#i also think about him having sex in that verse and well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chelseeebe · 9 months

Text

seven minutes in heaven.

a/n: pure self indulgent smut here i really have no other way to describe this lmfao. i wrote this all in about three hours so please excuse any mistakes bc i had to get the idea out while it was still fresh in the mind. don’t get me wrong i love dominant eddie but let’s be real he’s just not, is he? he’s a fumbling little virgin and i love that

18+. smut. alcohol. sex with someone in the room (don’t do this. this is fiction.) eddie is so pathetically down bad for reader and also a virgin! they’re in college rather than hs bc i’m too old to be writing about teenagers here

‎♡‧₊˚

eddie’s insanely nervous when the bottle starts spinning, anticipating the dread of having to get in that tiny closet with well.. literally anyone.

he wasn’t exactly well versed when it came to sexual encounters. he’d barely just kissed a girl for the first time last year and had been successful in avoiding any and all games of this nature. it’s not like he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself nor disappoint whichever poor soul had to stuff themselves into that closet with him.

it spins and spins until it lands on chrissy and some dude he’d just met tonight. breathing a silent sigh of relief as he now gets a further seven minutes to think up some excuse as to why he couldn’t kiss his match.

his ringed finger circles the top of the glass bottle, clinking against it in some unrecognisable beat. maybe he could run to the bathroom as soon as they came out? at least he’d have to miss another go, be free of the embarrassment a little while longer.

eddie’s eyes glide around the circle, eyeing up the potential matches. there’s robin, who absolutely not interested in him and especially not anyone of his gender. nancy, she’s cute but one hundred percent not his type and he’s sure that the fact both of her exes are sat in the room would mean they could get out of kissing. a few other girls that he’s sure would kiss him but they wouldn’t be thrilled about it. then there’s you. sat with your legs crossed, skirt riding up your supple thighs and a shirt that hung low enough that you shouldn’t have even bothered wearing one.

he only notices that he’s staring when steve makes some lewd comment about the noises coming from the closet. tearing his eyes off of your chest and onto the rowdy man.

oh shit, what if it lands on a guy? at least maybe they could just shuffle off and pretend to make kissy noises, see that’d be easy.

before he’s able to jump up and run off, chrissy and the unnamed guy stumble out of the closet, giggling with their cheeks flushed.

oh god oh god oh god.

‘ya have fun in there?’ steve bellows, clearly intoxicated and obviously way too eager to have his turn. why couldn’t he just be more like him, eddie thinks.

steve spins the bottle again. going round and round and round until it stops, the lipped edge facing you.

please no. please literally anyone other than him.

if he was clueless with the other girls he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.

‘oh shiiit,’ steve hisses as he sends the bottle flying again.

it slows down just before him, thinking he’d escaped once again until the glass stops. pointing right at his gormless face. he blinks at the bottle, trying with all his might to send it flying again through some undiscovered telekinetic energy or some shit.

it doesn’t. obviously. because he’s not fucking superman.

‘come on,’ you speak, stood before him with your hand extended. oh fuck. he’s not sure he can even take your hand. it’s far too clammy and he’d expose his super-virgin status.

he groans getting up from the floor, gingerly taking your hand and following you through the corridor to the closet. his heart in his throat the entire time. he thinks he might just throw up. unsure of if it’s from the anticipation or just sheer terror of having to try and kiss you.

with your fucking tiny skirt and your perfect tits pressed against him. there’s no way he won’t pop a fucking boner. oh god, what if-

‘you okay?’ you ask, shuffling into the small space opposite with the tiny flecks of light shining on your smile. he hadn’t even noticed you’d shut the door, too caught up in his own head to realise that this was now and he was going to have to do something before you ran out of there laughing.

‘yeah- yeah,’ nodding frantically as he attempts to collect himself. maybe you didn’t wanna kiss him? you’d make some polite excuse about having a boyfriend or something and then you could stand and make small talk for the excruciatingly long seven minutes.

‘good,’ you mumble before closing the already tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a haste.

eddie’s head is empty. absolutely nothing going on inside. frozen in time as your lips move against his. he should do something. he just doesn’t know what.

‘what? you never kissed a girl before?’ you scoff, pulling away slightly. are you mocking him? or is this flirting? fuck, why don’t they make books for this kinda shit?

‘y-yeah i have..’ he mumbles, arms still limply hung around his sides. if you could see his face right now, he’d be comparable to a ripe beetroot.

‘so kiss me back then?’ you giggle, connecting your lips once again, soft hand coming to caress his warm cheek.

okay, yeah. just.. kiss back.

he does what he thinks is right, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move with yours. this is good, he thinks. it feels right.

your other hand reaches out to grab his wrist, moving his hand to rest on your waist. giggling into his mouth, your breath tasting like alcohol and a hint of mint. it’s sweet, addicting almost as he chases the taste with his mouth.

adrenaline racing through his veins when your hand leaves his wrist and tangles into his hair, fingernails tracing along his sensitive scalp. he has to restrain himself from moaning into your mouth. it’s an entirely new sensation for him, makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants you to just tug it, pull his head back with your delicate fingers.

your knee slides between his legs, thick thigh nudging the growing bulge in his pants. letting out the most embarrassing noise into your mouth. before he even has time to curse himself for it your tongue slips into his mouth, using the opportunity to push your chest further into his.

deciding now to be brave, his hand shakily meets your shoulder, holding you in that exact position. he could stay here forever, he wouldn’t need anything else in life. ever.

your lips pull back slightly and he whimpers. literally whimpers in response to the sudden lack of attention. feeling your smile grow against his now swollen lips. who the fuck whimpers? if he hadn’t already established his virgin-ness, he definitely had now.

‘is that good, yeah?’ you breathe, the words almost sending him into cardiac arrest. they sound as if they’re dipped in honey coming from your sweet lips.

he nods quickly, unable to form a coherent response without looking like an utter fool. opening his eyes just enough to see you staring up at him through your lashes. if he weren’t leant against the wall, he’s sure he’d collapse into a puddle of goo.

‘what if i do.. this?’ palm sliding down over his neck and heaving chest before stopping at his belt buckle, waiting for a sign to continue.

his adams apple bobs as he swallows and you take it as a compliment and sliding your hand on top of his very obvious boner.

he’s a goner.

grip tightening on your shoulder as his breath stutters. willing himself not to cum in his pants right then and there. he would never ever live that down. not with that meathead harrington who would definitely pull him up on it the second you left.

‘oh yeah?’ you remark, smirking in the darkness at his pathetic stature. slowly moving your fingers as you palm him through his jeans. your hardened nipples brushing against his chest because of fucking course you weren’t wearing a bra.

there’s no way he’s making it out of this cupboard alive.

‘h-holy shit,’ he chokes out, eyelids fluttering as he fights off fainting. his head is fuzzy, sorta like how he felt when he got high and jerked off except so so much better.

‘maybe we could.. continue this later?’ muttering quietly so as to avoid anyone outside hearing.

he’s well aware that you only have at most a minute or so left before someone rips open that door and reveals the pitiful mess he is. the sentence doesn’t register for a few seconds until he realises what you meant.

‘y-yes,’ he finally responds, overly eager, ‘please,’ ashamed at how desperate he sounded. he’s sure that he’d kill someone for just one extra minute in here with you. not entirely sure how he would be able to hold on until later.

you don’t reply with words, mashing your lips together one last time before someone hammers on the door, signalling that his seven minutes in actual heaven were over.

‘get out you horny fucks, i want a turn!’ steve jokes from the other side, making you spring apart before he comes crashing into the room.

you smile at him again, seemingly so innocent when he knows you’re anything but.

the bright light of the hallway makes him blink before you bound off back to whoever’s room you were playing him. leaving him with the worlds most awkward stiffy and absolutely no way to hide it from the prying eyes of the fellow players.

‘god damn munson, are you alright?’ steve laughs at his outwardly flustered appearance. eddie is so fucking grateful that the boy is too invested in getting his turn to pay full attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.

sliding into his spot, discreetly moving one of the cushions to his lap. he doesn’t give a shit about the game, too busy wondering just when later would be.

it goes on and on.

robin and nancy head off to the closet, receiving a few woos from the gaggle of people.

then it lands on argyle and jonathan, the larger man having to drag jonathan into the closet with an excited wiggle of his brows.

steve’s fuming at every turn that isn’t his, throwing his hands into the air when it lands on anyone other than him.

and then the bottle goes spinning again, stopping on you. eddie’s not sure if it’s jealousy that it could land on anybody else or desperate hope that it lands on him again.

it doesn’t, goes flying right past him and ends up stopping right in front of steve who jumps up, absolutely ecstatic that he finally gets to go into that damn closet.

eddie’s eyes meet yours, ducking his head slightly and hoping that the searing envy wasn’t so apparent on his features. you give him a little shrug and that same damning smile before getting off the floor.

‘c’mon then big boy,’ rolling your eyes as steve pulls you into the closet.

eddie’s seething with jealousy and he’s not even sure why. you weren’t his like, this wasn’t an exclusive contract that meant you could only play the game with him. near enough drawing blood as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. it’s the thought of it. of steve and his big hands and his exuding levels of confidence. infuriating him to no end.

‘you good bro?’ jonathan nudges his elbow, completely unaware that he had been glaring at the same stain on the carpet for what must have been minutes.

‘me? yeah.. i’m good,’ standing to grab himself another beer. thank fuck the boner had subsided. at one point he had seriously considered disappearing to the bathroom to relieve himself but a few thoughts of his sixth grade math teacher naked had killed it completely.

he pops the top off with his ring, taking a long hard swig of the beer, counting the seconds until you’d reappear from the hallway. this would be the perfect time to grow some goddamn balls and show you how he felt. he could slide right into the spot next to you, maybe even extend an arm around your shoulder. you know, really hammer it home.

‘it’s been seven minutes,’ he blurts out instead, appearing more as a jealous weirdo than the cool, outgoing guy he so wished to be. stupid. internally cussing himself out.

‘you were in there for eight minutes, dude,’ robin laughs, shoulders shaking at his eagerness. great, now everyone in the room knew he was a possessive, jealous freak.

‘hah.. yeah right,’ shuffling back to his spot with the worst attempt at playing at cool that he’d ever seen. swallowing the gigantic lump in his throat and watching the doorway like a fucking hawk.

‘seven minutes stevie.. that’s it,’ your voice echoes and you finally reappear, pulling at the strap of your shirt, readjusting it to its rightful position on your shoulder.

‘holy shit,’ steve remarks, his stupidly perfect hair all messed up, red cheeks to match. eddie longs to grab his collar and pummel his fist into his face. he doesn’t of course, that’d make him look really normal.

instead he chooses to read the label of the beer bottle rather intently, ignoring the feeling of your eyes boring into him. perhaps later would never arrive and he’d just have to move on with his life.

the party dies down and eventually the game gets abandoned, party goers slinking off home or to the bedrooms or as argyle had, passing out on the couch. now would be the perfect time to scarper off to his dorm, not like anyone would notice he was gone. you certainly wouldn’t. not with steve hanging around your feet like a lost puppy.

when the music cuts out, he knows it’s time to go. later was quite clearly not coming. and neither was he. well, he would. just when he got home.

‘well, i’m going to bed,’ you announce, pushing yourself from the couch, staring directly at him. is that a hint? is this later? god, he doesn’t know.

hesitating just a moment too long as steve interjects first, ‘me too.. you don’t mind if i crash here, do you?’

your eyebrows raise slightly, still staring him down. waiting for a response well, for anything from eddie.

‘i-i’ll take the couch, if that’s okay?’ thinking that maybe your lack of response was also a hint? it’s really not clear and he just wishes that you’d directly tell him what to do.

‘sure.. knock yourself out,’ you shrug, a tinge of disappointment in your voice. so it was a hint. you wanted eddie to volunteer to stay in your room, he gets it now! now that it’s way too late.

‘great! well, i guess we’re roomies,’ steve smirks, gazing over at you. disgustingly smug in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back. that should be him. if only he wasn’t such a bumbling idiot he might’ve been the one leading you up the stairs. fingers sprawled out on your back and a mischievous grin to match.

he takes his spot on the couch, shuffling out of the denim jacket that had clung to him all night. he’s sure he can hear a distant banging, some muffled moans and a squeaky mattress. or maybe it’s his subconscious playing cruel, horrid tricks on him. whatever it is, he hates that it’s got him excited. it’s incredibly disgusting and perverted but he can’t help it. he’d sported a slight chub for most of the night which was definitely not helping right now.

tossing on the uncomfortable couch until his head is buried in the cushion and he can’t hear it anymore. certainly rock solid as his eyes squeeze shut. oh fuck. the bathroom seemed like a perfectly valid idea now, that wasn’t weird right?

just before he can convince himself to get up and go the stairs creak and he can hear a soft padding of feet climbing down. freezing in his spot, hips pressed into the soft cushion so as to not give away his precarious position. it’s just someone getting water, at least he hopes.

‘are you a fuckin’ idiot?’ your voice whispers harshly from the doorway, muttering curses under your breath as you stumble across the room to the couch.

‘w-what?’ he speaks, turning his head but leaving his body flat against the back of the sofa. now he definitely didn’t want you to see that.

‘you were supposed to- fuck, where are you?’ groaning as your toe collides with the coffee table, still blindly feeling your way to the couch.

‘here,’ he calls, holding his arm out for you to find.

using his voice to finally find the stupid couch, fumbling around as your leg slings over his sideways turned thighs, ‘why are you lying like that? move,’ speaking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the gentle giant on the opposite sofa.

your bossiness certainly doesn’t make matters any better, his dick straining against the denim as he reshuffles, lying flat on his back. he’s grateful that you’d straddled his thighs and not his raging boner.

‘you were supposed to say that you were staying with me, you idiot,’ sitting tall atop his legs.

his hands are suspended in the air, hesitant to touch you. or touch the wrong part of you even. eddie’s brain reboots when you shuffle upwards, mouth running dry as the cogs turn ever so slowly to formulate a reply.

‘i- wha? i thought.. you and steve.. uh, in the closet?’ his eyes somewhat adjusting to the darkness, just about making out your figure and your furrowed brows. oh god it’s so hot- you’re so hot when you’re mad. his mind flashing back to that dingy closet and how fucking good your hand felt in his hair.

‘no,’ you grimace, ‘i don’t want to fuck steve, i want to fuck you.. are you stupid?’ coming to place your hands on his chest. sure that you could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. ‘he just touched my tits a little and besides, i hid in the bathroom until he passed out.. you are stupid.’

his mouth opens and subsequently shuts again without any words forming. there weren’t any. yes. yes he was stupid. quite clearly. most people probably would’ve gathered what was going on when you’d fondled his balls and very obviously stated that you wanted to fuck him later. well, eddie wasn’t most people.

‘you do?’ is all that he manages to squeeze out, sounding like a small child. eyes shining bright in the little light leaking through the curtains.

‘oh my god,’ you complain, leaning down to connect your lips, wanting to shut him up if nothing else.

even now, he’s still taken aback but he’s not completely brain dead yet as his hands find your hips. see? didn’t even need your guidance this time.

your hips grind down against his, pyjama shorts riding up as you move. eddie’s positively gutted that he can’t see them in this light, he knows they’re soft, can feel that at least. he’s more confident now, a new air about him that just wasn’t there mere hours ago. he thinks that maybe it’s because there isn’t a room full of his friends listening to your every move outside.

that or the sheer level of arousal coursing his veins.

but his tongue is the one to slip into your mouth, noting that you’d definitely brushed your teeth and he wished he’d done the same. your fingers walk the length of his chest, coming between your bodies to his belt buckle.

this is it. he’s going to lose his virginity. and to you no less. oh fuck.

you pull away, tapping on his chest with your other hand, ‘sit up,’ forefinger hooked into one of his belt loops.

he obliges immediately, shifting to sit back against the arm rest. making sure to hold onto your waist as he does. you feel so soft, his fingers melding into your skin perfectly. the cold metal of his rings leaving tiny indentations as his grip tightens. he’d do anything you asked him to, especially if you were poised above him like this.

your hand goes back to working his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans and working them down his thighs. brushing against his length with your fingers. he’s almost panting, head lolling back instinctively, stifling the ungodly moan that had found itself in the back of his throat.

‘look at me,’ you whisper, still tracing the veiny cock beneath you.

his head shoots up, looking back into your eyes. desperate to please you, abiding by any and all instructions that you barked just incase he fucked this up. he would have to pack his bags and flee the country if he did. not sure that he would be able to live with himself.

‘are you a virgin?’ you ask quietly and he feels his cheeks flush immediately.

was it that obvious? the fact that he’d popped a boner the second you’d kissed him was probably a dead giveaway, actually. you don’t seem to care.. he has no reason to lie. unless this is all one big prank and you’re actually about to climb off of him and start laughing.

it’s totally shameful but actually that’d probably still get him off.

‘yeah..’

you nod, taking your eyes off of his to look down at his cock. there’s a tiny wet patch which had actually most likely been there for hours when he thinks about it.

‘you want to, don’t you? we don’t have to.. could suck you off or something?’

‘n-no no, i want to.. trust me, i want to,’ sounding as desperate as humanly possible. over his dead body would he would fuck this up. now he’s not sure how long he’ll last but he’s sure it won’t be long.

‘okay.. good,’ you smirk, bringing the waistband of his boxers down. his cock springs up to his stomach and his eyes flit shut. was his dick small? is that something you cared about? he didn’t have much to go off here except from porn and even he knew that wasn’t exactly realistic.

he can hear you spit into your hand and he’s back to full attention, watching as it drops into your palm and trying his hardest not to cum right now. with your chin shining and your lips wet, it’s all too much.

and when your tender hand covered in your spit wraps around the base of his cock, he chokes on nothing. fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in your hips, certain that he’s probably hurting you but unable to let go without busting a nut.

you pump your hand a few times, watching intently as he struggles to stay with it. it’s heaven. no no, it’s better than heaven. better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. and the man had gotten creative with some of his masturbation sessions to say the least.

a snore rips through the room and it’s then that he’s reminded of the other man passed out on the other side of the room, ‘shit.. sh-should we carry on?’ nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘just be quiet, he won’t wake up,’ ignoring the drunkard and continuing to pump your hand.

eddie’s unsure if it’s you or if he’s feeling things but he can feel a something wet on his thigh. not brave enough to take his hand down there to find out.

‘you sure you want to?’ leaving your hand at the base of his cock to move yourself upwards.

‘y-yes.. please,’ nodding like a maniac.

that’s all the confirmation you need to shift your shorts out of the way, sitting straighter on your knees and positioning his tip at your sopping entrance.

he’s not prepared one bit for how intense it feels. the sensation sends shockwaves through his entire body, sending his head spinning.

lowering yourself down onto him with a soft sigh, hands now finding his shoulders for leverage. eddie’s about to start levitating. you’re so warm, enveloping him inside just right. the second you move, he’ll probably start crying.

his eyes struggle to stay open, rolling to the back of his head. moaning far too loudly when your hips move forward causing your hand to clamp right over his mouth. as if that wouldn’t make him cum ten times faster.

‘shh,’ you hiss, working your hips at a steady rhythm. soft squeaks leaving your own mouth with every bounce but keeping your eyes steady on him. enjoying the sight of him coming completely undone underneath your body.

your hand leaves his shoulder for a second, manoeuvring his hand onto your chest, ‘touch me,’ mewling when he gets the gist and starts palming your tit. the feel of your hardened nipples underneath his palm only sending him hurtling faster towards his already fast approaching orgasm.

he’s one second away from blurting out that he’s in love with you. which he doesn’t think is far off of the truth to be honest.

you trust him enough to not start babbling and take your hand from his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulder again to quicken your pace. clit catching against the patch of pubes he wishes he had time to tame. it was driving him fucking insane, knowing that he was the reason you were panting and cursing under your breath.

there it is. that familiar sensation of something tightening in his stomach, except a hundred times more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. quickly shaking his head to give you some forewarning though it’s pretty useless.

‘f-fuck, oh fuck,’ lifting his hips from the couch to empty himself into you. eddie could’ve never imagined that this is what you would feel like. pure ecstasy vibrating through his limbs, spurts of white hot pleasure exploding behind his eyelids.

his thighs shaking as he collapses back into the couch, still mumbling a bunch of sorries as he attempts to float back down to planet earth. he’d lasted a measly few minutes and for that, he wanted to curl up and die. if it weren’t for the fact that you were so fucking sexy and so warm and so perfect- he probably would’ve lasted at least a couple minutes more.

eddie’s eyes stay closed as you climb off of him, readjusting your shorts as you settle on his thighs once again, ‘you back in the room yet?’ chuckling quickly, leering down at him.

a strangled laugh falls out of his lips, daring to look at you. ashamed even though he knows it’s not that bad. sure he’d lasted longer than at least one other person out there.

‘sorry.. i swear, gimme like.. like ten minutes..’ doing everything in his power to convince you not to leave. because truthfully if you stayed like this, he probably would be hard again in a matter of minutes.

‘hey.. it’s okay,’ you lean down, chest flat against his, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it,’ head perfectly tilted to gaze up into his eyes. maybe he wouldn’t need ten minutes at all. not with the way you’re looking at him like that, doe eyed and whispering sweet words of encouragement into his ear.

‘wanna.. uh,’ the words stick in his throat, ‘wanna get you off,’ blushing despite the fact his dick had literally just been buried inside of you. it’s ridiculous really.

‘you can.. don’t worry,’ pressing your lips to the stubble beneath his chin.

his cock twitches at the sensation and he truly realises how completely pathetic he was. fully at your mercy but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #stranger things x you #eddie munson fanfic

4K notes · View notes

lucyandthepen · 9 months

Text

salted caramel | lmh ( m )

you hadn’t been aware that mark’s jealousy followed the rules of baseball — three strikes, and he snaps?

read the first part here!

pairing: barista!bf!mark x reader verse: college!au rating: r warnings&tags: unprotected sex, mentions of creampies (although not an actual one), hickeys, possessiveness and jealousy, exhibitionism, sort of phone sex in conjunction with said exhibitionism, oral (m!receiving), mark has an understated but unending obsession with mc’s stomach, tummy bulges, we always love an implicit bigdick!mark, donghyuck is kind of a little shit and basically he has to cross a few lines for this “plot” to get to where it gets word count: 20.3k

a/n: this is a bit rushed and panicked because I basically wrote it in a feverish 2.5ish days… i’m so sorry that the pacing might be a little off, especially since I can never tell if it’s actually too fast or not. this is also unedited and unbeta’d but oh well because i never edit my stuff before posting and just re-edit when I re-read! regardless, i hope it’s something that you can enjoy, and i couldn’t pick between sweetest bf ever!mark and hottest mf ever!mark, so i guess you get a little bit of both!

if you liked it, please consider reblogging to support (especially because this may get flagged for mature content)!

You should have noticed it the first time, but in your overall defense, you find most things that you take note of about Mark Lee to be more on the highly positive and greatly endearing side — or, maybe, you just have a tendency to paint him in that kind of light.

You can’t really help it; he’s still got that halfway shy, softly adoring look in his eyes whenever he sees you, which is more often now than ever before, and you just can’t do anything but reciprocate, if only to see his eyes grow a little brighter. You wonder if Mark’s aware that if this were a Shakespearean scenario, you’d easily fall on your sword for him without question, for as long as he asked, but you don’t think there’s any pressing need to remind him — not with the way you spend most of your free time figuring out ways to be with him. You’re certain he should know, what with the fact that every time he looks at you, even just a glimpse, your gaze is always on him, ready to make eye contact whenever he turns his head — something he often acknowledges with one of those signature blushes that spread like wildfire across his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears.

It also should be unmistakably clear that you’re head over heels for him, given how at least once a week, he’s got his face buried between your legs in an attempt to hear the thing he wants you to say the most (see: his name, in varying pitches and decibels) — but if he doesn’t notice then, you can’t hold it against him; Mark’s mouth is so attentive that you doubt his mind is anywhere else apart from what inch of you his tongue is going to meet next in that moment. At least, that much is true for you.

He should at least know, what with you waiting for his classes to end so you can walk to Starbucks for his afternoon shift; you even race the twenty-minute distance to the Department of Mathematics, still holding your European Renaissance History textbook from your last lecture, just to make sure you’re there right as he gets out — a fact he has to know is an act of devotion, considering how often he finds you heaving for air and leaning your back against the brick wall outside the Accounting 150 Lab. Even his professor knows you as Mark Lee’s admirer, which is all well and good, but if you had the breath to spare, you’d correct his terminology for accuracy. Girlfriend. You’re Mark Lee’s girlfriend.

It’s a fact you don’t mind reminding him of but that you actually have to do quite often, because when you call Mark the appropriate counterpart — boyfriend — his eyes still widen, like he’s hearing it for the first time. It’s cute, just like everything else about him. You just have to wonder, at times, if he doesn’t believe you.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter; you’ll just keep telling him.

You don’t have any classes with Mark this semester, which is a shame, considering your favorite pastime over the last few months had just been to stare at his side profile and wish he’d look over so you could kiss him, but the fact that you spend almost every day with him now, using that time to remind him of how much you want to kiss him and actually getting it to do it right then and there, pretty much more than makes up for your previous schedule of daydreaming.

However, hanging out with him doesn’t always mean you’re just with him; you came to learn this after the first week of the new semester, and you’ve now gotten used to the fact that with Mark Lee sometimes comes his band of tall, often loud friends.

The loudest by far is Lee Donghyuck, the mysterious figure last semester that you’d only known by one syllable, now easily recognizable (and no longer enigmatic by any means to you) by his booming voice and even more demanding personality. He’s supremely outgoing, a trait you can’t say you mind, but there’s an interesting contrast between Mark, who tends to say things after carefully considering his ideas, and Donghyuck, who seems to just burst out in fits of impulsive rambling that often leads to some kind of semi-structured debate. It kind of gives you whiplash, in a funny, slightly perplexing way.

The whole friend group likes to meet up at Starbucks while Mark is on his shift, and now that they’ve come to know you as that girl Mark didn’t teach a single thing in College Algebra to but still somehow got lucky with (something you’ve wasted immense efforts into correcting but have ultimately failed to do so), you now find yourself sitting with them, all somehow waiting for who appears to be the nucleus of this group to stop taking coffee orders and hang up his (cute, but you’re the only one that thinks so, actually) green apron.

Again, you don’t mind it; new people aren’t an issue to you, and you’re also interested in finding out more about Mark through those closest to him. You get to see the few ways they’re alike in contrast to the staggering number of things that make them amusingly different from one another. Despite the broad spectrum of their intersecting interests, you’ve come to learn, through the conversations you’ve had to sit through over the last month, that they have varying opinions on said interests. For instance, you know they’re all into video games, Japanese manga, and long-winding fantasy movies, but every conversation takes flight the moment there’s even a spark of dissent from one person — and the source, usually (and quite unfortunately), is Lee Donghyuck himself.

Today is no exception.

“Dude, you’re crazy,” Zhong Chenle practically seethes. Whether by sheer coincidence or actual desire, he’s the one who most often finds himself staring Donghyuck down, trying to bend the latter’s will into admitting defeat. Donghyuck, on the other hand, has mastered the art of looking supremely unperturbed, especially when Chenle is in the heat of his rage. “The ninth was the worst, hands down.”

“Art and rendering were so solid.” Donghyuck raises a finger, and you’re not sure if it’s to start off a list or to shut Chenle up. You don’t want to ask, anyway, too busy finding amusement in the shifting expressions of despair, rage, anguish, and murderous intent on the latter’s face to speak up. You presume that’s why everyone else isn’t stopping them — or maybe they’re just preparing their own defenses and points to raise. “Intuitive combat and flawless combo chains. The fucking open world? Which other installment in the franchise offers that much depth in the gameplay?”

“Depth? Do you even hear yourself right now?” Chenle grips his head so tightly that when he pulls his hands away, there are actual red marks across his forehead and temple, and his bangs are askew. “What kind of depth comes from cloned movesets? The character designs are so stupidly traditional too. And—”

“There’s a unique kind of beauty in familiarity.”

“The open world was a disaster,” Chenle plows on. “It was so empty, and the map was the farthest thing from intuitive. It’s quite literally the worst thing KOEI has ever done. That’s exactly why they went back to the limited map strategy in later installments. Even the spin-offs.”

“I thought the grappling and ambush systems were pretty intuitive. Ingenious, even.”

It’s a singularly amusing sight — Chenle is one insult to his pride away from imploding, and Donghyuck is just checking the dirt under his nails like he’s waiting in line to take his school ID photo. Park Jisung, one of the quieter ones in the bunch, tries to diffuse the tension by clearing his throat and going ‘I actually really liked the Age Of Calamity Zelda one they released with all the different campaigns,’ but that just goes unnoticed by either party.

“You once failed an ambush play just because you were stuck behind a wall you couldn’t scale. Don’t say shit about the ambush and grappling mechanics.”

“Unlike some people sitting around this table, I learn from my mistakes. That’s also probably why some people — not naming names — just can’t appreciate the artistic beauty that is Dynasty Warriors 9.”

Donghyuck doesn’t even look up from his cuticles when Chenle explodes.

“You’re fucking impossible!”

“Can you guys relax?” Lee Jeno, who had somehow miraculously found the space and silence in the breaths between the entire argument to doze off, opens one eye, only slightly irate. “You’re making a scene over a dead game franchise.”

“It’s not dead; they’re on hiatus,” both Chenle and Donghyuck chime in together, apparently finding a moment of unique solidarity to shoot Jeno down before going back to glaring daggers at each other. Jeno shrugs, gives everyone else at the table an I tried kind of exasperated expression, and settles back into his seat, the one eye already closing before he’s fully folded his arms across his chest.

Your eyes wander away from the group over to the counter. You’re thankful for the fact that most of the time, you just get invited to share a table with them without necessarily being trapped in the middle of a conversation — especially one as heated as the one Chenle is prolonging while jabbing his finger accusingly at Donghyuck, as if he’s trying to pin a crime on the latter instead of just explaining why Donghyuck’s opinion is ‘borne of ignorance.’ When they’re all caught up in their business like this, you end up being able to revel in your more or less unobstructed view of Mark behind the barista’s station, where he’s busy piping an extra helping of whipped cream on top of a strawberry frappuccino for a kid that’s already jumping up and down next to the pick-up station.

The biting winter had already given way to the first signs of spring, and the Starbucks Mark works at has a supremely effective central heating system that allows people to shed their coats. This works in your favor, considering Mark wears nothing but a button-up shirt over his apron while he works, and he’s got this habit of rolling up his sleeves so they don’t catch any stains. You’re pretty sure he has a second motive, though; surely, he’s aware of how the view of his arms, muscles tightening under his skin whenever he even lightly grips something, drives you crazy. You’d bet a month’s allowance he’s doing it on purpose so that you start entertaining the thought of yelling at everyone in the branch to fuck off so you can grab him by the front of his stupid shirt so you can kiss his stupid face. Or ride it.

And for some inexplicable reason, he still has the audacity to act like there’s nothing amiss. When he looks up at you right after pushing the frappuccino towards the little girl, his eyes still brighten, almost innocent in their gaze, the corners of his lips turning up surreptitiously, hiding the smile he seems to save for only you from everyone else in the room.

You smile back, but when he turns away to take someone’s order, you let out a heavy sigh and take a long sip of your vanilla sweet cream cold brew until you start reaching the last dregs of it under the ice. Your brain pretty much cries out in protest, but you know it deserves as much as a mental cold shower for entertaining the thought of asking him to bend you over the counter at five-thirty in the afternoon in a Starbucks.

Stupid Mark. Stupid brain. Stupid fucking people in the room.

The warm breath in your ear alerts you to a slowly approaching presence, but you don’t have the reflexes to turn back to its source before it starts talking.

“Got anything to add to either of our cases, ___________?”

“What?” Your palm comes up to rub your ear as Donghyuck pulls away, laughing lightly. You’re sucked back into the foreground of the conversation, but you’re just as lost now as you had been before you started tuning them out in favor of your lust. “Uh — no. Sorry. To be honest, I know nothing about… sorry, what were you guys talking about again?”

“See, that’s how normal people act,” Jeno grumbles, both his eyes flying open this time. “Instead of hosting a presidential debate about Dynasty Warriors.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” You’re quick to add, and Jeno looks mildly amused at your attempt to still mollify the rest of the group. “I’m sure I would have liked it. If, you know, I actually had been introduced to it at any point in my life.”

“And if you had, I’m sure you’d have the taste to assert alongside me that the seventh installment was revolutionary,” Chenle sniffs, but he’s looking more pointedly at Donghyuck, who’s still ignoring him, save for the fact that he’s now looking at you instead of at his nails (which doesn’t feel like such a great upgrade).

“Nah, she’d be on my side. ___________ looks like she’d appreciate a good, scenic open world and grappling system. Right?”

“Uh…” you say smartly.

“Man, shut up.” Chenle throws his hands in the air before he stands up, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushes it back with astounding force. “Got me so pissed off I need to pee now.”

You have no idea what the correlation is between getting annoyed and needing to use the bathroom, but even if you wanted to bring up your doubts — which you don’t — Chenle is long gone before you can get your thoughts together. It’s only when he’s out of earshot that Donghyuck leans in, almost conspiratorially, to whisper to you again.

“Actually, I think the ninth sucks too. But isn’t it kind of funny how worked up that fucker gets?”

“To be honest, I’ve never known anyone with quite your talent in riling people up,” you admit, and even though you’re not sure what kind of meaning you want attached to that, you notice that he decides to take it as a compliment all on his own, his chest puffing out in pride. “Too bad I have no idea which opinion is really right, or I’d weigh in, too.”

“Not a Dynasty Warriors kind of girl, then?”

“No one is, Hyuck,” Jeno snorts, shaking his head. “You two are the only people I know who still played that past the fifth installment.”

“Fair. I nurture a love for old franchises.” Donghyuck leans back, looking supremely satisfied at how he’s managed to tick off one of his most important ‘to-do’ points of the day. “So what’s your poison, ___________?”

“What’s that mean?”

“You a Gardenscapes kind of girl? Tekken? Maybe you like some good ol’ fashioned LoL?”

“I honestly don’t have the hand-eye coordination to play,” you confess. “I know Mark likes to play PUBG from time to time. I mostly just sit and ask questions, though. The few times I tried playing with him, I swear any normal person would’ve cried. He had to babysit me like crazy. It was a miracle he didn’t throw me out.”

“She even tries to play with him,” Donghyuck whistles lowly. “Dude, how’d Mark get a chick like you?”

“Meaning?”

“You’re way too good for that dope.” His laugh is light and good-natured. “Never thought a moony-eyed weirdo like him would actually wind up with his dream girl — which he’s called you, more than once, by the way. Fucking disgusting, but… I get it. Doesn’t make it less crazy or weird to hear, though.”

“Sorry to put you through that.” You smile, using your straw to stir the contents of your cup. A warmth spreads through your shoulders and down your arms to the tips of your fingers as you digest what Donghyuck’s just said to you, and you find your eyes trailing back to Mark, who’s pulling off his apron. His eyes are already fixed on you, and when you lock gazes, he mouths a wait for me that makes you want to squeeze the life out of something in pure joy. You settle for a soft sigh. “I guess it won’t help if I say your friend over there’s my dream guy.”

“It absolutely will not,” Donghyuck groans, faking a gagging noise that has you laughing. “But tell you what — if you ever get tired of Mark playing PUBG and ignoring you like the clown he is, I’ll find you someone else more your speed.”

“No thanks,” you snort, taking the last sip of your drink. “More than that, I’d just want to be some kind of helpful to him if I ever play with him again.”

“We can help you with that too,” Jisung volunteers. “Jeno taught me the basics. I’m sure he can teach you too.”

“Yeah, and I’m guessing you’d be a better student than mister “how come you didn’t tell me I had to focus the crosshairs myself” over here,” Jeno chuckles, surreptitiously pointing at Jisung when you cast him a questioning look.

“I’m pretty good at sneak attacks myself.” Donghyuck makes a show of pretending to slice your neck before grinning smugly. “We’ll take care of you. Mark won’t know what hit him next time.”

“What’s happening to me next time?”

You feel Mark before you see him, his hand landing on your head lightly and smoothing your hair back in an idle, gentle motion to announce his presence. You look up at him, already beaming, and he returns the favor as his hand settles on your shoulder.

“We were just talking about replacing you. Both as a friend and as a boyfriend, for your poor little dream girl here who’s just too nice to turn you down.” Donghyuck lies like it’s second nature; you wonder if that’s a Finance major thing or just a him thing.

“And you’re offering that to someone who didn’t ask for it?” Mark snorts, nudging Chenle’s bag over so he can sit in the empty spot.

“She’s so caught up in your sticky little web that she can’t struggle against you.” Donghyuck feigns a heavy sigh that suggests he feels sorry for you before he puts a hand on your free shoulder, shaking his head in a convincing kind of pity. “I’ll save you, so don’t worry. Mark can’t keep his grubby hands on you forever. Whenever you need to be saved, I’ll come a-running to free you.”

There’s a tightness on one shoulder that disrupts the balance of your torso, and you find yourself leaning closer to Mark. Your hand finds its way to his knee, giving it a light squeeze under the table, and his grip loosens by a fraction. Donghyuck’s as quick to let go as he is to hang on.

“We were just talking about PUBG,” you correct, and Mark’s eyes snap to you. “I was asking for help — you know, so I won’t drag you down the next time I join in?”

“I don’t mind whatever you do in-game.” He’s quick to comfort you, even if you don’t actually need it, but it feels warm and cold “I’m just glad you wanna try it with me.”

“No, but I kind of want to learn too. So it can be fun for both of us. Also so you don’t have to keep avenging me after five minutes,” you laugh. Mark cracks a smile then, and you don’t realize his expression had been slightly harder until it softens under your gaze.

“Then I’ll teach you next time.”

“No, I want to surprise you with how cool I get. And then next time, I’ll even beat you.” You turn to Donghyuck, slightly unsure. “Uh… I can beat him, can’t I?”

“If you play different teams, yeah,” he confirms. “Trust me. I’ll help you kick his ass.”

“Or we’ll both kick yours,” Mark chuckles, his grasp now tightening and loosening intermittently. He’s massaging your shoulder lightly, and you end up sinking deeper into his side. You don’t miss the slightly nauseated amusement that passes across Donghyuck’s face nor the way he mouths ‘sap’ to Mark, who ignores this comment in its entirety.

“Yo, hotpot at seven? Renjun’s asking,” Chenle announces as he returns to your table, his phone in one hand and a crumpled paper towel in the other. “Jaemin can’t make it, though. Study group or whatever shit he always says.”

“I’m down,” Donghyuck immediately replies, and Chenle’s eyes shoot heavenward, like he’s already asking for the divine strength to not sock Donghyuck in the face later.

“Can’t,” Jeno yawns, both his arms outstretched as he tries to move the sleep out of his spine. “Pre-test tomorrow.”

“Dude, it’s a pre-test,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to study if they’re just testing how much you know before studying.”

“Gotta study all the same.”

“I gotta pass too,” Jisung looks actually apologetic. “I promised my mom I’d help her move some stuff to my aunt’s place tonight.”

“Boring,” Chenle grumbles before turning to the both of you. “Lovebirds?”

“Rain check,” Mark shakes his head. “Family dinner. My brother’s home for the weekend. How about Monday instead? Most of us can’t make it anyway. At least Jaemin doesn’t have study group either.”

“If that’s even what that weirdo’s doing,” Chenle sighs, already punching in a message to send to Renjun. “Fine; I’ll ask about Monday. You guys better actually reply to the goddamn group chat. I can’t coordinate in six different private chats ever again.”

“You can put my name down already,” Mark casts you a sideway glance, and you nod immediately. “Two names, actually.”

“I’m good on Monday too. When we see each other again, I’ll bring some prospects for you to sift through,” Donghyuck adds to you, and you laugh. “Cool guys. Jocks. I know this upperclassman all the girls say is really hot. I think I still have his Messenger from when we did a group discussion last semester.”

“I’ll have Mark look at them so he can reject them all for me,” you promise. Donghyuck feigns affront before looking at Mark in utter disbelief.

“How the fuck did you snag a girl like this, man?”

“I’m pretty sure she once told me I… what did you say?” Mark glances at you amusedly. “I had some moves, I guess.”

“You mean stutter and blush in her presence?” Donghyuck can’t decide how to look at you without being even the slightest bit offensive; he just settles on incredulity. “And that won you over?”

“Most powerful move in the Mark Lee playbook,” you shrug, grinning. “Had me from the first ‘um,’ and he’s had me ever since.”

“You lucky son of a bitch,” Donghyuck snorts, and neither of you misses the slightly abashed but unmistakable smugness in Mark’s face when you lean in to rest your head on his shoulder.

The second time it happens is on that Monday, in a far more noticeable capacity. You just aren’t quick enough to read the signs, as usual.

But in your defense (again), it hadn’t felt all that significant.

“Fuck, this is spicy,” Na Jaemin sucks air in through his teeth and lets it out in a sharp whistle that’s broken by a laugh that’s not necessarily at anything funny. Maybe he’s just laughing at the sheen of sweat across his forehead that he has to wipe off with the other side of his napkin.

Miraculously, the hotpot plan pushes through, with no small amount of effort in coordination on Chenle’s part; he’d even texted you just to make sure he’d gotten the head count right, despite the fact that Mark had already confirmed your attendance twice over. Even the often elusive Na Jaemin, who always seems to have one or another study group to attend on most nights, manages to come and is currently busy mixing his peanut sauce in his little bowl with such vigor that you can’t help but wonder if he’s not trying to drown the mala-flavored strips of meat in it completely.

“That’s why I said you need a bowl of water for dipping, you dimwit,” Donghyuck points his chopsticks at Jaemin’s messy plate in a way you can only describe as nagging, even if that’s actually impossible. “You’ve got super mala breath now.”

“Don’t know about me, but I can smell yours all the way from over here,” Jaemin quips back with an easy kind of nonchalance, hastily ducking the balled-up napkin that goes flying across the table. It lands on the floor behind his chair harmlessly.

It’s nice, you think, that Mark’s friends like to invite you to their outings now; despite all the jokes they’ve made at his expense, they’ve been consistently open to having you around. You’re not necessarily the type of couple that acts in a way that disgusts people into moving to a completely different table anyway, and you allow their conversations to unfold easily without ever interrupting, so you think that this arrangement works for all parties involved.

They’re even louder outside Starbucks, you’ve come to note; the restaurant is significantly busier than the cafe anyway, filled with people on their company dinners, so Mark’s friends all seem to want to rival that boisterous energy. Weirdly, you like it, even when they’re already half off their seats and one (Chenle) is just about to strangle the other (Donghyuck). The laughter flows freely, and there’s a messiness to the whole affair that makes it impossible to feel uncomfortable.

Even Mark pipes in occasionally, offering his opinion on topics he knows much more about than you, and you can’t help but admire how everyone listens to him when he starts to speak, even if he has nothing realistically important to say. His friends might find it odd that you’d been so drawn to him, but they just don’t know that even they’re victims of Mark’s natural magnetism, also falling quiet and eager to hear his voice, his light-hearted laugh, in response to the things they say.

But even when he’s mostly distracted by conversation, there’s a part of him that continuously pays attention to you in his own way. He nudges his ginger and soy sauce bowl towards you with the side of his wrist so you can dip your beef in, even if you’d adamantly declined him giving you your own bowl of it in the first place (you’d always thought you were peanut sauce or nothing kind of girl, but one sneaky venture into Mark’s sauce proved you wrong). His hand hovers over your head when you drop your chopsticks and bend over to pick them up from where they’ve rolled under the table, making sure you’re bump-free when you resurface.

And his palms always, always settle somewhere on you, no matter what he’s doing. If one hand is busy feeding himself, the other is intent on warming your thigh, passing over the denim in slow, steady strokes. His fingers tickle your knee when you laugh, just to make you laugh a little harder — you’d even almost kneed the table at one point, much to Huang Renjun’s alarm. But the most common place for his arm is around you, fingers lightly bunched into the side of your shirt, like he’s worried loosening his grip on you further will cause you to vanish. It keeps him close to you, keeps his scent and warmth washing over you in gentle waves, so much so that you often have to remind yourself that he’ll be the target of much light-hearted mockery if you so much as lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder.

But it’s hard to resist it, especially when his hand seems to be intent on outlining every curve on that side, passing over your hip and dipping into your waist. The motion allows him to slowly but surely lift the fabric of your shirt, up until there’s just enough of an opening for his palm to slip under, and suddenly it’s much warmer on that side, with the light roughness of his hand grazing at your skin. His fingers always stretch apart, like he’s trying to feel as much of you as he can, and the pads of his digits have a tendency to graze the plane of your stomach — his nails sometimes even travel featherlight just next to your navel, etching out words you can’t really decipher. Like he’s writing a message just for you.

It makes you feel like no matter what he’s doing, a part of his mind is always on you.

“You guys want to see that new horror movie? The Ghost Within, I think it’s called,” Jisung asks the group from over at the other end of the table, having to raise his voice significantly to make sure it isn’t swept away by the raucous laughter from across the restaurant. “I think it’s coming out in a week or two.”

“I’d be okay with it,” Renjun shrugs, although he doesn’t look enthused. “Kind of looks like a cliche horror with all those cheap jump scares and shit, but I’m down if you all are.”

A wave of assent passes over the group in general, but you notice Mark doesn’t immediately respond. You take this opportunity to lean in and confess your stance.

“If I have to sit around and watch a ghost pop out at me from a big-ass movie screen, you may never again see me in the same wonderful light you do today,” you warn. “Remember me as I am, not as I will be, Mark Lee.”

He snorts, coughing lightly as a mixture of ginger and fishcake sticks in his throat. “Yeah — we’ll pass, I think.”

“Scaredy-cat,” Donghyuck teases, and you’re surprised that Mark doesn’t come to his own defense. There’s something romantic in him not wanting to be the one to sell you out, but you suppose there’s also a kind of chivalry in being the one to take the bullet.

“Actually, I’m the one who can’t handle it well,” you smile in apology. “Sorry. I don’t have much of a reputation, so to speak, but what elegance may be attached to my name, however misplaced, is something I really want to maintain. At least until I graduate.”

“In short, you don’t want Mark to see you scream and cry,” Chenle deduces. You can’t even find fault in him figuring it out so quickly.

“Bingo.”

“Well, we can solve the problem,” Donghyuck claps his hands, getting everyone’s attention for no good reason. “__________, you sit beside me, and Mark can sit on the far end of the row. With how dark it is, he won’t see anything, and I get to sit next to a cute girl in a movie theater. Win-win.”

“Thanks for the offer,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But it’s not a win-win if I accidentally grab your hand out of instinct.”

“It is to me,” Donghyuck winks, and you feel Mark’s hand stop brushing over your stomach. His fingers curl in lightly, almost like he’s trying to make a fist but can’t quite get to that point out of personal restraint. “Or better yet, you could do what we all think you should do and dump Mark for someone you won’t be ashamed to cry in front of. I, for one, would not even bother to comment on whatever emotions you’re going through in the middle of a movie, so what do you say? It’s a pretty sweet deal, in my humble opinion. Me versus Mark Lee. The showdown of the century, right here in Hai Di Lao.”

You’ve noticed that the more Donghyuck piles onto his little teasing rampage, the more forcefully Mark tugs you over; his fingers aren’t just skimming over your skin but have now grown into the habit of gently pinching it, as if begging for your attention. It feels nice but also a little urgent, although it’s hard for you to understand why; the whole foundation of this group is built on teasing each other until someone (Chenle) snaps and lobs a bottle cap at someone else (Donghyuck), so it should be normal for Mark to be at the receiving end of some light banter.

“Should we ask the hostess to referee the match, then?” You ride along with the joke.

“No way. You’re the one calling the shots.” Donghyuck sits up a little straighter, putting on a smug face. “Okay, pick, __________. Me or Mark; who’s got the better punches?”

You make a show of acting thoughtful, even tapping your chin to pretend considering it deeply, but there was never any doubt on your choice. Still, you can’t really decipher the sudden slowness, the light tremble in Mark’s palm as it travels to your hip, where it settles, heavy, over the curve.

“It’s a complete knock-out,” you finally announce, grinning. “Championship belt goes to Mark.”

“Man, if I had a girlfriend as straight-shooting about her feelings for me as you are about your feelings for Mark, I’d propose in a day, max,” Jeno groans, half-exasperated and half-amused all at once.

“Man must’ve saved a nation or something in his past life,” Donghyuck grimaces. “No way he deserves a girl this hot and crazy about him. Hey — got any tips on stopping natural disasters or something? I could use a sexy, loyal girlfriend in my next life. Or maybe I’ll just poach yours in this one and see what it feels like.”

“I would actually deck you, so don’t even try it,” Mark snorts, his arm now winding full around your waist. You’re flush against his side, and he uses this opportunity to do something he doesn’t often do in front of his friends: show explicit affection by pressing a light kiss just behind your ear. It tickles, his breath grazing your earlobe, and you giggle, squirming in his hold. All he does is smile and pull you in tighter.

The bill’s split eight ways, but Mark��s fishing out cash to pay for your share even before you can get your wallet out from the bottom of your bag; it’s one of those quick, instinctive moves he likes to use on you, where he pushes the money and sends the bill back to the staff before you can even protest in full, so you have to settle on thanking him by returning the earlier favor — landing a peck on his cheek, which flushes a warm and contented pink the moment your lips make contact.

You just pointedly ignore the snickers that run around the table, particularly from Donghyuck and Jaemin.

The group splits ways at the front of the school dorms; most of them head in after their goodbyes, while Chenle backtracks towards his apartment building off-campus, mumbling something about how he hopes his roommate’s in because he accidentally left his key in the bowl next to their doorway. Mark should be piling in with the rest into the dorms, but he has a habit of insisting that he take you to the subway station; you’ve long since given up on convincing him against tagging along, mostly because he looks slightly hurt whenever you try to get him to stay put. You’re not going to complain anyway; for as much as you like being around Mark’s friends, it’s even better when you have this little slice of alone time despite the hassle it brings him.

Your fingers are linked when you walk under the street lights, the campus road leading to the station entrance significantly less busy at this time of evening; it’s cool enough for you to have an excuse to press yourself into Mark’s form, and he accepts this additional burden with an immense amount of grace, his arm finding its way around you again. Two minutes later, his palm is pressed against your bare skin once more, rubbing small, gentle circles just above your pelvis.

A part of you wonders if you’ll be able to do this — lean in, flush against him — when the summer heat starts to stick, but rather than really worrying about the logistics, you realize you’re more hung up on the idea of spending this summer with him.

“Sorry,” Mark murmurs out of the blue. Your eyebrows shoot up, and he looks down at you sheepishly. “Isn’t hanging out with my friends kind of driving you crazy?”

You hum in thought before shaking your head in resolution. “Not really. Not in a bad way, at least. I like how close you guys all are — and how big the group is. It’s usually just Yeji and Jisu with me, and they’re definitely not as rowdy. The change of pace is pretty fun.”

“Yeji and Jisu,” he echoes. “Your best friends. I haven’t met them yet, have I?”

“Not yet. Jisu started a part-time job across town, so we can’t get our schedules to align right just yet.” Your hip collides gently with his. “Should I let you, though?”

“One day… I think it would be nice to hang out with a less migraine-inducing crowd for a change.”

“I’ll tell them, then. They want to meet you.” You crane your neck up slightly, lowering your voice into a hushed whisper that’s completely unnecessary. “They want to know if you’re as cute as you look in your pictures.”

Mark draws back, laughing incredulously. “How do they know what my pictures look like?”

“I stalked your Instagram and showed them,” you answer simply. He throws you a funny look that’s equal parts disbelief and amusement. “They liked that one with the Spider-man costume.”

“Please don’t,” he groans, passing a hand over his face. “I should have taken that down, but I didn’t think anyone would care.”

“Why? I like it.” Your hand’s the one that manages to slip under his sweater this time, fingers trailing down his stomach; you feel him suck it in for a second in surprise before he lets out an exhale.

“I can’t ever understand what’s going through your head,” he chuckles, and you think it’s unfair that he manages to extract your hand from under the fabric while his is still firmly pressed against the side of your stomach. “You saw that and still wanted to date me?”

“Mark Lee, you simply underestimate how much I adore you. It’s kind of hurting my feelings at this rate.”

You’re just a few inches shy of the circle of light cast by the subway station sign. Your feet try to bring you forward, but Mark lingers behind, just outside the curve of soft white on the pavement, and his hand slips from under your shirt. You turn, and his hand skims down your arm instead, fingers locking around your wrist. With the slight distance between you, it looks like you’re caught in motion.

“I still can’t wrap my head around it sometimes.”

“What?”

“I just look over at you and feel like it’s not real. Like you’re going to disappear, and I’m just going to wake up from a dream and see you the next day, just some other stranger who doesn’t even know my name.” He licks his lips, and you want to reach out and kiss him already, but you know he isn’t done talking. “And I’m going to remember how much I liked you in that dream, but you won’t ever feel that same way.”

“You know I’m right here, though, don’t you?” Your fingers mimic his, squeezing around his wrist. “You can feel me. I’m here with you.”

Hesitation flashes across his face even when he nods, and you notice his eyes flit down to his shoes before looking back up at you — a habit of avoidance you know he’s trying to correct. “Sometimes I have to wonder if they’re right.”

“If… who’s right?”

“Them.” He jerks his thumb back in the general direction of the school dorms. “The guys. You know — when they ask me how I got a girl like you… the truth is, I don’t even really know. They can’t believe it, and it’s so crazy to me that I still sometimes can’t myself. So I start wondering if—”

You don’t let him finish this time; it’s rude to interrupt, you know, but you also know that what he’s about to say is probably something neither of you wants to hear anyway. Your lips connect with his, firm and demanding, and his words die in his throat, melting into a soft groan that vibrates against your skin. When you pull away, you don’t create the same distance, and Mark’s hands find their way to your waist, slightly trembling.

“They’re wrong,” you murmur, a quiet strength in your voice. “So stop wondering and just be with me.”

A smile starts tugging on the corners of his mouth, and the next moment, he’s nodding in assent, in wholehearted agreement, and the next kiss you share is one he starts, far more gentle than earlier.

“Next time I catch you entertaining nonsensical thoughts, there’ll be consequences.”

“Are you threatening me?” His laugh is colored with incredulity.

“Yes.” Your tone is firm, but your grin gives away too much of the jest. “Maybe I’ll ground you for a week, or something really childish.”

“I’d take it if you were with me.”

“That’s not how it works,” you snort, gently flicking the tip of his nose. He scrunches it on impact. “You’d be in solitary. You must reflect on your actions and all that nonsense. Meanwhile, I’ll be out having some good hotpot with everyone else.”

“If that happens, promise me one thing, then.” He maneuvers your stance until you’re both back in the blanket of darkness, just out of reach of the subway entrance. “Don’t sit next to Donghyuck.”

“And let him and Chenle give me an earful about how bad-slash-good the first Human Centipede movie was all over again? I think not.”

“No, really.” Mark buries his face into your neck, and you hear the quiet inhale as he breathes in your scent. On instinct, your hand comes up to thread through his hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp. “I don’t want you sitting there and hearing him talk your ear off about how much I don’t deserve you or that he’ll help you find someone better.”

“You know he’s just joking — and I’m just joking, right?”

“Just promise me.”

You pause, wondering if it’s in your best interest to tease him for whatever act he’s pulling, but there’s a shortness to his breathing that makes the whole situation feel weirdly tense. He’s really waiting for something — an answer. The right answer, maybe.

“I promise,” you finally say, and you know you’ve said the correct thing when Mark’s lips press a soft kiss to your collarbone, like he’s sealing in your vow.

On the third time, Mark pretty much gives up.

The strangest thing is that it starts at a time when you’re not even actually together; if you had to pinpoint the exact moment, it probably had to be when Donghyuck had walked you to the dorm from library. No — maybe even before that. Somewhere in the time you’d spent in there, he’d thought up yet another way to push Mark’s buttons. You just didn’t really know the exact minute he’d first seen you with Jung Jaehyun.

You don’t know how Jaehyun does it; he skips half his classes and somehow doesn’t even get in trouble, let alone fail. You’d only met him last semester, but he was just about the only person who was halfway familiar in your Anthropology 120 class, so you thought you could at least feel comfortable enough to chat with him about the weather or what had happened in the last meeting. You don’t expect him to strong-arm you into being something of a literal proxy for him; the first week of the semester, you’d spend almost each lecture period gnawing on your nails and fretting over the fact that your signature for attendance looked nothing like his. By the second week, you’d already come to realize that it doesn’t matter because he had only attended one lecture — the first one — thus far and your professor was as clueless about Jaehyun’s handwriting as you. By the fourth week, you had resigned yourself to being his slightly unwilling associate for his random escapades, allowing him to copy off your notes and turning in his homework for him.

Now that you think about it, that’s probably how he does it.

You sacrifice your free time for him today, caged up in a library for pretty much the afternoon. You can’t help but resent him, not just because the whole room is stuffy and the librarian keeps passing by, clucking to remind people not to litter between shelves, but also because you’d much rather do things that are important to you — like pretending to flirt with Mark for the first time when you place your order and watching him act like it’s the first time you’re saying something so sweet to him, except he’s definitely not pretending. Instead of watching Mark’s face color that cute shade of pink and that sweet little smile pull at his mouth until he’s basically biting his lips back to stop himself from grinning, you have to bore yourself with the sight of Jaehyun trying to decipher your handwriting.

“You should really be more legible with your strokes.” He has the audacity to chastise you as if he’s the one doing you a favor by giving you constructive criticism.

“You should really come to class more often,” you bite back, although there’s no real heat to your words. You just look out the window and watch the sun sink down behind the university hospital building, wondering if there’s a chance you’ll still be able to catch Mark before his shift ends.

“Would if I could.”

“You actually fucking can,” you say tiredly, and even the way he turns the page is so impossibly slow. “Can’t you just take a picture?”

“Nah; writing it down carefully really helps my retention of this kind of stuff.”

“So take a picture and then write it down carefully.”

“With your ridiculous handwriting? I’d probably fail.”

“So come to class and write it yourself!”

Your hiss increases in pitch, and it calls the attention of the librarian over to you. She swoops in, clicking her tongue, but she’s not even looking at you. Her eyes are zoned in on Jaehyun, who meets her gaze with so much innocence it’s hard to imagine you’d wanted to smack him two minutes ago.

“Jung Jaehyun,” the librarian snaps in an undertone. The slow, punctuated way she says his name suggests she knows him fairly well — and not in a great way. “I see you’re back in here after your probationary period.”

“Sorry for the trouble, Mrs. Park.” He grins up at her, looking anything but apologetic. “I promise I won’t get in your way again today.”

“And this one—” She points to you, and you point to yourself in shock at being pointed to, and Jaehyun’s pointing at you and mouthing ‘this one’ with excessive mirth in his eyes. “Isn’t another one of those girls you plan on defiling my sacred space with?”

Jaehyun says ‘we didn’t defile anything’ at the same time you say I’m going to throw up, and the librarian just adds to the noise by shushing you on top of that jumble of words.

“I’ll be keeping a close eye on you two,” Mrs. Park warns before stalking away, tutting at a library assistant for wrongly shelving a volume of Encyclopedia Brittanica.

“Please, Jaehyun,” you groan, crossing your arms over the table and flattening your forehead against them. “Just hurry up. Release me.”

He ignores you, still leaning closer to your notebook to decipher your handwriting. “I would like to set the record straight and make it known I didn’t fuck anyone in the library.”

“What’d you get probation for, then?”

“Just making out.” You notice he has the energy to grin wickedly even without meeting your eye, even while he’s still scrawling on his own notebook, and you groan something incoherent and irate once again. “What are you in such a big hurry for, anyway?”

“Has it ever occurred to you,” you grumble, raising your head. “That some people might want to do better things than sit here and watch you write stuff for ages?”

“No,” comes his simple reply. You bop your head onto your arms a few times in the hope that the impact will shake you out of this nightmare and you’d find yourself waking up in Mark’s arms instead, but you have no such luck. “By better things, do you mean fucking Mark Lee in someone else’s bedroom? That’s real defilement, by the way.”

“How’d you hear about that?” You squeeze your eyes shut and growl under your breath. “Fucking Youngho.”

“You doing that too?”

“Shut — please, would you hurry?”

He pointedly purses his lips in an effort to keep himself from letting out what you can only assume is, by the glint in his eyes, a witch’s cackle. “Almost done, man. Relax a bit. So did you guys get together — like, together together?”

You initially contemplate not telling him, but Jaehyun’s nosiness is probably going to reveal the truth to him sooner or later anyway. “Yeah. What’s it to you, though?”

“Nothing. You’re lucky.”

For the first time today, you feel like Jaehyun has finally said something right. “Yeah — yeah, I am.”

“I bet his friends don’t seem to think so.”

“Is this something you know because it’s a guy thing or because you’re so nosy that you just can’t help but listen in on every other juicy conversation around you?”

“A bit of both,” he chuckles. “Mostly just because I know Lee Donghyuck was giving him a hard time about it last semester.”

“I noticed that too — a bit, anyway. But it’s just banter, I think.”

“Probably. Imagine being his friend and getting a girlfriend; it’s like… the perfect ammunition for teasing. But I’m pretty sure half of the things that come out of his mouth are jokes meant to annoy.”

“What about yours?”

“I get it,” he sighs, shutting your notebook resolutely. It makes a thud that alerts the librarian two tables away, and she glares at you like you’re climbing onto Jaehyun’s lap in the middle of the References on the Korean War aisle. “I’ll set you free. Thanks, by the way, for letting me copy from you. Same time next week?”

“Or how about you look up the schedules for our classes and actually come instead of piggybacking off of my efforts and making snarky remarks about my handwriting while you’re taking advantage of my goodwill?”

“Sounds like too much effort on my end,” he yawns, waving you off as you stuff your notebook into your bag. “Later, ___________. Say hi to Mark for me. The normal way — not the girlfriend way, please.”

You stick your tongue out at him before you make a mad dash for the door, ignoring Mrs. Park as she shushes your footsteps on the marble. You’re so intent on fishing your phone out of your bag that you almost ram the door into the person standing behind it.

“Oh, fuck— Jesus, I’m sorry, I wa— wait, Donghyuck?”

“Great to see you too, ___________.” He rubs his jaw where the edge of the door grazed it. “You in a rush?”

“I was just about to go see if Mark was still at Starbucks.”

“His shift’s probably almost over. I’m headed back to the dorm if you wanna tag along.” When you nod, he starts leading the way, breaking the silence again soon after. “Were you in a study group, or something?”

“No,” you jerk your thumb backwards towards the minuscule form of Jaehyun, who’s now busy wasting time and space playing something on his phone where you’d left him. Donghyuck’s eyebrows shoot up. “He’s my classmate who never comes to class. I was just lending him my notes.”

“Oh, Jaehyun, yeah.” Donghyuck snaps his fingers. “We were classmates last semester. He never went to class either, but I don’t know who he mooched off of to pass. You guys close?”

“Not really. I just fell into the trap of being too nice to him.”

“It’s funny,” he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Jaehyun seems more your speed. On paper, at least.”

You can’t help but look taken aback, and Donghyuck laughs at your expression. “What do you mean, my speed?”

“Not sure.” He pauses, trying to find the right words to explain himself. “Someone who’d fit more into your social circles. Someone who probably likes Formula One and considers men’s health magazines to be classic literature.”

“That’s your impression of my social circle?”

“You know what I mean. People like Jung Jaehyun or Seo Youngho. I literally thought you were dating him last semester, so it was totally crazy to hear you asked Mark out.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Like… you asked him out. Not even the other way around. That’s ridiculous.”

“Why?” You know he doesn’t mean anything bad by it; Donghyuck has next to no filter, and something about him being unable to process your relationship is honestly a little funny. “A girl can’t ask a guy out?”

(You try not to think too hard about the fact that up until you’d cornered him in Youngho’s room, you had been praying to whatever god could hear you to convince Mark Lee to do the romanticist thing and ask you out.)

“Nah, dude. Like… a girl like you asked a guy like him out.”

“I didn’t ask him out because he was a guy like that,” you say pointedly. “I asked him out because he was a guy I liked. I wouldn’t have asked anyone else out if it weren’t him.”

Donghyuck falls quiet for a while, and only the crunching of the leaves underfoot accompanies your walk. “You really like him that much, huh?”

“I’m crazy about him.” His nose scrunches up like he’s been hit with a horrible smell, and you laugh. “Can you stop giving him a hard time? Or tone it down? I know you probably don’t like it—”

Donghyuck’s chuckle is light and easy. “I’m not teasing him because I hate it; let’s be clear on that. I actually really like that you guys are together. I’ve never seen him this happy with anything or anyone.”

“Then why are you—”

“Because he’s Mark.” A devilish grin creeps up his features as he holds the door to the dorm lobby open for you. “And teasing him is my favorite thing to do.”

You shake your head; you can’t help your amusement, but you’re not sure you fully understand this kind of friendship. You suppose if Mark is okay with it in its totality, then there isn’t much you can say to change it either.

The next twenty minutes pass in comfortable back-and-forths; Donghyuck is, as you already have learned, an expert conversationalist, and while he doesn’t aggravate you the way he does Chenle, he does manage to navigate a quick-fire kind of exchange of thoughts and information that allows you to see the speed at which he thinks. There’s barely any lag between when he digests what you say and when he responds. You suppose there’s a measure of wit in that, but it’s also a little bemusing to see someone speak without at least running it through the conscience checker every once in a while. You decide you’ve never met anyone quite like Lee Donghyuck before.

He’s in the middle of asking you what the Anthropology professor is like because he’s planning on taking it as an elective if he can when you notice a familiar figure pushing into the lobby, backpack swinging on a folded elbow.

“Mark!” The brief confusion on his face morphs into a surprised joy when he spots you on the couch, even though a bit of it lingers upon recognizing that Donghyuck is seated next to you. He walks over in long strides, and your posture straightens to meet his palm as it comes down gently against the crown of your head again; it bumps lightly, causing the both of you to laugh.

“Hey, you.” His voice is warm and fond in its greeting, and you beam up at him. “Did you have a busy afternoon?”

“Unfortunately. Did you just get back from your shift?”

“I passed by the co-op to check out the new university letter jackets. Design’s pretty dope.” He nods towards the elevator. “You wanna head up for a little bit?” You almost get to respond before your companion cuts in instead.

“Hey. Can’t you see we’re having a riveting conversation over here?” Donghyuck sniffs, making a show of hitting Mark’s shin lightly with the heel of his shoe. “Have some respect.”

“Is the conversation so riveting that I can’t take my girl for the evening at all?”

You mouth out a no, but Donghyuck’s flair for dramatics has him humphing and shoving Mark’s hand away from your hair. “Yeah, man. At least let us finish up.”

“What’s this even about?”

“How Jung Jaehyun asked her out in the library today,” Donghyuck replies easily. You start, shaking your head immediately, but Mark’s jaw slackens a little upon hearing this. Donghyuck continues loudly over your protests, and you can’t keep your voice straight because you’re adamant and yet, somehow, still laughing incredulously in your shock. “Oh, dude, let me tell you. He had his arm around her like this — and he was giving her the bedroom eyes… I wouldn’t have blamed her if she folded, honestly.”

“Mark, no,” your stupid gasp comes out as half a giggle as a result of Donghyuck trying to reenact his imaginary scenario. He’s slung his arm across your shoulders and pulled himself in, doing his best expression of a pleading dog’s gaze, which is both perplexing and hilarious. “He’s just kidding—”

“Then he got all close like this—” Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, and the view he allows himself blocks him from having to look at Mark. You, on the other hand, are still trying to resist a misunderstanding, your palms up and every part of your body that can move shaking vehemently, but you can see Mark’s face turn a violent shade of red you can’t remember having seen from him before. “Spoke all low — you remember he had that sexy, husky voice, right? ”

“He’s just messing with you,” you wheeze out, trying to extract yourself from Donghyuck’s hold, but he only tightens his arm around your neck, almost to the point where you can’t inhale properly.

“And he said ‘you’re the hottest chick I’ve ever seen—’ then you know what he did, Markie?”

Mark doesn’t respond; you’re not even sure if he can, considering his Adam’s apple is bobbing dangerously like he’s one misstep away from exploding. You laugh again, stupidly, because you don’t know what else to do; you know Donghyuck’s teasing him, and you know Mark usually takes it in stride, but you’ve also never seen the latter look so focused on anything that didn’t involve a math problem or eating you out. “No, really, nothing hap—”

You don’t even have the space to finish your sentence. Donghyuck’s too quick when he grabs your face and plants a comedically sloppy kiss on your cheek, bursting out in laughter when he pulls away. You can only sit there, probably as stunned as Mark looks, raising your hand slowly to wipe the spittle Donghyuck left behind in his wake.

“Oh, Jesus,” Donghyuck rasps out between snorts. “Your face is priceless, man.”

“Not funny,” Mark grumbles, and there’s a hoarseness to his voice that makes you feel like it’s barely controlled.

“Also not true. I just bumped into her on the way from the library. We were talking about one of her classes or whatever.” Donghyuck dramatically wipes the tears from his eyes, and you sigh, nudging him. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t resist. Man, don’t even worry. She’s downright crazy about you. Even if Jung Jaehyun had asked her out—”

“Anyway.” Mark reaches down, lacing your fingers together, pulling you up and closer to his side like he’s worried you’ll catch Donghyuck’s crazy. “If that’s all of it…”

“Yeah, yeah. You two lovebirds go moon over each other already. I just love seeing your face like that.”

Mark snorts, yanking on Donghyuck’s earlobe punitively, and the latter cries out sharply (and a little exaggeratedly) at the pain. Mark doesn’t even seem to care; he leads you to the elevator and punches in his floor. You barely have time to call out a belated ‘bye’ to Donghyuck, who acknowledges it with a raise of his palm, before the doors slide shut.

It’s a slow elevator, given that it’s an old building, and the first couple of floors pass without much noise between the two of you. You’re not unaware of how tight Mark’s grip is on your hand, but you don’t comment nor take it against him. By the fourth floor, you’re raising his hand up to your lips and pressing a kiss against his knuckles.

“Nothing happened.” You confirm his unasked question, and you see a modicum of tension leave his shoulders. “He was just messing with you because he thinks it’s funny.”

“Yeah, I know.” Even if he says it like that, there’s still lingering doubt in his voice. “Were you with Jung Jaehyun today, though? Is that why you didn’t show up?”

You nod. “He was copying my notes for Anthropology. Guy barely shows up to lectures, so he borrows my stuff. I can’t believe he hasn’t been suspended yet. Or punched in the face by the people he leeches off of.”

“No kidding.”

You step out on the sixth floor with him. Even if you already know where Mark’s dorm is, you let him lead the way, and he ushers you into an empty and dimly lit living space while taking his shoes off. His roommate barely seems to be around; you’ve seen him all of two times, and it doesn’t look like he’s here either right now. You pause anyway, listening to any signs of life just to be sure, but when you both confirm that there’s no one but the two of you, you busy yourselves with turning on the lights and plugging in the water dispenser.

You work in relative silence; it isn’t anything unusual since you’ve done this a million times, and you’ve come to learn that small talk isn’t necessary when you’re just washing your hands or opening the refrigerator aimlessly even if you know you both plan on ordering in. But there’s a weird aura around Mark that you’re not sure how to place; he doesn’t seem like he’s mad, but there definitely seems to be something off — a problem, at least, that you’re not sure you know how to ask about.

So you just try to diffuse whatever it is by completely ignoring it.

“Pizza or Chinese?” You ask, flopping onto the couch as he plugs the television into the outlet. He looks up at you, and you notice his eyes are slightly dazed, like you’ve just woken him up from a dream. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice is hoarse the first time he says it, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, sorry.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“We just had pizza, so I’m thinking Chinese is the better option. Cream shrimp? Fried rice? Not the salted fish one, though, maybe.”

You hum in assent, but when he straightens up from behind the television, you extend your arm to him, attempting to clarify yourself. “I mean, what are you thinking so hard about?”

“Nothing.” His answer’s a little too quick. A moment of awkward silence passes where you telepathically tell him you know he’s lying and he has to come to terms with his horrible lying skills, and he sighs, crossing over to the couch and settling beside you. Immediately, he tangles your fingers together, belatedly returning the favor from the elevator and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “He didn’t ask you out, right?”

You know he knows the truth, so you decide to bat your own question back at him in an attempt at rhetoric. “What would it matter if he did? The answer would have been the same, real or imagined.”

Mark pinches the bridge of his nose, inhaling slowly. There’s a red flush on his neck that’s only started fading, it seems. You reach out and skim your finger along the vein that runs down the side of his throat. “I know. I don’t like it all the same. I hate… even thinking about it, actually.”

“Really — nothing happened. If you don’t count the fact that I almost strangled him for keeping me there — which I’m sure you’d agree doesn’t count as anything in favor of him.”

“I heard Jung Jaehyun’s kind of a playboy.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Nothing. I don’t know.” His head lolls to the side, and his eyes hold a sadness that pulls at your heart. “It means he really could have made a pass at you. Or you could have — I don’t know. In the end… I just worry.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Your lower lip juts out, and his eyes widen slightly, his head shaking before his mouth can even work out a proper response.

“No — I mean, yes, absolutely. It’s — I mean, it’s just—” He inhales again to gather his wits, two fingers still rubbing his forehead. “I trust you, without a doubt. I don’t trust other people — not around you. Not Jaehyun, or Youngho, or—”

“Or Donghyuck?” You smile a little apologetically at his embarrassment, clear on his face when his eyes stray from yours. “Mark, you know he’s only messing with you, right? I thought it was a funny thing for you guys.”

“It’s not funny if it’s about you,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you. He looks up at you again, chewing on his bottom lip. “I know. I’m trying to control it. Sometimes… I don’t know why it gets under my skin. I guess it’s because it could happen — you… finding someone else. I kind of hate the thought of that.”

“And if I said I hate it even more than you?”

His gaze softens, something like relief passing over his features, but the rest of his body still holds a significant amount of tension; you know by the way he’s running agitated circles on the back of your hand. You gently tug on his arm, allowing yourself to use it as an anchor to shift your weight. Mark makes a soft noise of inquiry but says nothing more, waiting until you’ve maneuvered your body to settle on his lap.

The view is reminiscent, and you can see that the core memory you share flashes through his mind too. A small smile, still somewhat reluctant, plays on Mark’s lips, and you hate that it’s all you get right now, so you rectify this by leaning down and leaving a small, chaste kiss on them. You pull away much too soon, and his head follows in response to the distance, chasing your lips until you’re realistically too far to reach. His arm extends instead, swiftly tucking your hair behind your ear.

Your fingers close around his wrist, and your head turns, continuing the kiss against his palm — short and firm.

“Stop doing that.”

His eyebrows fly upward in questioning, his other hand freezing in its trail up your thighs. Even his breath seems to catch, and what’s left of it comes out as a raspy whisper. “Stop being jealous? I’m… I’m trying.”

You shake your head. “Stop being sexy when you’re jealous.”

The ‘what’ he seems to want to ask dies in his throat, his mouth only able to form half of the word before you interrupt, your lips taking in the rest of the syllable. When you kiss him this time, there’s a slow hunger to it; your teeth find his lower lip even before he’s able to get into the rhythm of kissing you back. You just want him to know — everything about him drives you wild, even when he doesn’t know it.

You’ll never grow sick of the taste of him, you��re sure; today, he tastes even more enticing, the hint of something rich mixing in with the stronger flavor of coffee on his tongue. It’s familiar and comforting, and it’s only when you break away, both your faces flushed from a prolonged lack of air, that you puzzle out what the taste is — the lingering aftermath of a vanilla sweet cream cold brew, one he must have prepared in anticipation of you this afternoon.

You briefly squeeze your eyes shut and thank whoever’s listening for the gift of Mark Lee.

“Mark,” your murmur, your voice much softer, intent on coaxing him into releasing his worries. “You know, right?”

His ‘hm’ is only half-there in focus, the rest of his attention on his hands, which have found their way to your ass and have started digging his fingers into the flesh beyond your jeans. You have to tilt his head up with one finger under his chin, and there’s a whirlpool of emotion in them: curiosity, desire, and, interestingly, a quiet, almost suppressed kind of anger.

“If it isn’t you,” you whisper. “Then there’s nobody else.”

You see his jaw tighten, feel his grip against you do the same, and his brow furrows, like he’s trying — much too hard, and for no good reason — to stop himself from tipping over. You don’t like that either; if he’s there, you think, you should take him over the edge.

“But if you want them to know so badly, then…” You tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, bringing the expanse just a little closer to his mouth. “Why don’t you go ahead and put your claim on me?”

You swear you see his pupils dilate right before he presses his mouth to your skin. With a low, almost pained groan against your neck, he latches his teeth in lightly, and you feel the soft sting, the increase in pressure the moment he starts sucking a mark just above your collarbone. There’s a wet, messy pattern to his movements, always punctuated by the sweep of his tongue to soothe your flesh. Even with that, his movements are slow and careful, still gentle in the way he’s handling you, but you feel it anyway — all of his tension’s concentrated in his grip, the way he keeps you close, hips pinned against him as if he’s worried anything less will cause you to disappear.

“Every time you worry, remember you can do this.” You pause, your breath catching in a lilt as his teeth dig in a little more fiercely. “You’re the only one that can.”

His lips detach with a soft groan, fingers squeezing your ass tight for a moment. Warm breath cools against the damp patch on your neck, and a second later, you feel his mouth graze against the few inches of skin, sensitive and slightly raw. “I know. It’s just not fair.”

You hum in questioning, but he doesn’t answer immediately; his mouth busies itself just under the mark he’d surely left, already starting up the same routine. You’d let him, and you want him to, but you want to hear his voice more. Your fingers tangle into his hair, and you use that hold to ease his head back, urging him to look up at you. It’s almost a mistake, seeing him like that — lips slightly swollen and definitely slick with his own saliva, parted just a little to reveal teeth he’d been desperate to nip your flesh with again. It crosses your mind that Mark has a mouth made for kissing — no, that isn’t accurate.

A mouth made for you to kiss.

“What’s not fair?” You ask softly. Even now, he takes his time in answering, his eyes falling close for a second; you watch him swallow, lick his lips, breathe in before he speaks, and all of those mundane things he does somehow make you lose your mind all the more.

“How badly I keep wanting you,” he breathes out, his eyes slowly opening. “And how it makes me think everyone wants you just as much.”

His hands leave the curve of your ass, traveling up your shirt, resting against your sides. He holds you like he’s careful in trying not to break you, his fingers spread wide to make sure his thumbs almost meet against your stomach, but there’s a smoldering headiness in his gaze that tells you he’s thinking a little too hard about wanting to break you.

“I touch you like this, and I think that everyone would kill to do the same.” His fingers squeeze against your flesh, inching upwards until they rest just under your breasts; his thumbs stroke the curved underline of your bra. “I think about kissing you and it feels like everyone’s thinking it at the exact same time. I look at someone next to you, even if you don’t know them, and I wonder if they want to pull you close, if they want to feel you against them just as much as I do. When I—”

He inhales sharply between his words, and the exhale comes out somewhat shaky. For a moment, he grits his teeth, jaw flexing in an attempt to keep himself in check. You worry he doesn’t want to continue — doesn’t want to let you hear it, but it feels so important that you can’t let it go. “Tell me.”

“When I think about fucking you,” he breathes out, voice barely audible. “Whenever I look at you and think about how much I want to feel you around me, feel you cum around me… I just know everyone else wants the same thing, and it’s driving me crazy because… because they can’t.”

It’s there again, flashing in his eyes — a determination that reads almost like fury.

“They can’t,” he repeats, his voice firmer. “I won’t ever let them. Never.”

You don’t stop him this time when his mouth reclaims your skin. You let his thoughts fuel the need in his movements, allow yourself to move only in reaction to what he does — the tilting of your head to give him more room, the tightening of your fists against his shirt to keep yourself steady. A surprised mewl leaves you when you feel his teeth pinch against your flesh again, and it’s harder, sharper this time, his quiet anger finally dictating his strength. You grapple for words, but they come out in weak gasps.

“It doesn’t — doesn’t matter,” you manage to whimper out. “How many people think that way, how much they want me that way. I only ever want you.”

His breathing is caught, warm, in the pocket of space just between you and his mouth; it tingles against your skin, tickles your senses into heightening. Your fingers unfurl, pressing against his chest, and you can feel his quickened heartbeat thrumming under your palm.

“God, please,” he murmurs, the soft peck of a kiss landing against your collarbone. “Please, tell me.”

“Mark, I’m yours.” There’s no teasing in how you say it; it was never meant to rile him up. It even escapes sweetness, the romanticism it usually comes with when you remind him on any other occasion. This is a promise to him, something you’re reinforcing as fact, something that can’t ever change. “I’m always going to be yours — no one else’s. I’ll never let anyone have anything that’s yours. Ask anything, take everything you want. I’ll never say no to you. Only you — always you.”

You know something’s different in a number of ways; his arms circle around you, but instead of keeping you firm and stable in his lap, they’re tight, squeezing a whine out of you, holding your torso flush against his. His face never leaves the crook of your neck, but you hear — feel — something there — a soft growl of need, of frustration that begs release. Suddenly, you find yourself off the couch; you barely have the presence of mind to wrap your arms around his neck and tighten your thighs against his sides before he’s carrying you to his room, kicking the door open and letting the rebound of the impact against his wall slam it shut behind him.

You’ve been in Mark’s room before, so there’s absolutely no need for you to take in the scenery when he sets you down on his bed. It doesn’t matter anyway, even if this were your first time; Mark’s crawling over you, his face flush and eyes sharp with hunger, and he looks so enticing that you wouldn’t want to pay attention to anything else around you anyway. His limbs cage you in, arms on either side of your shoulders and his knees just by your thighs, and you don’t really know why he’s already panting, but it just makes you want him all the more.

“Never,” he groans out, leaning down to nose against the patch of skin his mouth had worked on. “I’m never going to let anyone take you, ever. You’re all mine.”

His name fades on your lips, carried away by a moan when his mouth reattaches itself to your neck; it moves, almost frenzied, to renew the mark he’d left, make it a deeper red, a slightly bruised purple. You’re usually careful not to do anything that will require any attention or cover-up after, but Mark seems a little too far gone to care, and you realize you like him best this way.

Even with all the attention he gives your neck, his fingers are busy; they work on the button of your jeans, sliding them down with the help you offer by raising your hips. They only reach halfway down your thighs, his reluctance to come back up for air stopping him from peeling them off completely, but it’s all he seems to need for now.

Eager fingers ease between your thighs, two at once, pressing against your folds. You’re unable to spread your legs like you usually do, but this tightness makes you all the more sensitive, and you keen as his digits fit themselves into your slit. Frustratingly, they don’t move right away, and you have to raise your hips again just to get some sort of friction. Even then, Mark doesn’t take the hint — or, perhaps, the bait — keeping a light pressure against your clit without doing anything else. His focus is still on your neck, now slightly aching under his lips, and when he finally pulls away, you see a look of triumph on his face. He tilts his head back slightly to admire his work — the blooming dark patch you’re sure he’s left where your skin tingles the most.

“If I said I wanted to mark you all over, would you let me?”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t ask for it?”

He chuckles, tightening the pressure of his fingers against your clit; you say something that sounds halfway between ‘Mark’ and a sob.

“I want to, so badly.” He admits, gaze still fixed on your neck. “I’d want to see you walk out of here, walk into class covered in them. I’d want people to ask you how you got them, and who gave them to you. And I’d want you to say it proudly — that it was me who did it. That I fucked you all night and made you mine over and over again.”

“Why don’t you?” His eyes snap up to you, a small smile forming on his lips. “I want to say that too. Let me brag about having you. Let me tell everyone how good you always make me feel. Then you can tell everyone who doesn’t believe you, too — how I let you take me every single time. Show me off and tell them to look at how you made me yours.”

Another laugh escapes him, but there’s more disbelief than humor in it; he seems to find it amazing, that you can just agree with what he says, no matter how strange he thinks it is.

“Show you off? If I mark you in other places, do I have to show them every part?”

“Do you not want to?”

“I want to, and I don’t.” He pauses, slightly amused, and you know he’s remembering the first time you fucked. “I don’t them to see your body, but I want them to see what I did to it. I don’t want them to look at what’s mine, but I just want them to know it is.”

“Then you can fuck me in front of everyone and make them watch you ruin me completely.”

He shakes his head, even if desire flashes clear across his features. He busies himself with actions while he mulls it over, tugging your jeans down alongside your panties and casting them aside before he straightens up. His eyes rake over your form; you’re bare from the waist down, your shirt halfway ridden up, the underside of your bra peeking out from under the hem. Again, his eyes land on your neck, and his smile widens slightly.

“Can’t.” He decides finally. “You’re too pretty for that.”

You hum thoughtfully, and he raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t move, even when you sit up, shifting yourself so you can tuck your calves under your thighs — not even when you reach out to undo his belt or tug down his zipper. He only reacts a little when your hand presses against his hardness through his boxers, the girth now easily familiar to your palm.

“What about something like this?” You ask, inching closer to the edge of the bed. You’ve started slow strokes against him, the fabric creating extra friction, more heat under your palm, and you watch his jaw clench as he swallows back a soft grunt. “Would you let them watch me do this for you?”

“Let me think about it,” he chuckles softly, and you nod, letting your fingers work to make your point. You don’t have to undress him completely to get what you want; all you need is to tug down the front of his boxers to free him, and you already have him wrapped in your palms, stroking his shaft to full hardness.

“Think faster,” you urge, and he shakes his head, slightly bemused. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t even want them to watch me jerk you off?”

“At least give me a full minute.”

You laugh lightly, whispering a ‘fine’ before you press a soft kiss against tip. He inhales sharp through his teeth, already sensitive, and you waste no time in letting your tongue flick out against the smooth head. He doesn’t need the lubrication, realistically; his precum’s already leaking from the tip, mixing in with your saliva as you run your tongue around it. All you do is make him a little messier, a little slicker, your spittle running down his length.

Taking Mark in your mouth is a demanding task, but one you’re always up for; there’s something uniquely satisfying about letting him fill your mouth, inch by inch, and watching his breathing hitch and stutter until your lips are closer to the base than to the head. What you can’t reach, your hand always squeezes around, eager to make sure he feels good completely. His expression is sublime when you draw your head back the first time, sucking as you do so — his eyes are half-lidded, and he doesn’t stop the moan that falls from his lips. His gaze is fixed on you, hazy but still able to drink the sight of you in, and you’re not sure how, but you almost feel like you could get off to watching him watch you taste him.

You try, somehow, vaguely conscious of the movement of your hips; you’re grinding at nothing at first, so your knees give way just enough for you to press yourself against his sheets. It’s slightly uncomfortable, a strain in your thighs that you’re not really used to, but you don’t care; Mark’s sharp inhale at seeing you attempt to grind your pussy against his mattress is pretty much as arousing as anything else. His cock twitches hard in your mouth, and you suck just a little harder, a little messier, your head bobbing down to meet your hand, still firmly wrapped around his girth.

The room’s filled with nothing but slick sounds and soft groans; Mark’s hand has found its way into your hair, tangled into a makeshift ponytail, and while he isn’t guiding your mouth to do anything, you can feel his hips stutter then start to move, pulling back when your head does. He tries to hide it, tries to keep himself steady, but pride blooms in your chest when you note that he can’t; he wants to feel like he’s fucking into your mouth, into your hand, the way he does when he takes your pussy.

It’s relatively quiet for that time, nothing but muffled moans from you that mix in with his noises, but you only realize you’d been waiting for an answer to something when he speaks up again.

“It’s… still a no for me.”

Your movements slow, your gaze lifting to communicate your mild confusion to him. You don’t want to ask; you just don’t want to lose the taste of him on your tongue just yet. He looks down at you, smiling with overflowing tenderness, almost like he’s apologetic.

“Even just this — you’re too pretty when you do it.” His hand reaches down, thumb stroking over your cheek. “I can’t let anyone see what you look like when you’re like this. They’ll keep thinking about you doing it for them. And you’d only do it for me — right?”

You nod immediately, your response causing your mouth to slip down his shaft just a little more. It elicits a guttural noise from him, one that fuels you into sucking him just a little harder, your enthusiasm overtaking your restraint. His fingers have let go of your hair, stroking it back into smoothness, almost comforting in their movements.

“God, I wish you could see yourself; you’d know what I mean,” he continues to murmur, his voice just a little louder over the eager, wet noises you’re making. “How pretty you look with your mouth wrapped around me. How perfect you are when you’re kneeling like this for me — how happy you look when you’re sucking me off. I can’t share that with anyone. Fuck — not ever.”

Your mouth draws back, completely this time, and your tongue presses against the underside of his cock. You lick a long stripe up his shaft, moaning softly at the light throb you feel, and you watch him tip his head back. The groan that follows soon after is almost close to a frustrated growl, ending in a whispered ‘shit’ before his eyes land back on you. He watches you press kiss after kiss against his tip, coaxing the precum out even more, and you take special care to leave more down each inch of his cock until you’re finally able to release your hold on his base so you can leave the last one there.

His hand combs your hair back before it falls to cup your chin, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to gently clean up the froth of spittle there. You smile up at him in thanks, and his thumb sweeps over the seam of your lips to follow the slight curve.

“So pretty,” he repeats, and your cheeks glow pink under the palms that caress them. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Pretty as hell, fucking perfect — and you’re all mine.”

You kneel up again, chasing his lips with your own, and he locks you in his arms as his tongue slips its way past your teeth, the aroma of coffee still on it. He leaves today’s taste of him against your tongue, on the ridges of your teeth, until you feel like you’ve all but consumed him, and you whimper softly when he pulls away, urging you to turn around and lean back into his chest.

His mouth reattaches itself to the same spot; it’s like a home base for him, and he breathes in your scent from there before giving the same patch of skin a light suck, almost as if he’s worried it’ll fade in a few minutes’ time if he doesn’t give it attention.

“Show me.” Hands slide down to your hips, squeezing them lightly, like a prompt for your response. “Show me how pretty you are for me.”

His palms never leave you, not even when you detach yourself from his chest and bend down; your elbows meet the mattress, but your hips stay raised, giving him a view of your pussy. Your gasp easily turns into a moan when his digit dips into your wetness again, his other hand pushing gently at your asscheek to keep you open.

You think he’s about to slip his finger in, the tip brushing against your entrance, and you tense in anticipation, but it doesn’t happen; he continues to run his finger down your slit, careful not to linger against your clit for too long. The result is that you tighten around nothing, and you hear him suck in a breath as he watches your hole grow smaller for a second. You laugh breathily, resting your chin against the backs of your hands, one folded atop the other. “Pretty enough for you to fuck?”

“Do you have to ask if you already know?”

“I want to hear it anyway.”

His finger slips into your hole, finally, and you keen softly as he breaches the first ring of tightness. He doesn’t really move it, just tests your tightness, feels you contract around him as if to know what his cock will feel in a few moments.

“Your pussy’s too pretty not to fuck,” he manages out, and his throat sounds as tight as you feel. “Seeing it like this… makes me think there’s no way anyone can resist. It’s exactly why I can’t let anyone see you like this.”

You hum as his finger presses in deeper, and you know it’s nothing in comparison to the real thing, but you like feeling that mild stretch, the depth it reaches all the same. “How should we let them know, then? That I’m all yours.”

His finger stills, and you hum softly, swaying your hips to shake him out of whatever trance he’s in. He’s grown quiet, but there’s a thoughtfulness in this pause, like he’s seriously considering your question. You laugh lightly, ready to tell him you’re just egging him on until he fucks you, but he slips his finger out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing again. You can’t help the confused noise that comes out of you, but you at least know he isn’t completely backing away, his other hand still firmly on your ass.

“Mark, what—”

You get your answer in the thud that interrupts your question — he’s tossed his phone onto the bed, having it land next to you. Something in your blood runs hot, and your fingers tremble when you pick it up. You see yourself reflected in the blackened screen — excitement in your eyes, your lips glossy from your blowjob.

Mark’s silent as you let the meaning of his actions settle; wordlessly, he slips his finger into you again, followed by another one this time, and you shudder in pleasure at the difference in the stretch. He doesn’t ask, but you can tell he’s wondering if he’s gone too far— if you think he’s crazy. He lets his fingers stay anchored in you, unmoving, waiting for you to say something, but from where he is, he just can’t know the smile that passes your face.

Finally, he tries to speak up. “We don’t have to— I just meant—”

“What’s your passcode?”

He breathes out, the exhale quivering as much as you probably are. “Your birthday.”

Your smile only widens when you tap the screen to life and see a picture of you — you don’t even remember when he’d taken it, but it’s a shot of you sprawled on his bed, bundled in his blanket and reading something that looks oddly like your textbook for your European Renaissance History class. It’s grainy and dimly lit, a stolen photograph of you, but it makes your heart swell, and you laugh lightly as you key in your birthday; the screen unlocks, allowing you access to all his applications.

“What’s funny?”

“Just thinking about how you should replace this wallpaper.”

“To what?” He sounds bemused.

“The view of me you have now.”

His fingers curl in you, pressing down against your walls, and you push your hips back in a bid for more friction; you hear him hiss out a ‘fuck’ under his breath, and his hand digs harder into the flesh of your ass.

You open Mark’s contacts, scrolling down aimlessly. Most of the names, you don’t recognize, but you see a few familiar ones crop up here and there. He doesn’t ask, only starts pumping his fingers into you in quiet anticipation, wondering how far you’re willing to take it, how much you’ve bought into this crazy idea.

“Mark,” you call out, and he hums in response. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“With my life.”

“So if I called Donghyuck right now—” His fingers hook into you, the delicious pressure on your walls making you squeak instead of finish your sentence immediately. You twist your torso to meet his eyes, and you’re slightly surprised but not at all displeased to see something crazed lingering in his gaze. “How much of a show would you want to put on for him?”

He shifts his weight, his knee sinking into the mattress as he slots it between your legs. This change in position allows him to angle his fingers a little differently, driving down into you with a force that makes you squirm. You almost forget you’ve asked him something again until he leans in closer, his murmur almost drowned out by the slick sounds of his finger pressing into your hole.

“Just… enough for him to know you’ve always been mine.”

Your thumbs are shaking when you scroll through his contacts again, up and down until you find the right name — Lee Donghyuck — and Mark watches you intently, wordlessly, as you press his number, start the call, and put it on speaker.

The wait feels like an eternity, with Mark’s finger slipping in and out of you in a steady, languid pace as you watch the line connect, but in reality, Donghyuck really only answers after the fourth ring. “Yo, Mark.”

His voice is casual, lacking in any sort of expectation; you can hear explosions and gunshots in the background, and you’re willing to bet he’s in the middle of an action movie. You’re proven right when you hear random English babbling soon after.

“Hi, Hyuck.”

“___________?” He sounds genuinely confused that it’s you that greets him. “Where’s Mark? You okay?”

“He’s right here with me; don’t worry.” Your voice is a soft croon, and he has to lower the volume of the television to be able to hear you better. “We’re totally fine. What are you up to?”

“Watching Resident Evil. Uh, is there a reason you called?”

You want to draw out the lie of something casual for as long as you can, but Mark doesn’t let you. His fingers push, suddenly forceful, into you, and you let out a soft cry into the receiver. You look back at him, eyes wide with amusement, and he shrugs, having at least enough sense to look slightly abashed at his experiment.

One moment, you’re listening to a female voice shout something, and the next, Donghyuck’s side of the call is silent except for his breathing. When you don’t bother explaining what had just happened, he takes matters into his own hands.

“Hello?”

He sounds equal parts affronted and amused, like the shock of it has tickled him. You can’t help it; you laugh too, but it’s quickly cut off by another whine when Mark pulls his fingers out. Donghyuck makes an incredulous noise.

“Now, what the fuck is all this about, you freaks?”

“You kept wondering why I ended up asking Mark out,” you evade his question with another one. “Should I tell you why, if you’re that curious?”

“No way. Have fun, weirdos,” he laughs, and the line goes dead a second after.

You snort out a laugh, and Mark mumbles something that sounds vaguely like that was crazy before he leans down and presses a kiss to the small of your back. You make to turn so you can finally face him, but you’re distracted when his phone screen lights up again, and Donghyuck’s name flashes across it.

You exchange amused glances before you pick up the call, and you don’t even get a ‘hello’ out when his voice rings out, sharp and clear.

“But pretending I am,” he says, as though he hadn’t hung up the call a few seconds ago. “Exactly what kind of answer would I get?”

“The kind that’ll hopefully shut you up for good,” Mark pipes in instead of you.

“What’s that even going to sound like?” Already, Donghyuck’s activated whatever toggle in him that gets him to push Mark’s buttons. This time, though, you can’t say it works against you; you feel Mark inch closer to you, and a moment later, the fat tip of his cock nudges against your entrance. “I bet you can’t even get her to yawn, man.”

Mark doesn’t have to respond; you do it for him when he pushes in, torturously slow, as if to draw out your moan. It works a little too well, with you keening into the phone, and yet no part of you is acting for his sake. As familiar as the stretch is, it’s not something you’ve ever been able to commit to memory fully, and it feels like a new breaching of your tightness each time. Your legs fold in slightly, a useless movement that attempts to get you adjusted to his size faster, but Mark interprets it as discomfort, his hands tightening on your hips.

“You okay?” He sounds genuinely worried for a second, forgetting that Donghyuck’s still on the line. Your cheek brushes against his sheets as you nod, trying to meet his eye even in this position to let him know you’re being honest.

“Fucking big, Mark.” You hear Donghyuck tsk from his end, and you laugh breathlessly. “You don’t like knowing he’s big?”

“I just hate that fucker,” Donghyuck quips back easily, but there’s no seriousness in his voice. If anything, it sounds a little raspy, with him clearing his throat soon afterward.

“Well, I’m crazy about him,” you whisper into the call, and your breathing hitches as Mark finally bottoms out, groaning at your tightness. “I’m crazy about the way he touches me, the way he tastes. I’m crazy about how big his cock is, how deep it gets when he’s inside me, how he stretches me out — fuck—”

Your verbal rampage is cut short by a loud moan as Mark draws his hips back and pushes forcefully into you; you haven’t fully adjusted, and you’re even tighter now from what you’re saying, so the friction inside you is nothing short of delicious. He starts a pattern of thrusts, not bothering to build up from his usual slow and steady pace — hearing you talk that way and knowing that Donghyuck is listening is enough to get him to abandon self-imposed restrictions.

“Mark,” you whine out, accidentally pushing the phone a little further away as you reach out blindly for him behind you, and he catches your wrist to let you know he’s there. “Mark, fuck, it feels so good—”

You tighten around him as if to prove your words, and he growls in response. You find yourself having to press your cheek in a little harder into the mattress as he gathers your wrists together into one hand, pinning them to your lower back, and it’s with that hold on you that he leverages his thrusts, pumping into you a little harder each time.

You’re not completely unaware of your surroundings, but it takes a while for you to process the sounds coming from the phone’s speaker — labored breathing, the sound of a zipper being pulled down. You want to wonder if this is working a little too well, but nothing comes from your mouth apart from soft whimpers, and it’s all the cue Mark needs to be the one to fill in the relative silence himself.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, and you feel his lips press between your shoulder blades. It feels like a chaste kiss at first, but he leaves his breath there, still flitting over your skin as he continues to speak. “I’ll never get tired of how pretty you are — how pretty you always sound for me. Doesn’t she sound pretty, Hyuck?”

“Fucking pretty,” Donghyuck agrees, though his voice sounds somewhat distant. You can only sob back a quiet ‘fuck me, harder, harder,’ in response.

“Can you imagine how much prettier she looks under me?” It’s almost a full-blown conversation now, but even if Mark’s addressing Donghyuck, the rest of his attention’s fully on you. He adjusts his stance, still keeping his hold around your wrists as he angles himself deeper into you, causing you to cry out and squirm in pleasure. With your face pressed against the bed and his weight driving down into you, you feel utterly trapped, in the best kind of way. Mark, in the way he is now, is inescapable, almost incorrigible, and he pistons deeper into your pussy, his free hand brushing your hair away from your shoulder so he can leave a kiss against it. “Bent over, legs spread just a little, all for me to take. Pretty little hole wet for me, and so fucking tight. Can you imagine that?”

“I’m doing it right now.”

“It’s a thousand times better in person. Trust me.”

The same hand slips between your thighs, two fingers spreading your folds apart; the middle one circles your clit in a pace that matches his thrusts, sudden and shocking, and you arch your back upwards slightly with a choked noise. He finally releases your wrists, and you claw at the sheets helplessly to keep yourself somehow upright as the force of Mark’s hips, their impact against the backs of your thighs, pushes you forward, closer to the phone again. The stimulation is merciless, endless, and in the haze of your pleasure, you wonder if you should make Mark a little more jealous everyday if it gets him to act this way.

“Mark, I…. I’ve been— s-since—”

“Not yet,” he whispers, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as if to bring you back to reality. You shudder at the pain, the pleasure that accompanies it, and when you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, you notice that a few tears escape your eyes. “Hold out for me a bit, okay? Please. It’s not enough. Not yet enough.”

You wonder if ‘enough’ is a concept the both of you even understand when it comes to wanting each other; already, you feel desire pooling in your stomach, threatening to spill from you, and clenching around him isn’t helping you stop it the way your body seems to think it’s supposed to. It also doesn’t help that Mark’s fingers are relentless, one still drawing tight, heavy circles around your clit, and the other creeping up under your shirt to tug down the cup of your bra, letting a breast spill into his warm palm. He kneads with an unusual — but not unpleasant — roughness, and you squeak out incoherently as he tweaks at the hardened bud of your nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Hold on for me a little,” he continues murmuring, even after you shake your head and whisper ‘can’t’ to him over and over. “Do it for me. Tell Donghyuck — tell him how good it feels. How much you want to keep feeling me inside you.”

You don’t even know what to say; the pleasure that washes over you, the new kind of roughness that Mark exhibits has you drawing a blank, and you can only whine in a last attempt at protest, only for your tongue to start moving on autopilot, fueled by your want.

“It’s not enough,” you echo — and even if it feels like it is, even if it feels even more than you can possibly handle, something tells you that it’s true. “Not enough — need to feel you more, Mark. God, I want to feel you stretch me out, fuck my little hole into the shape of your cock— until no one else can fuck me but you—”

“What,” Donghyuck breathes out, his exhale coming across as static. “The fuck.”

You don’t have to explain; your babbling’s doing most of the work in that regard anyway, and you can tell by the wet, staccato noises on the other end that Donghyuck can easily piece together the scenario anyway. He’s jacking off to the both of you, something in your mind whispers, and the notion of that alone has you tightening around Mark’s cock. The change doesn’t go unnoticed, and his fingers sink deeper into your flesh; you cry out softly when you feel a jolt of pleasure as he gives your clit a sudden pinch.

“How much tighter can you get?” He sounds incredulous but also, interestingly, proud — there’s a smug tinge to his voice that arouses you even more. “Does it feel that good?”

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe out, the syllables quivering in your throat. “So good I’m going to lose my mind. Let me — God, please, let me—”

“Not yet,” Mark mumbles, and you whimper as he slows and slips out of you, his hand gently rubbing your folds in what feels like comfort — a small apology for his overt enthusiasm that you don’t even really need. “Just a little more. I need to see it.”

“See what?” Donghyuck’s voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse and pretty much muffled by the sound of his hand pumping his own shaft. Your head’s light, so your body moves on its own when Mark inches away slightly, giving you room to turn yourself around and lay on your back. You’ve barely even settled when he lifts your hips, dragging you closer to him and easing your thighs apart to slot himself between your legs.

His cock weighs heavy, pressed up against your folds, and he pushes his hips in a superficial thrust to get them to spread. His eyes fall briefly on your swollen clit, the wetness that you left on his shaft, even more of it still leaking from your hole. When he looks back up at you, there’s something triumphant in his gaze.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he coos, so lovingly it’d be hard to imagine his cock still sliding against your folds if you couldn’t feel it yourself. “I’ll never get enough of your perfect pussy — so perfect that it was made to take me.”

“See what?” Donghyuck presses, an impatience now coloring his voice. Mark chuckles, nodding at you and mouthing silently. Tell him.

Your inhale’s shaky, quivering like the rest of your body, and you don’t ever break away from Mark’s gaze, even as you speak.

“His cock fucking me in my stomach.”

Donghyuck’s ‘Jesus fucking Christ’ is drowned out by your cry of need as Mark pushes back into you. There’s no lag time now, no wait for any kind of adjustment; he takes you in one motion, until you feel his hips hit the backs of your thighs again. Your walls flutter around him, unable to process his size fully, and all that comes out of you is a string of messy mewls that’s constantly interrupted by the wet sounds of his thrusts.

Your body feels almost weightless, the only thing you can understand being the feeling of his cock pumping into you, stretching you out further. You’re only able to shake yourself out of the reverie when you feel his hands push back against your thighs, folding you in half, before they crowd atop your stomach.

“God, I need to feel it,” he groans out, his palms skimming under your navel, searching. “Please — do it for me.”

Even with your brain muddled, you don’t even have to try to figure it out; you let him feel it every time he asks. You inhale, deep and slow, until your stomach sinks, and the walls of your stomach flatten against his cock, which pauses briefly in its movements as he revels in the newfound feeling.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, and you flush in pleasure, in satisfaction at his praise. “Love seeing my cock inside you.”

He adjusts himself before he starts pumping into you again, burying his shaft all the way to the hilt each time; each thrust is followed by a soft sob from you, and you reach out, planting your hands on top of his. You obviously can’t feel his cock under your palms, but you don’t have to anyway; the fit’s tight enough that it feels, ridiculously, like he’s fucking your whole body, like he’s pressing into the deepest part of your core. You just want him to feel it more — the movement of the bulge under his hands, the resistance it has to push through to get to your stomach.

“Love feeling me inside you,” he continues, and his breathing stutters then, signaling that he’s also barely hanging on. “Love seeing how pretty you look when I rearrange your insides.”

You mouth out a disbelieving ‘what the fuck’ that earns you a simple smile, but Mark’s unrelenting in his movements anyway, his palms completely covering your stomach.

“Dude, I wanna see it too,” Donghyuck reminds you both of his presence when his voice comes through the speaker. “Put her on video.”

“No way,” comes Mark’s swift, firm reply. Donghyuck makes a noise of protest. “This is just for me.”

“Selfish as hell, calling me without really sharing.”

“The point wasn’t really ever to share.”

Mark’s hands suddenly press down on your stomach, and you stifle a soft scream; the pressure increases tenfold, as does the tightness of the fit, his cock brushing against your walls in a way that makes you feel breathless — it makes you feel used. Your hands fly up, fingers locking behind his neck, and you squirm under him, knowing fully well that you can’t escape anyway — not that you really want to, anyway.

“Mark,” you warn him again, your voice thin and airy. “I can’t anymore — I really—”

“I got you,” he murmurs — something you’ve come to learn he always says, always wants to let you know. He’ll be here until you break, until you can’t take anymore. “One second, okay?”

“Bro, what? Are you serious—” Even Donghyuck sounds confused, although his voice is tight too; he must be close, your mind weakly registers, but it doesn’t matter. Mark, albeit reluctantly, slips one hand away from your stomach — for a good cause, he must think, and you learn what it is when he ends the call, effectively cutting off Donghyuck’s complaints. Your eyes widen in confusion, but all Mark’s gaze is to you is reassuring, gentle, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips before he answers your unspoken question.

“Can’t let him hear you cum,” he murmurs against your mouth. “That’s only for me, isn’t it?”

You nod, letting the movement of it brush your lips against his. “You’re the only one I’ll cum for — the only one that can make me.”

Above your head, his phone is trilling noisily; the vibrations course through your back, weak but persistent, and for some reason, it heightens your arousal all the more. Mark ignores it completely, single-mindedly focused on pistoning into you with the bulk of his strength. His hands push down just under your navel, increasing your awareness of the feeling of his cock, him fucking you, coaxing out your climax.

“Do it. Show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.”

You don’t think it’s possible for him to inject any more strength into his movements, but he proves you wrong time and time again; the wind’s knocked out of you as he braces himself and fucks you harder, sharper into the bed, and the only noises you can make are weak whimpers and choked sobs. Your mind’s so overrun with pleasure that your climax hits your body first before your mind fully parses it; your back arches again, and you mewl out something broken, something that sounds like his name as you come undone.

Mark still doesn’t relent, the tremble in your legs somehow only inspiring him to put more power in his thrusts. Even through the dazedness that comes with all the stimulation, you can see the fine details you’ve come to know so well — the tightness in his jaw, the growing flush across his collar, the quick heaving of his chest. He’s close too, so close he’s just holding himself back out of sheer force of will to make sure he can watch you come down from your climax completely. You don’t know why he has to, but you want to see him let go too, and you scramble for words, for more touch — pressing your thighs firm against his sides to keep him close, locked — just to get him there.

“Will you mark me up one last time?” You breathe out. He reacts almost instantaneously, moving to lean down and press his mouth against the still-untouched side of your neck, but your palm on his chest stops him from doing so. Surprise crosses his face, followed by slight confusion. You squeeze your thighs against him, trying to make your point, but even then, his brow furrows. “Mark me — inside.”

His eyes widen, and his hips stutter before they resume pace, his fingers digging into your stomach almost painfully as he tries to keep himself in control. “I— no, you know I can’t…”

“Do you want to?” You egg him on, your hand dropping from his chest to land on top of his again, adding to the pressure until you’re sure he can feel every small movement, every throb of his own cock inside you. “You can, you know — make me yours, from the inside out.”

“God — we can’t; you know we’d be in so much trouble.”

“But I’d let you anyway, if you wanted to. Do you ever think about it, Mark?” Your fingers toy with his, almost like you’re having a casual conversation instead of a situation in which he’s deep inside you, already aching for release. “Fucking your cum deep into me, letting it seep into my stomach — making sure no one else can fill me up?”

“Jesus,” he growls, and he reluctantly slips his hands out from under yours to grip your thighs. Realistically, he has enough strength to peel them away, have you release him, but his hold just tightens, not really making any motion to do so. You see the thought flash in his eyes, serious even just for a moment. He thinks about it all the time.

“Think about it,” you urge, your voice soft but close to a demand. “And every time you do, remember one day, you will — because you’re the only one that can.”

He tilts his head back, letting a growl rip from his throat, and he finally manages to push your thighs apart. You let him, let them fall apart so he can slip out of you. You watch him shift upwards, his knees on either side of your torso, and you’re met with the erotic sight of him fisting his cock in front of you, urging himself into completion. You do the only thing you can think of to help; you open your mouth wide, pushing your tongue out, silently asking for his load.

“Even when you do that, you’re fucking pretty,” he groans out, and his thumb presses his cock down, resting the underside flush against your tongue as he rocks his hips. “How much prettier are you going to look with my cum all over your face?”

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out, and you don’t have to respond; he gets the answer he wants with one last thrust against your tongue, and you close your eyes briefly, allowing yourself to drink in the taste, the smell of his cum as it streaks across your cheeks, all over your lips. You hear his release as it comes too — the soft rumble from his chest, the release of air that gently whistles through his teeth.

When you open your eyes again, Mark is looking down at you, a warm flush creeping up his cheeks and ears again; he’s breathless, panting as he comes down from his high. From the daze of his climax, a slightly sheepish look of apology crosses his face, and he reaches down, seemingly without any real plan, to clean you up, only to withdraw, slightly bemused, when you shake your head.

A laugh escapes him when you shimmy out from under him, straighten up, and extend your arms upward, puckering your lips in slight demand. You think he might reject you, but Mark doesn’t even hesitate longer than a second. He swoops down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, and your thighs press together tight as you enjoy the feeling of his tongue swiping away his cum from your bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, sucking softly as if to clean you completely.

When he pulls away, his head dips into your shoulder; again, his face turns to press against the mark he’d left, and his teeth nip at the soft bruise that’s already begun to blossom. Satisfied by the soft noise you make at the sensitivity you feel from the contact, he breathes out, long and steady, against your skin.

“Just… can’t get enough of you,” he finally exhales, pressing another kiss to your neck; it’s gentler, situated just under your jaw.

“You don’t ever have to think about having enough,” you whisper, leaving a light nuzzle against his shoulder. “Just always think about having more.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, but he nods, accepting your offer anyway. A moment of silence passes, where you’re wrapped up in each other, his weight against you in a blanket of heat, and it stretches to what almost feels like an eternity — if not for the phone suddenly ringing again, Donghyuck’s name coming up on the ID. You both start, and Mark reaches over, fumbling with the sides of his device before he finds and toggles the silent switch.

“Seriously,” he grumbles, watching the call drop just for it to start up again, the screen flashing.

“We kind of left him hanging, to be fair.”

“No fairness.” Mark tosses the phone to the foot of the bed, where it lies, facedown and buzzing. “He got more than he deserved today.”

You watch him as he slips off the bed, rearranging himself before clipping his jeans button back into place. He whispers a gentle ‘be right back’ and exits the room, leaving the door only slightly ajar. You hear the water run in the bathroom, and a few moments later, Mark returns to your side, holding a damp towel.

He leaves a kiss after each light swipe across your face, as if to apologize for the pain he thinks he might be causing; you laugh, partly because it’s ridiculous, but mostly because you like it. He cleans your mouth last, even though there’s already nothing left, just so he has an excuse to leave a long, lasting kiss there.

You think it’s the last you’ll get for now, but he surprises you by bending down even further, hiking your shirt up your torso again. His hand rests on your thigh, keeping himself balanced as he presses a flutter of kisses around your navel, lingering at the exact spot that sits above where he knows his cock hits every time he bottoms out in you.

“One day,” he whispers into your skin before he looks up at you, his eyes shining. “I’ll really make you all mine.”

“Dummy.” Your voice is just as low, and you pull his head up again, enjoying the brush of his hair against your hand, the swoop of his jaw under your palm. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Every single day, considering I’ll never get tired of it.”

You hum, not one to deny him of what he asks anyway; you push him back onto his calves, climbing back onto his lap; it’s your favorite way to be near him, you decide, with almost nothing between you, almost everything of yours touching everything of his — like you fit in him perfectly. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling their soft rise and fall as his breathing steadies, and you squirm a bit, if only to make sure his arms are locked securely around you — to make sure he won’t let go. Just like that, in his arms, you say it again — a truth, a fact, and a promise.

“I already am.”

4K notes · View notes

atinysuh · 7 months

Text

ateez and their favorite sex positions + explained

yunho, jongho: reverse cowgirl - ok hear me out, imagine yunho guiding the movements of your ass with his huge hand as you bounce on his dick while you look back over your shoulders to watch his expressions. he thinks its so hot to watch you performing on top of him that you almost can see the sparkles on his eyes. he usually let you ride him like this when he knows you had a long ass day at work or college or both and you need to take the stress out of you, so he offers his dick for you to do whatever you want because he just wanna make you feel good. on the other side… jongho also LOVES this position since he can watch your curves. his favorite body part on you is your thighs and the tattoos on it so every time he has the chance to see them bouncing on his cock he’ll take it. he’ll just relax his head on his hands and bite his lips while enjoying his girl. and you also love his thick thighs so you two are even. phew… he’s so fucking hot.

yeosang, mingi: you on top - yeosang loves leaving love bites on your neck and squeezing your waist while you ride him. out of all the girls he has dated in his life you’re definitely the only one who knows how to ride him RIGHT. because let’s be honest, my man’s got a big dick and you can take 100% of him and that’s one of the numerous reasons he fell in love with you at the first place. you kinda got the sauce. he also loves to feel your sweet vanilla cherry scent, he thinks is very sexy, so be careful because sometimes he can get drunk of you! he just place his face in the crook of your neck as you ride him and closes his eyes and stays there guiding your hips, like yunho, but in this case by the waist. okay and mingi… well, mingi is something else. he completely loves sucking on your nipples when you’re on top of him, hands on your ass spanking every now and then to remind you he’s the only one in the world who can bottom you out like that. he kinda asserts some dominance without even noticing and you can’t help it but call out his name every time you go up and down his dick. also, has a huge size kink.

san: BACKSHOTS - 6 words. on the way by jhené aiko. this song is SO choi san coded, every time i hear that “booty clapping from the backshots while we watch porn on the laptop” verse san’s the first person that comes to my mind. we all know he loves a big thick curvy ass that he can spank whenever he pleases. also “inhale the smoke while you stroke inside it” makes me literally malfunction since my biggest guilty pleasure is san getting high and passing the blunt to you while he breaks your back. if i could dedicate one song to one man it would be on the way to san because oh my god i could spend hours talking about this topic but imma stop before i pass out.

seonghwa: face off - we all know seonghwa’s the romantic type… but also the freak type. he likes it when you two are seated at the end of the bed or on the couch or even on the kitchen chair and have you like this, on top of him, facing him. as i said, when you’re fucking in the kitchen, for example, he usually put his elbow on the table behind him and expect you to ride his dick but sometimes it can get a little bit hard for you to keep a steady pace in this position so he loses his patience and quickly switch positions. you’re now laying on the kitchen counter. we also know he’s a worshipper, so he’ll make you feel so loved in his arms even tho he’s fucking the soul out of you. well, love and affection is something you’ll always receive when it comes to having a relationship with seonghwa whether is fwb, a date, a one night stand or a marriage… but he’ll also fuck you HARD and when i say hard i MEAN IT because we’re talking about a fucking aries here and as an aries myself i know exactly what goes on on his mind when it comes to sex.

hongjoong: missionary - still talking about zodiac signs, for those who don’t know, hongjoong’s a scorpio and girl let me tell you about scorpios… ma’am they are another type of freak, like, they literally invented freak, to me they are sex gods. and even tho this is a common sex position doesn’t mean hongjoong will make it ordinary. he’s very possessive so he wants to make sure that you know you’re HIS and his only and he does that by pinning both of your wrists with one hand while he chokes your neck with the other. sex with him is always pleasurable, he’ll satisfy you 200% of the time, overwhelm you even. but you can’t never get enough of him. also, he likes to hear it when you say that your pussy is his for him to please and your body is his for him to touch and that you belong to him. his moto is saying that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you because he couldn’t stand the thought of somebody else touching your body. i love hongjoong so much.

wooyoung: spoon - OK… i see wooyoung fucking you in a spoon position and it can be any type, with your leg up, down, kissing your neck, grabbing your breasts, chocking you, biting your lobe teasing you, but as long as it is in a spoon position. ooooh he loves the way you bite your bottom lip and do that crying expression with your eyebrows when you tell him to slow down and he just gives you a sassy smirk and says nothing but starts fucking you ROUGHER. you can barely open your eyes to look at his hungry eyes looking back at you because it’s rolling with pleasure. all you can do is whine and not even when he cums he’ll stop, he likes overstimulating you AND him.

#ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop smut #ateez drabbles #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez san #ateez yunho #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez seonghwa #ateez yeosang #ateez hongjoong #ateez wooyoung #kpop scenarios

1K notes · View notes

ellecdc · 19 days

Note

so what if im ovulating 🙄 doesnt change anything

anyways closer to a full moon remus would be so mean and rough and sirius would have to be the one thats soft with you and praises you and its such a 180 it makes you feel even dizzier than you were already feeling, hed coo and tell you how “youre doing such a good job for our moony, sweet girl” and remus would just be grunting “mine mine mine mine”

ive not rly studied for my exam do u think theyd pass me if i wrote this instead? xoxo

....... I'm not proud of this.......

wolfstar x fem/afab!reader close to the full moon (nsfw, 18+)

CW: pure filth, 100% smut. little fluff in the aftercare. p in v sex, cumming inside someone, over stimulation, slight subspace mention (?), slight dom/sub dynamics if you really squint and look at it sideways, writer is still new to writing smut and not well versed so be nice

There were quite a few things that Remus and Sirius had in common.

They were both very mischievous, they were both funny and teasing, they were both very protective and possessive, and they both seemed crazy about you.

But there were also a lot of differences between your two boyfriends.

Remus was calm and assured; he was your rock and safe space when life got crazy. He was the good cop to Sirius’ bad cop, he was always down to leave the party early, and he was so incredibly soft with you.

And Sirius, whilst soft on you, was rarely ever soft with you. He was boisterous and excitable; always down for fun and adventure. He was quick to anger but just as quick to fold when your lip wobbled or you bat your eyelashes at him, and he knew how to push all of your buttons like a professional pianist’s fingers dancing along the keys of your soul.

And it was because of this that you found your current predicament quite contrary to the norm (and thus, so much hotter).

“I…I can’t, I can’t.” You cried breathlessly; currently held upright by a strong arm around your ribs and another hand gripping your neck.

The only response you got from the boy behind you was a low grumble as he tightened his grip on you and thrusted into you with new vigor.

“Can you give Rem one more, sweetness?” Your usually very brazen boyfriend murmured softly, pushing some of your sweaty hair away from your face so he could see you.

You keened and shook your head as you felt Remus move his hand that had been roughly gripping your waist down to your clit; every muscle in your body strung taut in response.

“She’s close.” Remus gruffed from behind you before replacing his teeth gently into your neck.

“Are you close, sweets?” Sirius confirmed.

It was too much, too much. You were very quickly reaching your… (third? Fourth?) orgasm of the evening and you weren’t even sure you’d been going at it for that long.

Sirius was in much the same state, currently soft and satiated below you where he’d just spilled down your throat before you were pulled back up vertically to the sound of steady chants of “mine” by Remus.

That had been his third of the evening too.

“You’ve been so good, baby; so good for our Moony, yeah?” He cooed at you softly as he sat up. You felt tears form in your eyes as Remus shifted you in his grip so that your knees were barely touching the bed any longer.

“Tell her she’s been a good girl, Moons.” Sirius encouraged gently, taking your hand in his that you quickly held in a death grip.

“S’good.” Remus nearly growled behind you. “My perfect girl.”

You cried out as you felt yourself fall over the edge one last time, tears falling down your cheeks as Remus fucked you through it.

Remus shifted his hands again to grip each of your wrists behind your hips and let your torso fall forward into the bed as he sped up his already merciless pace into your sopping cunt; the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing against the walls of the room.

You felt Sirius’ hand push hair away from your neck and rub a thumb against your temple.

“Gonna fill your good girl up, Rem?” He purred to your boyfriend.

Though you couldn’t see it, you could hear the two of them share a deep kiss which never even slowed Remus’ thrusts.

“Mine.” Remus repeated as he pulled away from Sirius.

“All yours, Moony. Show her how much you love her, hm?”

And with that, Remus’ thrusts stuttered before he was spilling deep inside of you.

He came with a sound that bordered a whine and a growl as he fell forward; his body blanketing yours and burying his face into your neck as you both fought to catch your breath.

You’re not sure if you had fallen asleep, but the next thing you knew you could feel gentle kisses being pressed to your shoulder as Remus pulled out of you as gently as possible; with how oversensitive you were, it still caused you to hiss.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, dovey.” He whispered; pressing more kisses to your neck. “Are you sore?”

You whined in response and tried to shove your face further into the bed.

“Talk to us baby, are you okay?” Sirius added, appearing beside you and encouraging you to face him.

“M’Okay.” You mumbled, staring what you were sure was rather dopily at your long-haired boyfriend.

“I think Pads ran you a bath, sweet thing.” Remus murmured quietly, rubbing soothing strokes up and down your spine from behind you. “You feel okay to get up?”

“Yeah.” You sighed, though made no movements to rise from your current horizontal position.

You heard Sirius chuckle but Remus made a sympathetic cooing sound. “I’m so sorry, dovey. Are you sore?”

“No. Just sensitive.” You grumbled as you pushed yourself up to sit back on your ankles. “That was a lot.”

Remus sighed and brushed some hair away from your face. “It was a lot, but was it too much?” He clarified; tone inlaid with a subtle vulnerability completely at odds with the relentlessness he’d just treated you with.

“No.” You said as you offered him a sleepy smile. “Not too much.”

“I, for one, had a ton of fun.” Sirius said with a clap of his hands, causing Remus to snort a laugh.

“Yeah I bet you did.” He responded teasingly.

“Wanna take a bath, princess? Go pee and then you can climb in with moons.” Sirius instructed as he helped you stand up on slightly wobbly legs.

“No, she can climb in with you.” Remus argued.

“Why would she climb in with me? I ran the bath for the two of you.”

“I was the one who took things too far, so-” Remus started, causing both you and Sirius to squawk in protest.

“She just said it wasn’t too much.” Sirius drawled. “Let me take care of you guys!”

“No!”You listened to the two boys argue over who got to perform the aftercare for the other (and thus, who loved each other the most, according to Sirius) as you went pee and then sunk into the perfectly drawn bath alone.

816 notes · View notes

matzprincess · 1 month

Text

HOT TO GO! (k.hj)

pairing: non idol!hongjoong + afab!reader

rating: mature (18+) minors dni!

a/n: i got carried away and wrote full smut, sorry not sorry hehehe

trafoamp series

cw: smut, long leadup, boyfriend!hongjoong, dancing/clubbing, song lyrics incorporated (the song plays at the club), mention of p in v at first, relating to the lyrics, making out, quickie, public sex (fucking in a club bathroom), unprotected sex & pull out method (be safe irl!), ‘emergency lube’ used, joong is a panty thief, one singular spank, more sex foreshadowed

it was a hot saturday night when the new hottie you’ve been seeing casually, kim hongjoong, showed up to your place to take you out to the club for some dancing. he looked even more irresistible tonight than ever, his blonde hair pushed back, his silk button up with the buttons opened at the top, showing off his pecs. he also wore some slacks and what looked to be an overpriced belt, which you would normally have poked fun at him for, but tonight it really tied his look together.

you joined him in the lyft that waited for you both outside your apartment, and you sat together in the backseat. he looked hot, and you looked hot, we’re gonna be the hottest couple in the club tonight, for sure you thought to yourself. as you arrived to the club you guys waited in line to have your ids checked, before walking in to the dim club lights, both of your groups of friends were there, but tonight was about you two, your friends could wait.

you both made it out on the floor, and began dancing amongst yourselves. it was not before the perfect song for the moment came on: hot to go! by chappell roan. as the intro played:

five six, five six seven eight!

you grabbed his hand as the beat began. you moved to the middle of the dance floor as the lyrics started and said:

i could be the one or your new addiction

it’s all in my head, but i want nonfiction

you two began freely moving your bodies together to the beat. as the lyrics went on, you kept on moving, working up the sweat due to the heat of the club and the sweaty bodies around you. you were thinking how perfect this moment was, the song and your ridiculously hot dance partner/boyfriend all fitting together perfectly as the song continued:

baby do you like this beat?

i made it so you’d dance with me

it’s like a hundred ninety-nine degrees

when you’re doing it with me, doing it with me

it was indeed perfect, because it did feel like it was hotter than hell in the club on the crowded dance floor. it was all the more hot because you had hongjoong at your side. the song continued to the chorus:

H-O-T-T-O-G-O

you can take me hot to go

H-O-T-T-O-G-O

you can take me hot to go

you kept on dancing with him, watching him move his body alongside yours, getting all sweaty, was making you think about how he’d look on top of you, getting sweaty like this while moving his body in tandem with yours like on the dance floor, but instead, fucking your brains out. the second verse went on:

well i woke up alone, staring at the ceiling

i try not to care, but it hurts my feelings

you don’t have to stare, come here, get with it

no one’s touched me there in a damn hot minute

you reflected on the lyrics as you danced, thinking about how you could relate, you haven’t been touched anywhere in a hot minute, and you wanted hongjoong badly now, after this song was over, you knew exactly what to do. the song went on, and distracted you from your thoughts:

and baby don’t you like this beat?

i made it so you’d sleep with me

it’s like a hundred ninety-nine degrees

when you’re doing it with me, doing it with me

the song continued to it’s catchy prechorus and chorus, eventually finishing, you felt the urge pull hongjoong into the club bathroom and to fucking, which you just happened to do. you took his hand and dragged him quickly into the biggest stall in the women’s bathroom before making out with him. he was caught off guard, but not hesitating, as you moved this on and pulled away from the kiss.

“i need you so badly” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. he just chuckled, “i need you too” he said, before his hands began to feel you up and pull the bottom of your dress up. you grabbed your emergency travel sized bottle of lube from your bag and pulled down his zipper and took out his cock before putting some lube onto it.

he then removed your panties before slipping them into his pocket. you smiled at his dirty action and bent over the toilet and held onto the lid for him to insert himself into you. as he did so, you could hear the slight sound of the club music from outside the bathroom. he thrust into you from behind, his hips snapping against your ass, causing him to groan at the recoil of your ass against him. he kept thrusting, both of your breathing getting heavier as you both began to sweat.

he held onto your hips and kept a steady rhythm of thrusts, him groaning quietly and you moaning in a hushed tone. as you both reached your orgasms, you felt like your body was on fire, you never did anything this risky before, you felt bad, but in the best way possible. he kept fucking into you, both of you wishing no one would walk in as you both chased your upcoming releases.

your orgasms weren’t too eventful, they hit you both at about the same time, him making you cum first before he pulled out and came on your ass. he groaned an almost inaudible “fuck” as he came. after you came down from your highs, he grabbed a large wad of toilet paper and wiped down your ass, giving it a slight tap after doing so. he chuckled as you pulled your dress down and he put his dick away.

you kissed him on the cheek as you both regulated yourselves, you both made a dash out of the bathroom and back into the dimly lit club, hand in hand. you guys hid in the corner to order a lyft back to your apartment, his arm around your waist. you knew there would be more sex to come when you got back to your place.

260 notes · View notes

lostinforestbound · 27 days

Text

And for my grand finale of my Rolan brainrot thoughts, the moment you probably have all been waiting for:

Rolan NSFW Headcanons

MDNI

Disclaimer: If you think differently than what I write here that is totally okay! These are just opinions!

First and foremost, I believe he's a switch (or a Verse)! It can also depend on his partners preference, but he doesn't mind doing one or the other. I will say that he can have trouble bottoming/submitting super early on because it can be a very vulnerable experience, and he may get overwhelmed quickly. Will he admit that? Of course not, he's too prideful and his communication skills are horrid.

There's a lot of talk about with whether Rolan is a virgin or had a couple flings in the past during his time in Elturel, and I like either one! The most important thing is that he's definitely inexperienced. He doesn't know what he likes or dislikes yet, and would like to explore that with his partner once he's comfortable.

Bite him! Mark him! Give him hickies! Gods he goes absolutely insane for them, especially when he's on the receiving end. He would prefer all of it to be under the collar, but one of his favorite places is that tender spot right between the jaw and ear. It's one of the many ways to get him mewling. He'll definitely bite back if his partner likes it.

I would say he's pretty vanilla in general, but is open to trying something new if his partner is kinkier. It's something he would have to work up to as it can be intimidating, but with enough reassurances he's willing to try anything once. Besides, if he doesn't like it, he's pretty vocal about it and they know not to try again.

He wouldn't like being heavily restrained or gagged (at least at the same time), it feels too demeaning for him. I think he would like the idea of him being blindfolded, but would request that his partner keeps a hand on him at all times so he knows that they're still there. This would be a once in a while type of deal as it can get overwhelming quickly.

Speaking of dislikes: deliberate pain is a turnoff. Anything that would intentionally hurt he's not into. So things like whipping, harsh choking, smacking around, or any kind of pain infliction, he can't do it whether it's giving or receiving. (But he would still be into marking like I said earlier!) I don't think he would outright dislike degradation but those kinds of nights are on the rare side.

Now for the likes: Praise!!! For the love of the gods, praise this man, he loves it and his cock throbs when he's receiving it. It's the best way to get him worked up as well. Ordering him around is also good, he's very obedient and an incredible listener.

The act of intimacy is private for him, so public sex is definitely a big no. He wants everything to be private and only with his partner. He doesn't want to be anxious about getting caught while in the middle of things, it ruins his mood. Besides, his partner wants to keep his whines, moans, whimpers, and begging to themselves. They're such pretty sounds.

He tends to feel guilty whenever he's not in the mood or has to stop anything they're doing, it's instinctive and frustrates him. He knows he has no reason to feel guilty, his partner reassures that all the time, but sometimes that guilt crawls into the back of his mind. His depression and panic disorder cause him to have low libido, so he's not in the mood for intimacy most days. Though he's still just as satisfied with purely focusing on his partner and not himself. (When he works on himself and finds solutions to help him with his mental health, his libido increases!)

King of Oral Sex. After learning about his partner's body and practicing for a few sessions, he's incredible at it. It ends up being one of his favorite things to do, some nights he evens pleads for it, begging to taste them.

The best way his partner will find out he's horny is the way the base of his tail arches upward. That tail has a mind of its own, and he can't quite control it. He uses his tail a lot, using to either hold their thighs apart or wrap around their torso desperately. (Or if his partner is a tiefling/dragonborn, wrap around their tail!)

His more sensitive areas besides his neck are the insides of thighs and his pelvic area. If you play with his chest enough though, that becomes sensitive as well.

He definitely starts bringing in magic bedroom as soon as he gets comfortable. Imagine what they could do with some of these spells! Mage hand (or multiple of them), disguise self, entangle, maybe fly as well...ah, telekinesis is also a good one! How about enhance ability? If either him or his partner can't use words, they'll both gently cast detect thoughts to check in.

Aftercare is extremely important to him, whether he's giving or receiving it. He and his partner switch depending on who wants to do it that night. Though being on the receiving end of it, it makes him feel so loved. It won't take long for him to start purring, falling asleep in their arms. When it's his turn, he takes his time and is incredibly tender. He'll get anything they ask for and more.

(And we're done! I hope you enjoyed!!! I had a lot of fun making these and I hope to make more in the future when I reopen requests! If you have your own headcanons, please share!)

#forest-writes #rolan #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan bg3 #rolan x tav #rolan x reader #rolanites #rolan nation #rolan brainrot

201 notes · View notes

yooglefics · 18 days

Text

Reveal — Part three: celebrating

Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader ( camboy!yoongi x camgirl!reader ) Wordcount: 4,513 words Genre: 18+ / smut. mdni! remember to not use fics as your only source of sex ed. Summary: Your birthday celebration takes a turn when Jungkook forgets to uninvite a particular guest. Part 3 of Recording & Editing. Read it in that order for context. More warnings under read more.

Includes: 3k words of just smut. Mentions of posting / selling sex content. Dirty talk. Use of pet names ( baby, doll, good girl? ). Fingering ( f ), Oral sex ( f and m ). Frottage. Cum play? A bit of overstimulation? Possessive Yoongi because Reveal!Yoongi is just like that and I can't do anything about it. It's true, I tried. Author's note: Okay, I think this is actually the last one for this. A trilogy is fine, right? But also don't quote me on that because clearly I can't seem to know how to stop writing this pair and I'm watching Jungkook from a distance like 👀 but shhh Which speaking of, I was thinking and if you want to know more about the characters in this verse specifically, you can send an ask with “( reveal!verse )” at the beginning, maybe specify if you want it to be answered ic with “( @ reveal!theirname )” , and a question or whatever you want to say. Idk, thought it could be fun~ Also, I made a post with different options for tag lists in case anyone is interested. You know, for future projects and stuff. But don't feel preassure to request it, and thank you for following this mini series. Anyway. I hope you like this and if you do please remember to comment, reblog, ask, follow, and whatnot. And again, thank you for reading <3

“You know, you could reply instead of just staring at it,” Jungkook says, over your shoulder.

You're sitting in your living room, phone in your hand with the audio post on screen. There was no way of denying you were caught, you had already embarrassed yourself by acting like a schoolgirl when telling him about SugaD leaving a comment.

“But what if I say something dumb and he deletes it?”

“Why would he do that? He thinks you're cute,” he teases.

“The cutest,” you correct, silly smile on your face once again.

“See. You should shoot your shot and talk to him, he clearly is interested in you too,” he winks, finally walking around the couch to sit at your side, fresh bowl of popcorn on his lap.

“But it's all so crazy. I don't even know how he found my page, he only follows big creators.”

“Well, he asked me.”

“What?”

“He asked who you were,” his Bambi eyes blink at you, fear creeping on his soft expression, “I… don't kill me, please.” He moves away from you and that makes you turn to him, leg over the couch and phone forgotten.

“Jungkook? What did you do?” All the scenarios go through your mind, imagining the worst. He told him you kind of have a big old crush on him even if you have never seen his face? Did he tell him about the joke of suing him because he is so—

“And I was busy so I thought, you know, he works with music and edits his own content and it seemed like a good idea,” he is talking so fast and you realize you missed the beginning of it, but before you can ask him to start over he just burst it, “so he edited it.”

“He what?”

“The audio. Your audio. He edited it.”

“My… audio.” The audio you're sure included the start of his video.

Fuck.

Shit.

That's so much worse.

You should delete your account. Delete yourself. You want to move to another country and change your name.

“Fuck.”

“I'm sorry. I should have asked you, but I figured…” he trails off, coming closer again. “I just… I didn't think it was a big deal because… well, I didn't know he was gonna subscribe to you. He only subscribes to people he is friends with and I know he doesn't even watch their stuff.”

You can tell he is trying to make you feel better, and although you appreciate the effort, everything is confusing. Does that mean he wants to be friends? But he doesn't watch his friends's content so… no friends?

“Fuck.” You murmur again.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asks softly, worrying the ring on his bottom lip.

“I… don't know.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No. Let's finish the movie.”

But you can concentrate for the rest of it, and know that you'd have to watch it again another time in case your friend brings up something important about the plot. But now, the only thing in your head is theories about what you're going to do about that one particular comment and, again, you consider just deleting the whole thing.

Jungkook invites you the next weekend to the restaurant, it's his free day but he tells you he can get you the birthday special even if it’s one day early and he can even sing for you. You tell him you are only going if he doesn't make a whole thing out of it. You'd wear the birthday hat and blow out the candles, but if he dares to bring more attention to you, you actually will kill him.

He believes you.

And so, here you are. Sitting in a booth in front of Jungkook and Hanna, your best friend. Big chocolate cake in front of you that they insisted on getting because “you can have it for dessert for the next week and think about how much we love you”, and also because you love chocolate.

“Sorry. Am I late?” A voice behind you interrupts the end of the birthday song, your smile falling because you could recognize it anywhere, and the fact that he is here makes you panic.

“Oh, shit… ah…” Jungkook stumbles over his words, even comes close to knocking his drink. “Sorry. Hi.” He greets the guy and throws an apologetic look your way. “This is my friend Yoongi.”

“Oh, hi. I'm Hanna and didn't know we were waiting for someone, but good thing we got a big cake, uh?” she jokes and looks at you. She does that whenever you're around people and you don't talk, her way of making you feel included.

But right now you want to disappear. Birthday crown and all. Maybe take the cake too.

“Hi,” you say timidly, eyes on Jungkook instead.

“I…” he starts, remorseful look on his face as he explains, “invited Yoongi last week, didn't want to third wheel with you two.”

“Oh, that's fun! Well, you want to sit there or should I move?” Hanna proposes and you're about to say she should come to your side even if that means Jungkook has to stand up too, but Sug— Yoongi speaks faster.

“I’ll sit here. Is that okay?”

You only nod, scooting to your right to make space for him. To not be so close he notices how nervous he makes you just with his presence.

He smells nice. Fresh and woody at the same time, and is only overwhelming because is him. Because a lot of things about him are a mystery still and you are about to unlock them all right now.

“Those are cute,” Hanna says.

“Ah, yes. I… these are for you,” a bouquet is presented on your line of vision. Is not big nor too much, the perfect size to be a nice present and it lets you admire the flowers’ beauty. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn't have to.”

“You don't like it?” If you weren't so focused on your own nerves you'd have noticed the ones on his voice.

“I do.” You quickly say. It's cute. The lavender mixed with two types of white flowers you don't recognize but you love the look of, mostly the one that looks like little stars. “Is really pretty. Thank you.”

“I'll bring you a drink,” Jungkook says, and looking at him you know he needs one himself. You could actually kill him after this.

“Wait, where is the restroom?” Asks Hanna and your eyes lift from your present so fast your neck almost hurts, but she is quickly disappearing in the direction Jungkook points her to.

And that's what you get for keeping everything a secret from your best friend. Karma as its finest.

“Pff,” you breathe, sinking into your seat.

“I can go if you want me to,” Yoongi says softly at your side.

“What? No, no is—” you try to explain is not him. Nothing is wrong actually. Everything is perfect and you're totally not freaking out.

“You haven't looked my way,” does he sounds hurt? “Is alright. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just thought… I don't know. JK invited me weeks ago and then I found out who you were,” you cringe at that, knowing he most likely means when he listened to your audio. “I figured I'd take the chance and meet you.”

“Why? I mean. Don't you feel uncomfortable because of the…” finishing your sentence feels unnecessary and saying it at loud is embarrassing.

“The fact that you watch my videos?”

“I swear I only watched like three and I don't do that with all of them is just— Are you laughing?” Finally you turn to him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Sorry, sorry. But is that supposed to make me feel better?”

You don't answer.

“Of course I don't mind.” He leans in, "If you sound that cute, I'll let you watch all of them for free.”

Breath caughts on your throat, looking at him with big round eyes. His face is right there and you try to take it all in. Clean shaved, jawline not too harsh and with soft features, crested moon shaped brown eyes, pink lips, and the way they curve up when he catches you staring at them.

“I don't want to go, but if you want me to, I'll do it.” he backs out, and somehow you can tell he is genuine.

“Stay.”

After dinner and some chatting, Jungkook offers to drive Hanna home and Yoongi takes you to his place. It’ss fancy, looks like taken out of a magazine and you tell him exactly that. He tells you if you want to judge his room too and with a laugh you tell him yes, because honestly, you're curious now.

You tell him it doesn't look too cozy and suggest investing in a nice blanket, he raises an eyebrow at you and finally you confess you're an interior designer by day. He tells you he is a music producer. And then you talk about how and why each of you decided to join OF and what kind of things you have discovered you like during that journey.

“Interesting,” he says when you confess you started following him because of a hand picture you saw somewhere else. He has been playing with your fingers while you lay on his bed, is relaxing and you don’t mind at all. “You said you were going to sue me, should I even be this close?”

“Oh my—” you pull away, covering your face. And he laughs. “Go away.”

“No, c'mon. It's cute.” He tries to turn your body to its side, but you don't give in. “Look at me, please.”

“No. I can't.”

“Why?”

“Because no.”

He laughs again, hand on your hip, “Baby, please?” Head shake is your answer, “I'm sorry. Should I confess something too?”

“Yes.”

“Let's see,” he props himself on his elbow, looking at you even if you are still covered. “I knew about you before the audio.”

“You did?”

“Well, Jungkook talks about you all the time and I was curious. I think it was the third time you guys collabed that I saw a picture and he mentioned your name on his page.”

“Which picture?” You ask, uncovering half your face to look at him, he smiles.

“The one with the books. You were holding one in front of you.”

You remember that. Like all your pictures with Jungkook, it was suggestive more than anything and in that one the pose made it look like you were touching yourself.

“And now I know what you sound like doing that,” he teases, “wonder if I'd be lucky enough to see it someday.”

“You've to stay subscribed and see,” is your turn to have fun.

“Should I make another instruction video for you?” or maybe not. And before you cover yourself again, he holds your wrist, bracelet digging a little on your skin but not enough to actually hurt. “Don't. Let me see you.”

“Yoongi…”

“Fuck. Don't say my name like that,” is only half joking, but he knows you can tell he wants you just as much. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod and his lips touch yours in a millisecond. They are soft, but his movements are quick, and soon his tongue is asking for permission to enter your mouth. With a moan, you granted happily and hungry to taste him.

His hand goes back to your waist, only resting before squishing it gently. Your own hand traveling to his nape and bringing him closer, your chests touching.

In need of air you break the kiss, and instead of stopping, his mouth keeps working down your jaw and neck, “ohh…” you try to breathe, throwing your head back just enough to give him space. It feels so good you don't want to stop.

And he doesn't. He continues until he reaches the fabric of your dress, covering your chest. He imagines your little gold collar he saw in some pictures. He thinks about buying you one on silver to match his own jewelry or buying a chain for himself the color of yours. Anything would do, he just wants you to be his and for people to know.

“W-wait,” your voice brings him back, and he stops immediately, “don't leave marks. At least not visible.”

“Okay, I can get creative.” A wink seals his promise and his hand moves to the buttons in the front of your dress, his lips following soon behind to attach themselves to the exposed skin. To your breast. He licks and kisses and when he reaches your nipple he flicks his tongue a few times.

That gets a good reaction from you, but he still asks “You like that?” because it does good to his ego and the mid-erection on his pants.

You nod between whimpers and can feel his laugh through his chest resting on your stomach, “is that enough?” You look at him, the lust on his eyes and his stupid smirk on his lips when he frees your abused skin from his mouth, leaving a bruise on your breast. “Is my tongue enough to make you cum, doll?”

And your pussy answers for herself. Legs impossibly close in search of some friction and, of course, Yoongi noticed.

“You need something?”

“P-please…”

“Tell me. I'll give you anything, baby.” His voice is raspy like on the videos you watch alone at night. Except is not through a screen and is actually directed to you. Is everything you wanted while touching yourself and for a second you wonder if it's really happening.

Running your hand through his hair you look at him, now lower on the bed and playing with the bottom of your dress while he waits for a sign between your folded legs, cheek against your thigh, letting you catch your breath.

“Yoongi?”

“Hmm?” his hand stops on your leg, heavy and warm.

“Touch me, please.”

And you don't have to tell him twice. His hands roam your body, while he leaves kisses here and there. Too desperate to finish unbuttoning it, the bottom of your dress gets pooled at your waist, revealing the lilac lingerie he saw a picture of the other day.

“So pretty,” he whispers, fingertips traising the embroidered details. It makes you shiver. “Fuck, I can see how wet you are.” His movements travel south to the patch over your entrance, and you respond just as he expects, moaning.

And before you can get used to that, his tongue is on you, flat over the wet and thin fabric. “Can't wait to taste you properly,” sounds a lot like a promise.

Biting your lip, you contemplate asking him to hurry, to give you anything. To get rid of all of your clothes yourself.

But he knows exactly how to drive you crazy.

Moving your panties to the side with the help of his left hand, the fingers on his right one make an appearance again. Collecting your wetness and using it to rub over your pussy, only applying little pressure at first. Moans echo throughout his room once again, louder and this time in the company of a couple groans from him when he finally pushes in.

“O-oh… oh my,”

“That's it. Let me hear your pretty sounds,” he encourages, letting you get used to the sensation before adding another one, his eyes on you the whole time. In the way you lick your lips before moaning, the way your hips move towards his hand asking to be fucked, the way your pussy wraps around his fingers.

“...more.” Is barely a whisper but he hears it, smiling at you.

“Want more? Is not enough?”

“Need you, please”

And how can he say no to you when you look at him that way. Like he is the only one that can give you what you need, how you want.

His head disappears between your legs, mouth watering at the thought. He can't even deny he was waiting for you to ask him to eat you out, he would do it in a second, whenever you want, because “oh, god, you taste so sweet.”

Feeling your legs closing he holds them back, pushing them against your torso with his free hand and squishing your soft skin just as tight as you are doing to his fingers. Thinking about how much force he would need to apply to leave a mark.

“F-fu… fuck. It, it feels so good, please.”

He is proud, lips curving lightly but without wanting to pull away to smile properly. His tongue laps at your entrance alongside his fingers, moving faster and faster, against that spot that makes your body tremble and makes the knot at the bottom of your abdomen want to scream.

“Please, please, please…”

And he knows what that means. Knows you're close and just need a little push, and he gives it to you in the form of a “Cum for me, baby.”

And you do. Head back and pussy tight around him, legs closing and hand pushing him away when his tongue keeps working, overstimulating and catching all that you give him.

“Oh… my…” you breath. Legs still shaking but feet finally on the mattress again.

He is standing at the end of his bed, one hand pushing his long hair back and the other unbuckling his belt, eyes on you while he takes you in. “Was that good?” He asks, you nod and he smiles matching yours. “Great. You deserve it.”

“You want some help with that?”

“What do you want?” Yoongi throws back, “You’re the birthday girl, after all.”

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, thoughts filled with ideas of the things you had wished to be able to do before, you watch him get rid of his jeans and boxers, his dick on full view for you. Only you. “Can I suck you off?”

Obviously, he can't say no, so he nods and you are quick to stand up, legs still feeling a bit weak after your orgasm, but it isn't a problem because as quick as your dress falls completely to the floor, you're kneeling in front of him, between his legs and hands on his tights.

You watch him stroke himself a couple times through gritted teeth, his other hand coming to cup your cheek as you get closer to his length. Saying you had been waiting for this wouldn't be an exaggeration, and without breaking eye contact you stick your tongue out, touching the blush tip slowly.

He sighed, as if he was, too, relieved at the contact. “So pretty.”

You push his hand away, taking his hardened length into your hand, only realizing then how big he actually is.

Tapping his dick on your tongue gets you a groan from him and you hum as you wrap your lips around the head, circling your tongue around it inside your mouth before letting go. He smiles at you, his chest moving fast as his breathing increases and his eyes are filled with lust. Your hand moves up and down when your mouth is not working, still wanting him to feel good.

Preparing yourself, you get closer again, taking more in and closing your eyes, adjusting to the girth.

“Fuck,” he moans, thumb softly stroking your face as his hand moves to the back of your neck when you imitate the previous movements of your hand, going up and down, taking more and more into your mouth. “Y-yeah, just like that.”

The encouragement helps the filling on your lower abdomen to build in again, pussy squeezing around nothing and moaning around his dick, making Yoongi clench his jaw, bucking his hip up, and letting his grip go only at the last second. He wants to fuck your mouth so bad. Only watching your lips around him is driving him crazy and you feel oh, so warm.

“So pretty, doll,” he compliments as you try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, only closing them when he hits the back of your throat.

You come up, catching your breath as you let your hand do some more work. Collecting your spit and rubbing your thumb on his sensitive tip. He reacts just as you expect, groans and head tilted back slightly, with his hands on either side gripping the black sheets. And that gives you an idea.

“Can you…” eyes are on you immediately, but you wish they weren't because that makes you shy and is even more difficult to ask.

“Tell me, baby.” He pleads, “I'll give you anything, just ask.”

But is easier to show than tell, and your finger grab around one of his wrists, positioning his hand on the back of your head. “Just… hold it.”

“Fuck.” He has to inhale quickly before nodding, are you reading his mind? “tap my thigh if it gets too much, okay?”

A nod of your own, licking your lips before taking his dick in your mouth once again, the simple weight of his hand being enough to encourage you to take more in and staying there a bit longer before bobbing your head.

Yoongi alternates between letting you follow your own peace and holding you down for a few more seconds every once in a while, finally letting himself slam his hips more harshly against your mouth and the back of your throat. His moans fill the air as he pushes into you. “feels amazing… you take my cock so well.” You hum, making his hips fuck into you at the vibration, increasing the tension on his lower abdomen. “Such a good girl.”

“I could fuck your pretty mouth all night,” he goes on, looking down at you and all the mess you've created between his legs. “Oh f-fuck. What a beautiful sight.” opening your eyes makes the view even better, and he holds your head down, making you gag around his dick, “ah… ah…” he lets go, not wanting to come just yet.

And it might be the first time you see him and his beautiful dick in person, but SugaD’s last video is fresh on your mind, —how could it not after the anxiety of him finding out— so you remember he likes to hold back. And is hot. But he is right, is your birthday celebration and you don't want to play by his rules.

“Are you close?” the hoarseness in your voice is surprising for a second, but you don't have time to think about how it's most likely going to hurt tomorrow because he is fixing your hair behind your ears with a devious smile on his beautiful face.

“Want me to come in your pretty mouth?”

“No.” He raises an eyebrow at the quickness of your answer. “I have an idea.”

Standing up, your knees thank you, only realizing then you'll also have to deal with that later, being so in your head while giving head, the weight of having him in your mouth a priority, that you didn't even care until then.

You're back laying on his bed, pulling Yoongi to be in front of you, between your legs. “Is going to be embarrassingly fast if you ask me to fuck you right now.”

And for a second you consider it. Because he is not saying no and because he looks so good like this, hands reaching down to hold your waist and bring you closer to him down the bed. But you shake your head no. “You ruined my plans today,” feeling the need to justify your pervy desires you explain, “I was supposed to take pics today for my birthday post, so now you have to help.”

“You want me to take pictures of you?” also not saying no, just clarifying, and you can see in the lust of his gaze he likes the idea.

“I want you to do something first,” shyness invades again but looking down at his hardened length is enough to deliver the message, “and then take a picture. If you want.”

Yoongi is close to you again, bending down to kiss you with a “fuck yes, I want to.” His dick is resting over your pelvis, and you can't help the involuntary thrust your own body does. It feels heavy, and warm, and just so perfect. And when he thrust his hips, frotting against yours, you can't take it.

“Y-yoongi,” and he does it again and again, and soon you're cumming by just the feeling and the thought of how would it be to be actually fucked by him, how much would he reach inside you, making you feel so full and “Ohhh… oh”

He holds you and kisses down your neck as you come down your high a second time, before kneeling once more at the end of the bed. “You look so fucking precious, baby,” he notes, hand wrapping around his dick once more.

“You look great too,” you offer, bitting your lip before letting honesty take over shyness, “I finally get to see you.”

“You been thinking about it?” He knows exactly what you mean. The reason he cuts it off his videos isn't just for privacy, is to give people something to wish for, to yearn.

You nod.

“Baby wants to see me cum?” Another nod, lost for words, but he is not having it. “Tell me.”

“Yoongi…”

“C'mon, baby. Tell me,” he taps his dick over your clothed pussy. Once, twice. Making your body jump at each touch. He teases the tip over your over-sensitive area and then taps again. Honestly, is hard to tell if he is teasing you or himself, but either works.

“I-I want to see you, please.”

His wrist moves in a faster rhythm, his other hand resting on your leg because he just needs to touch you. “Yeah? I'm going to cum,” he pants, “and you're going to show people how gorgeous you look covered on it.”

You really don't know how much he loves the idea of that, how much he wants to show the world you let him ruin you, how you whisper “please, please,” as he finishes, head thrown back and your name escaping his lips on a moan, shooting white over your naked stomach.

But you can imagine, his victory smile gives him away. And the way he keeps complimenting you all the while grabbing his phone and snapping picture after picture just confirms it.

But you can judge Yoongi too harshly, it does something to you as well. It helps your confidence and a proud smile matches his as he tells you people are going to hate him if you really post this on your page. And that newfound confidence tells you is going to be the first time you click upload without second-guessing yourself.

[ afterhours(y/n): Thank you for the birthday wishes! I indeed got a nice present, don't you think? [ picture ] ]

[ SugaD: Unbelievable 😻 Can we do something for my birthday too? ]

♡ Tag list: @m00njinnie , @sexytholland , @seoullove96 , @thelilbutifulthings , @disneyprincessshuri , @yoongibaybee ,

Thank you so much guys for your interest and support on this little series, I appreciate you 🥺💙

➪ Part one. | ➪ Part two | ➪ Updates for this verse

➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats ♡

#( writing. )#( reveal )#( reveal: celebrating )#min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi x f!reader

185 notes · View notes

arachine · 1 year

Text

warnings: canon-verse!ethan, male masturbation (not explicit), voyeurism (ethan listening to chad x f!reader), not proofread, literally typed this up before class >.< word count: 850 note: an idea that i want to eventually expand upon! hopefully people will be interested in a full fledged fic *ੈ✩‧₊˚

ethan who touches himself and listens through the wall whenever you’re over fucking chad. he can’t stand it. can’t stand that chad gets to have his way with you. can’t stand that the only sliver of you he gets is through a wall—and you’re so loud, every single time. all moans and drawls, equal parts pornographic and angelic. it’s fucking annoying is what it is.

sometimes he thinks you’re performing. making a show of it so that chad can finish, because chad couldn’t really be that good, could he? sure, he was a jock—had the brawn and stereotypical letterman jacket to prove it—but by no means did his reputation as a sex god actually hold any weight. couldn’t have. the guy doesn’t even know his right from his left—so there was no way in hell he knew where the clit was. or how to make a girl cum with his tongue in under five minutes.

or maybe he did. maybe ethan wasn’t giving him enough credit—but he settled on the former. because, if it wasn’t a performance, and all those moans—all those noises were real—then ethan thinks you’re doing it for him. that you’re this loud because you want him to hear. and he tells himself that the things you’re saying to chad are what you’re really saying to him. that those cries of ‘too much, can’t take it chad’s and those ‘you feel so good’s are all for him.

and if he really concentrates, he can hear you saying his name instead of his roommate’s. four letters turn into five. two syllables instead of one, and they drip from your lips in dulcet tones.

ethanethanethan, is what he hears before you make it over your peak. and it’s also the last thing he hears before he’s making a mess in his boxers. until he hears the bed dip in the other room, and then nothing. a loud silence. it’s then when he’s roused from his reverie, and becomes suddenly hyper-aware of the mess he’s sitting in. fucking pathetic. but he doesn’t linger in his self-pity for too long. makes the decision to climb out of bed and fill the silence with his heavy footsteps to the bathroom.

by the time he rounds the corner, he catches you slipping out of chad’s room. the hallway is dark, just barely illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the window, but he can still see the wanes of your face, and the dejected expression you’re wearing. he doesn’t like it.

“oh, hey,” you whisper when you notice his static silhouette, “he’s asleep. figured i’d use the bathroom before heading out—wait, were you gonna use the bathroom? shit, sorry, you can go first.”

ethan steps out of the shadows and into the moonlight. “yeah, but it’s alright. go ahead, i’ll just wait out here.” you mutter a quiet thanks before walking in and closing the door. the first thing he hears is you putting the toilet seat down, then he hears you pulling down your night shorts, until finally, he hears you peeing. it fills his throat with bile just thinking about the reason why you’re peeing in the first place. to flush out chad’s cum. yeah, he was aware girls had to pee after sex—regardless of whether or not there was a condom used—but he knew chad didn’t use condoms. at least, not with you.

he knew as much because the jock bragged about it before. told him that you were ‘on the pill’ and wanted him to ‘finish inside’ since your relationship was transitioning from friends-with-benefits to something with a little more commitments. you weren’t dating, per se, but you weren’t seeing anyone else—which makes him mad. furious, even. because ethan knew you, well, he was starting to get to know you. and he knew that you deserved someone who could feed your brain with intellectual thoughts. someone who could please you, who would protect you—kill for you.

someone like him. you deserve…him. the turn of a knob pulls him from his thoughts, and once again, he’s flashing you that faux-sweet smile, only this time, the entirety of his face is illuminated from the light of the bathroom.

“alright, thanks for letting me use the bathroom. i better go,” you gesture with a thumb pointing behind you, “have a good night, ethan.”

“you-“ he opens his mouth to speak, but promptly closes it. it was just barely above a whisper, and yet, you turn around again to face him.

“what was that?”

ethan sighs, something long and exasperated. he’s tired. of this, of chad, of you. he wants to sleep, to succumb to the deep-black darkness behind his eyelids when he lays his head down on his pillow later. but he does want to say something.

you deserve better. that’s what he wants to say—what he was going to say. but instead he just says, “you too.”

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x reader smut #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x you smut #ethan landry smut #scream vi smut #scream vi #scream smut #:: — LEXI WRITES !

1K notes · View notes

astaroth1357 · 1 year

Text

Most to Least Likely to Cry After Sex

Okay so, this might be a personal thing on my end, but I have long kept a running list of characters that I believe would cry after having sex. It is a perfectly natural response and there is absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about if it happens ... though it is surprisingly entertaining to think about in terms of fictional characters. And of course, I have a list for OM as well.

Contents: Nsfw/suggestive, depending on your definition, but not explicit. Emotional vulnerability explored.

~♡♡♡~

Levi

I think anyone could see this coming. Levi almost certainly has cried or would cry after sex. And depending on what you're doing, he may even cry during sex too.

Bless his little heart, it is 100% because he is always riding an emotional rollercoaster of the highest highs and lowest lows. The realization that somebody out there actually wants to be intimate with him would send his whole body into a meltdown. Have patience.

Mammon

Also kind of a no-brainer. He's only a little less likely to cry than Levi because he's better at putting up a front when he really wants to.

Unlike others on the list, Mammon gets super embarrassed if he gets overwhelmed and cries after sex but he rarely tries to hide it. It's kind of his way of reaching out for more affection, he wants to be coddled and reassured that his partner accepts him no matter what. He thrives on unconditional love like that.

Satan

Hear me out. Satan is canonically a kinky little fucker, I don't think he would cry after an especially "playful" rendezvous. It would be the really soft and intimate moments that get him everytime.

We have to remember, he's still a little new to this whole "experiencing feelings" thing. An emotion as overpowering as love is going to flatten him like a steamroller. He won't even realize that he is crying until his tears start staining the sheets. Be gentle. Talk him through it. Again, it's perfectly natural if it happens.

Belphie

I think Belphie will cry for bratty purposes more than anything else. I am wholly convinced that he will cry on demand if it gets him what he wants.

Lord forbid the MC tries to go anywhere before Belphie is ready because he may just grab onto them and start the waterworks. If you could withstand the full force of a pouty, teary-eyed Belphie begging just "5 more minutes" of cuddling, you're a stronger person than I am.

Simeon

Only lower than the other guys by virtue of having quite the stranglehold on his inner emotions, but he will let them out if he's comfortable to do so.

Let me be clear, Simeon wants to cry everytime. He wants to lose himself completely in his partner and let it all wash over him. It's just the social and moral questions surrounding what's happening that keep him from doing so. (Poor thing #1)

Asmo

Another person who can cry on demand or just get overwhelmed, but it won't happen often.

Put quite simply, Asmo's been around the block. He has a pretty good handle on himself even during his come downs. However, he knows how much it could mean to your partner if you're willing to show that side of yourself to them. So if MC says/does something that genuinely touches him, he will cry without shame.

Diavolo

Would almost certainly get misty-eyed if he was with someone he truly cared about. He may not cry, but he'll have to rub his eyes some.

Make. The. Prince. Feel. Loved. The realization that he has someone that he doesn't have order or trick into staying around would floor him. He's far, far too well-versed in maintaining a certain image to fully breakdown, but those feelings would all still be there regardless.

Lucifer

Also gets misty-eyed, particularly after make-up sex.

He would rather sheath his own nails into the skin of his palms than get caught crying, but if he really screwed something up (and was willing to admit it) then he would get a little vulnerable in the moment. It would be fleeting, though.

Solomon

It can get to him a bit, he's a pretty lonely guy, but he's more likely to make a joke or say something out of the blue just to hide from his feelings.

I don't think Solomon quite lets himself ponder or self-reflect on things that genuinely upset him. He's very goal-driven and future-focused, so indulging in these softer moments would be foreign to him. If he ever feels like crying, he'll immediately try to distract from it rather than letting the feelings out. (Poor thing #2)

Beel

I just don't see him crying. He's very comfortable with himself, he doesn't really repress his emotions, and he knows he's well-liked and well-loved. Beel would be just fine.

It's not a Solomon situation, of course. Beel does self-refect and he genuinely engages with others. I just don't think this would be a shocking level of intimacy to him. He already loves others about this deeply to start with, so just expect a really smiley Beel!

Barbatos

To be clear, Barbatos can cry and he has cried before in his life. It just won't ever be after sex.

Similar to Solomon, I think Barbatos lives his life with a certain level of detachment from the world around him. He wouldn't get overwhlemed after sex because he can't. It's not that his mind is elsewhere, it's that he blocks himself from getting too emotionally invested in such things to begin with. (Poor thing #3)

1K notes · View notes

alicerosejensen · 1 year

Text

Just headcanons where Leon is almost Sugar Daddy and just a guy who really wants love and care

I try not to deviate from the canon. Leon is even more likely here as an overly caring partner who does not mind the money for his S/O.

Warning: age difference

- The first thing you need to know is that Leon should have feelings for you so that he becomes someone like your patron.

- Among other things, he is well versed in people and wants you to be not indifferent to him, and not see him only as a bag of money.

- He needs your affection.

- He will buy you anything you want, in fact, despite the fact that he gets good money for his work, Leon doesn't spend much of it (apart from alcohol and leather jackets, and I'm sure he has a motorbike), so spending money on you is even a joy for him. No extra questions, you can not tell him anything at all, but just look at some thing in the store, go crazy with the price and leave, so that the next moment Leon grabs your hand and pays for everything that you put your beautiful eye.

- Leon is not embarrassed by your age difference, in fact, sometimes he even laughs at your jokes about being an old man. And no, he is not offended, he just does not have much time to learn about modern trends, fashion and other things, but he will listen to you with pleasure.

- Buys you flowers, or arranges home delivery.

- Leon is a complex and private person. He will never discuss his problems with you, and if you start asking him about it, he will gently push you away, but nevertheless, if you have problems, he will solve everything without hesitation. He took care of you, so this is another duty of his.

- Leon is a very gentle lover, but dominant. In bed with him there will be no particular rudeness and, first of all, he will strive to deliver pleasure to you. No spanking, no biting (I'm sure he has a trigger on them at all), insulting a partner. Only strokes, passionate kisses, perhaps hickeys, praise and teasing. Leon won't mind trying anything new with you, but if it's something that hurts you or him (whether it's short term or not) then he'll immediately refuse. And still, he will insist that you have a stop word.

- He has a lot of psychological traumas including ptsd, so getting back to the topic of sex, Leon wants tenderness in return from you. He likes the warmth of your body and the calm rhythm of your heart calms him. Not immediately, but he will ask you to go to bed with him without clothes so that he can enjoy your warmth and sleep a little peacefully. Leon will be happy if you do not refuse such a strange request. And yes, he loves to be a little spoon, but in moments of weakness, this is vital for him.

- For the fact that you help to survive these constant flashbacks, Leon tries to compensate you with his love and trips to expensive places. If you want, he will gladly take you somewhere for the weekend. Alpine skiing, expensive restaurants and an expensive hotel with a red "do not disturb" sign on the door of the room.

- Usually he is not jealous, but the thought of you leaving for someone else scares him. He has little experience in relationships, so he prefers to ask about what you want and he gives it to you. Do not be shy, just tell him about it, for you he will give you everything.

- From the above, he does not accept any betrayals: neither spiritual, nor even more so physical. It will hurt him too much, so you should not give him a reason to doubt loyalty. He is not paranoid in this regard and will not go crazy with rage just because you are just chatting with a friend you knows from school / college / university / work, but if he notices flirting on your part, then ... no good.

- You are only his girl, he likes to mention it and think about it, but he is also completely your man. No third parties. (sorry Ada he needs a healthy relationship)

- He's not paranoid out of jealousy, but he's paranoid out of your safety. He must make sure that your seat belt is fastened; hold his hand when crossing the road; God forbid you cut yourself or break something. His alarm sensor will simply overwhelm and break to hell.

- He loves to give you lace underwear.

- And glad when you seduce him.

- He will rarely call you by your first name (maybe if only something serious or at the very beginning of a relationship), mostly it will be cute nicknames.

-Don't ask about his work. Even when you are already in a long-term relationship, he still won't tell you much. Unless he works for the government and that's all.

- Leon doesn't want you to work either. He wants you to always wait for him with hugs when he comes home, he will probably even persuade you to leave the job where you are currently working, because he can fully provide for you. However, if you are burning with the ideas of creating a career, he will not interfere with this. Everything for your happiness.

- He likes quiet evenings. Like family with food and TV. In fact, he can play a console with you and probably beat you in some kind of shooter, but he will smile funny when, after successful headshots, you say that you should be taken to the special forces right now.

- Leon loves hugs more than sex.

- You are his spoiled sugar girl, and in this context, he calls you sugar because you are sweet.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #reader #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy headcanons #resident evil headcanons #headcanon

991 notes · View notes

endless-weightless · 8 months

Text

Nameless Ghoul NSFW headcanons

Got Ghost tickets and now I’m gonna be autistic about this band. Also kinda on the shorter side because I’m SO BUSY rn but the autism will pull me through 💪

CHARACTERS: Swiss, Rain, Sodo, Aether, Mountain, Phantom, Omega, Ifrit

TAGS: Smut, reader insert, BDSM, monsterfucking?, afab and amab!reader, lingerie, marking, switch!reader I guess?, switch!Swiss, soft dom!Mountain, mean dom!Omega

🌙Swiss

Kinky. We know this. He’s willing to try just about anything you’re comfortable with.

His personal favourite kinky things include bondage, spanking, gags, some dynamic play, marking and a sprinkle of dacryphilia.

He’s such a power switch and I will not listen to anyone who disagrees. Sometimes he wants to dick you down and sometimes he wants to be dicked down. Is that too much to ask for?

REALLY FUCKING LOUD. If you’re making him feel good he’s letting everyone know.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck~ baby if you don’t slow down I’ll cum- fuck!”

Has absolutely no shame walking around covered in hickeys, bite marks and scratches.

Swiss gets unbelievably horny when you touch his horns, like something in him snaps when you touch them.

Prefers cumming on you rather than inside you, like you’re a canvas and he’s the painter.

Don’t bully him he’ll cum :(

Nah but seriously, if you call him a slut at least once and pull his hair he’ll absolutely melt.

🌙Rain

Pretty vanilla compared to Swiss, but has his kinky moments.

Prefers sex to be romantic, so expect lots of kisses and hand holding.

Speaking of hand holding, he squeezes your hand when he cums. He just loves you so much and you’re making him feel so good.

Has cried on one or more occasions. It could be because he’s so in love or maybe because he just has a really sensitive cock-

Absolutely adores fucking in the shower or even outside in the rain. He loves it when you two are both in tune with his element and it just makes him feel safe being in water.

Doesn’t let out pornographic moans but rather soft gasps and grunts and if you’re really fucking him good then he’ll start whimpering the closer he gets to cumming.

Speaking of cum, he loves cumming in you and just having you cockwarm him (or the other way around). He also moans an “I love you” when he does so.

“I love you so much darling- oh satan.”

Always looks so goddamn pretty when he’s all fucked out and exhausted.

🌙Mountain

My fav ghoul 💜

Gives me soft dom vibes, but not crazy on kink or bdsm.

He’s fucking huge and uses it to his advantage.

Likes watching you squirm when taking him. The bastard will just watch you struggle as you try to fit all of his length in you while he just sits there doing fuck all.

Loves watching you ride him. If you have tits he’s automatically hypnotised by then jiggling as you bounce on his cock.

If you get too tired or overstimulated to keep riding him he’ll instantly flip you over so he’s on top of you and he’ll just pound into you at whatever pace you need.

Mostly grunts when you two are fucking, but he isn’t shy about moaning in your ear when he cums.

So much praise. Like a fuck ton of it.

“Look at you, taking me so well. You’re doing such a good job.

If you’re ever stressed he’ll instantly suggest a solution that involves his face buried between your thighs for the next hour or so.

Endless cuddles when you two are finished. He’ll have you wrapped in his arms until you’ve fallen asleep.

🌙Omega

Good LORD those fingers.

Mean dom. So mean :( (but very rewarding when he thinks you’ve been on your best behaviour)

I reckon he’s pretty well versed in the bdsm and kink world. Maybe even to the point where bdsm is part of his actual lifestyle outside of sex.

Fucks you absolutely silly and then mocks you when you’re too overstimulated to say a full coherent sentence.

If he’s feeling too lazy to actually fuck you or he’s busy he’ll beckon you over to him and have you sit on his lap while he fingers you into oblivion or jacks you off until you’re shooting blanks.

Goes feral when you moan his name, or just say anything along the lines of you belonging to him.

Cums where he wants, as long as you’re comfortable with it.

Not incredibly loud unless you’re sucking him off, then he’s getting a little slutty because he knows how turned on it gets you.

“Oh yeah~ use your tongue just like that darling. Fuck .”

He LOVES bending you over and pounding into you until you’re crying. He’ll even give your ass the occasional slap and moan an “atta girl/boy”.

🌙Sodo

Every time you moan his full name “Sodomiser” he instantly starts panting like a fucking dog.

Gets progressively hornier the more you feed his ego.

Likes nipping at your neck and wrapping his tail around your thigh when you’re fucking.

He tries stay quiet but ultimately ends up a whimpering mess when he cums. He doesn’t even have to be subbing, he just kinda whimpers regardless 🤷‍♀️

I feel like if you were about to suck him off he’d lightly slap you in the face with his dick because he thinks it’s hot 😭

Let you use a vibrator on him one time and he came so hard he was scared to let you use it on him again. He uses it on himself occasionally though.

“Nonono wait don’t turn it up I’ll- ngh~”

Like Swiss he loves cumming on you, bonus points if it’s your chest, ass or face.

One time you pulled his tail during sex and he let out such a load and sinful moan you had to pause before going back to fucking and then teasing him because of it.

🌙Aether

He’s hot and he knows it, the cheeky bastard.

Likes it when you caress his muscles. Fair enough though, if I was that buff I’d want everyone to touch my big strong biceps-

He loves just randomly picking you up and manhandling you.

If you’re a pillow princess or prince you’re in luck because he’ll do all of the work as long as he gets to hear you whimper his name and look at your pretty face.

His favourite thing to do is to buy you lingerie and the rip it off hours later. Sometimes if he’s feeling a bit silly n goofy he’ll buy it one or two sizes too small so he gets to see your tits and/or ass spill out.

Prefers cumming in you but doesn’t mind, as long as you’re satisfied.

Can and will fuck you standing up and it’s very scary because WHO THE FUCK HAS SEX STANDING-

He’s mostly quiet, but still very verbal if that makes sense. He moans a lil and also lets out these like sighs? Idk how to explain it but just know he’s enjoying himself 😭.

“Mm you look so- fuck, good like this.”

🌙Phantom

He’s like a very excited puppy when it comes to sex. Probably would be into puppy play too tbh.

Very easy to overstimulate. Just go for a second or third round with some edging thrown in and he’s putty in your hands.

He whines, moans, whimpers, cries, you name it.

“Please, I’ll be good, I just need to cum, please.”

Doesn’t understand his size or strength sometimes. You couldn’t convince him he had a massive dick until one time when you were riding him you put his hand to your stomach where he could literally feel himself moving inside you.

Doesn’t mind whatsoever where he has to cum, just as long as he actually gets to.

He has the most sensitive tail and horns ever it’s not even funny. He could probably cum untouched if you played with them enough.

Bites a fucking lot, like damn boy calm down.

Needs praise or he might go a little coocoo.

🌙Ifrit

This man is a SWITCH WITH A BREEDING KINK.

So obviously he loves cumming in you.

Gets so unbelievably worked up when he smells you.

Likes fucking you while your in his lap, like something similar to the lotus. He needs to be close to you.

(Afab hc) for some reason he can tell when you’re ovulating and it just sends him spiralling. He’s practically on his knees rutting into the floor and begging you to let him fuck you.

This when he gets the most vocal.

“Please let me fuck a baby into you. Mm~ I’ll do anything”

Bites hard. Like it’s a problem.

(Half afab) Insists on carrying you everywhere once you two are finished. His reasoning is because he might’ve hurt your silly little human body with his massive ghoul dick (his words not mine) and because you might be pregnant!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

That's all, thanks for reading my lovelies!

#x reader #the band ghost #sodomizer #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #omega ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #sodo x reader #mountain x reader #aether x reader #omega x reader #rain x reader #swiss x reader #phantom x reader #ifrit ghoul #ifrit x reader

830 notes · View notes

paimonial-rage · 1 year

Text

cocky bastard vibes - zhongli

ship: zhongli x reader

synopsis: in which reader shares their free thoughts on the liyue statue of seven

notes: standalone snippet part of the bookkeeping!verse

It was a beautiful day in Liyue. The grass was a luscious green and the birds were singing a beautiful song. After a nice stay at the Emerald Maple Inn, you and Mr. Zhongli decided to have a cup of tea next to the Statue of the Seven before heading on your way to Qingce Village. You were to accompany him to pick up supplies for the next funeral rite, and with the way the morning was going, you knew nothing would ruin this peaceful day.

"So how much do you want to bet that Rex Lapis was hot and knew it?”

You ignored the choked sound that came from your side as you gazed up at the picturesque statue. Though your companion would probably consider your question quite out of the blue, you couldn’t say it was the first time you wondered such a thing. Whenever you passed by one of them in Liyue, the thought always plagued your mind for a few hours after. Judging by Mr. Zhongli’s reaction, though, it seemed he did not share your sentiments.

"Ehem… That… certainly is an interesting thought. I can’t say whether or not previous records touched on such a topic."

You hummed, gazing up at the statue. Really? That couldn’t be true. Why wouldn’t anyone talk about a statue looking like that?

“Well there are many reasons why I’d say I’m right. First off, his outfit. He has a hooded cloak on while also being shirtless. There’s absolutely no logical reason to dress like that unless they’re from the deserts of Sumeru, wouldn’t you say? It obviously was a conscious fashion decision. If you pair that with the seductive way he’s sitting, I’d be inclined to assume he’s quite clearly feeling his look.”

Silence came from your side. Hm, Mr. Zhongli still wasn’t convinced? Then you would go on.

“You do see it, right? His posture is relaxed, yet confident. Not to mention the way he’s looking at that cube in his hand with practically bedroom eyes. His knees are apart too. My friend from Sumeru told me that when a man sits like that, he’s displaying his dominance.”

Still silence.

"You can't sit in a seductive pose like that without on some level being aware you look good doing it. I mean look at him! He's shirtless and everything! I've heard even macho fishermen say that they pray to the statue for a good night before coming home to see their wives. You can’t blame them, right?"

A hesitant cough.

"I-I'm sure it was a younger time when those statues were sculpted."

You groaned.

"Maybe, but you’re not even looking! If you did, you’d agree with me that Rex Lapis is clearly exuding such massive 'cocky bastard' vibes!" You countered.

For some reason, the more you spoke, the more flustered he became.

"C'mon, Mr. Zhongli! Why are you so embarrassed? It's not like I'm slandering his good name! I mean, if Rex Lapis didn't want us talking about him like this, maybe he shouldn't have made a statue with abs clean enough to eat off of!"

Okay, maybe at this point, you were piling it on a bit thick. Could anyone blame you? His face was in his hand as if he had a headache, and were his ears tinged the slightest hint of red? It was an interesting sight. Never had you seen him look so completely flustered. Sure you were rather blunt, but you didn't think your words were that provocative. Mr. Zhongli really was practically a 65 year old man.

"I thought you respected the Geo Archon…" He muttered weakly.

You gasped in offense.

"I do! I’d even consider my words the utmost of pious behavior. In Mondstadt, the sisters of the church consider themselves married to Barbatos, the Anemo Archon. So finding the Geo Archon to be a sex god is pretty much the same thing, right?”

“No, it is not.”

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #in which the author converts their first thought upon seeing the liyue statue of seven into written verse #like legit why he sit like that tho #like i’m not the only one right?#why is he sitting like he wants to seduce someone #there’s no logical reason anyone would sit like that unless they thought they looked damn sexy doing so #also if it isn’t clear reader is purposefully laying it on thick through this whole thing #it’s their turn to be amused they deserve it #he’s put them through enough #this is the dumbest thing i’ve ever written but i’m also not sorry #this is my magnum opus not the fischl one uwu #milk u made me finish this how dare you #bookkeeping!verse

2K notes · View notes

moonsaver · 3 months

Note

do you have any nsfw hc thoughts for ratio?

also, i believe you could definitely deliver an amazing royal au series, im totally sat for it!

Hello, thank you anon! Im still figuring things out on the royal au, haha. I might need to modify my writing style for it? But im not so sure. Hope it'll go well once I'm done, though.

Nsfw below the cut!

Dr. Ratio isn't someone who's an absolute brute, or a rough-sex freak in my opinion. He has a fair balance between rough and fast paced, and sensual, slow lovemaking.

Id say he's into overstimulation, edging, degradation, and a tad bit of dumbification.

Normally, I'd say he's into tying you down. Silk ropes are his favorite go-to. He usually does it before a shared bathtime, massaging products into your body acting as foreplay before bathing together. He teases you so much, hands slowly massaging your boobs as you shudder, his thumb rubbing your tits glistening with the product, eyeing the twitching of your body.. his hands work effortlessly into massaging and relaxing your body, squeezing and rubbing your butt, thighs, and clicking his tongue in faux irritation as he sees your arousal drip, fingers only edging and massaging the oil or lotion around your lips, eyes fixed onto your eager little clit. Stay still, for goodness' sake, he says.

Fingering is also a part of foreplay. His fingers are a bit rough, despite how often he uses skincare, and they provide extra friction whenever he's scissoring your cunt relentlessly. He taunts you just how eagerly you're sucking up his fingers, thumb massaging your swollen clit, as his eyebrows furrow in concentration. He's a bit sloppy, but fast and slightly rough, hitting every sensitive spot inside of you perfectly. Doesn't stop even after you've come, you can babble and cry for all he cares.

As for penetration – he's averagely sized, but girthy. His cum is also kind of thick, slightly creamy, and has a note of saltiness. He stretches you out well, groaning a bit into your ear when you eagerly welcome him. Likes coming inside of you. Especially when he's rough, immediately pulls out the moment he cums and finger-fucks it back into your cunt, clicking his tongue when it keeps spilling out of you, and decides it's better to just fuck another batch into your swollen cunt, telling you to stay quiet and just take it.

Not a fan of oral receiving – as much of a turn off as it sounds, he's probably versed in reproductive biology and doesn't quite like the idea of you swallowing his cum, and neither does he really feel comfortable with him in your mouth.

Giving however, is welcomed an average amount. He teases and edges you so much it drives you insane. He keeps you tied down, as mentioned before, and his fingers drag along your slit, watching your thighs twitch and hips buck, frustration and desperation building inside of you. At some point, he uses it as an excuse to just overstimulate you. Fine, you want him that badly? He'll eat you out until you can't think like you wanted him to. And does exactly that. Leaves you an incoherent mess, your slick dripping down his chin, spread on the inside of your thighs.

Not too noisy in bed. A few grunts here and there, heavy, husky breathing, and groans whenever he comes inside, and his general dirty talk. He would prefer you to be a bit vocal, though. He does want to hear how good he's making you feel, and he feels proud whenever he makes you moan loudly, especially if you're on the quieter end.

Aftercare is soft. He kisses your shoulder, neck, and gently settles you into the bath. Makes small talk with you, and has you relax against his chest, one hand rubbing any part of your body that might be sore, and filling the noise by talking about one or the other thing.

200 notes · View notes

toji-girl · 3 months

Text

Heavy Is The Head That Wears The Crown | k. bakugo

synopsis: Being the Princess meant you were arranged to marry Prince Ito of the conjoining island for the sake of the kingdom, but the last thing you want is to marry someone you don’t love, and your other suitor isn’t someone your parents approve, but how can anyone stop true love from blooming?

wc: 6.9k

tags: 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + fem reader + not beta read + repost from my old blog + slow burn + no quirks au + forbidden love + talks about running away and doing it + I’m not well versed in the royal au but I did read up on it + enemies to lovers au but l kinda skip that + prince Ito is an OC I just came up with and he’s an ass and is misogynistic + fem pet names + virginity loss for both parties + explicit smut + fingering + unprotected sex + creampie + oral both for you and Katsuki + teasing + fluffy smut + cum eating + slight dirty talking + blood because of v loss + finger sucking + praising + breast/nipple play + Katsuki is soft and maybe ooc + overstim + I think that’s all! + again lmk any missing tag(s)!

Boring and stuffy is exactly how you would describe the scene unfolding in front of you, your parent’s ballroom is chock-full of pretentious people who fall in line with your mother and father.

The pair you despise because while you’re their daughter they have never looked at you like that before, it was always: what can you do to make their lives better? Never the other way around.

Thoughts of your childhood disappeared like a bubble being popped when you heard someone clear their throat, you turned to look who it was, an insult dripping off your tongue when you came face to face with Prince Ito, the man you were set to marry to better the Kingdom and knew it was best to keep your mouth shut.

You wanted to bite your lip, not in a sexy way either, but one that showed you were on your last nerve. He looked at you with confusion clouding his eyes and a slight smirk as to say ‘You’re stuck with me’ as his hand slipped into yours.

“We’re supposed to be getting married, so well to remember that my dear.”

Oh, how you wanted to regurgitate your dinner all over his shoes. Your eyes drifted around the packed room in an effort to ignore him, everyone was dressed in suffocating clothes, even you.

It felt like hell, the temperature of what felt like flames licking the cream-colored walls, bits of gold and warm tones drowned out everything but the piano music in the corner.

The feeling of so many bodies also added to the hellish feeling, and the damn dress you had to wear was so tight you were sure your ribs were cracking with each inhale.

That even grated your already fried nerves feeling your soon-to-be husband pulling you closer, instantly you pulled away catching the gaze of your other courtship, the forbidden man you kept close to your heart.

Katsuki Bakugo, the man that deep down in every crevice of your heart is your soulmate, you just haven’t told him yet, it was a delicate matter at hand truly.

You looked at the brown-haired man and suppressed an eye roll, his eyes roamed your body greedily no doubt wondering just when he got to rip your dress off.

He was someone your parents chose, someone who thought he was king shit of turd island, that made you smile at the mental joke. “Ready to dance?” He asked.

Again you glanced over toward Katsuki’s direction not seeing him anymore, you hummed in disappointment sweeping the room and not seeing him still but you remembered what he looked like, you always would no matter what.

Tonight he donned a dark gray suit, notes of red and dark green peeked out between the contrast of the three colors, it hugged him well, not like a second skin but enough to show off the muscles he worked hard for and the scars that littered his body.

His blonde hair was a mess as always, pieces of it always stuck up like he was in a strong wind tunnel, another thing that made you break out in a grin, the man next to you cleared his throat clearing growing irritated with you ignoring him.

“We need to show to our parents that we’re a right fit, you-”

You turned on your heel wanting to stomp on his foot but instead, you forced a smile and nodded, knowing that if you had to open your mouth insults would just fly out instead, his hand was so sweaty it made you feel gross to even hold.

Prince Ito made his way through the people that instantly parted letting you two through, he really wasn’t a prince to you anyway, just another whiny man-child whose family came from the other island that was situated next to your parents. The land didn’t belong to them, or anyone really in your opinion.

But it didn’t matter, you were a good they could trade to better their lives, your life was at stake pretty much, honestly, at times you felt no better than the hard pieces of bread that the island’s trade, one has more fruits and grains than the other and the Ito island has oil and the vegetables, so a lot of trading was done.

Even your own life was something that was traded, your family could produce an heir for his family, and yours and his parents were like yours, however, you and your wanna-be husband felt very different about that. He basked in the glow of being the only child, his pompous attitude made you ill and your eyes roll.

“What has your attention my sugarplum?” Ito asked as he tugged you to the middle of the floor, bodies made their way to the side to let you both dance, his hand clasped yours never letting go, his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist keeping you pinned against him.

The use of the nickname was enough to make you visibly roll your eyes this time catching him off guard. If anything, you both need to keep a clean image, not a princess who would roll her eyes and defies the man. “Sorry, and nothing does. I’m just getting a bit famished.”

“Well, in that case, I have a stick of meat that could fill you.” His hands slid down to your ass cupping the flesh, or well what he thought it was, most of it was your damn dress that he bunched up making you very uncomfortable.

Your lips curled in disgust, and your free hand came to stop on his chest pushing him away to get some fresh air, and not his rancid breath filling your nostrils, it wasn’t awful smelling, it was the vibe you got from him that was musty and each time he opened his mouth it poured out.

Ito growled low in his throat, which was meant to come across as a warning of sorts but all it did was make you angrier, and just about as you were to say something you felt Katsuki step behind you, his scent instantly calming.

“I think the princess doesn’t want to dance with you anymore, Prince Handsy.” He muttered in a low tone that made you shiver.

It wasn’t a death threat which is something he throws out to anyone who inconveniences you, his fiery eyes never left the other man who stared back. It was a warning for now.

Before you or Ito could say anything, Katsuki removed you from his grip and out of the ballroom letting you melt against him, his back pressed against the wall as you all but tried to merge with him. “Thank you for that, he was getting on my nerves.”

“I could tell, sugarplum,” He teased with a smirk as he stared at you, the words on the tip of his tongue, the ones you so desperately wanted to spill like ink on paper, the both of you know that him being nothing but a royal guard for your family and you the princess it would never be approved.

But that didn’t stop you, Katsuki has been by your side since you were both children, you met him outside of the gates the one day you were able to slip away from the guards, at seven years old it wasn’t hard to fit it when you did get free.

Just as soon as you walked into the mouth of the town, with dusty cobbled roads and people milling about buying and trading goods, someone ran into you, a blonde boy around your age chasing two boys, one with red hair and the other with black and green hair.

Blondie was yelling at the two-toned boy, something about him being a loser or to that effect while swinging his toy sword around in triumph.

His lips curled almost in disgust when you approached them ready to join in, other children weren’t invited into the kingdom so the life you led thus far has been extremely lonely.

“We don’t play with girls.” Blondie snarled holding a wooden sword, his tattered clothes held a belt around his waist.

“I can tell, no need to be rude about it. Scared a girl is going to kick your butt?” You spit glaring at him as you grabbed the Red’s sword from his hands, his small mouth popping open staring at you getting into a fighting stance.

Red opened his mouth ready to say something before you drew the toy with a wide grin setting it against Blondie’s neck, his vermillion eyes swept over your whole body taking in your appearance, it was clear you belonged inside the gates and not out and Katsuki knew.

“No, I’m not, but you need to scram princess before you get hurt.”

Both of you were caught in a stare-off, everything around you melted away as you took in his appearance, dirt streaked through his hair and on his cheeks, it was just as clear that he was a family that lived far away from the castle gates, and that made you angry.

Not at him, but at your parents and all the adults who think this is okay, something you really can’t fight about now but now with the judging stare from Blondie it made you angrier, just as you opened your mouth to say something you were picked up and escorted back home.

The Queen made sure her servants scolded you instead, but all they did was make sure you were washed up and ready to go in the morning for some type of benefit the King threw.

Then a year later little Blondie came into the kingdom after losing his village and was raised as a royal guard, mostly to you due to how close you two were in age.

Now that you and Katsuki are in your mid-twenties the tension of being enemies melted away, but not all of it. Sometimes you two still nipped at each other.

But right now all you could focus on was being with Katsuki like this, his arms wrapped around your waist letting you sag against him. “I really don’t want to marry him, he’s no better than the cow pies in the fields.”

“Cow pies? You mean shit. Prince Idiot is pure flaming hot-”

You slapped your hand over his mouth hearing footsteps down the hall, fear wrapped around your spine like a frozen hand. No doubt it was the other guards, the ones who were under your parent’s thumb, unlike the man you were pressed against right now staring at you intently.

Do you understand that Katsuki would run away with you? He’d never let you go without, even though it won’t be in the kingdom he still wanted to care for you. He could hear the hushed tones of the men, your name making you curl more into him scared they’ll find you.

He wanted nothing more than to grab their heads and knock them together, anything that caused you stress weighed on him too, a much different person he’s become Katsuki thought as his fingers curled in your dress kissing your forehead. “Shh.” He told you before stepping out of the shadows.

“She isn’t over in this area, I thought I saw her but it was a dead lead,” Katsuki told them, his voice never wavered or showed he was lying, you watched him drinking him in, the way he all but towered over a lot of people including you, tall and just there. He’s the best guard to have.

One guard nodded while the others looked at him with curious looks, of course, it wasn’t a secret but to you and Katsuki that you two were madly in love, everyone could tell, however, it was still not seen by each other for some reason you were both blinded by it.

Once they turned and left back to the ballroom to report to your parents you stepped out of the shadows to envelop Katsuki in a tight hug, his arms quickly wrapped around you not really wanting to let go just yet, you both stood there in the large hallway in a warm embrace.

He smelt like warmth and spices, along with an earthy undertone that made you want to run away with him to the forest, the both of you could easily make a home and you would do it in a heartbeat, Katsuki means way too much to you to let go, you buried your face in him before stepping away looking at him, the charged gaze made you almost beg for a kiss.

Instead, you slipped your hand in his and kissed his gloved-clad one. “I should get back, but I promise to see you later.” You left him with a kiss on the cheek before turning away feeling the sting of tears knowing he doesn’t see you the way you see him, he thinks of you like a sister or the annoying Princess he has to babysit.

Katsuki stood rooted in his place growing angry at himself, sure, he was brash and crude and had not a problem telling anyone off but when it came to his feelings he choked on them because he was terrified you’d laugh at him when he confessed. That’s something he’s not sure he would be able to handle.

He hasn’t even kissed anyone else, you’re literally his first for everything, and by kissing it’s just a peck on the forehead from him and you always leave a lipstick print on his cheek or sometimes you’ll hold his head and give him a forehead smooch.

You always left him with something, whether it is a hug, kiss, some type of gift or even just patting his hand there was always something that left him wondering about you during the night, sometimes he’d touch himself just like you do but that was a secret you’d both die with before telling each other or anyone else.

Thankfully, he was a few rooms down from you in case something happened and he can reach you, and it’s shocking that your parents would let him because they sense the relationship that has been blooming since childhood, but Katsuki is the only person who would protect you this fiercely.

With a great sigh, he entered the ballroom again, his stupid outfit made him itch all over, it wasn’t his usual uniform but a suit to make him blend in a bit better with the crowd, but everyone knew who he was, it was very obvious uniform or not.

Katsuki watched you with him, Ito’s arm around your waist keeping you flush against him, his other hand holding yours in a tight hold making sure you didn’t leave him, the possessive gesture made his blood boil, but he knew it wasn’t the right time to say anything or do something.

He wasn’t even sure if you felt the same way he did, so all Katsuki did was lean against the wall watching the other people dance, his red eyes swept over everyone keeping his gaze still on you mostly, it was clear you were uncomfortable.

Your eyebrows were pinched in the middle and your lips were in a thin line pressing them together, he knew you were irritated and not very happy about dancing with him this close, the asshole thought he knew you from head to toe.

Ito attempted to make a joke he heard when he came closer, the smell of your heavy perfume only worn by you made his stomach erupt with a million butterflies it felt like, their soft wings brushing against each other, if anyone else wore it, it made him sick.

Your eyes connected with his in a heated gaze looking at him with a soft smile, the look Ito caught on made him curl his fingers under your chin turning you to face him with a sick smile, his lips were cracked and you swore you smelt the evil from him.

“Why do you keep looking at everyone but me? I’m the only man you need to be staring at.”

Sickness crept up your throat as his eyes burned into yours with such intensity, there was something that made a chill rack your body, just when you opened your mouth to reply your Father interrupted.

“We need you two to come to the front please, it’s time to announce the marriage between him and you to the Kingdom.”

Your heart dropped all the way to your stomach, dread replaced everything you felt, and the reality of the situation is coming to a head, once that is announced what was happening you knew it would be harder to get out of, and if you left you’d be shunned from the Kingdom and your parents.

Ito smiled and squeezed your hand with a sicker grin, the gleam in his eyes reminded you of a demon that terrorized the village well before you were born but the pictures and stories that were passed down by each generation were fresh in your mind.

“Can you please give me a moment? I’d like to freshen up before we do anything.” You asked with a soft smile, it hurt to force it but thankfully neither Ito or your Father could tell, even when they watched you walk to Katsuki to ask him to walk you to your room.

Once you both were out of the ballroom and out of ear shop from people you slid your hand in his. “We’re leaving right now, my dad wants to announce the marriage between us and I can’t do it, I won’t. I refuse to end up miserable like my mom.”

Katsuki watched you with a smirk as he followed you to your room, after the door was shut you looked around taking it in once more, the room that has housed you for the past twenty-some years is now held so many memories.

It made your heart crack a bit, and tears stung your eyes but you buried that for a moment and packed a small basket you kept under your bed away from prying eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want?” Katsuki asked taking things he could sell.

There was no way in hell he was going to leave you alone and you knew that. “Yes, this is hell on earth and I don’t want to be a Queen, I can’t do what they do, and know what I know. When I first met you-” You stopped mid-sentence and sighed.

He sat on the edge of your bed watching you intently, his lips pressed in a thin line like yours were earlier, you knew he was chewing on his next sentence holding the things in his bag that sat in his lap before helping you pack the nightgowns.

All your other dresses wouldn’t fit in and the last thing you want is to wear them anymore, now it is time for you to live your life. The way you want to, and it wouldn’t matter if you tried to set new rules, they would be overruled by King Ito.

The thought of what was to come made you shiver. “Thank you, Kats, I really do appreciate what you’re doing.” You told him finishing up your packing.

“Don’t thank me and don’t call me that, I told you that before.” He grumbled standing up, but you knew he was joking a bit, his nickname as a kid made him think about the way he feels about you, and now is not the time.

Quickly you both finished up and got everything ready, briefly Katsuki wondered why anyone hasn’t come to get you yet but they think he’s helping you.

Oh, is he really helping you with everything you need. He peeked his head out of your door turning his head side to side and sweeping the empty halls, he strained to listen for footsteps.

Silence only greeted him, giving you both one minute to sneak down to the door that led outside from the lower level, it was a secret you discovered years ago.

Katsuki held your hand tight leading you down the flight of steps, momentarily pressing yourselves against the wall hearing voices carry down the stone hall.

“Make sure to stay hidden.” He reminded you giving your hand a light squeeze while glancing back at you, quickly you fixed the silk around your head covering most of your face up.

You nodded staying silent but only to take a deep breath in when you stepped outside, the sun instantly warmed you up, and the free feeling you got only amplified.

“Go look for her!” Both of you heard a voice cry out, thankfully now under the bridge so no one could see you watching a few guards and your mom and dad, then of course, Ito was standing in front of everyone with his arms crossed over his chest looking like an angry child.

You giggled a bit catching Katsuki’s attention who looked over at you with furrowed eyebrows, his hand coming up to muffle your laughter at the supposed man who you were set to marry, his face screwed up and red as he sputtered out more threats and demanded they find you.

After you removed his hand away from his mouth you turned around to face the wall, looking behind your shoulder at him, the way your lips parted made his cock twitch in his pants as you smiled softly. “Please unlace this, I am dying and I can’t breathe in this stupid thing.”

Katsuki stepped closer to you, his gloved fingers untying the silk watching you inhale deeply, the charged air around you two crackled with sensual and high tension, he could smell your sweet shampoo and you, his musk, how bad you wanted to turn, and kiss him sat in your stomach like a rock.

“Thanks, Kats, I appreciate you and this too.” His mouth was open ready to snap at you until you turned around to stare at him, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes with a sad smile, and he thought it was because you were going to miss your family, but that was the least of your worries.

He opened his arms letting you settle in them melting against him. “You’re my favorite pain in the ass, you know?” Katsuki said looking at you, fire dancing in his vermillion eyes.

“I hope I’m the only pain in your ass, otherwise what would be the point?” You asked in a teasing tone batting your heavy lashes and hearing the people fade away from the bridge, most likely going back to check the castle again, the sad look you held now faded.

An hour later you both didn’t hear anything, not even people walking over the bridge, Katsuki told you to wait there while he checked, thankfully no one was around when he helped you up the grassy cliff and quickly drag you to the edge of the forest, the sun setting cast a shadow over you both.

“I found a small house when I was exploring and over the last few months I made sure to add some fire logs and clean it up for us,” Katsuki told you getting past the mouth of trees, it was a plan set in stone the moment you turned ten, the age you were told about marrying Ito.

Hand in hand you walked close to him using him for warmth and comfort glancing around the bare trees, it was beginning to get cooler and the trees were now losing their buds, the warm air becoming rigid. “This is why you’re my favorite pain in the ass.”

Katsuki chuckled and rolled his eyes huffing a bit at the compliment, he stayed silent the entire walk never letting go of your hand as he led you to the small house, more like a cabin that has been sitting there unoccupied until now, thankfully he cleaned all the spiderwebs and stuff up.

The sun dipped almost to the horizon by the time you both reached the front door, sweat beaded along your nape watching Katsuki toe the heavy wood open letting you in first taking in your new living situation, everything was in the big square, minus the bathroom thankfully.

A huge bay window faced the back of the house giving you a clear view of the tall trees, you dropped the bag and began to undress yourself down to the thin slip you wore under all the layers before sitting on the creaky bed, the springs groaning under your weight.

Katsuki watched you with heated eyes, it was not the time to pop a boner but it couldn’t be helped seeing you flop on your back, the bottom hem of your dress rolling up to your mid-thigh. “This is so much better than that castle, it was so stuffy and miserable there, the ghosts haunting us.” You murmured out loud staring up at the wooden ceiling noting the decay.

“You really still think ghosts roamed those halls?” He asked kicking his heavy boots off before moving to the fireplace and setting it up, the fire crackling instantly warming up the small room Katsuki sat in front of it removing his gloves and hearing the bed creak as you rolled to your side.

“Yep,” You popped the p and sat up crossing your legs, “I sure do, you’ve heard all the stories they told us and everything that’s been going on, all of the people who lived there I believe are condemned to stay there forever, why should their souls rest when they put our people through hell? I can’t be the Queen for that reason, let alone Ito’s wife.”

You spit venom saying his name, the feeling of his creepy stare and his hands made you ill thinking about it. “I understand, and you’re-” Katsuki cut off swallowing his tongue, the confession almost spilled from his lips.

“I’m what?” You asked getting off the bed to walk over to him crouching down next to him, your head laying on his back before wrapping your arms around him, the feeling of your touch made his heart jump to his throat.

“Nothing, you need a bath though. You stink.” He murmured changing the topic and lucky for him it worked this time, you giggled and smacked his shoulder gently knowing standing up and grabbing your basket of clothes and washes.

Katsuki joined you pulling his gloves back on before opening the door and holding his hand out for you, it was an unspoken agreement just in case something happens and he feels better knowing he can protect you if something happens.

Thankfully it was only a short walk to the clear creek that ran between several trees packed together, the cool wind bit at you but it felt nice being in the cramped room, and you knew your nipples were pebbled and rubbing against your silk slip, the moonlight was perfect this evening giving him a clear view of you.

Katsuki did everything not to look, he doesn’t want to think of himself as someone like Ito knowing he would stare without a care in the world. “Are you just going to watch?” You asked with a sly smile setting the woven basket down and watching him turn his back to you shaking his head.

“No, I’m not a creep. Just hurry up woman.” He mumbled crossing his arms over his chest and listening to you slip into the cold water, you gasped at the sensation and splashed around the water once you got used to it.

Katsuki never once turned to look, even though his heart was beating a bit too fast for him and the fact that his dick had a mind of its own getting hard, the tip leaky and sticky in his pants made it uncomfortable and shameful. Being a virgin at this age was embarrassing enough.

He wanted to palm himself in the worst way possible, it was difficult not to, especially when he glanced back at the same time you came back up breaking the water’s surface, your skin bare to his eyes feasting on you, water dripped down your face like it was his favorite wet dream.

“Are you watching your best friend bathe? You little pervert.” You teased splashing water over the muddy sides of the creek with a smirk, it warmed you more than anything knowing he wanted to stare, you could read him like an open book now and the thought of him liking you more than friends was enough to get out and dry off then get dressed.

Katsuki ignored you and your antics knowing if he spoke it would come out hoarse, thick with desire then he felt your hand slide in his before walking back to the house, the moon high and bright giving you both plenty of light to guide you both back where he locked every window up.

Once you were warmed up and dried off you slid in the bed with Katsuki watching him sit on the side, his ass almost hanging off while he was still fully dressed, boots including. “Are you going to sleep in your clothes? You’re wearing leather and it doesn’t look comfortable.”

“I’m fine,” He mumbled causing you to frown, he went rigid feeling you crawl over to him kneeling behind him, your fingers dancing over his broad shoulders as you leaned in kissing his cheek and shaking your head.

“Don’t be scared, it’s not like I haven’t seen you almost naked anyway.” You murmured in a teasing voice, your lips pressed against the shell, and while you couldn’t see the goosebumps raising over him you knew they were by the way he shivered.

Katsuki growled softly when your fingers slid down his chest now pressing your chest against his back, his hands coming up to yours stopping them. “I-” His voice was strained as he stayed still looking down at the floor.

It’s now or never you thought feeling warmth trickle through you. “I love you Katsuki, so much, I harbored these feelings for long enough now I think and you helped me through everything. We fought at times and got on each other’s nerves but I don’t want anyone but you.”

He turned his head to stare at you, his own words dying on his tongue and instead of speaking them Katsuki leaned in and kissed you, his lips sought yours in a tender meeting that slowly grew needy until you were seated in his lap, your tongues tangled together now.

It was sloppy with your arms wrapped around his neck, the bottom hem of your slip rolled up to your thighs as you grabbed his left wrist holding his hand to your swollen lips staring at him with lust-blown pupils bitting down on the leather removing his glove before moving to the other one.

Katsuki thought his dick was going to explode right then and there feeling the warmth of your bare pussy soaking into his pants, your eyes trained on his and half-lidded as you leaned back in to kiss him again swiping your tongue between his lips before pecking them several times.

“I’m a virgin.” You whispered against his lips. Now he was sure it would explode. Your confession set his heart on fire, he was sure this was your first kiss just like him, the both of you took the time to explore each other’s bodies, first, you removed his gloves then his leather jacket and shirt running your open palms over his chest and stomach.

Katsuki laid on his back letting you straddle him, his own fingers tracing up and down your arms eliciting goosebumps as he pulled the straps of your dress down baring your breasts to him, the fire crackled in the background but you still heard him suck in a deep breath as he cupped the flesh.

He palmed them at first before running his hands up and down your sides, then back to your breasts and shoulders, everywhere he touched left a trail of fire and desire, needy you leaned down kissing him again letting him hold your hips tightly grinding you against him.

“I’ve always thought about this Kats, you’re much better than my dreams.” You whispered in his ear trailing kisses all over his face and neck that you littered with love bites, he stared at you with pink cheeks as he huffed before quickly flipping you to your back.

He grunted in response settling himself between your spread legs. “Lift that pretty ass of yours up.” You were quick to listen lifting your hips and butt up watching him shimmy off your slip, his vermillion eyes feasted upon your naked form just as you did the same thing.

Katsuki had no idea what to do, his first action was kissing your thighs nibbling a bit, he listened to your moans and pleas and how you fisted the sheet wanting him to kiss you where it really mattered. His tongue lolled out once he was face to face with your slick pussy.

He inhaled your musk deeply making sure to ingrain it inside him, he wanted to devour you, the woman who put the sun and moons in the sky for him, the only person who understand the broken part of him, you always saw him as who he is and never what he pretended to be.

Your fingers curled in his blonde locks when he licked a wide stripe up your pussy from your fluttering hole all the way up to your clit which he sucked in at first before swirling the tip of his tongue around the bud, he still wasn’t sure if this was okay but judging from your sounds it was.

Never has anyone told him how to please a woman or anything, but you were such a good teacher, and letting him explore, he pulled away spreading you open. “Ow! Not so rough!” You mewled when he did it a bit too much.

“Sorry, I’m a virgin too.” He admitted watching you sit up, your eyes filled with hot need, the thought of him giving you something so special caused your heart to swell in your throat, you leaned down and kissed his head before laying back again.

He continued gaining the courage to rub at your clit, at first he rubbed your left lower labia before letting you move his fingers to the throbbing bud moaning his name over and over until he slowly slid his fingertip inside you. “Holy shit.” Katsuki groaned feeling you tight around him.

Every piece of you filled the missing pieces of him, all the cracks in his heart you filled with your own love, one of the many things he loved about you, and oh how it grew over the years once you two were over the bickering and knew it was better to get along.

Now his heart beat just for you, nothing else mattered really to him but to protect you, and his goal was to make sure you didn’t marry Ito and now here you are under him moaning his name fucking yourself back on fingers and humping his mouth.

It didn’t take him long thankfully in figuring out what you liked and how to make you feel good, his tongue buried in your cunt sucking and licking away the mess you made from the first orgasm that he talked you through. “So good, keep coming for me, sweetheart.”

Katsuki ground his own hips against the bed fucking the blanket wanting to desperately feel you around him, he just didn’t want to cause you any more pain, he pulled away smelling the heavy sex in the air along with the damp earth undertones.

He looked down at you with the moonlight washing over him from the bare windows, the fire behind him cast a glow making it look like he was a king and he was, he’s your King. “Katsuki, please, I need you.” You begged with a hoarse voice from the moaning and whimpering.

Quickly he pulled his fingers out sliding his hand up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts. “Part those pretty lips for me.” He demanded in a gentle tone watching your lips open, his fingers pressed in on your tongue.

Closing your lips around him you held his wrist sucking his fingers clean never breaking his stare while grinding your pussy against his throbbing cock coating the length of him with your slick feeling the tip barely grazing your fluttering hole with a soft sigh.

“Katsuki - please I wanna taste your dick.” The lewd words spilled from your mouth when he removed his fingers with a groan quickly sitting on his ass and spreading his legs watching you scramble to kneel between his thighs rubbing them.

He watched you bend at the waist to kiss and lick the head tasting the salty pre-cum, your fingers wrapped around the base giving it experimental jerks of your wrist glancing up at him, his eyes screwed shut, your mouth and hand much better his own palm and thoughts.

“You look so pretty with my dick like this, I love how you taste too. I-I love you.” Katsuki admitted in a rush of words, he stared at you afraid of your next reaction.

“I would die for you. Kill for you, do anything you asked me to if you found peace or pleasure or whatever else from it. Please, please, let me burn the world around us for you, I never want to leave this place unless it’s with you, you’re my home and heart.” You whispered your own confession.

Katsuki pushed you on your back again covering his body with yours pressing your legs back and open seeking your mouth in a hot and deep kiss moving his hands to hold yours, fingers intertwining together. “The only peace and pleasure I get are from staring at you, being in your presence is nothing better, all the finest gold in the world has nothing against you.”

His words swirled in your head as he slowly slid the head of his cock inside you feeling you tighten around him at first trying to push him out, you whined softly wrapping your arms around his neck. “Take me, I know you can, this pussy is mine now and my dick is all for you, so take it the way you were meant to princess.”

“Oh my, Katsuki!” You yelped when he pushed deeper until he was halfway in he pulled out seeing a thin sheen of blood, the guilt ate at him but feeling you tug on his neck which pulled him away from his thoughts.

“I’m ok, please don’t stop.” You murmured kissing his jaw with soft kisses as you ground your hips seeking more of him, Katsuki bared his teeth at how tight and wet you were when he bottomed out with a low growl in his throat.

He stayed still letting you adjust to him, stars burst behind your eyes giving him the last piece of your soul. “I love you Katsuki Bakugo.” You whispered kissing him again in a silent way to tell him it was okay to move.

Katsuki rocked his hips against yours going slow while reaching his hand down between your bodies to rub at your clit feeling you tighten around him with a loud moan. “I love how your pussy molds to me, told you we were meant to be.” He groaned in your ear picking up the pace.

Pleasure clouded all thoughts as you ground your hips against him when his mouth latched on your nipple sucking it deep in his mouth fucking you harder now, the only thing you could feel was him, not the warmth from the fire, not the sheets under you or anything else.

Katsuki has now totally invaded you and everything else, but it was a mutual feeling, the way he kissed every inch of skin while making love to you now, his praises melted and dripped down to the pool of hot desire in your stomach.

“You will have my last name someday, maybe even soon. Now we can be together, forever.” His forehead rested against yours before he pulled away and out helping you to your hands and knees, the pillow was shoved aside as he slowly thrust back in feeling his orgasm bubble up.

His hands held your hips in a tight hold bottoming out, he kept a soft pace letting you bounce back against him chasing your own high, his balls tightened when you threw your head back staring at him moaning his name and quickly he came filling you up thick and warm.

He wasn’t done by any means, once you both came down from the highs he laid on the bed helping you straddle his lap and riding him while holding his hands and grinding your hips down before bouncing up and down and hearing the creaking of the bed fill the small room.

“Katsuki! You feel so good inside me!” You panted feeling sweat drip down your back while using his cum as lube to sit all the way up leaving just the tip in before slowly dropping back down finding his mouth in a hot kiss fucking him wildly.

Neither of you was sure how long it was before you both lay next to each other panting and sweating, his cock soft and aching as you rolled to your side curling against him with a soft smile and droopy eyes from exhaustion seeping in. “Let’s do that every night.”

Katsuki nodded in agreement knowing that you both were finally happy and free together, forever.

#tw: virginity loss #Katsuki smut #Katsuki x reader smut #katsuki bakugo smut #mha fanfiction #mha smut #katsuki x reader #Katsuki Bakugo smut #my hero katsuki smut #katsuki x yn smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x you smut #katsuki x y/n smut #mha x reader #mha katsuki smut

186 notes · View notes