restraint clutches his heart in a vice grip.

He takes a step back and looks around, trying to gain his bearings. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers as you start towards the street.

Frankie is still holding your hand when he follows you through the front door. You let go of him and turn around to ask, “Are you going to bed, or will you be up for a while?”

He looks from his empty palm to your face, “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep for a while. Why?”

“Wanna watch a movie?” you kick off your sandals towards the door.

“Yeah,” he glances down at his damp, dirty feet, “I just, um… give me a minute.”

When he joins you on the couch, you’re curled up in a little ball at one end, a blanket wrapped around your body like a cocoon. You’re frowning at the TV, flipping through options, then you toss the remote to him, “You pick one.”

Frankie groans and grabs the remote, picking up where you left off, in the Comedy section of Netflix.

“Oh my fucking god,” you mutter at your phone screen and shake your head.

“What?” he glances sideways at you.

You roll your eyes, “Rory is being dumb. He’s mad that I didn’t tell him you’re a guy.”

“Ah,” Frankie nods and looks back at the TV, “I’m guessing he doesn’t know about the other stuff, then, either.”

“Nope,” you say as you click-clack a response and press send, “It’s not his fucking business.”

He raises an eyebrow and chuckles.

You glare at him, “What?”

“Nothing,” he smirks, then presses his fingertips to his lips.

“Tell me.”

Frankie swings his gaze to yours and shrugs, “If he had a roommate with our history, wouldn’t you be concerned?”

Your lip curls into a scowl and you blink rapidly, probably in annoyance, but you don’t come up with a counter argument.

He hums and turns back to the TV.

“Shut up,” you snort, then mumble to yourself, “Whatever, he can deal with it or not, I don’t really care.”

“What, you don’t like him?” Frankie asks, but is careful not to look at you. He doesn’t want to seem too interested in your answer.

“He’s ok,” you respond blandly, then wait a few hesitant beats before telling him, “There’s nothing wrong, but it doesn’t feel right, either, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” he nods, his heart skipping a beat at the admission.

A silence settles over the couch for a few long seconds, then you inquire, “Is that how you felt with me? Like it wasn’t right?”

The arm holding the remote control drops to his leg and he turns to study your face, furrowing his brow in confusion, “No.”

You don’t look at him, just chew away at your bottom lip, deep in thought.

“That was the problem,” Frankie explains, shaking his head, “It felt so right. But—but it was wrong.”

“Yeah,” you whisper and fold your arms across your chest, then release a heavy sigh, “Sorry. Anyway.”

He brings his attention back to the TV, murmuring, “I know what we should watch.”

When he finds it and presses play, you start giggling immediately, “Oh my god, seriously?”

“There’s no way we can be sad saps while watching Austin Powers,” Frankie reasons with a grin, then puts on his best impression of the international man of mystery, “Yeah, baby!”

You laugh and shake your head, “So dumb,” then unravel the blanket around you, tossing part of it across the couch to him.

He scoots closer and you stretch your legs out over his lap. His hands rest on your knees atop the blanket.

And, as much as he wants to lose himself in the ridiculous movie, the contact between your bodies holds all his attention. His confession, that it always felt right with you, eats away at his brain. That’s what the problem is.

Fuck, when he finally had an opportunity to kiss you, it consumed him. While Angie was nursing her hangover the next day, he was thinking about when he could kiss you again. Whether or not he should was barely a factor. He had to have you.

When he came home from work the Monday after the kiss, you were a nervous wreck. He drank two tumblers of whiskey and tended to Sarah as you tiptoed around the kitchen making dinner. Sarah fell asleep while drinking a bottle, so he laid her down in her crib, then made his way into the kitchen. He leaned his back against the counter next to you.

You didn’t acknowledge his presence, just kept your eyes on the vegetables you were dicing. But he could see your hands trembling.

“Hey,” he called for your attention, feeling emboldened by the whiskey buzzing in his veins.

You stopped chopping, but didn’t look at him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked.

“No,” you responded immediately, but sat in the quiet for a moment before correcting yourself, “I mean, I don’t know.” You set the knife down and turned towards him, averting your eyes the floor. Your teeth caught your bottom lip, then you pressed your eyebrows together, “I guess… I don’t know. I’m sorry for, um… Kissing you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured, “I don’t regret it.”

“You don’t?” your eyes flicked to his.

Frankie shook his head, dropping his gaze to your lips, “Do you?”

“No,” you whispered and searched his face, leaning in towards him like you felt the pull, too.

He inched closer, bringing his hand to your waist, and your eyelids fluttered closed as he captured your lips in his. His pulse jumped at the contact, filling him with a hot, overwhelming need.

He backed you against the kitchen counter and cupped your cheeks with his palms, kissing you with fire. You responded with equal fervor, gripping his shirt as you pulled him closer. Your tongue writhed against his, the muscle so soft and luscious, a groan sounded from the back of his throat.

Your hands tangled in his hair, knocking the hat off his head and onto the floor. When you parted your lips from his to breathe, “Are you sure?” He responded by dropping open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sliding eager fingertips up your shirt, against the tender skin of your abdomen.

You let out a sharp giggle and he stopped to meet your eyes with a grin, “Ticklish?”

A wide smile spread across your face and you covered it with your hand as you nodded.

Frankie grazed your belly again, savoring the laughter that bubbled from your throat. His heart swelled. He kissed you, bringing his touch further up your shirt, confirming his suspicion that you weren’t wearing a bra.

You gasped as he cupped your breasts and brushed his thumbs against your nipples. The noise fueled him. He lifted your shirt and you pulled it off as he brought his mouth to one side, groaning at the feel of your hardened bud against his tongue. Your fingers carded through his hair and you let out quiet little whimpers as he moved to the other side.

His lips pressed against your sternum and worked down the prime meridian of your body, leaving gleaming pools in their wake. Your giggles turned to airy moans. Grip tightened into fists in his hair.

When he reached the waistband of your yoga pants, you tugged it down without hesitation. He helped you peel them off, then ushered you onto the countertop and parted your legs, smoothing his palms against your thighs, moving his eyes over every inch of your bare skin in broad daylight, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“What?” you panted, tugging at his shirt.

“I mean,” he chuckled and shook his head, lightly dragging his fingers along your crease, then dropped his voice to a purr, “You’re so fucking hot.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, slow and deep, while he spread your legs wider, drawing tight circles on your swollen clit. He swallowed your whimpers whole, each one fueling the burning desire raging inside him. Your head fell back with a moan, breaking the kiss, and he dropped to his knees, burying his face between your legs.

“Holy fuck—” you choked out and leaned back onto your elbows. He looked up at you as he started rolling his tongue against your clit, groaning at the way your face twisted up with pleasure, eyelids fluttering shut, lips pouting out into an O, brows pressing together.

You started working your hips against him, so he flattened his tongue, letting you rub your pussy on his mouth. His pulse roared in his ears and his fingers dug into the tender skin of your thighs. You grabbed his hair and pulled him even closer, moaning and gasping, skin growing hot to the touch.

“Frankie, put your fingers inside me, please please please,” you begged. He moaned at the request, then granted it, sliding two thick fingers inside you.

“Fuck me with them,” you rasped, and when he started driving into you, hard and fast, you squeaked out, “Yes yes yes yes—Fuck, oh fuck—”

He had to hold himself back from the edge of oblivion, but moaned against your slick, glistening pussy as your moans grew airy and frantic, then disappeared from your throat completely. Your whole body started shaking and your thighs clamped down around his head.

You resumed your breathing with a choked sob, and your cunt fluttered around his fingers as you came.

“Oh my god,” you panted, then started grabbing at his shirt, pulling him to his feet, bringing your lips to his, and asked between messy kisses, “Will you fuck me? Please?”

“You want me to fuck you?“ he purred, just to hear your little whimper as you nodded in response. You grabbed his belt and unfastened it, then he tugged at his pants until they dropped to the floor. With no thought about birth control, or his wife, or your job, or anything, really, he positioned himself at the entrance of your swollen, needy cunt and drove his hips forward.

“Holy shit, Frankie,” you moaned and brought your hands at the nape of his neck, grabbing at his hair, sending a ripple of pleasure down his spine.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, pumping into your heat at a slow tempo, trying to calm the fire building at his center, “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking tight.”

“That’s—fuck that’s so good,” you breathed, eyelids fluttering closed as you pressed your sweaty forehead against his, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

This confession—that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you—pulled a groan from his throat. He brought his hand between your legs to work your clit. You whimpered and started rolling your hips against his. The hot, wet squeeze of you, taking more and more of him with each thrust, sent his heart sprinting.

“Holy fuck,” he panted, digging his fingers into your waist, “Your pussy—it’s fucking perfect, Jesus Christ—”

“Yeah, you like this pussy?” you whined.

“Fuck yes,” he rasped, snapping his hips up into you, working your clit faster, “Take me so fucking good, baby, holy shit.”

This caused you to moan, and he wondered out loud, “Do you like that? You like when I tell you how good you’re doing?”

“Uh huh,” you gasped and nodded in response.

“Such a sweet, pretty girl,” he husked, “Fucking me so good, oh my god, baby.”

You whimpered and picked up your tempo, so he did too, driving into you with frenzied thrusts, pulse pounding hot, ecstasy searing beneath his skin. Your lips captured his in a messy kiss that pulled a moan from his chest. He pressed his forehead against yours and whispered, “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, baby?”

“Yes yes yes yes,” you gasped out, voice climbing higher and higher.

He began pounding into you then, rubbing you harder, faster, pressing his lips against yours, wanting to fucking consume you, wanting to never stop feeling that all-consuming bliss that was bubbling at the base of his spine. You cried out and convulsed around him just as he fell over the edge, plummeting into a pit of pleasure so deep and hard, it made him gasp against your mouth, “Holy fuck—” as he spilled inside your pulsing walls.

You slackened and nuzzled into his neck while he pulled you into an embrace, resting his cheek against the top of your head.

Going into this, he thought maybe his yearning for you would cease once he fucked you. Which might have made the situation awkward, but at least you’d stop plaguing his mind. He also thought he’d probably feel guilty for cheating on Angie. And he did… kind of. Although it paled in comparison to the guilt he felt about other atrocities he’s committed.

But what happened was so much worse.

As you melted together there on the kitchen counter, heads filled with helium and limbs made of lead, Frankie felt something shimmer in his chest, this palpable connection between your bodies. His stomach flipped upside down.

When he pulled back and searched your face, he recognized the sentiment mirrored in your eyes. Your hands linked at the back of his neck, and he kissed you. It was like maple syrup, slow moving and saccharine. It sparked something inside him.

“Frankie,” you murmur and poke his side.

He blinks and raises his eyebrows at you in question, “Hmm?”

“Are you ok?” you glance at the TV, then back at him, “You didn’t even laugh at the stupid part where he pees for like a minute straight.”

This makes him smile, then as it fades he shakes his head, “Sorry, I um… I don’t know, I feel far away.”

“Do you wanna lay down with me?”

He taps his fingers to his lips and shrugs, “Do you wanna lay down with me?”

You roll your eyes and lace your voice with sarcasm, “No, that’s why I asked you.”

“Ok, smartass, scoot over,” he teases. You grin at this, rolling on your side as he slots in behind you. He slides one arm under your head and the other settles at your side. You settle in against him and he pulls you closer, murmuring, “Is this alright?”

“Yeah,” you respond, then release a deep breath that grazes his skin.

He watches the screen for a while, but he’s distracted by your body buzzing in time with his. His throat tightens when he replays the night’s events in his head.

“Hey,” he rumbles, and you tilt your head up towards him, “Thank you for helping me out tonight. I appreciate it.”

You smile and turn back towards the TV, then intertwine your fingers with his, “No problem.”

You’re still picking at a pile of french fries when you ask Frankie, “Do you want me to talk about the uncomfortable thing or the exciting thing first?”

He looks up and studies your face. Your cheek is all pulled in on one side like you’re gnawing away at it, eyebrows knit together with worry.

“Let’s end on a high note,” he answers, then wipes his mouth with a napkin and throws it on his empty plate.

You release a deep sigh and nod, then flick your eyes to his, “Do you remember last night, when you told me that you don’t think you can fix it? And that, um… you think it would be better if you weren’t around?”

He nods and shifts in his seat, leaning his elbows against the table. The reminder of his breakdown churns his stomach.

“I just want you to know that it’ll get better. I promise it will. And—and you don’t have to do it alone,” you pause here, creasing your brow deeper as you frown down at the table, then look back up at him. “I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

You shouldn’t have to be.

That’s the only message his brain broadcasts. But he nods again.

“I know sometimes… life seems impossible to navigate, but, it’ll all work out. Maybe it won’t all get ‘fixed,’ but it’ll work out. Que sera, sera,” you fix your gaze on his, boring your eyes straight into his soul, “I’m happy you’re here.”

An ache radiates across his chest and squeezes the air from his lungs. He croaks out, “Thank you, sweetheart.”

You give him a wistful smile, then look around and sigh, “Any grievances or whatever that you’d like to air?”

None that I can rightfully say out loud.

“Yeah, can you remember to clean out the lint trap before you start the dryer? You’re gonna set the goddamn house on fire,” Frankie leans back in his chair and grins.

“Ok, Dad,” you snort, “Anything else?”

Frankie frowns and glances up at the dusty ceiling fan in thought, “When’s the last time you changed the air filters in here?”

“Oh my god, ok,” you stand up and pad over to the refrigerator, “By all means, feel free to maintenance the house while you’re living here.”

You pull an ice cream cake out of the freezer and bring it over to the table.

“What’s this for?” he furrows his brow at you.

You shrug as you lift the cake’s plastic dome off, “You’re 30 days sober.”

It takes a moment for everything to hit him. The fact that he’s 30 days sober. That you care enough to keep track. That you care enough to get him a fucking ice cream cake to celebrate his sobriety.

Warmth washes over him in a shimmering flash of light. It tingles in his limbs and sends his heart racing. His mouth gapes open and he shakes his head, then manages to say, “Thank you.”

[ Next Chapter ]

MORE NOTES: I found a lot of inspiration for this chapter from the book "THE RECOVERING" by Leslie Jamison, the poem “I DON’T NEED TO HAVE A BETTER DAY, I NEED TO FEEL BETTER ABOUT THIS ONE” by Neil Hilborn, and so many of the songs on my Spotify playlist for this series, but specifically the song "JESUS CHRIST" by Brand New. If you have any songs you think I should add to my Spotify playlist for this series, send it to me pleaaaase. Thank you!!

#designated person #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #frankie morales x ofc #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader

[ohnococo]

🤍: SFW 🖤: NSFW 💛: New [Up to date as of 02/02/2024]

Fics

Magpie | Toji Fushiguro x F!Reader || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 - Leaving you high and dry, taking you at your worst, fucking you on your wedding day. Moments in your tumultuous relationship with Toji, and the person you become because of it. 🖤

Gunshow | Toji Fushiguro x F!Reader [Gunplay] - A mysterious and violent stranger at your local dive awakens a new kink in you. 🖤

Give and Take | Toji Fushiguro x Vampire!Reader - You need to feed as much as any other vampire. Lucky for you, you have donors like Toji, a man that offers more than most. 🖤

Gratitude | Kiyotaka Ijichi x F!Reader || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 [Praise Kink] - Ijichi is sweet, considerate, cute… you just have to show your appreciation. 🖤

Fight Night | MMA Fighter!Ryomen Sukuna x F!Reader || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 - You weren't familiar with Infamous MMA Fighter Ryomen 'The King' Sukuna when he entered the club, but he certainly wants to become familiar with you. 🖤💛

Between Water and Wind | Satoru Gojo x F!Reader - Sukuna isn't good for you, you know this, Gojo knows this. You can't leave him though, so instead you'll seek comfort in Gojo's arms in secret, even as he asks you to want better for yourself. 🖤💛

Eyes on You | MMA Fighter!Ryomen Sukuna x Scientist F!Reader - Sukuna takes a keen interest in you after a meeting discussing having him promote the protein powder you helped develop. 🖤💛

Right on Time | Takuma Ino x F!Reader - You get stuck in traffic with your boyfriend, Ino, on the way to his mentor's birthday dinner. It's not the right time or place, but you just can't keep your hands to yourselves. 🖤💛

Headcanons

Toji Fushiguro NSFW Headcanons 🖤

Toji Fushiguro x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons 🤍

Pining Toji Fushiguro HCs 🖤

Takuma Ino NSFW HCs 🖤

Kiyotaka Ijichi Relationship HCs 🖤💛

Having a Sweet, Girly, & Childish S/O Headcanons [Nanami & Gojo] 🖤

Nudes/Lewds Headcanons [Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Choso, Yaga, Ijichi] 🖤

MMA Fighter AU Headcanons [Toji, Geto, Gojo, Sukuna] 🤍

Pining Hiromi Higuruma HCs 🖤

Dating Co-Worker Hiromi Higuruma HCs 🖤

Restaurant AU - Dating JJK Co-Workers [Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, & Sukuna] 🖤

Service top Gojo 🖤

NSFW Alphabets

Takuma Ino | NSFW Alphabet [Complete] 🖤💛

Choso | NSFW Alphabet [Complete] 🖤

Kento Nanami | NSFW Alphabet [Complete] 🖤

Satoru Gojo | NSFW Alphabet [Complete] 🖤

Kiyotaka Ijichi | NSFW Alphabet [Complete] 🖤

Hiromi Higuruma | SFW & NSFW Alphabet [SFW: A, C, J, & K // NSFW: D, K, M, & O] 🖤

Suguru Geto | SFW Alphabet [N, R, & Z] 🤍

Suguru Geto | NSFW Alphabet [C, D, E, F, & K] 🖤💛

Scenarios/Drabbles

Car Sex with Ino 🖤

Choso x Femdom 🖤

Soft Vanilla Sex with Ijichi 🖤

Sub!Ijichi Getting Pegged 🖤

"Open your mouth for me, baby." | Kento Nanami x Reader [Quote Challenge] 🖤

"Are you holding back? Don't." | Satoru Gojo x Reader [Quote Challenge] 🖤

"Does it make you nervous when I stare?" | Choso x Reader [Quote Challenge] 🖤

"You know i'm holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don't push your luck." | Toji x Reader [Quote Challenge] 🖤

JJK Thirst - Random thoughts, blurbs, rants, and interactions thirsting for characters. Things too short or casual to really call a drabble or headcanon post.

Old Masterlists - from fixations past

#masterlist #my writing #updates #if i manage to delve into non-jjk i'll rework this #hopefully the links all work ya girl is OUT of practice with how tf to use tumblr ;-;

[im-not-batman]

ummmmm, Ronance cars AU??? (I am so intrigued)

This one is so silly i love it! It's exactly what it says on the tin. I havent got anything coherent written for it but i have bullet points and lots of notes. So here you go! I apologise in advance, i write these usually when im high or jacked up on inspiration so theyre always a bit chaotic lmao

Crack treated dead seriously - based on art by @logicallyserial (i think their art is steddie though, and i coopted it for ronance purposes)

~Robin is a famous F1/Nascar/Stock racer who is driving cross country because she wanted to drive her super fancy car instead of getting a plane. She is speeding and then her tyre pops on a stone or something and she loses control of the car crashing into smthn and is stranded in Radiator Springs (Hawkins).

~Steve is Mater and fixes the car up

~Dustin has to be there like, legally , but idfk who he'd beeeee

~Joyce is Doc because bad bitch etc etc

~Hop is the Sheriff (sidenote are there Doc Hudson x Sherriff shippers out there??)

~Nancy is Sally obv - she runs the motel in town with her family but Nancy is the one usually working. Things play out like in the animated masterpiece Cars (2003), Nancy convinces Joyce that Robin should pay to fix the road or at least do some community service. She ends up thirsting over sweaty road worker robin because lbr who wouldnt.

~ stobin bonding moments! (Is cow tipping a thing people actually do?? Ask Crispy) steve teaches robin to drive backwards like in the animated masterpiece Cars (2003)

~Robin's big race is against Henry/vecna/one – who is all gross and sexist about her being the first woman since the sport became co-ed – and Eddie who is an ex champion, is super lobely but wants to retire because he's racking up injuries.

~Will is Ramon

~I guess that makes Mike Flo even though I will NOt write Byler

~Argyle is obviously the stoner Camper so Jon is the Army guy?

~ Lucas is Luigi!!! Max is the forklift guy I canny remember his name!!!! Gordo??

~EL IS RED EL IS RED EL IS RED

~ In the end everyone comes to Robin's big race à la the animated masterpiece Cars (2003) and Robin makes her base camp Hawkins for the rest of her career, she and Nancy fall in LOOoooOove etc etc

(mayhaps some circumstantial steddie towards the end. Robin tells Eddie that Hawkins is a pretty cute town to retire in if you ignore most of it lol. Eddie is intrigued and visits, meets hot mechanic steve)

Send me an ask with which of my WIPs from This Post you wanna hear about!

#stranger things #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #cars au #cars 2006 #roo answers

[camille09hart]

Lately, I've been feeling extremely frustrated with where the MCU is going (as do a lot of people at this point) and I honestly think its strengths now lie in the darker, occult aspects of the comics. No more of this kiddie stuff. What people really want is good old fashion horror sci-fi in these movies. Aspects of The Multiverse of Madness had it, as well as the special Werewolf By Night.

Here is a synopsis I wrote about a potential Midnight Sons(or Suns) movie. This is simply what I personally would like to see happen in a Midnight Sons film, based on what we've already seen and certain characters introduce, or will surely be introduced in the future.

*

Blade, Jack Russell (Werewolf by night) Dane Whitman and Marc Spector all visit Doctor Strange at some point for various questions about the occult: Marc/Steven, after figuring out that Khonshu is still bonded to them despite begging him to release him from their soul, are plunged into their astral forms with Strange’s help to confront Khonshu and the third, ruthless identity, Jake Lockley. Jack inquires about trying to control himself during his transformation while Blade asks Strange about the whereabouts of vampires.

Annoyed with the overabundance of demands and worried about incursions that may still be happening, Strange dismisses them all, only for the sanctum to be attacked by a hoard of vampires looking for Strange. Jack can’t transform due to it being daytime while Marc is unable to summon the suit due to Khonshu no longer being bonded with him. Blade, Dane and Doctor Strange fight off the vampires, until its leader, The Blood Baron, reveals himself to Stephen as his long-supposedly dead younger brother: Victor Strange. Victor subdues the shocked Stephen and kidnaps him. The vampires depart, leaving behind the rest of the band in confusion. Clea arrives and demands they rescue him, despite the gang’s reluctance.

It is revealed that Victor has caged Johnny Blaze, AKA The Ghost Rider, and plans to use him and Stephen Strange to take over the world. Victor had died in a car crash, after all of their family had recently died, first Donna and then their parents. Stephen, completely grief stricken, has his brother’s body put in a cryogenic sleep, hoping that technology in the future could revive him. When a doctor accidentally gives him vampire serum, Victor transforms himself into a vampire, kills all the doctors and becomes extremely powerful and develops a thirst for control . Victor takes advantage of Stephen’s guilt over having put him in the cryogenic sleep in the first place, and encourages him to rule with him.

Clea rallies up The Midnight Sons, getting Marc his suit back, and Jack bringing Man Thing along, to rescue Stephen. But this will prove to be extremely tricky. As not only do they have to face Victor Strange’s army as well as the Ghost Rider, but not all of them can be trusted due to different kinds of corruption in their DNA/Souls.

Stephen unsuccessfully tries to reason with Victor to resign his plan, so they end up in a fight. Because Stephen keeps holding back on really hurting his brother, Victor overpowers and badly injures him. Victor is disappointed by his lack of ruthlessness, and points out that taking risks did not stop him before. Clea and the Midnight Sons attack the compound. Victor releases The Ghost Rider to attack the Sons, but instead, Ghost Rider turns on Victor. Before killing him, Stephen tries to stop him, not wanting to lose another family member, especially twice. Clea comforts him, reminds him not to be afraid and that he cannot save anyone. Stephen reluctantly accepts and Ghost Rider kills him.

Traumatised, but grateful, Stephen thanks The Midnight Sons for their help and offers to grant them any information about their needs. Marc/Steven is once again released by Khonshu, but, with Jake still around, can summon the suit anytime. Jack Russell begins his research on his condition. Blade and Dane go on a new adventure to slay other covens of vampires, with Dane now officially adopting the identity of The Black Knight. Stephen and Clea become an item, falling in love.

Extra scene: Johnny Blaze seeks out a drug gang and kills all but the ringleader, who is revealed to be Mephisto, the demon who turned him into the Ghost Rider for a favour.

#doctor strange #The Midnight Sons #ghost rider #Blade #The Black Knight #Werewolf by night #Moon Knight #Clea #Victor Strange #Man Thing #occult #mcu fandom #mcu fic #fanfic #fancast #mephisto #monsters #vampires #khonshu #marvel #marvel fanfic idea

[ourbygoneage]

Chapter 5: The Rooftop Plan Verse 3

The sound of the gunshot echoed through the parking lot, and the zombies start to stir. They had been marching in step with the music, but now they break formation and start to wander aimlessly. Some of them move towards Tailor and Rachelle, but others seem to be drawn towards the source of the gunshot.

Erzabet jumps off the hood of her Mustang and puts her hand to her chest, looking at the blood that's soaking through her shirt. She curses under her breath and quickly climbs into the driver's seat of her car. With one hand, she starts the engine and revs it loudly. The zombies turn towards the sound and start to shuffle towards the car.

Erzabet revved the engine again and the zombies started to pick up their pace. They ran towards the Mustang, lurching and shuffling as they went. With a screech of tires, Erzabet threw the car into gear and the car shot forward and crashed through the front of Jerry Co, sending glass and debris flying in all directions.

Tailor and Rachelle quickly ran down the stairs and reached the ground floor. Tailor quickly moved towards the back of the store and pulled a large lever that he had installed. The lever activated the emergency lockdown mechanism of the store, causing metal grates to descend over all the windows and doors, securing the building from the outside. However, as the lockdown mechanism engaged, they realized that the plywood they had placed over the front window was now crushed under the totaled mustang that Erzabet had driven through the front of Jerry Co.

As Tailor and Rachelle watched in horror, Erzabet stumbled out of the mustang and struggled to her feet. Her right hand was badly injured and her phylactery, the source of her control over the zombies, lay shattered on the ground. The zombies, no longer under her control, were starting to close in on the wreckage. Erzabet rolled the mustang off the plywood, covering the front window of Jerry Co. Despite her injury, she stood up, all of four feet tall with a fierce determination in her eyes. She didn't seem to be phased by the weight of the car or her injured hand. She turned and snarled in rage, her eyes locking onto Tailor and Rachelle. With a roar, she charged towards them, fueled by adrenaline and a thirst for revenge. Tailor and Rachelle braced themselves for the impact, but at the last moment, Erzabet stumbled and fell to her knees, her strength finally depleted.

Tailor and Rachelle watched as the zombies relentlessly banged on the walls, doors, and security shutters, their pounding growing more and more frenzied by the second. Meanwhile, Erzabet, looking utterly exhausted, sat on the ground with her eyes closed, breathing heavily.

Rachelle tentatively approached her, asking, "Erzabet, what did you use to control the zombies?"

Erzabet looked up at Rachelle, her eyes unfocused. "A phylactery," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tailor's eyebrows shot up. "A phylactery? Like in Dungeons and Dragons?"

Erzabet gave a small nod. "Yes, it's an object that allows me to control the undead."

Tailor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "And where is it now?"

Erzabet gestured weakly towards the pile of rubble where the mustang had crashed through the front of the store. "It's destroyed. When you shot my hand, the phylactery was destroyed with it. The zombies are no longer under my control."

#Writeblr #science fiction #writing #vampire #survival horror #romance #trans protagonist #lgbtq+ #trans #transgender #trans man #writblr #chronological

[formula-what]

HEY! So. apparently intrusive thoughts in an adhd thing! So. That’s Fun! at least I kinda know what the FUCK this is all about.

#sarcasm clearly #we’re figuring things out okay #also since tumblr added a read more to the app I will be exercising my right pretty liberally #I’ll put all my mental health rants under it #so avoid those #If you want me to tag them so u can blacklist it I will #I understand that this is a motosport blog #for thirsting over cars and co #so I try to keep it at a minimum away #just #I have no one to talk to about these things? and sometimes just writing them down doesn’t help? I need them to Go Somewhere #oh maybe I should make a trash blog for shit like this #just to make posts and throw them away #Idk I’ll think about it #and I’m ranting #sorry

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ MILKYWAY

tw. dubcon, a/b/o terms, size kink, captivity, creampie, breeding, knotting, subby virgin reader, biting, a lot of whining and crying, noncon mating, mention of blood, corruption, praise wordcount. 7.3k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by the amazing stunning @my-reality-is-in-my-head ♡ thank you so so much for commissioning me it was so much fun to write and thirst over tsumu and you're just lovely and aHHH i hope it lives up to what you had in your head my love mwuah mwuah this was so much funnn

miya atsumu x fem!reader

If tiny villages are tight knit, you suppose that this place is sewn shut and drilled over— to extend the metaphor.

You enjoy it, though it’s easy to feel out of the norm. A little like a shiny new toy as people gawk from the sidewalks. The older man helps take your luggage out of the back of his rattling bucket of a car before you have the chance to stop him when he drops you off. He only gives a kind nod, before pulling his hat lower over his eyebrows and pointing you towards the house you can just about see peek out between the fields and rolling hills. Your ‘thank you’ is brushed off with the kind of nonchalance only older gentlemen can have, before he slips back into the decades old vehicle and tuffs off down the dirt road.

You stretch your arms above your head before setting off for the little walk. The hair at the base of your skull sticks to your neck under the glow of the sun. Wispies stick out like sprouts on the top of your head that you try to smooth down, only to watch them refuse to conform.

But it’s the air, like pretty much everything else here, that truly feels fresh and crisp, like only a hilltop or a small country-side village can give. It’s the smell of greenery and morning dew that fills your lungs. Your hands run over the folds in your flowy dress as you make your way up the driveway, luggage dragging behind as the sound of cicadas remain loud even from the edge of the forest.

Ever since you were little, there’s been an ever-present sense of longing for places like these, the peace and quiet welcoming you like a coming home of sorts. The grit under your heels and the warmth of the sun on your skin, everything feels like it sings for you, embracing your every step closer with a happy hum of the wind blowing through reeds. Despite your fascination with the countryside, like most kids born and raised in a big city; you do love your actual home though. You love your job and your friends, and though it’s draining, there’s no better feeling than a whole day of challenges and succeeding them so you can crash into bed at night, sated.

You love what you do, and you’re good at it; people couldn’t drag you away for long if they tried. But every few months for years now, like clockwork, you get this awful, horrible itch that no one has been able to explain away. You get irritable and needy, and everything feels sensitive to the touch for days on end. The hairs on your arms stand up and you get a feverish, insatiable feeling in the pit of your stomach that hurts to even think about. As if that’s not bad enough, it always seems to affect the people around you too. 

Male co-workers getting way too handsy, borderline aggressive in your proximity, a friend who you’d normally confide in hanging onto every word you say to the point where it’s distracting. It has something to do with your production of pheromones spiking, some specialist told you. Alas, not much can be done. You’ve learned to cope, learned to take some time to yourself when you can feel it brewing in your center. And like clockwork, every few months you isolate yourself and head out somewhere into the beautiful small town life until you can come back with a clear head.

It’s not so bad. You like to think you have a handle on your mood swings.

As you painstakingly make your way up to the traditional Japanese home, you cast a few wistful glances at the scenery. At the green edge of the woods and the small lake you can see splayed out behind the house, glittering in the morning sun. The fields of green are only cut up here and there by another house, or a patch of rice paddies. There’s no doorbell, only a little plaque that has ‘please, come on in’ written on it in pretty, loopy handwriting. As you enter, you’re announced by the little ring of a bell, smiling as a young man peeks his head out from a side room. You toe off your shoes with practiced ease as he stands to meet you.

Unassuming but handsome, his silvery hair with black ends standing up in little tufts as he swiftly wipes his hands on a towel sticking out from his maroon apron. “Hello, welcome,” the young man bows, one you return a little lower, before offering him a smile. “You called this morning, right?” He confirms, and you nod again. “Yes, come in, come in— we’re very happy to have you. Though, normally most visitors come a bit later in the year, the nights up here can be a little chilly in early spring.”

“Well,” you nod, “it was a little on purpose. I really needed some time away from people.” You run a hand along your neck as you talk, shivering a bit where your nails rake over a particularly sensitive spot and a soft, squeaked breath escapes you. The young man doesn’t say anything, but gives an understanding hum as soon as you take a little step away from him and warmth surges to your cheeks, before picking up a key and motioning into the hall.

“I can understand that. I’ll take you to your room so you can put your stuff down.” He turns and you follow behind with soft steps, craning your neck to glance past him as he walks and talks. Though his voice is gentle, he has an air of strength and understanding that surpasses him. “I’m Kita Shinsuke.”

“You work here all alone, Kita-san?” You really had to scour the internet thoroughly to even find anything about this place, let alone during a time where they don’t normally accept visitors. The bus ride from the friendly, little neighborhood to up here took almost an hour out from the nearest city. But your interest was piqued as soon as you caught wind of a fox farm in the middle of nowhere, even if you weren’t aching to get some time alone.

The floor-length window to your left shows the inner courtyard of the house, more wide open greenery that takes your breath away.

Kita shakes his head, then takes a little breath into his cheeks. “No, luckily,” he smiles. “The foxes aren’t exactly easy pets. They need a lot of care and attention. I spend most of the year working in the rice fields, but we have a few people who stay day in and out.” There’s a little sigh, before he halts in front of a door with the number 02 on it, and he turns to you. Then Kita gently picks up your free hand to press the key into it, wrapping your fingers into a ball around the cool metal. “Careful with shiny belongings, though. Our little friends have a knack for stealing trinkets you need, so keep your eye on them if you can.”

His eyes are big and a pretty brown as he meets yours. His irises catch the light almost- too much- so shiny you can see yourself in the reflection of them before he blinks. When his eyes open again, it’s gone, and you can only let your mouth drop open a hair before he steps past you. “We’ll have lunch ready for you in the main room.” A little shiver runs up your back as you stand in the empty hallway for a bit longer, before sliding the key in and turning.

Your room is small but cozy, with shoji hiding away a wonderful wooden terrace down to the lake, and a thick futon in the middle of the room. You open up all the curtains to let in the cold spring sun, paying no attention to the soft buzz you feel in your blood, a familiar heat.

+

The first few days of your stay are peaceful, almost eerily so. There lays a blanket of silence over the mountains, with only birds and the occasional old scooter to break it when it puffs past. Your stay is good, warm. The people are kind too, Aran and Ginjima visiting every other day to help out with feeding the animals that you’re lucky to catch glimpses of as you’re strolling the gardens or walking quietly onto the terrace early in the mornings.

Most of them are too sneaky and too quick, so you haven’t gotten the chance to pet many. Kita snickers when you express your distress at this fact over dinner. All except for— you look over at the pitch black fur of the creature sitting next to you on your blanket, finishing your last bite of onigiri. His name is Suna and he’s a rescue, the silver haired man had told you, and he’s just about the only tame fox they have. He remains unbothered when you drop your hand below his skull and scratch the fluffy area, barely moving to cast his narrow green eyes at you.

He already snatched your second snack earlier, and is now just laying spread out, licking his teeth and gums as he drops open his little snout.

The distractions aren’t enough to feel the familiar itch grow stronger day by day, and you make peace with the fact that you’ll have to tell Kita you are feeling feverish- offer to stay inside your room for a few days- but for now it’s enough to let you enjoy the chilly breeze tickling at the base of your neck and down your back. Across the lake, shrouded in ominous fog and darkness under the shade of the trees, two more houses stand.

Old and a few years away from decrepit, the base of the walls are covered in moss and vines, and the roof’s shingles are shiny, missing in a few places. They’re clearly no longer in use, but must have been loved dearly, judging by the thousands of charms and pendants you can still see tied to every free surface even from this distance. Even if they’re no longer serving a protecting purpose.

A body plops down next to you on the blanket, far enough to be polite— but the sudden motion makes you jump.

Your skin crawls with heat from your toes all the way to the crown of your head, itching and achy. Not wanting to appear flustered, you just tug up your shoulders a little higher as if to cover your exposed cheeks. “Ah,” a man sighs from beside you, “looks like a real mess, don’t it?” You look up, meeting round, amber eyes when you do. More heat surges through your blood and pumps through your insides. And you swallow, twice, gazing— staring into the pretty honey color before you force yourself to look away. 

The black fox that was resting next to you skitters away from under your touch. Your tongue feels puffy and heavy, but you meet the stranger’s gaze again. Trying, and failing miserably, not to stare at the deep pools of liquid crystal he seems to have for eyes. The young man gives you an intrigued smile, then pulls up his nose. “Yer new here.” It’s short, simple. But gives you a feeling of sweetness on your tongue that you desperately try to suck off when he continues. “Got a name?”

It’s a little alarming how easily you answer without so much as a blink, your name jumping off your tongue. “I’m visiting for a little while.”

The blond picks at a reed of grass as he hums, low and understanding. “How long are’ya stayin’ for? We— hah,” his eyes find yours again, and you can’t help but stare at the distracting way his pupils widen, “we don’t get ta see a lot’a Kita-san’s guests.”

“A few days,” you manage to mouth, voice far quieter than you’d like, “and you are?”

His face twists into a wolfish grin as he leans in a little, placing a hand onto your shoulder. And another wave of heat floods your system, bashing against your seams like it’s dying for release. “Miya Atsumu.” He pauses, as if searching for some recognition in your expression, before continuing— satisfied. “I live ‘ere. Help out around the farm ‘n that, so I like ta say hi to the visitors.” You’re not usually so tight-lipped. Actually, this sudden silence isn’t like you at all, but you just can’t help but hang onto his every word as he speaks, and Atsumu notices. “Yer not scared’a me, are’ya?”

You squeak when he scoots closer into you, his aroma slightly overwhelming. Dark and masculine and heavy, clinging to your palette like gum. But his smile is warm enough for you to shake your head. “No, ‘m not- s-scared, just…” You trail off to look instead back to the water, trying to ignore where his arm brushes against yours and your entire body breaks out in cold goosebumps. “What’s over there?” you motion across the lake, shivering again when he stops touching you to lick his bottom lip and follow your gaze.

“I’ll show ya,” he pushes up from the floor to extend a hand to you, eyes glittering with mirth when you don’t even hesitate to take it.

+

Atsumu is warm— too warm, you would like to say, always sends jitters through you from your head all the way to your toes. You only have to spend a few hours for a few days in his presence to be head over heels, cheeks flaring with heat at every glance your way, every joke and each time he throws an arm over your shoulder. Kita is a bit more tight-lipped when Atsumu parades you around the farm and shows up loud at dinner— but you’re a simple girl.

You’d have to be oblivious not to notice the wide shoulders and narrow taper of his waist, golden skin that shines healthily in the spring sun. His wide smile as he bends over your shoulder to steal a kiss here and there, or run swift fingers along the small of your back. He’s the definition of tall, dark and handsome- if not for the light hair that falls around his features like a halo.

He’s drop dead gorgeous. You hope you’re forgiven for whining and whimpering when he manages to get you trapped against the wall between his arms and hovers there like a tease. His biceps bulge as he cages you in below his body and whispers sweet things into your ear, kissing you in the dark corner behind the house. Trails his lips down your jaw and neck, only to switch tactics and leave you panting for more. Should he ask, you’d drop to your knees in a heartbeat— you’re sure of it.

You’ve never ever been so affected by another person in your life, and if you were a little less star-struck by his handsome smile and how well your hand fits in his, maybe you’d notice the looks. Aran and Ginjima are never too far off as you two stroll around the flowery paths, gleaming, beady eyes trailing wherever he takes you. How they sense your shift in mood whenever you get to talking. The missing items out of your bedside table. Maybe you’d notice the disapproving pull of Kita’s face whenever Atsumu grins a little wider to run his hand through your hair and expose your neck, placing little kisses on your most sensitive spot. Or hear the low growls little Suna lets out when Atsumu shoos him away from your lap, the animal receiving an icy glare.

But you’re blinded by infatuation, so you don’t. You’ve also never felt so undeniably horny either. It’s a bit sickening how a single kiss can have your panties soaked, clenching around nothing and your shirt rubbing up too much against your overly sensitive chest. 

It doesn’t last long before your hot flush gets too much. You can’t in good faith come out of your room when even thinking of Atsumu has your thighs full of slick and your clit throbbing like you’re a- dog in heat or something. You lock yourself up in your room with the curtains drawn. Your skin is feverish and your skull is full of cotton, you down two bottles of water by the time you’d normally be out for breakfast.

Ever the host, a few soft knocks come to your door. Kita’s voice sounds a little muffled, as if he’s pinching his nose when calling your name. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“Kita-san, I’m sick,” you whine at the door, trying your best not to sound absolutely miserable under thick blankets, “hot flares. I might have a bit of a fever so I’m staying in.” It’s really no use, judging by his sharp inhale.

“O-oh, I see.” It stays quiet for long enough that you think he might have left, before he drops his head to the door and hand on the knob to try it, just once. “Didn’t your doctor ever give ya’ anything against the—uhm… n-no heat suppressants or anythin’?” Your ears are doing something weird, making everything he says a little double, a little too low to be right.

“No what?”

“Fever medicine,” he tries, before letting out a deep breath. You miss the lone, sighed fuck, before he talks again. “Don’t open yer door. I’ll head to town for some pills.” You give a hum in response, your voice wobbly. “Seriously,” Kita mumbles, “don’t open this door ‘til I’m back.” Then his quick steps leave the hall, and you’re left clutching your stomach in your ball of blankets. Beads of sweat run down your temples, pussy feeling unbearably more empty by the second. For a moment you’re clear-headed enough to crawl out of your little nest to replace one of the blankets with a towel, slapping a wet rag over your forehead while you’re at it, but it’s no use.

You’re just so empty, and lonely, and you’re only half aware that you’re whining like a little baby when a few soft knocks disrupt you.

“Aw, yer whinin’ the whole neighborhood into a frenzy, pet.” The familiar voice fills your mind through the gaps around the door, and you bite your bottom lip hard. Hard enough for tears to burn behind your lids, but not hard enough to take away the feeling. It’s excruciating. Atsumu comes like a fresh wave of relief with the pain, humming softly. “It’s alright though. Open this door, ‘m gonna help it.”

“Can’t,” you gasp, tossing and turning for— something, before your hand forces itself between your legs before you can think about it. “It hurts, Tsumu.”

“Baby,” Atsumu’s voice is unreasonably calm, a knowing drawl as he taps his foot on the hardwood. “Come open it up for me, c’mon.” You bite back a whine as your fingers rub uselessly up and down over your panties, not relieving any of the pressure inside your belly— and a low rumbling sound comes from behind the door. “Pet, yer not doin’ it right.” He sounds mad, the kind of uncanny simmering under the surface that has your chest tightening. In your normal state you would probably ignore it, but right now, the last thing you want is to make him upset.

The last thing you want is to make him wait, or be away from him… and the feeling hits you like a truck. A high pitched mewl forces its way from your chest one more time before you’re pushing yourself up from your sweaty covers and waddling over to the door to unlock it. Your knees almost buckle when you step back to let it swing open, and you are forced to face the dark eyes the blond gives you. “Smart girl,” he offers after a slow up and down, before he takes a deep breath and throws his head back. And the stretch of his neck, every tick of every muscle is enough to have you keening like an animal.

If you had the capacity to care, you’d probably be some modicum of embarrassed. Only, Atsumu doesn’t care, instead crowding into your space to reach around you and grab the base of your neck, yanking you into his chest. Like you’re a small animal cornered by a predator, his pretty eyes glowing a bright, almost blinding color that you’re sure you must be imagining. They’re no less bright than the sun.

You manage to place your hands on his chest before he growls low and animalistic, nosing along your neck and shivering a little. “Sweet little omega just prancin’ around with her pussy on display, hah? Ya thought ya were gonna get away with that?” He kisses down your jaw and neck, tongue swiping out every few kisses to make you wobble your weight back and forth, before he clamps his mouth down on that one spot and sucks hard. Your entire body twitches as his tongue laves over it, cunt slicking up your panties until they’re soaked through.

“That’s it,” he pulls back with flushed lips, before dragging his tongue and teeth over the same spot a few more times, then moans. “C’mon, up up, little one.” The order is quick, and you follow it even quicker, jumping up into his arms before he has a second chance to ask. He places your face into the crook of his neck where you only feel more heat, more of those face-melting tingles that travel over your skin without pause. He smells so fucking nice, making you feel like you’re melting. His large hands clamp into the soft skin of your ass, holding you in place against his solid body.

But more concerning is the aching of your little clit as you feel his cock twitch against you, growing harder against you each step down the hall he takes. You can’t think about anything else over the static in your head, but the way he grinds into you and the gravelly tone of his voice against your cheek, swallowing spit to save yourself from whining even more. “Gon’ treat you somethin’ special, doll, ‘s a promise.” You barely hold back a moan as your sensitive pussy grinds back against his jeans for friction, before Tsumu lifts his lip one side. Teeth exposed, his gaze snaps away from you, arms tightening around your body hard.

“‘Tsumu, ya can’t take ‘er.” Another man sounds from beside you, and you can only lift your head far enough away from the blond to watch his mirror image- spare the darker hair- glare back. “Kita said ta keep yer hands off’a his guests, or we won’t be able ta stay, remember?” The obvious tension is enough to make your anxiety spike like crazy, feeling sick and sour and gross. Atsumu must sense it, because he growls louder, before basically snarling out the words next.

“And I’m tellin’ ya I don’t care, Samu. Move outta my fuckin’ way.” He lets you cling to him, before nosing along the crown of your head to place a comforting kiss there. “Don’tcha worry, doll, yer gonna be mine.” He lowers his voice to whisper along the shell of your ear, pussy clenching and thighs flexing around his waist to pull him impossibly closer. The warmth of his voice has you glowing with heat, mouth dropping open with whines. “Gonna be my little breeding bunny, right? Let me fuck ya full like a good omega takes her Alpha?” Your ‘yes, yes, yes, yes, yes’ is muffled into the fabric of his shirt, but the feverish nodding makes up for it.

The other man in the hall groans when Tsumu shoulders him out of the way though, growling just as deep and loud. “Goddamn, she’s stinkin’ up the whole place, Tsumu! Fuckin’ hell. At least make ‘er relax some.” He mumbles a few more curses under his breath as he trails behind, before Atsumu bites down on the crook of your neck a bit too hard and you yelp, eyes shooting open.

Your bottom lip wobbles as his teeth clamp down hard, only seeing how the other furrows his brows with a disapproving grimace. “Yer a dick. Yer supposed ta ask.” Atsumu doesn’t respond, biting and sucking at the painful spot until you go back limp in his arms. The brunet gives you a pitiful one over, before sucking his teeth and sitting down into the couch when you pass it. He doesn’t follow, and the blond doesn’t release your soft skin until you’re whimpering out loud and he’s cleaned you up of blood.

“Ask what, prick… She’s mine,” he grumbles to himself when he lets go of your skin to lap up at the little wound he just made, littering open mouth kisses and hickeys all over your neck. “Gon’ fuck my cum into this pussy ‘til yer full of it. Make it my cunt, huh?” You pass by the edge of the lake as he carries you all the while, legs swinging and center rubbing up against his covered, hard cock the entire time. But it’s all okay as long as you’re attached to your Alpha, heat flooding your belly and pussy with wetness and slick.

The dry stickiness of your tongue remains though, so you lift your head to kiss along his neck up to his mouth, something he greedily accepts. Both of your moans melt into the messy kisses that make your eyelids flutter and face tingle. You’re not sure when- or where you get inside, only that your entire body feels electric to the touch when Atsumu sets you down onto a mattress with pretty, plush covers and pushes you back into bed. He trails his mouth down the exposed part of your chest, grips your hips to pull you down to the edge and rubs himself against you again.

His seam catches your clit hard enough to have your legs spasm around his hips, gripping the silky bed sheets hard enough for your fingers to ache. The blond grins as he pushes your thighs apart more, then looks down at your shivering form. The heat doesn’t dissipate as your chest heaves up and down desperately for more air, more touch. But he doesn’t just give, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth to study you with his eyes. “Agh, little baby needs somethin’, yeah?”

Your need grows stronger as he teases, voice breaking when you call his name. The strong lines of his body only shift to knead your plush thighs between strong fingers, his wide chest so close but nowhere close enough. Before you can complain, he dips down, humming into the kiss. His hands trail down your body to the edge of your shirt as he kisses you hard and needy, tongue pressing down on yours. Then he mouths back down your neck. Through your teary eyes it’s hard to tell but— something about his pupils is off. More slitted than round, they pulse with each breath.

“My pet’s so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your mouth cracks open for a gasp, but then he grips your tits through your sticky shirt and you shake your head back into the pillows. “I’ll be g-good. Ah, Tsumu~” you whine out loud. Another soft chuckle sounds as he kneads your tits and flicks your nipples, “please, please, need you.”

“Samu’s not wrong. Yer scentin’ like a little bitch in heat.” His voice along your ear, your neck, it’s too much. “Y’can take what’cha want.” It’s so hot, yet your body feels cold when he drags his blunt nails down your thighs, rutting himself against you long enough for your pants to create a wet spot on his crotch. You only notice your hands are shaking badly when you grip his waistband and fight to undo his zipper. “Uh huh, good girl. Ya wanna see what’s gonna be fillin’ this little cunt?”

He doesn’t bother helping you as you struggle his pants down thick, muscular thighs, instead grabbing your oversized shirt and just— ripping it off of you. The loud tearing sound is overshadowed by his low chuckle when you squeak, before he kicks off his pants. The look in his eyes is a rabid, wild one, not that you have any time to think about it when he kisses you and bites your lip, sucking. “Gon’ give you my pups, y’know that? Yer not gonna go anywhere once I’m done with ya.” He descends onto your peaked nipples, sucking and biting hard enough to leave marks.

“Ah-ah, Tsumu, aw—” you grip onto his shoulder and dig your nails in long enough to hear him growl out against your skin, sucking a blotchy spot into the underside of your breast. “Ah, fuck- please hurry. I feel like I’m gonna pass out,” you admit, letting him play with and suck at your tits long enough to go lightheaded. “Tsum-uhh, please.” No response. Your mewl as you scratch down his back, his muscles flexing under your hand. “Ah—Alpha-aaah.”

That’s enough to have him shooting up from your body to grip your neck under his large palm, the pressure making you even more lightheaded. Tears bead along your lash line as he stares down at you with his tongue between his teeth, before blowing out a deep breath. “Oh, I’m gonna fuck ya stupid, pet. Gonna ruin this little cunt for anyone else. Know ya’d like that.” He pulls back from your soaked center enough to yank your shorts and panties down your thighs in one motion, shuddering when you present yourself pretty and open.

“Yer so dumb comin’ here like this, pretty girl. No one else‘s ever gonna get’ta see yer pretty body again,” he whispers as he presses his hand harder into the sides of your throat to make your mewls even more pitiful, before trailing two fingers down your slick pussy. It’s drenched down your thighs, ran down your ass, every part of your center flush and swollen as you let him appraise you like a piece of meat. Only for a few seconds, before he groans out and rubs lazy circles around your clit. “Ever. Again.”

You should be worried about the way he claims you like it’s nothing, with every word that falls from his pretty lips like a promise. But it only serves to make you wetter, and Atsumu grins so wide as he slides a finger into your clenching, wet cunt. The stretch is a lot already, his fingers thicker than yours as he presses deep and curls it right away, making your body buck under him. “Ah- go- go slow,” you beg, and he glances up to watch between your pussy and your teary face as he pumps it into you. It feels so good, good enough to have your hips meeting his hand halfway before he presses a second finger at your wet entrance and slides it in too.

The resistance is harder though, clamping down on him with a low whine. “Alpha, I— I wanna- have you. I wanna h-have you but you’re -so- big.” The praise has him growling, a low rumble from deep in his chest that makes you clench up more, and the blond watches in fascination as your little cunt stretches to take more of him, allowing his fingers to curl up so deep inside.

“Tell me…” he places a few kisses down your belly before licking down to your clit, sucking hard enough to get you to cry out, “yer an innocent little thing, ain’tcha? Untouched, waitin’ for me?” Your walls clamp as he rubs a circle around your puffy nub, nudging at your walls at an unforgiving pace that is going to have you cumming much quicker than you want, so you barely hear him the first time. “Gon’ let me be the first ta’ fuck this cunt?” But then your brain catches up when he pushes your legs even wider to allow himself more room, shuddering around him.

“No, I’m… ah- how— d’you know?”

He grins, other hand spanking your pussy between licks and sucks. “Can smell it on ya.” There’s only a second of reprieve when the sting of it spreads through your entire lower half, before he buries his face back between your lips and eats you out like he’s starving. “Cum for me, go on. Gonna give ma’ girl what she needs.” All the attention on your clit and the now-three fingers gliding precisely in and out of your needy cunt is too much. “Cum on ma’ tongue. Give it, like that.” You clamp your own hands over your tits as your thighs bump against his wide shoulders and squeeze, trying to hold back your voice.

“That’s it, good girl. Good fucking girl, cum for yer Alpha.” He licks a long stripe up, before rubbing his tongue right as he curls his fingers so good into that spot that your vision goes splotches of black and white and your back lifts from the bed.

“H-holy fuck, ahng- Tsumu~” Your body shudders wildly at his rubbing, your toes curling behind his back as he finger fucks you through your orgasm until you’re totally spent. The twitching and bucking of your hips only dies when you grab for his hair and pull him off of you, staring at the mess you’ve made of his face.

He smiles, bright and pretty as he tilts his head playfully to the side. His chin and lips are glossy with your wetness, his nose and cheeks a bit rosier than before. But he gets up and wipes the back of his hand over it, sliding you a bit higher up the bed. He clicks his tongue, then takes a soft grip of your jaw to muffle your little pants with his mouth. “There. Can’t have my little omega cryin’ too loud. Ya’d have every Alpha in the neighborhood rushing over ta help. An’ ya should know,” he climbs over you without taking his eyes from yours, hovering his large body over yours like a shield, “I’m not gonna share.”

“I- I don’t…” you trail off yet again as his eyes glint with intrigue, any kind of retort dying on your tongue. You should disagree. You won’t be sticking around for long enough to form a relationship after all. When he trails a hand over the marked up, tender spot of your neck, your own body seems to fight you on the thought. The words don’t make it out of your mouth, and the stickiness between your legs somehow still doesn’t feel enough to get rid of the ache. So you settle on pouting, instead pull him into your body by the waistband of his boxers.

“Wanna let me take ya now, hm?” he chuckles, and you nod. It’s his free hand that nudges your wrist down, dragging his underwear down to expose the patch of dark hair leading from his stomach down— and the large, rock-hard and heavy cock that jumps up against his navel. It’s flushed and glossy at the top when you reach out a palm and grip it, feeling his heartbeat through the skin. Atsumu grunts something under his breath, before settling closer to you. “Lemme fill you up, baby, c’mon.” He replaces your hand on his cock to push himself against your soaked pussy, impatient as he lines himself up.

You only get to grab at his shoulder for support as your baby hairs stand up on end and beads of sweat run down the valley of your tits. It’s so fucking hot, you’re dizzy with it. Your pussy, greedier than ever, clenches and squeezes around nothing in anticipation. And your clit is already throbbing again with a painful need that you can’t soothe even as you rub at it. The worst though, is the way he looks at you, eats you up under his gaze with blown out eyes so hungry it scares you a little. Because you don’t know if he’d even be able to stop if you asked. If you needed him to.

The hot, heavy feeling of his cock sliding in has you freezing up under the large shape of him, mouth dropping open as he stretches you much more than just his fingers did earlier. Even with the prep, you can’t hold back a string of swears as he slides in inch by inch, each one filling you up so much more than you thought possible. It’s intoxicating, a mix of desperation and contentment flooding over you as he pushes in, in, in. Your walls stretch for his cock as Atsumu groans out a deep, drawn out ‘fu—ck’ and grips you tigher. “Yer so fucking tight, yer- my omega’s little cunt feels so fuckin’ good.”

“Tsumu, it’s- b-big. Really big.” He nuzzles into your hair when you wrap your arms around his chest, holding onto him for some support. It hurts. It really does hurt, but it feels so good too. The sting and the burn of the stretch melt into a wonderful, hazy mess that has you tearing up. “I- need— n-can’t. Wanna…” You’re unable to get out your thoughts, let alone coherently, and Atsumu’s glad to nod along with your whines. “Tsumu, please. Alpha, p-please~.”

When he finally bottoms out you feel like you’re about to burst with how far he’s filling you up, rubbing so far into that perfect gummy spot that it’s making you dizzy. He’s so pretty as he stares down at you, mouth full of praise and pressing gentle kisses at your temple. “Such a good girl, s’fuckin’ good.” And then he starts moving inside you and you blank, clenching your eyes shut with his cock fucking you open. You cling on as he ruts into you deep and steady, rocks the bed each time he fills you up. The pap of skin meeting skin and your incessant, desperate whining is only drowned out by his hand on your throat and his words. “So damn pretty for me, pet. Yer takin’ this cock like a champ.”

You’re not. You’re drooling, eyes rolled back as your thighs wrap around his glutes in an attempt to slow down his rhythm to no avail. You’re bounced on him when he speeds up, chanting your name between kisses. “Tsumu, s’too much,” you choke out, only to feel him pull you up and turn you over in the sheets, jerking up your hips as he gets behind you. Your voice only goes tighter, tears beading at your lashes. They threaten to fall any second at the stretch, the feeling of being filled so good. At the ache that rips through you when he slips back into you with a deep growl and grabs a handful of hair. “F-fuck, Tsumu.”

“Take it so well,” he fucks you into the mattress relelntlessly, balls hitting your thighs with each pump as you cling to the sheets. Your fists shake, hair sticking to your neck. And Atsumu makes you take it like he promised he would, fucks you so hard and deep you can feel him in your throat. “Wan’cha to cum again. Can ya do that for me?” It’s not a question. It’s an order. One that has your tears falling down your cheeks as he slips a hand between your legs and rubs your sore, overstimulated clit hard and fast.

Your walls clench sharply at the touch, fireworks of white shooting over your vision yet again as your pussy desperately tries to cling to the cock pistoning in and out of you, but he doesn’t stop rubbing even then. Everything feels hazy, the world far away. All you know is Atsumu’s cock as it stretches your little cunt for him. As he fucks you like an animal, spit slipping out the corners of your mouth with a grin, back arched so perfectly. The thrusts only slow a little to give you a second to breathe, and the first thing that comes out is a sobbing, pathetic “Alpha, Alpha, ah-can’t take-mhm-more.”

“More?” you practically hear him smile, pulling your head to the side as you try to shake your head. “My bitch wants more?”

“Nooo~ no more,” you bite back, losing the edge as soon as his swollen head hits your cervix yet again, fucking you endlessly deeper into the bed. You can only cry, whine, and let yourself get pulled back into his hips though, too tired and utterly fucked out to do anything else. “W-wh— Oh, Tsumu,” you sniffle, moaning when he repositions his hand in your hair and fucks up, changing his angle. Even though everything feels sore, you don’t have it in you to stop him. You can only reach back to claw at his thigh and hope it’s enough to hang on for his end.

“Gon’ breed this pretty bitch pussy, make ya mine. Yer gonna take it so well, ain’t ya?” He slips a strong arm under your body to pull you up from the sheets and noses along the back of your skull as you nod, clinging onto his shoulder. “Gonna let me fuck this pussy whenever I want?” He fucks up into you until you can’t handle it anymore, until you bite your bottom lip bloody. You agree until your body can’t give any more, inner thighs covered in slick. 

“Tsumu, it’s too— t’much.”

His arms wrap around you to keep your body up against him, before bending in to nose along your neck. “Gonna fill this fertile cunt with my cum. Give you my knot.” You’re not sure if you’re even fully conscious by the time he bites back down on that damn mark in your neck and draws more blood from the wound, pushing down on your lower belly to make the fit even fucking tighter. “Gon’ be mine, forever. My pet. My little omega.” Hot tears spill down your cheeks as your cries fill the room, overstimulated, abused pussy clenching so hard.

“‘M yours, ‘m yours, Tsumu-ah~”

He’s overheating you, hot cock plugging you up as he barely moves anymore. Atsumu just gives you a quick kiss, before he grabs you by your throat and holds you in place with a grunt. “Agh- fuckin’— cumming. ‘M cumming- ughf-holy shit.” The fit seems so tight, like he’s… he is swelling inside you, walls stretching impossibly wider before ropes of hot, white cum fill you up and he bucks into you. “Fuck- take it, take it all.” The wet, sticky sound of your pussy being overfilled is all you hear over your heartbeat and the one pounding between your legs too.

The blond shudders for a few more seconds, fills you with so much cum even the swollen knot can’t keep it all in. “Shit,” he chuckles, way too happy for such an exhausting fuck. Then he slowly lays down with you shielded by him, and rubs a large palm comfortingly over your belly. Like he’s hoping it’ll take. You’re too overstimulated to care, hands still shaking when he links the free one with yours. “Ya don’t have’ta go anywhere, pet. Stupid Samu will just have ta’ help out a lil’ to get my mate situated.”

“But I am going home in a few days,” you whisper back, wiping your cheek onto the blanket with a pouty, exhausted sigh.

Tsumu chuckles though, and lifts himself onto his elbow to look at you. “No, you ain’t. Don’t be silly. Yer not goin’ anywhere.” His arm feels a lot heavier when it drapes over your waist, pulling you back into his chest with a sigh. And he’s still hard, your poor body now sore from being so full. “We’ll have ta keep ya inside when guests come later on so that people don’t ask why yer so fucking pregnant, but…” The soft, almost reverent way he kisses along the veins in your neck doesn’t pass you; and a cold shiver bites at your spine when he moans.

“Keep you safe with me.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2021. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

#atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #tw.abo #tw.a/b/o #tw.dubcon #tw.size kink #tw.dark content #tw.breeding #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.atsumu

[personasintro]

bad word | kth drabble

⇢ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; one of the kids in your class curses and you make it your responsibility to break it to her dad, luckily you know him better than your co-workers

⇢ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff, smut, dilf!taehyung

⇢ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: protected sex, explicit language, age gap; taehyung is 35 and reader is 28 (although their age is not mentioned in the story, just the age difference of 7 years), mentions of smut, slight biting

⇢ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 6.4k+

𝒂/𝒏: commissioned anonymously! this was supposed to be 4k but here we go again, another proof that it's a challenge for me to write something short haha

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ☕️ | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

“You're doing amazing, Jihoon.” you praise the little boy, patting the top of his head as you glance at his coloring book. The coloring is a little bit off, actually a lot, but you can't really tell him that, can you? He seems to be encouraged by your praise, your heart beaming when he looks up at you and gives you a grin, his two front teeth missing.

You praise other kids at the table, somehow content how silent the room is. Well, apart from the occasional squeals, laughs and toys crashing down the floor every few seconds, but that's just something you got used to very quickly. Now it's just a noise you can listen to without having the need to go somewhere quiet. However, headaches make an occasional appearance once you get back home, the place empty from all the kids noises and their presence. You can't say you hate it though, you actually miss them a lot.

You wouldn't do this job if you didn't like kids. And these particular amazing and cute kids that you get to see five days a week somehow sneaked their way into your heart, so you easily have grown attached to them. You could not see them for one week and feel like they’ve grown too quickly. Not for nothing people say you can see the real time passing by on kids. It's true.

Making your way back to the teachers table, you reach for your bottle of water as you join your co-workers, having a heated conversation while kids have their own play-time without you interfering.

“No, no, no. Mr. Kim has to be the first. Hands down.” Sara says, shaking her head while your other co-worker Katana just chuckles mumbling something along the lines “You've got a point”.

“What are you guys talking about?” you ask them, opening the bottle while taking a few gulps.

“Just ranking the hottest daddies. Kim, Ivy's father is definitely and successfully holding the first place.” Sara waves her hand as if she's talking about weather and not about one of the kids' fathers that is in this very same room.

You choke up, a few droplets of water spilling down your chin as you quickly wipe it with the back of your hand. Katana and Sara burst into laughter, enjoying your sudden and shocked reaction while you glare at them.

“Y/N agrees for sure.” Katana smirks, causing you to frown at her.

“Don't you guys have something else to do?” you mutter, closing the bottle as you feel your heart racing, eyes silently searching for Ivy who's playing with one of the dolls putting them into a kids stroller.

Your heart softens at the sight, her pigtails still successfully holding, the ones you made her once she woke up from her nap time. She always asks you to do them, she can be very persistent when she wants to.

“Loosen up, Y/N. It's not like you don't think Mr. Kim is the perfect dilf out of all daddies here.”

Your head snaps towards Sara, eyes bulge out as you feel your whole face flash while your co-workers laugh at your reaction once again. Your heart beats harshly against your ribcage, feeling their eyes on you as you straighten yourself and clear your throat. Just as you're about to say something, Katana cuts you off before you even have a chance, her eyebrows lifted confidently. Maybe you should be happy they're continuing with the conversation rather than laughing at your reaction and finding you being more frustrated and red with each passing minute.

“He has someone. He clearly isn't with Ivy's mother,”

That's true. Ivy's mother is coming to pick her every second week and it's quite known they're not together. It's not like Ivy's father hides it and besides, Ivy's mother likes to show her frustration towards her ex-husband at every occasion and she definitely doesn't mind if she's doing it in front of her kid's teachers or in the kindergarten her kid is going into. This is definitely not the place to voice out her annoyance towards her kid's father, especially not in front of her even though it seems Ivy has her own little bubble and luckily, doesn't put too much attention to whatever her mother has to say whenever she comes to pick her up, trying to discreetly speak not so fondly about her ex-husband. However, you know better.

Her ex-husband is a very friendly and polite man, loving his daughter like no one else. It warms everyone's heart whenever he comes to pick her up, not because he's handsome or a perfect dilf as your co-workers named him (which to be honest you don't know how to feel about it). Maybe that's why she seems so envious of him because he has a perfect relationship with their daughter. Well, at least that could be one of the other reasons for sure.

However, as soon as those words leave Katana's mouth you feel yourself getting tense all over again as you stare at her with a neutral look. Sara frowns, seeing displeased by the new information and how Katana sounds so sure of herself.

“How do you know that? Has he told you anything?”

Would it be too awkward if you just stepped away from this conversation? Why out of all time, one of the kids can't do something that would require your whole attention and presence? Just like on purpose, there's a complete calm yet cheerful atmosphere in the classroom.

“No,” Katana snickers, “But a man like him has to have someone. I mean, take one look at him. He can't be single.”

You shake your head at her statement, even though partly you'd agree if you didn't know any better. Sara sighs, mumbling a few words of how unfortunate it is that every hot man is either married or dating someone. Not going to lie, you're not blind and it's hard to resist Taehyung's charms. That's what his name is. Kim Taehyung. It sounds nice even in your head. But not even once you were thirsting about him so publicly, especially not in a classroom full of kids even though they can't hear the conversation that's been clearly going on way before you made your way here.

Luckily, someone up there has listened to your silent pleas when two of the kids start to bicker, your clue to turn around and leave from the conversation as you assure Sara and Katana you got it. By the time you kindly explain to the kids bickering isn't nice and give them the pep-talk, Sara and Katana have separated and are playing with other kids.

Later in the day when a few of the kids have already gone home and got picked up by their parents, you're closing the classroom's door while bidding goodbye to one of the kids and their mom. You're opening your mouth, ready to talk to Sara (since Katana already went home because there's no need for the three of you to be here when most of the kids went already home) but before you can, the usual chirpy and soft voice calls out something you'd never expect you'd hear again.

“Fuck!”

You and Sara stare with wide eyes at each other before you glance at the four year old Ivy, her brows furrowed as one of the toys she was trying to reach fell down on the floor with a loud bang. She seems completely oblivious that whatever she said is bad, her small and neaty hands picking up the toy as she glares at the poor plastic pink car for dolls.

“I got it.” You mouth to Sara, seeing her finger pointing between her and you, her silent way of asking who's going to deal with it.

“Ivy, honey,” you call out to the little girl, her round eyes glancing at you as she sits on the wooden stool taking the car with her as she sets it onto the table where her dolls are sitting.

Should you tell her something? She seems oblivious to the curse word that so freely let out her small mouth. Reminding her and trying to explain to her that she shouldn't be talking like that would just put more attention to it. However, this is not the first time you've heard this word because the same thing happened yesterday. You've no idea where she heard it from, well the most likely option is that she heard it at home. But you also know her father is very serious about language around kids, especially around his own kid to be precise. You mean… stuff like that can happen to anyone. People often curse before they realize they did it, it happened to you a lot – not in front of kids or in your job though.

Did he and his ex-wife maybe get into an argument? Maybe one of them cursed and Ivy obviously heard it.

“What did you say just a moment ago?” you ask her, letting her think about it. Okay, if she doesn't remember you'll let it go and act as if it didn't happen. But if she--

“Fuck,” she shrugs innocently, your eyes widening once more as you look around to see if any of the kids heard her. Luckily, they haven't.

Sara stands nearby, not really hearing your conversation but she definitely heard the word “fuck” coming out of Ivy with no problem. She stares at you, somehow looking both worried and amused at the same time as you take a deep breath.

Oh, fuck. She's not even your kid and you feel your palms getting sweaty. You don't want to cross any lines or interfere with the way she is being raised, you know not many parents appreciate when one of the teachers gets involved. However, it's your job to explain to her certain things when it directly happens in the kindergarten and in front of other kids. The last thing you need is one of the kids to hear her and repeat it after her.

“Ivy, you can't say that word. It's naughty and nice kids don't talk like that,” you start, seeing her tilting her head slightly at you as she thinks about your words for a moment. “I thought you're a nice kid.” you tell her softly, purposely saying it knowing she's always determined to prove that she's nice whenever her dad comes to pick her up and mentions ice-cream. Or even if he asks one of you, the teachers, if she was nice. Ivy is usually the first one to respond which always makes everyone laugh.

She's a good kid. Polite one too. She treats other kids nicely and always shares her toys. So naturally, you're even more surprised to hear her saying such a word that definitely shouldn't belong to the dictionary of a four year old.

“I am!” she insists, frowning as she pouts slightly.

“Well, nice and good kids don't talk like that. It's very naughty.”

“Sorry.” she mumbles apologetically, looking down at her lap.

“I don't want to hear you saying that again, okay? You're a very cute and pretty lady.” you tell her, trying to lighten her sour mood as you tap her cute round nose.

She giggles, nodding as you chuckle at her. “Okay.” she tells you softly once she calms down.

Half an hour later, close to the closing time, Sara informs you Ivy's mother is coming to pick her up as she just parked her car. It doesn't faze you, it's pretty usual for her to come pick up her daughter at this hour. However, even though she's not very nice towards her ex-husband, having bitter remarks which are usually muttered underneath her breath but you – or Sara and Katana – always hear them. She's not trying to mask it that much, even though she thinks she's being sleek with the whole act “I hate my ex-husband”. But she's not a bad mom. She comes this late because she owns a boutique but whenever she sees her daughter, an almost identical copy of her father, she always has a warm smile on her lips. She's nice towards teachers (which obviously includes you as well) and you've never really had any trouble with her.

That can't be said about Ivy's father though.

You know your daily task is to fill up parents about their kids' day and how they behaved, but before Sara can make her way towards the door and open it, you catch her wrist and glance at her nervously.

“Don't say anything about what Ivy said today, please.”

Sara looks a little taken aback by your request, not hiding a mere confusion and probably wonders why are you even asking this of her. It's pretty usual you'd tell whichever of the parents would pick up the kid, the truth. The last time Ivy said clear and soundable “fuck”, you brushed it off after talking to the girls. But now that has happened a second time, you'd usually just have to say it to the parent.

“Are you sure? She should probably know about this.” Sara says, voice quiet and confused.

“Yeah, she should. But she'll just blame Ivy's father for it and the poor kid already listens to that every time she finds something against him. I think her dad will explain this stuff to her better, Ivy listens to him more. We can tell him next week when it's his turn to pick her up.”

Sara is not surprised to hear your reason, she can easily tell the difference of the two parents as well. She's very attentive and knows, even though Ivy loves both her parents, she's way more cheerful when her dad comes to pick her up and he's actually the one that is more strict. Ivy is just a kid and even though she has a good heart and is raised well, she has her own tantrums sometimes. You, Sara and Katana were witnesses to him putting her back in her place whenever she threw a tantrum in the dressing room with his deep and stern voice.

“Okay, I think you're right.” she nods, agreeing with you but before she can say something else, Ivy's mother opens the door and greets you before she calls out to Ivy.

The little girl runs to her and hugs her long legs before she lets go and goes back into the room, cleaning up the toys she played with just a few seconds ago and putting them back to their place. It makes your heart bloom with softness and warmness and when you look at her mother, you see the same look in her eyes as she waits for her daughter, taking her small hand into hers when she finally makes it back to her mother.

The apartment smells delicious when you enter the spacious entryway, a silent curse leaving your mouth as soon as you take off your shoes and step onto a wooden toy that makes your foot ache. Putting away your thin jacket onto the rack, you make your way through the house, following the little rumble sounds and amazing smell of food that makes your mouth water.

You smile as soon as you see him, standing with his back while stirring something on the pot. You make your way towards him, hugging him from the back as he slightly jumps from the sudden touch but smiles once he looks down and sees it's you.

“Hey, love.”

Heart warming at the pet name, you let out a soft “hi” before he turns around and kisses you on the lips, cupping your cheeks for a moment.

“Ivy?” he asks in assurance, causing you to chuckle as you lean against the kitchen counter, seeing him still wearing one of his work attires, a light blue button-up and black slacks.

He must've come home and straight went to prepare dinner for the two of you.

“Hyerim picked her up.” you answer, seeing him nod even though he already knows the answer to that. He's just in his dad's protective and caring mode, he needs assurement.

“Good, how was your day?”

So you chat, watching him cook as he refuses your help whenever you offer yourself. Once the food is ready, you move to the dining room with a few crayons still sitting on top of the table messily as he apologizes and quickly puts them away.

“Sorry, didn't have enough time to make this place clean.” he apologizes, but it only makes you chuckle because he's acting as if you're not spending your free time here every second week.

Throughout the dinner, you talk and eat in a peaceful silence – something you've grown used to as well. Sometimes you wonder how it'd feel like with Ivy's presence here, considering it feels like she is here but in reality she isn't. Her drawings are attached to the fridge and around the house, clearly making her dad a proud one. And her toys are almost everywhere, even though they're neatly placed in the living room.

It makes you miss her, knowing she is probably having a great time with her mom because apparently, she never complains and always talks fondly whenever she comes back home. It only makes you think of what happened today, wondering if by now the little girl didn't listen to you and already said “fuck” again, this time in front of her mother.

“Taehyung?” you ask softly, putting down your fork as you glance at your boyfriend who's just putting a bite into his mouth as he hums in response, eyes set upon you.

“Did you and Hyerim fight by any chance recently?” you ask him, seeing his brows furrowing, the same way like Ivy did today.

“No,” he answers, looking a little puzzled as he thinks it through for a second before answering more confidently. “No, I told you we haven't fought in months. I think she prefers talking behind my back and in front of Ivy's teachers.” he jokes a little, the corner of his lips curving to a slight smirk.

It makes you chuckle and look down at your plate, obviously knowing you're the reason why he knows all of this in the first place. As much as Sara and Katana daydream about him, they wouldn't go as far as telling him such an uncomfortable and private thing, even if it includes him as well. It's impolite.

Perks of him being your boyfriend, so you can tell him anything you want.

You nod along his words, reaching for the glass of wine as you take a decent sip before he keeps his eyes on you, a silent curiosity and interest crossing his face. “Is there a reason why you're asking? Has she said something about me again?”

“Ah, no. She was actually very polite this time...” you trail off, avoiding his eyes for a moment and you've no idea why.

Maybe it's the way he's staring at you with his dark eyes across the table, or the fact that he looks so hot and stern all of a sudden while he analyzes the way you're acting. Obviously, a few months of dating him, he already knows when there's something you're not telling him.

“Come on, love. Tell me, I'm not gonna bite. At least not now.” he smirks, laughing when you exclaim his name and start laughing too, momentarily hiding your face with your hands as you feel the heat rushing to your face.

“Alright,” you breathe out once you calm down, looking him in the eyes. “Ivy said 'fuck' today.”

Taehyung's brows shoot up in surprise, opening his mouth slightly. “She said what?”

“Fuck,” you tell him, even though you know he heard you the first time. “One of the toys fell when she was trying to grab it. I talked to her but obviously, I thought you should know. I didn't say anything to Hyerim, we both know why…” you tell him and he nods, understanding that Hyerim might've overreacted and just put more blame on him than it's necessarily.

“I don't understand… I don't curse in front of her, neither does Hyerim. We're both very careful about that.”

“You never know, it might've slipped. It doesn't really matter who's to blame for this, but she can't speak like that. Thank god none of the kids heard her. This is actually the second time she said it, the first time she said it was a few days ago.”

“What? Why didn't you tell me?” he asks, surprised, not sounding accusingly at all.

“I wanted to tell you in private and since you had Ivy last week, there was no time. I wasn't about to discuss it in a dressing room where other parents were.” you explain.

Taehyung nods understandably, giving you a slight smile in appreciation before he looks a little disappointed by the news as he sighs. “I'll talk to her when she comes back from Hyerim. Where could she possibly hear it from? I don't understand…”

You shrug, not sure what to answer as he thinks about it for a moment, deciding that he has no answer for that and just lets it go for tonight. Shaking his head, he continues eating while you do the same, a casual talk filling the dining room once again while throwing knowing and flirtatious glances at each other.

You often think about what you did in your past life to deserve such a man in your life, to have that privilege of snatching not just one of the hottest men in the world but also the kindest and most attentive boyfriend. It was one year ago when you started working at the kindergarten where you're working till this day. You had been working there barely for a week when a new three year old started attending kindergarten for the first time. You can still remember the way Ivy's big eyes were full of curiosity and fear at the same time, her both hands clutching her father's big one. He stayed for a few minutes, lingering close to the wall as he watched his daughter playing with toys and drawing him a picture. Despite his fond eyes that were filled with nothing but love, you could see him looking worried just as equal as Ivy when the door of the classroom full of other kids opened.

The only difference is, that he waited until his daughter wasn't watching him and was too occupied while drawing him a picture of butterflies, house and other random things that the three year old could think of.

And despite you working there barely a week, you already encountered similar situations with other parents as well. You're not going to lie, he did look slightly intimidating from the moment you first saw him. It's not like he was expressionless or coldly looked around himself, he was quite the opposite. One of the kids brought him a toy and he crouched down to the kid, ruffled his black hair and thanked him with a cute boxy smile which later on, you found Ivy has a very similar smile.

So you approached him, listened to him as he explained that he's probably overreacting but ever since she was born, he was with her most of the time and now is the time for her to come here, so he can work and she can finally attend kindergarten like every other kid. Ever since then, you both chatted a lot whenever he came to pick her up. Nothing too serious and you never crossed any boundaries, especially when he informed you Ivy's mother will pick her up every second week. Later on, when he came to pick up Ivy one day, you assumed they're married but busy to come together to pick her up. You assumed they just came to an arrangement to take turns.

You were surprised – okay, maybe even pleased – to hear that they've been divorced and separated for a year already. You kept your reaction low, just nodding in understatement. You remember the way he subtly smirked at you when you shyly looked away.

Somehow over the months, you both became close – friends maybe. He'd always talk to you about his day while waiting for Ivy to tie her shoes because “she's a big girl and she can do it alone”. Ivy's words, not her father's. He went along with it, taking that time to lean against the kids lockers while chatting to you whenever you had the time.

Until one day he finally grew some balls – Taehyung's words again – and finally asked you out. And the rest is a history, bringing you back to present time as you've been dating for five months now.

Taehyung's broad shoulders and the way he's eye-fucking you is definitely worth of not thinking about history, but get ready for present. He cockily smirks at you, standing above you while you're sprawled on his bed completely naked while he takes the last article of his clothes which happens to be boxers.

Oh, you're definitely lucky.

If only Sara and Katana could see you right now, they'd never believe you've been dating this man the whole time they kept talking about him, or more like thirsting over him. He's more than that though.

There are many things you appreciate about Taehyung, being mature is one of them. Him being older than you, seven years difference to be exact, makes him more mature than any of the boys you were dating previously. There weren't that many but even if there were, you know no one could compete with Taehyung.

Even your friendly and blunt co-workers can't keep their eyes off him whenever it's his turn of the custody. Even when it's not, they talk about him on a daily basis. And apparently giving him a nickname that has been sticking to him for a few months now.

Taehyung is in the middle of rolling a condom down his length when you giggle amusingly as your eyes scrunch. He chuckles, even though he glances at you in confusion wondering why the hell you're giggling all of a sudden.

“What?” he asks, breathing out a chuckle as he glances down at his length and gives himself a few testing tugs. As much as he wants three more kids (apparently – it's something he spilled when you had a date night at his house while drinking lots of wine), you still have a long way to go until you go that route.

“You know that Sara and Katana call you dilf?” you giggle, covering your mouth with your palm while Taehyung's eyebrows shoot up in shock.

For the first time since he has slowly led you to his bedroom and pleasured you with his mouth until you were begging for him to stop and let you breathe for a second, he looks quite shocked and taken aback. It's only now that you see the back of his neck flash as he sheepishly rubs it with his hand.

He's no stranger to the names of your co-workers, he hears about them all the time. However, it's the first time you revealed the nickname they gave him, even though he knows they're thirsting over him. Something you spilled that time on your date night.

But Taehyung is not caught off guard for too long, hovering over you for a second as he pulls you closer to the edge of bed, hands on your ass as he lifts it up. His length pokes you right into your clit causing you to stop giggling as you moan.

“Dilf, is it?” he hums, causing you to nod while silent pleas of him filling you up resounds from your mouth. In times like these, you can barely function and control yourself at the same time.

Taehyung listens to you, guiding his thick length into your wet and tight hole as he enters you with a slow yet shallow thrust. You groan, mouth opening and eyes shutting, falling apart from the single feeling of him stretching you out. You missed him. It's been something over a week since you got to have some alone time with him, which includes a lot of sex of course.

“Do they know this dilf gets to fuck you?” he hums against your neck, causing you to realize he's hovering over you once again as he gently bites into the crook of your neck, slowly thrusting in and out.

“Ah, fuck,” you moan out once he pulls back, grabbing you by your thighs as he hoasts your lower body up to his liking. It's just a matter of seconds before he starts fucking you just like he promised a few minutes ago when you entered his bedroom.

His thick length brushes your wet and tight walls, hitting all the right places as you can't keep your moans silent. Taehyung's eyes are focused on your breasts that bounce with each thrust he makes, eyes glancing down at your stomach to see it bulging thanks to his length inside you.

“Shit, love. You're killing me.” he groans, the sight being one of his weaknesses as it ushers him to pound into you even more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Tae…” you whimper, feeling yourself getting close as his nails dig into the meat of your thighs. But the pain is nothing but pleasing and arousing you even more.

Soon enough, you're falling apart and cumming around his thick length that makes him groan, making it harder for him to move inside you. But somehow he does, pounding into you and following you a minute later while he spills into the condom.

Both breathing heavy, you're not surprised when Taehyung falls down on you as you hug him closer while he peppers your neck and chest with kisses. He slowly slips out of you, groaning at the feeling as he forces himself to stand up and dispose of the condom. He tells you he'll be right back, bringing one of his shirts that he without a doubt found in the bathroom. He cleans you up, tossing it down the floor you scoot further to the bed, finally laying down onto his soft pillows. He cuddles to you, tossing a duvet over your naked and warm buddies as he nuzzles to your neck.

“I want to tell Ivy,” he suddenly mumbles, his hands slowly rubbing your stomach under the duvet. “About us, about you.”

That makes you surprised, your heart skipping a beat and causing you to feel excited.

Ivy doesn't know that you're dating her father. It's something you respected from the moment you felt things between you and Taehyung aren't just about the casual talks between a parent and a teacher. From Taehyung's positions, it definitely makes sense that he didn't want to break it to his daughter that he's dating one of her teachers. You both wanted to make sure you're very serious about each other before he breaks the news to her. It makes sense. You're her teacher and even though it won't affect your work or can get you into trouble, you didn't want to be introduced to her as her dad's girlfriend just yet. No one knows about your relationship, that's one of the reasons.

Ivy is a sweet kid but she's still a kid and she would obviously spill the news. You both can't expect the four year old will keep your relationship a secret before you decide to just announce it to the world. You don't know how Hyerim, Taehyung's ex, will react to the news. Even though you don't care that much about her because she has nothing to do with Taehyung, not anymore – she's still Ivy's mother and probably won't have a pleasant reaction.

There are a lot of things you and Taehyung had to think through before you came to the conclusion that this is nice and you want to be in each other's life like this. Your parents know about Taehyung, and so does his parents know about you. But telling Ivy means that you'll be openly dating and it no longer will be a secret, in other words it’s a bigger step than telling your or Taehyung’s parents. This means Sara and Katana will find out eventually too, however you're not worried about that.

They might feel embarrassed that they've been thirsting about your boyfriend this whole time, but it'll be finally your time to laugh at them and see them frustrated.

Taehyung isn't scared of Ivy's reaction, the reason he didn't tell her about the two of you isn't about that. She loves you. Apparently, she talks about you at home too and according to Taehyung, you're her favorite teacher. Teachers shouldn't have a favorite kid but they always do. Your favorite kid is Ivy. Not because you're dating her dad, she's been your favorite from the moment Taehyung went to work and left her there for the first time alone. She came up to you and clutched to your hand, talking to you sweetly as she drew you a picture. The first one she drew in a class was already took by Taehyung as she made sure she gave it to him before he had to depart.

“Are you sure?” you ask, not hiding the smile in your voice that makes Taehyung smile as he kisses your collarbone.

“I've been sure for quite some time,” he tells you softly, “I don't want to hide anymore. She loves you, I love you and I want to spend my time with both of you. I want you to be here when she's home too, I want my both girls here.”

Your heart softens, heart blooming with love and warmness as your fingers play with Taehyung's dark wavy hair.

“I'd be more than happy about that,” you confess, “I feel like it's the right time too.”

Taehyung agrees, lifting his head off your body as he looks at you and purses his lips, silently asking for a kiss. You chuckle, finding him cute and different than from the man that pounded you into his mattress just a moment ago. You kiss him, letting your mouths mold together for a few minutes until you're forced to pull apart to properly breathe.

“I know where Ivy heard the bad word.”

The bad word. That makes you chuckle as you turn to him with an interest in your eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, smirking a little. “From you.”

You open your mouth. “Excuse me? I don't curse in front of her.”

“Uhm, it might not have been completely in front of her, but you know when you curse the most.”

“No, tell me.” you tell him, narrowing your eyes at him.

“When we have sex.” he smirks, causing your mouth to open.

“But--Ivy--”

“You remember the last time when we had sex? I called you over after we both couldn't sleep, Ivy was in her room sleeping back then,” Taehyung starts, causing your heart to stop for a moment as a horrific expression makes a way to your face.

Like Taehyung said, it was one of the nights when you texted and couldn't sleep, the texts becoming slightly explicit and needy which caused Taehyung to call you over. It was the first and only time you sneaked to his house while Ivy was in it too, supposedly soundlessly sleeping in her room while her father fucked you in his own. He assured you she's sleeping and you had to sneak away the next morning before she woke up, like a damn teenager.

You both acted like teenagers that night to be fair. The whole sneaking thing had its own spice though.

“Apparently, the little lovebug was awake or we must've woke her up.” Taehyung says, laughing as he seems amused by the whole situation.

“But--how do you know? Maybe she heard it somewhere else, this doesn't mean anything.” you tell him, not believing your own words too.

Taehyung raises his brow at you, “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he starts mimics you from that night when he took you from behind, your face heating up right away as you slap him in the chest. “You know how I know that?” he asks, voice amused and cocky which makes you roll your eyes.

“Spill it out.” you tell him, ready to hide behind the duvet but he gently takes it away from you and keeps his hold onto it.

“She asked me the next morning who was at our house. Apparently, she heard some noises.”

Okay, now you certainly look mortified. Taehyung laughs, enjoying the way you squeal in embarrassment.

“And you're telling me that just now?” you exclaim, repeating his words from earlier as he laughs with eyes scrunched shut.

“Well, telling you over a text or in a kindergarten with a bunch of parents and kids around wasn't the best option. I forgot to tell you, to be honest.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, rubbing your forehead in embarrassment. “What did you tell her?”

“That she must've had a bad dream.” Taehyung chuckles causing you to laugh.

“And she believed that?”

“Does it matter?”

No, it doesn't.

Taehyung suddenly cuddles you again, leg slouched over your own as his mouth is on your collarbone against, slowly making his way down to your breast as he starts sucking your nipple. You gasp, looking down at him as he keeps his attention to your nipple before he looks up with a smirk.

“Look at you, teaching my kid a bad word and you haven't even been introduced as my girlfriend.”

“It wasn't on purpose.” you gasp, whimpering when he gently bites onto your breast, chuckling lowly.

“I know,” he adds, assuring you that he's not mad or putting a blame on you. It was your both's fault. If you just waited and weren't horny like teenagers, this wouldn't have happened.

He lets go of your nipple with a loud plop, staring you in the eyes while his hands move down your stomach. You already know where this is heading, soon feeling him between your legs. But before he fully touches you where you're aching for him the most, he licks his lips and bites into them before a loving gaze makes its way to his eyes.

“Good thing I love you.”

#networkbangtan #ficswithluv #bts smut #bts fluff #bts au #taehyung smut #dilf!taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #personasintro

[sluttywonwoo]

pretend || j.ww x reader

Summary: reading thirst tweets with your co-star/boyfriend’s best friend makes things a little tense

Warnings: swearing, smut mentions (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n:  originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

The sound of Mingyu cracking his knuckles next to you sent a shiver down your spine, making you cringe instinctively. You turned to glare at him and leaned away from the noise.

“I hate when you do that!” you groaned.

He smirked. “I know, that’s why I like doing it.”

You looked over at Wonwoo, who was sitting across the room with the crew, and pointed to Gyu. 

“Can you tell your best friend to stop being annoying?”

“Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being dramatic?” Mingyu retaliated.

“I’m not picking sides!” Wonwoo shouted back and held up his hands in surrender.

You let your jaw drop. “I’ll remember that, Jeon.”

“Baby, I-” Wonwoo started to defend himself, but fell silent when the producer got up from her chair and approached you and Mingyu who were sitting behind the camera. 

“Which one of you wants to take this?” she asked, holding up a large insulated jug full of paper strips. 

“I’ll take it,” Mingyu offered and set the cup in his lap. 

“What a gentleman,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he muttered, “because you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

The producer gave you both a sideways look. “Are you guys alright? Should we take a minute before starting?”

“No, we’re fine,” you assured her.

“We don’t actually hate each other,” Mingyu added, “this is just how... we are.”

She didn’t look any less concerned, but nodded anyway. “Okay, well remember what your director said about playing up your chemistry to promote the show. And when we call action just give a quick slate and start reading the tweets.”

She walked back over to her spot next to the cameraman and took a seat before looking over a checklist that had been handed to her and writing some notes on it.

“Nervous?” Mingyu whispered to you as you both waited for your cue.

“A little,” you admitted. “You?”

“I’m a bit on edge,” he concurred. “Mostly because your boyfriend is about to watch me read filthy comments about you on-camera.”

You glanced over at Wonwoo who gave you an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up. “He’ll be fine. How bad can they be?”

From a distance, the producer you had just spoken to called for everyone to be quiet on set and signaled the cameras to start rolling. You perked up and straightened your dress, waiting for Mingyu to take the lead. 

“Hi guys, I’m Kim Mingyu.”

“And I’m y/n y/l/n.”

“You might recognize us from our new Netflix series, Breaking Curfew, where we play opposite each other in what you might call a... complicated romantic relationship.”

“We’re enemies with benefits,” you summarized. “And today we’re here with Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about each other.”

“Ladies first,” Mingyu said and held the cup out to you.

You closed your eyes and sifted through the strips of paper with one hand, selecting one at random. 

“Okay, this one’s about you. ‘Kim Mingyu has the prettiest eyes’.” You grinned as you watched your co-star’s cheeks turn pink. “He’s totally blushing right now! We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff!”

“Thank you very much to whoever tweeted that,” Mingyu said and cleared his throat. 

“I agree with this person,” you continued, “you do have really pretty eyes.”

“Aw, thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome.”

“My turn.” Mingyu closed his eyes and rummaged around the cup before picking one. “‘Someone tell y/n y/l/n that I’m single and I get a discount at Olive Garden if she ever wants to let me take her out on a date’.”

You chuckled. “I do like Olive Garden.”

“She’ll get back to you on that one, mate,” Mingyu said quickly and let the crumpled piece of paper fall to the floor. 

You took that as a sign to move on so you reached into the jug and pulled out another tweet.

“Oh, this one’s about me again. ‘Y/n y/l/n scissor me challenge’.” You clapped a hand over your mouth in shock and thrust the slip of paper towards Mingyu.

“You know what, props for being so bold. What do you think, y/n? Are you going to take them up on the offer?”

“I’ll think about it,” you managed to choke out, sending Mingyu into a laughing fit. You fanned yourself with your hand as you tried to recover and motioned for your co-star to read another one. “Your turn.”

“‘Kim Mingyu and y/n y/l/n are my dream celebrity threesome,’” he read. “What a compliment, don’t you think?”

“Oh, for sure,” you agreed and winked as you held your hand to your ear in a call me motion. 

“These are just getting more and more vulgar, aren’t they?” Mingyu asked. 

“I don’t know that anything can beat the scissoring one,” you pointed out as you fished another tweet from the bucket. “Another one about Mingyu, okay. ‘I wanna suck Kim Mingyu’s soul through his dick then spit it back in his face’.” You blinked at the piece of paper in front of you in shock, scanning back over it to make sure you had read it right the first time. “Jesus... christ.”

Mingyu smirked and nudged your shoulder with his. 

You ignored him and pointed a finger at the camera in disgust. “I cannot believe you made me read this with my own two eyes. I could have lived my entire life without seeing those words in a sentence together!”

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Mingyu countered, running a thumb along his jawline cockily. 

“No, I have beef with whoever tweeted that now.”

“You’re just jealous that I like this tweet better than the threesome one.”

You sighed. “This interview was a bad idea. Your head is already so god damn big.”

Mingyu opened his mouth to retaliate, but paused like he had thought better of it and took a deep breath to compose himself. 

“Anyway, moving on.”

You watched as he sifted through the tweets and chose one from the bottom, reading it to himself and grinning slightly before reading it aloud. 

“‘Petition for y/n y/l/n to start an OnlyFans because I just know her tits are incredible. I can feel it in my bones’.”

You brought your hands up to your boobs self-consciously and laughed. “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”

“I’ve seen them,” Mingyu added nonchalantly, “and I can confirm that twitter user ‘geminisuns’ is correct.”

“Mingyu!” 

“What? Do you know how many sex scenes we had to shoot? We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”

You looked back over to the crew and made eye contact with the producer. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

“Maybe we should take a quick break,” she suggested and motioned for the cameras to stop rolling. “Get a drink, freshen up and be back here in five.”

“Do you think they’re going to use that part?” Mingyu asked as he followed you over to the water cooler. 

“I don’t know, dude,” you sighed in annoyance, “but great fucking job. The whole world already thinks we’re boning.”

“I don’t know about the whole world.” You glared at him. “Wonwoo knows we’re not.”

Wonwoo. You had nearly forgotten that your boyfriend was there on set with you. You looked around for him, and saw him still sitting in his designated guest chair looking at his phone. You could only imagine what he must be thinking of all of this. You should probably say something to him. 

You told Mingyu that you’d be back and made your way across the room to Wonwoo. Even from a distance you could tell that he was upset. 

His knuckles were pale and his jaw was tight. He didn’t look up at you when you approached him. 

“Sorry this is taking longer than expected,” you said, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured in response, still not looking at you. 

You sighed and draped yourself across him, slinging your arms loosely across his shoulders as you leaned down to see what he was doing on his phone. He was scrolling aimlessly on Instagram, not even liking any of the posts. 

“If you’re bored you can leave,” you said curtly and stood back up. 

“I’m not bored.”

“You’re not even paying attention to the shoot.”

“Trust me, it’s impossible not to. I’ve been trying to tune it out for the past ten minutes with no luck.”

“Why would you not want to pay attention?” you demanded even though the answer was sitting right in front of you. “This is a big deal for me.”

Wonwoo swallowed and finally looked up at you. “I know, baby. It’s just- do you know how hard it is to listen to my best friend talk about doing all of these dirty things to you-”

“He’s my best friend too,” you pointed out in a quiet hiss. “The only reason we’re together is because of him.”

Sometimes you felt the need to remind Wonwoo that you had known Mingyu longer than you had known him. If Gyu hadn’t brought him to set all those times back when you were filming in the fall, you wouldn’t even know about each other’s existence. 

“I know that.”

“You’ve done interviews like this before,” you argued. 

“I know,” he repeated.

“Then why are you being like this?” He didn’t answer, so you kept going. “You know my bare ass has been on tv, right-”

“Don’t,” Wonwoo warned and grabbed your wrist.

You gasped and flexed your fingers gingerly in his grasp, challenging him. “Don’t what?” 

“Y/n,”

“Don’t... act like I want to fuck your best friend?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re enjoying this.” It wasn’t a question.

“Don’t pretend like I’d rather fulfill those tweets with him instead of you? Give the people what they want?”

You had to bite your tongue before you went any further and said something you might regret. Your words had already had the desired effect. You didn’t even have to look at Wonwoo’s lap to know that he was struggling not to get hard. 

You could see it in his eyes. The arousal that had turned the warm brown into black. The way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. You wondered if you would even make it back home before he’d break, if he would pull the car over on the side of the road and take you then and there. 

Your knees were weak at the mere thought of what you were in for later that night. Making Wonwoo jealous was admittedly one of your favorite pastimes, purely for selfish reasons. Possessive sex was arguably the best sex. The teasing, the hair-pulling, the choking, the face-fucking, all hit different when Wonwoo was reminding you who you belonged to. 

Wonwoo released your wrist from his grip and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Are you finished?”

You shook your head and grinned. “Just getting started.”

lmk what you thought; i always appreciate feedback!!

wonwoo tags: @wonw00t

shoot me an ask to be added/removed from my taglist

#pretend #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo x female reader #wonwoo smut #wonu smut #wonwoo fic #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

[randomperson351]

Lifeguard - BH

Summary: Being the only Wheeler child that isn't doing anything, your mother (Mrs Wheeler) asks you to come and get her from the pool, but you leave with something much better.

Inspo: Stranger things s3 ep1

Do not repost or rewrite any of my work. Minors and blank blogs will be blocked.

Masterlist

"Yeah, okay mum I'm leaving now...yeah okay see you soon, bye."

"Oh and Melissa don't forget to bring my purse, I need some money to buy food for when we get home."

"Okay, bye now!" I put the telephone back on the receiver, grabbed her purse and the keys to my car to go and collect my mother from the swimming pool. Mike was out with his group of friends probably doing something he shouldn't be and Nancy was at work with Jonathan so I was on pick up duty.

It wasn't a long drive to the pool, probably 15 minutes maximum which in theory gave her plenty of time to be ready for when I arrive. I really didn't want to have to go inside and be stuck talking to all her stupid friends for another 30 minutes or something, no doubt they'll just talk about some 'hot new lifeguard' that apparently works there. I mean seriously they are all old enough to be this guys mother by the sound of it and they still thirst after him some ditzy teenagers, it was ridiculous!

I pulled into the car park and took a deep breath before entering the gates to the pool and I immediately spotted my mum and her gal pals all sprawled out on their sunbeds.

Here goes nothing, I thought.

"Oh hi honey, I'm almost ready could you just grab my towel and shoes from over there? I'll be out of the changing rooms in a few minutes." She asked me before I could even put my bag down.

"Sure." I replied, wandering to the other side of the pool and getting her shoes.

Where the fuck is her towel? I looked around and couldn't see it anywhere and started panicking slightly.

"Looking for something?" A deep voice said behind me, the same unmistakable voice of popular boy Billy Hargrove who had my mother's towel in his hand as he walked towards me.

"Actually yes, thank you." I said as I took the towel from his hand, hoping to end the conversation there.

"I thought you didn't swim?" He pondered looking at me, clearly not finished with what he was going to say.

"I can, I just choose not to." I told him, packing her towel and shoes away in my bag.

"How come?"

I finally looked up to him; his head was tilted down and to the left slightly as he watched me with his entrancing blue eyes, calculating all my subtle reactions.

"You work here Hargrove, can you not see how goddamn busy this place gets? There's kids everywhere to dodge the whole time I'm in the water, people have got beach balls they're throwing around and there is no room left to just swim." I answered him, keeping eye contact as I felt compelled to explain myself to him.

"So you like it private then?" He questioned me, lifting a piece of chewing gum to his lips before he actually began to chew it.

"Yeah, I guess I do. I'll see you around Billy." I said trying to move around him but he didn't budge, and neither did the smirk on his face.

"You know, I could teach you if you like?"

The breath went out of me as I composed myself, "What?"

"Well, you see, I know all the styles," he began, lowering his voice as he listed each one off, "freestyle, butterfly, breaststroke."

"Okay, no. First of all, I'm not allowed; the house is like a goddamn fortress at the moment-"

"Not allowed to what, have fun?" He quizzed me with a small shake of his head and an innocent look on his face.

"Second of all," I continued like I didn't hear him, "I don't think I need any swimming lessons, thanks though." I finished.

"Oh you see, I think you do. I just don't think you've had the right teacher; come to think of it, there is a good pool out at Motel 6 on Cornwallis. Very quiet, you know, very private. Shall we say tonight, eight o'clock?" Billy lowered his head down to mine even more and spoke softly so that no one could hear him.

I stood closer to him and kept eye contact as I replied, "If you think you're going to entice me to have sex with you through swimming metaphors-"

"Melissa come on, let's go home!" My mother called from outside the changing rooms, but neither me or Billy looked away from each other.

"You would be absolutely right I'll be there at 7:30 no earlier no later, coming!" I rushed out so she wouldn't suspect anything.

"See you there." He whispered.

I walked out from behind him and speed walked over to meet her at the changing room exit so I could avoid as many questions from her as possible.

"Have a nice day Miss and Mrs wheeler!" Billy waved at us as we left.

"Thank you." She replied in a horribly suggestive way causing me to gag and shoo her out the exit; feeling someone looking at me, I looked back to see Billy, who gave me a wink before I left to follow my mum back to my car.

"What was that about?" She asked me as soon as we were sat in the car.

"What was what about?" I replied, giving her her purse she asked for on the phone to try and distract her from the situation.

"You and Billy Hargrove, the young, attractive, muscular new lifeguard." She explained practically drooling over the thought of him.

"Oh, me and Billy, right, yeah we go to the same school." I told her starting up the car.

"What?" Her being genuinely confused this time.

"Same English class, we were just talking about what we were doing for the project we've been assigned. All harmless." I finished softly with an innocent smile.

"I know honey, I trust you. So, where can we get some food from, I'm starving!" She exclaimed.

Me too ma, but I'm not hungry for food.

#randomperson351 #billy hargrove #stranger things #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove x female reader #lifeguard billy hargrove #do not repost

[laughableillusions]

Modern AU Dark Brotherhood Headcanons:

I’m not usually a fan of Skyrim Modern AUs, but the DB just really hits different:

The sanctuary is actually this big mansion/boarding house in the woods off Falkreath, it’s actually kind of got a meth/crack house vibe and they got a pretty good deal on it. They’re still in the process of fixing it up so it doesn’t look all that great

On their website, if you want to live there in the terms and conditions you have to agree to it literally says that they are assassins…many times a would-be tenant has skipped over this and is met with a nasty surprise

The actual Black door is in the basement, it’s piled high behind a bunch of boxes and the night mother is behind the black door as well (it’s basically the Skyrim sanctuary under the boarding house so it’s kind of basically a bunker)

Cicero is still the keeper, he worked as a clown for a while before he went off his meds and killed one of his co-workers as a contract. He pleaded insanity for the murqder and has been held in a mental hospital for the past 8 years until he’s finally let out and picked up by Astrid in her mini-van (bc he can’t drive)

Arnbjorn dresses like a mix of an average dad™️ and also a punk (cargo shorts and socks with sandals but he’s wearing a spiked leather biker jacket with a Rob Zombie shirt)

Astrid used to be a highschool math teacher, she was fired due to lack of funding and ended up joining the brotherhood

Cicero does take his psychosis meds now but he still talks in 3rd person and is overall his vanilla self

Gabriella unironically shops at hot topic and makes alt thirst traps on tiktok

Festus was a community college professor but was fired after…well…killing a student with magic

Nazir is the only other person who has a car, bc he, Astrid, Arnbjorn, and Veezara are the only ones who know how to drive (Veezara is the only other member who can touch Nazir’s car)

Veezara used to be a government worker before he quit to join the brotherhood, he was raised as a Shadowscale ofc, but he has the most in depth knowledge of the police system

Most of them take the bus/train to get to their contracts…the most ambitious perhaps even ride their bikes

#HAHAHAHA #skyrim #the elder scrolls #skyrim headcanons #modern au #the dark brotherhood #astrid skyrim #arnbjorn #veezara #cicero skyrim #skyrim cicero #festus

[harlowhockeystick]

You accept a friend’s invite to join her at her co-worker’s pool party. You’re there primarily for the food, the fun, and to get your mind off things. You knew full well you didn’t really know anyone there besides your friend, but you take this as an opportunity to make new friends and connections. Well, you made a connection alright: one with this guy named Sidney, his hair just beginning to turn into salt-and-pepper. The attraction between the two of you was immediate.

this this this. this. maybe this friend works for the pens, trainer perhaps? and you're one of like, a few people, who nobody else knows. and sidney's interest is peaked, when he sees the pretty girl sitting by herself poolside while she talks with trainer (insert friend here, idk hannah or something). he asks hey who's the girl over there by hannah? and he gets a straggled answer, something like um idk new girl ig. and sidney is determined to figure out who this new girl is. will this new girl be on staff? will he see this new girl again or will he be forced to think about her for the next few weeks? he holds his breath, when he sees hannah and new girl headed his way. he tries really hard not to think about that tight swimsuit new girl has on, that's extremely low cut. so low cut that if it were any lower she'd be giving the people what they want. hannah introduces new girl to the group, saying these are the people i work with, and you notice right away that sidney holds onto your hand a little too long. longer than the other guys did, at least. and she notices too the little bit of salt and pepper on the front of his hairline. she's never thought about that being attractive, but it's just something about him...whatever energy or vibe he's giving off is surely helping his case for being sexiest man at the pool party. so, nearly two hours later, people are starting to gather their things and sidney just so happens to be leaving when you are. he offers to walk you to your car, even though sidney's car is on the other direction up the block. he also makes sure to awkwardly ask for get your number so he can take you out some time.

thirst night

#my asks #thirst night #18+ #j's hc #sidney crosby