#[ GIRL HE LETS YOU CRASH THERE FOR FREE ]

[hildannette]

i finished zero escape zero time dilemma (or well. more like i rage quitted and pieced together everything else anyway) and all i can say is that i don’t think i’ve crashed out this hard about a game ending (negative) since drv3

[bybrophelia]

@tewwor sent: It's peaceful here. Among a sweet-scented warmth that accents the dying spill of sunset through wide kitchen windows. There's something soft humming in the background — an old Western song that croons of a love lost. Though the words don't hold much sway over him nowadays, there's still an impression of melancholy that guides his movements. From piping hot oven to a stationed cooling rack, he's unable to prevent a quiet sigh from falling. Thumbprint cookies, where the prints are in the shape of a paw. It's a cute idea — one he cannot, and will not, ever take credit for. A handful of chocolate chips just made it into his hands when a lazing hound suddenly perks; ears up and forward, great big head facing the hallway that leads into the living room. "You're just in time," he calls out, not entirely certain of who entered the otherwise empty home. Yet Aki hasn't gone off the rails so the dog must be familiar with the guest. ⇶ Haruo && Nami

The telltale tapping of nails on the floor alerted her. Nami froze midstep; the straps of her shoes were suspended from her finger. Nothing got past the dog, did it? Well . . . at least Haruo had a good security system. Her unoccupied hand was presented to the dog's wet muzzle to allow the customary sniff. Once vetted and satisfied, the redhead felt the damp nose nudge against her palm. "Stamp of approval?" Nami cooed, gently cradling the folds of Aki's face. Into the kitchen she crept, guided by the sweet smell of fresh-baked cookies. Behind her, the pants and padding of the Tosa Inu meant that Aki was in tow. "You know," Nami's fingers fastened to his broad shoulder blades to fix him in place while she slid behind him, "cookies aren't accepted currency." A soft, melodic lilt kited her words. They smelled incredible: the temptation no doubt amplified by her lack of sustenance throughout the day. This enticing aroma only served as a reminder. That . . . and the instant belligerent bellow by her stomach that it triggered. "But! I'll take one—if you're offering."

unprompted 🍊

[kaitoru]

sige magalit ka, fuck me harder.

you’re still buzzing from the bar, where a group of college boys had the nerve to flirt with you right in front of kento, who’d watched with a clenched fist and a stare that could cut glass.

he didn’t say much then, just pulled you away with a hand on your lower back, his touch firm, possessive, but now, in the empty lot, his restraint is fraying, his eyes dark with something primal.

“kento, you’re brooding.” you tease, your voice light, poking his chest as he unlocks the car, his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up, his blonde hair slightly mussed from running his hand through it.

“they were just kids, you know, harmless.”

“harmless.” he repeats, his voice low, almost a growl, his eyes flicking to you, sharp and unamused, as he opens the back door. “they were looking at you like you were theirs. you’re not.”

his tone’s possessive, a rare crack in his disciplined facade, and it sends a thrill through you, your heart racing, you smirk, stepping closer, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, fast and heavy.

“jealous, huh?” you say, voice daring, leaning up, your lips close to his. “didn’t think you’d care that much.” he exhales, sharp, his hand gripping your wrist, not hard, but firm, his eyes locking on yours.

“get in.” he says, nodding to the backseat. “now.” you raise an eyebrow, the thrill spiking, but you obey, sliding into the backseat, the leather cool against your skin.

he follows, shutting the door, the space tight, intimate, the windows fogging already. “kento, here?” you ask, your voice teasing but breathy, your dress riding up as you shift, his eyes tracking every inch.

“you think i’m letting you walk away after that?” he says, his voice rough, leaning over you, his hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your dress higher, his fingers on your skin.

“they don’t get to look at you like that, you’re mine.” His words are possessive but his eyes search yours, checking, waiting for your approval.

you nod, your breath hitching, your hands pulling at his shirt, desperate. “yours.” you murmur, your voice soft, needy, and that’s all he needs, his lips crashing into yours, hard and urgent, his tongue claiming, his hands quick, yanking your panties down, tossing them to the floor.

“quiet.” he warns, his voice low, unbuttoning his pants, freeing himself, his cock hard, ready, his hand guiding it to your entrance, slick and waiting.

“we’re not alone out here.” his tone’s firm, but his touch is careful, his fingers brushing your clit, making you gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders.

“kento..” you moan, your voice breaking, your hips bucking as he pushes inside, quick and deep, the stretch intense.

hi hand clamps over your mouth, muffling you, his eyes dark, focused, watching you fall apart. “not a sound.” he growls, his voice strained, thrusting fast and hard, each stroke possessive, claiming, his hand on your hip, pulling you onto him.

“you’re mine, love, only mine.” his words are a low rumble, his thumb circling your clit, fast and rough, making you whimper against his palm, your body trembling. “fuck, kento..” you mumble, muffled, your voice desperate, your thighs shaking, the pleasure sharp, building fast in the tight space, his thrusts relentless, the leather creaking, the air thick.

his eyes stay on you, checking you’re with him. “good girl.” he murmurs, his voice breaking, his hand sliding from your mouth to your hair, gripping gently, his thrusts faltering as he gets close.

“cum for me, now.” he says, his voice urgent, his thumb pressing harder, and you do, your orgasm hitting, your body clenching tight around him, a stifled cry escaping, your nails digging into his back.

[sugusama]

꒰🎀꒱﹒ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 ﹒⟢ featuring: kamo choso, kento nanami, satoru gojo, suguru geto, fushiguro toji, ryomen sukuna ‧₊˚ . ꣑୧

sypnosis ☆ the jjk men never knew you were a freak in the sheets, here’s how they react to you acting out your kinks ⸝⸝ ᰔ ̫ ᰔ⸝⸝

content warnings ☆ smut! 18+, age gap, petnames, choking, slapping, manhandling, spit play, hair pulling, bruising ๑•́ ₃ •̀๑

word count ☆ 1.1k

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

he always touched you so carefully.

choso held you like porcelain. kissed you like your skin might bruise from it. slow strokes, soft grunts, warm aftercare. he was a giver—always asking if it felt good, always stopping if your breath hitched too sharply. so when you wrapped your legs around his waist one night and whispered, “you can choke me,” he froze.

you felt his cock twitch inside you.

“what?” he rasped, pulling back just enough to see your face.

“want you to use me, choso,” you breathed, lips kiss-swollen and pupils blown. “you don’t have to hold back.”

it was like flipping a switch. something ancient, primal, unfurled in him.

he was on you again in seconds—hand wrapped around your throat, heavy but careful. you gasped, eyes fluttering as pressure bloomed behind your eyes, and choso moaned at the sight.

“fuck, baby… you like that?” he muttered, voice guttural. “you like when i squeeze you like this?”

you nodded—barely—his grip tightening just enough to make you dizzy.

his thrusts changed too. harder, deeper, the kind that knocked the air out of you. his free hand pinned your thigh up to your chest, fucking into you with a desperation you’d never seen in him.

“been wanting this?” he panted. “wanna be ruined by me?”

“yes! nnggh fuck! cho—!”

you came like a wave crashing down, body trembling, mouth open in a silent scream.

and choso just kept going.

“my good girl,” he whispered, still fucking your twitching cunt, hand sliding from your throat to your jaw, thumb dragging over your lip before slipping into your mouth. “you take it so well. my nasty little angel.”

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

nanami was always so proper. straight-laced. reserved.

so when you whispered across his office desk one night, “i want you to use me like a slut, nanami,”

he didn’t hesitate.

“is that so?” he muttered, loosening his tie with one hand, the other gripping your chin as he tilted your head back. “my darling wants to be ruined?”

you nodded—and he bent you over the desk.

“hands flat,” he ordered, hiking your skirt up and sliding your panties down, slow and smooth like he had all the time in the world.

he spat on your cunt before pushing two fingers in deep.

“so wet already,” he said calmly, voice still tight with restraint. “what a greedy little thing you are.”

you gasped as he pushed inside with no warning, heavy and thick, the edge of the desk digging into your hips as he pounded into you from behind. and the praise… the fucking praise.

“you’re taking me so well, sweetheart,”

“just like that, good girl,”

“that’s it, let me fuck you dumb.”

when you begged for him to slap you, he paused—only a beat—before landing a firm, stinging smack to your ass. then another. then across your cheek, light but firm, just enough to send you spiraling.

“you asked for this,” he murmured, pulling your head back by your hair. “so take it.”

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

“spit in my mouth,” you moaned one night, sprawled under him, skin flushed and slick. “please, ‘toru—just do it.”

he stilled. blinked. then smirked like you handed him a toy.

“you nasty little slut,” he purred. “i knew it. all that innocent shit? fake. you’ve been waiting for daddy to ruin you.”

he grabbed your cheeks, forced your mouth open wide. let a thick string of spit drip from his tongue to yours, then leaned down to kiss it sloppily back into your throat.

“don’t swallow yet,” he whispered. “keep it there.”

and then he fucked you.

legs pinned over his shoulders, body folded in half, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as he drilled into you, laughing every time you choked on your own spit.

“look at you,” he cooed, “drooling, shaking—my perfect little cumdump.”

you came three times. didn’t even know your name by the end.

“i’ll never let you act innocent again,” he said with a grin. “you’re mine.”

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

“pull my hair,” you whispered, nails raking down geto’s back. “hurt me.”

he raised a brow.

“didn’t expect that from such a sweet mouth,” he said.

then he grabbed your hair and pulled until your neck arched back and your lips parted.

“so you like it rough?” he asked, slapping your tit with an open palm. you gasped. “there’s more where that came from, baby.”

he forced you to ride him, hair in his fist, other hand bruising your ass as he bounced you on his cock. every time your tits jiggled, he slapped them again. you moaned, crying out, pain and pleasure blending.

“look at my messy little girl,” he whispered, low and dark, “so desperate to be used, you’ll let me bruise every inch of you.”

and when you came? he didn’t stop.

he fucked you through it, soft kisses on your cheeks while his cock split you open, saying,

“shhh, baby, take it. take it all. good girls don’t run.”

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

you asked to be broken, and toji fushiguro delivered.

“say it again,” he growled, slapping his thick cock against your tongue.

“want you to ruin me,” you moaned, throat already sore, legs trembling. “use me, please—”

he grabbed your face, spit into your mouth, and smeared it across your cheek with his thumb.

“you are mine to use,” he snarled, shoving you onto your stomach, pinning your wrists behind your back with one hand as the other lined up his cock and slammed into you hard.

you screamed.

he didn’t stop. fucked you deep, rough, relentless. left handprint bruises on your ass, bite marks on your shoulder, scratches down your back.

“cry for me,” he grunted, “scream if it hurts. i wanna hear it.”

you came with your cheek pressed into the sheets and your legs shaking.

“good little girl,” he said, voice raw. “can’t get enough, can you?”

and he kept going until you passed out.

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

you said it like a prayer.

“sukuna—please—i want you to break me.”

he laughed. Laughed.

“you want pain?” he sneered, licking his fangs. “i’ll give you more than you can handle, little whore.”

he slapped you across the face first—just to see how you took it. and when your eyes fluttered, lips parted, thighs squeezed together?

he lost it.

he spat in your mouth, made you open wide and swallow.

he pulled your hair so hard you cried out, shoved his cock in your throat and made you gag, tears dripping off your chin.

he called you his “dirty bitch,” his “pretty little hole,” his “favorite toy.”

and you loved it.

“no one else could take me,” he whispered, voice laced with cruelty as he fucked you stupid. “only you. my pathetic little fuckdoll.”

you came sobbing. overstimulated. used. ruined.

and he kissed your cheek after. just to mock you.

authors note: yeaaa… this was in the drafts if u cant tell!

[slvbum]

BETTER THAN HIM ♡ Rafe Cameron!

content WARNING: bsf!rafe, smut, voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), piv, unprotected sex, tit sucking, breeding kink. +18 MDNI.

“He cheated on me,” she said, voice flat, staring at the ceiling. “In St. Tropez. Some French chick he met at that club.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, his beer pausing halfway to his mouth. Her boyfriend, ex now, he guessed, was a dick anyway, but this?

“Fuck him,” he said, setting the bottle down hard. “You’re too good for that asshole.”

She laughed, bitter, then looked at him, eyes glinting with something dangerous.

“Liar.” 

But it sounded like she was daring him, and that was all it took. Rafe was on her in a heartbeat, pinning her to the couch, his lips crashing into hers, no holding back. She kissed him back just as hard, hands yanking at his shirt, manicured nails scraping his skin. The tension from weeks of teasing in St. Tropez snapped like a rubber band, and they were tearing at each other’s clothes, her shorts hitting the floor, his jeans following.

He shoved her thighs apart, dropping between them without a word.

“He never did this right, did he?” Rafe growled, remembering a drunk confession she’d made months ago: how her ex barely went down. Rafe wasn’t that guy. He spread her open, her pink pussy already wet, and dove in—tongue flat and slow, licking up her slit, tasting her like he’d been starving for it. She gasped, hips bucking, fingers twisting in his hair.

“Fuck—Rafe—”

He sucked her clit hard, flicking it with his tongue, then buried his face deeper, lapping at her like a man possessed, her juices coating his chin.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he mumbled against her, thrusting his tongue inside, making her moan loud and desperate.

She came fast, thighs clamping around his head, shuddering as he licked her through it, not stopping until she was a trembling mess. He pulled back, wiping his mouth with a smirk, climbing up to kiss her hard, letting her taste herself on his lips.

“That’s how it’s done,” he said, shoving his boxers down. His cock sprang free, and her eyes darkened with want. An hunger that she had been holding back.

“Fuck me,” she demanded, spreading her legs wider, and Rafe didn’t need to be told twice. He lined up and slammed into her, one brutal thrust that buried him balls-deep, her pussy tight and hot around him. She cried out, nails raking his back, and he set a punishing pace, the couch creaking under them.

“Gonna fuck you so good he’ll feel it,” he growled, grabbing her tits, squeezing them hard before ducking down to suck one into his mouth. He bit the nipple, tongue swirling, then switched to the other, sucking hard enough to leave marks. “These are mine now—been dreaming about them.”

Her moans were loud, egging him on as he pounded into her, the wet slap of their bodies filling the room.

“You’re so—fucking—big,” she gasped, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper.

“Look at you, taking my cock like a fuckin’ champ—so tight, so wet for me. He never fucked you like this, did he?” He grinned and she shook her head, breathless, a sign that made him thrust harder, like he was getting revenge. Fuck that dickhead Jack. He thought.

The door banged open mid-thrust, and her ex stormed in—Jake, red-faced and wide-eyed, keys dangling in his hand like he’d planned some grand apology. He froze, staring at them: Rafe balls-deep in his girl, her legs spread, tits bouncing as he fucked her senseless. Rafe didn’t stop, didn’t even flinch. He kept going, hips snapping forward, her pussy clenching around him as she moaned louder, caught in the heat of it.

“Look at this, huh,” Rafe called out, voice dripping with venom. He grabbed her jaw, tilting her head toward Jake, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Look how I’m fuckin’ her good—better than you ever did, you piece of shit.”

Jake’s mouth opened, but no words came out, his face twisting with rage and humiliation. Rafe smirked, slamming into her harder, making her cry out, her eyes locked on her ex as Rafe railed her.

“She’s mine now—so, watch her take a real man cock.”

He shifted, hooking her legs over his shoulders, spreading her wider, and went deeper, his cock hitting spots that had her screaming.

“Oh, fuck—Rafe—yes—” she chanted, too far gone to care who was watching. Rafe’s hands gripped her thighs, his pace brutal, filthy words spilling out.

“Gonna fill this pussy up—make it mine. He’s never getting you back after this.” Jake stood there, rooted, as Rafe sucked her tit again, biting down, then licked a stripe up her neck, owning every inch of her.

Her pussy tightened, her second orgasm crashing through her, and Rafe felt it, her walls pulsing, milking him.

“That’s it, baby, come all over my cock,” he groaned, thrusting through it, his own edge hitting fast. He didn’t pull out—fuck that. He buried himself deep, groaning loud as he came, pumping her full of his cum, hot spurts flooding her, so much it started leaking out around his cock even before he finished. “Fuck, take it all,” he rasped, hips jerking as he emptied inside her.

He pulled out slow, her pussy a mess, pink, swollen, dripping with his load, creamy white streaking down her thighs. Rafe glanced at Jake, still frozen in the doorway, and smirked, spreading her open with his fingers so her ex could see his masterpiece.

“Look at that—filled her up, fucked her right. You’re done, champ.”

She lay there, panting, fucked-out and glowing, a smug little smile on her lips as she caught her breath.

Jake’s fists clenched, his face purple with fury, but he didn’t move... just stood there, watching his ex get claimed in a way he’d never come close to. Rafe leaned back, cocky as hell, wiping sweat from his brow.

“Get the fuck out,” he said, voice cold, and Jake finally turned, slamming the door behind him. She laughed, pulling Rafe down for a kiss.

“You’re an asshole,” she murmured, but her eyes said she loved it—and he wasn’t done with her yet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ©slvbun(m) — written with love.

[julymusings]

simplicity

out there they're afraid even of the killer's shadow, and here i reside in his heartbeat like a home

or; the big bad red hood has a soft spot only for you [3.4k]

jason todd x fem!reader; tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff; aggressive unwanted advances, implied roofie attempt, violence & blood, slut-shaming; Jason “my girl can wear whatever she wants I can fight” Todd; in da clerb, we all fam ⎯ based on this !

series masterlist

A humid, crowded, upscale club isn’t the most ideal way to spend your Friday night, and Jason knows this. Frankly, it’s not his either, but as the owner of the humid, crowded, upscale club, he had to make some appearances at his own business.

“It’s a night out,” he had said. “Let’s make the most of it.”

If you’re being honest, it’s also not the worst way to spend your Friday night. Not when Jason dressed up so deliciously, in a fitted t-shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket. Not when he took you to a booth in the corner of the club and had them bring over your favorite drinks and snacks with the order to keep them coming. Not when you got to wear that cute little black dress that’s been hanging in your closet for months with your favorite strappy heels, the ones with ribbons that wrapped around your ankle and tied into a bow in the back. Not when Jason sat you on his lap and settled a large hand on your thigh, where it stayed the whole night.

All in all, you would say you’re making the most of it. 

You’re sipping on your drink, chatting about something or the other with your boyfriend. He’s half listening, half drawing circles on your thigh and pressing kisses to your shoulder when one of the employees finds you. She’s freaking out because one of the performers hasn’t shown up, and there’s no one else to go in her place.

Jason huffs. He lifts you off his lap and sets you down on the seat. “I’m sorry, baby, I just gotta take care of this. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be here.” You smile over the rim of your glass.

He looks around for a moment, then gestures to someone across the room. One of the bouncers make their way to you.

“Just keep an eye out,” he tells him. “I don’t trust these entitled country club fuckers.”

He gives a curt nod. Jason leans in close, smirking, and says, “Especially not when you look like that,” and gives you a quick kiss before disappearing into the crowd with the employee.

A couple minutes later, a crash snaps your attention towards the bar. A young, college-aged-looking man is berating a waitress while a mess of shot glasses litter the floor around them. The waitress looks about to cry.

“Jesus Christ,” the bouncer says to himself. Then to you, “Gimme a second.”

You move to the edge of the booth to watch as he goes over and tries to pacify the man, but that only seems to make him angrier. He shoves the bouncer, yelling about “shitty customer service.” 

You don’t get to see what happens next, though, because your field of vision is obscured by an enormous, very shiny, and very douchey silver belt buckle. You look up for its owner, and a greasy-looking, white-haired man looks down at you. 

“Hey there, sweetheart.” A fake gold tooth catches the flashing lights and it glints in your eye. Uninvited, he slides into the booth across from you. He places a drink on the table, sliding it towards you. “You look thirsty. Got this for you.”

“No, thanks. I’ve got one.” You hold your own glass up.

He rolls his eyes. “Pretty thing like you should be takin’ advantage of all the free drinks you could be gettin’.” His smile sends a chill down your spine.

“Again, I’m fine,” you say, a little harsher. ���My boyfriend has brought me plenty of drinks already.”

He laughs. It’s a high-pitched, scratchy, wheezing sound. Like a kazoo. “I don’t see this boyfriend of yours anywhere. He should know better than to leave you alone. I’d treat you much better than him.” His eyes travel down your neck and stay there. You stand from the booth and take a big step back. It’s not entirely personal; no matter how much of a threat he may be, Jason is a worse one. And if he’s still in this neighborhood, never mind this building, you fear for this man’s safety much more than your own. But the man follows, bringing the cup with him. “Come on, honey, it’s a compliment. Show a little thanks. I don’t bite.”

You don’t have to be the world’s finest detective to know that is most definitely a lie. Or to know to avoid that cup at all costs.

You could just rebuff him, walk away. But you’re willing to bet he’d just move on to the next woman. One who’s probably a little less sober, and a little less aware of her surroundings. You feign a stumble and knock the drink out of his grip. It tips toward him, drenching him with its contents. He chokes out a shocked gasp.

“Oops,” you deadpan, not at all trying to hide your indifference.

“You bitch,” he snarls. He lunges forward, snatching your wrist. You try to pull it back, but his grip is iron and bruising. “I was doing you a favor. Do you see anyone else here looking at you?”

You’re suddenly grateful you didn’t put up much of a fight after Jason came home from patrolling one night insisting he show you some self-defense moves. Far be it from you to cause a scene, but this guy isn’t giving you much choice. You employ the cardinal rule of women’s self-defense: go for the crotch. You shift your weight to your non-dominant side and launch your dominant knee right into his groin. The sharp metal edge of his belt buckle slices the skin just above your knee, but it shocks him enough to release your wrist and double over. The same leg used in your attack plants itself on the ground, and you use the momentum to pistol your opposite fist forward. It collides with his nose in a bone-cracking cross. Your stacks of studded rings didn’t do him any favors, either. He cries out in pain. His hands fly up to cover his nose, and the cup falls from his grasp and shatters on the floor, garnering the attention of some surrounding patrons. Blood seeps between his fingers.

“You’re gonna fucking pay for that.” His tone drips with poison. He reaches into his coat pocket and brandishes a switchblade (because of course. You’re not surprised, though. It is Gotham). You look around in a panic, hoping to find Jason towering somewhere over the crowd. He’s not there. A few guys who work for him, though, have since taken notice of the commotion and are making their way towards you. You know they won’t make it in time. You weren’t scared a moment ago, but you definitely are now. Jason only briefly covered disarming techniques, and you didn’t have his practice to stay calm in situations like these. He steps closer, shoes crunching over the glass shards, and you step back. You’re backed into a corner, literally. Your back is pressed against the table. His eyes are glassy and void of color.

There is a resounding pop when the man’s knife-wielding hand is yanked to the side. Too fast for your brain to register, he thuds against the table next to you and the knife clatters to the ground. You look over and see Jason, one hand pressing his face into the table and the other twisting the man’s arm behind his back. 

When his men finally reach you, Jason is seething. They look almost as afraid as the man, whose whimpers are muffled by the pressure with which he’s flattened against the table.

“Who the fuck let this happen,” Jason glowers. Uncomfortable glances are shared between the men, all sharing the same sentiment; we fucked up big time.

Jason’s livid gaze flits back and forth among them. His veins flex against his forearms, rippling with effort. It looks like he’s putting all his strength into incapacitating the man, but you know better. He’s putting all his strength into restraint. The look on his face is cold and steely, with hardened, venom-green eyes and a clenched jaw. This isn’t Jason, the sweet boyfriend, or Jason the easy-going yet respected club proprietor. This is Jason the crime lord. Jason the anti-hero. This is the Red Hood. Who makes his own rules and kills anyone who breaks them. It’s a bit off-putting for you to see him like this; he’s never like this with you. He’s always just…Jason. Your Jason.

One of his men speaks up. “We’re sorry, Boss, we were keepin’ an eye like you asked, but there was trouble up at the bar.”

Jason scowls. “Trouble that required all of you?”

At their silence, he rolls his eyes. “Idiots,” he says under his breath. He jerks the man up to stand, the hand that was pressing him to the table now gripping the back of his shirt collar. “Someone take care of this.” He shoves the man in their direction. Hard. One of them catches him. “And for fuck’s sake, check him for anything else.” 

While they’re busy patting him down, Jason turns back to you. You get whiplash from how quick his demeanor changes. Though still tense, the rigidity of his expression is long gone, replaced with tender concern.

“Are you okay?” His wide eyes scan you up and down, searching for any signs of injury. You manage a nod, still a bit stunned by his apparent shape-shifting abilities. “I’m so sorry, honey, this is my fault. It’s my fault for leaving you alone.” He pulls you close for a hug and kisses the top of your head, murmuring further apologies into your hair.

You pull back and cup his face in your hands. “It’s okay, Jay, I’m fine. I promise.” You lean in to kiss him and feel his shoulders relax.

“Jesus, man, sorry! Wouldn’t’a come on so strong if I knew she was your whore. How much did ‘ya pay for her, anyway?” His voice rings from behind. Jason tenses up again. When he pulls back from you, he’s gone. He’s like Jekyll-turned-Hyde when the combatant that lay dormant inside him reassumes his body.

He turns around, but his large frame shields you from seeing the scene unfold. You place a hand on his arm, a silent message of support, and you can feel him vibrating with anger. His hand comes to rest over yours and gives a reassuring squeeze.

“You know what?” You can’t be sure who he’s speaking to, but you can hear the eerie smile in his tone. “I’ll take care of this.” He faces you. “Can you give me a minute? Is that okay?” His voice is calm.

You know he would stay if you asked him to. And you never would, but you know he would go outside and kill that guy if you asked him to. And maybe you’re feeling a tad vindictive after the whole ordeal, so you just say, “Okay.”

He kisses your forehead, squeezing your hand once more. “I’ll come find you,” he says, stepping away, and you nod.

“Ross,” he commands. “Take her to the office. Get her whatever she wants.” Jason then speaks to all of his men. His tone drips with disdain. “Tomorrow we’ll talk about who’s getting fired for this.” You catch some of his men flinch.

He grabs the man by the collar once again and stalks towards the exit, dragging him along.

You’ve met Ross once or twice, though never exchanged more than a few words. He smiles at you. It’s amiable, if not slightly nervous. You know where the office is, but you’re still grateful for the guide. The mesh of moving bodies under dim lights makes all four corners of the room look the same. With the adrenaline wearing off, your hands ache and you become acutely aware of the stinging shock that shoots up your knee when you walk on it but, persevering, you follow him to the back. He holds the door that reads ‘RESTRICTED - DO NOT ENTER’ open for you, and you smile in thanks.

Various employees, servers and performers alike, mill about in the back hallways. You know some of them, having met in passing during other visits to the club, and offer polite greetings as you walk by. When you arrive at Jason’s office, Ross unlocks the door for you and you step inside.

It’s a nice office, noticeably homier than it was when you and Jason met. The first time he brought you back here it was just a desk, a chair, and a filing cabinet. You perched yourself on his desk while he sat in his chair and you teased him for not having a place for guests to sit, saying something about ‘men and their awful interior designing skills.’

“It’s not ‘bad skills,’ it’s cost-effective. ‘M runnin’ a business here, baby. If you need a place to sit that badly, you can sit right here.” He joked, patting his lap. And he said it with such conviction you believed him, but the next time you visited there was a brand new, plushy suede couch pushed against the wall.

You find a seat on said couch and try to get comfortable despite your protesting joints. From here you can spot a framed photo on Jason’s desk; the two of you smiling while bathing a shelter dog at the Wayne Animal Sanctuary. But while you smile at the camera, his gaze is trained on you.

 Ross stands in the doorway, stoic as a bodyguard should be. “Do you need anything?” He asks you.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“‘Course. I’ll be outside. Just yell if you need anything.” He moves to exit, but pauses. “Look,” he says, “We’re all really sorry about what happened. It was our fault. You have every right to hate us.” He chuckles self-deprecatingly. “God knows the boss does.”

You purse your lips, unsure how to respond. Technically Jason did instruct them not to leave you alone. But really, the only person at fault is that horrible man, and he was currently getting what he deserved.

“It’s okay, Ross,” you say, and you mean it. “I don’t blame you. And Jason’s not gonna fire any of you, okay? I won’t let him.”

He exhales. “Okay, you—yeah. Okay. Thanks.” He loiters awkwardly in the doorway for a moment. “Listen, Todd’s always been a great boss. But it’s no joke when it comes to you. Don’t know exactly what happened, but after meeting you, he’s just…different. Not sure if I believe it, but after the first time you were here, one of the bartenders swears they heard him whistling. Anyway, just mean to say…we’re glad he has you.”

His sincerity warms your heart. You thank him, and he assumes his post outside, closing the door. 

At last in decent lighting, you take the time to examine yourself. Your knee, knuckles, and wrist are splotchy with bruises. A small scrape rests just above your knee from you were scratched. There’s a splattering of blood on your knuckles and on the rings you’re wearing. You grimace, the reality of what just happened settling in. Someone pulled a knife on you. If Jason hadn’t been there…the thought leaves you cold.

There are voices on the other side of the door, then receding footsteps. After a few seconds, a knock.

“Baby? Can I come in?”

“Yes,” you call out. Jason enters, locking the door behind him. There are some smatterings of blood on his hands and face, and he’s holding a first aid kit. Your immediate instinct is that he’s the one who needs first aid.

“Are you okay?” You ask as he kneels on the floor in front of you. “Did he hurt you?”

Jason tilts his head like a confused puppy, eyebrow raised. Just like that, The Red Hood is gone. He’s Jason again. He speaks softly, with a hint of his usual boyish charm. “Should I be insulted by you asking me that?” He picks up your un-injured leg and places the foot on his thigh, beginning to unravel the ribbon wrapped around your ankle. He removes the shoe and places it to the side, then repeats with your other foot. But when he moves it, your knee twitches and you wince. He frowns but doesn’t say anything. He sees the way your eyes travel between all the spots of blood. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, none of it’s mine.”

You sigh in relief. “You didn’t…kill him, did you?”

He chuckles, lightly massaging your foot. “Nah…did you want me to? ‘Cause I can still—”

“No.”

He smirks at you, before leaning down to press a kiss to your bruised knee. It’s so gentle, so loving, it completely contradicts the bloodstains that adorn him. As his hands move up to your calf, your hand moves to his hair, fingers threading through the white streaks and pushing them back so you can get a better view of his eyes. They’re a silky teal, bordering on sea green. They remind you of lake trips in the summer, and ice skating during the holidays.

“How bad is he? Like, on a scale of ‘he can walk it off’ to ‘he needs to go to the hospital.’”

Jason pauses his movements, looking thoughtful for a moment.

“He…he’s walking himself to the hospital.”

There’s not much you can say to that. After all, you gave him to okay to go fuck that guy up.

From the first aid kit, he retrieves a box of Band-Aids. They’re the children’s ones, decorated with cartoons and various characters. A specific one catches your eye, and you pick it out of the carton.

“Robin? Really?”

Jason breathes out a small laugh. “One of my guys’ daughter loves him.” He unwraps the bandage and sticks it over the scratch. You admire the small red plaster. Jason traces a finger over the emblem in the center, a black and yellow ‘R’.

He moves from your leg to your hand, gingerly laying it in his palm. One by one he slides each of your rings off. They’re not particularly special, but you still like them and you try to protest when he tosses them in the trash. He’s quick to assuage you with promises to buy you new ones with, hopefully, less blood.

"Did you see how good I got him?" You suddenly feel shy asking such a question. Like a child seeking validation.

"I did see," Jason says. And there's not a hint of condescension in his tone. "I'm proud of you. You remembered what I taught you."

You beam under his pride.

He uses a sanitizing wipe to remove the droplets of blood from your knuckles, kissing each one along the way. He reaches your wrist last. There’s a purple hand-shaped mark that wraps around it, and he stares at it. You can see his thoughts race at sixty miles an hour, and you know he’s beating himself up about it.

“Hey.” The hand in his hair moves to stroke his cheek. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I promise. I love you.”

He leans forward to press his forehead to your wrist. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m sorry.” He places gentle kisses on the purple skin. “I’m sorry. I love you.” He moves to the scratch above your knee, pressing more kisses, repeating the words like a prayer. Your hand is still enclosed in his hands, and his cool fingers soothe the throbbing swell. You pull his head up, holding his chin in your fingertips. His eyes close as he soaks in your warm touch.

You reach for another wipe and begin wiping the blood from his face. Some of it has dried, so you press the wipe a little harder, and blood rushes to his cheeks to give him an adorable flush. You repeat the process on his hands. Blood erased and wipes discarded, you pull him up to the couch to lie down with you. He stretches out, so large that his feet hang over the armrest. You snuggle up to his side and your head rests on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. It’s surreal, how utterly soft he is, and just for you. How no one else gets to see him like this. He goes out at night as a fighter, a crusader, a deadly threat. And then he comes home to sleep in your arms. In your bed.

You place your hand against his chest, right over his heart to feel it thrum beneath your palm. It beats simple and steady, and just for you.

am i the only one who likes the whole jason owning the iceberg lounge storyline (aside from the whole penguin prisoner thing but i only write according to canon that i like and leave out the things i don't! whoops🤷‍♀️);

the feminine urge to write more fics that take place within the universe of this one...

divider is from here

[fics-lovebot]

park sunghoon fic recs - pt.2

main masterlist

· ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

pls reblog if you like any of my recs and don´t forget to support authors!❤️

note: i´m in love with this man´s teeth

fwb!sunghoon - ( @vampjaeyun ) angst. the ending :)))))))))))))))))) i´ll let yall see for yourselves. i almost crashed out at worK

is it a crime to be attracted to my girl? - ( @youngheejay ) suggestive, bf!sunghoon. lmaooooo this man was stressed oUT. and not him calling the others "bitchless losers" i cant

king of tears - ( @enhaflixer ) ANGST, fluff, smut. Chaebol Husband!Sunghoon, slow burn, second chance rom. WHAT COMES AFTER 7???? this is honestly amazing, i´ve never read a kdrama inspired fic like this one, so so good. and as the Angsty Fic Ambassador, i aprove tf out of this skdjfkjf, also SUNOO AND NIKI HAD ME CACKLING. After you´re done, read this one too

the dollmaker - ( @faeyun ) smut, fluff lowk, husband!sunghoon, dark gothic heavy themes (read warnings). YUUUPPPP, this is an art piece right here. wowwww, author i love ur brain, i´ve never read anything like this!

just married - ( @bywons ) FLUFF, down bad!sunghoon (YOU ALREADY KNOW IM EATING TS UPPP), drunk!sunghoon, not him wanting to elope and get married after breakdancing at a friend´s wedding, i love this sm

hoodie thief - ( @tobiosbbyghorl ) smut, fluff, roomamate!sunghoon, he´s a total boobs guy (canon) so him losing it over them isn´t strange lmao, loved this

downbad - ( @jaylaxies ) texts, downbad!hoon (YURRRRR). man wTF is wrong him lmaooo not him getting off of a nICKNAME like??? why he freakyY (my type fr)

in the next life - ( @darlingyus ) FLUFF, THAT´S IT. ;((((((((((((((((((((( pls i neeD HIM

the way i loved you - ( @thatfeelinwhenyou ) angst, fluff, exes to lovers, second chance romance, slow burn, figure skater ex!sunghoon x sports journalist!reader. STOP EVERYTHING YOU´RE DOING RN AND READ THIS!!! it has it ALLLL. author really went off on this one wowwww, i lit go out of my way to find books like this (can´t find them most of the time) and you´re sharing your creative big brain with us for free?????? im-

letting him fuck your bsf - ( @nephynes ) smut, bf!hoon, voyeurism, angst, manipulation, possessiveness, jealousy, toxic dynamics, rough sex, etc (i ate that shit up). listen,,,i´m usually not into these type of plots BUTTTTT, let me explain, this is differentttttttt sdfjkghlksjgh i have a love hate relationship with this piece idk. reader´s request is crazy and i would nEVER but he handled that shit like a king, had me folding and everything damn

farmer´s daughter - ( @calumcxke ) suggestive af, secret relationship, farmer´s daughter!reader, downbad!sunghoon (YUHH). daaamnnnnnn this was hot asf

slow down - ( @itsminjify ) smut, situationship, hockey player!sunghoon, possessive simpy!hoon (IKTR!), IM TALM BOUT INNNIIIITTTTTTTTT, #needthat

ragebait - ( @okwonyo ) text au, comfort crack, downbad!sunghoon (atp make me president of the down bad mmc community). basically sunghoon likes em crazy lmao, i swear i need a whole series based on this

a cure for frostbite - ( @iyoonjh ) fluff, angsty, royal!sunghoon x apothecary!reader, forbidden love, historical romance. sunghoon is a desperate lovesick YEARNERRRRR, we love to see it. ugh, this is so beautifully written, 500 notes its NOT ENOUGH for this art piece

ERROR 404. word limit reached - ( @hoonstrology ) fluff, angst, college!au, classmates!au, slow burn-ish, strangers to lovers, lowk loser!sunghoon (WE CHEERED). everybody say: THANK YOU AUTHORRRR FOR THIS ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE!!!1 girl i could kiss you rn

[bunnyyyuu]

includes: f! reader, aged up! characters, dom! maki / sub! yuuta, cunnilingus, bondage, overstim

maki using you to teach yuuta how to eat pussy !!（〃∀〃；）

well, teach might not be the right word. it's kind of like when parents throw their kids into the pool and force them to learn how to swim.

her hand has a vice grip on the roots of his jet locks, shoving his pretty face between your legs — legs that are tied by the ankles to either side of the bedframe. yuuta clearly has barely any clue what he's doing, but, to his credit, he can barely breathe.

his tongue is lapping at your sopping cunny so so so desperately, no direction or technique in sight. it's not even close to enough to make you cum, it's barely even stimulation at all. ugh!!

maki can tell you're dissatisfied — it's written all over your face and clear in your lack of moans — and it brings a scowl onto her face. "yuuta," she hisses, dragging his face against your sex, "try harder."

yuuta tries to mumble some sort of apology from his useless mouth, though it comes out as just a weak whine.

"listen to me," she scolds. and, again, it's just a whine in response.

though, he seems to actually listen. you can almost hear the cogs of his brain turning as his tongue tentatively flattens on the underside of your throbbing clit. the moan the bubbles from your parted lips is enough confirmation that he's finally doing something close to right. so, he does it again. and again. and again. until your choked moans and the lewd, wet sounds of his tongue lapping at your weeping bud fill the room.

"that's better," maki grumbles, and you can feel yuuta's lips curve into a smile at her half-hearted praise.

it's not long before your strangled, pitchy moans grow louder and yuuta's slurping the cum you're despoting onto his eager tongue. maki smiles a little as your squirm and whine through your orgasm — though your writhing is heavily reduced by your restraints. she uses her free hand to gently rub up and down your trembling thigh in a stark contrast to how hard she's gripping yuuta's hair, forcing his mouth onto your twitchy, overstimulated cunt again.

"too much, maki! tell 'im i need a — ah! — break," you gasp out when yuuta's tongue doesn't let up, flicking your throbbing clit like it's all he's ever wanted.

she almost laughs in your face at that. too much? no. he won't be done until he's mastered the art of making a pretty girl cum. "not yet," she says with a small head shake , "put your tongue in 'er, yuu," she instructs the boy.

and, he is so obident to her every command — she has him on the shortest leash, you think — sinking his hot tongue into your hole. he moans against your pussy when it excitedly clenches around the pretty pink muscle. he fucks his tongue in and out of your spasmodic entrance, a small smile on his lips as another climax seems to crash over you.

and, true to maki's word, yuuta spends hours learning between your legs until he is an expert! though, unfortunately for you, you end up a shaking, sniffling mess after far too many orgasms (o^▽^o)

[lvrsturniolo]

˗ˏˋboyfriend!matt lovesss playing with his girl´ˎ˗

warnings; smut. dj w the vj. needy!reader.

p!link that gave me this idea at the end😋

it’s barely morning.

The kind of quiet, gray light that seeps in through the curtains and makes everything feel slower, softer. The world is still asleep, and so is Matt—mostly.

You’re curled up under the covers with him behind you, his arm around your waist, warm breath steady against the back of your neck. Everything is still. Peaceful. Except you.

You shift just a little, thighs rubbing together, trying not to wake him—but your body’s aching. You had a wet dream and it’s been hell since you woke up.

You try to ignore it. Breathe through it. But Matt stirs behind you.

His voice is low, rough with sleep. “What’s wrong, baby?”

You don’t answer right away. Embarrassed. Shy.

Matt presses a kiss to your shoulder, the tip of his nose nudging your skin. “Talk to me,” he murmurs, even softer this time. “Why’s my sweet girl so squirmy this morning?”

Your voice is barely a whisper. “I need you…”

His hand tightens around your waist just slightly, thumb stroking lazy circles against your hip. “Yeah?” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin. “Need me how, baby?”

You shift again, arching back into him just slightly, your thighs rubbing. He feels it instantly—how warm you are, how wet. His hand slides down, slow and deliberate, cupping your pussy over your panties. You whimper, breath catching in your throat.

“Oh, baby” Matt groans softly, kissing behind your ear. “You’re soaked.”

You nod, still not trusting your voice, and Matt smiles gently against your skin. “So needy, even half-asleep.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s no mocking in it—just love.

“C’mere,” he whispers, guiding you carefully onto your side and then pulling you up into his lap, your back to his chest. His legs stretch out behind yours under the covers as he shifts his hand back down, tucking it between your thighs again.

“You’re okay like this?” he checks gently, mouth close to your ear. “Can I touch you, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly, already trembling with anticipation. “Please…”

Matt kisses the side of your head and slips his hand into your panties, two fingers gliding through your soaked folds. You gasp, clinging to his wrist as he finds your clit right away, stroking it in slow, soft circles—just the way you like.

“Right there?” he asks quietly.

You nod, breath hitching. “Yes… don’t stop, Matt.”

His free hand curls around your stomach, holding you still against him, your back flush with his chest. His lips never leave your skin—whispering praise, pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder as his fingers keep moving with that soft, perfect rhythm.

“You’re so good for me,” he breathes. “Letting me touch you like this first thing in the morning. So sweet. So fuckin’ wet, baby.”

You whimper, your thighs trembling as the heat builds—slow and steady, that warm wave rising until your whole body is tight, every nerve drawn toward the center of you.

Matt feels it.

His hold tightens just slightly, his hand still steady. “You’re close, huh? I can feel it—feel y’clit twitchin’ in my fingers. You gonna cum for me, sweet girl?”

You nod, helpless. “M’gonna—Matt, I’m gonna—”

“Let go, baby,” he whispers. “I got you.”

And you do—your whole body jerking softly in his lap as the orgasm crashes through you like warm lightning. You gasp his name, grabbing at his arm, your back arching into his chest as you fall apart in his hands.

Matt holds you through it, his fingers slowing but never leaving, rubbing you through every last tremble. He kisses your temple, then your cheek, his voice low and soothing in your ear.

“There you go. That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

You melt into him, boneless and shaking, your breathing slow and uneven.

“Still with me?” he murmurs, smiling against your skin.

You nod, barely able to form words.

He slips his hand out of your panties gently and pulls the covers back over both of you, wrapping his arms tight around your waist again. “You did so good, baby. So perfect.”

You nuzzle back into his chest, legs still twitching slightly. “T-thank you…”

Matt kisses your hair and chuckles softly. “Always, love helpin my girl.”

——————————

link this was inspired by HERE

^warning!! this is an nsfw p-link!! you also need to be logged into twitter to see it!!^

tags; @emely9274 @courta13 @sturniolo-szn2 @chrislover696969 @sophand4n4 @lezleeferguson-120 @slvt4chriss @ivysturnss @auttysturnz @riasturns @iloveduckssm @tezzzzzzzz

[hoonstqr]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ۫ 𓈒 HAUNTED FOREVER ♩

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾

警告: dragon희승 & reader ৴ noncon, smut, slight omegaverse added(knotting), p in v, monster cock, breeding ˊᗜˋ happiest birthday to @kikidoul love u so so much baby!! sry for it being so short nd rushed :(

dragon!heeseung pinning you down by the throat with his claws, his red scales shimmering in the moonlight that filtered through the dense forest canopy. your heart raced as you struggled against his powerful grip, the fear of his sharp claws piercing your skin quite evident on your face. 

“shh, baby, you’ll let me mate you, won’t you?” his tail coiled around your waist, pulling you closer to his massive form.

“n-no please,” you stuttered out, your voice strained against the pressure of his claws. you could feel the heat emanating from his body, the musky scent filling your nostrils as you squirmed underneath him.

heeseung’s eyes, normally a soft brown, had turned a fiery gold, reflecting the intensity of his dragon instincts. “don’t fight me,” his free hand moved down your body, gripping your thigh, his claws digging slightly into your flesh, making you gasp.

dragon!heeseung who chuckles at your mewling and whimpering when he puts his fat cock inside your tiny cunt without warning, stretching you so wide that your eyes water and your body shakes with the pain.

“so fucking tight, your pussy’s literally made for me baby,” heeseung’s deep, rumbling voice sends shivers down your spine as his claws tightened around your throat. his cock, thick and pulsing with need, pushed into you without mercy. you screamed, the sound muffled by the hand that held you down, as he sheathed himself fully within your trembling body.

“s-s’too much..! so big..” you whimpered, the pain overwhelming as your body struggled to adjust to his monstrous size. heeseung’s chuckles grew deeper, his breath hot against your ear as he began to move his hips, pulling all the way out before slamming back into you with a force that made the ground beneath you tremble.

“fucking take it, slut..! your body was made for this. made to be filled by me.” his tail slithered between your legs, his clawed tip gently caressing your clit as he ruts furiously inside your hot cunt like he can’t get deep enough inside of you.

dragon!heeseung who gives you his knot, the feeling of his swollen bulb pushing against your cervix making you scream louder than ever before. his claws dig deeper into your skin as he holds you down, his tail tightening around your waist.

dragon!heeseung who puts one of his hands on the visible bulge on your stomach, his thick, scaly fingers splaying wide to cover the area where his cock was buried deep inside you. his grip tightened, his claws pressing slightly into your flesh as he watched the way your abdomen stretched around his girth with every thrust.

“a-ahh no don't do that—” you pleaded, feeling the pressure build up as his hand squeezed your bulging stomach, the uncomfortable sensation of his knot pushing at your cervix becoming more intense.

“you don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re just a stupid cumdump for me to fuck,” he growled, his hand moving in time with his hips, pressing down on your stomach with each powerful thrust, forcing your body to accept the full length and girth of his cock.

your eyes rolled back in your head as the pressure grew, your body betraying you as a sudden wave of pleasure crashed over you. your pussy clenched around his shaft, muscles contracting as you come hard, soaking his cock with your warm release.

dragon!heeseung who praises you for taking his knot so well and rewards you by breeding you. “good girl,” he pants, his knot swelled larger, locking you two together as his seed filled you to the brim.

the feeling of his knot expanding inside of you was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. you could feel his hot cum flooding your womb. he watches his load drip out of your abused cunt with a predatory smirk, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. his tail loosened its grip slightly, allowing you to breathe in shallow, ragged breaths.

“my mate,” heeseung whispered as he looked down at your body and lifted it, taking you back to his nest. “mine to fuck, mine to breed, all mine.”

REGULARS── : @rikkesttz @nics-fxy @woniesbae @jk1601 @starrias @rikiiimeow @drmsrina @rosepetals09 @tinycatharsis @doucious

IMPORTANT: dunno anything abt dragon cocks so ignore any mistakes, i don't take constructive criticism, you can gtfo.

[sunsbaby]

sam was all wide eyed as he watched you climb on top of him. the hunt had gone completely south and caused him to get all bruised up; in your mind that meant it was time to take care of him.

"baby? what's all this, I'm fine really honey.." he murmured softly, his large hand sprawling against the small of your back.

yet he didn't protest when your hand came and gently tugged down his boxers. he didn't complain when you shuffled your shorts off and pulled your already soaked panties to the side—instead he stared, his free hand coming to grip your thigh, his thumb moving to rub soft circles on your clit.

the action pulled a whine from you, bucking your hips into his hand to somehow get more of the addicting pleasure.

"s-sam 'm supposed to be taking care of you.." you babbled as he added more pressure, his middle and ring finger plunging into your dripping cunt.

his tip was flushed a pink color and was leaking pre-cum, he was getting off on watching your tough and dominant act wither away as he toyed with your pretty pussy.

"shhh, it's okay sweet girl..sammy's gonna make you feel real good—" he cooed as he sped up, his fingers curling deep inside hitting that spongy spot that made you moan out his name.

"c'mon baby girl let go for me, make a mess on my fingers." he pleaded as his eyes bore into yours: the look, the pleasure, the overwhelming feelings crashed over you as you came.

his fingers were dripping with your arousal and cum, your body reacted and you whined as he slipped them out. he shushed you as he replaced his digits with his dick, bottoming out inside you as he let himself go—filling you with his warm seed.

you laid on his lap, head resting on his shoulder as he rubbed your back. sam planted soft kisses on your head as he whispered into your ear about how much he loved you, and about how well you take him. his cock stayed borrowed inside you, keeping his cum from slipping out.

just how he wanted.

sunny yaps! I've been seeing A LOT of sam edits and well he's been inside my brain because i need this man so bad.. like you don't understand, hes so BARK BARK WOOF—whatt who said that 😼

special tags! @bluemerakis @littlesoulshine @h8aaz @bruisedfig @liiiilsss @fuckedupfate @bejeweledinterludes @blossomingorchids

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ® 𓂃 do not repost or copy my works without permission!!

[mattsweethrt]

pleaseeee do a fic with slow morning sex with chris

「 morning sex ᵎᵎ 」

smut, p in v, unprotected sex, cursing, pet names

you softly stirred awake at the soft sounds of birds chirping outside, early morning sunshine dancing across you and your boyfriends shared bed. you glanced to your nightstand, your alarm clock reading a little after seven am. sighing heavily, you nuzzled into chris’ embrace, trying to let sleep overtake you once more.

at your movements, chris hummed softly, his arms wrapping around you while he buried his face into your hair. “morning sweetheart,” he whispered softly, planting kisses on your scalp, “you sleep okay?”

you nodded, your face in his chest as you inhaled his scent. “i missed you,” you mumbled quietly.

he laughed, his voice still laced with sleep. he continued to press feather light kisses to your head, trailing down across your forehead and to your cheek. “y’missed me? i was with you all night.”

you giggled as his lips and messy hair tickled your skin. “doesn’t matter, still missed you.”

he pulled away for a moment, admiring your sleepy state. he leaned in, placing a soft kiss to your mouth, his lips slotting between yours. he hummed lowly before pulling back. “i missed you too.”

a grin spread across your lips, leaning back in to press your lips to his again. chris let out a low groan, arms snaking down around your waist as he pulled you closer, repositioning himself to be on top of you.

the kisses began to grow more heated and sloppy, chris’ tongue slipping into your mouth as you let out a sigh.

“i know, baby, i know,” chris murmured, his lips puffy and red. his hands slipped down between your bodies, pulling your panties down, his fingers dipping into your wetness. “i got you, just relax, okay?”

you nodded, chris freeing himself from his plaid pj pants. his cock sprung up, already oozing with precum.

“someone’s excited,” you joked quietly as chris began to stroke himself, lining up with your entrance.

“jus’ missed my girl is all,” he replied with a lopsided grin as he slowly pushed himself in. your walls squeezed around his length, the both of you moaning lowly at the feeling.

he buried his face in the crook of your neck, placing sloppy kisses to your exposed collarbone while he bottomed out. “fuckk baby, you’re so tight f’me.”

your arms were around his neck in an instant, holding him close to you as your fingers threaded through his brown curls.

chris slowly began to move in and out, his hips moving against yours in a rhythmic pattern. with every thrust, your pussy clenched around him as it dripped with your arousal. the feeling was euphoric, chris’ dick deep inside you as his mouth moved against your skin, whispering soft praises into it.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured as his lips found yours, “could spend all day in bed with you.”

he continued his motions and praises, talking you through your orgasm at it crashed down over you. he wasn’t too far behind, giving a few more thrusts before coming deep inside of you, collapsing onto your chest.

he whined softly as he pulled out, a mix of both of your cum dripping out onto the sheets beneath you.

“i’ll make you a deal,” he said softly, “you clean the sheets and i’ll cook breakfast?”

“you’re gonna burn whatever you make,” you giggled, playfully pushing his arm as he hovered above you.

he leaned down, grinning while pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “that’s a yes then?”

bree’s corner ⸝⸝⸝ sorry if the ending was rushed i forgot to finish this when i started it yesterday and wanted to post tonight ! i need lazy sex with him so bad it’s not even funny

[anxiouscherubs]

sunday morning

𖤓 summary: the one where you wake up too soon from a wet dream and your boyfriend is there to help you... relieve the tension. 𖤓 warnings/tags: MDNI! 18+, explicit, smut, established relationship, some degradation, bdsm dynamics, yeo is a bit of a mean dom!! you've been warned!!, use of the color system, some choking, fingering, spanking, lovebites, oral sex (f receiving), edging, unprotected sex (don't do that), yes there's aftercare im not a monster 𖤓 dom!yeosang x fem!sub!reader 𖤓 author's note: i know i said i would post this by the end of march but wedding planning and school and work are consuming my life!!!!! finished this with a literal ear infection bc i NEEDED to put it out into the universe lol. this was originally inspired by the fact that yeosang uses the replica lazy sunday morning fragrance and quickly spiraled into depravity. yeosang wrecks me every day of my life and i KNOW he gets nasty. he's too quiet to be anything other than a dom, sorry! this is also my first time writing a relationship with bdsm dynamics so please feel free to leave (constructive and kind) feedback! 𖤓 word count: 5.9k 𖤓 read it on ao3 here

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“Sangie, please” you moan into your boyfriend’s neck, his cock plunging in and out of you at a relentless pace. 

“What is it, pretty girl?” he teases, his fingers finding your clit, circling the sensitive bud to match the pace of his thrusts. 

”I’m so close, baby, fuck,” your hands tangle in his dark hair as you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to your neck. He licks a firm stripe from your collarbone to right below your ear, never slowing his hips. 

“Come on then, baby, fall apart around my cock,” he growls into your ear. 

The pleasure settles in your core, hot and heavy, building and building as your bodies move in sync. He hits that soft spot inside of you, and you cry out, his name falling off your lips over and over like a mantra. 

“Yeo, oh my god,” you whimper, “fuck, I’m gonna —“ 

A loud crash startles you from your sleep, pulling you from your delicious dream. The soft morning light creeps through the blinds of your shared bedroom, casting gentle stripes across your duvet. The city outside is still quiet as you try to shake the heat from your system, Yeosang’s cold empty side of the bed helping bring you back to reality. You let out a slow breath, stretching your tired muscles, trying to jumpstart your body, ignoring the wetness that had begun to pool in your sleep shorts thanks to your subconscious. You roll over to face your nightstand, squinting at the clock — 9:15 AM. Yeosang always wakes up earlier than you, and sleeping this late is out of the question, unless he’s on his deathbed with a cold. 

You untangle from the sheets, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed to stretch, letting your feet rest on the sun-warmed wooden floor. The morning light shines bright through your window, the warmth melting into your skin. You hear rustling in the kitchen, and realize the sound that startled you awake must have something to do with your boyfriend making you both breakfast, like he does every Sunday. 

Dragging yourself out of bed, you throw a fuzzy cardigan over the tank top you slept in, to match your shorts. Yeosang always gifts you sets of loungewear, because he knows how happy it makes you to laze around the house in something cute. You make your way down the hallway, the warm smell of cinnamon and vanilla wafting around you the closer you get to the kitchen. You round the corner to see your boyfriend bent over the sink, washing dishes from last night’s dinner. A fresh pan of cinnamon rolls sits on the counter next to him. Your favorite.

“Good morning, Sangie,” you softly say from the doorway, so as not to startle him. He peaks over his shoulder at you briefly before turning the water off, a breathtaking smile consuming his features. His gray sweatpants hug his slender hips, and the tight black tank top he’s sporting gives you an unobstructed view of his broad shoulders and strong arms. God, he looks good.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he coos, his deep voice still raspy from sleep. He quickly dries his hands on a dish towel before discarding it on the counter and making his way over to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a warm hug, his familiar scent enveloping you. His fingers rub absentminded circles on your skin as he holds you, his hot touch reminding you what you were dreaming about before you were jolted from your sleep. You feel your cheeks warm, thinking about how, in your mind, he was inside of you moments ago. 

“Did I wake you? I tried to wash everything quietly, but the pan we used last night slipped and I banged it on the counter,” he kisses your forehead, the lingering warmth of his breath working you up even more. 

“It’s okay, baby,” you pull back to kiss his nose, trying to shake the heat from your body. “I needed to get up anyway. I missed you.” You wonder if he can tell how hot and bothered you are. He knows your body like the back of his hand, and when you’re needy, he picks up on it right away. 

“Yeah? Were you dreaming about me?” He squeezes your hips before releasing you, picking the dish towel up and walking back to the sink to hang it up.

“No,” you blush, sensing he already knows the answer. He chuckles darkly, leaning back on the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. 

“If those pretty little moans I heard coming from our bedroom are any indication, I’m gonna have to call you a liar, baby,” he smirks at you as your soft smile falls from your face. “Wanna try to answer truthfully this time?” The tone of his voice has shifted from the sweet, doting boyfriend he was moments ago, the version of him you only see in the bedroom starting to crack through the surface.

“Y-Yeo, I—“ you stumble over your words. Of course you gave yourself away, how embarrassing. Your face feels like it’s on fire. 

“What was I doing, hm?” Yeosang prowls toward you slowly, a strand of his dark hair floating down onto his forehead. “Tasting you? Fingering you? Fucking you?” He stops in his tracks, waiting for your answer. 

The words coming out of his mouth have your mind reeling, a pit of pleasure settling in your belly. You let your cardigan fall from your shoulder, suddenly aware of how his hungry eyes are raking over your body. 

“Fucking me,” you barely recognize the sound of your voice, breathless and desperate, “you were fucking me,” 

“Mmm,” his deep voice sounds like honey, “and how was it, hm? Did I let you come?” He creeps closer to you, only a few steps away. 

“I-I woke up, before I could,” you start, trying to hide your embarrassment. 

“Oh, jagiya,” he finally closes the distance between the two of you, slowly wrapping one arm around your body, his hand snaking down to cup your ass. “You must be so pent up, my love.” His other hand comes up to your neck, brushing your hair away to ghost his lips over your bare shoulder. He trails featherlight kisses up your shoulder, to your neck, settling right by your ear. “Do you want me to help you with that?” His deep voice whispering over your sensitive skin… he knows what that does to you. 

You’re nodding before your voice catches up. “Yes, Sangie, please,” you whisper, bracing yourself on Yeosang’s shoulders as he nips at your neck. He nods at your pleading, willing as always to take care of you.  

“Should I bring you to bed, or take you here first?” He bites down on your shoulder, growling into your skin. 

You whimper at the sensation, “now, Yeo please, I need you to touch me now,” your hands float up to his hair, lacing through his dark locks. 

“Mm,” he tuts, “what if I want to do both?” He pulls away from you to look into your eyes, pupils blown wide with desire. He brings a hand to your chin, thumbing your bottom lip. You open your mouth for him instinctively, and he hooks his thumb on your bottom teeth, tilting your head up at him. “Why don’t I make you come once here, and then I’ll take you to bed and fuck you back to sleep.” 

You nod as you close your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue around it, drawing a deep groan up his throat. 

He moves quickly, popping his thumb out of your mouth to plant his hands on your hips. The room around you spins, and suddenly your back is pressed up against him. He wraps an arm around your stomach and brings his other hand to your throat, caging you in his grip. You feel his hardness pressing into your ass as he rolls his hips into you. You whimper, leaning into him, chasing every little touch he’s willing to give you. 

“What does my baby want?” He whispers in your ear, tightening his hand on your throat and sliding his other down to ghost his fingers under the band of your shorts, “should I bend you over the counter and have you come around my fingers? Or should I put you on the counter and fuck you with my tongue?” He squeezes the sides of your neck gently, just enough to make your head spin. 

“F-fingers,” you choke out, rolling your ass over him. 

He shoves you forward, into the counter, the hard marble digging into your hips as he moves his hand from your stomach to the middle of your back to push your torso over the countertop. You brace yourself, planting your hands on either side of your head, and he releases your throat to grip your hair, tipping your head to the side and squishing your cheek into the cold surface. 

“Don’t tell me you’re so fucking cock hungry that you forgot your manners,” he scolds you, ripping your sleep shorts down with one hand and smacking your ass with a loud crack. 

“Ah-! Fuck,” you cry out, the pain warming you from the inside out, a rush of arousal flooding your center. “Please, I want your fingers Sangie, please,”

”Good fucking girl,” he coos, “and no panties, huh?” He pulls his hands from you and takes a step back, leaving you bent over the counter with an angry red handprint blooming on your naked ass. “I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this, fucking hell,” he runs a hand through his hair as he admires you. 

You know he’s teasing you by not touching you right away, so you take it upon yourself to kick your shorts to the side and prop one shaking leg up on the counter, presenting yourself to him. 

“Mmm, you’re practically dripping, jagi,” he zeroes in on your center, “you must’ve been really close in that little dream of yours, hm?” 

Before you can formulate a snarky reply, he’s behind you, plunging two fingers deep inside of you, using his free hand to grip your hip and hold you in place. You stammer out a curse at the sensation, your mouth hanging open against the cold countertop as he stretches you out. He immediately finds that tender spot inside of you, pressing the pads of his fingers against it over and over and over. 

“Yeo, oh my god,” you whimper, that familiar pit of warmth settling in your stomach. 

“Already squeezing around my fingers like you’re gonna come? I’ve barely touched you,” he teases you, his mean, dominant facade slipping into place. 

“F-feels so good Sangie, can’t help it, mmhn,” you’re practically drooling on the counter as he pistons his fingers in and out, reaching deep inside of you. 

He pulls his fingers from your center, bringing his hand down hard on your ass again. You cry out against the marble, tears blurring your vision as his fingers find your swollen clit. Your knee almost buckles underneath you as he expertly swirls around it, so familiar with your body, but he holds you up with a firm hand on your hip. 

“You wanna come, baby? Hm?” He quickens his pace, dipping his fingers inside of you to gather more of your arousal. 

“Yes, please,” you whimper. 

“Then come.” He almost sounds bored as he applies just the right amount of pressure to make you crumble in his hold, holding you steady as your body shakes. 

“T-thank you,” you cry out, your climax washing over you, wiping out all your strength. 

“So good for me,” Yeosang whispers, holding you in place, letting your body go limp over the countertop. He rubs both thumbs into the small of your back, letting you come down for a few quiet beats before bringing you back to the moment. 

“Color?” He quietly asks, the tone of his voice softening for a moment as he turns his attention to your hips, softly massaging your joints. 

“Green, very much green,” you sigh between breaths.

“Then come on, pretty girl,” he growls from behind you, pulling his hands from your body and taking a few slow steps backwards, “you want me to fuck you, don’t you?” 

You push yourself up on the counter, slowly lowering your trembling leg to the floor. 

“Yes, please Yeo,” you turn to face him, leaning back on the sturdy surface behind you, your brain still fuzzy and your hearing a bit muffled. His fingers are glistening with your arousal, the outline of his cock pressing against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. Your core pulses at the sight. 

“Then let’s go,” he beckons you, taking a few more steps backwards toward your shared bedroom, fire simmering behind his eyes.

You follow his lead, your unsteady legs carrying you a few steps before your boyfriend raises a hand up to stop you. 

“Nuh-uh,” he scolds you, shaking his head. 

You tilt your head at him in question, the teasing lilt in his voice making you dizzy as you realize what you’re in for. So he’s in this kind of mood. 

“Crawl.” 

Dropping to your knees without a second thought, a gasp leaves your lips as you hit the floor, the deep growl in his command making your body react instantly. 

“Good girl.“ His cock twitches in his sweatpants. “Now, you can follow me.” He smirks at you as you lower your hands to the floor, and you feel thankful that the warm sun flooding through your kitchen windows has heated the floorboards. 

You keep your eyes locked on his while you follow him on all fours, making sure to exaggerate the sway of your hips and the arch of your back as you crawl.

“Well, don’t you look so pretty on your hands and knees for me, hm? Obedient little slut.” 

Heat spreads across your cheeks at the emphasis on his last word, knowing he’s only saying it because he knows how much you love it.

He walks backwards the whole way to your shared bedroom, power radiating from him in the way he carries himself, his dark eyes trained on you as you crawl for him. His mouth hangs open as he watches you, and you can tell he’s testing his own self control. You follow him over the threshold, watching him as the backs of his knees hit the mattress, dropping down onto the edge of your bed. He spreads his legs wide, leaning back as he tilts his head to the side while he contemplates his next move. 

“Come,” he pats the mattress between his thighs, and you crawl forward to the edge of the bed, kneeling between his legs, looking up at him through your lashes. He grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping your head back. 

“As much as I’d love to have you falling apart around my cock in the next few minutes, I haven’t gotten a taste of you yet.” 

“O-oh,” his words warm your center, the way he’s looking down at you only making you feel more desperate for his touch. 

“Normally I’d make you earn it, but after listening to your slutty fucking moans all morning I don’t think I can wait any longer,” he wraps his hand around your throat again, squeezing firmly before guiding you up to your feet, standing along with you. He flicks at the shoulder of your cardigan with his free hand. “Off,” he demands. You shimmy out of it instantly, letting it drop to the floor and pool around your feet. 

“Give me your color,” he whispers, his grip on your throat loosening.

“Still very green, my love,” you smirk at him as he nods, squeezing tighter again. 

“So pretty with my hand around your neck,”  he praises you, your head spinning as you work to inhale. “I can’t, fuck,” he lets his resolve crack, crashing his lips into yours.

He kisses you hard, fingers carding through your hair as he parts your lips with his tongue. “I’ll take my time with you later,” he mumbles against your mouth, swiping his tongue over yours. You kiss each other like you’ve been apart for weeks; desperate pawing, panting, whining. 

“Lay down,” he orders you, groaning at the string of saliva connecting your mouths as he pulls away from you. He holds your waist as he spins the both of you around, putting you at the foot of the bed before pushing you onto the mattress. You catch yourself on your elbows, scooting back as he crawls on top of you, sloppily kissing you the whole way, moving together until you’re settled in the pillows against the headboard. 

He kisses you from your lips, up to the hinge of your jaw, down the column of your neck. You lay back against the pillows, so familiar with the way he loves to map your body with his mouth. He spreads your legs with his knees, splaying you open wide for him, your bare cunt clenching around nothing at the sudden exposure. 

He kisses down to your chest as his hands run up your thighs, bypassing your aching core to run up your stomach, one hand dipping beneath your tank top to palm your breast. You gasp at the sensation of his calloused hand kneading your supple flesh, a whine escaping as he runs a thumb over your nipple. He pulls your tank top up with his free hand, exposing your breasts to the cool air. 

“Sangie,” you thread your fingers through his hair as he kisses down the valley between your breasts, tightening your grip when he catches one of your nipples between his teeth. “Fuck,” you whisper, looking down at him as he flicks his tongue over it. His eyes meet yours briefly before they roll back as he sucks your nipple into his mouth. 

“Baby,” you whine, the feeling of his mouth on you making your head spin. “I need you,” 

“Mhm,” his mouth pops off of you briefly before his teeth graze over the top of one of your breasts, the sensation dissolving into pleasurable pain as he bites down. 

“Ah!” You yelp as his teeth scrape over your skin, panting as he soothes the bite with his tongue, sucking with the intention to leave a mark. 

“You forgot your manners again, pretty girl,” he bites you again, on your stomach this time, and you glance down to see the first mark blooming with shades of red and purple as he paints another. 

“Fuck, I—“ your voice catches in your throat at the third bite, lower on your stomach, inching closer to where you need him. ”Please Yeo, I need it,” 

“Need what, hm? Use your words,” the next bite is harder than the last, and it has you squirming, desperately pushing your hips into him as his teeth dig into the inside of your thigh. 

“Your mouth, please, please,” you rock your hips against nothing, your boyfriend keeping his distance to encourage more of your delicious whining. 

“You sound so pretty when you beg, my little whore,” he spreads your legs wide, fingers splayed across the insides of your thighs. He watches your cunt clench at the word, smirking to himself before spitting directly on your heat. 

“Oh,” you feel his warm saliva slide from your clit to your entrance, the sensation making you squirm underneath him. “Sangie, please,” 

“Mhm,” he finally settles between your legs, threading his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer to his waiting mouth. 

He licks the blooming purple bite on your thigh, trailing wet kisses up, closer and closer, pressing one last kiss before finally spreading you open with his tongue. Your back arches instantly, leaning into his mouth. He licks you from your entrance up to your clit, groaning at the taste of you. 

“Fuck,” you whine, gripping his hair, holding him against you. He laps at you, flicking the firm point of his tongue over your swollen clit over and over. 

“Mmm,” he growls against you, the vibrations drawing a whimper up your throat. He eats you like a man starved, as he always does, digging his fingers into your hips and caging you in against his mouth. 

“So good, Sangie, ah–” you yelp as his teeth scrape against your clit, a low chuckle vibrating through you at your reaction. He sucks your sensitive bud into his mouth, one hand loosening its grip on your hip to weave around to your throbbing entrance. 

You feel two fingers inching up the inside of your thigh, the light touch prickling goosebumps across your skin. The moment you look down at him, he pops his mouth off of you, briefly sucking his fingers into his mouth, your arousal shining on his chin. His dark eyes don’t leave yours as he guides his fingers to your center, teasingly running them through your wetness before plunging them deep inside you. 

“Ah!” You cry out at the sudden sensation, deep arousal coursing through your body as you watch your boyfriend rut against the mattress in time with the thrust of his fingers. He finds that tender spot inside of you easily, hitting it with each pump.

“So tight, are you sure you’ll be able to take me? Hm?” He scissors his fingers inside of you, the sound of how wet you are making his cock twitch in his sweatpants. “Gonna stretch you open so I can stuff you fucking full,” you whine at his words, his dirty mouth driving you mad. “My pretty little cocksleeve, made for me,” 

“I can take you,” you nod, watching him add a third finger, the stretch stinging at first but quickly dissolving into pleasure. “I can, I can,” you repeat, “m-made for you Sangie, I was–” your words evaporate into thin air as he sucks your clit into his mouth again, rolling his tongue over and over. 

You feel your orgasm quickly approaching, warmth rushing to your center. You roll your hips on his mouth, holding him against you, hoping he’ll let you get there. He must sense you trying to take control, slowing his fingers slightly. Feeling your orgasm fading away, you whine, struggling to push your hips harder onto his fingers. He chuckles against you before pulling away completely. 

“Fuck!” You cry out in frustration, “what the fuck,” 

“Watch your fucking mouth,” he scolds you, pushing up onto his knees between your legs, a dark patch spreading on his sweatpants where the head of his leaking cock presses against the fabric. “Trying to come without my permission, and you think you can speak to me like that?” You feel your cheeks reddening as you realize what you did, your eyes widening at the hard set of his jaw. He’s pissed. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, tilting his head to one side until his neck cracks. 

“Flip over.” 

You’re frozen, propped up on your elbows staring at him, mouth hanging open. “W-what? I–” 

“Did I stutter? Flip the fuck over. Ass up. Now.” 

You scramble to roll onto your stomach, pushing up onto your hands and knees. “I didn’t mean to, Yeo, I’m s-sorry,” your cunt is throbbing in anticipation as you spread your thighs wide, dropping onto your elbows just how you know he wants you. 

“I’m sure you didn’t, greedy girl,” you hear shuffling behind you, feeling him getting closer to you, but not yet touching you. “How many, hm? Five?” You feel fingers ghosting across the middle of your back, trailing slowly down your spine. “Ten?” You shiver, knowing you can take ten but desperately wanting him inside of you sooner than that. 

“You’re lucky my cock is fucking aching right now or I’d do fifteen,” he growls, “how about five, hm?” His hand glides over the swell of your ass, and you have to stop yourself from leaning into his touch.

“Five,” you confirm, settling into the pillows beneath you.

“Five it is.” His hand disappears and your breath hitches in your throat. “Count.” A crack rings through the room as he spanks you hard, the warmth of the sting rushing straight to your core. 

“One,” you cry out, breath heaving. 

“Good.” Another spank, a little harder than the last. 

“Two,” your pussy clenches at the burn, and you can already feel the skin of your ass turning red. 

He doesn’t warn you before spanking you a third time, but he lets his hand linger to soothe your angry skin for a moment. 

“Three,” 

Another. 

“Four,” your voice cracks, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

“Color?” Your boyfriend asks from behind you, a hint of worry in his voice. 

“Green, I can do it, one more,” your words rush out, wanting to let him know you’re okay. 

“One more,” he confirms, bringing his hand down one last time, keeping it there to massage your sore skin. 

“Five,” you sob into the pillow, finally leaning into his touch, letting him guide your hips down to the mattress. 

“You did so well, pretty,” he leans over you, kissing you behind your ear as he brushes your hair to the side. “My good girl,” 

“Please, baby, I want you,” each hard smack on your ass only made you more and more desperate for your boyfriend. You know he wants to take care of you, check in, make sure you’re okay, but you need him badly. You roll over onto your back, and he hovers over you, only softness and concern in his eyes now. You open your legs, pulling him between them, his hardness resting against your core through his sweatpants.

“I’m okay, please Sangie,” you reach for him, cupping his cheek in your palm, wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck, tugging him closer. 

“Jagi,” he whispers, “are you sure?” He kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger a moment before pulling back to look at you.

“Mhm,” you nod, your hand trailing down to the hem of his tank top. He lets you pull it up slightly before helping you take it off completely. His skin glows under the sunlight streaming through your windows, casting gentle shadows to emphasize each one of his muscles. You pull your own top off over your head too, fully bare for him. You roll your hips against his clothed cock, drawing a groan up his throat.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he drinks you in, admiring your soft form. All dominance has faded from his mannerisms, loving and sheer want taking over. 

“Kiss me,” you reach for him, and he meets you halfway to press his lips to yours. His need for you takes over, and he licks into your mouth as he rushes to pull his sweatpants and boxer briefs down. His length bumps against your heat, Yeosang hissing at the feeling, rocking against you as he kicks his pants off completely. 

He breaks the kiss to kneel between your legs, fisting his angry, leaking cock. He pumps himself twice as he adjusts his positioning, running the tip of his cock through your arousal. “Ready?” He asks, nudging at your aching entrance. 

You nod, reaching for him. He leans over you, letting out a shuddering breath as he pushes into you, filling you in one swift thrust. You moan at the feeling, the sound swallowed by his mouth against yours. He pulls out to the tip as he glides his tongue over your bottom lip, then slams into you.

“Shit,” you mumble against his lips, licking into his mouth. He meets your kisses hungrily, tangling his tongue with yours as he moves his hips, slowly at first, then pumping into you with a slow and steady rhythm. 

You wrap your legs around him, locking your ankles behind his back as he picks up the pace, hitting deeper with each thrust, but not quite deep enough. 

“Harder, Yeo,” you break the kiss to ask, “need you deeper,” 

He chuckles darkly, knowing just how to get the angle you need. He straightens, staying inside of you as he lifts your hips with ease, keeping you suspended in a solid grip as he guides your hips to meet his thrusts, instantly hitting your g-spot. 

“Fuck, yes,” you cry out, letting him masterfully handle your body, bumping against that sensitive spot over and over. 

“So pretty taking my cock,” he praises you, fucking into you impossibly hard, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. “I love you so fucking much, my good girl,” 

“I love you,” you pant, getting closer and closer to the edge as he fucks into you, but you want to take care of him first. “W-wanna ride you, Sangie,” he slows down at your proposal. 

“You sure?” He knows your body must be spent, but you’re determined. 

“Wanna make you feel good,” you whine, “please?”

“I can’t say no to those eyes,” he grins.

He pulls out of you to roll you on top of him, easily maneuvering your body until you’re straddling him, his head nestled in the pillows. He lays back, eyes twinkling as he waits for you to take over. 

You reach for his cock, wrapping your fingers around it, his eyes rolling back as you slowly pump him. “Mm,” he moans at the feeling, resting his hands on your thighs as you adjust to line him up with your entrance. His fingers dig into your thighs as you slowly lower yourself onto him, gasping as your clit grazes his skin once he’s fully seated inside of you. 

“Fuck, jagiya,” he runs his hands up your thighs and around your hips to hold you still for a moment. “Be gentle with me, I don’t want this to be over too soon,” he chuckles. 

“We have all day, baby,” you lift your hips slightly despite his firm grip on you, but he doesn’t stop you. You drop back down, drawing another beautiful moan from his lips. His grip loosens as he gives in to you, and you start bouncing your hips, his cock reaching deep inside you. You plant your hands in the middle of his chest as you find your rhythm. 

He watches you with lidded eyes, his jaw hanging open as you take what you need. He reaches a hand up to palm your breast, your head falling back as he thumbs your nipple. It doesn’t take long for your climax to start building, his thumb on your nipple and your clit rocking against him bringing you right back to the precipice. 

You know he’s close too, his breathing turning shallow and his grip tightening on your hips. 

“Come here,” he wraps a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down to kiss him. 

The new angle gives him space to plant his feet on the mattress and roll his hips up into you, matching your rhythm. 

“Need to fill you up,” he pants, 

“Yes, please,” you squeeze around him, feeling him twitch inside of you. Warmth spreads throughout your body as you inch closer and closer to release, each rock of your clit against him pushing you there. 

“Come with me,” he commands you, your body tensing in his grasp as it washes over you. He fucks up into you twice more before he stills, spilling hot inside of you, groaning into your mouth. He lowers his hips slowly, guiding yours with him, staying inside of you, letting you collapse against his chest. 

You both struggle to catch your breath, holding each other close while you come down. He strokes your hair, and you let your eyes flutter closed at the feeling, listening to the slowing beat of his heart.

“Wanna get more comfortable?” He asks, and you laugh, suddenly aware of how sore your hips are feeling, and the stinging lingering on your ass from your earlier punishments.

“Mhm,” you let him lift you off of him, guiding your pliant form onto your bed. He rolls you onto your belly, settling behind you to massage your hips. He rubs gentle circles into your skin, the soreness and tension in your tired muscles melting away under his skilled hands. 

“I’ll be right back, my love,” he softly says as he hops up to wiggle back into his sweatpants, “I want to get something to clean you up, I’ll just be a minute.” He kisses your forehead before padding out of the room. You stretch your tired limbs, listening to the rustling and sounds of running water from down the hallway. 

A moment later, Yeosang comes back into the room, his arms full of various things for you. He plugs in your heating pad, letting it warm up as he wipes his release from your inner thighs with a warm towel. You watch him as he bustles around the room, setting water and Tylenol on your nightstand and fluffing up your pillow for you. He grabs you a clean pair of underwear and one of your big sleep shirts, gently helping you dress, peppering you with kisses all the while. 

You snuggle up facing his side of the bed, letting him cover you with a blanket and lay your heating pad over your lower back. He finally slides under the blanket with you, and you lay your head on his chest, throwing one leg over him, effectively caging him in. He chuckles at your clinginess. 

“How’re you feeling?” He whispers, peppering kisses along your hairline. 

“Perfect,” you nuzzle into him, and he rests his chin on top of your head. 

“That wasn’t too much?” 

“Of course not,” you assure him. “If it was, I would’ve told you to stop.” 

He nods, accepting your response, wrapping an arm around your waist. You lay together in comfortable silence for a moment. You feel yourself starting to drift off, until his voice cuts through.

“Baby?” Yeosang says, a note of hesitance in his tone. 

“Hm?” 

“Can I tell you a secret?” He whispers, squeezing your waist. 

“Of course,” you respond, rubbing a finger over a freckle on his chest. 

“I dropped that pan on purpose.” You can hear the smile in his voice as he confesses to you. 

“Kang Yeosang!” You scold him through your laughter, lightly smacking his chest. You prop yourself up to look at him, and he sheepishly smiles back at you.

“Sorry!” He apologizes half-heartedly, “I didn’t want you having all the fun without me.” 

“Well next time,” you inch closer to him, “why don’t you wake me up with your mouth instead,” you brush your lips over his as his arm tightens around your waist. 

”You don’t have to ask me twice,” he kicks the blanket off of you to roll you onto your back, crawling on top of you, swallowing your giddy giggles as he kisses you. He spreads your legs with his knees, dropping gentle kisses down your jawline. You quickly pull your heating pad out from under you and toss it on the floor. 

“Quick,” he whispers, “pretend to be asleep.” You close your eyes as he slides down your body, settling between your legs once again, and you realize you’ll definitely be in bed for the rest of the day. 

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

hope u enjoyed (: xo

[angelscribes]

thinking about f1 racer! gojo satoru and how you're his pretty little good luck charm.

while other f1 drivers took the time before the race to meditate or maybe talk to their race engineers and pit wall about their car, satoru would find himself knuckles deep into your pussy.

"a-ah– toru!" you mewl, manicured nails braced against the wall of the waiting room as you let your boyfriend work out all of his racing stress on you. the sound of your dripping cunt is lewd and loud, juices trickling down your thighs as you quiver in your heels, panties bunched at your ankles.

"shh, baby," satoru coos against the shell of your ear, lips brushing against it as his free hand snakes to cover your mouth. "you don't want everyone outside to hear how good i'm making you feel, right?"

of course, you were worried that satoru's engineers outside could hear you. after all, you were only separated by a door that may or may not be unlocked – satoru never confirmed or denied it. his race engineer or his personal trainer could walk in any moment and all they'll see is your teary eyes and how your cunt was greedily sucking in satoru's long and deft digits.

you shake your head, unable to coherently form an answer while satoru rearranges your mind and guts with only his fingers. your lover knew your body like every race track on the grid, the sharpest corners, the flat-out straights, the quickest ways to get you to cum.

call it performance anxiety, but he could never do well on race day until he manages to get you to squirt all over his fingers at least twice.

"c'mon, pretty girl," you hear your boyfriend's honeyed voice through the haze of pleasure as his fingers bully your g-spot, almost like a wake-up call, making your body clench around him. "i don't have much time left before i gotta get into the car. you're not going to deny me my championship win, are you?"

you shake your head once more, drool catching at the corners of your mouth. eyes rolling back and hips thrown back, you could only whimper and whine as you barrel towards your second? third? orgasm of the day, rendering you weak to the whims of your boyfriend.

satoru's fingers curl against your gummy walls before stretching them out, a dragged out and cocky "yeaaah" from your boyfriend as he stares at your glistening cunt with an almost prideful look. your pussy seizes satoru's fingers when your orgasm finally crashes over you which sends your knees buckling towards each other and satoru's hand slipping from your mouth to wrap around your waist quickly.

drivers and their reaction speeds.

"woah there," satoru chuckles dreamily, an almost boyish tone to his laugh when he watches you tremble like a newborn foal, his arm strong against you to steady you. "maybe i can put world orgasm champion to my resume, huh?"

you glare at him weakly over your shoulder as your body comes down from your pleasurable high despite the empty feeling of satoru withdrawing his digits from your sopping cunt. strings of your essence stretch as he pulls away, and you watch your boyfriend clean his fingers up with a gleeful hum.

"oh, come on, don't at me like that," satoru coos as he manhandles you into standing straight so that he can crush his lips against yours, letting you taste just how sweet you are. "you know it'll just get me going again, pretty girl."

you can't help but roll your eyes a little but you kiss him back nonetheless before pulling away with a sweet 'mwah'. the two of you make quick work of making yourselves presentable again, a routine at this point where satoru cleans you up with a towel while you adjust your clothing before slipping your panties back up, business as usual.

"are you sure you don't want help with that, toru?" you ask him, eyes darting down to the almost painful looking bulge in his race suit before you look back up.

"nah," satoru dismisses your concerns before he suits himself up and then flashes you a cocky smirk.

"it's my motivation for driving fast."

[heeambi]

꒰ ꜱʏɴᨵׁׅᴘꜱɪꜱ A late-night visit to Jake’s garage turns into something far dirtier than fixing cars. With the scent of grease and sweat clinging to his skin, Jake makes sure you leave with more than just oil on your hands ⁺ 𓂃

་། ᴛᴀɢꜱ #Smut #Public Sex #Dom/Sub Undertones #Dirty Talk #Praise/Degradation #Spitting #Fingering #Unprotected Sex #Oversimulation #Garage Setting #Jake Being Cocky As Hell ˘˖

◟ ֪ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ Sim Jaeyun x Fem!Reader ☆◟

𓏼 ɴᴀᴛ’ꜱ ɴᨵׁׅᴛᴇ Jake definitely hits different, Something about him all sweaty, covered in grease, and absolutely ruining you on the hood of a car just does things. The teasing, the filth, the way he just takes what he wants? Yeah. You’ll definitely be answering his calls again.. Hope you enjoyed it, and let me know what you thought :3 ֪

The dim glow of the garage lights cast long shadows across the concrete floor, the air thick with the scent of oil and metal. It was late, well past closing time, but you had nowhere else to be. Not when Jake had called you over with that knowing smirk, telling you he “needed a hand.”

Now you were here, perched on the hood of a half-fixed car, your thighs spread wide as Jake stood between them, his fingers playing with the hem of your shorts.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show up,” he murmured, his voice deep and teasing as he dragged his calloused hands along your bare skin. “Thought you were scared of getting your hands dirty.”

You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his touch. “You wish.”

Jake smirked. “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t need to wish. I know.”

His lips crashed against yours before you could fire back, rough and demanding, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you flush against him. The scent of grease clung to his skin, mixing with the musk of sweat and cologne, and fuck, it only made you want him more.

“You like this, don’t you?” he muttered against your lips, his hands sliding under your shirt, fingers grazing your bare skin. “Getting fucked in a dirty garage, knowing anyone could walk in and see you like this?”

The idea sent a rush of heat through your body, your thighs clenching around his waist. Jake noticed, of course.

“Yeah?” He chuckled darkly, pulling back just enough to look at you, his brown eyes blown with lust. “You’re such a little slut for me.”

Before you could protest, he grabbed your chin, forcing your mouth open. His eyes locked onto yours as he leaned in, letting a slow stream of spit drip from his lips onto your tongue.

“Swallow,” he ordered, his voice thick with arousal.

You obeyed without hesitation, the act making your entire body burn with need.

“Good girl,” Jake praised, his hand sliding between your legs, pressing against the soaked fabric of your shorts. “Fuck, you’re already dripping.”

You moaned as he pushed the fabric aside, his fingers slipping inside you with ease, curling just right. Your back arched against the car’s hood, your breath hitching as he worked you open.

“You’re taking my fingers so well,” he murmured, his other hand gripping your thigh, keeping you spread wide for him. “But I think you can take something bigger.”

Your breath caught as he unzipped his jeans, freeing himself. He was already hard, the tip glistening with precum as he stroked himself once before lining up at your entrance.

“Look at you,” he groaned, pushing just the tip inside. “So fucking needy.”

Your hands gripped the edge of the car as he thrust forward, stretching you inch by inch until he was fully seated inside you. He didn’t give you time to adjust—his hands gripped your waist, and then he was fucking into you with a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the empty garage.

“Jake—” you gasped, barely able to breathe as he drove into you, hitting deep with every thrust.

“That’s right, baby,” he groaned, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in quick, tight circles. “Say my name while I ruin you.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper, your body completely at his mercy. The car rocked beneath you, the metal hood cold against your burning skin, but none of it mattered—all you could focus on was Jake, his hands, his cock, the way he was fucking you like he owned you.

“You gonna cum for me?” he panted, his grip tightening on your hips, sure to leave bruises. “Cum all over my cock like a good girl?”

You nodded frantically, your body already on the edge. The pressure built higher, your stomach tightening, and then—

“Cum,” Jake commanded, and that was all it took.

Your body shattered around him, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Jake groaned as he felt you tighten around him, his thrusts growing sloppy before he buried himself deep one last time, spilling inside you with a low growl.

The garage fell silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing. Jake chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair as he looked down at you, completely wrecked on the car hood.

“Damn,” he smirked, tucking himself back into his jeans. “Might have to call you over more often.”

⑅ 𓏼 ͡ ᴍ.ʟɪꜱᴛ ֪ ɴᴀᴜɢʜᴛʏ ᨵׁׅ’ᴄʟᨵׁׅᴄᴋ ⁺ ⑅

◟ ⑅ 𓏼 ͡ ֪ ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ ֪ If you are a ᴍɪɴᴏʀ, please do not interact with my works. ◝ ֪

𓏼 ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ, @senazzzz @n1kish @heesngmluv ◟ ⑅

[taesjpq]

Jealousy part. I

genre — suggestive fluff, best friends to lovers, (smut in part II) ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ pairing — female!reader x best friend!Mingyu summary — You, Hoshi, Wonwoo, and Mingyu—inseparable. Their apartment feels like your second home. But one of them makes your heart race in ways you wish it wouldn’t. He treats you like you’re special—attentive, caring, almost like a boyfriend. But he’s not your boyfriend. He’s your best friend. He treats you this way—this is just how Mingyu is, right? word count — 4,3k (part l) 8,7k (part ||)

You can read part 2 here.

Warnings and notes under the line.

WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, jealousy/insecurity, unrequited/complicated feelings, emotional distress, avoidance/coping mechanisms, mild possessiveness (towards him), possible hangover, waking up next to someone, suggestive elements/mild sexual tension, light kiss [let me know if I forgot something]

notes: san (ateez) cameo (you will better understand in part II) Hoshi, Wonwoo cameo. This is my first published ff ever, I hope you like it. I‘m actually very nervous about it, so feel free to give your opinion. I just wrote this, when I felt down bad for Mingyu again (he‘s so boyfriend istg). The question is, when i am not exactly down bad for Mingyu? He‘s the standard.

"Any plans for the weekend?"  

San held the office door open for you, his gentle smile as familiar as ever.  

You sighed quietly, relieved that the exhausting workweek was finally over. It had been chaos—half the staff out sick, leaving you drowning in double the workload.  

San had been your lifesaver, stepping in every time you thought you might break under the pressure.  

"Actually, I'm meeting my friends at a restaurant," you replied, noticing the faint flicker of something wistful in his eyes.  

"Why am I not surprised?" he teased, his grin widening as you stepped through the door.  

San had a way of always asking about your plans, like he was hoping, just once, your answer might include him. But it never did. Just: „My friends, my friends, my friends.“ 

It wasn’t a lie, though. You practically lived at their apartment. Gaming nights with Wonwoo, gym sessions with Mingyu, and endless meals with Hoshi—that was your rhythm, your second home.  

"Thanks for the coffee, San. Next time, it’s on me," you said, flashing him a grateful smile.  

"Anytime," he replied, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer before you parted ways.

 

You arrived flustered, breathless from rushing. Of course, they were already here. 

As you pushed open the door, the warm buzz of conversation and clinking plates enveloped you.  

Your eyes scanned the restaurant, locking on them almost immediately: your boys—and a girl. A girl? 

She was sitting beside Mingyu, close enough that their arms nearly brushed. Her laugh carried across the table, light and unrestrained, and something about it made your stomach twist. Who was she?  

"Finally!" Hoshi greeted you as you approached, his voice brimming with playful exasperation. "We thought you’d ditched us."  

You forced a smile, settling into the usual chaos of their teasing welcome. 

"This is Hana," Wonwoo explained casually when he caught the question in your eyes.  

"And? don’t you think she looks just like me?" Hoshi added, grinning as he gestured dramatically toward her.  

You studied her more closely, and the resemblance hit you. It was uncanny—her smile, her energy. She could’ve been his twin. 

"I’ve been crashing at their place for a few days," Hana said, extending her hand toward you. "Hoshi insisted."  

Your polite smile barely reached your eyes. Why hadn’t anyone told you?  

"Nice to meet you," you said, shaking her hand and glancing around. There wasn’t an empty chair for you.  

Mingyu noticed immediately. Without hesitation, he stood, grabbing one from a nearby table and setting it beside him.  

"Thanks, Gyu," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.  

He nodded and gave you a gentle smile. 

Oh, how you’d missed him. His warmth, his silly jokes—the way his laughter could dissolve the stress of your week. You’d been looking forward to this, to catching up with him. But now, it seemed difficult.  

As the group settled into conversation, you tried to focus, tried to join in. But your attention kept drifting—to Hana, to how close she sat to Mingyu, to the way she leaned into him when she laughed. Her fingers grazed his arm casually, like she belonged there.  

"So, Hana, how do you like the city so far?" Wonwoo asked, drawing her attention.  

"It’s great," she said brightly. "Hoshi’s been showing me around—it’s been so much fun."  

Her hand lingered on Mingyu’s shoulder as she spoke, and your stomach knotted uncomfortably.  

Just then, the waiter arrived, placing drinks on the table. Four sojus. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise—they’d ordered before you arrived. That wasn’t how things worked. You always waited. It was a small tradition, but it mattered. Or, at least, it used to.  

"One soju for me too, please," you said quickly, catching the waiter before he walked away.  

But the unease didn’t leave. Hana’s touchiness continued—her laugh too loud, her attention on Mingyu too focused. He didn’t seem to mind, even smiled at her a few times. Yet, every so often, his eyes flicked to you, as if checking for something. 

You didn’t know why, but every time Hana’s hand brushed against his arm, you reached for your bottle. Every time she giggled a little too sweetly, your glass met your lips. The warm burn sliding down your throat was easier to deal with than the twist in your chest. 

"You should see these two at the gym," Hoshi chimed in suddenly, pointing between you and Mingyu. "They’re like workout aliens or something." 

The group laughed, and you managed a small smile, but your heart wasn’t in it. 

Hana giggled, leaning closer to Mingyu. "Maybe you can show me some moves sometime," she said, her tone playful. 

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.  

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go. 

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you lie, the words tumbling out too quickly, barely convincing even to yourself. 

You needed space—air that wasn’t thick with your confusion, your frustration. If you stayed another second, your face would betray you, exposing the childish jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.  

The cool evening air hit you like a lifeline as you stepped outside, goosebumps forming on your arms from the crisp breeze. 

You closed your eyes briefly, letting it kiss your flushed cheeks, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. The dull, relentless throb of longing refused to fade.  

“This isn’t the bathroom.”  

The familiar voice sent a jolt through you, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.  

You glanced back anyway, already masking your shock with a strained smile. Of course, it’s him. It’s always him.  

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, forcing a lightness you didn’t feel. “This looks like a bathroom to me.”  

He chuckled, that low, warm laugh that always did things to your chest, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. And despite yourself, you smiled too, because how could you not? 

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.  

Without a word, he steps closer, draping your jacket over your shoulders. “You’re probably freezing,” he says, his voice gentle, but with a tenderness that makes your stomach tighten.  

His hands brush lightly against your skin as he adjusts the jacket, and it sends a shiver through you—not from the cold, but from the barely-there touch. 

You look up, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes meet his. His gaze softens, a flicker of concern crossing his face.  

The silence that followed stretched taut between you, thick and heavy with unspoken words. Neither of you seemed willing to break it. The faint hum of traffic and the muffled buzz of laughter from the bar filled the empty space.  

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress. Don’t say it. Don’t bring her up. Just let it go. But the question clawed its way out of you anyway.  

“I didn’t know Hana was staying at your place,” you blurted, the words sharper than you intended, laced with something raw and exposed.  

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “Yeah, I didn’t know either. Trust me.”  

You raise an eyebrow, still unsure. “Hoshi didn’t mention it?” 

“He forgot,” Mingyu mutters, shaking his head. What a Hoshi thing to happen, you thought.  

“I walked into my room, and she was already asleep in my bed. I didn’t have the heart to wake her, so I took the couch for the week.”  

Your stomach twisted, the weight of his explanation sitting heavy. Of course, he wouldn’t complain. He’s Mingyu—always generous, always selfless. Always giving more of himself than he should.  

“Oh,” you managed, your voice too light, too fake. “It’s just funny to think… if I showed up at your place, I’d find her instead of you.” You tried to laugh, but the sound was hollow, even to your ears.  

He shrugged, casual and unaffected. “It wasn’t a big deal for me. I worked overtime all week, so I wasn’t home much anyway.”  

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.  

You felt the sting of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away quickly. Not here. Not now.  

The night had been shallow and hollow, a void you couldn’t seem to escape. All you’d wanted was a quiet evening with your friends, especially Mingyu. Just sitting beside him, leaning against his shoulder—feeling the solid warmth of him—would’ve been enough.  

But instead, you’d spent the evening watching Hana, her laughter, her touches, her presence invading spaces you’d always considered yours. Even if you don't have the right to do so. 

The ache in your chest sharpened, spreading through you like wildfire. You couldn’t stay here any longer.  

“I’m gonna head home,” you said, your voice flat, eyes fixed on the ground. “I think I need some rest after this week.”  

You felt his gaze land on you, heavy and searching, and for a moment, you wavered under its weight.  

“I’ll take you home,” he said softly, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.  

“No, it’s okay,” you replied quickly, trying to steady your tone. “I have my car.”  

“I know,” he says, stepping closer, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes scan your face, tracing every inch of you, as if reading you in ways that make your heart race. “But you shouldn’t drive. You drank too much.” 

“I’m fine,” you muttered, frustration bubbling up. “I’m not drunk.” 

 And then, he speaks again, voice softer, more tender. 

“Your cheeks,” he murmurs, his thumb gently brushing against your flushed skin. “They’re red. That happens when you drink too much.” 

You freeze, his touch lingering. Your heart pounds in your chest, and his proximity feels like a punch to your gut. He looks even more handsome than usual—his messy hair falling over his forehead, the soft fabric of his shirt still loose and unbuttoned just enough to make your breath catch. The way he stands there, effortlessly composed, but so close that you can almost taste the air between you—his scent wrapping around you like a warm, familiar blanket. 

God, you feel weak in front of him. 

“I can’t let you drive like this,” he adds softly. 

You want to protest, but the words catch in your throat. He cares. He always does. 

“Unless…” he tilts his head slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ve got other plans?”  

A sharp, throbbing pain pulsed through your head as you reached for your phone, your limbs feeling heavy under the weight of sleep. 

The sunlight filtering through the curtains was way too bright, making you wince as you blindly swiped to answer the call without checking the caller ID. 

“Hello…?” Your voice was hoarse, thick with exhaustion. 

“Mingyu, where are you?! I’ve been trying to reach both of you for hours!” 

Your brows furrowed, confusion washing over you like a cold wave. Mingyu? 

You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the name on the screen. Hoshi Hyung. 

Your headache made it hard to process, but one thing was clear—you would never save him like that. 

Why the hell was he even calling you about Mingyu? 

Just as the pieces of the puzzle refused to click into place, you felt it—a presence beside you. 

With a slow, sinking feeling, you turned your head to the right. 

And there he was. 

Mingyu. 

All 187 centimeters of him, sleeping peacefully under your blanket like he belonged there. His hair was tousled, his breathing deep and even, his broad chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. 

Your eyes widened, your grip on the phone tightening. You hung up immedietly.  

Fuck. 

Before you could spiral too much, Mingyu let out a deep sigh, his arm stretching out lazily—almost like he was reaching for you. His eyes, still hazy with sleep, fluttered open but instantly softening the moment they land on you,— The way you were staring at him, as if he'd just appeared out of nowhere —his lips curled into a knowing smirk. 

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough with sleep. 

“It’s 2 p.m., Mingyu.” 

He blinked slowly before lazily glancing around the room. “Shit, really?” His voice was raspy, thick. He let out a slow breath before sinking deeper into the pillows. “I slept so fucking good.” A lazy smile tugged at his lips as he let his eyes fall shut again. 

You watched him. His dark hair was a complete mess, strands sticking out in every direction, and yet, somehow, it only made him look softer. His skin looked warm and tan against the white sheets. His lips—full, slightly swollen from sleep—parted just the tiniest bit, and for a moment, you had to fight the urge to reach out, to trace them with your fingertips, just to see if they were as soft as they looked. 

You swallowed hard. "I... uh—what happened last night?" 

Mingyu let out a soft chuckle, rolling onto his side to face you properly. “You really don’t remember?” 

Your silence was answer enough. 

“Oh, this is fun,” he mused, resting his cheek against his palm. “You were very affectionate. Like, I knew you liked me, but I didn’t expect you to cling to me like that.” 

Your face burned instantly. “Shut up.” 

He grinned wider. “You wouldn’t let go. Kept saying I couldn’t leave, that I should sleep next to you.” His voice dropped into something teasing. “Should I start staying over more often?” 

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him. He laughed, catching it effortlessly before it could hit his face. 

“Ohhh, so violent first thing in the morning,” he teased. “Where’s all that love from last night, huh?” 

You wanted to escape the awkwardness, so you stepped away from the bed, but as you did, your gaze betrayed you—flicking toward Mingyu. His white shirt hung loosely on his frame, almost completely unbuttoned, exposing a hint of his chest and the silver chain resting just above it. The sight made your breath catch for a moment, your heart skipping. 

Mingyu caught your glance. His eyes met yours for a heartbeat, but then they dropped—slowly, unwillingly, lingering on your legs just a moment too long. 

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the fabric of your dress inching up, revealing more of your legs than you'd intended. The air between you both seemed to thicken, heavy with something unspoken. 

In an awkward flurry, Mingyu began buttoning his shirt, his movements too quick, too self-conscious, like he was suddenly aware of every inch of space between you. 

You cleared your throat, trying to fill the silence, and nervously stammered, “I—I’m making breakfast.” 

Mingyu immediately sat up, “I’ll do it.” 

You turned to glare at him, a bit sharper than you intended. “I can make it on my own.” 

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

His eyes flickered over you briefly—the exhaustion, the headache written all over your face, the way your clothes were still crumpled from last night. 

“You should take a shower,” he added, voice gentle. “It’ll help with the headache.” 

You blinked at him, and looked down on you after.  

“Yeah..probably.” 

You hesitated for a second before heading towards the bathroom, still feeling like you were stuck in some weird dream. 

The moment you stepped in front of the mirror, you almost flinch. 

Your makeup was smudged, your hair an absolute mess, strands sticking to your forehead. Your dress from last night was wrinkled and slightly loose on one side. 

You looked horrible. Greasy. Disgusting. 

Mingyu slept next to this? 

You suddenly wanted to cry. 

Taking a deep breath, you quickly peeled off your clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the weird feelings in your chest. 

By the time you were done, you felt human again. 

There was no way you were putting that dress back on, so you grabbed your bathrobe, tying it tightly around your waist before stepping out. 

Your hair was still damp, strands clinging to your skin as you walked barefoot toward the kitchen, following the smell of food. 

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.  

And then he turned around. 

For a moment, it was like time froze. 

Mingyu’s breath hitched the second his eyes landed on you. 

The damp strands of hair framing your face, the way your robe sat snugly around you, revealing the delicate curve of your collarbone—he was so unprepared for this. 

His fingers twitched around the wooden spoon, and for a split second, he forgot what he was even doing. His grip almost faltered. 

He was staring. 

Hard. 

You raised an eyebrow. “You good?” 

Mingyu swallowed, snapping out of it. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’m—uh, food’s almost done.” 

He forced a smile, turning back to the stove way too quickly—like he needed a second to compose himself. 

You didn’t question it, shrugging as you took a seat at the table. 

Mingyu, on the other hand, inhaled deeply, gripping the spoon like it was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his mind. 

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

“So.” Mingyu cleared his throat, a little too forcefully. “How’s your headache?” 

You barely looked up, scrolling through the endless messages from Hoshi and Wonwoo. “Hm? Oh-It still hurts. But I’m sure I’ll feel better after eating something."

A beat of silence. 

Too long. Too heavy. 

You, sitting there like that—bare-faced, hair still damp, wrapped up in your robe—he had seen you like this before. And yet, right now, it felt… different. His fingers flexed against the edge of the kitchen counter. 

He didn’t want to think about why. 

“How’s work been lately?” he asked, voice casual—too casual. “You looked exhausted yesterday. And, well… the number of drinks you had kind of spoke for itself.” 

You let out a dry laugh, stretching your legs beneath the table. “Yeah, work… Work has been insane. Feels like half the office is out sick, and I’m the lucky one picking up the slack.” 

Mingyu frowned as he turned off the stove, moving with practiced ease. “That’s bullshit.” A pause. “No wonder you were exhausted.” 

That wasn’t the reason you drank last night, but he didn’t need to know that.  

You shrugged, watching him. The way he knew where everything was. The way he moved through your kitchen like he belonged there. Because he did. 

Mingyu set a plate in front of you before settling into the chair across from you. He picked up his fork but didn’t eat right away, just watching you for a beat. 

“You really need a break,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Then, his eyes flickered to yours, and something shifted in his expression. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Or maybe just… new clothes.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

He gestured vaguely toward you. “I mean, I knew you had a couple of my things, but—” He gave you a pointed look. “At this point, half of your closet is mine. I could practically  move in here.” 

You almost choked on your food. 

That little shit. 

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “You know, I always wondered where my stuff kept disappearing to.” He tilted his head, pretending to think. “For a while, I actually believed I had a hole in my closet.” 

You swallowed your bite. “Weird. Sounds like a you problem.” 

He scoffed. “Oh, really?” 

You nodded, keeping your face blank. “Mhm. No clue what you’re talking about.” 

His gaze flickered over you, his smirk deepening. “So, you’re telling me my hoodies just magically disappeared? Along with my t-shirts? And my beanie? And—” 

“Okay, okay,” you cut in, groaning. “Maybe your clothes are just… way too comfortable. Not my fault they’re basically begging to be stolen.” 

“Begging,” he repeated, like he was tasting the word. 

“Yes.” You met his eyes, feigning innocence. “I don’t see the issue.” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.” 

You smirked, tilting your head. “And yet, you still let me steal your stuff.” 

He exhaled through his nose, picking at his food. “I don’t let you. You just take it.” 

“Semantics.”  

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but there was something in his expression—something warm, something familiar. 

For a moment, it almost felt normal again. Like the weird tension from before had settled into something softer. Something easier. 

But then his eyes lingered on you a second too long. 

And suddenly, it was back. 

That unspoken thing between you. 

Neither of you acknowledged it. 

You just kept eating. 

And Mingyu? 

Mingyu was so, so screwed. 

Your phone started ringing. Hoshi was calling. 

We were screwed. 

By the time evening settled in, you had changed into something comfortable—his clothes, to be exact. He was still here, lingering in your space, and for a few fleeting hours, everything felt right. As if this was how it was always meant to be. As if this was your everyday. But deep down, a small voice whispered, warning you not to get used to it. 

After dinner,  Mingyu is still here. 

You’re in the kitchen, washing dishes side by side like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand brushes against yours when he reaches for a plate, and it’s almost too quick to register. But you don’t pull away. Neither does he. 

He leans against the counter, arms crossed loosely, watching you as you load the dishes into the dishwasher. His voice breaks the silence, low and casual, but there’s an edge to it, something like hesitation. 

“Do you still have a headache?” 

Before you can speak, he’s close. His presence fills the space between you. His left hand gently presses against your forehead.. His right hand moves to your neck, fingers brushing lightly over your skin.  

You barely notice it at first, but when you shift slightly, you feel it—your back pressing against the counter. Mingyu is so close, standing in front of you, subtly caging you in You can barely breathe. You don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he’s so close, or the fact that you want him closer.  

Your voice falters when you answer. "I’m fine now. It’s... better." You watch as Mingyu’s face softens in an instant at your words. 

Neither of you moves, standing close, too close.  

Mingyu’s lips quirk into a grin, but there’s a hint of something more in his voice. “My clothes look good on you. I should let you steal them more often.” 

You laugh, but it’s breathless. You stretch up, reaching for his face, your fingers brushing his skin. You squint your eyes, making a playful face. “I’d do it anyway. Don’t need your permission.” 

Mingyu chuckles, but his gaze shifts, sharpening just enough for you to notice. He steps closer. The warmth radiating off his body, the faint brush of his leg against yours, the way his chest is so close that if you just leaned in the smallest bit, you'd be pressed against him. It’s intoxicating. You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing for a second until you force yourself to inhale, only to take in the faint scent of him—clean, familiar, utterly Mingyu. 

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

And then, he inches closer, almost without thinking, and his lips brush against yours—just the lightest touch, so soft that it could almost be a breath. Your body tenses, and for a second, everything stills.  

But fuck, it’s enough to send heat coursing through his veins. 

His lips are soft, teasing, brushing lightly against yours. The kiss is slow, barely there, but enough to leave you gasping for more. 

You inhale sharply, your breath mixing with his. You don’t move away. If anything, you shift closer, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. 

His lips linger, hovering, teasing. Testing. 

His self-control is hanging by a thread. 

He tells himself to stop. You were loosing yourself in it. You- 

- Ding Dong 

The sound of the doorbell rings, slicing through the tension. You both freeze. The world shifts back into focus. The heat, the closeness, everything evaporates in an instant. 

You step back, your breath coming in uneven gasps. Mingyu looks away, running a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. 

You can read part 2 now, here.