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#so now I have to cram it all and it sucks
skitskatdacat63 · 8 months
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Every semester, I feel like my instant thought is always "I am dropping every class. They're all horrible." but by the end usually end up really liking it so I really just need to ignore my first impressions, but god looking at the syllabi really destroys my mental state
#yet i dont remember liking the first class i took for my one major and im not excited for it this time either 😐#even tho ive spent the most time around that prof cumulatively i still dont really think i like him all that much 😭😭😭#my department sucks because theres only 2 profs and the one sucks so bad that she has a 1 star review#and the other prof who i feel lukewarm about goes so far as to tell his students to avoid classes with her#so im really stuck between a rock and a hard place 😭😭😭#i think he just gets on my nerves too easily. and he was on the abroad trip i went on so i do feel like ive gotten closer#but like you know those people who the dynamic feels very one sided with? thats him for me. i think its just a cultural difference tho tbh#but otherwise i think my other classes will be fine :D#just feeling a bit 😧 rn bcs i have to make an introduction vid for my online class and I DONT WANNNAAAAAAAAAAA#also i miss all my profs from my prev semester :<#i think i talked about it on here but ahhhh my one linguistics prof she was so nice#but it haunts me bcs she asked if she could use one of my papers as an example paper in the future#and i was of course very honored....#BUT ALSO THE PAPER I WROTE USED F1 DRIVERS AS EXAMPLES LMAO#so im so glad that the first half of the 2023 season is now just a time capsule in that class#like literally a time capsule where you can exactly tell which era it was bcs i used Nyck as an example 🌚#well anyways wish me luck i hate starting things it's like trying to cram yourself into a new skin or something#and then when youre very pleased and comfortable with it all its then over :(#catie.rambling.txt
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tkbrokkoli · 5 months
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vent 😓
#not fandom related#personal log stardate#v pissed at one of my professors rn#not only are they doing their lectures in Boring Style the slides also look like shit. can't believe we have lectures on how to#give good presentations and how to properly design slides only for professora to not give a shit when they design their slides#ugliest layout I've ever seen it looks like it's from 2008 and they cram amounts of text on there#that would fit on 10 slides. also the crustiest images you've ever seen and then they don't evem translate the text in the picturea#*pictures#into English. the entire course is in English mind you and there are students who can't read the text#in the picture bc they don't speak the language#anyway. this is why i decided to skip the lectures bc they suck#after the lecture there's a seminar. v important. wouldn't miss that if i were you. has like. lab instructions and other important shit#anyway so today the professor decided to prepone the seminar w/o announcing that at all#like. as the lecture started they were like no lecture today only seminar and proceeded ro explain seminar stuff#i wasn't there bc i intended to skip the lecture and only attend the seminar#turns out i missed all the important information now :)#im so pissed. like. this would've been a 1 sentence email. dear students today the seminar will be preponed to 9 am. that's it#they didn't even manage that. like. when i used to work my boss and colleagues would've been pissed#and would've had every right to be if i had not stuck to my shift schedule#but this professor is just like. schedule? never heard of her. anyway this pissed me off sm that i stayed home to skip the whole day#which is on me. this is my bad coping method (and it frankly sucks ass lol) but the disrespect that professor showed today#like. there are ppl who actually care abt having a schedule. who maybe have to schedule their job around important lectures#or who only come to class for important lectures bc they commute for 2 hrs. and changing schedule w/o announcing it#is just a whole big fuck you to those ppl. my day is ruined so fqr but ill try to kick my ass to get back on track#also fuck this professor
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daenysthedreamersblog · 3 months
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ONLY ANGEL
she's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see
when it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets
and there's nothing she can do about it
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summary: you've been 'betrothed' to felix ravinstill since before he could remember, and as that official engagement day draws closer coriolanus is tired of pretending you don't belong to him
parings: academy!coriolanus snow x academy!reader
warnings: MDNI! swearing, mild violence, infidelity, smut, thigh riding, fingering, oral sex, p in v sex, lil exhibitionist kink, mild daddy kink, breeding kink, discussion of murder, reader is a huge slut for coryo, coryo is also a slut for reader, idk probs some more that i forgot
notes: this one was fun :) hope u enjoy!!!
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Felix Ravinstill was his natural born enemy. He remembers deciding it when he was younger watching your small hand hold Felix's even though neither of you knew what it meant, he remembers it settling into his bones that very first day at the Academy when Felix had his arm around your waist and you had turned to look at Coriolanus, a small smile on your lips, a cherry sucker in your teeth as you spoke with the voice of a candy coated temptress, "Hi Coryo."
He hated Felix Ravinstill for having you, always had, always will. Today, he especially hated him. It was an ordinary day, most of the students crammed in the academy library to work on their most recent assignments. That's why he was there, stack of books next to him, mindlessly staring at a blank sheet of paper. He could hear the rest of his table too loudly to focus, hear as Festus made some crude joke, listen to how Arachne told him off, as Felix's hand was making its way over to you.
You.
Sweet, pretty thing you. He didn't understand what you saw in Felix enough to let him touch you, nor anyone at that table. But that was the only reason he truly hung around that crowd of elite children, so he could slither in closer to you.
You.
With your cherry sucker rolling between your lips, Felix's hand around the back of your chair as you leaned back the top buttons of your uniform shirt undone, sweat glistening slightly along your chest. It was a hotter fall day, the AC not working in the library, but he didn't mind, not with how revealed it made you. He glanced down, his pants uncomfortably tight as he imagined what your sweat would taste like. He sighed readjusting himself glancing up to see you looking at him. Felix was looking down at a book Festus was showing him as Arachne scribbled something down on a sheet of paper.
You pushed it into your cheek, tongue peeking out at the movement, your fingers dancing on the edge of the white stick. His eyes darkened as the wicked smile played on your lips, he knew you did things like this on purpose; sweetest torture one could bear. He palmed his hard cock, eyes quivering with the little bit of relief it gave him and all he wanted was it to be your hand rubbing him. He wanted to drag you by your hair and slam you on this very table in front of everyone and shove his co-!
"Coriolanus." Arachne Crane drawled .
He blinked up at her, the whole table now looking at him. "Yes?"
"Are you coming to the orientation event tonight?"
The event. The first event of the school year where the Academy stuffed all its students in a room to kick off the start of the year. "Of course." He nodded. "I have to give a speech for the underclassmen." And there would be food, and probably you.
His eyes met yours for a moment as your cheeks sucked in to roll the sucker back the other way. "Always the overachiever Coriolanus." Felix joked his fingers toying with the collar of your shirt and he fought the urge to snap his wrist.
He watched as you popped the sucker out of your mouth, lips a shade redder from it, and he knew if he licked into your mouth he would taste the cherry.
Felix Ravinstill's days were limited.
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He knew it would go well, his speech, it was never what he was worried about, he was top of the class for a reason, he knew most of the students didn't care for being spoken to, but he knew once he saw you it would be over for him. He knew you were out there somewhere, maybe listening to him, maybe with your stupid boyfriend's hand around your waist.
And you were, staring him down while your lips wrapped around a strawberry.
He hid his throbbing erection behind the podium.
He wanted to wrangle your neck sometimes, wanted to curse the blood pounding in his cock as he watched you drop the fruit carcass onto your plate and lick your lips. He cleared his throat, his skin too hot, trying to avoid looking to see you pick up another one.
The words felt useless and he forced himself through it letting your eyes bore into his, letting himself press his cock against the podium just to ease the pressure.
You picked up another, taking another bite a little bit of juice sliding down your chin and he fought the urge to run off this stage and lick it off, to suck your chewed up fruit into his mouth. You took your hand, wiping it off your jaw, and sucked it off your own fingers.
He wondered how your mouth would feel around his cock, how warm and soft your tongue would be against him. He wanted to fuck his cock deep down your throat until you gagged, drowning in his cum.
He cut his speech short, getting to the point to get off the stage. He busied himself with food to avoid thinking of you even though that was impossible. He would stay for an hour, eat, drink a glass of posca, and then head home before he shoved a plastic knife into Felix's throat.
You all knew each other, grown up together, and it was always set in stone that you would marry Felix. It was something older families had set up before either of you could talk. You two were always together after that, and he kept you on his arm like a pretty accessory. Coriolanus figured you probably felt indifferent about the whole thing, he had never been able to really ask you about it, and you never gave him straightforward answers if you didn't want to.
He turned finally seeing you across the room. It was cruel of you really to wear a skirt that short in front of him and have Felix's greasy fingers pawing you. A skirt he wished he could push up and bend you over in front of your stupid boyfriend. You would let him too, he knew you would, it's what bothered him the most.
Your eyes met his and held them as you took a sip from your glass eyes burning into his over the rim. You turned, whispering something to Felix, motioning to your cup, and peeling off of him walking straight for Coriolanus.
"Hi Coryo." You smiled brushing past him to where all the food was being kept along the table setting your half eaten fruit down. He loved the way you said his name, how it rolled off your tongue like golden honey.
"Hey." He sipped on his drink.
You refilled your cup, "Your speech was nice."
"Not too boring?" He joked as your body turned to face his.
You smirked against the rim. "I don't think your boring." Your lips were still red from the strawberry and Coriolanus wanted to taste that sweetness, you're so close he can smell it off of you. He clenched his fist instead. "You're the most interesting man I know."
Man. You had said man as if your loser boyfriend wasn't 20 feet away no doubt watching this whole encounter. Coryo leaned down a little closer, "I don't think Felix would like to hear you say that."
You fucking shrugged, "Then he won't." You turned your hair brushing his chest at the movement. "Bye Coryo."
This was the game the two of you played, you would make your eyes, say little comments, accident brush into him, and then you were gone leaving him achingly hard.
You were walking away hip swaying as you walked. You were trouble.
You were his trouble.
Sweet, irresistible you who was forced to leave ten minutes later by your boyfriend leaving Coriolanus to steal your plate of half eat fruit simply to taste your leftover spit and take a long walk home alone to go over what needed to be done.
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"Trouble in paradise it seems." Clemensia slid down into the seat across from Coriolanus motioning to you and Felix, upset expression's on both of your faces. "Daddy must have picked out the wrong ring."
Coryo furrowed his brow, "Ring?" He knew it was coming soon, but he'd thought he'd have time to climb his own ladder to take you from Felix by right.
“Oh you haven’t head the news?” Clemmie cocked an eyebrow a sly smile on her face. “They’ve been ring shopping, or their parents have been. They'll be engaged by the end of the year.” She chuckled peering over at the two of you. “He’ll head off to University and she’ll be at home getting fat with his child.”
The food on his plate went sour. “What?”
Clemmie rolled her eyes, “Her father is pushing hard to set the marriage in place. He wants his daughter to be First Lady of Panem, and he is President’s Ravenstill’s direct heir.”
Coriolanus Snow, future President of Panem, I salute you.
Well if your father wanted you to marry the president, he was selling you to the wrong son.
He pushed his food around watching you storm away from Felix. And because he didn't like to waste food, nor look that suspicious he finished his lunch. He waited a few minutes, excused himself, and he was on his feet following where you ran off too.
He looked for a while finding you deserted at a lone table in the library.
"Hey." He said softly to not spook you.
He watched you slowly look at him expecting red eyes and tears, but instead your expression was blank another sucker in your mouth. "Hi Coryo." You still said his name so sweetly like the sugar from your candy laced your vocal cords.
"You alright?" He stopped in front of you.
"Yeah." You sighed rolling it along your teeth. He wanted to ask why you were arguing with Felix, if you truly enjoyed his company, or was this one big farce to appease your family. Instead he stared at you waiting for you to fill in the gaps themselves. You wouldn't, you never did, you never liked to reveal your cards, and he could only assume the argument had everything to do with postponing the engagement and nothing about a ring. You only cocked your head to the side hair falling over your shoulder. "Did you need something?"
He did, desperately. And he was tired of denying it to himself.
He walked over, pushed your chair back and settled his hands on either side of the chair's arms, towering over you. "Where do you get all those?" He asked finger bouncing off the stick.
You smirked up at him your knees sliding between his thighs, "My daddy." He was hard. He felt his pants fighting with his cock as he stared into your eyes. "Do you want one?"
He was sick of this game you played, and he was running out of time.
He didn't answer, but his lips parted as he reached forward and pulled the one from your mouth. He thought you were sick of the game too because you let him, let him slide it off your tongue, watching the trail of spit still attached, and into his own mouth. He pushed it past his lips feeling his cock twitch as he finally tasted that sticky sweet sucker you always had on you. "Cherry."
"Hmm." You had a smug smile on your lips as you stared up at him and slowly he felt your legs begin to part between his own. He glanced down, glanced down as your uniform skirt began to ride up bare thighs. He wondered if he reached his hand under there if he would find you naked and drenched. He thinks knows he would.
"Your boyfriend will be upset if he finds you like this." He says leaning down a little closer to you.
You feign innocence. "I'm not doing anything."
You settle into the chair more you shirt collar widening as he views the dainty gold necklace around your neck with the letter 'F' on it. His fingers go to it, tracing the letter, then he's trailing up your neck tilting your face up more by your chin. He wants to strangle you with it. "Do you enjoy teasing me angel?"
"Do you enjoy getting hard by it?" You ask back and he shoves your sucker deep into his cheek to grid his teeth. Your eyes go to the bulge in his pants.
His hand tightens on your jaw, "Let me come over."
"My daddy won't like that." You shake your head.
His cock throbs. "I don't care."
Your hand splayed against his chest as you sit up more, "Why do you want to come over so badly?"
"You know why," His fingers dig into your skin fighting the urge, forcing restraint into his body.
You move forward more your face inches from him, "Do I?"
"Because you want me to." His eyes flicker around your face. "That's why your always making those eyes at me hmm? Rubbing against me like a bitch in heat?"
Your hand goes to his wrist to pull it from your face, and then your dragging it down between your legs. He can't look away from your face, not as you trail his hand up your thighs to brush his fingers against your soaked pussy. He was right, you weren't wearing anything under your skirt and he knew it was just for him, and him alone. "I can't help it." You pout rubbing his knuckles against your folds. "You make me so wet all the time Coryo."
He curses as you shutter when his fingers bump against your throbbing clit and he losing the battle of self control. He wants Felix to find you like this, find you screaming out for Coriolanus as you cum. Instead he runs his hand along your arousal one last time and straightens up, "Let me walk you to class."
You watch with a flush on your face as he sucks your wetness off his fingers, letting it mingle with the tart cherry of your sucker still on his tongue. He's surprised you don't force him to give it back before Felix's sees. "Okay." You say standing up and he sees your own wetness sliding down your thigh. You let him tuck your hand into his arm so he could walk you out and back towards class. "I think I'll sit with you today if you don't mind." You tell him as you cross the classroom's threshold together. He's not surprised after the earlier argument you seemed to be reeling from.
You take the seat on his left when you usually sit a row down with your stupid boyfriend. And when said stupid boyfriend walks in later a glare settles in his gaze watching him look between you and Coriolanus who still sucked on your candy. Felix grumbles, but sits down anyways with no more fuss, Coriolanus chuckled silently to himself. You don't speak much more to Coryo, just mindlessly doodle on some paper with you head resting on your hand.
But then class starts, and your knee knocks into his.
At first he thinks it's an accident, but a couple minutes later you do it again leaving your leg to rest against his. He wants to reach out, rub his hand up you thigh to bury in your cunt. He wants to watch you squirm and fight the noises he was pulling from you. He wants to make you cum a row behind your boyfriend, and you would let him.
He knew why Felix kept such a tight leash around you, if this was how you behaved off of it.
By some form of grace or luck of whatever watched over Coriolanus Snow, the class assignment required partners. He usually would partner with Clemensia, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up as he turned to look at you, an expecting glint in your eye, "I'll come over tomorrow night?"
You only laughed a little, but you didn't say no. And he watched as Felix came stumbling up from his chair to grip his hands against the edge of the table where you sat like the desperate swine he was, struggling for scraps. "Come over, we can work on it together."
You frowned sweetly, almost looking truly apologetic. "Oh I'm sorry. Coryo already asked me to be his partner."
Felix's angry eyes burned into Coriolanus, "We're always partners though." He leaned forward to whisper. "If this is about our argument earlier I can just..."
"No." You patted his shoulder. "Of course not, but really I can't say no to Coryo now that would be awfully rude."
"I'm sure Clemensia needs a partner." Coriolanus added. "Sorry Felix."
Felix only motioned for you to get up so he can take you home. You stood up and smiled down at Coriolanus, "Bye Coryo."
He watched you walk away wetness still glistening on your legs, the taste of it still on his tongue.
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He arrived five minutes sooner than he was supposed to. He knew your parents were home, and wanted to impress them, wanted your father to realize how much better than Felix he was, it wouldn't be a hard task. He knocked, his hand lying limp at his side waiting for someone to answer.
It was your father.
He was a wealthy man, not as wealthy as Strabo Plinth, but enough. It was all about where he had put his money during the war, investing in the right places, unlike the Snows. You kept up with the league of elite children in school, you belonged there in the thick of it all. Snow did too, but he had to work harder to keep that image and he hated that that was the only thing keeping him from you.
He reached a hand out to shake your father's hand, “Coriolanus Snow.” He introduced.
“I know.” He offered a tight smile as he shook Coriolanus’s hand. “She told me you were stopping by to help with some…assignment.”
He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
But your father never moved as he took back his hand, never invited him inside leaving Coriolanus to stand awkwardly in the door frame. “Daddy.” Your sweet voice piped in shoving past his tall frame to open the door more. “Stop scaring him.”
Daddy. It sent a cool chill down his spine as you stared up at your father. “I’m not.” He held up his hands, “ Just wondering why you need help in school in the first place.”
“It’s a group assignment.” Coriolanus added as your eyes flitted up to him. “We got paired together.”
“Oh,” You father relaxed stepping away from the door. “You can work a the table then.” He motioned to your dining room table.
You walked away from him leaving him to follow you into your home and close the door. “We were actually goi-!”
“No bedroom.” You father shot at you without even looking as he disappeared into your home.
You sighed finally turning around, you motioned to the table, “You can set your stuff down here.” You instructed. “I’ll be right back.” You left, no doubt going to gather all your school work from your room. “Are you hungry?” You asked once you returned with your piles of books and papers. You were wearing one of you cute little plaid tweed mini skirts that hugged your thighs and he knew you weren't wearing anything under it.
“I ate before I left.” He lied.
“You can stay for dinner if you want.” You sat down next to him your leg sliding against his. He knew you did things like that on purpose just to touch him, just to drive him insane as your perfume wafted into his nose. He began to protest, he wanted to stay, if only to convince your father he was the better man. “Stay, please.” You set your hand on his wrist as you smiled.
He nodded. “Okay.”
The two of you did get to work after that as he educated you through what was needed for the assignment, your shoulder against his as you watched what he wrote down. Sometimes he truly thought you never payed attention, maybe you thought you were too pretty for school and it wasn’t needed. You were too pretty for it. You didn’t need it. He knew your father had set you up with someone wealthy to ensure you have a long profitable life without having to work for it. Yet, here you were working towards it anyways. He admired it for a moment, but your hand fell on his thigh and he knew he would end up having to do the whole assignment by himself.
He didn't mind as he listened to the quietness of your house. You glanced up at him, and he met your eyes realizing how close your face was, and he knew what you wanted as you bit your lip. "Does your daddy know what a little slut you are?" He whispered.
"No." You breathed slinging your leg over his thigh to straddle it.
His hands went your thighs, "Then you better be quiet angel." He glanced down as your skirt rode up your thighs your bare cunt pressed against the meat of his leg, he felt your wetness seeping through. He leaned back, watching as you rocked your hips against his thigh. He took a second, just one second, to enjoy the feeling of your body against his, enjoy the fact you were riding him, getting off to him, then he was sliding his hands up your bare thighs to wrap around your body. You were so soft under his touch like you had bathed in rose petals. His fingers dug into your waist forcing them to roll against him harder and you made a small noise from the back of your throat.
"Felix can't get you off can he?" You whine as your clit rubs against him, the sweet friction of it all making your head fall back slightly, "No he doesn't know how to handle you does he?" He stared up at you, at your open mouth, and he runs his hand down your hair. "That's why you came crawling after me." You grind against him faster chasing your own high as your hand goes to his pants palming his hard cock through his pants.
You're such a whore, he knows that about you, he knows you hide it so fucking well and yet here you were, fucking his thigh, hand halfway down his pants when your father could come find you any second. It makes him want to slam you back on the table and sink his cock into your wet heat just for him to see, just to prove he was the man of this house, of you. "Coryo." You moan out quietly and he thinks its the sweetest way you'll ever say his name. You slid your hand down his cock. He groans out taking in the sight of your hand working him, swirling your hand around the shaft pre-cum leaking out of the tip.
He wants to bury his face into your mouth, your neck, your breast, but he can only watch you, watch you get yourself off on top of him. He flexes his thighs the same time you tilt yourself forward and your grip tightens on him. He stares up at your face, eyes glazed over as you grind your pussy down hard against him, lip tugged between your teeth pumping his cock at the same rhythm as your body. He feels you clench your thighs and soon enough you cum, drenching his pants with your pleasure. He wraps his hand around yours to fuck your hand faster, harder, and then he's planting it against your soaked thigh to cum against you, hot white ropes of it splashing across your skin. You don't move off of him, you both sit there for a while breathing heavily against each other until you straighten up to stare down at him.
"I don't let Felix touch me." You say hands coming up to toy with the ends of his curling hair.
"Why?"
You only smile and he's never thought you looked more beautiful, sweat on your hairline, red cheeks, and his cum on your body. You glance down at the clumps of white covering your skin, and then you run two fingers through it, gathering it on your fingers, and shoving them in your mouth sucking his cum off. He's mesmerized as you groan gently popping your fingers out and licking your lips. You climb off his body to settle back into your own chair glancing down at the wetness staining Coriolanus's pants seeping down onto his skin a satisfied feline grin on your face.
Your mother came through the next second, “I’ll set the table for four?”
You smiled up at her, “Yes ma’am.”
He dined with your family, a deliciously huge meal, one he hadn’t had in a while and he wondered if your parents could smell your actions in the air. “She didn’t give you too much trouble son?”
Your father’s voice made him look up as he asked, “No sir.”
He turned to you, “Why wasn’t Felix your partner?”
“He went with someone else.” You shrugged pushing your food around.
“I’ll speak with him.” Your father said.
“Daddy no.” Coriolanus shifted in his seat at the whine. “Please don’t.”
Coriolanus cleared his throat watching both eyes snap up to him. “I asked to be your daughter's partner for this assignment, and she was too kind to tell me no.”
Your father relaxed as Coriolanus had saved you from some lecture. You gave him a sly smile as your mother chimed in, “I made apple pie.”
After desert, and a minor interrogation from your father about his plans after The Academy, you walked him to the door. He didn’t like that your father felt the need to exert his power over him. In all honestly he didn't trust your father's intelligence if he thought Felix was a good option for you. You stepped outside with him closing the door behind you. You leaned against it staring up at him biting your bottom lip. He planted his hand next to your head towering over you.
"Are you gunna kiss me goodnight Coryo?" You tilted your face up for him.
"I don't think Daddy would like that very much." His hand comes up to your chin.
You smirk, going onto your toes to brush your lips against his. "Oh I think Daddy will."
He attacks your mouth tasting the sticky sweetness that was you, always would be you. The taste of apple is still on your tongue from your mothers pie, apples and cinnamon everything that was nice layered your lips as he licked along it feeling you part your mouth for him to slip inside. His hands were in your hair pulling you closer as you braced your hands on his chest melding your lips against his. He swept his tongue into your mouth meshing it with yours. He yanked your head back to stick his tongue down your throat feeling your back arch so your breast press against him, and the salty remnants of his cum lace your molars. He nips at your bottom lips your moan vibrating through him as he sucks and tugs on it until he knows it will bruise. Then he pulls back, "Are you going to let me fuck you angel?"
You give him a breathy laugh, "See ya, Coryo." Then you disappear back into your home.
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By the time next week hit you were back in your normal spot next to your boyfriend. It shouldn't have surprised Coriolanus, he knew you were just rebelling against the mold your family had forced you into, and he just happen to enjoy letting you use him.
But you turned around, that cherry sucker that tasted so good between your lush lips, and you would smile.
"Hi Coryo." You said it like you had a secret only he knew and he was sometimes forced to jack off in the men's bathroom just to take the edge off. Just to avoid wanting to fuck you right then and there in front of the whole class, and he knows you're waiting for the day he finally does it.
As he tucked himself back into his pants exiting the bathroom you were standing there, back against the opposite wall watching him. Your eyes met and he only leans his shoulder against the door frame of the bathroom. "Felix is mad at me."
He looks you up and down, "Why?"
"Because I told him you were coming over tonight." He chuckles to himself, your eyes studying him as he walks over to you.
"I am?" He asked as you trail your fingers up the buttons on his shirt.
You frown, "I'm needy."
He scoffs, "I hope that isn't the reason you gave him."
"Please," You whine your hand running down his arm to guide it to the middle of your skirt and he can't help himself, even your begging is sweet.
He guides his hand up your bare thighs, your soaked cunt greeting him like it had missed him too. "You need me that bad hmm?" He runs a hand up your center watching you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. He leans his head down taking your lip between his own teeth and sucking on it tasting that lingering cherry sugar as he pushes two fingers into you. Your mouth parts in a gasp as you part your legs more for him. "Does your boyfriend know his girlfriend is a dirty whore? Fucking soaked for me all the time?" You tilt yourself forward sucking in his hand deeper as he curls up against a sweet spot your quiet moan echoing around the empty hall. "You want someone to find us don't you, you want them to see what a fucking slut you are for me."
"Coryo." You whimper nails digging into his shoulders and he hopes you mark his skin forever. He presses his forehead to yours feeling you pant against his face as he presses his palm to your clit.
"That's right." He grazes his teeth along your jaw as he fucks you faster with his hand. "Call out my name when you cum angel." He growls out, "My angel." Because you were, his, he knew that long ago, remembering glaring at Felix when you all were children and he had his arm around you when it should have been Coriolanus. His tongue lolls against your damp skin of your neck and your hand twist in his hair as he pulls your leg up more around his waist.
It's a test of restraint to not wrap your legs completely around his waist and sink into you, to take what is so rightfully his. Instead he shifts his hand, thumb pressing into your clit to listen to your mewls, to the sound of his wet fingers dipping in and out of you at a brutal pace. He sinks his teeth into your neck rolling his tongue along the mark he knew he was giving you, and you love that it will be there.
He feels you clenching around his hand as you moaned out his name cumming against him. Your chest hits his with every panting breath as he slowly lifts his head to gaze down at you, hair slightly disheveled, cheeks flushed, blissfully dazed out from the orgasm he gave you. "I'm making cookies."
Of course you were, he groans as he presses his face into yours capturing your lips with his own hand still buried inside of you. "What kind?"
"Chocolate chip." You smirk against his lips. "I'll let you lick the spoon."
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You opened the door for him this time and he wanted to yank you from the frame to run away with you forever. You wear wearing a pretty black minidress with a white long sleeve underneath it, an apron covering you, flour splattered across your cheek, and a pink ribbon tied your hair at the base of your ponytail. It's like you worked so hard to persevere girlhood and innocence to hide the adultery lurking under your skin.
"Hi Coryo." You batted your eyelashes at him as you opened the door for him more to come inside.
He did love the sound of you closing and locking the door for him, "Where's you father?" He asked watching you walk in front of him.
"Working late." You replied leading him towards your kitchen waving a hand around. "My mother is off doing something unproductive."
He leaned against your marble island watching you throw a cup of sugar into the large bowl, "They left you in here all alone?"
You chuckled, "I'm not alone, you're here with me." You cracked an egg your eyes glancing over towards his, "Do you think your parents would have liked me?"
Coriolanus looks you up and down. He thinks they would and maybe in a perfect world where he wasn't an orphan your father would have wed you to Coriolanus. "I could never take you home to mother in a dress that short." He smirks as you slowly begin to stir the batter. He sometimes was surprised Felix let you leave the house if this is how you acted, how you dressed.
"Oh yeah?" You pop your hip out a little.
He straightens up stalking over to you until your back was pressed to his chest, nose buried in your floral scented hair. "She would disown me for bringing home such a brazen slut."
"But her son loves when I dress like this." His hands find the hem of your dress as his fingers trace with the curve of your ass.
He plants his mouth against your neck, "Does he now?"
You push your ass back into his hard cock. "Oh I think he adores how I dress for him." His hand splays across your backside as his teeth graze the flesh of your jugular and he wants to sink his teeth in to stake his claim. "How I never wear any panties for him."
His nails dig into you because he fucking knew it. "All for me." He repeats sucking on your skin until you wince away hoping the mark is deep and purple and Felix knows it's from him.
You turn suddenly eyes flickering up to his face, "The trick is a little extra vanilla.” You motioned to the dough sitting on top of two fingers. "Try some." He wraps his hand around your delicate wrist and brings it to his mouth. He sucked in your fingers eyes never leaving yours as your mouth parted slightly the blush forming on your cheeks as his tongue swirled around your flesh. It tasted delicious, but your skin tasted better like sugar had ingrained itself into every pore. He let your fingers glide deeper on his tongue before he popped them out of his mouth.
"Hmm." He ran his tongue up the sides until all that was left on them was his spit.
You breath. "All for you." He's kissing you then, consuming your validation that you knew what he knew, you belonged to him. He taste the scoops of dough you had stolen, the chocolate and brown sugar mingling on your tongue and he adores that extra teaspoon of vanilla you added. He licks it off the roof of your mouth sucking on your tongue, and then your arching into him on your toes as his hands trail down your body cupping your ass as your dress rides up.
He reaches his other hand back pushing aside your large bowl of batter and then he's lifting you onto the counter loving the way he fits in between your legs. You were made for him, he knew that long ago, cut perfectly from that juicy forbidden fruit Eve ate. His hand goes to your chest kneading your breast over fabric as he slowly lowers you to the countertop spreading your legs open for him. He breaks the kiss descending down your body to peer at you decadent wet cunt. He knows you'll taste sweet down here too, his mouth waters taking in the sight.
"Oh she's pretty."
He can't help but moan into you as he licks up the center prodding your clit with the tip of his tongue feeling your hand find his blonde curls. Your feet come up around his shoulders as he passes over it gently at first savoring the taste of your arousal and knowing he would never taste anything better than you. He traces circles around it slowly feeling you squirm under his touch, hearing your pretty whines, nails scraping against his skull. He dares a glance up at you, at your agape mouth, your eyes squeezed shut as he begins to move his tongue faster.
He decides then he won't wash his mouth out tonight. He wants you stuck between his teeth forever and when tomorrow comes he hopes Felix will smell your cunt on his breath.
He tilts your hips up wrapping his lips around your clit pressing down on it with his tongue as you breath heavily beneath him. He's slithering his arm up your body squeezing your breast. "Coryo." You moan out pushing your pussy into his face more, grinding it against him. He's moving his tongue side to side, hard pressed rhythmic motions that have you a mess in his hands. Your thighs clench around him as you whimper one last time before you cum against his face. He drinks you up, everything you have to offer, lapping up what you give him as his tongue pushes into you for a moment feeling your walls spasming from your orgasm.
You yank his head up by his hair and you shoot up encasing his mouth with your own tasting yourself on his tongue as you sweep into his mouth and he groans pressing his groin into your island.
"Tell me how you like it." You pant out into his mouth teeth knocking against each other.
Coriolanus takes your expression in and he realizes, yes you never let Felix touch you, but you never touched him either. You have never touched another man besides him, saving yourself for him, and it makes him want to shove his cock down your throat even harder. He helps you off the counter onto shaky legs and your going down onto your knees in front of him. He lets you unbutton his pants and unsheathe his hard length running your hand along it.
"Put your mouth around it." He tells you as you bring it up to your lips, and you fucking lick the tip like it's one of your cherry suckers.
Then you open your mouth and wrap your lips around him sliding him inside. He always imagined what your mouth would feel like after so many times of seeing you suck on that hard little candy. It's even better than he thought. He hisses as his hips buck forward a little letting him hit the back of your throat. You bob along his cock once, twice, three times before you pop off blinking up at him with that coy little act, "You're so big Coryo."
He shoves himself back in your mouth, "Wrap your hand around it." That was all you needed to know as you worked his cock, taking him deeper, hand swirling around the shaft tongue lolling against the head. You work him faster, grip hardening around him, sucking in your cheeks as you look up at him with big doe eyes. "Fuck." He gritted out hand tangling in your ponytail to move your head against him, force his cock deeper watching the water well in your eyes, but you never stopped. "You like my cock in your mouth don't you angel? Want my cum down your throat yeah?"
You moan against him in response teeth gently grazing his skin. Your mouth too soft, too hot, hands gripping him so tightly, his hand in your hair holds harder as his thighs tighten. Your tongue sweeps out along his shaft and he's cumming, hot ropes of it shooting down your throat shoving his cock deeper to make sure you took it all.
And you did, greedily, your hand still softly gliding along him as he thrust one final time into your mouth. He wraps his finger around the ribbon in your hair and tugs it out slipping it into his pocket. You popped off, wiped your lips with your finger, and sucked it clean keeping your eyes locked with him.
His hands come around your face as you stand up. "Break up with Felix." He whispers out thumb tracing your puffy lips. He's sick of seeing you with him, not being the able to claim you in front of everyone like he wanted to.
"I have to preheat the oven." Is all you say back stepping out of his hold to go over the the oven.
He clenches his jaw, "I want Felix to know."
You shrug, your back still to him, "Then tell him." You turn after turning on your oven. "It won't change anything." You walk towards him a hand coming up to push his curls away from his face, "Unless..." You peered up at him manipulative innocence in your eyes. "You were the President of Panem."
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Coriolanus couldn't get enough of you at that point, he had become addicted to your sugar sweet taste and once was never enough for him.
All it took was one little smile while you licked up the red ball of your cherry sucker, and he was pouncing on you, meeting you in the hallway every time.
In between classes he would shove you into random closets to force his cock down your throat. You two would time bathroom breaks unsuspectingly and he would have you up against the stall wall fucking you with his hand.
His favorite moments were when he hunted you down in the library pretending to read a book. You would look up with a little shy smile. "Hi Coryo." You'd purr and soon he'd have you sprawled out on the table like his own personal meal drinking your pleasure like it was nectar from the Gods.
He came over occasionally too, lying about some assignment or help with a test. Your mother always invited him to stay for dinner, and he would, of course, shove his hand inside you under the table until you came while he spoke to your father.
Felix was suspicious. It wasn't hard to be when you showed up with marks on your neck, the same neck still wearing that ugly 'F' necklace, and the pretty ribbon from your hair wrapped around Coriolanus's wrist. He would only glance back at Coriolanus, and Coriolanus would smirk back at him, but he never said anything.
Everything was wonderful.
Then one day things began to change.
"Let me fuck you." Coriolanus told you kissing your open mouth as you came down hard on his hand. He wanted to be inside you, wanted to trap you to him forever. You would let him.
Your head falls back against the wall, "No Coryo."
"Let me fuck you." He kissed you again. "Come on baby girl, I know you want to."
"I'm waiting until marriage Coryo." You unravel yourself from him fixing your skirt. He knows you're lying, "I'm a good girl."
He scoffed, "Yeah a real angel."
You sighed running a hand over your face. “My father is having Felix and his uncle over tonight.”
“President Ravinstill?” You cringed when he said it. "Why?"
"Because Felix thinks you're up to something and wants to speed things along." His jaw clenched, he was going to murder Felix and his stupid uncle. You flash him a smirk, "He thinks you're trying to corrupt me."
Coriolanus chuckled, "I don't play well with others."
You came closer, hand dipping under his shirt to rest against his bare chest. You kissed his jaw, "You play well with me, Coryo."
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He waited outside your home watching through your windows as you ate dinner. You sat next to Felix, fake laughing, hand sometimes brushing his wrist with affection. It boiled his blood and he curses his father for dying, for investing in District 13 to make him poor. You were his. He should be sitting at that table with you planning your engagement.
He knew the only way he would take you from Felix was winning the Plinth Prize at the end of the year, going to University, and stealing that Presidency out from under him.
It was the only way.
He watched you kiss Felix on the cheek as him and his uncle left. He watched you arguing with your father, storming off no doubt to your bedroom. And then he was moving, sticking to the shadows until he was around your house staring up at your bedroom window. He scaled the wall ending up on your small balcony staring into your sheer curtains.
You looked so beautiful sitting at your vanity combing through your hair still in your dress from dinner.
He pushed the balcony door open quietly, but your eyes met his through the mirror. "Surprised you didn't storm into dinner earlier." You set the brush down. He took a seat on your bed raising his eyebrow, "I always know where you are Coriolanus Snow, even if its creeping outside my windows."
"Who gave you these?" He motions to the vase of fresh flowers.
"Felix." Your smile drips in sweetness. "My boyfriend."
You turned to him, "How was dinner?"
"Boring." You sighed leaning your elbows against your vanity. "He's going to propose after graduation." Coriolanus's blood heated. "The ring was beautiful though."
His eyes followed you as you stood, "I could buy you a better one."
Your hands rested on his shoulders as you cocked your head to the side. "With what money?" He glared at you. He didn't like that people suspected he was poor, let alone you.
"Would you say no if I asked you?"
"That's not up to me." You chuckled hands toying with the end of his hair. That 'F' necklace around your throat dangling in his face.
Coriolanus narrowed in on it, "I could just...kill your father, Felix, anyone that got in my way." He reaches up and rips the necklace off your neck hearing it clatter to the floor, broken.
You leaned down, nose pressed to his cheek, the words brushing his mouth in a sweet caress, "Then do it."
His hands went around your back pulling down the zipper of your dress feeling it loosen around your body until it fell around your feet. You stood up stepping out of the dress and Coriolanus looked up your body slowly, taking in every naked inch of your body. He landed on your face, "What do you want angel?"
"Even when you were a boy, you were a man." You slid onto his lap naked body pressed against him hands running through his hair. "I want a man. I want you."
He flipped you onto your back crashing his mouth to yours engulfing your lips with his own. You were unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it off his shoulders, running your hands down his bare chest. His tongue meshes with yours mouths gliding along each other as you burst open the button on his pants. He wants his skin against yours, to feel your warm softness against every inch of him. He pushes his pants down his legs until the two of you are nothing but flesh.
You capture his lips once more as his hand travels up your side his thumb brushing the underside of your breast. You blissfully sigh. He cups your breast, hushing your mouth with a harder kiss. His thumb passed over your nipple, rolling the pad along it, feeling it perk up to his touch a low whine in your throat that he swallowed up nails scraping against his skull. He moves his mouth off of yours trailing down your neck, tasting every sweet part of you until his mouth wraps around your perked nipple lavishing it with his tongue as your back arches pushing it further into his mouth. His teeth nip down on it, licking and sucking as your squirm under him.
He feels your wetness against his thigh and he shifts to run his hand along your folds. "Did you think about me fucking you all throughout dinner?" He presses a finger slightly against your clit. "Thought about all the pretty noises your Daddy would hear down the hall."
Yours eyes darken as you gaze into his. "I wanted you to fuck me during dinner; storm through my front door and take me in front of Felix and his stupid uncle."
"You're such a little fucking whore."
You smirked, "Daddy's little fucking whore."
He shoves his fingers inside you, lips parting at the intrusion. He wants to be inside you, wants to claim everything you are as he thrust his hand in and out of you, stretching you open, the room thick with the scent of your arousal and squelching sounds of your pussy. You buck your hips into his hand to meet him as his palm presses down on your clit and he already feels your walls clenching around him.
He presses his face into your chest, your heart thumping rapidly for him. You were breathless, your legs spreading open more for him as your body tightened around him as he brought you closer to your peak. He curls his fingers against that spot he knows you love and you came undone with a soft cry, clamping down around his hand, nails digging into his scalp. He straightens up admiring you. You looked so beautiful sweat forming across your chest, cheeks red, lips parted to catch your breath as you stared up at him. You simply glanced down at his long, hard length and then back up at him. He knows you're a virgin, knows you'll take his cock like a slut.
He lined himself up with your sopping entrance and pushed into you. He can't help but groan as he closed his eyes moving slowly into you, letting your tight walls adjust to him, squeeze around him. He pauses for a moment the only sound coming from either of you were broken breaths. And then he pushes in until he fully inside you. You gasp at the feeling, the fullness, as you gazed up at him.
Your pussy fluttered around him and he rolled his hips against you pulling his dick back and slamming back into. "You take my cock so well." You arched your back as he slammed into you moaning out for him, wrapping your legs around his body to pull him deeper. His mouth was on yours, a mesh of spit and tongue, your hands rooted in his hair as he fucked into you. He was kneading your breast with one hand, pushing the other into your mattress to fuck you harder. He glanced between you, watching his cock disappear into you soaked pussy, watching how well you took each brutal thrust. "Perfect fucking pussy, made just for me." He drags his teeth along your jaw as your breast press against his chest. He pressed his hot mouth to your ear, "You're fucking mine, you understand that angel?" His hips snapped against yours heels curling into his sides as you nod against him. "Not Felix's...not your fathers...mine." He growls in your ear.
You agree tilting your pelvis up allowing him to slid against that sensitive spot.
His curls spill across your face, he wants to hear you say it. "Say it."
Your brows scrunch as he slides his hand to your clit. You moan for him, "I'm yours Coryo." His grunts fill the room as he pounds into you as you cry out for him over and over again. He hears your bed knocking against the wall, the squeaking sound of the spring as it slides against the floor, neither of you care who hears it. You clamp down around him coming all over his cock squeezing him too tight.
"Gunna cum in this tight little pussy." He hisses out his thrust growing sporadic. "Gunna make you have my heirs." Your too fucked out to care as your teeth sink into his shoulder wanton pleas falling from your lips. He's spilling into you, cumming so deep inside you feeling your walls spasming around him, drinking in every drop of his seed. He thrust it further within you as your legs slowly uncurl from around him.
He pulls back to look at you his cock twitching one last time. "You have a lot of work to do." You tell him fingers twisting the curls along his face a devious smile on your lips and he knows you've never been an angel, not a day in your life.
You were the devil in a candied disguise.
"President Coriolanus Snow."
He will win that Plinth Prize. He will take you from Felix, from your stupid father, by right or by force.
He doesn't care what he has to do or who he has to kill along the way as long as he gets to have you at the end of it all.
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PART TWO HERE!!
im a whore for those blonde curls
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yourgothiccqueen · 26 days
Text
LN4 - “Formula One Sucks”
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Summary: A grumpy reader meets her match.
Parings : Lando Norris x Female Reader
Warnings: none except swearing - fluff and silliness!
PART 1 PART 2 PART 3
Masterlist
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“I think just don’t give a shit about it!”
“That’s because you’re a boring cow!”
Y/N sat crossed legged on the grass outside her tent, sun beating down on her face as she half heartedly sipped on a capri sun. Spending the night lying on the floor had left her aching and exhausted, and she feared spending the day watching ‘cars go round in circles’ would truly tip her over the edge.
“I just don’t get why I had to come.” Y/N groaned. “You know loads of other people.”
“None of whom were free at short notice on a Sunday!” Y/N’s friend Annie exclaimed.
Y/N groaned dramatically. She was already hating the fact that she was going to be spending the day trying to shelter from the heat whilst pushing her way through crowds of obsessive fans.
“It’s the three things I hate the most - cars, people and outside.”
“Oh shush, you had to come because you’re such a joyous, positive influence in my life who I knew would jump at the opportunity!” Annie said, sarcastically. “Now stop being so bloody miserable.”
Y/N scowled and playfully swatted Annie on the leg.
“You’re a bitch, you know that?”
“I know. Now drink your capri sun and cheer the fuck up.”
—————————————————————-
By 12pm Y/N had not, in fact, cheered the fuck up. She was truly finished with the world of formula one. So far she had queued for the loo, listened to some very loud music and spent an extortionate amount of money on a relatively small (and cold) hot dog.
Annie had long disappeared, claiming to have spotted some guy called ‘Fernando’ before rushing off into the crowd with a squeal, promising to meet Y/N at their seats later on.
It was beginning to get all too much for little Y/N L/N (😉) as she made her way throughout the bustle of people, eager to finally find someplace quiet to eat.
Eventually she found herself going through a set of doors (which definitely did not say staff only) as she found herself a quiet corner.
“Perfect.”
Before she could even take a bite, she heard a cough from behind her.
“Ermmm, what are you doing?”
Turning around, Y/N found herself faced with a relatively young man, wearing an orange cap with curls of brown peeking out the bottom. He looked strangely familiar, but Y/N couldn’t put her finger on it, and quite frankly she was too hangry to care.
“I’m eating my hot dog.”
The man smirked and let out a small laugh.
“Yeah, I can see that.”
Y/N shrugged and said “ask stupid questions, get stupid answers” before taking a bite.
The man raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued by the passive aggressive woman in front of him, who seemingly didn’t know who he was.
“Are you here for the race? Or do you work here?” He questioned.
“I’m here for the race. Are you?”
The curly haired man smirked slightly, letting out a little laugh.
“Yeah, I suppose you could say that.”
Y/N crammed another bite of hot dog into her mouth “Well, enjoy. It’s all a load of crap if you ask me though.”
A look of intrigue on his face, he asked “what makes you say that?”
“It’s just boring!” Y/N exclaimed. “Car goes zoom, someone wins, hurrah - so bloody what?! What’s the point?”
The man looked back at her, a look of mild bewilderment and irration written across his face.
“Well yeah, the car is one aspect of it, sure. But it’s the drivers that bring that passion, that excitement every week. They’re the ones who shake things up and keep things fresh. They’re the ones who make it worth watching.” The man let out a small cough. “I mean, that’s my opinion anyway.”
“Hmm. So which driver should I look out for today then?” Y/N queried.
The curly haired man shot her a questionable look.
“Don’t you know the names of any of the drivers?”
Y/N shrugged “I know Lewis Hamilton.”
He let out a laugh and another smirk again “well, that’s a start I suppose.”
Y/N was getting sick of this man smirking at her. But then again, it was a very nice smirk. And he did seem like a very nice man.
“So, what are you doing here if you hate formula one?” The man queried, arms folded against his chest.
“My friend’s a big fan, and her boyfriend who was was meant to be coming has got the flu.” Y/N sighed. “As much as I hate being here, I’d feel even shitter if she came on her own.”
The man let out a small smile “Well, that’s nice of you to do that for your friend.”
He suddenly glanced down at Y/N’s lips, and appeared to take a step closer.
Was this mysterious, attractive stranger about to kiss her?
His thumb reached up to her chin and she couldn’t help but look up into his eyes.
God he had beautiful eyes.
She felt his thumb touch her skin with the gentlest of touches, and her eyes fluttered shut.
He smelt *heavenly*. What aftershave was he wearing?
“Sorry, you had some ketchup on your chin.” He let out a soft giggle.
Y/N’s eyes snapped open, and she felt herself return to reality.
“Oh!”
The mystery man let out a giggle as his thumb brushed against her chin - “all gone.”
She laughed. “Thank you. It’s not everyday a stranger wipes ketchup off your face. Did we just get to second base?”
The man let out a laugh (it’s a very nice laugh).
“Sure. I’ll count it if you do.”
An urgent shout sounded from a door behind them.
“I’ve got to go. It was nice chatting to you though.” The man stated. “And to answer your question, look out for Lando Norris today. I’ve heard he’s one to watch!”
“Will do.” Y/N called, still slightly stunned from the interaction.
A few moments passed before a security clad gentlemen rounded the corner.
“Oi, you shouldn’t be back here! Get back out the front!”
“Relax - I’ve finished my hot dog, I’m going!”
———————————————————
The rest of the afternoon was a blur, as Y/N sat close to Annie, eyes fixated on a certain McLaren as he reached his final lap of the race.
“And Lando Norris has finished in P2!”
Cheers erupted from around Y/N and she found herself joining it. Turned out that ‘cars, and people and outside’ could be pretty exciting - who knew?!
“Fuck yeah!” Annie shouted, jumping up and down.
The McLaren driver removed his helmet before waving up to the crowds, a grin plastered on his face.
Y/N’s own grin left her face.
“Oh shit. That’s the guy I met earlier!”
“What?” Annie exclaimed. “You met Lando Norris?”
“Yes! Is he a big deal?” Y/N stated, panic rising.
Annie glanced around them, signalling to the cheering crowds - “Duh! What did you say to him?”
Y/N gulped - “I shoved a hot dog in my mouth and told him formula one is crap.”
Annie stared. No words left her mouth.
Y/N could feel her face turning red. “I then proceeded to ask him if he was going to the race.”
A quick, sharp laugh left Annie’s mouth, before she fell into floods of hysterics.
“Holy shit! What is wrong with you?!”
Y/N could feel herself cringing.
“Oh god, I don’t know! Lots apparently!”
She glanced down to Lando again, to find him smirking up at her. He winked, before turning back towards his team.
“Oh my god, I’m never going outside again.” Y/N cringed. “This is all your fault!”
“My fault?” Annie laughed. “I didn’t tell an F1 driver that his sport is crap!”
Before Y/N could respond, she felt a tap on her shoulder. A uniformed worker pressed a piece of paper into her hand.
“I’ve been asked to give this to you.” The woman smiled, before walking away.
“What is it?” Annie questioned, eyeing the paper.
Y/N unwrapped it, finding quickly scrawled words,
Hello Grumpy,
I hope the race was enough to change your mind about formula one. Here’s my number if you ever fancy a hot dog or a debate over ‘cars going zoom’.
LN xx
“What. The. Fuck.” Annie’s eyes widened.
Y/N grinned.
“Maybe I do like F1 after all!”
1K notes · View notes
2-dsimp · 19 days
Text
《The smutty hitman chronicles》
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→【The Hacker: Milkies?】
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Cw: 🔞NSFW MDNI🔞Fem reader! throatpie, deep throating, praise, overstimulation, mention of lactation, breeding, and impregnation.
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『Yandere! Hacker that’s always spontaneous in everything he does. Whether it be from wrecking enemy databases or just casually trolling people online to pass the time. His unpredictable nature shines true in any setting he’s in.』
『Yandere! Hacker who’s the definition of an orange cat boyfriend. Always unhinged and in general an overly affectionate bundle of jittery joy when it comes to his loving darling.』
『Yandere! Hacker who loves everything about you from head to toe and is fascinated time and time again by your body anatomy. Reason why he’s got his hands on you 24/7 and due to his boundless obsession and curiosity. As to how you function on a daily basis being so soft and squishy compared to his lithe and hardened form. Regardless, You’re always kept on your toes whenever you’re in close quarters with the clingy fiend.』
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“Yujin, honey, are you alright? You’re spacing out again.”
『You hummed in an amused tone as you looked from beneath your lashes. To see your hacker boyfriend eyeing you with an intense glint in his sharp feline eyes that were up to no good. You jolted slightly when you felt him abruptly shove his hands down your crop top to greedily cup both of your jiggling boobs. Giving them a good hard knead.』
“Yeah, uh huh I’m fine babes it’s just—Wow! Your tits are so heavy and perky! So perfect to suck on…”
『Yujin drawled, dumbly in pure admiration as he went on to pinch and tweak at both of your nipples like they were joysticks. All the while his fleshy tip lightly dragged against your lips and chin smearing precum all over your face. As you were on your knees fondling his hairless balls and jerking off his pulsating shaft.』
“I read somewhere that mentioned how woman could lactate. Is that true? Of so, can you make that happen like right now, pretty please? I really wanna start milking you plus I’m thirsty.”
『He begged needily as he was completely fixated on your enticing mounds. Which had him utterly whipped at the thought of seeing milk dribble out those puffy areolas. That Yujin adored and revered to be the cutest thing of all. All the while he let out a throaty purr from how you started to lavish your wet tongue on his cockhead coaxing his salty sweet pre straight from the tap』
“Jin, listen I’d have to get pregnant in order to lactate. I can’t just do it at will on my own. It doesn't really work that way hon”
『You explained gently from how oblivious the 20 year old lynx hybrid sounded. Remembering how Yujin admitted that he didn’t have any definitive knowledge on the birds in the bees. Since he was raised in a very sheltered environment for most of his upbringing by strict caregivers.』
“Oh really? Well that's an easy fix! I could easily knock you up if that's what it takes baby cakes! All I gotta do is make sure to cram my spunk in every cute little hole you've got right?”
『Yujin chimed with a fanged lopsided grin and before you could even correct him with the right terminology. He suddenly thrusted his hips, forcing his thick cock deep into your mouth with each drawback of his pelvis.』
“Now that I think about it, I guess creaming your lovely throat would be good for starters~ you’d love that huh baby? I can just tell from from the way that sweet pussy is dripping all over the carpet~”
『He cooed lovingly, staring down at you while meanly squeezing your cheeks to get a close up at his dick. That was stretching open those plump lips that he fantasized kissing for all eternity. You were gripping his thighs for life support trying not to choke』
『As Yujin became Hellbent on pumping your throat full of his jizz to help fulfill his agenda. Of turning you into his lovely milk dispenser so that he’d be able to suckle on your swollen breasts. And admire his litter growing inside of your tummy for hours on end whenever he's slaving away in his room full of monitors and PCs.』
“Oh fuck, I think imma cum soon! You’re doing so good for me, so fucking good! just like I knew my pretty girl would. I swear Imma take the best care of you, make sure that my mate never goes in need of anything”
『He babbled, drooling from the tightness of your esophagus closing in on his throbbing meat. In tandem with how you squeezed his family jewels that were bloated with semen ready to make its home inside of you. And It doesn’t take long before Yujin goes completely ridgid tangling his clawed fingers in your scalp to further plant his crotch right against your face.』
『You could only process a deep hiss escaping your lover as your mouth was filled with nothing but his thick warm seed. He held your head in place and forcing you to savor every last drop of his cum that marinated your tastebuds. Yujin whined softly in protest at the thought of pulling away too soon.』
『The Hacker almost didn’t wanna pull out of your heavenly jaws at all but he still had his quota to fill. So with great reluctance he pulled out and look down at you with satisfaction. Brandishing a smile full of childlike chagrin as he sent you clutching for your pearls with his daunting words. Which hinted at the fact that you weren’t getting any sleep tonight.』
“Welp that’s one hole down baby only two more to go~ but this time I’mma fill ya up more than once since I gotta make sure that it all sticks mkay?”
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Reign down on me - Part 8
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Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)
No use of y/n or mention of gender/race
Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.
Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes
A/N: So this is kind of a Part 1 of a whole chapter because i wanted to give you guys something. So the next chapter will have a bit more going on, hope you enjoy this for now! Excited for any comments or theories you guys have about what's going to happen 💕
-🐺-
The major opened the door slowly and then gently closed it shut behind him, sparing a quick glance at you before he walked over to Price’s desk with only a few long strides. He was a tall man with gleaming shoes and a pristine uniform to match, his red hair combed back neatly on top of his head. You took in everything, your breathing almost slowed to a stop while you waited for the news. Only when he sat down at the uncomfortable wooden chair in front of Price did he speak. 
“Before I start, I want to say that I know you’re a busy man and that your team are integral to many ongoing operations that are running. However,” the major paused, his accent thickly weaving his words. “After the incident outside your hallway with Second Lieutenant Smith, I’m afraid to say that I must ask you to carve out some time for me.”
Price laughed at that. Not a warm chuckle or a dark little rumble, like you were used to hearing over comms or during training. This was one of disbelief, the little glinting breaths coming through like warning shots. 
“I’d hardly call that an incident, Major. A silly boy decided to test my hybrid and got exactly what he deserved. There ain’t much more to it,” Price grunted.
He straightened his back and leaned over his table, appearing every bit as menacing as you imagined he could be. The way his eyes appeared to darken below his tilted heavy brow were enough to send even you gulping - and you were the one he was defending. The Major didn’t seem to react however, he wasn’t cowed by the show, he merely sniffed and set his own arms on the desk. 
“Ordinarily I’d agree with ye, Price, you know I would. That wasn’t just any boy though, his da’s some parliamentary arsehole and he wants atonement.”
That gave Price pause.
You sucked in a breath and dug your fingers into the couch cushions, feeling the fabric strain and almost give way under your claws. The shaking started seconds later. You were going to be punished after all. 
Who would do the whipping, you wondered, I don’t want it to be any of the boys, definitely not Ghost. A small whine escaped your throat at  the thought of that before you could cram it down. Ghost was supposed to be safe. The idea that he’d be the one looming over you and raining down pain on your back left your throat feeling crushingly tight. 
“You’re not laying a finger on my wolf, do you hear me?” Price said, his voice so low he might as well have growled at the Major. 
His. The way he said it was so possessive compared to the way you normally heard that, the way that Ghost usually said it. Ghost’s good Pup. His sweet thing. Price said that you were his with all the ferocity of a wild animal. Like something was threatening to drag you off into the unknown. 
“Look I’m not gonna bullshit you here. I tried insisting on something like committed service hours, guard duty or sniffing - that sort of thing. He wasn’t going for it. The problem isn’t so much with what the hybrid did - it’s your Lieutenant he wants to prove a point to most of all. He wants Ghost to know he can’t get away with insulting his family.” 
“So what? He wants Ghost punished?” Price snorted, tilting his chin up in challenge. “You gonna string him up to the post and all are ya?”
The major sighed deeply and rubbed his brow. 
“No ones getting strung up, don’t jump to conclusions. He said that he wants the hybrid locked down for a week, they’re to be placed with the Smith boy’s squad and kenneled, only to be removed should a mission arise where the hybrid’s presence is essential…now, before you go thinking that you can conjure up some kind of week long escapade, he explicitly stated the sentence is to pause while away and resume on return.”
I’d rather be whipped bloody, you thought. The exact thing you were afraid of was coming to fruition. You were to be stripped of what you’d come to love and return to your old way of life, worse still was the thought that you didn’t even know what the kennels were like in your new base, didn’t know if they could extend your stay which would often happen at Branhaven. There was every chance you could be stuck with that horrible bastard indefinitely. Ghost had made a point of letting you know that he never intended on punishing you like that, that you wouldn’t while away your hours in a dingy cell block, or be made to face a post ever again. 
The memory of him settling his hand on your shoulder and squeezing ever so gently as he explained his approach to discipline was so strong, you almost felt his spirit lingering there beside you. He’d said he wouldn’t ever put you out in the cold or whip you unless his hand was forced, and even then he insisted he’d fight whoever threatened you. 
Would he fight a major? A politician?
“This is bullshit,” Price scoffed, smacking his hand off his desk and making you jump. “Hobbling my team because his little brat got slapped around is pathetic! What next? Would he like to bend Ghost over while he’s at it? Really, Major, this is a farce.”
“It is, aye. Exactly what happens when you tangle with those sorts, you know that as well as anyone though.”
Price’s face was the dictionary definition of scorn. You shrank back into the sofa, subconsciously trying to become a part of it and escape from all the tension. The major didn’t even wince through it. He faced Price with all the stoicism of a tree on a calm day, but Price continued to rant and plead your case until you thought his red face might start to turn purple. All the while you listened with quick little bursts of scared breath. 
The conversation didn’t go anywhere except against a dead end, ramming over and over into the same conclusion. The major grew tired of Price’s fit and walked out, saying that he’d expect you checked into the kennel’s by the end of the night. He let the threat of what would happen, should he fail to comply, linger somewhere above you - like an anvil - in the air. 
Price growled out a profanity as the door slammed closed. Only when the air had settled and the Major’s presence fully left did he turn to you and soften. His eyes, that had held so much venom, melted from slits and into doleful pools, his taught mouth slackened.
“Pup…” He sighed, looking you over.
He didn’t finish the sentiment. There was a wordless understanding between you both that he didn’t have the vocabulary for the sympathies he wanted to convey. With that quiet look of apology given he sighed out and pressed his head into his palms. 
“Fuckin’ shower of cunts the lot of em.”
Price hadn’t immediately given up of course. He picked up his phone and got to talking to numerous sources, but apparently none of them were of any use. You flinched back from where you were perched every time he hung up his phone with a bang. It almost made you feel sorry for the thing. No matter what arguments were made, no one was willing to hear Price out. That much was clear after he’d clattered down into his old chair like a shot bird. 
You had expected as much.
In the end it was you that convinced Price just to take you to the kennels. Making a point of stressing that it would be far better to go before Ghost could come back. Something within you shook at the idea of being put back into the same horrible place by the same man that had rescued you from there to begin with. At having Ghost have to take the responsibility on his shoulders, once more letting down a hybrid in his care. 
After being checked in and issued a bedroll, it was time to say your good nights. You stared at Price through the doorway of the kennel, biting your frayed lip. No matter what he said, you knew well enough that it was your own stupid stubborn fault that you were back there again - for not just acquiescing to the brat’s commands in the first place. Stunts like that were the exact reason that you had the disciplinary record that you did. Always going against anyone that wanted to shove you down, all in the name of some kind of renegade fantasy that you had any control over your life. Fiercely defending the shreds of your honour as if you hadn’t spent most of your life as a beaten dog. 
Stupid. 
At the very least though, conditions were far better than your old haunt at Branhaven. That was something, you tried to tell yourself. The shiny black sleeping bag they’d given you was plenty thick and there was a groaning old heater that rattled overhead, so that the nipping cold temperatures felt more like being left in a draughty room. Even the construction wasn’t as bad as the other ones, rubber crumb flooring like that of a playground, meant that you wouldn’t get as stiff and a hard fibreglass front over the concrete walls meant that you wouldn’t be exposed to the elements. It was almost possible to think of it like a stay at the worlds worst hotel, rather than a mandated stay in the kennels. 
It wasn’t home, but at least you knew that you’d get to return there as long as you listened and kept your stupid trap shut for once. Home with Ghost. Now that you’d calmed down after the initial shock of being issued the punishment, an internal clock had materialised in your head. The countdown to when you could go home. All you had to do was take your medicine and you could be with Ghost again, everything could go back to how it was. That thought alone was enough to keep the needling panic at the back of your mind firmly restrained there. 
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” Price said, his voice stony and rough. “I don’t wanna leave you here, Pup…I really don’t.”
“Don’t wanna leave me, or don’t wanna have to face Ghost and tell him I’m here?” You said, making an attempt to lift his heavy expression. 
He grunted something that could be interpreted as a bitter chuckle. 
“Neither.”
You smiled a little, but didn’t have it in you to laugh. At seeing your expression, he crossed the threshold between you both and closed his palm over your head. His roughened fingers skimmed over your ears and softly rubbed some of the worry out from deep within your tissue. A proper moment of reprieve settled over your body, loosening tight muscles, before you were forced to part again by the approaching footsteps of the guard.
“Sorry, Sir. I have to lock all the kennels up for the night for lights out,” he explained sheepishly, eyes not fully able to reach Price’s gaze.
Price nodded at him and went to comply, though only after giving you one last ruffle over the ears. He stepped back after and allowed the fibre glass door to snick to a close. Your heart thumped extra loudly while it shut. Price gave you one last mournful look and then told you to get some rest, assuring you that he’d be watching over you even from afar. 
“Good night, Price,” you whispered back, watching his retreating back with sorrow filled eyes.
The guard grunted and double checked the door, ensuring it was locked and rattling the mechanism a few times before he was satisfied. The soft click of metal on metal forced your ears to twitch upward into alert. 
“Get into your bedroll. Light’s out,” the guard said, his voice hardened now that your Captain was gone. “If you cause trouble or give me any crap you’ll be removed for discipline and then returned here. Do you understand?”
“Understood, Sir,” you nodded, unfurling the sleeping bag with a shiver.
The guard allowed you to sort your bedding and once inside the puffy roll of fabric he flicked the light switch and left you bathed in the darkness. He continued down the line from there, the only evidence of his presence, the fading lights down the line and the clicking of switches and doors. 
You whined softly while rubbing your face against the cold fabric below, blanching at the cold rubber flooring. Your heart lurched at the thought of your bed back home. The thought of your cushy blue pillows, Simon’s soft fur, the dialogue unread from the ‘Super-Wolf’ graphic novels by your bed, the smell of rotisserie chicken that was supposed to linger in the air, no where to be found in that sterile place. This was all wrong.
No matter what position you got in, no matter how hard you tried to shut your mind off and return to old coping mechanisms, the idea that you could be safely in your bed weighed on your chest like an elephant. Before you were used to being shoved into a kennel and forgotten about, but now you knew that there was a better life. A life that had been ripped from you.
You wanted to scream, wanted to claw your way out of the sleeping bag and slam yourself against the clear glass like a mad person, wanted to raise hell until you were returned to your rightful place. Though you never followed through. You had to be good now. It was the only thing that would get you home. 
Instead, you let your head loll to the back wall, facing the speckled brick and let loose the tears that you hadn’t wanted Price to have to witness again. Couldn’t have him thinking that you were completely pathetic afterall. The hot paths they left burned against your cold cheeks, though they still couldn’t compete with the heat that filled your aching chest. 
I’ll be with them again. Ghost won’t let me go. 
-🐺-
“Mum…I had a nightmare. The monsters want to take me away.”
Your little tail was pinned fast under your legs, your ears folded so close to your head you could feel the fibres of your hair even through your fur. Blinking back the tears from your eyes, you swallowed and looked up at her imploringly, hoping for a big cuddle just like the ones you’d seen her give to your older sister.
If she knew the meaning in your look, she didn’t show it. She groaned and got up from the couch, mumbling something under her breath before grabbing your wrist and shepherding you back to bed. The long dark corridors of your house seemed all the more haunting at night, the sounds of all the appliances ringing through the walls like wails. You shivered all the way back to your tiny room. Your mum’s iron grip may as well have been a shackle tugging you to prison. 
“Right, get back to sleep. You won’t have another nightmare after you’ve just had one.”
She turned the light on while you sorted yourself, impatiently hovering by the switch until you were lying back in bed and clinging the stuffed dog that your sister hadn’t wanted - had so graciously thrown at you one day - to your chest. His name was faint to you now, a shadow in your anxiety addled mind, what did you call him again? 
“Sleep tight,” she sighed, turning the light out and spiriting out the door. 
You blinked out through the darkness and sighed, curling into a little ball and trying your best to retreat from the leering shadows in the corner of the room. In that darkness your mind created faces, grinning horrible faces that wanted to gobble you up and turn you into mince. Just like the monsters from that horrible movie your dad had watched the night before, completely unaware that you had been hiding under the dining table, trying to avoid your mothers wrath for the milk that you’d spilled before bed.
“Monsters can’t get you here, sweetie,” you whispered to yourself, remembering the calming words you’d overheard in your sister’s room a few nights prior. “Nothing will get you when you’re safely tucked up…snug as a bug in a rug. You have your teddy to protect you, he’ll watch over you all night! Then in the morning everything will be fine again and the sun will be shining.”
The words didn’t seem to hold the same weight when you said them to yourself. They just rang hollow in the static. Perhaps they didn’t work the same since you were different, a half-breed ‘thing’ that no one asked for. Were you worth protecting? Would the sun shine for you in the morning?
-🐺-
“Hey, Pup. Oi. It’s ok, you’re alright. Easy…Easy”
You gulped in a hungry breath of air and opened your eyes, chest absolutely heaving as you fought off the last of the evil spirits that cackled and snapped at your extremities. In all your confusion between sleeping and waking, you couldn’t be sure if the arms that were wrapped around you were real, and if they were, you couldn’t be sure that they were friendly. 
When you whipped round and saw Gaz staring down at you with wide concerned eyes, you still questioned to yourself if you were in another layer of a dream. This couldn’t be right, you thought drowsily. 
“Gaz?” you mumbled, tilting your head when he smiled at you. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving you from the bogeyman apparently,” he smirked, ruffling your ears until you swatted his hands away. “That looked like a fuckin’ mental dream, mate.”
“No, Really - what are you doing here?”
You looked around, noting the wide open kennel door and the hazy blue sky beyond, a soft gradient of navy and electric blue sheeted over the fences and trees beyond. It couldn’t be any later than three, maybe four at a stretch. Your sleeping bag was tangled round your ankles and the heater had turned off, but other than that nothing had changed in the kennel. 
All was quiet on base, no cars whizzed by, barely any noise sounded through the crisp morning air. Sleep soon scratched at your eyes, forcing you to rub them and then embarrassingly let loose a high pitched whining yawn that had your face heating like a furnace in embarrassment.
“Aw, you are just a cute Pup, aren’t you?”
“Gaz!” you growled, trying to fix him with a stare serious enough that he would answer. 
It was no use though. He wasn’t Soap, so a little mean look did nothing to wipe the stupid smile of his smug face. Though he did relent when you growled, and when he noticed your darting looks round the opened gate, probably seeing that you were searching for the guard. At that point you’d suspected Gaz had to have stuffed him in a locker or something. 
“Relax, you can stop clutching your pearls. Price has a mission for us.”
“What?” you frowned, thoroughly doubtful, “Really? Right after I got kenneled, huh?”
“Genuinely,” He snorted, shaking his head. “I didn’t believe him at first either, but he wasn’t in the mood to piss about and explain himself. Cap said to come get you and load up ASAP, he’ll explain when we’re in the air.”
“We’re flying out?”
“Uh huh. Sooner the better too, can’t believe they made you spend a night in this place. What a fuckin’ joke.”
“Doesn’t feel like a joke to my back,” you ground out, wincing mid stretch when you felt a bone crack and heard the resulting sound. 
“Jesus. You keep making noises like that and they might retire you,” Gaz snorted.
“Ha ha,” you said dryly.
He gave you room to move away from him, allowing you to stand up before looking you over. It was almost comical seeing the way he searched you for any signs of harm, his calculating eyes narrowed as if he were looking for weapons. He paused a moment, only unfreezing when you raised your brows at him and quirked your lips. 
“You solid?” he asked.
“I think so. You?”
“It’s three in the morning and I’m freezing my arse out here instead of being passed out in bed - course I’m not,” he smirked.
You rolled your eyes and bumped into his side, happily strolling out of the kennel and out into freedom. One night down you, you thought, only six more to go until I get to go back to my bed. At the very least you were happy you wouldn’t have to go to that prick, Smith’s, unit for the day. More than having to be separated from Ghost, you feared what he would do to you while in his care. You strongly suspected he’d have more than a slap lined up for you at that point. 
Gaz lead you to the changing rooms before taking you to the chinook, handing you your gear and waiting on the squeaky wooden benches outside the shower block while you got ready. Then after taking the world’s quickest and coldest shower, trying miserably not to get your hair or fur wet, you stepped out to greet him with gritted teeth and soggy ears. If one thing was abundantly clear then, it was the fact that Ghost had utterly spoiled you. There was no way you could face a cold shower again without thinking about the bathroom at his.
“When I get to go back to Ghost I’m gonna live in that shower,” you huffed, teeth chattering while wrapping yourself up in the big cosy fleece that Ghost had given you a few days before. “I’m gonna stay in there until I turn into a prune and then I’ll make sure that Ghost cans me and traps all the warm condensation in.”
Gaz laughed while watching you lace `up your boots last. Your fingers were shaking still from the bone chilling cold that had seeped through your entire body. It was a wonder that you thankfully managed to finish changing without any help. As much as you had considered pathetically asking him to tie them for you, you werent sure if you could go on soldiering knowing that Gaz had to help you like you were some kind of baby. 
“Pup in a can sounds like a pretty good product. New kind of IED discovered, we can just start lobbing you at the enemy instead of wasting grenades.”
“Lobbing me?” You said in faux shock, flattening your drippy ears. “I can’t believe you would even suggest that.”
“What? It’s a pretty solid strategy, would work wonders if we were facing an army of Mactavishes.”
“Gaz!” You squawked, flinging your dirty shirt at him. “Mean!”
He batted it away easily and laughed with you. 
“Oh c’mon. Soap would laugh if he was here.”
“Pfft, Soap here? coming to the kennels? Fat chance.”
“Aw, I’m sure he’d do it for you. His little furball,” Gaz teased, ruffling your ears. “Our fuzzy wuzzy puppy.”
You huffed and shooed his hands away, growling when he went to mess with you again. Gaz didn’t flinch at that, but he did roll his eyes and move back to lean against the wall. He was graciously allowing you to put away the rest of your gear in peace so that you could move out. He grew quiet while you shoved your things into the soft green rucksack, and just as you’d clicked the clasp on your bag closed, he regarded you with a more considering look. 
“What?”
“What?” Gaz returned, folding his arms. 
You frowned. 
“You’re looking at me funny.”
“Maybe it’s cause you’re funny,” he shrugged. 
“Shame that you’re not,” you replied dryly. 
“Well shit. Mess with the wolf and you get the fangs, huh?”
“You know it, Garrick.”
-🐺-
The chinook was more comfortable than the kennel. That you figured out after your belly was filled with a fat bacon roll and you had Gaz’s shoulder to lean on. Your eyelids dripped like syrup, lashes fluttering as you listened to Price drone on about the mission over the shaky comms. 
“Pup, are you listening? Knew I shouldn’t have bloody given you breakfast first,” Price admonished. 
You slowly blinked back at him.
“I am,” you huffed out, straightening your back against the chair. “We got evidence of WMD’s in Lata, so we’re gonna go there and secure em with a team from Los Vaqueros forces.”
“Top marks,” Gaz chuckled, ruffling your ears. 
You rolled your eyes. 
“These ears ain’t for nothin’,” you said with a sly grin. 
“Those ears better stay alert,” Price grumbled. “I need you alive and well so Ghost doesn’t disembowel me on return.”
Your ears perked up at that, your body quickly straightening up all the way. In all your tiredness and confusion at being taken away, you’d hardly thought about how Ghost would’ve felt about you being seperated from him for the first time. 
“You spoke to him last night then?”
“Tried to,” Price snorted. “After I told him where you were he just about bowled me over trying to get to you. Managed to convince him to let you be, but he was a pain in my arse all night. He wants to speak to you later, so if you would please be careful today me and my neck would thank you.”
“Is he coming here?” You asked hopefully, tail raising in your excitement.
“Probably not. If all goes well we should be outta here in a few days to a week. He said to call once we finish up tonight though.”
Oh. As much as you tried to stop yourself from visibly deflating, there was little you could do to prevent yourself falling back against the chair with a huff. It had already been to long without him and it had only been a day. The thought of the growing distance only gnawed at you as you thought about it more. 
“Relax, Pup. You’ll be back home to Ghost before you know it,” Price hummed. “Just gotta get through this in one piece first.”
“Yeah…but that’ll only be after I finish up my time at the kennels,” you grumbled, fully sagging into Gaz in defeat. 
“We’ll see.”
You tilted your head at the Captain wondering what the hell he meant by that, and even though he saw your curious look he didn’t answer it. All he did was wink. Even when you begged him to elaborate he shook his head and tilted down his boonie hat, making it perfectly clear that the time for talking was done.
“You could use more sleep yourself,” Gaz said afterward, watching you in your confusion. “Don’t worry too much about the future right now, you barely got any sleep last night by the sounds of that dream you were having, so you’re not gonna be able to think straight. Rest your head on me and I’ll try and keep the nightmares at bay, ok? Gotta wake up fresh for the mission.”
You pursed your lips, heart beating like a frail bird in your chest. So many questions danced around you, but every thought was dimmed by the tiring heaviness that had refused to shake itself from your body from the moment you’d woken up.
Gaz was right, you did need more sleep. And curling up on him sounded like a dream. However when you looked up into his soft hazel eyes, a sudden wave of heat pulsed through you and gave you pause. He practically glowed in the emerging morning light. 
“You sure you want me cuddling up to you?” you asked, laughing breathily to cover up your nervousness.
“Only as long as you don’t tell Ghost,” he winked. “Wouldn’t want him to get jealous.”
You shoved him playfully at that, but soon settled down once Price barked out for you both to be quiet. Bodies going ridgid before slackening into each other. Your head drooped gently down onto Gaz’s shoulder and he let his cheek rest on top of your head. The warm rays of the morning blanketed you both in its gentle hold and in minutes you were sinking into a now peaceful sleep.
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princessbrunette · 6 months
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kinktober : oct 25th
modern!anakin x virginity loss
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god, he’d be so sweet on you.
always telling you that ‘it’s okay’ and that he ‘can wait’ even though you can feel his hard on pressing against your ass when you sit on his lap every time the two of you make out. he wanted to be careful, make you comfortable, find out what really makes you tick.
you’d been building slowly towards sex, starting with him rubbing you over your panties until you came one evening when he was sleeping at your house, a stuffed animal from your childhood digging into his spine as he crams himself into your bed, hand down your pyjama shorts cooing sweet nothings at you as you made a mess inside your cotton panties. it was the first time he’d touched you intimately at all, the movie the two of you were previously watching still playing on the screen, the only thing illuminating the room. “you feel that, pretty girl? can you tell me how it is? need t’hear some words, yeah?”
the next few times were strictly him still getting you off — dry humping with you on his lap, his back leaning up against the tree of an empty field one your picnic date. your sundress was bunched up around your waist, short gasps falling into his parted lips as you grind your pantie-clad crotch against the hard-on in his basketball shorts, whimpering and digging your nails into the material of his black tshirt. his snakebite piercing skims your lips when he talks. “its okay beautiful, make yourself feel good — know you need it.” a big warm hand stroking your clammy back.
you then graduated to riding his thigh a week later in his living room, anakin manspreading on his arm chair having placed his playstation controller to the side to attend to you when you’d given him the needy eyes and sweet pout telling him you were ‘thinking about last time’ in that innocent voice of yours. he’d talked you out of your panties this time, your skirt rumpled on the floor as you hump his sweatpants covered leg, naked from the waist down as he coaches you through it, more and more vocal each time he gets you off. “my needy girl, aren’t you? m’gonna have a problem on my hands if you can’t control yourself like this, aren’t I? what’s gonna happen when i’m not here for you to hump like a little puppy dog?” he tests the waters with his teasing, a giant grin on his face— noting the way you collapse against him with a pornographic moan when he does so.
the same evening, you couldn’t bare to blue-ball him any longer and begged him to let you give him a handjob atleast. it didn’t take much convincing, and not long after he’d calmed you from your orgasm, you were quickly pushing him towards his as you perch on his leg, staring at him with wide submissive eyes, listening to his every direction as you pump your wet hand up and down his shaft. he’d learnt by now how much praise effects you, and now he was gathering that you needed it just as much when you weren’t the one being pleased, rather doing the pleasing. “am i doing okay, ani?” you’d politely enquire, the hand that was resting on his own head would come down to stroke your cheek lazily, eyes on your hand. “yeah baby, my best girl. you wanna twist your hand a little for me? yeah just like that. maybe spit on it a little more. fuck, good fucking girl.” you really liked how he spoke when he felt good.
you’d come to him only two days later, shy and polite as ever asking to suck him off. “i read about how to do it good in cosmo.” you tell him proudly, albeit slightly naively as you flop down on your stomach on your bed, kicking your feet behind you as you converse with him casually. he chuckles from where he lounged against your headboard. “oh yeah? you a pro now?”
you nod with a happy ‘mhm’ which he finds adorable as he tilts his head a little, regarding you curiously. “my love, you’ve seen how big it is. i don’t know if you’re ready for that in your mouth. might choke.” he bites back another chuckle and you shake your head urgently, scrambling up on the bed to kneel right beside where he sat with wide eyes, ready to convince him.
“no way, my gag reflex is pretty good! i swear!” you plead and his gaze darkens just a touch, focused on your lips now.
“lets see. open up.” he lifts his hand, tapping your bottom lip with his two fingers. you don’t question it, welcoming his fingers into your mouth until they’re pushing deeper and your brows are furrowing, watery eyes fighting the urge to roll back as you stare at him. he’s grinning now, feeling his dick chub up a little in his sweatpants. “uh-huh.” he proves as you gag a little.
you grasp his wrist, blinking away your tears as you press a kiss to the tips of his stiffened fingers when he pulls them out, holding his hand there as you stare up at him desperately. “let me try, please?”
and how can he say no when you ask so nicely? of course, he lets you suck and lick on him to your hearts content, being the perfect teacher until he’s giving you the first real taste you’ve ever had of him.
a week later, he finally gets to finger you — properly.
you’re snuggled into him, open mouth panting into his neck as he scissors two fingers inside you. “oh god, ani.” you sob as if it hurts and he shushes you, puckered lips pressing to your temple and spare hand rubbing your back.
“baby, y’keep begging me to fuck you but you can’t even take these fingers. you want it or not, hm?” he cooes gently as if he isn’t ever so slightly humiliating you.
“m’trying!” you hiccup.
“and you’re doing so good for me.”
finally, after a few weeks of combining all that you’ve learnt from anakin — you can’t wait any longer, and neither can he. with you laid out naked before him, he caresses your cheek.
“is it gonna hurt, do you think?” you ask, and he scratches behind your ear.
“it shouldnt, you’re so good at taking my fingers now aren’t you? think i got you nice and ready.” he explains as you nuzzle into his palm for comfort.
his tip nudges at your entrance and you’re already mewling. “you ready for me, pretty? you gonna tell me if you wanna stop?”
“yes ani, please!” your manicure digs into his tattooed shoulders.
he’s so good with you, hissing through his teeth when he gets all the way in, kissing away your shocked expression at how deep he feels. he has the patience of a saint, hands stroking your skin and soothing you until your hips are writhing against his, begging for him to fuck you. “look at you, you proud of yourself, sweet girl? getting fucked by your boyfriend, just like you wanted. gonna take it nice and slow, yeah?” he huffs, practicing self restraint.
it’s not often you can make someone cum the first time you fuck them, let alone cum as hard as anakin makes you — but by the time he’s done, your legs are shaking and you’re limp, only able to be scooped up into his arms and held, his hoarse voice shushing your weak whimpers as you jerk from the aftershocks.
“did so good. so good.”
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scenezfreak · 3 months
Note
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASSEEGEHEH WRITE EJ X READER WHERE HE’S VERY ANIMALISTIC AND NEEDY AND PRACTICALLY BEGGING TO TAKE YOU YK THE REST 🤭‼️
- ur best friend 🫶
A/N: LMAO of course I will, love 🫶🏻
- TUMBLR KICKED ME OUT AND I LOST ALL PROGRESS SO I HAVE TO WRITE THIS AGAIN FROM MEMORY SO IM SORRY IF ITS KIND OF SHORT, I TRIED TO CRAM IN EVERYTHING I COULD REMEMBER 🙏😭 (Ngl I actually cried)
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“Touch me too..please”
Eyeless Jack x fem!Reader
Warnings: Needy and Feral EJ, creampie, squirting, possessive EJ, EJ growling, cockwarming at the end
NOT PROOF READ, MINORS DNI
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Jack had always had animalistic tendencies such as mating instincts and a mating season. It’s much less brutal now that you’ve came into his life. Speaking of which..his mating instincts finally kicked in and you weren’t there to help him.
-
You fumbled with your keys, trying to unlock the front door. You opened the door and shut it behind you and called out “I’m home!” ..no reply. You brows furrowed in concern. You set your things down and went to go look for Jack. He wasn’t in the kitchen nor was he in the living room. You walked to your room and opened the door. The sight infront of you almost had your legs give out infront of you.
Jack was sitting down fisting his cock while smelling a pair of your…used underwear? His mask was off and you could see his fangs biting his bottom lip. Your recent concerns completely disappeared and you shivered. He didn’t hear you come in, too lost in the feeling. That is until you cleared your throat. “Jack?” You asked, he quickly looked your way. His cheeks were flushed and he threw the underwear he had in his hands to the side and got up. He immediately hugged you and you smiled, feeling him kiss your neck.
“I need you so bad..” he whimpered. You hummed, “Really? Because to me it looked like you had it covered.” He immediately pulled back upon hearing your words. “No no hey- please..I was waiting for you…” he rested his forehead against yours. “It didn’t help at all..it only works when you help me.” You smiled, “I was joking, baby. Of course I’ll help you.” He excitedly kissed you and you reciprocated. You knew he needed you by the way he was slowly rubbing his cock against you the whole time.
He quickly made work of getting you two to the bed. He helped you out of your clothes before undressing himself. He was so nice and gentle laying you down on the bed and getting on top of you. He kissed your neck and down to your breasts. He looked up at you for approval. You nodded and he wasted no time sucking your nipple, his hand coming up to rub the other one. You moaned and arched your back, leaning into his touch. The hand that was on your nipple slid down to your thigh. You felt him gently rub your thigh and then rub your inner thigh, getting closer to your cunt.
He stopped sucking and leaned back to look at how wet he made you. His fingers made their way to your clit and started rubbing in slow circles. You jolted a bit and moaned, your hole clenched around nothing. Your noises spurred him on and he rubbed faster. He leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “Touch me too..please” you couldn’t say no to his needy voice. Your hand came up to slide down his torso and stop above his happy trail. You always loved teasing him by slowly tracing a finger down his happy trail and stopping just above the base of his aching cock.
He shuddered and let out a shaky sigh, “Fuck y/n..” In the blink of an eye he positioned himself between your legs, sliding his cock up and down your wetness. “Can..can I fuck you?” He asked, you replied “yes- please..I need you so bad Jack.” He quickly pushed the head of his cock into you. He was pretty big in girth and it always stretched you out and made you feel good. He was smart, he knew all the ways to fuck you to make you a mess. He made you his mess.
He groaned, feeling your walls clamp down on him. Once he was fully inside he let you adjust, opting to lean down and kiss you. His tongue was weirdly long but you didn’t mind, honestly it made everything feel 10x better. “You can move now..” you moved your hips a bit. He nodded silently and pulled out before pushing back in. Soon he quickly sped up, his grip on your his was almost bruising. He kissed and sucked your breasts, the feeling of him moaning sent shivers down your spine. He angled his hips upwards, his cock immediately hit your g-spot causing you to dig your nails into his back. He smirked and continued to attack that spot. Before you knew it you were cumming around his cock, he let out a loud moan when he felt you cum.
He continued to fuck into you. “I-Jack wait! ‘s too much-“ your words were cut off by him moving you into a mating press. “Need more of you..need to mark you as mine.” His voice was low. His pace quickened significantly, your brain function being completely thrown out of the window. “Fuckk jack!” You moaned. He loved how much bigger he was than you, he loved your scent, he loved your personality, he loved you. Something In him seemed to snap, his grip on the back of your thighs got harder and he fucked you harder. You could tell he was close because of the way his cock twitched inside of you. His moaning soon turned into growling, he’s gone full animalistic, you could hear him repeat under his breath and in between his moans and growls “mine, mine, mine.”
Your orgasm hit you hard and you practically screamed his name, your cum squirted on him, your brain was mush by this point and you couldn’t think about anything but him. He came not long after you did, his warm cum filled you up. Some even dripping out because he was fucking you through both of your highs. His cum was thick and it always felt amazing inside of you. His hips stilled and you both were heaving, gasping for air. You could feel that he was still hard inside of you. He caught his breath and slowly bucked his hips. You let out a whine. His pace returned to his fast paced one. Jack had a lot of stamina, especially when it was during his mating season…this was going to be a looong night.
-
You slowly opened your eyes and looked around, your body ached and despite just waking up you still felt tired. You looked around, you noticed Jack was clinging onto you like you were his life support. He was fast asleep and you smiled, brushing some hair out of his face, you turned to hug him back. You kissed him on the forehead and closed your eyes. ..wait a minute…
He was still inside of you..
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grimesgirll · 1 month
Text
“good fucking girl.”
is definitely not something rick should be saying to his best friend’s girlfriend - especially not with his cock halfway down her throat.
the moment shane had stepped out for a run with glenn and michonne, you and rick were all over each other. you couldn’t handle sneaking into rick’s bed down the hall anymore. you were bound to end up in his lap on the sectional, pawing at him like a bitch in heat.
it’s not that shane didn’t fuck you; he took every chance he got. you’re just enamored with rick. ever since your boyfriend had “shared” you with his fellow officer, rick had been on your mind.
the way his brown constable’s jacket fit against his muscles when they flexed. the glint of his chocolate curls. how good he is with judith.
rick gets you goin’ in a way shane hasn’t for quite some time. he was right when he got you down on your knees back at the rest stop. you did look at rick like you wanted to drain him and then have him bend you over and fuck you silly - and that’s what ended up happening.
ever since that day, shane got off on toying with you and having you sit on rick’s cock in addition to his own. he uttered excuses about the stresses of their new duties as constable but you just slid down your denim skort and squealed the occasion away.
you’re quiet now, nice and muffled on rick’s dick as you swallow around him. the motion has him twitching in your mouth. wanting to finish off inside of you for the night, the thick length in your mouth is withdrawing and suddenly you’re in that familiar face down position again.
“so wet, baby,” rick remarks in awe as his length brushes your slippery entrance.
you’re squeezing your thighs together - trapping him between the pillowy soft surfaces. “rick,” you cry. “c’mon, already.”
“what’d we say?”
you swallow, a tear from how needy you are sliding down your cheek. “please, sir.”
you could care less if shane walked in right now. as long as rick keeps driving his hips into yours and breathing your name like a prayer, you’ll be content. content to get fucked silly by the man before he takes you in his arms and spends the night with a hand on your waist and his nose buried in your hair.
that’s after though.
now, you’re being nearly fucked up the couch.
rick’s just enjoying the way your sweet little cunt grips him like it needs him. the little thing sucks him in even better than your mouth.
and you’re a whole other story. sweat sticking to your glistening forehead, you’re babbling incoherent thoughts, strung out on the cock molding you to his shape.
your slick is pooling around rick like he’s in the fucking atlantic. so close to losing it all over him already, you’re making an absolute mess of the couch that you’ll have to resolve before shane gets home. don’t want him suffering from any fear of missing out.
the man is swept from your mind when rick absolutely crams his cock inside of your clinging cunt. the kiss to your cervix is enough for you to start seeing spots around the older man making you take his cock so well.
every time you park your pussy on rick’s thick dick and come, you ground down, grasp his hand, do anything to get as close as possible. feeling him to skin to skin is second only to feeling him fill you up. the filthy praises coming from his lips come close as well.
“fuck, baby, so nice and tight. you want me to come inside you, huh? have shane come home to this pussy all messy?”
you’re shaking your head like you have any idea what you’re asking for. “yes, rick! i want you to make a mess of my pussy.”
“then come all over this cock, honey.”
“mhmm, rick, i-,”
“that’s it.”
“i love how deep you are, rick-,” you’re bumbling like an idiot and muttering a string of “i love you”s as the dam bursts and you come undone on rick’s cock.
the pulsing warmth beneath you is accompanied by a husky, “i love you too,” and a chorus of your name into your shoulder as rick used his horsecock to fuck you two through your climaxes.
the friction on your clit heightens the heat surrounding you and flooding into you from rick. you’re almost overwhelmed by the bruising kisses rick purples onto your neck as he gathers you on top of him.
“you did so good, honey,” he’s praising you and you’re just nodding, humming, “thank you”s and “i know”s until he’s bear hugging you again. the way he nuzzles into your neck from behind and exhales into your hair is enough for you to forget trudging up to bed and drift off into rick’s touch right there.
you’re already asleep in his arms but he takes the time to stroke your hair and kiss up and down your temples. god, he loves getting this time with you to himself - even if you’re asleep.
with you pressed against him and your heartbeat thrumming, the world is still and rick realizes something - he’s never letting you go.
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gimmethatagustd · 1 year
Text
who's your bias? | kth
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Everyone says idols shouldn’t date their fans. Little did you know the crazy sasaengs aren't the ones who might ruin your relationship. It might just be your boyfriend's best friends.
» pairing: idol!taehyung x music producer girlfriend!reader
» genre: BTS | 18+ | idol au | established relationship | fluffy smut | lil bit of angst | an attempt at army-specific humor
» wc/date: 12.6k | January 2023
» warnings: canon divergent (i'm just making shit up y'all, as usual) | jealousy | relationship insecurity | reader might seem annoying at first but i swear it gets cute very quickly | tae enjoys using terms of endearment | soft!dom tae | finger sucking | thigh riding | tae's got a Big Dick, but what else is new? | blowjob | fingering | unprotected vaginal sex | overstimulation | a breeding kink is ~hinted at~ | cunnilingus | yoonmin4ever
» notes: this was entirely self-indulgent 😂 i hope my taehyung whores enjoy my first idol au oneshot. also i wrote 80% of this while i was high and with no beta so if it's bad, now you know why
» masterlist | ao3 | join my taglist
» what was jai listening to? impatient - jeremih ft. ty dolla $ign
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“Y/N, stop it right now.” 
Your boyfriend breathes the command faster than you can even open your mouth to greet him. With a roll of your eyes, you put your phone on speaker and sit it on the floor beside you. Rummaging through the cardboard boxes littering your apartment is easier done with both hands. 
“Why hello, Taehyung. What a pleasure to hear from you.”
“Are you seriously mad at me right now?” From the whine in his voice you’re positive he’s wearing a deep pout, bottom lip jutting out as far as it can. You love kissing his pouts away. 
But not this time! And not just because you’re on opposite sides of the world. 
“Shouldn’t you be asleep? It’s so late there and I’m sure you’re very tired from displaying your dick to all of America for three hours.” 
The cardboard box in front of you has “BEDROOM” scribbled in your father’s handwriting on the side in thick, black Sharpie. It’s full of little trinkets and random decor. A Shooky plushie is crammed into the corner in between a cracked Army bomb and a small framed photo of you with your parents. You smile to yourself despite your boyfriend’s huffing over the phone. Your father had given you a strange look as he helped you pack the items as if to ask, Really? Do you really need these? 
Just because you’re dating a member of BTS now doesn’t mean you can’t cherish your old BTS merch! It’s not weird, in your opinion. It would only be weird if you made it weird. And you weren’t making it weird. 
“I did not display my dick!” 
You roll your eyes for probably the fifth time while you ponder where to put Shooky. You'd kept it on your dresser in your old home in the States. Something tells you Taehyung won’t appreciate the lack of a Tata beside it. 
“You were thrusting and throwing it around! And pointing at it while doing it, too!” 
“Y/N!” 
“Don’t Y/N me! I have my TikTok evidence!” 
With your cracked Army bomb in hand, you open the app in question, scrolling through your favorited videos until you get to the one. The one uploaded only a day before. The one you’d texted to Taehyung which prompted his immediate phone call. 
“And what does the caption say?” you ask but then cut Taehyung off before he can answer the question. “It says, and I quote, ‘I will never forget Taehyung doing this. I looped this for hours. Kim Taehyung lives in my head rent-free.’ Hashtag Taehyung. Hashtag HipsDon’tLie. With the woozy face emoji. And do we need to discuss the music choice?” 
“Y/N, can you please-” 
“Slut Me Out,” you deadpan in a monotone voice. “That is the song they chose for you.”
The other end is silent for so long you start to feel bad. Every time your jealousy spikes, you seem to act on impulse rather than thinking through how you might make Taehyung feel. Yes, he sometimes plays his part in the group a little too well, but you also knew that this was his job. It’s his job to make people get excited - excited for the music, the group, and himself as an idol. 
Still, your opinion is the most important to him, and you know that. 
“Jagiya…” Taehyung sniffles and you feel your heart shatter. 
Fuck, you really are a bitch, aren’t you? 
“Tae, I’m sorry.” 
“No, I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know, I didn’t really think anything of it. It’s just an act, y’know?” 
You did know. Away from the stage and the cameras, Taehyung is quiet, almost shy. He’s happy to be a silent observer of whatever chaos his members create. He gifts everyone with puffy cheeks and boxy grins, sometimes a boisterous laugh that manages to make your heart soar every time. But the soft-spoken soul you listen to old school R&B with while you smoke strawberry swisher blunts on the balcony late into the night, and convince that yes, the apartment is soundly built and no, the balcony will not randomly fall out beneath you… That person is different from the person you see wearing a resting bitch face in interviews or the person who chews away at imaginary gum during concerts. 
You find all versions of Taehyung endearing, although the fake gum chewing is kind of embarrassing if you wanted to be perfectly honest. 
“I know, Tae. I’m sorry I’m being judgmental for no reason,” you insist and you hope he believes you. Complaints about his idol status typically resulted in red eyes and sniffles, yet sometimes you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing his pressure points despite his sensitivity.  
Your apology puts Taehyung in a better mood because his following comment is cheekier than you expect. 
“You get jealous a lot, jagi.” His smug tone is close to bringing back your irritation. 
“I am not jealous of some fans in a stadium, thanks.” 
“Good,” he says more cheerfully. “‘Cause I only have sights for you.” 
That makes you laugh and you feel your earlier heaviness disappear. “You mean, you only have eyes for me?” 
“Isn’t that what I said?” 
You shake your head as if Taehyung can see you. A few photo strips are beneath Shooky in the cardboard box. You silently curse your father (respectfully and endearingly) for casually placing something so fragile in the bottom of a box. The photos are of you and Taehyung in a photo booth at a birthday party for an idol you didn’t know. An actor, you think. You thumb at one of the corners of the photo strip that has curled inward. Taehyung’s hair was straight then, and short, falling just above his ears. You much prefer the thick waves he wears now. 
“You’re so cute.” 
“Only for you.” 
“Oh shut up, now you’re being corny.” 
You’re not sure why, but you try to suppress the smile Taehyung’s light flirting coaxes out of you, even though he can’t see you. Accepting his teasing affection has always been hard for you. All the boys are too caring; it makes you uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. You’re just not used to men acting like that. They’re all very different from the men you’ve been around growing up. There’s a reason Taehyung can’t listen to you talk about your ex-boyfriends without getting pissed. 
“Mmm, maybe. I’m also sleepy,” Taehyung slurs. His voice is so soft you almost can’t hear him, so you lift your phone to your ear rather than use the speaker setting. The smoothness feels like a lullaby gentle enough to carry you to sleep, even though it’s still daylight in Seoul. 
“Goodnight, Kim.” You decide for him, knowing he would stay on the phone if you let him. 
Confirming your thoughts, Taehyung grumbles when he speaks next. “I love you, jagi.” 
“I love you, too.” People always talk about the “honeymoon phase” when the butterflies disappear and couples no longer feel the exciting draw toward each other anymore. It’s been less than a year since you started dating Taehyung, but you’re confident that your heart will always flutter when you hear those three words so confidently spoken. Taehyung had been the first to say it; something about that makes you even more sure of your relationship. 
“Can’t wait to see you soon so I can slut you out.” 
“... please go to bed and never say that ever again.” 
In the distance, you hear someone start yelling. The noise is accompanied by a rather aggressive ruffling sound, as though Taehyung’s phone is being rubbed against fabric. 
“Are you two having phone sex?” The second voice accuses, this time sounding much clearer. 
“Hyung, leave me alone,” Taehyung whines. “Y/N, tell him to go away.” 
You let out a long sigh, but the grin finally cuts through the hardened expression you try to maintain. “Goodnight, Jimin.” 
It sounds like the two boys start physically fighting each other before Taehyung lets out a breathy, “Goodnight, baby,” accompanied by Jimin screeching something you can’t understand before the call ends. 
With a shake of your head, you leave your phone on the floor and get up to position Shooky and your Army bomb on your dresser. You’ll figure out what to do with it later, you decide.
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Later ends up being three more days of you giving a half-assed attempt to sort through the boxes. Your bedroom is mostly organized by the end of the week with only one more box remaining, shoved into the corner of the room. It’s a bunch of family keepsakes that will make you cry if you start looking at them. 
Right now you want to make a beeline to the kitchen. 
It’s hard not to trip over all the boxes that litter your apartment, most of them already torn open and half-empty. The kitchen hasn’t been fully unpacked, either, so you opt for instant ramen in the microwave rather than dig for utensils to cook a proper meal. It’s pretty bad. You and Taehyung are a terrible match; you both have no idea how to cook. There’s no point in all the fancy kitchenware your parents bought you. You’ll never master any of it. It’s not because you don’t put in any effort, like Taehyung. You’re genuinely shit at cooking. 
And baking? That’s even worse. 
You stand in the middle of your living room while you shovel ramen in your mouth. It’s too hot, so you inhale loudly through your teeth to cool the food off before it scorches your throat. There’s so much you need to do, and it’s making you nauseous thinking about it. Somewhere in the mix of boxes are your Hangeul textbooks that you should be studying in your free time instead of playing video games and video chatting with your friends. It’s only been a week and a half, but you already feel lonely without the constant presence of your friends and family. The boys have been on tour the entire time. Namjoon decided you moving to Seoul while they’re on tour would make your arrival less suspicious, and everyone would be more focused on the tour than whatever an unknown American music producer is doing. 
In your opinion, Namjoon was overthinking the whole thing as he is wont to do. But you let him be bossy because you know his heart is in the right place. It’s not like the public knows you’re dating Taehyung. There hasn’t been any press or rumors about you at all. You’re genuinely unknown.
You prefer it that way. 
Your fork scrapes the bottom of the bowl and you realize you’ve scarfed down the ramen without much thought. You suppose it’s easier to do that when you aren’t using chopsticks. (You’ve managed to master them, for the most part, but you prefer to fall back on forks when you’re alone at home.) 
You place the bowl on top of the large cardboard box in front of the couch. It has the pieces for your coffee table inside, but you haven’t had the energy to put it together yet. The part of you that allows your feminism to leave your body whenever the boys are around is kind of hoping you can get one of them to build it for you. Maybe Yoongi. He’s into that kind of stuff. 
With a sigh, you flop onto the couch and slip your phone out of your back pocket. A few Whatsapp and KakaoTalk notifications light up the screen. You used to be terrible at responding to texts, but moving halfway across the world has made you a better texter. It’s a way to fill the loneliness. 
[Alex] hey bitch
[Alex] this 15 hour time difference sucks ass
[You] I’m sorry 
[Alex] its fine. i’ll forgive you for chasing money and dick
[You] I’m not chasing dick omg
[Alex] dont lie
[Alex] whats that tiffany pollard meme
[You] Stop
[Alex] i know his dick is big. i know it! i know it’s big!
[You] I hate you
[Alex] you didnt deny it. anywayyy did you see this? 
As much as you adore Alex, she’s an expert at getting under your skin. You remind yourself that it’s all harmless as you click on the link she texts you. 
BTS' V woos fans with his casual rockstar visuals on his return from world tour
Kim Taehyung, also known professionally as V of BTS, was spotted at John F. Kennedy International Airport on Friday. The singer is reportedly returning early to South Korea ahead of his band members after completing the final performance of their…   
You don’t know why you read the shitty k-pop tabloids. You figure it’s the same reason why people make a hobby out of watching bad movies. There’s a weird itch in the back of your brain that can’t be scratched unless you open the link Alex texts you— teasingly, of course, because she thinks she’s being funny. Your friends don’t understand the nauseous feeling you get when you scroll through the article and accidentally click on a link that takes you to an external website flaunting doctored photos of your boyfriend with Jennie Kim. 
BTS’ V and BLACKPINK’s Jennie Spend Romantic Weekend in Paris 
You know it’s a lie because the weekend in question was the same weekend Taehyung flew you to Seoul to do a final walkthrough of your apartment before you signed off on it. Taehyung spent every second of that weekend by your side. 
The article makes you sick anyway. 
You’re so caught up in trying to craft a text to Alex to explain why she needs to leave you the fuck alone that you don’t hear the sound of your apartment’s front door open over the music you’re listening to. 
“I’m gone for a few months and I come home to you listening to some other band?” 
“Holy shit, Tae, you can’t do that to me,” you yelp when Taehyung leans over the back of the couch to hover over your shoulder. 
“Explain yourself.” His voice is warm honey and milk even when his strong eyebrows point downward in mock disappointment. The expression is almost convincing, his naturally sharp features making conjuring up a dark appearance easier. 
“You can’t tell me Stray Kids’ new album isn’t good.” 
“Jagiya, I just got home,” Taehyung whines. “Kiss me and stop thirsting over Australian boys.” 
He touches your chin to tip your head backward. You lean your head against the back of the couch and look up at him. The position makes you think of the iconic Spiderman kiss, seeing Taehyung’s face upside down above yours. 
“Y’know, I worked on a few of their songs. Before I met you.” 
The confession is meant to tease him for making fun of your music choice. Of course, words’ impact often diverges from intent. It’s in the twist of his face and the way he pulls back slightly just before his lips brush against yours that you know you’ve made him jealous. 
“Oh did you?” His hair hangs around his face as he leans over you.
“Mhm, Bang Chan’s accent is really cu—” 
You shouldn’t be shocked when strong hands squeeze your waist and Taehyung hauls you off the couch to stand in front of him. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you tightly against his chest. 
“You didn’t work with any other groups before us, okay?” 
You purse your lips to hold in the laughter that threatens to explode from your chest. All you can do is nod in agreement. It reminds you of girls getting upset when they remember their boyfriends dated other people before them. 
“Good.” 
Taehyung dips his head down to connect his lips with yours. The closeness of his body forces you to inhale his cologne and feel goosebumps travel down your arms. It’s been months since you’ve so much as held Taehyung’s hand and you feel like you’ve been starved. Your body trembles so severely that you dig your nails into his biceps to hold yourself upright. You moan into his mouth, already open and ready for you because Taehyung is nothing but giving. 
The kiss isn’t bruising, not yet. It’s slow and deep. Taehyung takes his time reminding himself of your taste. You grip the nape of his neck to pull him down as you meet him by standing on your tiptoes. His height has always been one of your favorite aspects of his physical appearance. Dark, watchful eyes that pierce into your soul might be at the top of the list. 
His tongue swirls around yours, only retreating to suck your bottom lip into his mouth. His teeth graze along the plump skin, each nibble making you dizzy in the head. You normally hate wet kisses, but there’s something satisfying about seeing Taehyung’s lips pink and shiny with your spit when he finally pulls away. Pride thrums in your chest; you did that. You made his tan skin flush pink. You made his eyes dark and sharp. You made his breathing ragged and desperate. 
And, fuck, does it feel good. 
You run your fingers along his sharp jawline and watch the muscles flex beneath his taunt skin. “Don’t clench your jaw like that. It’s not good for you,” you muse, allowing your fingers to skim over his Adam’s apple. 
“I’m trying to stay calm.” 
Your eyebrows fly up with concern. “What’s wrong?” 
“Wanna bend you over the couch and fuck you until you can’t walk,” Taehyung says with such a gentle tone that the stark difference between what he says and how he says it has your body trembling once again. 
You inhale sharply and let your hand fall from his throat. Instead, you reach for the lapels of his leather jacket and squeeze them. 
“Why don’t you?” 
You can’t look at him when you ask. Even though you’ve been dating for almost a year, Taehyung still intimidates the hell out of you sometimes. The darkness of his eyes when he gets horny sends you reeling. You’re sure if you look up, you’ll see The Look. He stares at you unabashedly with an expression of desire so strong you feel like he might consume you just by looking at you.
“You haven’t eaten yet and I need to take a shower.” 
“How do you know I haven’t eaten yet?” With a pout, you finally dare to look your boyfriend in the face. The way he gapes at you is judgmental and doesn’t make you feel devour-worthy at all. 
“I know you,” he scoffs. “You’re just like Jimin. I bet you haven’t even been awake more than two hours.” 
Barely a year into your relationship and he’s already reading you like an open book. You can’t stay salty about it when his bread cheeks come out and he’s giggling at the frustrated “hmph” you let out. 
“I’ll be fast,” he promises with a smirk that collapses into another fit of giggles. The hearty slap on your ass encourages you toward the kitchen while Taehyung makes his way to the bathroom. 
You did already eat, but today is an outlier. Normally, you are like Jimin, staying up too late and sleeping in longer than everyone else. And sometimes you’re like Yoongi, too. You get so caught up in the songs you’re working on that you forget to stop to eat or pee or look somewhere other than at a computer screen. 
The move to Seoul threw you off your usual work schedule. Everything you need to get done is looming over your head like a dark cloud. If Namjoon comes back before you finish editing the English lyrics of his upcoming single, you might die of embarrassment, no matter how many times Taehyung insists that Namjoon won’t be disappointed. 
Taehyung wasn’t lying about being quick. He’s wearing a white cotton t-shirt and grey sweatpants when he returns, hair damp and swept away from his face. You’re still standing at the fridge, painfully aware of how little food you have. Plenty of grapefruit soju, though. Priorities. 
“Do you want ramen?” You eventually ask. When Taehyung doesn’t respond, you turn to give him a sheepish smile. He probably thinks you’re ridiculous. 
Taehyung is sitting at the kitchen table with your phone in his hands. His eyebrows scrunch together and he turns to you with narrowed eyes. 
“Why were you looking at this?” 
He lifts your phone in your direction. The doctored photos of him and Jennie glare back at you. You feel your heart drop into the pit of your stomach.  
“Tae, I didn’t—” You snap your mouth shut because, honestly, it looks bad. It looks bad no matter how you explain yourself because Taehyung’s bottom lip is already quivering and you know you’re both replaying the stupid TikTok phone call in your heads right now. 
The two of you stare at each other for only god knows how long. You’re the first to break; not many people can hold their own in a staring contest with Kim Taehyung. Yoongi is probably the only one. Jungkook would give a valiant effort, but he’d ultimately crumble in a fit of nervous giggles. Taehyung is scary when he wants to be. 
Dating Taehyung started as an unbelievably exciting experience. You had your brush with fame before meeting the boys, but Taehyung was the first idol to give you genuine attention beyond whatever job needed to be done. Not that you’d ever sought it out; you had more dignity than that. No, Taehyung pursued you. Who could blame you when you fell head over heels for the sinfully gorgeous man who seemed larger than life? The long legs, big hands, and chiseled features were dangerous enough. Throw in a glowing personality, quirky sense of humor, and a big-hearted desire to care for others and you had a man who was too good to be true. 
And who are you? Some dumb American kid with average looks, a standoff personality as a result of having a bit of social anxiety (and trouble acclimating to a new country), and a penchant for fucking things up. Maybe it was your fault for not seriously considering how hard it was going to be to date an idol.  
“C’mere, jagi,” Taehyung murmurs, beckoning you. 
You expected waterworks— hell, you’re ready to start crying yourself. Instead, Taehyung wears a tired but soft smile. He holds your waist as you climb into his lap, straddling him. He wiggles a little in the chair to adjust you more comfortably on his thighs. 
“Koreaboo, really?” He gathers your face in his hands, thumbs running across your cheeks. His hands are soft and you regret not washing your face when you woke up. Sometimes it’s not fun to date someone as beautiful as Taehyung. 
“It was an accident.” 
You avoid his gaze, but Taehyung coaxes you back to look him in the eyes. It’s hard. There’s so much passion swimming in them. He blinks up at you with an earnestness that makes your heart ache because you’re always the one causing problems. 
“They could have at least used better pictures of me,” he complains with an exaggerated pout. 
“Maybe I’ll send them some from my private collection.” 
“You wouldn’t dare.” Taehyung grins as he threatens you, so you grin back. 
“Oh, I dare.” 
Quick fingers dig into your sides and you let out an embarrassing squeal. Taehyung doesn’t let up on tickling you until you’ve got tears in your eyes and your threats to elbow him in the face start sounding a bit too real. 
“Please don’t torture yourself with shit like that, okay?” He mumbles the request into your neck because your arms are thrown around his shoulders. 
You slide your fingers into his hair to cradle his head against your chest. When you dig your nails into his scalp he lets out a low groan. Nothing about the position you’re in is sexual, but you’re quickly reminded that this is the most skin-on-skin contact you’ve had with your boyfriend in months. With that fact in mind, you don’t feel bad when you scoot further into his lap and squeeze his thighs with your own. 
“Tae?” 
“Hmm?” When he tilts his head back to look up at you, he’s got that spacey, blissed-out look on his face. 
“Tell me you love me.” You place your finger against the little freckle on the tip of his nose.
The slow, boxy grin is almost better than hearing the words. Your finger migrates to touch the freckle on his lip. 
“I love you with all my heart.” He punctuates the confession with a kiss on the tip of your finger. “Your turn.” 
You roll your eyes, but it’s the reaction he’s looking for. 
“I love you, too. You dork.” 
“So romantic,” he laughs, but the amusement doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he watches you with lust darker than what consumed his expression earlier. 
You sit with your breath burning in your lungs as Taehyung slips his hands beneath your baggy t-shirt. His smooth palms slide up your rib cage until he reaches your tits, palming one in each hand. The tilt of his chin tells you he wants another kiss, and who are you to deny him what he wants? You dig your nails in his hair harder while you kiss him, tugging to angle his head in the direction you want. Small moments like this give the appearance that you’re in control. And Taehyung loves domming while you both pretend you’re the one in charge.
He pulls back with a wet smack. If it was anyone else, you’d be ashamed of the whimper that sounds from your throat as Taehyung removes his hands from your shirt. You grip his hair tighter, but Taehyung just chuckles. 
“So needy. What am I going to do with you?” 
You could give him a couple of ideas. There isn’t time, though. Taehyung is already grasping your chin and tilting it down. 
“Open up for me, okay?” 
Your cheeks grow hot as you open your mouth. You already know where this is going, so you stick out your tongue. Still, it’s difficult not to squirm when Taehyung presses his index and middle fingers flat against the wet muscle. 
“Suck.” 
You swallow around his fingers, sucking as best you can as he begins to thrust them into your mouth. It’s vulgar, the wet suctioning sound of his fingers dragging against your tongue. In and out, a steady pace that doesn’t go too fast. Taehyung has such long, gorgeous fingers. You quite enjoy when he wrecks your insides with them until you’re on the brink of tears. Which you’ve come to find is something Taehyung thoroughly enjoys doing. 
“You miss having your pretty mouth stuffed?”
You know any attempt at a spoken response will come out as a garbled mess. You whimper, eyes fluttering closed as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. You push your tongue in between his fingers and curl around them. 
“Gonna suck my cock like this, jagi?” He purrs the question, ending it so breathy it’s almost a moan as he eases over the term of endearment. “Show me how much you miss me, hm?” 
Maybe it’s the deep, sensual way he purrs jagi with heavy eyelids and that crooked smirk on his face. Maybe it’s because he bites his lip when he says it or that he lets his lip go with such slowness that you can see the way his teeth scrape across his plump bottom lip as it falls back into place. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s shoving his fingers just a bit deeper into your mouth. Maybe it’s all of these things that make you shift so that you can press your clothed pussy against Taehyung’s thigh. 
He flexes the muscle as you start rutting against it, rolling your hips to the rhythm of his fingers gliding in and out of your mouth. 
“Look at you.” His lips brush against the curve of your ear, sending a shiver down your back. “So desperate for me that you’re going to get off on only my thighs?” 
You’re not the type to be able to orgasm just from rutting and friction like this, but Taehyung has managed to learn your body faster than you ever expected. He slips his free hand beneath the waistband of your leggings and underwear. It’s the quick circling of his thumb against your throbbing clit combined with the rutting of your hips that sends you over the edge. 
“That’s it, baby, you did so well,” Taehyung whispers praise against the skin his lips have access to on your collarbones as you shudder in his lap. “Love seeing you cum, fuck, doing this shit over KakaoTalk fucking sucked.” 
Taehyung finally removes his fingers from your mouth when you stop moving. Seeing the string of spit that connects his fingers to your lips makes you feel weak, but you’re riding the high of his praise and skillful fingers, so you don’t care. 
He wipes your spit onto his sweatpants and gently holds your chin with his other hand. He gives you a soft smile and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip. You can taste yourself when you flick your tongue over the trail his thumb left.  
“I missed you so much,” he admits with a gentle kiss on your lips. “And not just because of this. I missed all of you, everything about you, just being with you.” 
“I missed you, too.”
It’s meant to be a confirmation of your mutual love, but it comes out like a whine. You know Taehyung doesn’t mind from the way his eyes zero in on your tongue running along your bottom lip. You don’t have to say anything more for him to know what you want. He nods once and you’re almost immediately on your knees between his legs.  
“Fuck.” He leans back in the chair and lifts his hips so you can tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Gonna be good for me, baby?” 
You quickly nod your head, though you’re focused on gently taking Taehyung’s cock in your hand. Alex isn’t wrong. Taehyung’s dick is big, but that doesn’t mean you have to go around talking about it. That’s for you to know and for others to wonder about. 
You had to sign an NDA before you were allowed to see it, anyway, but you’d keep your mouth shut even if no legal action would be taken against you for gossiping. 
“Kiss it first.” 
He tongues the inside of his cheek as he watches you. His eyelids droop lower when you plant a puckered, open-mouthed kiss on the head of his cock. You press the tip of your tongue against the slit to lick at the precum already leaking from him. The buck of his hips isn’t unexpected, but you feel like you need to remember how to do all of this after being away from him for so long. Not to mention how tired your jaw is about to be. 
Taehyung seems to sense your hesitation because he allows his body to go slack beneath you. The hand that has reached down to dig into your scalp doesn’t let up, but he doesn’t push your head down like he normally would when you finally slide his cock down your throat. 
He doesn’t buck his hips again, even when you drool so much that the inside of his thighs become just as wet as yours. You squeeze the base of his cock, twisting your wrist to the rhythm you’ve established when you can’t take all of him into your mouth. 
You reach down to gently roll his balls with your free hand. His cock twitches against your flattened tongue and you hum with satisfaction. 
“God, your fucking mouth–” 
You make eye contact with Taehyung as your hand ventures lower. There’s nothing more beautiful than the way his face crumples with pleasure when you massage his perineum. 
“Shit, I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop,” he whines. 
You ease up slightly but still suckle on the head of his cock for longer than Taehyung wants. Why not have a little fun? All you’ll end up doing is riling him up even more, and that can only be a good thing for you. 
Taehyung digs his fingers into your hair and yanks you up. It stings, but the pain might as well be white-hot pleasure once Taehyung is praising you with a gravelly voice. 
“You’re too fucking good at that.” 
You don’t even like sucking dick, but you’d do it all day, every day if Taehyung asked you to. But since he made you stop, you have other priorities to take care of, like the fact that there are way too many layers of clothes separating you from your boyfriend. While you were on your knees for him, Taehyung removed his shirt. The white cotton is discarded on the floor beside the chair and his half-dry hair is tousled around his head in a messiness only he could successfully pull off. 
After wiggling out of your leggings and underwear, you climb back onto Taehyung’s lap. His broad chest shudders beneath your touch as you run your hands down to meet his soft tummy. His responsiveness strokes the ego you didn’t realize you have. 
“Y’know, you never gave me the chance to ask you how travel went.” 
“Seriously?” He knows you’re teasing, but you like the mock-irritated tone of his voice. It makes his chest rumble. 
You use your grip on him to stabilize yourself as you grind into his lap. You scrape your nails at the nape of his neck and suck on his bottom lip. Taehyung moans into your mouth, low and throaty, when his cock glides through your wet folds as you roll your hips. He lets you pull his hair, head falling back to expose the smooth plane of his throat. Your lips leave his to latch onto his throat instead. The kisses you give him are slippery and biting and hot. 
“No hickeys, Y/N.” 
Taehyung’s scolding is deep and sharp; you both know he’s not fucking around. It’s a command he has had to throw your way more than once. The idea of marking him up is just so appetizing, but you know you can’t. Sure, makeup can make just about anything disappear, but it’s annoying to deal with and Taehyung isn’t particularly a fan of the side looks the makeup artists give each other when they see dark bruises littering his neck and collarbones. 
Maybe you’ll give him just a tiny one and suffer the consequences later. 
You cling onto him tighter when you feel two of his fingers slip inside of you. Spreading your thighs as wide as you can without throwing off your balance on the chair, you roll your hips into Taehyung’s hand to take his fingers deeper. 
“Please,” you moan against his neck. You can smell your shampoo and body wash on him. Something about him smelling like you makes you feel overwhelmingly possessive. He’s yours. Kim Taehyung is yours. 
He turns his head to the side to capture your lips with his own as he snakes his arm around your waist. The position allows him to pull you tightly against his chest. He holds you in place as he starts thrusting his fingers into your pussy just as he had thrust them into your mouth.   
Taehyung grunts as he keeps his legs spread in the chair, which in turn forces your thighs open when you try to squeeze them closed around his hand. 
“Stay still.” 
“Can’t.” You shake your head and thread your fingers through his hair, tugging the strands harder. 
It’s too much; Taehyung lights a fire against every inch of your body each time he touches you. If he was anyone else, you’d be singed, but Taehyung takes such good care of you. You’re not singed. You’re ignited. 
“You have no fucking idea,” Taehyung takes a deep breath, “No fucking idea how badly I’ve been craving you.” He warms you up with each thrust of his fingers, adding a third until you’re clawing at his shoulders. 
“So, ahh fuck, fuck me,” you gasp, your mouth hot against the corner of his jaw. Your teeth scrape against his skin and he merely lets his head fall back to give you more. 
“No please?” 
You bite his cheek in defiance and get a slap to the ass that only makes you want to bite him more. 
“Don’t be mean to me,” you whimper. 
Taehyung’s steady rhythm against your front wall has your orgasm burning so hotly in your core that you feel like you’re going to cum if he even so much as turns his head to look at you one more time. 
Your thighs are already sore by the time Taehyung removes his fingers from your pussy. He uses your sticky arousal as lube to stroke his cock and you don’t want to think about how excited you are about this. 
“Hurry up.” 
Taehyung raises his eyebrows at you just as he grips the inside of your thigh with one hand. The other he uses to line his cock with your body. You can feel the head press against your entrance, and you try to push your body down to swallow him whole, but Taehyung holds you up to stop you. 
“Impatient cockslut, aren’t you?” Taehyung chides. 
His previously spacey look is sharpened by the sparkle of mirth in his eyes. Your body tenses when he spits the insult at you, and he knows it’s making your clit throb even harder. 
“Tae.” You bite your lip because you’re close to begging at this point. 
Luckily, you don’t have to. Taehyung presses down your hip and you quickly take the lead, easing yourself onto his cock until you’re fully seated on his firm thighs. 
Your body burns from the stretch it has to make to accommodate him, but you knew it would. Even when you’re fully adjusted to him, there’s always a bit of a stretch. He also knows he has to let you ease into it to avoid slamming himself straight into your cervix. The first time it had happened, Taehyung genuinely thought he’d broken you. You kind of thought so, too, if you were going to be perfectly honest. The struggle of having a big-dicked boyfriend. 
“Okay?” He’s watching you with those lustful, dark eyes.
“Mhm,” you hum because you’re afraid of the way your voice will quiver if you try to say real words. 
You’re so full, it’s a bit overwhelming. Not just physically, but emotionally, too. You missed Taehyung a lot, but holding onto each other in such an intimate position is making you realize just how lonely you were without him. 
“I’m gonna move, okay?” 
He waits until you silently nod your head before he adjusts in the chair, scooting down slightly to spread his legs better. You allow him to adjust your legs, bending them at the knee and hooking them over the arms of the chair. With a tight grip on your ass, Taehyung pulls you down onto his cock at the same time he thrusts up into you. 
The pace Taehyung sets is desperate, but you don’t care. Your second orgasm is approaching at an alarming speed. It feels like it’s taking all of your energy to simply stay grounded with reality as Taehyung squeezes you and your hips crash into each other. You don’t even try to do anything, just let him take over your body as he pounds into you. For the most part, you’re a pillow princess and you both know it. Besides, how can you possibly keep up with someone so athletic? Taehyung’s stamina is ridiculous. Neither of you has an overstimulation kink, but Taehyung’s ability to just go and go and go might as well have given you one. None of this has ever bothered Taehyung, though. He likes giving more than receiving. 
“Oh fuck.” Taehyung nips at the base of your neck when you clench around his cock just to feel him shiver. 
There aren’t any rules about him marking you up. The petty side of him likes when you wear the dark bruises in the open, with no makeup or clothing to hide them. It’s a satisfying game he likes to play. He likes that everyone knows you’re getting dicked down and, therefore, are taken. 
You like the secret satisfaction of knowing it’s Kim Taehyung who gives you those marks, and no one even knows. 
What you don’t like is thinking about all the other people Taehyung may have enjoyed giving marks to. 
It’s hard not to let your mind wander. Taehyung has never talked to you about his previous relationships, and there’s no way for you to know about them if he doesn’t tell you. The media can’t be trusted to accurately report idols’ love lives; today has been a perfect example of that. You’re stuck with only your imagination to make up all kinds of scenarios. Maybe Taehyung has been with other k-pop idols, or models, or actresses - people with more money, who are prettier and more sophisticated than you. Hell, you’ve never even asked him about his sexuality. What if he really has been fucking Jungkook! What if they’re in love and you’re just something temporary? 
“I was made for you, jagi. You know that?” Taehyung’s breath is hot against your skin. His words are gentle, but the power with which he thrusts up into you is bruising. “Made for you.” 
It’s as if he can read your mind, as if he can somehow sense the insecurities threatening to pull you out of the moment. As always, Taehyung manages to bring you back to the present. 
Fuck, sometimes you wish he wouldn’t do shit like this to you. You’re already pathetically in love with him. You can’t imagine what more could come next, yet you feel yourself practically bursting from the seams with love.  
Your moans fall in line with the sound of the chair scraping the floor and your skin slapping against Taehyung’s with every thrust. When your mouth falls open, Taehyung presses his thumb against your tongue. With eyes fluttering closed, you suck on his thumb and try to hold on as your body rocks up and down. 
“Fuck, fuck, oh, god, Taehyung.” 
“Yeah, jagi?” Taehyung pulls down on the corner of your mouth until his thumb is dragging spit across your cheek. “Tell me.”
His voice is so soothing it makes you want to cry. It’s unfair. 
“You feel so fucking—“ 
It’s the slick pressure of his thumb massaging your clit that finally has you arching your back with a scream of Taehyung’s name. You’re so loud that you worry your neighbors heard you. There are plenty of people named Taehyung in the world, though, right? He could be any Taehyung. 
If you ask Taehyung later, he’ll probably say he can’t even remember his own name because of how tightly you clench around his cock when you cum. The feeling is so overwhelming that you think you might pass out from holding your breath. You gasp, inhaling more air than you exhale, but Taehyung keeps going. Every subsequent thrust knocks the air out of you until you have the opposite problem and now you can’t keep any air in.
“I’m gonna…”
“Go ahead, baby. Cum inside me.” 
Taehyung whimpers into the crook of your neck as he cums, the suggestiveness of your permission not lost on either of you. You’re on birth control and Taehyung knows a kid would probably ruin his career. So it doesn’t actually mean anything when you tell him he can stay inside; you’re not getting pregnant any time soon. Still, he gets off on coming inside of you, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 
“I was going to make a joke that I should go on tour more often if that means I’ll cum that hard again, but I think I don’t want to go on tour ever again,” Taehyung admits with a shaky laugh. 
Just the idea of Taehyung leaving you for months on end again makes your stomach twist. He brings so much life to everywhere he goes, and you felt like much of that life left you when he did. Even if it was only temporary. 
Taehyung holds you until his cock is no longer twitching inside of you. Once his arms finally fall to his side, you try to untangle yourself from the chair as his body, but your limbs might as well belong to someone else.
“Help,” you squeak hoarsely. You feel like covering your face when Taehyung laughs. 
Taehyung helps you out of his lap, though you both are so wobbly on your feet that you hold onto the edge of the kitchen table when you stand. Taehyung looks wrecked, and you feel wrecked. You’re not sure your knees will ever work properly again. 
“Why are we still listening to Stray Kids?” Taehyung grumbles when he realizes the speakers are still playing in the background. 
“It’s a good album.”
“We should be fucking to my songs.” Taehyung pauses for a moment, thinking.“‘Christmas Tree’ is a fuckable song, right?” 
“You’re joking.” 
Taehyung shakes his head and reaches for your phone. His face is programmed to unlock your phone, just like your face unlocks his phone. You don’t understand how he can stand butt naked in the kitchen, cum all over his thighs, and search for the jazz playlist he made on your Spotify account. 
(“Jazz Hands, Y/N. It’s a vibe.”) 
Once his playlist has replaced Stray Kids, Taehyung wraps you up in a giant bear hug that lifts you off your feet. The hug nearly knocks the air out of you. 
“Can’t believe you made me dirty after I just showered.” You can’t see his pout, but you can hear it. 
“You’re the one who started this.” 
Taehyung scoffs. He starts walking down the hallway, practically dragging you in his arms as he goes. Your toes barely reach the ground, but you’re more content to let your body fall slack and make him do all the work. 
He kicks open the bathroom door and sits you down on the counter. 
“No, you did this. You looked at me with those pretty eyes and said, ‘Tae’.” He tries to mimic your voice by moaning his name. “I’m a weak, weak man. You influenced me. I just wanted you to eat.” 
“Well, I did eat.” 
Taehyung presses his lips together. “Don’t say it.” 
“I’m gonna say it.” You lean forward on the edge of the counter, trying to get in Taehyung’s space, but he’s ignoring you as he prepares the shower.
“Y/N.” 
“I ate…”  
“Stop.” 
“Deez nuts.” 
Taehyung drags his hands down his face, leaving his skin red. His reaction makes you giggle. 
“Technically you only played with deez nuts. Your mouth, sadly, did not ever come near my—” He tries to correct you, but you’re already throwing a scrunchie at his face. 
“You’re ruining the joke!” 
“It’s a bad joke!”
Maybe your sense of humor is way better than his, but as you suffer another Taehyung tickle attack, you can’t help but feel ridiculous for how you’d behaved earlier. How can he look at you with sparkling eyes and a boxy smile that makes him laugh with his teeth, hand coming up to cover his face when you give him your poutiest of pouts— how can you see such genuine kindness and think Taehyung would ever do anything to jeopardize what you have?
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“Wassup motherfuckers!” 
You raise your eyebrows at Namjoon and tap the end of your chewed pen against your computer screen. Biting pens isn’t sanitary or cute but you do it anyway. The man’s eyes aren’t on your pen cap, though. He’s staring a hole into the podcast you pulled up because you know he doesn’t want to look at you. 
“Namjoon, why did you start the episode like that? This is not your Automatic Dick era,” you say with a deep sigh. 
“Beoryeo.” 
“Excuse me?” 
“The song. It’s called ‘Throw Away’, not… Automatic… Dick…” His correction dies on his tongue when he sees the exasperated look on your face. 
“That is not the point.” You shake your head and exit the website. You’re not in charge of PR. That’s someone else’s problem.
Your attention turns to the newest draft of the song you’ve been stressing out about since you arrived in Seoul. 
“This, though? This is fucking beautiful.” You adjust your laptop on the coffee table so Namjoon can better view the document. The two of you are at the dorm, lounging in the living room. 
There are a lot of highlighted lines and many comments throughout the document. You wish you were like the members who scribbled their lyrics in cute leather journals, but your brain is too much of a disaster and broken by technology. If you don’t have your laptop, you can't write lyrics for shit. 
“How are you so eloquent in Korean, but in English, you’re so…” You wave your hands around like you’re rifling through the air for the rest of your sentence. 
“Casual?” 
“Yes.” Sure, we’ll go with that, Joonie. 
“Well, that’s why I’ve got you!” 
At least he thinks you’re eloquent. The boys probably think you’re spending all your time in your office easily pulling masterpieces out of your ass when in reality you’re Googling, “what's the word for when you can't remember a word?” 
It’s lethologica, by the way.
You love Namjoon, but sometimes you think he has too much faith in you. Writing songs is hard. He of all people would know that. The difference between you and Namjoon is that when Namjoon struggles with writing he gets all emo, buys a bunch of weird furniture, and flies to another country to look at foreign art. When you struggle with writing, you just go home and play video games with Taehyung until you’re ready to try again. 
You’re both practicing avoidance, but Namjoon’s method just looks a little more dramatic than yours. Despite his assumptions, that doesn’t mean you’re better at handling yourself. You just do things differently. 
“We’re so lucky to have Jagi PD!” 
Namjoon groans and covers his head with the hood of his hoodie as Jungkook flies into the living room. 
Strong hands cup your armpits to lift you off of the couch. While Jungkook is crushing every bone in your body as he hugs you, all you can think about is how you were kind of a little bit sweaty, and now Jungkook has his hands all in your armpits. 
“Jungkookie, don’t pick people up without their consent.” 
Hobi enters the room behind the younger man and gives him a stern look which makes Jungkook immediately put you down on your feet. 
“Sorry, Y/N,” Jungkook says with a pout and galaxies in his eyes. You give his shoulder a playful smack. His baggy black t-shirt sticks to his skin, and you’re less worried about being sweaty. Jungkook is soaked. 
“Don’t worry about it, kid. I’m tough.” You flex your nonexistent muscles to make the precious maknae laugh his pout away.
“You should come train with us, Jagi.” 
“Jungkook,” Namjoon exclaims from where he still sits on the couch. 
He turns to his friend with wide eyes. “What?”
“Stop calling Y/N ‘jagi’. Taehyung is going to kill you.” This time Jimin pipes up. 
You hadn’t realized he’d entered the room, too. The three newcomers are varying degrees of sweaty with pink cheeks and wearing workout clothes. You suppose they’ve just come back from working out or perhaps a dance practice. They’ve all been back from tour for a few weeks now, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about the Bangtan Boys it’s that they never fucking rest. 
It’s exhausting just to think about it. 
“It’s okay,” you say with a shrug. “I think ‘Jagi PD’ is pretty fucking funny, to be honest.” 
The nickname Jungkook created for you is cute in your opinion. You are a music producer. Jagi PD is better than using your last name. It could be like your stage name. Maybe you can get Namjoon to credit you as Jagi PD under the songs you write. Using your first and last name seems lame when it’s paired with fun names like SUGA, RM, j-hope, and Slow Rabbit.
“Pretty fucking funny,” Jungkook repeats. He gives the other men a triumphant look before launching himself onto the couch with Jimin. 
Hobi chooses to sit on the couch on the opposite side of the room with Namjoon. From the way Namjoon has nestled back into his seat, it’s clear that his song will have to wait. It’s for the best. You’re not thinking about music anymore. 
You can’t blame Jungkook for interrupting your work, but the true source of distraction saunters into the room with his arms full of grocery bags. 
“Hey, jagiya,” Taehyung greets you sweetly with a kiss on your forehead as he walks through the living room to get to the kitchen. The final two men, Jin and Yoongi, trail behind Taehyung with their own bags. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jimin give Jungkook a pointed look when Taehyung uses the term of endearment. 
“What are you guys making?” Jungkook is curled up against the arm of the couch with his phone in hand. He’s holding it sideways which makes you think he’s probably playing In The Seom. The app is old news by this point, yet Jungkook’s attention is still consumed by it. It’s hilarious. 
You wish you could meet the game developers. Whoever made Taehyung’s character look so fucking feral deserves a raise. 
“You’re gonna cook?” You don’t hide your shock at the idea that Taehyung would be cooking anything, and that makes everyone laugh.
“I’m making dinner,” Yoongi clarifies. “And it’s a surprise, so stop paying attention to me.” He shoos Jin and Taehyung out of the kitchen. 
Jin sits on the couch with Jimin and Jungkook, while Taehyung sits with you. The armchair really only seats one person comfortably, but you wiggle so Taehyung can sit half next to you and half under you. He arranges your legs to drape over his lap. It’s nice, being this close. You can snuggle into his side and let him wrap his arms around you without worrying about who can see or what people think. All the boys are supportive of your relationship with Taehyung. It’s a bit frustrating that there’s no way for you to fully express how appreciative you are. 
“Well, what are we supposed to do?” From the couch in the living room, Jungkook shoots Yoongi a glare as if Yoongi’s request for some alone time while he cooks is a personal attack. 
Yoongi snorts and turns his back on Jungkook to begin unloading the groceries. “I don’t know, talk to each other.” 
“You guys are boring. I only want to talk to Y/N.” You’re not sure how you’ve become Jungkook’s favorite, but it’s exceptionally endearing. 
“You’re not even going to pay attention,” Namjoon points out. “Always on that damn phone.” 
He’s still got his hood up, and he looks like he was half-asleep. No one but you gets the joke, so Namjoon nods his head in your direction before returning to his slumped position. 
“I like watching Jimin-ssi’s character spin around in little circles.” 
“It’s cute, isn’t it?” Jin chimes in. “He looks so small.” 
The glares Jimin shoots everyone in the room are terrifying. You think about something you’d heard someone say: the shorter the person, the closer to hell they are. Something dramatic that only a tall person would say. 
“All the characters are the same size,” he exclaims. “And I don’t do that!” 
“Yes, you do. There are fanmade compilation videos of you spinning around, Jimin-ssi! I’ve watched them,” Jungkook confesses with full confidence. 
A small squeal sounds from the opposite side of the room. You turn to see Hobi practically bouncing on the couch. 
“Please, can we watch some? I want to hear the cute sound effects.” 
A pillow flies across the room, and Hobi just barely dodges it. Jimin crosses his arms firmly against his chest and scowls as Jin and Jungkook enthusiastically agree and Hobi snatches the TV remote before anyone else can. 
“At least watch a video that isn’t about me doing something embarrassing,” Jimin breaks down enough to plead (not beg!) with Hobi. He eyes the room and his gaze falls on Taehyung. A small smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth and you feel Taehyung slowly exhale. “We should watch one about TaeTae.” 
You try to cover your laughter with a cough, but Taehyung applies a light slap to your thigh in retaliation. 
“Why me?” he pouts. 
“Yes! Let me pick!”
“Jungkookie, no. It was my idea.” Hobi scrolls through his phone until his face lights up with glee. “I’ve watched this one before and it’s so cute, Y/N, you’re going to love it.” 
“The suspense is killing me.” You wiggle your eyebrows at Taehyung. The rolled eyes you’re met with feel like a victory. 
“Okay, it’s called, BTS struggling to understand ‘Tae-tae language’,” Hobi prefaces while the video loads on the TV. 
Jin laughs at the loud snort you let out. “TaeTae language is hard to understand.” 
“Maybe you guys aren’t creative enough to understand me,” Taehyung scoffs. 
“Hey! I understand you!” Yoongi protests from the kitchen. 
Taehyung looks like he might say more, but the video interrupts him. It starts with highlights from the comments section of previous videos. One comment mentions Namjoon being their bias. 
“Is that weird? Like, to watch this kind of stuff and hear people talk about their biases?” If you were famous, you were absolutely positive that you’d never Google yourself. You would not want to know what kind of weird shit was out there about you, even something as seemingly innocent as silly compilation videos. 
“I think it’s funny,” Jimin says with a smirk and half-moon eyes. “I’m everyone’s bias, anyway.” 
“That’s not what TikTok says.” Jungkook turns his nose upward at Jimin, though his eyes never leave his phone. It’s a shame In The Seom didn’t allow him to drown Jimin in the ocean, or he totally would have done it by now. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“Just check how many videos there are under my hashtag.” 
Jimin snorts with a roll of his eyes, seemingly dismissing Jungkook’s claims. But you see him twist on the couch so the younger man can’t see that Jimin pulls up TikTok on his phone. As if TikTok was the end all, be all. You want to tell them it’s impossible to know who’s the most “popular” or whatever, but you know that conversation is futile. 
“Y/N, you were Army before you started dating Tae!” You can practically see the light bulb going off in Hobi’s brain. Or, rather, the Army bomb. “Who was your bias?” 
Hobi’s question barely leaves his lips when the room grows quiet. Seven pairs of eyes stare at you expectantly, including your boyfriend’s. You keep your eyes on the TV, though you aren’t seeing the compilation video playing anymore. 
“I don’t know. I didn’t have a bias. Y’know, OT7 and all that shit.” 
Suddenly, the room erupts. Screeches of protests and arguments are shouted across the living room, the boys yelling on top of one another and slewing insults at each other. 
“Oh come on, Y/N, tell us!” Hobi whines.
“Yeah, we wanna know! We won’t judge you.” Pulling this precious information out of you is so vital that Jungkook looks away from his phone long enough to give you a pouty face. 
“It’s obviously me. I’m Worldwide Handsome.” 
“Leave her alone, guys.” Taehyung shifts in his seat and adjusts how your legs drape over his lap. His large hands massage soft circles into your calf muscles. “This is so childish.” 
“Right. A bias is just whoever a fan is partial to,” Namjoon says with a shrug. “What matters is that fans support us as seven.” 
“No, a bias is the one the fan wants to fuck the most.” This time Jungkook doesn’t look up from his phone when he speaks. 
Jin hums in agreement, winking in your direction and making Taehyung scowl. 
“You’re just scared it’s not you, Tae.” For someone Taehyung calls his soulmate, Jimin seems to jump at every opportunity to fuck with his friend. He turns to you with those haunting siren eyes that lure in even God’s strongest soldiers. “Is he, Y/N? Is your bias Taehyung or someone else?” 
“I thought Hobi’s question was, who was my bias? Not is.” 
His siren eyes narrow at you. “Stop arguing semantics and answer the question.” 
You can’t hold a staring contest with the now-paused Youtube video, and Jimin’s sudden snappiness makes you feel the need to look away. Right into the eyes of your answer, the only person who hasn’t spoken during the entire bias conversation. 
Yoongi’s sharp eyes catch yours when you look away from the TV. Never one to miss a beat, he raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow at you, the ghost of his classic Yoongi smirk barely lifting the corner of his mouth before the entire room erupts into shouting again. 
“YOONGI?! REALLY?! OUT OF ALL OF US, YOU PICKED HIM?” Jimin jumps up from the couch, knocking pillows all over the floor. 
“Watch it, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi scolds the younger man for his informal language. Jimin only rolls his eyes. 
“Damn, Jimin was right. You aren’t her bias, TaeTae.” Jin shakes his head with a solemn look. He gets up to leave the room, giving your boyfriend a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he walks past. “I’m going to my room to play Mario Kart. This is too depressing for me.” 
At the mention of video games, Jungkook perks up. “Wait Jin hyungie, I wanna play, too!” He tosses the last couch pillow in Jimin’s lap and scrambles to catch up with Jin halfway down the hall. 
Yoongi wears a full-blown smirk now. You watch with wide eyes as his tongue slips out to drag across his bottom lip before he’s drawing his lip between his teeth. “Cute.” 
“Fuck off,” Taehyung hisses at the older man, lifting your legs off his lap. 
“Tae…” You reach out to grab his arm to stop him, but he’s already heading to his bedroom. The door slams shut so hard that the photos on the walls shudder. 
You turn back around to glare at the remaining men. “Did you have your fun, hmm? Was it worth it?” 
“I really… I didn’t think…” Hobi fumbles his words, clearly uncomfortable with the outbursts he’d unwittingly caused. 
“If it doesn’t work out with Taehyung, call me, yeah?” Yoongi sends you a wink, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. 
You feel your face heat up and you refuse to look at him. You wait until he goes back to preparing the food before you stand up. Without another word, you follow in Taehyung’s footsteps until you reach his door. It’s locked, but you expected as much. 
“TaeTae,” you call softly. “Please let me in.” 
You wait in silence long enough that you consider going home. If Taehyung doesn’t want to talk to you, you aren’t going to push him. Even if you think the reason for his outburst is stupid and that he’s acting like a child. 
Eventually, the door is opened wide enough for you to slip inside. Taehyung doesn’t look at you when he shuts the door. Instead, he sits on his bed and leans his back against the wall. He keeps his eyes on his hands delicately folded together in his lap. His eyes are already red and slightly puffy. The sight is glass in your veins. 
“Tae, please don’t be upset,” you start slowly. Climbing into his bed, you scoot until you’re lounging next to him. He doesn’t pull away when you rest your head on his shoulder. 
“It’s embarrassing.” 
You let out a small sigh, not because you’re frustrated with him but because you’d known watching fanmade videos would turn out to be a bad idea. 
“If it makes you feel better, you were still in my bias line.” It’s probably not the best way to reassure your boyfriend, but it at least makes him look at you. 
“Who else?” His eyes are narrowed.
“I don’t think I should answer that.” 
Taehyung’s bottom lip droops and you feel your heart seize. 
“Okay, okay!” Maybe holding his hand will make it better. “Jimin, but, no don’t give me that look! Just listen.” 
Taehyung’s pout deepens, but he doesn’t interrupt you. 
“It’s not like when I hang out with Jimin or Yoongi I’m thinking about those things, okay? It’s just a natural thing that happens. Anyone can be drawn to specific people in a group; the same thing happens with friendships. Like you and Jimin. It’s normal.” 
Taehyung doesn’t seem convinced, but he laces his fingers through yours. You interpret the light squeeze he gives you as permission to continue talking. 
“Yoongi is cool because I always saw him as this, like, mental health icon for me. He talks so much about mental health and fans see how he has grown and gotten healthier over the years. It’s inspiring, right? You’ve seen it firsthand.”
“That’s true,” Taehyung sniffles. 
You nod your head. “Exactly, I respect him as a person and an artist. And with Jimin, I’ve always been almost jealous? of him. Because he can so beautifully balance both masculine and feminine qualities and aesthetics. He looks good no matter what and has learned to accept himself instead of forcing whatever weird masculinity shit y’all had when you debuted. That’s inspiring, too.” 
Taehyung is silent for a while. You give him the space to process what you’ve said, and you hope that it’s enough to make him understand that a bias is not just about who you want to fuck. Jungkook is such a flirt; of course, that’s how he would interpret things. 
“Why did you like me?” He finally looks at you. His eyes are a little pink from his tears, but his cheeks appear dry. The innocent curiosity in his expression tugs at your heart. 
You reach up to run your fingers through his fluffy hair, combing out any tangles and gently massaging his scalp. This is probably how Taehyung feels when you worry about fans, paparazzi, and sasaengs. 
“Well, you’re hot,” you say with a grin. You feel a bit lighter when Taehyung’s mouth curves slightly, too. 
“Is that it?” 
“Of course not.” You stick your tongue out. “You were my favorite in the vocal line. I loved how smooth your singing voice is, and how thoughtful you sound when you talk about how important the members and Army are to you. How could someone not love the inventor of I purple you?” 
It feels weird to talk about how you liked Taehyung before you knew who he was. You never made your status as a fan obvious in the beginning. Professionalism is more important than fangirling. Even now, you only casually discuss your interest in the group before meeting them.
“Your sense of fashion made me laugh. You always seemed so happy, even though people like to focus a lot on how mean you can look. And I thought your relationships with Yoongi and Jimin were cute. You’re a great example of how men can and should be soft and loving.” 
They’re all highly-simplified explanations for why Taehyung caught your eye in a group of seven, but they seem to put him at ease. He slides into the bed so he’s lying on his back under the covers. With his eyes locked on yours, he pats his chest. 
“C’mere.” 
You lie down under the covers next to him. It feels nice to rest your head on his chest and throw your leg over his waist. Ever since Taehyung came back from the tour, you’ve wanted to be attached at the hip. It’s not that you can’t handle being alone, but you don’t think it’s a bad thing to want to be with the people who bring you joy— especially when you live in a new country. 
“You know I’m in love with you, not Yoongi or Jimin.” 
“I know.” 
“Do you actually?” You shift your head so you can look up at him. 
Taehyung meets you halfway. You let your eyes close as he slots his lips with yours, allowing your body to melt into his. The desperation the two of you had for each other when Taehyung first returned to Seoul eventually died out. Now, you’re okay with taking things slow. You can savor the feeling of his body on yours, firm and warm beneath you. You can savor the smell of his cologne and his taste as you breathe him in and slip your tongue inside his mouth. 
“I do,” he responds with a heavy exhale once you pull away. “I’m sorry I got upset. I just got so angry when hyung…” Taehyung scrunches his eyebrows and his nose scrunches along with them. 
You massage his forehead and try to forcefully smooth the wrinkles there. “Yoongi is just being an ass. He loves you, too,” you point out. 
Taehyung can’t argue that, so he leans down to kiss you again. You know how important physical contact is to him, especially when he’s upset. With that in mind, you slip your hands beneath his t-shirt. Splaying your hands flat against his chest feels nice. It’s a reminder that he’s real, and he’s here. He’s safe and healthy and yours. 
“We both get pretty jealous, huh?” 
Taehyung gives you a sheepish smile, all cheeks and pretty lips. You love his little lip freckle, but your favorite will always be the one under his eye. 
“Not as bad as Jungkook, though.” 
“Mhm, please don’t break up with me over a perilla leaf or anything.” 
Taehyung giggles and you feel like you’ve got helium inside you. If you don’t hold onto him tightly enough, you might float away with how light and carefree being with him makes you. 
“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” he says as he nibbles your earlobe. 
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 
His hands find the hem of your t-shirt, and you sit up to allow him to undress you. It’s a delicate process because Taehyung wants to take his time, too. It might seem like the two of you use sex to solve your problems, but you never see it like that. For you, letting Taehyung take his time breaking you down, just to build you back up again, is an act of emotional intimacy, just as it is physical. When Taehyung gets comfortable between your thighs, dark eyes locked with yours as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the hold he has on your wrists grounds you. And when he hovers over you with your legs wrapped around his hips as he thrusts into you, you whisper gentle praises against his throat to remind him that you are his and he is yours.
You spend the rest of the afternoon in Taehyung’s bed. It feels good to snuggle with him while he talks to you about all the jazz clubs he forced Jimin to go to during the little free time they had on tour. It seems the tension in the house fades because the rest of the boys are loud and energetic; it’s impossible to tune them out when their laughter bleeds into the room despite the door being closed. 
“Do you think Taehyung and Y/N are done having make-up sex?” 
“It’s pretty quiet in there. Maybe they fell asleep.” 
You groan and bury your face in Taehyung’s side. It’s almost as if Jungkook and Jin are purposefully talking outside of his bedroom to make sure you can hear them. Knowing them, it’s not a far-fetched idea. 
“Probably tired themselves out. The screaming was really—” 
“JUNGKOOK!” Taehyung sits up so abruptly that you fall back onto the bed. “SHUT THE FUCK UP.” 
Jin and Jungkook’s laughter eventually fades down the hallway, but Taehyung gets out of bed anyway. 
“Yoongi is probably almost done with dinner,” he grumbles. You watch him zip up his jeans and admire how tall and lanky he is. Sorry to Yoongi and Jimin. 
He manages to get his arms caught in his t-shirt somehow, so you begrudgingly get out of bed to help. You tease him endlessly because obviously fucking you is so good that he doesn’t know how to use his limbs anymore. 
Your teasing is nothing compared to the way the other boys drag you the moment you step out of Taehyung’s bedroom. 
“You okay, Y/N? Sounded like you might be dying,” Jimin grins as he prepares the kitchen table for dinner. 
Jin snickers, throwing out his own commentary. “Taehyung, you got it pretty good even though you aren’t her bias, huh.” 
Before Taehyung has a chance to bite anyone’s head off, you chime in. 
“Yeah, yeah, Yoongi was my bias when I was a fan,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You can practically see Jungkook registering that you said “was a fan”, and that makes him pout. As if you aren’t still a fan. What a baby, just like Taehyung. 
Yoongi snorts as he retrieves a dish from the oven. “I cannot fathom why.” 
“Me either,” Jimin agrees with a giggle. He’s completely unfazed by the dark look Yoongi shoots him. 
You join in on Jimin’s laughter, and you’re pleased to see that Taehyung is smiling too. The whole thing is so ridiculous. Maybe you’re feeling a bit too comfortable because you start oversharing. 
“And I was a Yoonmin shipper, I’m not gonna lie.” You’re laughing so hard that you don’t realize neither Jimin nor Taehyung are laughing anymore. After a few seconds pass, though, your smile slowly falls. Jimin’s face has turned bright pink and Yoongi has his back to the table. 
“It was one time, okay?” Jimin’s eyes burn holes into Yoongi’s shoulder blades from across the room. “Okay, two times.” 
The older man doesn’t comment. 
You nudge Taehyung’s leg with your foot under the kitchen table. He presses his lips together as hard as he can, but the smile just gets pushed into his cheeks. A rush of air explodes from his lips in a loud raspberry, and that’s what triggers your laughter again. 
“Oh my god, I really wish I was surprised but I’m not,” you confess with a wheeze. 
You’ve clearly touched on a sensitive topic. Jimin blabbers away about how it’s not that big of a deal, all while Yoongi silently finishes arranging the dishes on the table. It would feel uncomfortable, but Jimin’s flushed face and the tiniest of smiles curving Yoongi’s lips make you think it meant a lot more than what Jimin wishes to admit. 
And that’s really fucking cute. 
As the rest of the boys come piling into the kitchen, Taehyung scoots his chair until yours are touching. You bump shoulders and tilt your face up so he can press a kiss against your jaw. 
“I love you,” he whispers. “With all my heart." 
“I love you, too.” You lace your fingers with his and let your hands rest against his thigh. “You dork.” 
The kitchen is chaos, but all you can focus on is the boxy smile Taehyung gifts you.
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part two: taedros twodros ☆ part three: taedros tresdros**NEW wc: 2k reader: femme afab warnings: MINORS DNI EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ -- porn with plot, oral f!receiving, swearing, calling tae a virgin loser as a joke, mentioning the weeknd LMAO summary: loserbestfriend!taerae makes you watch the idol on hbo max with him for movie night, but a certain convertible scene sparks your "curiosity" more than the others... and taerae proves he might not be such a loser after all. :0 omg who am i?? i even wrote in all lower case letters in the fic to throw you off... i know you'll know right away though but that's not the point lmao!! i just didn't think i should be this horny for taerae on main so. here's the dedicated zb1 smut blog no one was asking for (except me. i was asking for it so let me live.) thank you to taerae for posting these pics next to each other and ruining my life. also the idol sucks and sam levinson and the weeknd are horrific for creating it. i only know some scenes from it because i watch comedy commentary videos about it. jennie is beautiful tho love her. ALSO i thought of this title and i cried laughing. mwahaha okay thanks for reading byeeeee
“this is the worst show I’ve ever seen in my life,” you say with a laugh, throwing a piece of popcorn in your mouth. “i can’t believe we’ve made it through two episodes already.”
🚨 SMUT BELOW CUT -- MINORS DNI -- 18+ 🚨
taerae sighs, “i think i’m gonna need to bleach my eyes.”
“throw some in my ears while you’re at it,” you joke, letting a leg drape over your best friend’s. you’re crammed together in the bottom bunk of his dorm room bed, watching the idol on the tv that’s hung at the foot of it. “i will never, ever be unable to hear the weeknd whispering, ‘stretch that tiny little pussy for me’. and every single day i will beg the lord for mercy.”
“are we sure we wanna watch the third episode?” taerae asks-- shifting a bit next to you. “this show is so graphic.”
“of course the virgin wants to chicken out,” you tease, smacking his stomach with a pillow. he grabs it from you and leaves it there. “you’re the one who wanted to watch it! now you wanna quit two episodes in? not gonna happen. we can make it through this.”
if you hadn’t pressed play at that exact moment, you would’ve heard taerae gulp beside you. 
the intro of the show plays, assaulting your eyes with an up-close and personal view of jocelyn’s bare chest. what else is new? you yawn, hoping the third episode’s graphic scenes (at the very least) won’t be repetitive. bitch has put on a blindfold to end both episodes so far...
sitting with your back leaning against the wall, you try to steal a glance at taerae. his upper back is propped up on his pillow as he lies perpendicular to you, facing the tv screen. you watch his eyes, catching the subtle dilation of his pupils. it could be the light from the television in the otherwise dark room shifting their size, but you find yourself curious nonetheless.
“do you think she’s pretty?” you ask suddenly.
taerae coughs. “me? do i think the actress is pretty?”
you nod, eyes returning to the screen in hopes that the lack of eye contact will make taerae feel comfortable enough to give you an answer.
“she’s pretty, yeah,” he says after a moment. 
“like, you’re attracted to her?” you clarify, throwing another piece of popcorn into your mouth.
“uh,” he hesitates and you feel his legs tense up under yours. “i guess. i mean she’s not really my type, but--.”
“but you like her tits.”
“exactly,” taerae agrees too quickly. “wait, no--.”
“no need to walk it back,” you cut him off with a snort. “boobs are hot. end of story.”
taerae sits up a bit more, seemingly trying to relax after your probing. you didn’t talk to taerae about sex or girls all that much, but you’d be lying if you said the show hadn’t suddenly made you a bit curious. what experience did your lovable loser of a best friend have-- if any at all?
the interrogatory questions you’re suddenly wanting to ask are thrown from your brain, however, as the show now cuts to a shot of the weeknd (you and taerae refuse to call him tedros tedros) and jocelyn in the back of a convertible-- their poor assistant driving these two insufferable cretins down the freeway.
nothing’s out of the ordinary until jocelyn crawls from her seat and lifts one leg to straddle the weeknd. she’s in a slinky tangerine bodysuit and little black shorts and the weeknd’s hands easily envelope her waist. you roll your eyes, already having grown so sick of these two. 
but when jocelyn is suddenly pushed to the edge of the seat, her back against the car door and her head resting on the frame-- your attention is piqued. the weeknd wraps his hands around her thighs, prying them apart so he can pull her shorts to the side just enough to fit his tongue. the actress’s head lolls back over the car door frame; her blonde hair dangling over the side and flowing in the wind. her face is screwed up in absolute bliss and the sounds coming out of her confirm her state.
would she really be screaming like that just from his tongue?
“um,” you hear taerae say and you look over at him curiously. “if-- if he’s good with it, then yeah. she would be, i guess.”
you frown. what was he talking about? if he’s good with what? ... oh fuck, you think as you realize that you’d accidentally said your previous thought out loud. and now poor taerae is stumbling to give you an answer.
what did he say? if he’s good with it then she would be.
“huh,” you mumble, your brow furrowing as you ponder his answer.
you turn back to the tv, but taerae clears his throat. “what?”
“what? what do you mean, what?”
“why did you say ‘huh’ like that?” he asks, the pillow on his stomach rustling as he shifts slightly. “do you not agree or something?”
“oh, uh,” you stutter as you feel your cheeks start to heat, not sure what to say. “um, i guess i wouldn’t know.”
the silence from taerae is deafening as your eyes stay locked on the tv. you’re not sure why you said that. you could’ve just lied. you should’ve just lied.
“are you a virgin?” taerae asks softly. the accusation whips your head around to stare at him angrily and his eyes widen cautiously.
“obviously not,” you answer in a huff. “i just... i’ve never...”
you look down at your lap, picking at the skin on your fingers. you should stop while you can. you don’t need to tell the truth. why are you even considering telling him this?
“no one’s ever gone down on me or anything.”
“oh,” taerae manages to respond after a long moment, but you can’t even look at him.
“yeah.”
another moment of silence. “you shouldn’t be, like, embarrassed by that. that’s... that’s entirely their fault for not prioritizing you, you know?”
your bottom lip tucks between your teeth, the aforementioned embarrassment flushing your skin as you nod. the show is still playing, but you can only hear garbled sounds. why did you tell him that!? now taerae has to awkwardly comfort you when you could’ve just shut your mouth in the first place. you didn’t really talk about these kinds of things with taerae. your best friend was there for movie nights, chinese food binges, laughing until you cry, and most importantly taking the absolute piss out of... 
and here you were making him uncomfortable by randomly talking about your oral virginity.
“would you want me to do it?”
taerae’s voice is so quiet that you’re positive for a moment that you hallucinated it. you look over at your best friend tentatively to find his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping his pillow to his stomach. 
“what?”
taerae blinks nervously. “if you wanted to, you know, try it... i could--.”
“WHAT!?” you shout; hands grabbing the pillow on taerae’s stomach and throwing it across the room. “are you-- are you fucking joking!? you think i’m desperate enough to ask my best friend to eat me out?”
“no, no, no,” taerae respond quickly, hands flying up in defense. “not at all!”
“then what?” you ask, jaw setting in anger as you wait for a good enough answer to keep you from punching him in the balls.
taerae’s lips form the slightest pout. “you seemed really curious about it. i just... i just thought i’d offer.”
you bite your lip as you think. “what do you even know about that kind of thing? I thought you were a virgin loser.”
“ouch,” taerae says but quickly shrugs it off. “i guess you’re only right about half of that statement.”
you frown. even though you’d never talked about it before, was taerae secretly experienced? more experienced than you?
“you don’t have to say yes though,” he adds quickly. “i’m sorry; i probably shouldn’t have said any--.”
“okay,” you cut him off softly.
taerae’s eyes widen in surprise. “okay?”
you nod slowly. “i don’t believe you that you’re not a virgin loser, but if you’re offering...”
taerae sits up, leaning on his hands as a little smirk lights up his face. “i’ll eat you out and then you can eat those words. how does that sound?”
the way your heat flutters at his words catches you off guard. so does the way he swiftly flips you onto your back as you take the position he was just in.
“whoah,” you exhale, your best friend absolutely knocking the wind out of you as he positions himself between your thighs. he takes the hem of your shorts in his fingers, eyebrows raising at you expectantly. you lift up your hips enough for him to shimmy them off, discarding them on the floor without taking his eyes off your still-clothed center.
you glance at your underwear, panic immediately hitting you when you realize you wore the only clean pair that you had left...
a black, lace thong.
they were the only pair left, because you honestly hadn’t had a reason to wear them in a little while.
“fuck,” taerae curses, hands wrapped around the outsides of your thighs. “were you going somewhere after this or...?”
“if you don’t shut your mouth, i’ll be going somewhere before this,” you threaten, but the words come out shakier than you would’ve liked as taerae begins to plant open-mouthed kisses up your thighs. “... ‘s laundry day tomorrow.”
“mm, I see,” he replies, shifting his weight to one hand so he can bring his right hand to your heat. your heart rate rises as he moves towards where you’re quickly growing to need his attention most. two fingers press at your clothed-core gently and the sound of the tv in the background does nothing to dampen the moan that escapes you from just the small amount of pressure.
“laundry day’s coming just in time i think,” taerae says, a smirk highlighting his cavernous dimples in a light you’ve never seen before. “from the way you’re soaking through these.”
“shut up,” you groan, bringing your hands up to cover your face. taerae hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, tugging at them playfully to get your attention. peeking out through your fingers, you glare at him.
“do you want to stop?” he asks, removing his hands quickly. “we can stop if you want to or need to or anything.”
you reach down and grab both of his hands in yours, reattaching them to your underwear. “please keep going.”
he blinks at you for a moment before nodding, pulling your thong down your legs as you lift your hips up for him. taerae lies down fully in between your thighs now, guitar-string calloused hands wrapping around your thighs and guiding them to rest on his shoulders. 
“so pretty,” he whispers. eyes focusing on your throbbing cunt, taerae’s grip on your legs gets a little tighter-- a little more desperate. “really.”
“thanks,” you respond shyly, watching as a bit of steam begins to coat the rim of taerae’s glasses. you can’t help but smile as you reach for them, carefully removing the frames and placing them on the stand next to his bed. 
“thanks,” he echoes. 
“i’m still not convinced that you aren’t a-- oh fuck...” just as you’re about to tease your loser of a best friend again, his tongue finds your core and licks a long stripe up from your opening to your clit. taerae exhales a laugh against your pussy, tongue circling your clit as his hands now take hold of your hips.
“wait, what the fuck?” you whine breathlessly as he works you over with his mouth. “tae, i thought... oh my god.”
“taste so good, baby,” taerae moans like he’s enjoying it just as much as you are. he slips a finger in your entrance carefully, stretching you until he deems you ready for a second. “Think this pussy might be perfect.”
his eyes are closed; eating at you like you’re his favorite meal. it’s hot. way hotter than the scene from the show. way hotter than anything on that stupid show-- in which another sex scene is playing on the screen behind taerae. you suddenly feel so much pity for jocelyn; one of the hardest characters in history to pity. but the fact that there’s no way tedros fucking tedros is eating her out as good as taerae’s eating you out right now is tugging at your heart strings.
“tae,” you whimper, feeling the knot in the pit of your stomach begin to tighten. your hand tangling up in his hair at the nape of his neck causes him to moan into you and the vibration only makes you tug harder. “please, please wanna cum.”
“already? you sure?” he says, disappointment coating his voice. “could eat this pussy all night.”
“holy shit,” you exhale. you didn’t even know taerae was capable of talking like this. the only time he ever said pussy around you was if he was calling you one. now as he looks up at you from between your thighs, his pretty dimpled-smile covered in your juices as he continues to fuck you with his fingers and press his thumb against your clit...
you’re nodding frantically now. “please, please tae. make me cum.”
“fuck, baby, okay. whatever you want,” he agrees quickly, the lust in his eyes at your demand reaching a whole new level. he removes his thumb from your clit and the sudden lack of contact causes you to whine pathetically. “sshhh, don’t worry baby. i’ve got something even better, i promise.”
just as some tears from frustration are welling up in your eyes, taerae’s lips close around your clit and he begins to suck. “oh my GOD,” is all you can manage as your orgasm starts to wash over you. “taerae. oh my god, tae... c-cumming.”
you’re grinding your pussy against his tongue now to maximize the friction and the way he lifts your hips a bit to bring you even closer tells you that he’s loving every second of this. your moans match the ones that taerae is mewing into your core. he places your hips back down onto the mattress, holding them steady as you start to squirm a bit from the overstimulation. he continues to lap at you gently as your hand falls from his hair to his shoulder, causing him to look up at you.
your cheeks are red now from both your climax and the new wave of embarrassment that’s creeping up on you. you’re not sure what to say, but luckily taerae’s got you covered.
he inserts two fingers inside of you again and then pulls them out-- covered in your juices. without hesitating, he sticks them in his mouth and sucks them clean. “you’ve tasted yourself, right? probably a lot. fuck, i’m so jealous.”
your jaw drops a bit, now doubly unable to speak at the filth pouring out of your best friend’s mouth..
taerae frowns at you. “what? you want to make this awkward now?”
you shake your head. 
“was it good?” he asks, head tilting to the side as he squints slightly. you reach over to his nightstand and grab his glasses, handing them back to him. he puts them on; raising his hand to ruffle his hair.
“you know it was good,” you mumble annoyedly.
he grins. “yeah. i do.”
“UGH,” you groan, hiding behind your hands again. “i hate you.”
“please, pleeeease tae,” he mocks, climbing up closer to your face to really rub it in. “make me cum.”
“SHUT UP!” you shout, hitting his chest with your fists in annoyance. “do not get cocky about this.”
taerae shrugs, biting his lip to keep from smirking. “i guess you never wanna do this again then?”
you sigh defeatedly before replying softly, “i didn’t say that.”
“good,” he says with a smile-- shifting to the edge of the bed and standing up. “i’m gonna get you some water and a towel, okay? don’t move a muscle.”
you don’t. taerae had made sure of that with the orgasm he’d just pulled out of you. as the door to his dorm room closes behind him, you’re left with only your thoughts and the sound of that shitty tv show playing in the background. you reach for the remote weakly, pressing pause on a bizarre scene of the weeknd jerking it over a clothing rack (?).
all you can think about, though, is taerae lapping at your pussy like a starved man. what the fuck just happened? did you really just let your best friend eat you out?
and how the fuck had he managed to leave you wanting more?
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huggybearhughes43 · 1 month
Note
Idk if you’ve ever watched the Netflix movie “through my window” but there’s this one scene where the girl and the guy are laying in bed together and he slips his hand into her panties and starts to finger her while they’re in bed with someone else. They aren’t together and lowkey it’s like enemies with lots of sexual tension.
Anyway I was thinking that with Ethan Edwards? Maybe the reader is really good friends with the other umich boys and ends up going back to their house after a party and she’s inbetween Ethan and one of the other boys even though her and Ethan kind of can’t stand each other and he has his arm around her and starts to kinda of touch her everywhere which makes her involuntarily move against him and they end up having sex together
Pretty Girl
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Ethan Edwards x Fem! Reader
Warnings- smut, fingering, finger sucking (teehee), sharing the bed, pet names (pretty girl, brat, baby), Ethan is mean but gentle, very soft, riding, creampie (she’s on the pill), I think that’s it???
Summary- in the request
Work count- 1.5k
Drunken laughter filled Marks apartment as him and his teammates cram into the small place. But me? I was the designated driver to get back to this said apartment. It was nearly two in the morning, making me fearful to drive back onto campus to my dorm, if I was caught I’d be in big trouble for being out past curfew. Instead Marks little drunk giggles were in my ear while his girlfriend was asleep in his arms.
“I have a quest room” he says in a lame excuse for a hushed whisper. It was a wonder how Farah was still asleep on his chest. “But like…” he hiccups, “Ethan and Rut are sleeping in there” another hiccup from the drunk boy, “I’m sure you can find room”. I sigh softly, I can’t complain when he’s giving me a place to stay. I nod reluctantly and stand up, making my way to the spare room. The source of the drunkenness was the hockey seniors going away party. It was just pretty much the team and their girlfriends… and you know, me: the media girl.
Rutger was passed out on the right side of the bed when I walk in, drool on the corner of his mouth as his soft snore echoed in the room. He didn’t even care to attempt to wipe off the lipstick marks from his girlfriend Kayleigh as they were plastered all over his face. I was mildly surprised she wasn’t here, they were normally inseparable but I guessed her friends had taken her back to their place.
Ethan was sat up against the headboards with an arm behind his head, scrolling through his phone. I hated his guts. He was always stuck up and made snarky comments. He let his fame get in the way of a friendship with me, always thinking he was better than everyone else. But in reality, me the media, gave him his fame. I didn’t care to fix it though, I never let it bother me. Until now that is, his eyes meeting mine with a scoff. I narrow my eyes in disgust. “Mark told me I can sleep in here, he also said for you two to make room for me.” Ethan’s eyes look down at the floor. “A lot of room left down there.” I roll my eyes and step towards the bed.
I ignore his request as I crawl on the bed and squeeze between him and Rutger. “Go fuck yourself” I mutter and turn my back to him, so squished my face was practically pressed into the back of the snoring boy. I wiggle myself under the covers and close my eyes, slowly drifting to sleep. In my deep slumber I could feel a body lay beside me and an arm wrap around my waist. Normally, I’d be quick to push anyone off but in this state I couldn’t tell between a dream and reality.
My eyes flutter open to soft breaths against my neck. Rutger was still in front of me. My face heats up at the realization of who had me wrapped in their arms. I knew he wasn’t asleep because his soft thumb rubbing back and forth on my hip. I turn my head slightly. “What’re you doing, Ethan?” He groans softly with no response. “Ethan, I’m serio-“ I was cut off by his hand moving closer to the center on my stomach, just above the waistband on my sweatpants. “Do you ever know when to shut up?” He laughs softly as he moves his hand all over my stomach, hips, then eventually lifting it under my tank top to cup my bare breasts.
“Ethan.” I warn in a faint whisper, hoping I wouldn’t wake up Rutger. “What? Do you want me to stop? Hate me all you want but you know this feels good.” He chuckles as I gasp when he pinches one of my nipples. I don’t respond. “That’s why at I thought.” He laughs and presses a kiss to my shoulder. “Just wanted to thank you for looking out for us at the party. You’re still a brat, but thank you” a sudden realization hits me. “Ethan- you’re drunk” I try to swat his hand away “I didn’t touch a single drop of alcohol all night, pretty girl.” I let out a relieved sigh.
His large hand makes its way into my sweatpants and under my panties. I feel him smile against my shoulder when he slots a finger between my folds. I whimper softly and reach my hand down to hold his wrist, not to stop him but as support. “So wet for me.” He presses another sloppy kiss to my shoulder. Without warning his finger dips into my wet hole making me accidentally moan out. His other hand moves to wrap around my neck and cover my mouth. “I wanna hear those pretty moans so bad but we can’t wake him up”. He begins to thrust his thick finger in and out of my hole, I moan against his hand but it was still loud enough to potentially wake up Rutger.
“Fuck,” he removes his hand just to stuff two fingers into my mouth, “keep these warm for me, pretty girl.”. He works another finger into me. I screw my eyes shut and force myself to suck his fingers to block a moan. He removes his fingers from both my pussy and mouth causing me to whine. “Y/n, baby, my cock will feel so much better.” A quiet “oh” falls from my lips causing him to chuckle. He flips me over to face him and our eyes meet. I’m suddenly reminded that this is the same guy that pisses me off every single day. “It’s probably tiny.” I say without thinking. I expected him to get mad but instead a smirk plays on his lips. “Don’t be a fucking brat.”
He loops his fingers in my waistband and pulls them down enough for me to be able to kick them off. He doesn’t touch my panties in case rutger wakes up, he doesn’t want me to be completely exposed. In some strange way I find it cute that he’d protect me from another guys gaze. He pulls his own pants down just enough for his dick to spring free. He grabs one of my legs and places it over his hip, moving my panties to the side and pressing his dick to my entrance. I bite my lip at the realization that there was no way he was small. He laughs softly at my reaction and presses his forehead to mine. “It’s hard to admit you’re wrong huh, brat? Don’t worry, though…” he presses a soft and quick kiss to my lips then pulls away slightly, “I’ll go slow for you.”
He slowly presses into me, stretching me out in ways I didn’t know was possible. “Ethan…” I whisper. “I know, pretty girl, I’m almost all the way in.” As he finishes the sentence he bottoms out. My mouth falls agape and my eyes squeeze shut. He knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my moans in if he moved so for precaution, he forcefully pressed his lips into mine before moving. He snakes his hand around me and grabs my ass. He moves back, his tip was the only thing left in me before he slams back in. My moans are swallowed by his kiss. Rutger stirs causing Ethan to completely stop. “M’sorry, baby, but for this to work you’re gonna have to ride me.”
I whine softly and hoist myself on top of him. “There you go baby, don’t feel like being a brat anymore, huh?”. I let out a shaky breath before rounding my hips on him. My head drops to his shoulder as I rock back and forth sloppily. “There you go, pretty girl, just like that. Fuck, making me feel like I can cum already. “Ethan-“ I gasp out as I tighten around him. “I’m on the pill-“ my tummy tightens as my legs shake. Without warning my cream creates a ring around his cock. I stop moving out of exhaustion. Ethan chuckles softly and moves my hips for me, lifting me up and down on his cock. “Gonna fill you up, baby… you want me to fill you up?” He teases and I tiredly nod against his shoulder. His hips snap up into me as he holds me down, his thick ropes of cum filling me up.
I lift up off of him and fall back onto the bed. I re adjust my panties and put my sweatpants back on in case his cum leaked out of my swollen pussy. After he fixes his pants he pulls me into him. “M’sorry for being an asshole” he kisses my forehead, “I won’t stop but I am sorry.” I laugh quietly and nestle into his chest.
“Yeah well now I know how I can shut you up.”
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grippingbeskar · 10 months
Text
i wanna be yours
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frank castle x fem!reader
warnings: explicit content minors dni! 18+ (mxf, lil splash of dirty talk, first time together?) swearing, mentions of canon typical violence
a/n: based on this request from the lovely @lemon-world1 you know i’d write whatever you give me okay <3
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“Frank.” You breathe out at the sight of him. He’s the last person you would have thought would be on your doorstep. You thought… you could have sworn on your life that yesterday would have been the last time you’d ever see him.
It broke something in you, but it was for the best.
Your work was over. Whatever you did or didn’t have with him, all the late night stake outs and crammed car rides, it had to end when your business did. You both knew that. You didn’t live lives that were compatible with indulging the warmth he gave you every time he looked at you like he did.
Like he was right now.
He’s panting like he ran here, cropped hair sticking to the side of his face. Rain drips off his nose, slips over the healed cut on his cheek. You remember how he got it, how his blood splattered across your face and how you screamed his name. It was the first time you realised you needed him, that little scare.
“What are you doing here?” You manage to speak, but he’s not said a word. He’s just breathing hard, both hands gripping the edge of your doorframe, eyes boring into you. He’s so tall, he always looks down on you. Usually it doesn’t bother you, but right now you feel small. Like prey, waiting to be hunted down and torn apart. That’s how intense he is sometimes, and it’s impossible not to be sucked into it.
He steps into your apartment, and you step back to give him the room. Your eyes flutter, confusion and temptation swirling in a sudden battle in your stomach. This was not smart. You were a lone wolf— you worked alone. That’s how you survive.
You should tell him to leave.
Now.
His hand slips over yours, gently, to where your holding the door open. He takes over, and shuts it behind him. Your hand follows it, and when the lock clicks your fate shut, his hand doesn’t let yours go.
“Frank.” You say again, weaker this time. He lets his hand wander higher on your arm.
“I thought about it.” He says, his voiced dry and strained.
“Thought about what?”
“You. I’m always fuckin’ thinking about you.” He shakes his head, like he’s mad at himself for it.
You understand. You can’t get him out of your head, either.
“I’m not lettin’ you leave.” Frank says as he steps closer to you, and meets no resistance when you let him tug your hips closer to his. Despite the rain, he’s warm on your body, lighting up all the pieces of you that he’s made his own. “Don’t go.”
“I have to— our job is done here. This—“ You gesture between the both of you, where your chests nearly touch “— this has to be done, too. We put everyone in danger if I stay.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” He nearly growls it out. You bite your lip to stop a smile, his hands moving up to dance along your ribcage. He drops your eyes and scans your body, drawing along the line where the two of you meet. “I can’t let you go.”
“I don’t want to let you go, either. But what about—“
“I’ll figure it out. Just tell me you’ll stay with me.” His eyebrows furrow on his hardened face, and you want to smooth the lines of him. To take the tension out of his face like you know you can.
His words pull your heartstrings. You know you sacrifice everything, put everyone in danger if the two of you risk being seen together. But… the feeling of his hands along your body, the way his head dips and leaves a trail of zapping warmth along your jaw as he softly drags his mouth along your skin, tasting you. You couldn’t say no to him. You wouldn’t dream of it.
“Stay with me.” He calls to you again, and you’re already nodding when he claims your mouth and kisses you deep.
It moves quickly. It’s hard and fast, the way he scoops you up and wraps your legs around his hips. He spins you around, your apartment suddenly foreign to you as you get lost in the tangle of his tongue on yours. Things clatter and smash as he shoves you onto the nearest table, pressing your back to the wall. He groans when your hips roll against him, nipping your bottom lip with his teeth.
He grabs at your hips, your sides, your face— any part of you close enough to hold and pull closer is covered by his claiming hands. You drag your fingers through his wet hair, dragging the tips of your nails over his scalp. He groans again, muffling the sound against you as he starts to bruise your neck with his wandering mouth. You let your head fall back, feeling him suck at the skin under your jaw.
You want him to do it harder. More noticeable. You want people to know— you were his. Fuck everyone else, fuck safety. This was worth burning the world to the ground. His teeth nip at the sensitive skin, smoothing an apology with a warm kiss, and you moan his name.
“Frank.” The room echos it back to you, and you move again. Frank lifts you, attaching his mouth back to yours and encouraging the slow roll of your hips in his hands. He’s cupped your ass completely, gripping the flesh and slipping his hands under your shorts so he can touch more of you.
He was greedy like this. Always wanting more, wanting you to bare nothing to him. It was impossible to be insecure with him— he bathed every inch of your skin in adoration, whether it be with his mouth, his fingers or the rest of him. He was obsessive— hungry for it, and most of all he was fucking insatiable.
He lets your ass hit the cool marble of the kitchen counter, tugging the shorts down your bare legs as he kisses you deeper. He throws the scraps of material as far away as he can, like the further he throws it the longer you’ll be like this in front of him. Naked from the waist down, spread and warm in front of him. Just for him.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He mumbles against you, then one of his hands pushes your chest back. You catch yourself with your forearms, giving you a perfect view of Frank dropping to his knees and burying himself between your legs.
The moan you let out at the indulgent lick of his mouth through your folds is drowned out by his own. He hooks his arms around your body, letting your legs lock him in, and you feel the soft brush of his hair against your inner thighs as he drops lower, then comes back up.
He leaves no part of you without the pleasure of his mouth, messily fucking you open with his tongue like he’d fade away without the taste of you committed to memory. His lips wrap around your clit, and you feel the satisfied grin he gets when you cry out and shudder. He grips your thighs harder to keep you right where he wants you, and your eyes roll back into your head just as he looks up at you.
It’s too much— the skilled movements of his tongue and mouth against you. He knows you too well, knows exactly how to get you off in either the quickest or longest way. If he wants to give it to you, he can do it in record time. If he wants to tease you, he’d know how to keep you in bed for hours. Days, if he wanted. But right now, he only wants one thing, and it’s the reason why he’s being so giving. So, so generous.
He wants you to stay.
You tug hard on his hair, feeling the vibrations of his groan rush through to your chest. Your heart beats faster and faster, the pounding in your ears blurring everything to a dull white. When you cum, he just gets faster, wanting to taste more of you, feel the way your legs shake and your fingers wrap through his short hair and your hips ride his face through the high.
His head moves with you, side to side, up and down, the sounds so pornographic you think your neighbours will most definitely call the cops, but you can’t think enough to care. You scream his name, your body giving out and your back pressing flat against the countertop. Frank starts moving again when your breathing slows, the heat of his mouth kissing up your hip bones, leaving the mixed wetness of you and him along your skin and up your stomach.
“Baby… stay with me. Stay with me.” He tugs you closer, your legs dangling off the side. He’s now got you face to face, nose pressing against yours. In your post-bliss haze, time slows a little. You let your eyes drift over his face, fingers slip like the raindrops down his cheeks, soft and gentle. “I want you. Stay.”
“I’ll stay. I’ll stay.” You nod quickly, and kiss him hard. Your nose squishes his, and it only presses you closer when he wraps both his arms around your waist. You shuffle further on to the edge of the counter, and then your hands slip down further. “Here. Now.”
You had done a lot with Frank, but you hadn’t broken this barrier. You hadn’t crossed this final line, and you couldn’t think of a better time than now. To prove to him that you were his, that you wanted this as badly as he did. You didn’t know how to say it, but you could show him.
You undo his belt, and he just rests his hands on your hips and watches. Your deft fingers struggle just for a moment with the button, the watchful eye he gives you making you nervous. Your hands shake, and when you finally get them undone, he covers yours with his own.
“You tell me what you want. You call the shots.” He notices your nerves, and puts the gun in your hand. Hands over control. You shove his boxers down just enough, mouth almost watering at the sight.
“I want you. I want…” Your hand trails over his length, hot and heavy in your hand, and he groans, head falling to your shoulder. “I want this.”
His hands fall away, resting on your hips again, thumbs tracing circles along the skin. You spread your legs wider, accommodating his massive frame, and you both gasp into each others mouths when the length of him presses against your wet heat.
He looks up at you, and leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours. He kisses you, an attempt to distract, and it works so quickly you almost forget the pain of him sliding into you. You cry out softly, but it’s lost in the taste of his mouth, and you can feel him holding himself back, too. His grip on your hips is tight, and he can’t concentrate on kissing you when he bottoms out, instead pulling away and cursing.
“Oh, fuck.” He growls, then dives back to your mouth. He doesn’t move just yet, letting you get used to the stretch, but it doesn’t take long until your wriggling on the counter top, wanting nothing more for him to move.
The pain dissipates, and when he rolls his hips back into you again, it disappears completely. Instead it’s replaced by a foreign bloom of pleasure, one that no one else has made you feel. Maybe it’s because none of them have held your heart in their hands like he does. This feels different, because it is different. It’s terrifying and consuming you form the inside out, but it feels too good to stop, and you get lost in it before you can make sense of it.
“More, Frank. God— I want more.” You moan into his ear, and he bites gently on your shoulder as he speeds the snap of his hips. He hits you deeper like this, your legs wrapped around his back so he can’t get too far. Whatever you ask, he gives it to you ten-fold, so when you say you want more, he fucking delivers.
He drives into you, making you see stars with the approach of another rush of pleasure. One of your hands claws at his back, raking lines against the skin you’ve dipped under his shirt to find. His muscles flex under your harsh touch, and he fucks you faster when he feels your nails scratch along him. You know he loves the marks as much as you do— he’s yours as much as you are his, and he doesn’t care if people know, either.
“You feel so f—uhh-fucking good, baby. Fuck, I can’t last.” His voice is more broken than you’ve ever heard it, a scratchy sort of low growl as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. You can’t find words beside the strangled moans he fucks from you, and you just lock your legs behind him in a silent plea.
Your arms dig into him as you cum again, and he only manages two more strong drives of his hips against yours before he’s cumming with you, the feeling of you tightening around him pushing him over the edge with you. He keeps his head buried against you as he cums, singing a broken chorus of your name.
He stays buried inside of you when he picks you up again, your head not fully clear as your arms wrap around his neck and keep him close. You don’t know where he’s carrying you, and you think you don’t care until your body hits the bed— and then you sigh in relief.
Any tension that he didn’t fuck out of you is gone when he keeps you on top of him, letting your head flop and body relax against him and the fuzzy comforter you’ve chosen for the coldest nights in New York. His fingers push the fabric of your shirt up, and then dance along the line of your spine. The light sensation gives you goosebumps, and brings you back to reality, one that is almost as blissful as the dreams you’ve had.
“You’ll stay.” He says after a while, and you manage a nod. Just one, but it’s enough, a hum of satisfaction vibrating through his chest. When he wraps his arms around you, you drift into sleep, knowing you’d do whatever he asked.
But for now, you’ll stay.
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I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AND SAW THAT UR REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!
Could i request childe x fem!reader comfort fic? Reader is feeling overworked and burnt out and when she sees her boyfriend when he came over, all her built up emotions come crashing out. You can decide how he comforts her! :3
Awww thank you love!!!
I didn't know how much I needed this fic until you requested it ♡ thank you darling now we can all give our stresses to Childe. Lord knows he'll handle them for us.
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Childe x fem!reader II comfort, fluff
content warnings: self deprecating thoughts
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The pressure of the room bore down on you like an elephant sitting on your chest. You’d made so many promises, commitments, stacked mounds of responsibilities on yourself…to the point where it felt like every square inch of your brain was occupied with no space left for you to rest. 
Your thoughts were buzzing with alarm bells ringing with upcoming deadlines or the imaginary voices of people you had to apologize to and ask for extensions from—and you couldn’t even jump on the work you had to postpone now because you were paralyzed with exhaustion. Your mind kept screaming for you to go go go! but your body just couldn’t keep up. 
So here you found yourself on your couch, staring up at the ceiling while shaking with anxiety, your brain pulsating with a mix of fatigue and self-loathing. 
Why couldn’t you get it right?
Why couldn’t you get anything right?
You were so lost in your despair, you didn’t catch the large, slender hand waving a few times in front of your face, nor did you hear the warm timbre of your boyfriend’s voice calling your name. 
What finally shook you from your stupor was the feeling of rough lips gingerly meeting your forehead.
Your eyes finally focused on Childe’s crooked grin, his blue eyes brightened with amusement. He must’ve let himself into your apartment. 
Childe was so good at everything he did. 
He held down one of the hardest jobs you could imagine having; a Fatui harbinger with hundreds of subordinates awaiting his commands, mounds of paperwork and physical labor paired with the emotional labor of working in the brutal environment…and he was fine. He kept going. He never asked for a break or took time off; he’d just cram the things he wanted to do into his already tight schedule and delegate what spilled over. Sure, he’d come home tired, he’d need extra loving from you to recharge after a particularly grueling mission…but he would be back up and at ‘em the next day, running into the next battle right after the last…
Which made you feel so morbidly inadequate. 
Even now, he’s just come home from a twelve hour work day without an ounce of wear on his face—a bundle of joy and energy. He probably planned a date for you too, or grabbed something for dinner on the way home, or picked up some extra paperwork during the work day so he could sleep in with you tomorrow—he just achieved so much.
His life is so much harder than yours and he’s not half the mess that you are. In fact, he isn’t a mess at all. 
It made you want to cry. 
Oh, no, you were crying. 
Your boyfriend’s face paled in horror as he watched you sniffle and burst into a fountain of tears upon the mere sight of him. 
“Hey, hey, sweetheart! What’s the matter?”, a nervous chuckle fell from his throat as he combed his fingers through your hair comfortingly—twisting one of the soft locks around his pointer finger subconsciously, a little habit he picked up long ago when he’d finally earned the pleasure of cuddling you and touching the parts of you he so admired. 
“I’m nothing like you.”, was all you could sputter out as sobs wracked your tired body. 
He tilted his head in confusion, “...that’s…right?”, he didn’t understand what made the distinction so blasphemous. 
“I just–”, you fumbled for your words as your brain short-circuited its vocabulary, “I suck so much.”
“WHAT?”
You’ve thrown your poor boyfriend through a loop. You’re the most incredible person he’s ever met! He’s charted the course for the rest of his life on the sole mission of making you happy, of giving you everything you’ve ever wanted, because he’d fallen so deeply in love with every inch of you. You were perfect. How could you think any differently when he spends every waking moment of his life telling you that? 
He doesn’t need to hear anything else. From the sight of you alone—your sunken eyes lined with dark circles, your eyebrows scrunched together in painful stress, your cheeks devoid of color, he could tell your body was quitting on you and your mind was suffering for it. 
“Aaah, sweetheart, don’t tell me you’ve been biting off more than you can chew again…or rather, not biting anything at all—when was the last time you’ve eaten?”
His question did not require an answer—he was aware of your habit of neglecting your physical needs over your metaphysical demands. Without another word, he snatched the fuzzy blanket draped on the end of the couch and collected his adorable little bundle of tears up into his arms before carting her off to the kitchen. 
You squirmed in his grasp, trying to push your way back onto your feet, but he wasn’t having it—taking both of your wrists in one of his large hands while holding you in one arm, tugging you over to his lips for a quick kiss as he never broke his stride. Childe’s strength was initially a big draw of yours to him; you drooled over him when he’d carry heavy things for you, swoon watching him train…but now that you’re his other half, his physical prowess gets to be a real pain in the ass when he decides to manhandle you. 
He carries you all the way to the kitchen counter where he plops you down on the edge and wraps you up the cozy blanket—an opponent easily and tactfully subdued. 
When you try to get up, whining that you have work you should be doing, he only slips his arms around you in a tight, loving vice; keeping you prisoner in his blanket cocoon. 
“Ah ah ah! Not so fast. You may be ignoring her cries, but I hear her loud and clear—your body needs rest.” 
“Childe, I’m serious! I’m already behind—”
“And you’ll fall even further behind if you keep pushing yourself past your limit. Tonight, you’re done thinking about any tasks you have lined up. The world’s not going to end if you save your work for tomorrow.”
He was accepting no further argument as he sighed into the big warm embrace, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck and humming contentedly. As he squeezed, you felt all of the stress drain out of you, letting go of your worries for the time being. No matter what flurry your mind might be spinning in, it’s like your body was programmed to go limp in Childe’s arms—he overwhelmed you with a feeling of safety. Nothing could go wrong when you were in your boyfriend’s hold, he guaranteed that. 
He pressed kisses to your tear-soaked cheeks, cooing reassurances to you between each one. 
“Your worth is not equal to the amount of work you accomplish.”
“In my eyes, you’ll never fall short of anything but perfect.”
“I love you, sweetheart.”
For the first time in what felt like days, you were able to take a deep breath and feel the tension in your shoulders release. The stress fell off of you like a cloud of smoke, leaving you sleepy and spent while huddled in Childe’s embrace. He couldn't help himself from stealing a few long, indulgent kisses from your pouty lips---he was a man, after all, and your sweet, sleepy face made him want to devour you.
He chuckled as he felt your body stop fighting and yield to rest—a little win for him against his most beloved, adorable opponent. He pressed one last kiss to your temple letting go of you and strutting over to the bag of groceries by the fridge.
“I grabbed some stuff for dinner on my way here, I'll whip something good up for you.”
“I knew it.”, you thought, that same pang of incapability stringing your heart before you took another deep breath and let it go.
Yes, Childe has the capacity to go above and beyond in ways you can’t right now, but that doesn’t mean you’ll always fall short. You two are completely different people, you have strengths he doesn’t just as he has strengths you don’t. As you watch him roll up his sleeves and get to work chopping vegetables---your eyes roaming over the deep scars of battle that mar his skin, you recall how Childe struggles to open up about his emotions, while you can coax him into talking about his feelings and giving him the support he typically denies himself. You have a capacity for compassion many fail to mirror, bringing brightness to the lives of those around you—even strangers. And you have a cordial charm that draws others in, a big reason you’ve been saddled with the pile of work you’re suffocating under—people find you reliable and trustworthy. 
That’s why you and Childe work so well together; one of you can pick up what the other drops. You hold each other up so you can both move forward. 
So you know you can trust him when he tells you you’re perfect, because you think he’s perfect too ♡
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yokohamapound · 10 months
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BSD Boys With a Nervous Flier S/O
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For Amulet! <3
(I added Chuuya for me. :P)
Characters: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Edogawa Ranpo, Nakahara Chuuya
Contents: NSFW jokes/references, fear of flying.
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Dazai Osamu
Don’t bother trying to hide it. Dazai can pick up on every tiny little tell, so unless you’ve got the world’s best poker face, he’ll figure it out before you say a single word. It’s all there, the shrunken pupils when he shows you the tickets, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants when you’re booking the taxi to the airport, the harsh, unsteady breathing when you’re queueing to check in. 
For once, wisely, he drops the double suicide jokes. The last thing you need to think about right now is you or him dying, and he’s that much of an ass. Most of the time.
He wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaning in and whispering in your ear so it doesn’t carry to the other passengers in the boarding queue. “Guess what?”
You frown, distracted momentarily, and look at him. “What?”
His eyes glitter with mischief, and his smile widens into a full blown smirk. “You know how your ears sometimes pop when the cabin pressure changes? They say you should have chew gum or suck on candy.”
Your eyes narrow, suspicious. Dazai leans down to look into your eyes, grinning. 
“I don’t have any candy, but I’ve got something you can su—oww!”
He deserved to have his foot trodden on, really. Dazai might pout, but internally he’s smug that his plan to distract you worked. He’s got plenty more like that up his sleeve. 
Fyodor Dostoevsky
Flying with Fyodor is something different entirely. With the weight (and wallet) of the Decay of Angels behind him, he would never fly on a commercial airline. Normally he doesn’t care much - he’ll take a helicopter or some other type of solo plane. If he’s taking his precious myshka though, he’s flying in style. 
Naturally, he already knows about your fear of flying.
You can take comfort in the fact that Fyodor has literally already thought of everything. There are multiple contingency plans for any conceivable emergency onboard the jet. He has a backup helicopter. There are parachutes. There are backup parachutes. 
All you have to do is get dolled up and sit pretty on one of the luxurious recliner seats, being fed little tidbits of fruit and cake and sipping champagne. Fyodor has his laptop out, watching the endless screeds of incomprehensible information, one resting on your thigh, thumb tracing circles into your warm, soft skin. 
If you want a sedative, he’ll allow it, though his tone is subtly disapproving. He doesn’t like seeing you passed out (unless he’s been the one to drug you or exhaust you, naturally.) Still, if it makes you feel better.
He has…other methods to distract you however. Ones you’ll learn all about when he orders the cabin crew out of the main seating area and draws the curtains. You’ll be flying so high you might not even notice you’ve landed. 
Edogawa Ranpo
Ranpo has an easy solution to all your fears and anxieties—he’s such a baby that you have to look after him and you just won’t have time to worry about the plane going down, because you’ll be trying to convince him he can’t cram a whole gumball machine in his suitcase.
“It’ll fit!”
“You know it won’t! It’s physically impossible. You’re supposed to be a genius!”
“Well, I'm on vacation!”
He’s exuberant and excited to wander through Duty Free and buy all the varieties of chocolate and snacks they sell. Ranpo isn’t getting on that plane without snacks. Have you eaten plane food? That’s simply not going to cut it for the World’s Greatest Detective. 
It’s almost…calculated, the way he seems to rush off to a new thing every time your jitters start coming back. Your heart starts to race, your mouth goes dry, and then you notice Ranpo is gone from your side again. 
By the time you get onto the actual plane, you’re lowkey exhausted, and he still looks as smug as ever, his bag of chips rustling as he snacks in his seat. He opens his eyes, looks around the plane with that sharp, green gaze, then shrugs and settles against the backrest. 
“Nothing wrong with the plane, we’ll be fine,” he declares, tossing a chip into his mouth. “Do you think they have Ramune?”
Nakahara Chuuya
Chuuya is a well-travelled guy due to his position as a Port Mafia executive and enforcer. It seems as if he gets sent abroad now and then to look after the mafia’s foreign interests and contracts. Koyo seems to stay back more, acting as Mori’s advisor, so it’s Chuuya who racks up the airmiles. He generally travels first or business class, because he’s not about to be back in the cattle runs—sorry, economy. 
He’s so used to it by now that booking the flights, packing, and getting to the airport are a breeze. It’s so mundane to him that he’s a little surprised to find out how frightened you are. He has to admit, it’s kinda cute. 
He lounges next to you in your first class seats, a glass of wine in one hand and your hip in the other, cuddling you against his side. 
“Dollface, what’re you shakin’ for?” he teases, poking you in the ribs. “You forgettin’ who you’re flyin’ with?”
Oh. That’s right. Mr. Gravity Master himself. 
“So if something happens, you could stop the plane falling?” you ask, almost in disbelief. 
He scoffs. “What do you take me for? You’re gonna be on the safest flight in existence. They should be paying me to fly.”
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yaekiss · 11 months
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no thoughts just dragon dan heng in heat being horny 24/7. like you'll have to physically DRAG this man off your dick so he doesn't kill you of exhaustion. i will take my leave now
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꩜ Room Content: Dom! Top! AMAB! Reader x Sub! Bottom! IL Dan Heng, no gendered terms for reader, mentions of IL Dan Heng having 2 dicks, breeding kink, mating press, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: ANON UR BRAINNNNNN, this brainrot plagued me for like a week as evident from this other ramble I wrote for Dan Heng orz... THE GRIP THIS MAN HAS ON MY BRAIN (and my dick) !! KEEP UR IDEAS COMING ANON (just like how Dan Heng keeps you coming in him I MEAN WHATTT)
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Under the influence of his heat, Dan Heng is near insatiable.
You can always tell when his heat is coming up with the way he’s constantly trying to rile you up. Trailing a hand up your thigh under the table when you sit next to him in the parlor car, sinfully whispering about how he needs you inside him right nowwww! He becomes increasingly clingy, dragging you off to his room to cuddle and wrap his tail around you like he’s trying to press every inch of him onto your skin. It’s not surprising if the cuddle session turns a little more heated when he tries to rut against your thigh as he crams his face into the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. 
If you thought he was bad before his heat, you’re ill-prepared for the whore he becomes during his heats. Really, it’s as if he can’t live without your dick inside him 24/7, always whining and begging, close to tears when you need to stop and pull out of him to catch your breath. Normally, Dan Heng wouldn’t behave like this. However, one must not underestimate the neediness of a dragon in heat. Need to go shower? It’s ok you can fuck him in the shower, he can suck you off as he kneels on the tiled floor. Need go to the kitchen to grab something to eat? He’s following you and spreading his ass so you can eat him out. Huh, that’s not what you meant??
“Let’s go for hhah… one muh- more round, please [name]!”
It’s a little ridiculous how slutty he gets, all the knowledge he’s gained from the erotica he secretly reads every time he misses you at night is finally getting put to good use. He wants you to fuck him in every position possible but he absolutely loves it when you manhandle him into a mating press, the feeling of you reaching unthinkably deep in him gets him all shaky with lust. The searing grip you have on the back of his thighs as you push his knees up to his shoulders combined with how your length slides into his warm hole has him giddy with pleasure. He’s purring loudly at how your cock hits all the right spots in him and his tail is flicking wildly on the bed. Stuffing him full of your cum isn’t enough, he needs to get bred. 
“Hnngh! You ff- fuck! -feel so sososo good in mE!! Breed me breed me pleaseplease [naME]!”
Nothing is stopping him from wringing out every single drop of cum from you, if you tire easily, no problem, he’ll just ride you! As much as you’d like to complain, the sight above you is fucking gorgeous. Dan Heng has his head thrown back in pure ecstasy, his makeup is smudged, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he moans and cries. When he bounces on your cock, his own dicks slap up against his tummy and he whimpers so beautifully at the added stimulation. His walls clamp down hard on your length to try to milk you for all you’re worth. He doesn’t have to worry about not being able to walk tomorrow because as far as he knows, the two of you will be fucking alllll week! (Dan Heng’s line of reasoning is: No need to walk if all you’re gonna do is fuck uncontrollably like bunnies!)
He only has one thing on his mind: getting bred by you ♡
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Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡
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