#Another thing I pulled from my WIPs

[teafairywithabook]

The Letter

Another little WIP since I'm cleaning out docs I'll never do anything with. This time based on the monthly character letters sent out. Avior wrote one to Starlight during their first time in the trap. What happened to it? Takes place just before their escape in the end

The letter survived. Their bed, their sky of stars, the small luxuries that Avior had conjured for Starlight all dissolved in an instant when he went crashing over the cliff inside the trap. It wasn’t dramatic, not like Aviors fall had been. Not like the blue lightning flash that was all of Avior’s magic, all of Avior, arcing across the space between himself and his Starlight to set them free had been. No. With the magic that held all the things summoned in existence gone, they simply disappeared. 

But not the letter. 

That one thing took such little effort but it was important to Avior. So important that the part of him that made the letter held it close to his heart, and it survived with him.

It nearly hadn’t. Avior was finally healed enough that he could return to the empty room, the letter was all that was in there. Avior was nearly broken again when he found it. He sat on the floor with the letter in his hands and wailed. Avior debated on whether to let it evaporate, but in the end he didn’t destroy it. He couldn’t bring himself to. Instead he took it to the fourth circle and threw it into the gusts of wind that never seemed to subside. 

And Avior forgot about the letter.

Years later - from Avior's perspective at least - he had tried to argue Starlight out of their foolhardy plan to merge with the Meridian. Avior had been sitting cross-legged by the campfire. The last of the dry twigs Avior was using for kindling had been used up in the flames. He turned to grab another handful and found the letter he’d thrown had been floating around, somehow jammed in the pile.  Worse for wear but indestructible as long as he’d willed it’s existence. Avior held it in his shaking fingers. 

Reading it again after so long, he remembered the love and optimism he’d felt. That Starlight had felt. How they’d smiled when they had read the letter, thrown their arms around him and kissed him sweetly and gently. How they’d planned to write one in return when they’d escaped.

Avior dropped the letter and stood. He needed to walk. Anywhere would do. The wave of hopelessness was threatening to wash him away and he needed to find new shores for a brief time. Starlight may not remember this letter, but they held his heart just the same whether or not they knew it.

A few minutes later, Starlight arrived at the empty campfire to convince Avior to take him to a rift. They sighed and turned to leave, they’d come back later. Avior obviously didn’t want to talk. As they left, a piece of paper caught their eye…

[cyncerity]

GUYS ITS TIME

this is a big day for the Store Shifter AU

i have had this story in the works since 2021. 2021. THIS HAS HAUNTED ME FOR 4 YEARS, i just didn’t know how to tell it, but i finally, finally finished it. those of you who have been around for a while will know I’ve been teasing the inclusion of someone in this au for years, and i’m really excited to add them.

buckle up, this is the longest thing i’ve written in a while. it’s over 5k words long and has some hidden lore stuff that i am so glad im finally able to get into. hope you enjoy and please send asks if you wanna know where this goes next, cause i have so much to talk about >:)

tw: soft, safe vore. don’t like it, don’t read it

Sapnap was at work today, as he was most days of the week. Karl and Q were borrowing, which also wasn’t unheard of, though they tended to prefer going out at night. However, since Sapnap had started working during the day and sleeping through the night, Karl and Quackity had been trying to align their sleep patterns to his. Hence, borrowing during the day.

Karl and Quackity had split up. This was also not unheard of; on days when the store wasn’t as busy, it was less of a danger to go alone, and going alone garnered more supplies in a shorter time. It also put them in different parts of the store in case Sapnap needed them. And today, it sounded like he did. He was putting small handmade containers he’d just filled with disinfectant into the bag slung around his shoulder when he heard a girl (Hannah, he thinks Sapnap called her once), call someone about “him” being on the floor in an aisle a little farther from where Quackity is. Apparently “he” was pale, shaking, and very out of it in general.

Q was used to hearing these sorts of things from Sapnap’s concerned employers. Sometimes Sapnap would manage to drag himself to the break room and Dream would shoot a text to their home phone that their third needed help, or find them in the store and take them to Sapnap if he could. If Karl was nearby, he’d help Sapnap out and spend the rest of his day in the shifter’s storage. On days when Quackity was out borrowing, he’d help Sapnap. Today was one of those days.

He found Sapnap keeled over in the aisle, arms clutching his stomach and long dark hair in front of his eyes. He…he wasn’t wearing the store uniform. Quackity swore he saw him put it on that morning. “Sapnap…?” he called quietly from his place on a shelf, readjusting the face mask he wore to hide his scar. No answer. He moved closer. He hadnt noticed the lack of chesnut brown roots in his hair, the fact that he knew Sapnap never went out without his beanie but this man wasn’t wearing one, the fact that this stranger was too lean and tall to be his fiancé. No, none of these things clicked until the giant made eye contact with him.

That wasn’t Sapnap.

Quackity had seen that expression on Sapnap’s face before. The dilated pupils, the pale, empty look of hunger. Even if he only saw the man’s face for a split second before trying to hide, he knew that look. There was no doubt in Q’s mind that this man was a shifter, but he wasn’t his shifter. No matter, he had caught the strangers attention, and even if he was fast for a borrower, he wasn’t faster than a human.

He was grabbed and quickly shoved into the stranger’s mouth, kicking and clawing as much as he could, but it didn’t seem to work. He screamed, begging that Dream or Sapnap, hell, even Foolish, someone, anyone would come help him. But no help came. Quackity felt the throat ensnare his leg, dragging him deeper into this giant and further trapping him. His screams increased tenfold, but the purring he felt from the throat only got louder. His screams were cut off as he was dragged fully into the throat with another swallow. In some fucked up way, Quackity felt…comforted. It reminded him so much of Sapnap, he could almost pretend like it actually had been his lover who he’d gone to help. But it wasn’t, and he needed to convince his mind that the purrs around him only spelled danger, that this wasn’t just another night with his fiancé in the comfort of the break room. He’d been eaten by a stranger, and if he was gonna get out of this he needed to make an escape plan.

He got to the stomach and realized it was not just smaller, but colder than Sapnap’s, though just by a bit. If he hadn’t been in his partner’s stomach merely the day before, he probably wouldn’t have noticed. But he knew how long it took for a shifter to shake off the predatory instincts and regain themselves, and sure enough he soon heard the giant around him groan and felt the wall in front of him push in. He kicked it but stayed silent otherwise as the stranger flinched at the contact. “Fuck…shit, did I eat a rat or something??” he finally heard the giant speak, though he wasn’t expecting the strange foreign accent that he’d only heard from Tommy and Tubbo. Quackity almost scoffed at the comment but held it back. Rat, he could work with rat. The shifter had to know he couldn’t digest living things, Quackity would just be kept there until the stranger’s instincts were satisfied and they spat him out, then he’d make a run for it! Perfect, foolproof!

Or it would have been.

“Siri, can swallowing a rat give you rabies- what the fuck is that…?” Quackity froze as heard the giant whisper. Shit, what was he looking at? Was Karl out there? Or did he- oh no. Quackity had a bag with him. One that he was not currently wearing; he’d dropped it so it didn’t weigh down his escape. Which means it’s still on the shelf of the aisle where the giant is standing. But maybe that’s not what the giant found! Maybe there was something else weird in the aisle? Before he could even think of what else would cause the shifter to react like that, the muscles in the stomach tensed and Quackity could hear the breathing sounds above him get faster and harder. He felt the organ shake as the giant presumably ran, before hearing a door slam. The giant continued to hyperventilate as the stomach was squeezed tighter, pressing against Quackity from all angles. Great, he knew what this was, Sapnap did it to piss him off sometimes. The giant was sitting with his knees pulled fully to his chest, except unlike when Sapnap did it, this giant was hyperventilating, and from the sounds of it, now crying. Awesome, full on breakdown position. Quackity was so, so fucking done with this giant. The sooner he got out of here, the better.

One of the already tight walls pressed in on him, like the giant was poking him from the outside. Again. And again. And again. Quackity paid it no mind. So the poking stopped and something different took over. Clicking. A strangely echoey noise that sounded like a knock against wood, clicked at different frequencies and patterns. It took Quackity a while to realize what it was through his annoyance. It was a signal. A signal he knew in his core from his raising as an outside borrower. In situations where verbal communication was unsafe or slow, borrowers had a system of noises that could save time and reduce noise to communicate. Dream had explained that humans had something similar called morse code, but that it was an alphabet without any form of punctuation or tone indication, while borrowers had a whole language that could be tapped or clicked with their tongues.

This…this giant was a borrower.

Quackity had almost forgotten that borrowers could be shifters. And he was literally marrying one. Wow, he felt dumb.

‘So sorry. You’re safe. Accident. So, so sorry. No hurt. Never. You’re safe. So, so sorry.’ The giant clicked, the remorseful low tones barely able to be translated through his sniffling. Holy shit now he just felt kinda bad.

“It’s- well, it’s not exactly alright, you did eat me, but.. you’re like me, aren’t you?” Quackity responded verbally, the idea that he was speaking to a fellow borrower instead of a predator easing his panic. ‘Yes.’ The giant clicked. “You aren’t the only borrower I’ve met that does...this. I know what you are, and I know that I’m not going to get hurt. Just, can you be sure to leave me at the store when your instincts are settled? I have family here.” “Oh, oh, of course, absolutely.” The giant finally verbally responded. “You…you really trust that I’m not going to hurt you?” “Borrowers gotta stick together, man. I trust that even as a giant you’ll honor that. Plus I get eaten fairly often so I know it’s safe; I was more worried about getting kidnapped than digested.” “…I didn’t know there were others like me.” “Once you let me out I’ll introduce you. Theres two more right in this store, one more down the road.” Quackity responded, patting the wall in front of him. “Now can you please stand up i’m cramped as shit.” “Right! Sorry. Kinda panicked there for a second. I found your bag and freaked out cause i’d never swallowed another borrower before. It feels worse when it’s someone of your species who you know was raised to be afraid of you.” The giant apologized as the space around Quackity finally expanded again. “Bitch what have you been doing if you’ve never swallowed a borrower??” “There’s a river near my house where wasted teens hang out after dark. I mean, like, blackout drunk. I just grow giant, swallow them, and then the next morning when I spit them out I pretend I found them passed out in the river and call them a cab. If I had a nickel for every time they explained their nightmare of a giant eating them alive I’d be the richest man in England.” “In where?” “England, where I used to live, across the ocean. I just moved here to live with my boyfriend.” “Oh, congrats, man.” “Thanks. I should probably go back out to talk to him, though. I kinda just ran off.” “Fair enough. I’m good to just chill and nap, if I really need you I know how to get your ‘attention.’” Quackity finished with a click, louder and higher pitched than the others; the catch all emergency “pay attention to me” noise. The stranger laughed and clicked back an affirmation before Quackity felt them pat the wall outside of him and leave whatever room he’d locked himself in.

This felt…oddly natural. Less than an hour ago Quackity was scared for his life, now he was just having a chat with the stranger who just swallowed him alive. He only had one thought as he dozed off: how did he keep ending up in situations like this.

~~~~

“You’re sure he’s not-” “Sapnap, I’ve checked everywhere, I have no idea where else he could be.” Karl pleaded from his place hidden on top of the shelves. Sapnap cursed. “My shift is almost over, when this store closes we can scour every inch of it to find him. In the meantime I’ll see if Dream knows anything, you check at home, ok?” “Ok. I love you, Sap.” “I love you, too. We’ll find him, ok?” Karl nodded, willing tears out of his eyes as he darted away towards the vents.

Quackity had been missing for a couple hours now. He’d gone out borrowing and hadn’t been found at any of the aisles he’d said he was going to hit and hadn’t shown up at any rendezvous points. Sapnap and Karl had no idea where he was.

Dream was basically nonexistent today, showing his boyfriend all around the store instead of managing. Sapnap was trying to stay as far from those two as physically possible. Sure he may be a hypocrite for complaining about pda when him and his fiancés were so obnoxiously cuddly, but that’s different. Theyre engaged, he’s marrying them. Dream and whoever-the-fuck are just holding hands and being all touchy and gross in front of the customers. No thank you.

Sapnap is sure that Quackity would agree and make fun of them with him if he could only find him.

Soon enough, the store was closing for the night and everyone was gathering their stuff to leave after the customers had left. Sapnap shot Karl a questioning text, knowing they had a phone in their living room, to which the answer was negative. Still no sign of Quackity, so Dream was their last lead. But Dream, for some fucking reason, was nowhere to be seen, no matter where Sapnap looked for him. He was about ready to pull his hair out when his search was cut off by the loudspeaker. “Hey guys! I realize a lot of you haven’t met my boyfriend yet so if it’s not too much trouble, I want you all to congregate at the center of the store before you go if you’ve got the time!” Sapnap groaned. He did not give two shits about Dream’s boy toy right now, one of the loves of his life could be in actual trouble. That, and the sickly sweet excitement in Dream’s voice was actually making him nauseous. Still, now he knew where Dream was.

So Sapnap made his way to the center of the store, not surprised to see almost everyone else crowded around the newcomer. Sapnap could only see him from behind, but he was much shorter than Dream (which still makes him taller than Sapnap, unfortunately) with dark thick wavy hair. He also had a ridiculous accent that he’d only heard from Tommy, Tubbo, and that one baking show Dream put on before the store opened. Dream spotted Sapnap first, and quickly took the liberty of introducing him. “Oh, Nick! Good to see you, man, you haven’t met my boyfriend yet!” Dream gestured to the stranger next to him, who spun to meet Sapnap’s eye. He froze, and the man across from him seemingly did, too. Theres no god damn way. Not after all this time, there’s no chance. “George, this is Nick, and Nick-“ “Sapnap?” The (not?) stranger next to him asked in an accent that didn’t fit the face he was looking at. The face he had sworn he’d seen for the last time almost a decade ago. The face he’d sworn to memory since it was his fault, all his fault that his lover’s brother was dead,

“C’mon, George, hurry up!”

“Slow down!”

that the oldest of Sam’s kids was gone,

“I told dad I wouldn’t be late! Your family is probably already there, Sam hates being late! And Karl is over, too, we gotta move!”

“We’ve been running..for 30 minutes, Sap. Gimme a break…”

that his best friend in the fucking world was-

“Come on we’re so close!! Just, like, another few feet, you’ll be fine.”

“Just go ahead without me,”

“Fine, but when Sam is mad at you it won’t be my fault!”

right there.

“George?”

His best friend didn’t move, at first. None of the employees or Dream dared to say a word as they stared at each other, both of them with tears beginning to stream down their faces. Sapnap took a step forward, then another, scared that if he moved any faster that the ghost in front of him would dissipate. George broke the tension when he full on sprinted and tackled Sapnap in a hug, clinging to him like he was his only lifeline, sending both of them to the floor. Sapnap clung back, burying his face in the shoulder of his best friend who he’d mourned for so, so many years and he sobbed. He sobbed like he was 12 again, like he was the age he’d been when he’d lost the person who meant more to him than anything in the world. George cried more silently, but the steadily growing tear stain on Sapnap’s shirt and ragged breathing betrayed him.

Sapnap pulled away and grabbed George’s face, just looking it over. It hadn’t changed much, over the years. He looked older, of course, and tired. But he was still…George. He still had the same glint in his eye, the same quirk to his lip. Holy shit. It hadn’t truly hit Sapnap until he was face to face with him, holding him in his arms, sobbing into him and feeling his heartbeat against his body, and feeling the warmth of his flushed cheeks in his palms. Holy shit, George, his best friend, his George, was alive. Sapnap laughed lightly, the tears not stopping. George looked at him, grabbing his hands and intertwining their fingers as he began to laugh with him. The two of them dissolved into a fit of laughter as they kept crying, sitting up together and unwilling to untangle their fingers, pressing their foreheads together, something Sapnap had learned was strictly a borrower show of affection so he was sure that to all the humans watching they looked stupid. He didn’t care. He had his best friend back.

Wait. The humans.

Sapnap was big, he had just gotten off his shift. George was…his size. Holy fuck George was a shifter. “Uh, not to interrupt the moment, but…how do you two know each other?” “And what the fuck is a ‘Sapnap’?” Dream asked, followed by Punz. “Nickname!” Sapnap was quick to answer, standing and yanking George to his feet as well. “Yeah, haha, my close friends have been calling me Sapnap since childhood. You fall asleep in a tree one time and you’re pegged for life, y’know?” He laughed awkwardly, the lie coming out forced and unconvincing. “How are you two childhood friends, I thought you were from here?” Dream asked him, and George cut off whatever explanation Sapnap was going to give. “He is, so am I. I…i didn’t end up in England willingly. I was kidnapped, i’ve been trying to get home for years.” Dream’s eyes widened, the rest of the humans responded in various levels of shock, some gasping and some staring at him sadly. “I know, I know, poor George has spent the last 9 years on the wrong side of the ocean, boohoo. Thats over now, I’m back and I don’t want to think about it anymore.” George didn’t miss the pained look on Sapnap’s face as he explained. “I didn’t blame you. Not for a second.” He said quietly, and saw tears form in Sapnap’s eyes again. “If I hadn’t-“ “There was no way you could have known. It wasn’t your fault. I’m glad you weren’t taken with me, even if I missed you.” “I’m still sorry.” “Well sucks, cause you’re not allowed to be. I’m not letting you.” Sapnap scoffed wetly. “I’m 21 years old you can’t tell me what to do anymore.” “When could I ever.”

God, Sapnap had missed him. Even after all this time, their banter came easy, like the years of separation and mourning had never even happened. “I’m glad you two found each other again. You seem really close.” Dream said after he thought the two had finished their moment. “He’s only my best friend in the entire world that i’ve thought was dead for 9 years.” Sapnap shrugged, and George elbowed him. Sapnap laughed. Yeah, he’d missed him.

The next half an hour was spent with the humans getting to know George better, and with him and Sapnap telling (incredibly altered) stories of their childhoods. “Oh, oh! Sap, we have a bet!” George yelled excitedly, something akin to mischief in his eye. “We do?” “Yes! I bet that you’d either end up with my brother or the new kid in town, and you bet that I’d end up with that guy my age from the town over who gave me gifts sometimes. I got kidnapped before i got to see how that all went down, and if I remember correctly, it was 10 bucks to whoever was right. You already lose,” George said as he gestured to Dream, who was basically hanging off his arm. “so I need to know if I’m getting paid.”

What they’d really bet on as kids were honey candies that Bad had made, which were a rare treat cause honey was hard to get safely, but Sapnap supposed that $10 was a good enough human equivalent. It had been a stupid bet, and one Sapnap was sure he’d win. The random guy from the other colony stopped to give George gifts almost daily, and not easy to come by ones, either. To this day no one was quite sure how he managed to bring flowers that were not only out of season, but not even native to the forest. Sapnap, however, had found George’s bet ridiculous. At the time he found Quackity severely irritating; he always tried to interrupt his time with George and he never shut up. And he barely knew Karl, all he knew about him was that George said he was chill, they’d rarely ever even spoken. So he took the bet. A decade later, it was biting him in the ass. Sapnap stared him down before sighing, reaching into his pocket and pulling out two $10 bills, throwing them in George’s direction. “…Sap you gave me two.” “So I did.” George stared blankly. “I only need the one if I was right.” Sapnap sighed. “Nope, you need both. You were right twice.” George’s eyes widened in understanding as Sapnap finished. “Fuck you and your ability to know what I want before even I want it.”

“What?! What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck, you- what?! You got with them, both of them?!” George practically jumped on Sapnap as he held up his braid: red, purple, and navy, worn on his left ring finger. George screamed. “Tell me everything! How long have you been together, how long have you been engaged?! You’d better not be married yet, that better not be what that means, cause i’m planning your wedding, god dammit. Oh my god, I’ve missed so much. You’d better be taking care of my brother.” George ranted, and Sapnap laughed at his excitement before freezing. Oh fuck, George’s brother. He’d been so caught up in the impossible return of his best friend that he’d forgotten, and here he was wasting time.

“Ok, this has been fun, but I think it’s time to lock everything up for the night, Dream.” Sapnap said, suddenly incredibly serious. Dream was confused, but the pleading look in Sapnap’s eyes led him to agree. It didn’t take the rest of the employees long to leave, they’d been packed up since they met George, but they couldn’t say goodbye and get out the door fast enough. George stood next to him, worry taking over his features, but Sapnap couldn’t focus on that. He’d never live with himself if his distraction caused him to lose Quackity so soon after regaining George. The only thing that broke him out of his panic was hearing the door to the store lock. “Ok, it’s just us three, what’s up-“ “Quackity is missing.” Sapnap interrupted, panic clear in his voice. Dream and George both stared at him in horror. “He went out borrowing this morning, Karl and I haven’t seen him since. Did you see him at all when you were making your rounds?” “Wait, wait,” George interrupted. “You three live here? And he knows about them?!” George said, pointing to Dream. “What happened to hiding from humans?” “I’m not human, I figured that out about half a year ago. I can change sizes like he can, like both of you can, apparently. I didn’t know you were one of us until you started talking about knowing Sapnap as a kid and I know for a fact that he grew up in a forest colony.” “You’re- you can- what?!” George yelled. “You’re not human either?!”

“Can we please stay focused!?” Sapnap yelled. “Quackity could be hurt or taken or something, I don’t know where he went and Karl and I can’t get into the security room.” “I saw him in the afternoon.” Dream added, finally. “Little before 1 o’clock, i think? He was near the back in the cleaning supply aisle. I waved and he waved back and that was that, I don’t know where he went after.” “Ok, that’s good to know. That gives us a timeframe, now we-“ “Dream.” George asked, cutting Sapnap off with an eerie calm that both other shifters could tell was going to break at the slightest nudge. “How soon after seeing him did I run off?” “Uh, not super long after, maybe 5 minutes…why?”

George’s face didn’t move, but his hands and legs started to shake, and before Sapnap or Dream could even hope to react, he was off in the opposite direction. Sapnap had no idea what could have caused a reaction like that, but chased him regardless, Dream following shortly behind. Unfortunately, George had shaken them off his trail and they had no idea where he ended up.

~~~~

Quackity prided himself on being a sound sleeper. After dealing with Sapnap on the job while he was in his stomach, he liked to think there wasn’t any amount of noise or jostling that would wake him up if he didn’t want to be awake. Hell, Sapnap once commended him for being able to sleep through a screaming match he’d had with a particularly nasty customer.

However, apparently even though he hadn’t lived in the forest for years, he still registered the attention noise as “emergency,” and woke up in a panic. Initially he forgot when he was and was about to chew his fiancé out for waking him, but the clicks were coming faster and repetitively and through tears, and Q quickly remembered where he actually was. “I’m awake, I’m awake!! Just quit it with the noise, it’s loud as hell from in here!” The noises stopped immediately, but the giant didn’t speak up. “What did you need?” Quackity asked after a few moments of silence. Another pause, then the giant answered. “Your name. I never caught your name.” “You woke me with the loud as shit alarm noise to ask for my name??” “Please, it’s important.” The giant said, voice carefully empty, though desperation seeped through. Q sighed.

“Quackity. My name is Quackity.”

Quackity’s stomach lurched as the stranger fell to the ground, heart racing and breathing coming in short bursts. He felt the giant press a hand to where he was. “…Alexis?” Quackity froze, his blood running cold. Before he could even ask how this giant knew his name, his real name, he felt the walls around him constrict as he was pulled back into the esophagus. The second he was back in the man’s mouth, he was pulled out and held up to his face. The light blinded him and he had to take a moment to wipe the spit from his eyes, but he heard the giant gasp. He mentally debated removing his mask since the wet fabric made it hard to breathe, but the idea was quickly drowned out by the instinctual fear he had of anyone other than his fiancés seeing his face uncovered. “Ok, man, how do you know-“ Quackity asked, finally getting a good look at the man. His eyes were wet with tears, and he looked at Quackity with a sense of grief, of mourning. Giant hands cupped around him like he was the most precious thing in the world. And the giant, he was…oddly familiar. Something in the stranger’s face struck a chord in him, and he found himself stunned into silence. His face was recognizable, but felt wrong, in some way. Like every detail of it was familiar, was etched carefully into his mind, but one major thing felt off. Why did he know this man’s face? Why did it feel so familiar??

The giant swiped a thumb against him, wiping some more spit off. “I…I can’t believe it’s you! I’m so sorry, Q, I had no idea at the time, I swear it.” He chuckled wetly, and Quackity searched further into his own mind. The voice was vaguely familiar if he ignored the accent, now that he thought about it. Something in his instincts screamed that he should absolutely know who this was. “I missed you. Fuck, Alex, I missed you so, so much. I’m so sorry I didn’t get to see you grow up. I wish I would have. I hope Tina and Sam took good care of you for me. From what I’ve heard, Sapnap and Karl have been taking care of you for a while now, too, haven’t they?” He laughed, still crying, still grieving. Quackity looked at him, something clicking as he talked about his- no, their family. He knew why he knew this man. He couldn’t place it earlier because he thought he was dead. He’d accepted he was dead years ago, mourned for years and years, banished the thought of him from his mind to ease the pain.

“…George…?” He barely whispered, too afraid that if he said it louder it wouldn’t be true. That he’d wake up and the visage of his giant long dead brother would be gone. He didn’t wake up. The giant just grinned and nodded, holding Quackity up and pressing him against his nose, lightly trailing his thumb down his back. “I’m here, Q. I’m here for good.” Quackity let himself be held in this awkward imitation of a hug; he didn’t sob, he didn’t scream, he just let himself cry silently as he tried to wrap his mind around everything. The last time he’d seen George…

He took a deep breath. It was a memory he’d long repressed, the mere thought of it sending him into a spiral of grief and longing that took him days to get out of. But his brother was in front of him. His brother was here. His brother was back.

No matter how much he said it, he still couldn’t truly believe it. Not yet.

He’d been in his house, in a carefully carved out hole at the base of a tree. Sapnap had just walked in, complaining about how slow George was. He and his dads were over for dinner. Karl was too; he didn’t have parents, so the families of the colony rotated taking care of him. It was Sam’s turn that night. No one knew him well, but George had been making an effort to make him feel included. Without him there, Karl awkwardly sat alone at the table, waiting. The kitchen smelled wonderful, a mix of whatever herbs and vegetables Sam could harvest wafting through the air. It was almost sunset, the sky turning a pale pink. Quackity wasn’t sure why he remembered everything from that night in so much agonizing detail. Maybe it was because it was the last night of normalcy, the last few moments of peace and comfort he’d feel for years. Maybe he wanted to hold onto how he’d felt in those moments, before his heart had been shattered and his community broken.

Sapnap had sobbed so hard that he couldn’t speak for a week after and got so dehydrated that he could barely see or walk. Tina needed to be alone and didn’t leave her room until the memorial. Karl had made himself useful where he could, comforting the others, distracting himself. Quackity didn’t see him break down over it until about a year later, after they’d grown close. Quackity had heard Sam smash things in a blind fit of rage and hurt in the moments after, though he spent the next months building and crafting for the colony to try and forgive himself by being useful to others. Bad comforted him when none of it made him feel any better. Skeppy took over Bad and Sam’s duties to the colony for while.

Quackity didn’t quite know how to mourn. The others knew that, of course, but…he was 11. Logically he knew his brother wasn’t coming back, but it slipped his mind. He’d wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare of humans and running and grieving and find himself in his brother’s now empty bedroom. He made portions of food for George at the table, and no one would move it from the empty seat. He talked with friends about how much George would love to hear what he’d done that day when he got home. No one corrected him. Permanency doesn’t make much sense to an 11 year old. At 12 or 13, you start to get it. Sapnap, after all, was only a year older than him and understood just fine. By 14, 15, 16-

Quackity is 20. Slowly but surely, he had learned that his brother wasn’t coming back.

He tried so hard to commit his brother’s face to memory. He was so young when he’d lost him. He tried desperately to etch every single minute detail into his mind so he’d never lose at least that part of George. Every detail of his face from 9 years ago stayed perfectly intact in Quackity’s mind, which may be why he hadn’t recognized him now. This George wasn’t 16 anymore, he would be 25, and he looked like it. He had bags under his eyes, creases around his mouth and forehead that hadn’t been there, and, oh yeah, every detail that he did recognize was about 100x larger than it should have been. George wasn’t a teenager, he was a grown man, and it was strange to see. He could only imagine how strange George felt seeing him as an adult when he’d barely been old enough to go borrowing last he’d seen him. He wondered if George questioned his face mask, but he wasn’t going to push that if he didn’t have to. George hadn’t been around when he’d gotten the scar that marred his face, and he’d hate for his brother’s image of him to be tainted by it.

This…was him. It was really him.

“Holy shit…” Quackity said breathlessly, not bothering to say more. What more could he say? His brother was back. Against all odds and logic, he was alive and safe and home. Quackity still wasn’t fully in his right mind when he felt himself be pulled away from the warmth and set on the ground. He had half a mind to argue it, dreading being apart from his brother after just finding him again, before he saw the giant clothes fall to the ground and a much more recognizable version of George crawl out. Apparently, he followed the Sapnap rule of “keep tiny clothes in your pocket when human in case you have to shrink.” He was so much easier to recognize like this; the version of George he used to imagine he would find one day, before reality forced him to give up hope and move on.

Quackity finally broke and ran to him, throwing himself at his brother who caught him with ease. He felt like a little kid again, when he would tackle his brother after he got home from scavenging or farming to show how much he’d missed him. He clung to him like a lifeline, and George ran one hand through his hair and hugged him with another as Q wrapped his arms around his shoulders. He let Quackity cry quietly into his shirt and just held him. “How…? How’ve you…you were…I saw…” Quackity couldn’t quite put everything into words, not when what he was feeling was so fresh. “It’s ok. Everything is ok right now.” George’s voice quivered slightly, the only thing betraying his emotions right now. He so easily slotted himself back into the older brother role that he’d been robbed of for years. “I’m here now. I can explain everything later. For now, let’s just…let’s just be here.” “You’d better,” Quackity laughed sarcastically, “explain, i mean, considering I just spent the better part of today in your stomach.” Quackity laughed more genuinely as he recieved an annoyed but light slap to the back of the head for that comment, but relented.

Quackity wasn’t sure how long they just stood like that, but eventually, he heard footsteps coming from the vents. He let go and looked up to find Sapnap tying a rope down, and Dream standing waiting for it. They made their way down as much of the rope as they could since it wasn’t long enough to hit the ground; Dream started using shelves to scale down while Sapnap basically jumped down far too quickly to be safe. “Quackity!” Sapnap yelled, throwing himself at his fiancé and pressing their faces into a rough kiss that had Quackity laughing before Sapnap even pulled away. “What the hell, man, where have you been all day?! Karl and I have been worried sick!” “Why don’t you ask him?” Quackity answered, pointing at George who had a look of absolute disbelief painting his face. Quackity was confused by his reaction for a moment before remembering that he’d missed the past few years that led to his engagement. He went to explain himself until George suddenly snapped head to look at Sapnap. “I so deserved that $20.” Sapnap punched him and Quackity couldn’t help but feel very lost. He was saved from his confusion when Dream finally hit the ground and all of George’s attention was drawn to him.

“Holy fuck, you are like me…” George whispered, eyes wide. Dream laughed, closing the distance between them. “I may or may not have been shot at. Took me a while to get used to, but i’ve been able to shift for a while now.” He explained awkwardly. George, eyes still wide with shock, nodded slowly. George started to ask Dream more questions, and Dream explained how he’d learned about borrowers and their culture, and told George that Tommy was a shifter, too. Sapnap slipped himself right next to Quackity, interlocking their fingers and squeezing his hand tight, not seeming to mind how thoroughly soaked in spit Quackity still was. “So…your brother.” Sapnap whispered, and Quackity chuckled quietly. “My brother. This is…so damn weird. I really thought-“ “yeah.” Sapnap interrupted him, voice choked up. Quackity had a feeling he didn’t want to hear it any more than he himself wanted to admit it out loud. “But here he is…” Quackity trailed off. Sapnap didn’t try to continue the thought. They had nothing more to say. The two stood, hands interlocked, content to watch as Dream and Georges’ serious conversation turned to playful bickering.

“Hey,” Quackity started, squeezing Sapnap’s hand just a little tighter to get his attention. “does Karl know yet?”

~~~~

“I’m going to kill those fuckers when they get back here.” Karl muttered to himself, pacing the floors of his living room. ‘if they get back here,’ his mind supplied unhelpfully. He had parted ways with Sapnap almost 2 hours ago, and had been texting him nonstop. Nothing. He’d gone back out to look for him; after all, he was human size, how hard could he be to find? Hard, apparently, cause the man was fucking nowhere. Now both of his fiancés were missing. Awesome, perfect, how could this day get any better?

As if on que, he heard footsteps echoing through the carved tunnels of the home. About 4 distinct sets, if he was hearing right. Good. He didn’t know that many borrowers, and even fewer knew their way through the walls of the store, so two of them had to be Quackity and Sapnap. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders at the realization that they were alright. The others he assumed were Dream and Tommy, since it wasn’t too out of the ordinary for them to show up unannounced and stay the night. Karl just hoped they wouldn’t mind listening to him chew his fiancés out for making him worry so much.

Karl took a few deep breaths, preparing himself to not yell at the two for stressing him out for hours. Just kindly scold a bit, that’s all. It just so happened that in his pacing, his back was facing the door when he heard the first step into the room, followed by the rest of the group. He took a deep breath in.

“Sapnap, Quackity. You had better have a good fucking reason for not telling me where you were or I swear to god-“ Karl started, swiveling to face whichever of his fiancés had been unfortunate enough to walk in first only for all of his air to leave him at once.

Sapnap, Quackity, and Dream stood near the entrance, a good few inches behind the man face to face with Karl. Karl couldn’t breathe. He actually couldn’t fucking breathe. The man was a good bit shorter than him, with dark curly hair and a light spattering of freckles. He looked up at Karl with tears in his mismatched eyes, eyes Karl never thought he’d see again.

“Hi, Karl.”

He wasn’t exactly sure what happened. One second, he was looking at a living ghost. The next? There were four people surrounding him, he was facing the ceiling, and his head fucking hurt.

“…ow would I have known?!” “Is this normal, has he fainted before?” “No!” “Shit, fuck, did he hit his head?” “I think so, do you guys have an ice pack?” “We live in the walls, Dream, how the fuck would we have ice.” “Shut up, shut up, he’s waking up!”

Karl sat up half on his own and half with the help of who he could only assume were Quackity and Sapnap. “God dammit, my head hurts.” Karl whined, the black still leaving the corners of his eyes and his vision clearing painfully slowly. “Nice goin’ George, you concussed him.” “Fuck off, Sapnap, no I didn’t…did I?” Karl vaguely saw a green shape move closer. Dream then. He felt his eyes be pried opened, then shut again. “His pupils are normal, he’ll be fine.” “Oh thank god.” The british voice responded. It was the only voice Karl couldn’t immediately recognize, though it sounded familiar in its own right.

He finally opened his eyes the rest of the way to see the same dark haired man sitting in front of him, face plastered with worry. “…Karl? You ok?”

Karl sat in silence for a minute, face carefully blank, the calm before a storm. “…am I ok?” Karl asked quietly, volume growing quickly, “am I ok? am I ok?! Holy fuck, George!!” Karl practically screamed, throwing himself at the man in front of him and squeezing him in as tight of a hug as he could manage. “I’m not the one who’s been missing in action for 9 goddamn years, what do you mean ‘am I ok,’ fuck off, holy shit.” he laughed, tears pouring down his face. “What the fuck, what the fuck…” he muttered, unable to hide his smile as he cried. “I missed you, too.” George whispered, clinging onto Karl.

Karl let go of the hug, still keeping a grip on both of George’s shoulders as he turned to his fiancés. “How did you…?” “He just showed up.” Sapnap shrugged at the same time Quackity said “He kidnapped me.” Both of the fiancés turned to him. “He’s a shifter and I’m sopping wet. Put the pieces together.” Karl and Sapnap turned back to George, who was red in the face and refusing to make eye contact with anyone in the room. “Wait you’re a- nevermind.” Karl shook his head, “I don’t care, not right now. I couldn’t give less of a fuck about the who, when, where, how, or the why. I just care that you’re here. We can iron out the rest of that later.” “Sounds good.” George muttered, eyes locked firmly with the ground. “Dude, we do it too. You have no reason to be embarrassed.” Sapnap tried to comfort, gesturing to Dream and himself, but George just sputtered something that could have been an attempt at words before giving up and burying his face in his hands. “Give him a break,” Quackity intervened, “it was his first time storing someone he’d see again after, now he’s gotta live with the fact I know what his stomach looks like. Plus it was his first time eating a borrower and it happened to be his brother, he’s gonna be weird about it.” Quackity half explained half teased. George flipped him off with both hands without uncovering his face. “Fuck you, I’m keeping your bag.” he muttered, his voice muffled behind his hands. Quackity shot back some obscenity before Sapnap quickly pulled him into a different room to put on clothes that weren’t soggy.

“Why are you here then? No offense.” Karl asked Dream. “I fuckin’ brought him here! He moved here to move in with me, we’ve been dating online for like 5 years. I had no idea he knew any of you or was even a borrower until I ‘introduced’ him to Sapnap.” “Wait, you’ve been what?!” Karl dramatically turned back to George. “You’re dating Dream?!” “Mhm.” George confirmed, finally lowering his hands from his face. “Had no idea he was a…what’d Q call me, a shifter? Absolutely never would have guessed he’d be the one to reunite me with all of you.” “I’m planning your wedding.” Karl said, a tone of finality to his voice. “You can plan my wedding if I can plan yours.” George smirked, eyes darting to the braid around Karl’s ankle. Karl’s face went red hot in a matter of seconds. “So you-“ “Know that you’ve been dating my brother and best friend for god knows how long? Yes. I was betting on it, even. Sapnap gave me $20.” “Ok cool,” Karl sighed, “cause I wasn’t positive what kind of reaction you’d have to the idea that your brother and I have ha-“ “And that’s where that sentence can end!!” George shouted, shoving both of his hands over Karl’s mouth. “No more!! You keep that to yourself!” Dream snorted and Karl cackled from behind George’s hands.

“What did he say?” Quackity asked, re-entering the room with Sapnap, both in their pjs and Quackity with a new less wet and suffocating face mask on. “Nothing I wanted to hear.” George said in lieu of an answer, removing his hands from Karl’s mouth and wiping the spit off them. “Wanna spend the night? You guys can borrow some clothes to sleep in.” Sapnap asked, looking to George more than Dream. George glanced back to Dream. “…I need to move the stuff I brought from England into Dream’s house. Plus, the U-Haul arrives tomorrow morning and I really should meet Tommy in person.” George’s voice was sad, and only got sadder as the looks on the faces of his family dropped. They all sat silently, none of the borrowers making a move to argue and neither Dream nor George moving to leave. “…we can do it tomorrow.” Dream said finally. “If we leave here by like 7:30 we can make it to the house before the U-Haul gets there. Plus Tommy, Ranboo, Foolish, and Puffy will be helping us bring your stuff in, so it won’t take that much longer if we don’t start it now. And Tommy loves any chance he can get to drag Ranboo over for a solo sleepover night. You’ll be living with him, you’ll get plenty of chances to get to know him.” “Really?” “Of course really, you shouldn’t have to be pulled away from your long lost family to deal with a U-Haul.”

The borrowers collectively cheered, Karl going to drag more pillows and blankets into the bedroom area, Sapnap grabbing clothes he thought would fit them, and Dream shooting a quick text to Tommy that said he wouldn’t be home that night before joining Quackity in showing George around the rest of the “house.” Dream just watched George’s face. What? He’d only met him in person about a day ago, he was allowed to admire how lucky he’d gotten in the boyfriend department, the man was gorgeous. All of George’s attention was on Quackity. He’d never seen so much unbridled joy on someone’s face. He kind of looked like he was on the verge of tears, but to be fair, he’d looked like that all day. Like he was grieving. Dream couldn’t blame him. If he’d been separated from Foolish for as long as George had been separated from Quackity, he’s sure he’d feel the exact same way.

It didn’t take long for all of them to settle together. Dream had been taught a long time ago that that was just an outdoor borrower thing; they only had whatever insulation existed in the forest for their homes, so they conserved whatever heat they could by sleeping in a pile. Despite the store being heated, Dream supposed old habits died hard. Or maybe they just didn’t want to be apart again so soon, even to sleep.

George was in the middle, arm tightly around Quackity with his hand holding Karl’s, who himself was curled around his fiancé. On his other side, Sapnap leaned into him, George’s arm firmly locked in his. All of them were either half asleep or fully dead to the world, eyes closed and peaceful. They made a pretty picture; they looked like a family. Dream moved to separate himself from them, not wanting to interrupt their moment, before being yanked back down by both his wrist and his leg and falling into the pile. “And where do you think you’re going?” George mumbled sleepily, and Dream registered that it was his tail that has yanked his leg (he was going to have to get used to the idea that his partner had a tail, why was no one in his life human anymore) while it was Sapnap’s hand that was firmly grasped around his wrist. “I- I just didn’t think I shou-“ “Shut the fuck up,” Sapnap mumbled, freeing his wrist and groggily smacking Dream in the face. “Just.. shut the fuck up and sleep. It’s been such. a fucking day. Just sleep.” George hummed in agreement, obviously barely clinging to consciously, pulling Dream closer to him with his tail. Dream took the hint and wrapped his arms around George, who didn’t have any hands to spare. He sighed, resting his head against his boyfriend’s collarbone and hearing a faint purr. Right, borrower. He’d need to remember that.

He couldn’t quite be sure what the future held, especially now. First he wasn’t human, then his ward wasn’t human, and now his boyfriend isn’t human and also happens to be a missing family member/friend to a bunch of his friends, who also aren’t human. Tomorrow, he’d drag George out to their home and unload a U-haul with help from his mom and brother and Tommy’s best friend. Tomorrow, George would meet Tommy (and Tubbo, once Puffy and Foolish left). Tomorrow, George would get a tour of his new home and town, the parts he hadn’t seen growing up as a borrower. Somewhere down the line Dream would have to tell his family that he wasn’t a human, that no one in his house was a human, and he knew that somewhere down the line he’d help reunite George with the rest of the people he was taken from. But for now, everything was alright. Right now, for the first time ever, he held his boyfriend in his arms after 5 years of falling asleep on the phone together. Right now, for the first time in almost a decade, a man reunited with his brother and two best friends. And for right now, that would be enough.

[goldensunset]

ugh

[snailsweater]

I think VegasKim works because Kim looking at Vegas is Kim looking at a slightly distorted mirror. Kim would be Vegas if Gun was his father, they are very similar in their nature. In a universe where Gun and Korn are not unhinged, I can imagine Vegas chilling in Kim's apartment, reading a book while Kim is working on a song, they enjoy art, they enjoy spoiling and protecting the people they love, they enjoy physical pursuits, and both are good at combat. They both are ruled by their emotions even though they try to come off as cold and calculated. And I think it's the same for Vegas, Kinn is his competition, but Kim is like a parallel universe version of him, and I think while Vegas could be jealous that Kim has more than he does, he can see past that and knows that Kim is just as caged that he is. I really wish people wrote more Vegas and Kim stuff (romantic or not).

Anon. Anon, wait a friggn second, hold up. You are a fucking genius, holy, oh my, I am loosing my goddamn mind!

It makes total sense!

And you also filled my heart and brain with the picture of a cozy, homey Vegas chilling with Kim….

Vegas turns the page, lost in thought by the familiar motion and the sounds of Kim's guitar playing in the background. He feels how the notes link into his noisy thoughts, silencing the strain and the constant racing of the deeply rooted rules and expectations. It allows him to be.

Kim closes his eyes, his fingers pressing over the strings of the guitar in a melody he doesn't yet know, running up and down the slender fingerboard as he fills the silence with more and more new sounds. Peace. Silence, yet full of life. His foot begins to tap to the rhythm. His heartbeat echoes inside. Power. Strength dancing along his nerves and muscles. He transfers the beat to his leg until his knee follows and he begins to drum his knuckles against the body between each note.

It's a melody, new and appealing. It reaches for his mind, weaving new life around images and memories.

Vegas's fingers make his knife dance beside the book on his lap. A silver twirl that slowly descends until the tip of the knife taps against the cover of the book in time with the beat. Irregular, smudged lines play around the end where the blade sinks into the handle. His head falls back on his neck, a grin, teeth bared, eyes glinting. Kim's gaze meets his across the room.

"Dum-deu-dum-dum…"

The impact takes his breath away. The back of his head slams into the stone, sending his mind into zero gravity. A mad, delirious laugh bursts from Kim's lips. The hand on his neck is fleshy and rough. The fingers clawing behind his larynx, blunt and clumsy.

For a moment, he lets his hands hang beside his body. A second in which his opponent thinks he has the upper hand. Then that head smashes to the side, expodes in front of Kim's eyes before he closes them. Blood rains down, soaking his clothes and hair.

"You're getting sloppy, Nong." The title was tinged with mockery. Vegas lunges again with the scantling and rams the end into the stomach of his closest opponent. He goes down, mouth open but unable to scream.

No hand is held out to Kim. Instead, fingers claw into his shoulder and yank him up. Again, his back hits the wall, stone hitting bruises and abrasions.

"Nong."

Vegas. A piercing look in his eyes, hair wet from the rain, silk shirt rumpled. The scantling rests on his shoulder. The slipped collar exposes a clavicle where the dark shadow of a welt blooms.

The silence in response makes him change his posture. His stance becomes wider, his body more tense. His eyes begin to calculate the remaining opponents. Who all would he be able to take out….

"Feels like you're lucid dreaming." Vegas growls and shakes his head. His hand on the scantling tightens, the former trash becoming a deadly weapon in his hands.

His other hand grips Kim's shoulder, whose laughter slowly dies away. The grin remains as his fingers falteringly tap against Vegas' tense stomach.

"That day will never come." Kim pushes him aside with a jerk. His hand closes around the knife on his belt. Adrenaline surges through his veins and legs. Three steps in a sprint and he jumps.

The impact of his weight yanks his attacker off his feet and the knife him out of existence.

Vegas drags him back to his feet from a crouch before his low position would be his undoing. Stumbling, Kim staggers to his side. Their shoulders meet and his head jerks up. They're not done yet.

The movements come automatically. Their bodies remember before their minds do. Seamlessly, they slide back to back. Kim, knife in hand, the other clenched into a fist and raised to eye level, body centered. Vegas, eyes locked on his attackers, cracks his neck.

"Don't disappoint me now Nong." A hiss over his shoulder. He doesn't turn around. The blind spot doesn't exist, because inside it waits Kim.

"Watch out…" the younger man warns quietly, lips raised in a smile. "I'm going to steal your show."

Vegas laughs as he twirls the two-by-four. Blood drips onto the street. And soon it would fill the puddles and soak the pavement.

"Dum-deu-dum-dum-dum…"

Kim's fingers continue to dance across the pages, bringing the sleeping instrument to life and filling the room with a new warmth.

He senses a hunch, an inspiration coming within reach, but he can't separate himself from the sounds just yet. Only a few chords later does he let the last note die away and reach for his notebook.

Vegas watches the gleam of his now-clean blade in the dim light of the apartment.

"Next time, you keep your hands off my stuff and use your own, got it?" The sentence has no real anger behind it, but the warning is clear. Kim smiles. The movement tears at his open lip. Blood seeps onto his tongue. "Not everyone is happy with a weapon made out of fucking trash."

Vegas snorts, the knife dropping to the empty cushion beside him. He turns his head and lowers his eyes back to his book, the weight of the pages familiar and soft in his now clean hands.

"You should be creative Nong." He turns the page. There's a rustle, accompanied by Kim's pen scratching on music paper, capturing the inspiration he's just gained.

"Why would I?" Kim's answer is casual, his mind already lost between words and lyrics to the new song. His fingers tap the music sheets in sync with the beat.

"When it comes down to it, I'll just grab your stuff again."

Vegas growls something unintelligible, but the smile on his lips betrays him.

The apartment sinks into silence once again, interrupted only by the occasional flipping of book pages and fingers drumming on the table.

[madamechrissy]

Fratboy! Sukuna

Pairings - Fratboy! Sukuna x Nerdy Brat! reader (my pairings are so extra LMAO)

Warnings - college AU, public play, fingering, oral ( f and m recieving) cum swallowing, rough sex, size kink, ass smacking, hair pulling, teasing, drinking, weed smoking, reader AND Kuna talking shit, Kuna whimpering, overall silly ass hcs with smut (this was a request for Kuna from Took you Like a Shot)

I should be working on my wips but instead have over 3k words of Sukuna smut <3 Now back to those lol!!

Fratboy! Sukuna was the king of this damn college, everyone knew him, whether it was as a friend, a hook up, crush or a rival. Running the frat with Suguru and Satoru, the three of them constantly had parties, and Sukuna was the best out of the three at beer pong by far. He's never lost a match in the three years of college, not once. So when he sees a nerdy little thing challenge him - a girl he's only seen with her head in a book passing by and maybe thought how pretty she was but - he scoffs, looking down at her. At you.

Fratboy! Sukuna has his crowd around him, so many girls fawn over him, one has his beer in her hand and gives him sip, one has his blunt lit, giving him hits. Another is holding his water bottle, all while he's in a ridiculous toga, that shows far too much of his toned, tatted physique. You try to ignore it as you adjust your own outfit, feeling ridiculous in it, but Sukuna couldn't stop thinking of how good that white dress looked on your skin, glinting under the lights. Dumb shit he shouldn't be thinking while high off his ass and lit, but it's there. 'What ya waiting for, brat, hmm? Scared I'll win?' He asks then across the table, with a big grin, and you glare up at him. 'No way, you'll see, it's all about math'

Fratboy! Sukuna bursts into laughter, and you itch to smack his arguably far too handsome face, while his girls all giggle around him. But Satoru comes over, murmuring in your ear then - 'he thinks you're hot, use it to your advantage' you gasp, looking at the white haired leader of the frat then. 'No way!?' He just smirks, and Sukuna scowls at you across the long beer pong table now. You sigh, there is so much Axe body spray and love spell, cigarette smoke and stale beer in the air, it's nice to inhale whatever fancy cologne Satoru wears for a moment. 'Distract him, pookie' you laugh softly, unbelieving when he runs back over to Sukuna, who bounces a ball right in your first cup.

Fratboy! Sukuna has said you're pretty many times but he didn't need Satoru to rat him out, he doesn't want to admit that he's shy around you. He's not shy around anyone, you're just an outlier, an annoyance really, leaning forward now and showing far too much of your pretty breasts in that dress, sinking a ball right into his cup then. Sukuna's cock starts throbbing from the look in your pretty eyes behind those glasses. 'Beginners luck, tch' he grumbles, you giggle a bit, sipping on your drink. 'Oh yeah? We'll see huh?' and you proceed to annihilate his ass at at, a girl taking down the 'big, bad Sukuna' like it's fucking nothing, making him angrier with every bounce.

Fratboy! Sukuna glares daggers at you across the crowded party, which many have gathered to watch the downfall of him, you have two of his cups left and he's only gotten one of yours, torn between wanting to fuck you right on this table and wanting to show you up for your little attitude. His red eyes glint then, he's so focused on how you look he's fucking up every throw, and now his friends are all making fun of him while you have the audacity to giggle. When you sink the last ball in, two boys from the frat lift you up on their shoulders, and you giggle, arms up in the air while he pouts, crossing his arms and looking away. 'She beat your ass bro-' Sukuna shoots a death glare at Suguru now, who's too high to care, laughing so hard he's almost snorting a long with Satoru. 'Oh fuck both of you. I'm just... off tonight or something'

Fratboy! Sukuna watches as you beat everyone at fucking beer pong, it's actually stupid how good you are. He ends up standing next to you, smoking on his blunt as he watches your technique, so close he can inhale whatever sweet scent you wear, filling his nostrils then and making his mouth itch to taste you. Do you taste as good as you smell? You look back then, lips parted as he's sniffing your neck without noticing what he's doing. 'Are you sniffing me, Sukuna?' he glares now, standing up and shaking his head. 'Tch, you wish, I just... y'know, I wanna make a bet with you' he can't admit that he absolutely was just sniffing you, no way. Your eyes light up the challenge. 'Oh, what bet?' you ask, tilting your head now, when he leans low, a hand brushing across your waist over thin cheap costume fabric, it's nothing to prevent his big hand from burning your skin.

Fratboy! Sukuna feels you trembling as he stands behind you now, his hard body against your back, and you try to focus, but he's fucking up your senses far more than any sips of beer you've had. 'I bet you can't stay quiet with my fingers in you. Ah, you nervous now, brat?' his whisper against your ear makes your cunt clench and throb with need, you look back at him with wide eyes, while he smirks at you, raising a thick brow, while his full lips are far too close. 'Oh yeah, what do I win if I can?' your ask shocks him, he assumed you'd be more... shy, but your challenge is all over your face, and you feel his hardness pressing against your back now, he wonders if you feel the precum leaking at the thought of touching you, pressing harder, your hands gripping the flimsy pong table. 'If you win, I'll drink that pussy up and have you cum all over my face,' you jerk when he touches you secretly, as if he's just hugging on you, but he's teasing your clit already, whispering - 'and if you win?'

Fratboy! Sukuna chuckles, pink locks falling just so over his arrogant brow, big ass grin with his straight white teeth glinting as he looks down at you. 'If I win, well...' he's whispering in your ear, making you tremble now, while you land another winning shot, and his typical girls look over jealously at the two of you, but he completely ignores them. 'You'll suck me till I cum, and you'll have to grind on my leg all fucking pathetic' you glare now at him, teeth clenching while he slips a finger under the slit of your gown, hidden firmly by your dress and the table. 'You're so arrogant, you wish I would. I'd make you whimper like a little bitch' Sukuna scowls deep now, at your fucking arrogance, but also... how dare you have done that to anyone but him!? The thought pisses him off irrationally. Makes him want to make sure your cunt remembers his shape and no one else's. 'Think you're so good at it, brat? Tch, we'll see.' You smile now, too pretty for him to focus, shaking your head. 'No, we'll see if you're any good at eating pussy'

Fratboy! Sukuna has clearly had you pegged all wrong, thinking you're some cute innocent thing when you have a mouth like that, wracking him with images of you on your knees, lips wrapped around his tip, when he finds you under your panties. He hardly holds back his moan, feeling your slick cunt pouring against his fingers. 'If you make noise, don't you lose?' you whisper, he smirks at you then, finding your clit and watching your eyes flutter shut, feeling her twitch under his fingertips. 'Focus on that game huh? before you lose' you clench your teeth again, hips shifting as wetness pours out, Sukuna casually sips his beer as if he's not rolling perfect patterns on your little twitchy clit, and you throw another ball as if you're not dying to grind against that hard cock pressing insistently.

Fratboy! Sukuna has met his match at beer pong, but he hears your soft whimper when he teases a kiss on your bare shoulder, running his fingers up and down your slit, and that sharp intake of breath as he feels your tight cunt gripping as he slides a thick digit in. 'You doin' okay, brat? so fuckin wet from some touches?' you glare again but it's interrupted by the squelching sound of your wetness in both of your ears and your gasp, which you bite back before shaking your head. 'I'm good' is all you manage, hearing his chuckle, when he inserts another finger, stretching you out. You thank God for loud ass music and laughter, or you swear your cunt was so loud people would hear. 'greedy cunt, she wants more, huh?' you say nothing, focusing on the cups, missing your ball then, frustrated and overheated, Sukuna watches the blush dance on your cheeks as his fingers curl up in your soppy little hole. 'Aw, poor baby is fucking up her shots'

Fratboy! Sukuna would love to lose to you, to bury his face in the soaking cunt drooling down his fingers, but part of him also wants to win because he always does, and fucking that bratty mouth just makes his cock twitch against his toga. He's lost in how tight you are, your little wiggles and gasps as he holds you against him, fingers hitting that spongy spot while he leans over, an arm braced on the table, the asshole actually holds conversations, grinning while you're about to cum. You try to hold back, cunt pulsing now, vision blurred by how good they feel, thighs trembling as slick pours down your inner thighs now, making it slippery and messy, gulping down a bottle of water and almost choking while he thumbs your clit at the same time, leaning close. 'How ya doing, beer pong champion?' his mocking tone should infuriate you, but all you wanna do is cum, and it's like he knows, but you swallow it down, smiling. 'I'm great!'

Fratboy! Sukuna god his jaw just drops when you win that tournament, not making barely a noise despite how wet you are, how jerky your hips are moving, you swallow that water and smile victoriously when he sighs, removing his fingers, leaving your cunt aching. 'Fuck, guess I might as well see what I'm in for' he murmurs, dejected at losing, he never loses, and he pulled out all the stops on that cunt. He takes his fingers then, sucking you off him casually, cheeks hollowing, making your tummy flip as he does, when his eyes flutter shut and he moans as he tastes you, it all feels too real then. All the shit talking didn't prepare you for how sexy he would look, what that action would do to your body and mind. His red eyes are so dilated they look fucking black when he grips your wrist now, leaning low - 'you won, brat, let's go, now'

Fratboy! Sukuna drags you behind him unceremoniously to his room then, and instead of kissing you or letting you touch him, he immediately locks the door, getting on his knees in front of you, a hot open mouthed kiss on your thigh as it trembles. 'Sukuna, just because you won doesn't mean you have to... I can- ah!' he's already eyeing your soaking wet cunt, so drenched your panties are sticking to you, the outline apparent, his breath on your inner thigh making matter worse. 'A bet is a bet, but I'd be eating you even if you won' he curses under his breath at the vulnerable statement, but you ease against his door then, relaxing, and brushing silky pink locks back. 'You would?' he just scoffs now, attitude back, glaring as he slips your panties off, you eye a collection of them then on his dresser and glare. 'You're not keeping them!' he chuckles now, nipping your inner thigh. 'will you just shut up and...' he laps at your cunt now, earning you banging your head against the door as you hiss, hips bucking. 'Can't even take one lick, huh?'

Fratboy! Sukuna talks a lot of shit to cover up the fact that you have the prettiest pussy he's seen, in fact he doesn't think anything will compare to it now, the taste sweet like your scent - no, sweeter - if he was a little bitch maybe he'd write some dumb poem about that flavor, but instead all you get is a husky - fuck - while he devours your soppy little cunt now, teasing and flicking your clit until he latches his mouth. 'mnh! oh my God, I... ngh!' you're reduced to nothing while he worships you on his knees, dressed like some goddess and he's sipping the finest nectar, red eyes darting up while you tug at his locks, hurting his scalp and making him harder while you do. 'Sukuna, m'close! fuck...' him edging you early didn't help matters, he just grins against you, wicked tongue flicking just so, teeth nipping your clit until you shatter for him, orgasm rocking your body until you can't see, gushing arousal down this man's face, and he drinks it all up too.

Fratboy! Sukuna almost cums licking you, finally pulling back and standing, hovering so tall over you, you almost fall so he wraps and arm around your waist. 'No talking shit, huh? where's all that attitude, brat?' you just yank him down by the golden leaf on his toga, whispering - 'shut up, Sukuna' and kiss him, tasting your arousal on his lips, before shoving him on his bed now, earning a shocked look on the huge man's face. Sukuna lifts and lifts heavy, and you're literally tiny and nothing in comparison - he plays football, he's an athlete, but he's weak kneed from you, helpless and irritated about it. You straddle him, your glasses fogging up from your kisses, and he grips your hips, hands shaking as he slips up your dress, and you reveal him, flushing. 'No boxers, you're so slutty, Sukuna' your words end him, he whimpers when you touch his tip with your finger, already leaking precum, you lap it off your thumb- and that's when he really knows he had you wrong. You're a little fucking freak, smiling down at him, cunt leaking down against his thick muscled thighs. 'You're yummy too - ah!'

Fratboy! Sukuna scowls at your audacity, lifting you up by your hips, as you view all of his huge, veiny cock, so big you know you can't take it, no guy is even close that you've been with, but you sure will fucking try. You figure he'll ease you on it, as he holds you up in the damn air and you flail, before he slides you all the way down his length in one stroke and you scream out. He groans as he feels it, smirking up at you under sooty pink lashes, watching your eyes roll back, your hips wiggle in his firm hold. 'Can't take it, brat?' he taunts, lifting and dragging you down that veiny length again, and you try to scowl back, but fail, moaning. 'I can, I can fuck give me a minute... monster cock what the f-fuck...' he's chuckling with delight, but you're clenching again, just making him moan himself, as he starts fucking up into your cunt, and it burns- the fucking stretch so intense you feel like he's splitting you in half, but you want it, fuck you want it - him slamming that cervix over and over.

Fratboy! Sukuna almost busts quick, stopping then, flipping you over until you're on your hands and knees, wrapping your hair around his first and sliding his cock back in, watching how small your cunt is compared to it. 'Making it disappear, such a good little slut for me, aren't you?' he's talking shit you'd never deal with but you like it from him, damn him. He's splitting you apart with every thrust, watching the creamy ring form at the base while both of your costumes barely hang on, he's scrunching it up your hips, smacking the fuck out of you as he pulls your hair so hard, and you just whine out - 'more, fuck, please more' and Sukuna gives it to you. He fucks you until you're drooling, heavy balls smacking that clit and making you cum, milking him already as your gummy walls grip and spasm, he smacks you again, watching his hand print form and groaning. 'you're so sweet like this, this what you wanted?'

Fratboy! Sukuna expects you to argue but you're too far gone, fucked from one orgasm into another, the smacks of skin loud in his room, while you grip his sheets and he presses your head down, fucking harder and harder, so hard you don't know if you can take it, you have to take off your glasses and shove them aside, burying your face against his bed. His cock fills you so good it's unbearable, all you can do is cry out into his bed while he's whispering utter filth - 'made f'me, isn't she?' you just nod weakly at it. 'Perfect cunt, aw you can't talk now, brat huh?' you just whine out, there was clearly a way to make you less competitive and that was getting railed in a frat house by Sukuna.

Fratboy! Sukuna barely pulls out in time, crying out and whining again as he cums, jerking his cock while you catch your breath, you struggle to get up, cunt fucking aching, turning to watch him. With his clean hand he hands you your glasses, as you slip them on and watch cum still oozing out of the hole of his reddened tip, so much cum. Your thighs quiver as you eye him now, as the two of you just sit there in the quiet for a moment, then you shock him, shoving him on his back again, breasts spilling and making him twitch with more need. 'Let me clean you up, Sukuna, it's the least I can do. Made you make all that noise, didn't I?' He glares at you, but once you're sucking all that cum off him with an expert tongue, and sliding him deep down your throat, until he's licked clean, he's gotta admit - you really were better at everything than him.

I love this man lol

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[physalian]

How To Make Your Writing Less Stiff 5

Movement

Dredging this back up from way back.

Make sure your characters move, but not too much during heavy dialogue scenes. E.g. two characters sitting and talking—do humans just stare at each other with their arms lifeless and bodies utterly motionless during conversation? No? Then neither should your characters. Make them…

Gesture

Wave

Frown

Laugh

Cross their legs/their arms

Shift around to get comfortable

Pound the table

Roll their eyes

Point

Shrug

Touch their face/their hair

Wring their hands

Pick at their nails

Yawn

Stretch

Sniff/sniffle

Tap their fingers/drum

Bounce their feet

Doodle

Fiddle with buttons or jewelry

Scratch an itch

Touch their weapons/gadgets/phones

Check the time

Get up and sit back down

Move from chair to tabletop

The list goes on.

Bonus points if these are tics that serve to develop your character, like a nervous fiddler, or if one moves a lot and the other doesn’t—what does that say about the both of them? This is where “show don’t tell” really comes into play.

As in, you could say “he’s nervous” or you could show, “He fidgets, constantly glancing at the clock as sweat beads at his temples.”

This site is full of discourse on telling vs showing so I’ll leave it at that.

Epithets

In the Sci-fi WIP that shall never see the light of day, I had a flashback arc for one male character and his relationship with another male character. On top of that, the flashback character was a nameless narrator for Reasons.

Enter the problem: How would you keep track of two male characters, one who you can't name, and the other who does have a name, but you can’t oversaturate the narrative with it? I did a few things.

Nameless Narrator (written in 3rd person limited POV) was the only narrator for the flashback arc. I never switched to the boyfriend’s POV.

Boyfriend had only a couple epithets that could only apply to him, and halfway through their relationship, NN went from describing him as “the other prisoner” to “his cellmate” to “his partner” (which was also a double entendre). NN also switched from using BF’s full name to a nickname both in narration and dialogue.

BF had a title for NN that he used exclusively in dialogue, since BF couldn’t use his given name and NN hadn’t picked a new one for himself.

Every time the subject of the narrative switched, I started a new paragraph so “he” never described either character ambiguously mid-paragraph.

Is this an extreme example? Absolutely, but I pulled it off according to my betas.

The point of all this is this: Epithets shouldn’t just exist to substitute an overused name. Epithets de-personalize the subject if you use them incorrectly. If your narrator is thinking of their lover and describing that person without their name, then the trait they pick to focus on should be something equally important to them. In contrast, if you want to drive home how little a narrator thinks of somebody, using depersonalizing epithets helps sell that disrespect.

Fanfic tends to be the most egregious with soulless epithets like "the black-haired boy" that tell the reader absolutely nothing about how the narrator feels about that black-haired boy, espeically if they're doing so during a highly-emotional moment.

As in, NN and BF had one implied sex scene. Had I said “the other prisoner” that would have completely ruined the mood. He’s so much more than “the other prisoner” at that point in the story. “His partner,” since they were both a combat team and romantically involved, encompassed their entire relationship.

The epithet also changed depending on what mood or how hopeless NN saw their situation. He’d wax and wane over how close he believed them to be for Reasons. NN was a very reserved character who kept BF at a distance, afraid to go “all in” because he knew there was a high chance of BF not surviving this campaign. So NN never used “his lover”.

All to say, epithets carried the subtext of that flashback arc, when I had a character who would not talk about his feelings. I could show you the progression of their relationship through how the epithets changed.

I could show you whenever NN was being a big fat liar about his feelings when he said he's not in love, but his narration gave him away. I could show you the exact moment their relationship shifted from comrades to something more when NN switched mid-paragraph from "his cellmate" to "his partner" and when he took up BF's nickame exclusively in the same scene.

I do the same thing in Eternal Night when Elias, my protagonist, stops referring to Dorian as "it" and "the vampire" instead of his name the moment they collide with a much more dangerous vampire, so jarringly that Elias notices in his own narration—the point of it being so explicit is that this degredation isn't automatic, it's something he has to conciously do, when everyone else in his clan wouldn't think twice about dehumanizing them.

—

Any literary device should be used with intent if you want those layers in your work. The curtains are rarely just blue. Whether it’s a simile with a deliberate comparison or an epithet with deliberate connotations, your readers will pick up on the subtext, I promise.

[faeyun]

ˋ 𑁍 ⨾ HALF-SMOKED CIGARETTES

the last thing you were expecting when taking a smoke outside was to see someone trying to sneakily cut flowers off your mom’s bushes in the front of your house in the middle of the night—nor were you expecting to become so enamored by him, either. and it seemed that the feeling was completely mutual.

❛ 이희승 𝑥 𝑓!reader ❜ 𓈒𓈒 ❨ 歌 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ❩ 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖾𝖿 ＆ 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝖻𝗈!𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝖻𝖺𝗀!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 (𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋), 𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 ＆ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, ✴︎ 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 ／ 𝘤𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷, 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩!𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 (𝘮. 𝘳𝘦𝘤), 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘺𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 (𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢), 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘦, 𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 (𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺), 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘶𝘮𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴, 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬!𝘩𝘦𝘦, 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘺, 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘶𝘱, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𓏸 1O,OOO ╱ 𝓶. list

( 𝓷 )。 a month and a half, a new username, and a new theme later… i am back!!! hello my lovelies, i hope you been well!! (>人<)♡ enjoy this lil fic while i work on some of my bigger wips! lowkey, i don’t like this one that much, but we prevail ... kisses mwah!! ♡♡

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏͏ REBLOGS ◜◡◝ FEEDBACK APPRECIATED!

The cold night air bit at your skin through the thin cardigan you had thrown on minutes prior. It didn’t help that the only thing you had on underneath it was a simple tank top. You curled more into the cushions of the wooden porch swing you sat on, but it gave you no more warmth. Sighing at yourself, you let the smoke curl out from your nose and fill the air around your face. The least you could’ve done before creeping out of the house was put on something warmer than the—also—thin shorts you wore.

It was a rather quiet night, the only other noise coming from the slight wind that picked up here and there and the sound of you taking another drag of the burning cigarette between your fingers. The blackness of the night draped over you like a blanket, giving you slight comfort at the thought of sitting outside alone. Taking another drag of the cigarette, you were pulled out of your thoughts by the soft sounds of grass under the soles of shoes.

Your head turned towards the sound. A blur of black and denim passed in front of you and stopped in front of the beautiful arrangement of hydrangeas and azaleas your Mom had planted in front of your house. You froze in your spot on the porch swing, your cigarette halfway to your parted lips. Heart thumping in your chest, you forced yourself to take a deep inhale of the cool spring air and calm your nerves. 

Little by little, you stood from the porch swing and tried your best for it not to creak as you moved across the porch silently in your mismatched slippers. The blurry figure came more in view as you rounded the column, and if you weren’t so shaken you would’ve laughed.

You let the smoke spiral from the cigarette as you watched some guy cut flowers from the bushes your Mom delicately planted in the front yard. Somehow he hasn’t noticed you practically standing above him, despite his head being on a swivel for potential onlookers. A heap of hydrangeas and azaleas sat next to him as he cut another one off from the bush at an angle. Was he really stealing flowers from your yard right now in the dead of the night?

“Hey!” you called out, making sure not to be too loud that you might accidentally wake your Mom. The flower thief’s eyes darted up to yours in sudden fear. You raised an eyebrow at him, the corner of your lips lifting as you brought the cigarette to your lips and inhaled more smoke into your lungs. He jumped up, stolen flowers in a death grip in one hand and scissors in another, and suddenly came face to face with you. You blew the cigarette smoke in his face.

He took a couple steps back, coughing and waving the smoke away from his face with the hand that held his scissors. They glinted in the moonlight, the metal catching your eye. You chuckled a little to yourself, mainly because you thought that he was actually something to be afraid of at first. Who steals flowers from their next door neighbor?

You gasped, pressing your free hand to your chest in mock fear, “Are you trying to kill me with scissors right now?”

The flower thief looked like a deer caught in headlights. You could see the fear rippling through him like a stone in water as his wide eyes stared at you. He was frozen in his place. “What? What? No! I-I… Uh—”

He looked down to the flowers in his hand with furrowed brows and then held them out towards you. You chuckled again from your place on the porch still, the smile on your face growing as he stumbled over more and more of his words. You took one last drag from the cigarette before dropping the butt to your feet and smothering out the flame with your slipper. The flower thief persisted, continuously cutting himself off, “I was just… You see, it’s—”

You crossed your arms against your chest, trying to seem nonchalant but really trying to mask how cold you were right now, and got a good look at him. If you thought about it, he was pretty cute with his round features. He seemed rather tall—clad in a black oversized zip-up hoodie, loose denim jeans rolled at the bottom to show his funky socks that you couldn't make out that well, and dirty converse that were grass stained.

He must steal your Mom’s flowers a lot.

His brick red hair was disheveled and his wide brown eyes landed on just about anything other than you. “So you’re just a petty thief then, huh? Is that it? You like to steal flowers from poor innocent mothers who break their backs planting them, don’t you?” you ask him, trying not to let the laugh come out through your voice and barely succeeding.

“No!” he exclaimed, shaking his head rapidly with his arm still outstretched. “No… it’s for—I’m… I—”

The flower thief suddenly surged forward towards you and the flowers, making you take a wild step back. He quickly cut another flower from your Mom’s hydrangea and azalea bushes and took off towards his own house. “Sorry!” he threw behind him, giving you one last look.

You ran off the porch and into your yard after him, but stopped yourself short. “What the fuck, dude? Those are my Mom’s flowers!” you shouted in his direction. He threw more apologies at you, but didn’t stop his sprint. You just shook your head at him. Let him keep the flowers if they were so important to him that he had to steal them in the middle of the night.

You finally let out the laugh you were trying so hard to keep in. You tried your hardest to keep it relatively quiet, but knew you didn’t succeed when the neighbor across from you’s light flicked on. Taking off yourself, you darted back onto the porch and towards your front door, flinging it open and hiding yourself within the comfort of your own home.

“I wish you’d stop wearing these beat up shoes,” Heeseung’s Mom said as she examined the outfit he came downstairs in. She still hadn’t told him what he needed to get dressed for so he didn’t put much thought into his outfit. But, seeing how nice she cleaned up in a pretty jewel-toned dress, made him realize that that was a mistake. Heeseung’s Mom sighed in an ‘it’s good enough’ way as her gaze flicked back up to meet her son’s. “And you desperately need better clothes,” she continued, waving her hand in the air at him. “Did you not buy any new ones? Have you just been walking around your dorm and campus in this… questionable attire?”

Heeseung sighed at the way his Mom raised her brows at him in question. He couldn’t tell her that his shoes were so beat up because he’s been dragging them through dirt and along grass. As for his clothes… That was just his style—and he hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with it until now. Heeseung decided to not answer her and instead guide the conversation in a different direction. “You never said where we are going and why it’s so important for me to go with you,” Heeseung asked instead. 

After fiddling with the collar of his faded t-shirt, Heeseung’s Mom smiled up at him. “The neighbors have invited us to dinner! I hear their daughter is also back from college on spring break!” she exclaimed. Heeseung knew his Mom well enough to catch the hint in her words. This was all some elaborate set up to bring him and this poor random girl together, and the neighbors were most likely also part of it.

“Mom—” Heeseung started, but was cut off by his Mom raising a finger, the smile still on her face. 

“From all the stories I’ve heard she’s a nice, sweet girl and I think that the two of you would get along well. Now, go grab your jacket. It’s chilly outside.” Heeseung just sighed, a slight pout forming on his lips as he walked over to the coat closet.

When his Mom was grabbing her own jacket, Heeseung pulled the vase full of hydrangeas and azaleas out from its hiding place and presented it to her turned back. When she turned, her eyes landing on the beautiful display of flowers, she gasped. “For you, Mom,” the smile on Heeseung’s face grew wider with how his Mom’s face lit up.

She took the vase of flowers from his hands, smiling softly down at them. “You are so very sweet! But, don’t think that this is getting you out of this dinner.”

Heeseung groaned as his Mom placed the vase down by the window. Together, they stepped out of the house.

“So which neighbor is it?” Heeseung asked. He looked around at the houses that surrounded him. Heeseung wasn’t that familiar with his neighbors, especially not since he’s been at college, so it really could’ve been anyone. 

Heeseung’s Mom tilted her head towards the house right next to theirs, “The ones right next door! Come on, I don’t want to be late.”

Heeseung froze in place. Surely his Mom meant a different neighbor, right? One where he hasn’t been stealing flowers from every odd night since he came home? Too late his mind was putting together the pieces. The daughter that is back for spring break… That must’ve been you. He couldn’t come face to face with you again after that embarrassing encounter from last night! What if you exposed him? “Maybe we should skip out this time,” Heeseung practically begged.

“Nice try,” his Mom replied, “let's go.” She pushed him in front of her and towards the house. Defeated, Heeseung accepted his fate and crossed the shortcut through the grass to where your front walkway was. He stood behind his Mom hunched over himself—he really didn’t want to be standing on your doorstep right now.

A woman who he could only assume was your Mom opened the door after his knocked, a welcoming and warm smile on her face as she beckoned the both of them inside. Heeseung didn’t hear what your Mom was saying she cooked for dinner tonight, he was too busy scanning the living room for your presence.

Your home looked like any old suburban home in the area. As his Mom and yours began to chat, Heeseung looked around more at the photographs that hung on the wall. There were various photos of you and your Mom at different stages of your life—some where you were at a pool and others where you were holding trophies for an achievement Heeseung couldn’t make out.

His gaze lingered on the photographs that seemed more recent that were in frames along the table by the front door. You looked so different from how he last saw you at dead of night. In the picture, you didn’t have the smudged dark eyeliner around your eyes or the cigarette smoke clouding around you almost like a halo. It was somewhat odd to Heeseung to see you without them.

Heeseung’s name being said lowly caught his ears. He looked to the side to see his Mom and yours chatting in low—but not low enough—voices about the two of you, a please smile on their faces. “I told you he’d be interested!” Heeseung’s Mom whispered, her eyes quickly darting to where he stood, still bent over slightly to get a better look at your picture. “Speaking of, where is your daughter?”

All heads turned to the descending sound of footsteps at the staircase, your arrival coming at the perfect moment. Heeseung couldn’t deny that you were absolutely gorgeous. Your eyes met his and it felt as if time started to move more slowly. As you rounded the stair landing, your Mom rushed towards you and practically pulled you right in front of Heeseung before you could even have the chance to blink. “Honey, come greet our guests,” your Mom says.

You tilt your head at the guy standing before you, barely hearing your Mom give you his name. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes—this was the guy who was stealing flowers from the bushes out front last night! Did he have no shame? Why was in your house having dinner with you and your Mom?

You could, once again, see the barely disguised fear in his wide eyes. Lifting a finger at him, your brows furrowing, you began to speak but was quickly cut off by your Mom beating you to it. “Well, Heeseung’s Mom and I are gonna finish up here in the kitchen. Why don’t the two of you wait on the couch? Get to know each other before we eat dinner?”

It wasn’t like they gave you both a choice. One moment you were seconds from confronting the late-night landscaping larcenist and the next you were shoulder to shoulder on the couch with him while your Moms giggled and scurried off to the kitchen. You both jumped away from each other, and you gave him a glare.

“Listen,” Heeseung started, “I’m really sorry about the flowers. Please don’t tell your Mom! It’s just—I… They’re my Mom’s favorite flowers and they were just so accessible being in your front lawn, I thought it wouldn’t be that big of a deal! You know, shave some off the top and—”

You cut off his rambling by pressing a finger to his lips to silence him. Chuckling a little, you say, “I don’t really care about the flowers. Just… Why in the middle of the night? Why didn’t you just ask for some? I’m sure my Mom could've even given you some seeds or something.”

Heeseung’s stare immediately dropped to your finger still on his lips, to the chipped black nail polish that coated your nails. He could smell the perfume you sprayed on yourself and it briefly clouded his senses with its sweetness. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. His head was completely empty as he dragged his gaze back to you. It took you raising an eyebrow at him for Heeseung to snap back to his senses. “Uh… I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t really think about it,” he finally says, his voice slightly muffled.

You retracted your finger and Heeseung’s lips immediately felt cold without it. Lifting the corner of your lips up at him, you leaned back onto the couch, “I guess I’ll keep your secret, flower thief.” You said it loud enough for your Mom to potentially hear and Heeseung sat up straighter, peering over the couch to where the entrance to your kitchen was. You laughed, and Heeseung looked back at you shaking your head at him. “Don’t worry, they can’t hear us. They’re probably in there, like, planning our wedding or something… You do know this whole dinner is a set up, right?”

Your face grew serious for a moment before you broke out into another laugh. This time, Heeseung joined in. “Yeah, I figured. I wonder what made them put the two of us together.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you asked, an offended look passed across your face. “Were you expecting something else? Am I not up to your standards?”

Heeseung was quick to say that that wasn’t the case, stumbling over his words on how pretty you were and that he wouldn’t mind being with you or even someone like you, before you cut in with another laugh. His heart was racing, but he awkwardly laughed along with you as he brought his hand up to scratch the back of his neck. Heseung was glad that the length of his hair hid how red the tips of his ears no doubt were.

“I’m just fucking with you,” you say, patting his shoulder. “You don’t have to fall over yourself trying to make me feel better.”

Before Heeseung could respond, his Mom poked her head out from the entrance of the kitchen. Behind her, the sound of your Mom’s voice caught both of your attention and you turned around at it, “—come hell or high water! Just you wait, they’ll be together!”

You looked over at him and gave him a wink. A smile pulled at Heeseung’s lips and his gaze lingered on you as you stared at your Moms emerging figures from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready!” your Mom says, a delighted smile on her lips.

The two of you rose from the couch and made your way to the kitchen to help set out the dishes in the dining room. Each time Heeseung passed you, you made sure to graze your fingers along his bicep or let the fabric of your flannel brush his shoulder. When the two of you were alone in the kitchen, you pulled him down a little so your lips were at his ear and whispered: “Let’s give them something to be excited about.”

Dinner consisted of fake stolen glances and laughing a little too hard at anything Heeseung said. Between the act the two of you were putting you on, Heeseung was trying his absolute hardest to not let his face heat up to the point where everyone at the table could see how red he truly was. You subtly taunted him, bringing up the flower incident in front of your Mom without her putting two and two together.

“Mom,” you spoke, garnering the table’s attention, “I love the flowers you have planted out in front of the house. Don’t you like them too, Heeseung?” You turned to look at Heeseung and suddenly the table’s entire attention was on him.

Heeseung shifted in his chair, the cushion suddenly uncomfortable. He finished chewing, swallowing hard, giving him precious seconds to think before answering. “Y-Yeah—Yes, they’re very beautiful!” Heeseung’s voice came out a little strained, but he hoped that your Mom didn’t think too deeply about it. He glanced at you, raising a brow ever so slightly. What happened to keeping his secret?

You cleared your throat, clearly a tactic to mask your laugh as you hid your smile with your hand. You rested your head on your hand as you looked at him. Heeseung felt the toe of your boot at his ankle, slowly making its way further up his leg and dragging the bottom of his rolled up jeans with it. He shifted in his seat a little again and you smiled a little more, biting your lip.

“My exquisite hydrangeas and azaleas…” your Mom trailed, tsking and shaking her head. “I think we’ve had an uptick in bunnies or something! Every time I go outside to water them and make sure they are doing okay there’s always some that has been chewed off.” You looked over to Heeseung and he looked over to you. You shook your head at your Mom’s words, pretending to be sorrowful. “It’s so strange too! I never see any bunnies around, but I don’t know what else it could be,” your Mom continued.

“Such a shame…” Heeseung’s Mom trailed. He was glad that she didn’t piece together that the flowers he gave her earlier were the exact same flowers that were in front of your house—same color and all. If he was lucky, she must think that he had gotten them from the shop. Heeseung made sure to keep his mouth shut.

Under the table, your foot had traveled all the way up to right below Heeseung’s knee. He was trying his hardest to keep composed, but it was glaringly obvious that something was wrong with him by the way he kept squirming in his seat. His Mom’s eyes flicked over to him in question and Heeseung inhaled deeply. You tilted your head at him in concern, your brows furrowed. “Everything alright, Heeseung?” you asked him, trailing your foot up further.

Heeseung pushed back from the table, his chair scraping along the hardwood floor and making an awfully loud and grating noise. Your foot dropped, and you tried your hardest not to laugh at his reaction. “S-Sorry,” Heeseung spoke, looking around the room. Forks were stopped halfway to mouths and all sound in the air died out. “Uh—Where’s your restroom?” he asks, standing to his feet awkwardly.

“Down that hall and to the left,” you smiled, there was a hint of knowing in your expression that made Heeseung feel even more embarrassed. You rested your head in your hands again, looking up at him. Heeseung apologized again, rushing towards where the restroom was located and adjusting his jeans in the process.

He didn’t understand you. Heeseung thought that when you said to give your Moms something to be excited about, that your actions would be a lot more out in the open. What was the point of teasing him under the table? Did you just want to see him flustered? Maybe that was it.

Heeseung couldn’t stop thinking about your touch—your finger on his lips and the graze of your fingertips on his bicep or the feeling of your knuckles brushing together when you both accidentally reached for the same platter. It was driving him a bit crazy at this point, and it didn’t help that the potential threat of his secret being exposed by you loomed over him. He couldn’t tell if this was all to make your parents happy still and if he was supposed to just play along, or if it had somehow along the way turned into actual flirting. Heeseung turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face.

It was undeniable that you were attractive. Your smudged eyeliner and chipped nails just made Heeseung even more attracted to you. He wouldn’t mind if things between the two of you delved deeper than the surface, if possible. He wanted to ask you what your end-goal was, but he also didn’t want to possibly mess up his chances of getting to know you better. Either way felt like a lose-lose battle to him, and that drove him even more crazy than before.

Heeseung looked at himself in the mirror, the cold droplets of water running down his chin and dripping off his face and into the sink below. Heeseung liked you, that he couldn’t deny anymore.

He cut the water off and dried his face with the hem of his t-shirt. Heeseung took another look at himself in the mirror, sighing softly, before exiting the bathroom and making his way back to the dinner table.

The first thing Heeseung did when getting home from the dinner with you and your Mom was immediately rush up to his room. He pressed his back against the coolness of the wooden door, finally feeling like he was able to breathe fully as he shut his eyes. He stayed there for a moment, just slowly inhaling and exhaling until his body didn’t feel like a livewire anymore.

Heeseung opened his eyes and his gaze fell on the way the moonlight filtered through his still-open blinds. He exhaled again and pushed off the door to go close them. What he wasn’t expecting to see was you. Your window was right across from his and you looked to be getting ready for bed as you moved about your own room, the light from your room flooding outside the panes of your window and onto the side of your house. Heeseung was mesmerized for a moment as he watched you. You were completely oblivious to him, and most likely at the fact that your windows faced each other too. 

Heeseung swallowed hard when you stripped off your shirt right in view of the window for him to see. You turned towards the window and he could see the black bra you wore before you bent down to take off the black denim shorts you had on, leaving you in a matching pair of black panties. Heeseung’s eyes widened. He knew he shouldn’t be watching you get undressed right now, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you either.

You turned your back to him, unclipping your bra and letting it fall to the floor. Heeseung’s breathing picked up and he was so focused on you that he didn’t even notice the growing bulge in his jeans—nor how it was on full display for you too, if you happened to turn back around and look up at your window. Heeseung was glad that the darkness gave him a bit of coverage as he pressed more against his window, taking great care to get a good view from between his blinds. Only when you hooked your thumbs onto the hem of your underwear and began the action of pulling them down your legs did Heeseung finally snap back to his senses and practically fling himself away from the window.

He fell into his desk next to the window, various trinkets and pencils falling off from the surface of it and onto the floor. What was wrong with him? What if you caught him in the act? Heeseung looked down at his pants and the insane boner he had. “Fuck,” he breathed, bringing his hands down his face as he caught his breath. He moved from the desk to his dresser so he could grab some clothes for a shower.

As he stood under the hot stream of the shower, he couldn’t stop his mind from running rampant with thoughts of you. No matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut, all he saw was you in front of that window, stripping for him. He couldn’t stop himself from conjuring up the image of what he would’ve seen had he stayed for a few seconds longer and watched the black fabric of your underwear fall down the curve of your ass. Heeseung imagined what your tits might’ve looked like when they weren’t below the fabric of your shirt or bra. He jerked himself off faster at the thought.

The stream of water ran down his shoulders and he inhaled sharply, slowing his hand until he was gripping just the tip of his cock. No matter how hard he tried wiping his mind clean, the images just kept appearing. Heeseung cursed under his breath and started to move his hand again, at first starting slowly before he couldn’t pace himself anymore. He was so glad that the sound of the water muffled the mewls spilling from his mouth.

His hand moved hastily, like he couldn’t bring himself to wait any longer, and Heeseung squeezed his eyes shut and pretended that you were in front of him—stripping for him. A gasp left his parted lips and he braced himself with a hand on the tiled wall. In his mind, you were smiling that knowing smile from the dinner and beckoning him forward. And of course, he followed.

It's almost like he could feel your touch still—that it wasn’t his hand fisting his own cock right now, but yours. If he thought about it harder, which he was desperately trying to do, maybe he could even feel your lips around him too. Or, even better… Maybe he could feel the way you wrapped around him until his cock fully disappeared inside of you. The thought brought him over the edge and he fell into the tile in front of him, the stream of hot water suddenly hitting his back.

Heeseung’s cum sprayed all over the front of the tub below him and washed away with the water down the drain. His chest heaved and he forced himself to take deep breaths as he slowly stroked himself to come back down to Earth, more spurts of his cum spilling from him as he emptied himself out completely. Heeseung’s eyes fluttered open finally and he was disappointed to find himself still in the shower. God, what were you doing to him?

He cleaned himself up and left the shower, the feeling of embarrassment and slight shame weighing down his shoulders. After he was dressed and all ready for bed, he checked his window again. Part of him was hopeful that you’d still be standing there—and another part beat himself up over the fact that he was being a creep. Still, he made the short trek to his window to see anyway.

Your light was off and your blinds were closed, much to Heeseung’s disappointment. But, to his surprise, there was a piece of paper with writing on it taped to your window for him to see. On it, the paper read: “Perv” with a smiley face sticking its tongue out next to it in bold, sharpied letters. For a second, Heeseung’s heart dropped. He had been found out and you actually did see him after all. But… Did the note and the smiley face next to your writing mean that you didn’t mind it? Heeseung’s head felt even more clouded, but he couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at his lips.

Maybe the lines between the two of you were getting more and more blurred like he thought. Maybe it wasn’t so surface level and you were flirting with him at the dinner after all, and he was just too stupid to realize. Whatever the case, Heeseung knew that he had to see you again, no matter the cost.

You were back outside at the dead of night again, sitting on your porch swing as you looked out into the vast, dark sky and breathed out cigarette smoke. Some random bottle of wine was at your side, and you occasionally took swigs from it. The alcohol left you hazy, your eyelids weighing heavy the more you drank. It was another quiet night, much to your dismay. You had been coming out the past couple of nights to see if you could catch Heeseung in the act of cutting your Mom’s flowers again, but it's been a few days since you last saw him at the dinner your Mom hosted. If you were being honest, you thought it wouldn’t have taken this long—not with the whole window interaction. You had thought you made your intentions clear, but now you weren’t so sure.

Or, maybe he just didn’t feel the same way you did and was intentionally ghosting you.

You sighed, ready to retire for the night and call it quits before you heard the sound of someone walking near you. Looking up, you scanned the yard and saw the blur of a hoodie. Your face broke out into the slightest smile and you sat up a little straighter, standing from the swing.

“Hey,” you said, your eyes falling on Heeseung’s figure walking up to the stairs of your porch. He jumped, clearly not expecting you to be there, before smiling. You nodded him over to the porch swing you stood in front of and he climbed up the stairs while awkwardly fiddling with the hair at the back of his head. You sat back down and he sat down next to you, close enough that your shoulders touched and your thigh brushed against his. “What are you doing here?” you ask, looking over at him before taking another long drawl of the cigarette. You made sure to blow the smoke away from his face this time. “Here to steal some more flowers, thief?”

Heeseung laughed, waving a hand in the air. “No, I—Uh… I came to talk to you actually.”

You raised a brow at him, curious as to what he wanted to talk about. A chuckle fell from your lips, “Oh, really? About what?” You handed the half empty bottle of wine to him and he graciously took it. You’d offer him a cigarette as well, but he didn’t look like the type to even know how to light it, nevermind smoke it. Heeseung took a large swig from the bottle, thickly swallowing the wine down before he brought it back up to his lips to take another. “Woah… You must need to tell me something serious. Take it easy,” you told him before taking the bottle away.

Heeseung wiped his lips, looking at you with big eyes. He fumbled over his words, nothing coherent coming out. You smiled at him and leaned over to the small table next to the swing to put your cigarette out in the ashtray. “Here, let me start. I have something I want to say, too,” you say.

Raising the bottle to your lips, you drink some more of the wine before clearing your throat to speak. “Listen, I get it if you aren’t looking for something right now. Or-Or, maybe I wasn’t clear on what I wanted? Fuck, I’m so bad at this…” You ran a hand down your face, shaking your head a little. Your brain was already foggy from the alcohol and trying to think right now wasn’t exactly working. “You’re hot, okay? And-And I like you.”

You avoided Heeseung’s gaze, opting to look back out at the sky and the stars. In your peripheral vision, you saw his face change, but couldn’t see to which expression. “And I think that… maybe you like me too?” you continued. You dared to look back at him and your eyes met. Heeseung looked stunned, like he couldn’t believe that those were the words that came out of your mouth and he was actively trying to figure out if he was hearing things or not.

When he was silent for a moment, you quickly stood from the swing, bringing the bottle of wine with you. “Y-You don’t have to say anything. We can finish this talk when it’s daylight,” you rushed out. You moved past him, feet moving quick to get to your front door before Heeseung’s hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back towards him. In the seconds it took for you to turn to him, his other hand reached up to cup your cheek and his lips pressed to yours.

You stumbled backwards a little, shock flooding you like the breaking of a dam, before you wrapped the arm that wasn’t holding the wine bottle around his neck to pull him closer to you. Your lips moved in perfect sync with his and you melted into the kiss. Heeseung’s other hand snaked up your side and pulled you close to his chest.

You didn’t even think about the fact that you needed to breathe. The only thing that ran through your mind was his soft lips against yours and your bodies pressed together. You wished that the two of you had kissed sooner. You wished that when the two of you sat on that couch together that you had climbed into his lap and brought your lips to his then. What a whole world you were missing out on.

Despite his better judgement, Heeseung was the one to pull away, his breathing falling heavy and his eyes shining. You smiled at him, shy all of a sudden. You didn’t really know what to say, even with Heeseung’s grand display of how he also felt about you. Finally, you settled on, “Do you wanna come inside?”

The two of you laughed, but Heeseung shook his head, his smile lingering. “Next time,” he said. “I want to be completely sober for this. I want us both to be completely sober for this.”

You laughed harder, pulling away from his grasp. He sounded like he was waiting his whole life for this moment and he didn't want anything to potentially taint it. You doubted the alcohol would make much of a difference, especially for him since he barely had any, but you nodded along anyway. “Next time, then,” you say, heading towards the door. “Goodnight, Heeseung.”

“I meant what I said, by the way,” Heeseung called after you. You turned back towards him, confusion written all over your face. He hadn’t said much of anything. And if his large gulps of wine were anything to attest to, you supposed it was from the nerves. “Before dinner, on the couch,” he clarified.

You took a second to think back to that night, to think back on the conversation the two of you had and go back over it in your mind. You came back with your own words: “You don’t have to fall over yourself trying to make me feel better.” You had jokingly said it when he started to ramble on about how he would love to be with you or someone like you. A smile pulled at your lips as realization fell over you.

“I know I was pretty awkward with it, but I was serious,” Heeseung says.

Rushing forward, you bring your lips to his once more, but only for a brief moment before pulling away. With your lips just centimeters from his, you say, “See you next time.” You turn again, heading for the door, and right before going inside you give Heeseung one last look before closing the door completely.

Heeseung is still awestruck that this all even happened, that you actually liked him like he liked you. He truly couldn’t believe it. He was sure that any moment now he would wake up in his bed and it all would’ve been a dream—he even pinched himself on the way from your porch to his house to confirm it for sure. But, it wasn’t. It all really happened, and that made Heeseung light up inside again like no other.

He wanted to jump up and shout from the rooftops and click his heels together. He couldn’t wait to see you again, and he especially couldn’t wait for that “next time” to finally happen.

A knock on the door sounded throughout the house and Heeseung looked towards the door from his spot on the couch where he was lazily flipping through channels on the TV. He wasn’t expecting any company, and his Mom didn’t tell him to expect anyone either. Heeseung raised a brow and he stood to his feet and let the remote fall somewhere on the couch from his hand.

When he pulled the front door open, he surely wasn’t expecting you to be on the other side of it, a big smile on your face as your figure basked in the springtime sunlight. For a moment, Heeseung was stunned. He hadn’t really seen you in the daylight before, as the majority of your encounters had taken place at night. He loved the way the sun made you glow like his very own angel sent to see him.

After the kisses the two of you shared, you both mainly spent time together in the middle of the night outside on your porch swing talking about everything and nothing. The two of you haven’t even kissed again. Everytime Heeseung would lean in and try to kiss you, you let him get as close as a brush against your lips before pulling away teasingly—telling him that “All good things come to those who wait.” He didn’t know how much longer he could—didn’t know what was taking him so long. He was so focused on finding the perfect moment that he seemed to be missing out completely.

It seemed you couldn’t wait much longer either, deciding to take matters into your own hands.

“Hey,” Heeseung smiled at you as he stepped to the side to let you in, “what are you doing here?” You entered his house, taking a brief look around the place before spinning to face him, the smile still on your face. You kicked off your boots and adjusted the leather jacket that you wore. Heeseung shut the door, giving you his full attention.

“It’s next time,” you say, taking a step towards him. Heeseung’s eyes widened, his face surely showing the shock he felt. Did you mean right now? Not that he didn’t want it, but Heeseung didn’t have any time to prepare. He doesn’t even look his best, either. And where were you supposed to do it, here on the couch? What if his Mom walked in?

Heeseung began pulling his shirt off but you grabbed his arms to stop him. “Not right here! Take me up to your room or something!” you exclaimed, looking at him incredulously. You slid your hand in his.

“Right, right,” Heeseung says, laughing awkwardly.

He pulled you with him towards the stairs and up to where his bedroom was, his heart racing with each step he took. Behind him, you giggled at his behavior and how nervous he was to finally sleep with you.

When you got to his room, he let go of your hand to hurriedly dart around his room. He rushed to pick up random shirts and jeans on the floor and shoved them into his closet along with throwing away any garbage that was still on his nightstand. As he cleaned, you walked over to his desk and shrugged off your leather jacket and laid it on top of the back of the desk chair. You turned and watched him, trying to keep your laugh in, as you patiently waited.

When he was finished he rushed up to you, pulling you to him by your waist. “Sorry… I wasn’t expecting you to come over,” Heeseung said, a bit breathless. You smiled at him, leaning forward to press your lips to his. Oh, you’d bet. A girl can only wait for so long—and if you left Heeseung in charge, you would’ve been waiting forever.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not what I would’ve been paying attention to anyway.” Your hands trailed down Heeseung’s chest to his stomach as you slowly pushed him back towards his bed. He followed your lead, letting you back him up until the back of his knees hit the side of the bed and fell down onto it. He looked up at you with those big eyes, desire swirling inside of them as he hungrily looked over you standing above him.

You slowly stripped off your long-sleeved shirt and let it fall to the ground below you, your dark red bra pushing up your tits. Heeseung sat up further—his hands reaching for you—but you pushed him back down, wiggling a finger at him. “You really know how to make a girl wait,” you tell him, hooking your thumbs into your jeans to pull them down. “I had thought you’d change your mind.”

“Never,” Heeseung breathed as his sweatpants got tighter and tighter the more clothing you took off. There was practically a tent in his pants, and for once he wasn’t ashamed about it. Your jeans fell down to the floor and you kicked off the rest, smirking at him.

“Look familiar?” you ask, referring to him seeing you in just your matching dark red bra and panties. You turned your back to him, unhooking your bra and letting that fall, too, before looking over your shoulder at him. “Maybe this will jog your memory?”

Heeseung’s mind was taken back to that day he watched you strip through the window, his thoughts now finally being confirmed that you did in fact see him. His face completely flushed and he opened his mouth to speak, but only jumbled words came out. You giggled at him, turning to face him again, but Heeseung could only focus on how he finally got to see what your perfect tits looked like. His eyes widened even more.

You grabbed onto the band of his sweatpants, pulling at them to signal Heeseung to lift his hips so you can take them off. “That was a pretty big boner you had that day, don’t you remember?” you ask, your hand trailing over the boner he had currently. Heeseung’s hips jerked from the action. “Let me guess, you immediately ran to the shower, didn’t you? Disguised all of the noise behind the sound of the water?”

With his sweatpants, you had started to pull down Heeseung’s boxers too. They were halfway down his thighs when his cock sprang free out of them, the tip of it flushed and leaking. You didn’t even bother pulling his pants and boxers down further, too impatient to finally get your hands on him. Instead, your hand grabbed his rock-hard cock firmly, slowly stroking it as you leaned forward to press chaste kisses to Heeseung’s lips. Heeseung tried to keep his moans of pleasure down—even trying to kiss you for longer—but you wouldn’t let him. You wanted to hear him.

“I bet you fucked your fist all night and imagined it was me,” you say in a low voice against his lips.

You picked up the pace and Heeseung broke away from your lips, his head falling back as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. He struggled to keep himself upright—and if you kept pumping him he was sure to cum at any moment. “Nothing…” Heeseung started breathlessly, taking a moment to find his words through his heavy breathing and shallow pants, “Nothing compares to the real thing.”

You stopped stroking him, your hand stopping at his leaking tip and running your thumb along the slit of it. Heeseung moaned loudly, his eyes fluttering open so he could look at you in question. He was so close, why would you stop? Before Heeseung could ask, you pushed at his chest so he laid on his back fully and climbed on top of him. You sat your clothed pussy right on the base of his cock and slowly started to move your hips.

Heeseung desperately wished there wasn’t fabric separating the two of you. He needed to feel you—needed to feel the way you wrapped around him as your arousal got him even more wet. He wanted you to roll your hips against him until you accidentally rolled them a little too much and he slipped inside you. But, you were having none of that. You were going to make him wait, like he had made you wait.

“Yeah?” you asked, your lips smashing against his in a sloppy kiss. His words must’ve ignited something in you because it wasn’t long before you were both moaning into each other’s mouths. Heeseung nodded, his hands coming to rest at your hips to help aid them in moving faster.

Breaking away from his mouth, you placed both hands on his chest, brows furrowed in pleasure as you continued to rock your hips. Your panties were completely soaked through and they stuck to your wet folds as you grinded against Heeseung. You moaned so prettily, the soft sounds escaping through your plump lips, that Heeseung wanted to hear the sound forever. He never wanted you to stop—in fact, he wanted to make you moan louder, have you feel so much bliss that you didn’t even think to muffle your alluring noises by taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

Heeseung’s hands reached up to your chest, taking your tits in them and squeezing. He needed to know what cumming inside you felt like. He needed to know how it felt to see your mixed cum pour out of you from around him as he fucked it back inside of you. His hands settled down at your waist and he flipped you over to where his pillows were at so that you were on your back instead.

You gasped, stunned by the change in position and the sudden lack of friction. Heeseung spread your legs apart so he could get a full view of you. Your dark red panties almost looked black from how soaked they were, and Heeseung wasted no time as he pulled them off—tossing them somewhere towards his dresser so he could remember to steal them later.

He froze for a moment as he looked down at you completely bare for him. Heeseung dropped his fingers towards your folds, smearing around your arousal in a trance. You watched him as you caught your breath, twitching slightly at his touch. It was so lewd how wet you were, with each pass of his fingers it felt like the sound reverberated off the walls of the room. “I can’t believe this…” Heeseung muttered to himself, barely loud enough for you to hear. His words only made you wetter.

Heeseung pulled off the rest of his clothes. He didn’t want any barriers stopping him from being able to feel you completely.

Grabbing his hard cock, Heeseung slid it between your folds, giving you a slight taste of your own medicine as he watched the way your back arched off the mattress. The joke was complete on him, though, because you squeezed your thighs together and trapped his cock with them.

Heeseung’s mouth fell open and you giggled at him. “It won’t be that easy,” you say, sitting up on your elbows. Heeseung groaned but you cut him off by sitting up fully and kissing him. “This is for the flowers, you thief.”

You turned so your back was flat against his chest, his cock between your thighs begging you to give it some release.  You then grabbed Heeseung’s hands and brought them to your tits as you squeezed your thighs together tightly. Heeseung moaned at your ear, his hands squeezing you once again. “You’ll have to get off like this, first,” you told him while pressing your ass to his hips.

You looked down at his big cock between your thighs, at how flushed it was. Every small move Heeseung made drove you crazy because of the way he brushed against your clit. Each touch felt like a shockwave through your body, but you were too stubborn to let it go any other way. “You’re killing me,” Heeseung groaned again. “Haven’t I paid my dues?”

“Not even in the slightest,” you replied, moving away from him a little before pressing your ass back to his hips again so he took the hint. You hummed in pleasure, your gaze flicking towards him. If he wanted to be inside you, he better start moving.

Heeseung’s hands trailed down to your hips and he held you against him tightly as he leaned forward a little to catch your lips. He began using your thighs to fuck himself, his pace starting leisurely before all the pent up desire caught back up with him. Heeseung’s lips never left yours and the kiss only grew more and more sloppy as he pushed his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

You couldn’t hide your moans from him now, even despite them being muffled by his lips. Heeseung had you right where he wanted you and every brush of his cock against your clit made you dizzy, too dazed to notice the tremor in his hips against your ass as he fucked your thighs nor the way his abs tightened against your back. Heeseung only held you tighter to his body, his skin slapping against yours and mixing with the sound of your shared moans.

Soon, Heeseung’s hips jerked and he groaned against your lips. “Fuck, baby, I need to be inside you right now,” he dragged out. “Please. I want to cum inside of you.”

You shook your head at him and squeezed your thighs together tighter. Curses flew from Heeseung’s lips and his pace slowed. “Not yet,” you said, raising your hand to grab his face so you could kiss him again.

A thin layer of sweat coated the both of you and your body felt like if it burned any hotter it might explode. Heeseung had a death grip on your hips, like he was afraid that after he was done fucking your thighs you might change your mind on letting him fuck you fully. He stilled as he pressed you to him tighter, if possible. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” Heeseung spewed out.

He barely moved from against you, too obsessed with the way you squeezed him to pull away from it. Thick, white ropes of cum gushed from him and coated the front of your thighs. Heeseung kept sloppily fucking you, a sigh releasing from his lips as more of his cum splattered across your lap.

You were dripping down his cock and all of the teasing and waiting you did backfired and was starting to make you desperate. You wasted no time flipping into your back, not even letting Heeseung come down from his high for even a moment. His cock hadn’t even stopped leaking cum—the rest of it dripping along your lower stomach—before you were rubbing it along your needy pussy. “Put it in… Hurry.”

Of course, Heeseung wasn’t going to wait any longer either.

He pushed inside of you, not being able to hold back any of his loud moans as he finally was able to feel what he’s been dreaming of. “You feel so good,” he breathed, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit.

Heeseung let himself sit inside you for a moment, just really appreciating how amazing you felt wrapped around him—how deep your pussy swallowed him up until he was inside of you completely.  He was pulled back down to Earth by the sound of your whine and the way you rolled  your hips up. The movement sent a wave of pleasure throughout his body and he pressed down on your hips to keep them still without thinking.

“Please move,” you begged him, holding tightly to his wrists.

Heeseung pulled his hips back and watched the way his cock slid out of you covered in your arousal. The sight turned him on so much that he felt like he was going to cum again just from that. He brought his cock out until just the tip of it was still inside of you. Heeseung then wrapped his arms around your thighs, smearing his cum that was still splattered on top of them, while moving your legs to rest on his shoulders.

You were expecting him to start slow and build up to a faster pace, but Heeseung skipped that completely. Instead, he pushed into you completely—the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling your ears—until his hips were flush with yours and pulled out of you again just as quick to repeat the process. You cried out, clawing at the sheets as you were hit with intense euphoria.

His cock didn’t even have to try at hitting your sweet spot, he was already there by just being inside of you. With each thrust he hit it more and more and more until your back was arched up off of the bed and you were seeing stars. “Fuck, right there! Please, don’t stop!” you moaned. You couldn’t even begin to care how loud you were being. All you cared about was how good Heeseung was fucking you.

Heeseung was panting like a dog and not once did he even think of stopping. He was chasing that high he first felt when he jerked himself off to the thought of you in the shower—when he imagined how it would feel to be fucking your pretty little pussy the way he was right now. It was complete heaven, better than that even. His words from earlier rang truer than ever before right now: Nothing compares to the real thing. 

“You like that?” Heeseung asked, his eyes moving up your body from the way your hips rolled up to try to meet his, to the way your tits bounced with each thrust he made, then to the harsh rise and fall of your chest, and finally to the purely fucked out expression on your face. Heeseung’s chest swelled with pride and he couldn’t help but smile. He was making you feel this way—he was causing all of these pretty whines and moans to fall from your parted lips. It was all him.

Your head was way too clouded to even answer him, the sound of your own euphoria drowning his words out. Heeseung knew as much, but that didn’t stop the next words from coming out of his mouth. “Yeah, you like that.”

He was slipping in and out of you so easily, it truly felt like your pussy was made to take his cock—and you were taking him so well. Tears formed in your eyes from all of the pleasure and messed up your already smeared eyeliner until streaks of black were running down your cheeks. Your body tensed and you squeezed down on him, letting Heeseung know you were close before you even had the chance to say anything.

“Keep going… fuck—” you cried. You tried pulling your legs away from Heeseung, but he wrapped his arms around them tighter and held them firm to his chest. You squirmed and pulled at his bedsheets, the euphoric bliss suddenly too overwhelming. Your body started to shake all over, and Heeseung relished in it all.

Seconds later, you're cumming all around his cock—some of it even spilling out from around him and dripping down the curve of your ass. Heeseung moans at the sight and angles one of his arms down so he can run his fingers along your folds, coating the tips of his fingers in the creamy white. You jolt at his touch, gasping. 

It’s not long after until Heeseung’s thrusts get sloppy and his hips start to jerk. He pushes himself inside you completely, stomach tightening as his head falls back and he releases another load of his cum—this time inside of you like he’s been dreaming and begging for. Only when he’s sure that all of his cum is inside you is when he painstakingly starts to move, chasing the last bit of his high. 

Heeseung slowly pulls out of you and watches the way all of the cum he pumped inside of you spills out until it’s forming a puddle beneath where your two bodies connect. “You just made all my dreams come true,” he says awestruck, pushing apart your thighs more so he can see the way your pussy glistens in the sunlight coming from his window. “Every single last one of them.”

You barely have the energy to laugh, but you do. Did Heeseung just basically call you his dream girl?

It catches you off guard when he takes the tip of his cock and scoops up some of the cum that dripped down your ass and pushes himself back inside of you. A loud whine leaves your lips and you press your thighs together. “S-Sorry, I—Uh…” Heeseung mumbles, his mouth falling open with another moan. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this feeling. I need to be inside you forever. Would you let me?”

You rapidly nod, but push at his arms when he starts to move his hips again, slowly pushing in and out of you. “Heeseung,” you whine again. He chuckles a little before pulling his cock out of you completely.

Heeseung leans down so he can sweetly kiss your lips, his hand caressing the side of your face. “Good?” he asked you, a bit shy.

“Amazing,” you reply. “Next time, let’s not wait as long.”

Heeseung perks up at your words, “Next time?” You laugh at him, cupping his face with both of your hands. How can he be this clueless? It was genuinely astonishing. You kiss him.

“Yes, of course there will be a next time.” Heeseung’s face lights up and he gives you the most passionate kiss the two of you have shared yet. You laugh more in the middle of it. He is so adorable, it blows your mind that all of this came from him stealing flowers from in front of your house. “Now go get something to clean me up,” you say.

Realization crosses Heeseung’s face. “Oh, yeah. Right.” He gets up from the bed, still fully naked, and flings his door open to rush to the bathroom. Distantly, you hear water running before he’s back with a wet washcloth in one hand and his other hand tucked behind his back. When you raise an eyebrow, he smiles brightly at you.

“For you,” Heeseung says as he reveals the flower behind his back. Funnily, it’s one of the flowers he stole from your house. You burst out laughing, and he joins you, crawling back on the bed so he can start cleaning you up. You take the flower from his grasp.

“Wow, thank you for the flower that was already technically mine! It’s beautiful. Where did you get it?” you ask. Heeseung looks away, the smile still on his face, as he opts not to answer. You shake your head at him, sitting up so you can bring his lips to yours.

He can steal all of the flowers he wants, as long as he steals your heart next.

✉️ ⦂ there’s a lottienat everywhere for all eyes to see… himbo heeseung with a big dick please come and save me i’m begging

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ REBLOGS ◜◡◝ FEEDBACK APPRECIATED!

🏷️﹙ 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @hyukascampfire @xylatox @ghstzzn @izzyy-stuff @sunoosgfv @heechwe @whosserina @jellymochii @innocygnet @sumsumtingz @riribelle @bambiihee @minaateez @luvsicktyun @lvrs-street2mmorrow @tinycatharsis @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees

© faeyun - all rights reserved. do not repost on any social media or sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[backtothefanfiction]

Sleep Talking | Joaquin Torres

Summary; Joaquin could never keep a secret.

Warnings: none, this is all fluff

A/N: I couldn’t sleep until I’d put something out so yeah, this is just a real quick short before bed kind of story. I’ll get back on my asks/wips/part 2s of stuff tomorrow. For now, enjoy this. Also sorry I haven’t done tags it’s late and I’m tired so hope this finds you fine.

You woke unable to breathe. “Ouch, Joaquin,” you grumbled as your mind and body slowly dragged itself from sleep.

“Huh?” He grumbled sleepily.

“Baby, you’re squishing me.”

“What?” he groaned, but you could tell he was only half awake.

“Roll over. You’re squishing me. And you’re making me feel like I’m sleeping with a freaking radiator. Jeez.” you moaned as he shifted slightly and you truly felt how stifling it had become under the covers.

“It’s not me. It’s you,” he sleepily grumbled. You didn’t even have a chance to respond before he grumbled another response. “No.” he said with a sigh as he rolled back over onto his back on his pillow. “It was you. I know you ate my sandwich.” he mumbled.

Sandwich? What was he- ohhh, he’s sleep talking.

You chuckled to yourself as you rolled over onto your side to watch him sleep. Every now and again his lips would silently move to talk again, but it was mostly silent. You were just about to close your eyes and go back to sleep when you heard the words, “Because I’m going to marry her.”

There was a pause as if he was listening to someone else speak before he said, “What do you mean who? Y/N who else. I’ve already got the ring. I’ve been keeping it in my underwear drawer for weeks now.”

You were suddenly wide awake. You didn’t know if it was just the dream or if there was some actual truth to it and his subconscious was bleeding through. But there was one thing for sure, you weren’t going back to sleep until you knew for sure.

You tried to be as quiet as you possibly could as you crept out of bed, reaching for your phone and turning on the torch. Your feet padded quietly across the floor as Joaquin continued to let out small little murmurs. Every tiny shift you made to open the drawer sounded like thunder in your ears and you desperately hoped he wouldn’t wake up and catch you in the act. You gave one last quick tug on the old dresser drawer and there it was. Barely concealed by a pair of underpants, a square blue box.

You stood frozen in agony as you warred with yourself over what to do. Did you look and ruin the surprise completely or did you pretend you didn’t know it was there and climb back into bed. But you couldn’t help it. Now you knew of its existence, it was going to be burning a hole in the back of your head. You just wanted to be sure he picked a good ring, you tried to reason with yourself. You could be a good actress. You could still look surprised. You tried to rationalise as your fingers pulled out the velvet box. I mean he’s asleep, he’s not gonna know. You thought.

“Baby? What are you doing?” Joaquin asked, his voice hoarse with sleep. You looked at him guiltily. This was no sleep talking, he was well and truly awake now, sitting upright in bed as his eyes squinted, trying to adjust to the light of your torch in the dim room. That’s when he looked at your hands. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed. “Baby, I- wait, how did you-“ he paused as you continued to stand at the end of the bed frozen. Then he realised. “I was sleep talking.”

“Yes.” you finally said softly.

He groaned in frustration. “My mom said I could never keep a secret. I just wished for once I could have kept this one.”

“It’s alright,” you said.

“Did you look?” he asked.

“Not yet.” you replied. Your answer brought a soft smile to his face and he silently beckoned you over to sit with him.

“You know, I was waiting to do this on that trip to New York we were gonna take in a couple of weeks.” he began to explain, “but I guess this is good too.” Although it was dark in the room, you could tell he was beginning to blush as he took the box from your fingers.

“Y/N,” he said as his fingers deftly removed the ring from the box before he set it to one side. He tucked the ring into his fingers so you couldn’t see it just yet before he shuffled closer to you to continue his speech. “I have been in love with you from the minute I laid eyes on you. You can ask any of the boys, the second I saw you I said, that’s her, that’s the girl I’m going to marry. And of course they didn’t believe me, but I knew. You’ve been there with me for everything. Every hard day. Every promotion. You were always there to be my light and cheer me on.” he said, his voice shaking slightly with nerves. “You make every single day of my life, so much brighter and I don’t ever want to think of a day when you don’t wake up by my side. Y/N, will you do me, the greatest honour of my whole life,” he said, finally holding out the ring to you. “Will you marry me?”

It may have been 4am. It may have been in the dark of the night and extremely unconventional, but it was Joaquin. And you were always going to say yes to Joaquin.

[tbaluver]

I feel like you’re the perfect author to get this done!! I was wondering if you could do the l&ds boys and their reactions to you crying during sex? Not because you’re upset but either from a genuine love for them or overwhelming feelings and sensations. I love your work so so much!!! <333

When You Cry During Sex- The Love And DeepSpace Men

genre/warning: smut included MDNI, comfort and some fluff

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

a/n: hihi anonnie!! im so so happy to hear you love my work! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ i hope this is alright and that you'll enjoy this !!

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He gazes down at you with a look that combined lust and adoration, one hand reaching to gently cradle your cheek. He sinks into you so slowly as his hands roam free. He lowers his head down where his lips kiss at your neck. He pants and gasps against you, thrusting inside of you deeply. It's the way he took his time with you to give you what you want. Your bodies connected, souls intertwined. He was always so tender and affectionate with you that you didn't even notice the tears racing down your cheeks. Oh how you loved this man so deeply.

He would be SO worried. He would be internally panicking the moment he saw your tears. He'd slowly stop his pace and start asking multiple questions if you were uncomfortable or in any pain while wiping your tears away. He'd also ask if you'd want to stop but you'd cut him off and say no because that's the last thing you want and you were so so close to your climax.

He'd relax to hear you were okay while wiping any extra tears that ran down and replacing each tear with a kiss. You'd apologize for crying but he truly does not care because he insist that he will always be there for you and to wipe any of your tears away. He'd continue his pace to reach your climax and to meet his own.

Zayne:

With his perfectly angled thrusts, you can already feel the intense pleasure building inside of you. Your fingers fist his hair, gripping and pulling at the strands while he thrusts himself into you. An elongated groan strings from his lips as you tug his hair, his head tilting back with your pull, mouth agape while sighs escape him. His eyes peer down, continuing to stay locked on you.

He was so deep inside you, his cock twitching at the sight of his tip pushing slightly against the skin of your lower belly. The way his long fingers curling tighter into your hips to fuck you even harder. The way the man you love always made you feel so so good. He was also so affectionate and prioritized you first even to make you feel so good.

The pleasure coursed through your body with every quick and deep pump of his cock that you didn't even realize the tears tracing down your cheeks.

He would freeze, literally

His pacing would stop, immediately asking you multiple questions of "Are you hurt?" "Would you like me stop?" while he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears.

When you reassured him and explained what happened he was patient and relaxed to hear you were okay. He would always be understanding and sweet. He would draw you in closer, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head before gently pressing another kiss on your lips. It wouldn't take long for you both to get back to where you were and help finish you off.

Rafayel:

Rafayel liked having you on top of him because he can see you bouncing on top of him with your tips going up and down and seeing your face contorting with pleasure every time he reached a little deeper inside you. You work on his cock as your hands roam around his sculpted chest. Both of your grunts and moans echoed in the room as you fastened the pace. You were so close to your orgasm as your movement began to get sloppy. You were desperately chasing your high that you were unaware of the tears quietly sliding down your face.

The tears running down your face made Rafayel panic. He'd stop completely and sit up as he wipes the tears staining your cheeks while babbling "Are you okay?" and "I'm so so sorry." He would get cut off mid sentence when you'd whine and beg to let you continue while pulling him closer so he'd understand.

He would smirk understanding what those tears meant and let you continue back to work. But this time he would take control and grab your hips bringing you up and down, slowing your pace to tease you. "Tell me how much you love bouncing on my cock pretty girl."

Sylus:

Watching your face contort into pleasure was one of his favorite things. He starts thrusting faster, rougher than before, his own sounds of pleasure mixed with yours bounced off the bedroom walls. You whine from the sensation as his places his lips onto yours to soothe you, to comfort you.

Sylus was always so warm and big inside of you. The way your tight hole was fluttering around his girth made you see stars. You don't remember how many times you came on his cock as he rutted against you. Your legs were wide open as his cock was pumping in and out of you in such a fast motion that you didn't even realize tears are leaking from your eyes.

He refused to always take his eyes off you. He's always an observant partner so when he saw the tears run down your cheeks, he would slow down. His voice would be so gentle and ask if you were in any pain and if you would like to stop completely. When he heard you whine to go continue, he would pick up the original pace and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

"Am I making you feel that good baby? Do you want more?" While kissing the back side of your knuckles or down your neck to your collarbone.

[rhaeverie]

No Pain, No Gain — ljn

pairing. gym-rat!jeno x aider!reader genre. fluff, (kinda)friends-to-lovers, a dash of hurt/comfort, slice-of-life wc. 4.3k summary. Jeno’s well aware that he looks like an idiot in front of you, but what else could he do when just the sight of you makes him feel like a kid with a schoolboy crush?; or in which, Jeno’s been coming to your office with the tiniest of scratches just so he has an excuse to see you warnings. mentions of minor injuries (fake & real) and some bleeding (nothing super detailed but it’s still there), I sorta wrote this as if it were like a sitcom, cliche scenario an. clearing my wips! yet another fic set in the most random place u can possibly think of and it’s bc I (unhealthily) romanticize everything (×-×)—I started writing this during my gym rat (mouse?) era in 2023 but never finished it til now oops dk if its any good,,, enjoy!!

“I can’t move my thumb.”

You use your finger to smooth down the sports tape over its first layer, gently grabbing the younger boy’s wrist to inspect your work, “That’s the point, Chenle.” 

“How am I supposed to play basketball with this,” Chenle pouts, bringing his taped thumb and wrist to show you as if you weren’t the one who just did it. His posture grows worse at the realization of his small injury and now he’s slumped on the bed. 

You sigh and repeat yourself, “That’s the point. You need to rest it or else you can get an injury worse than this. I recommend maybe a week? But I’m not a doctor.” 

You start cleaning your station up, fully expecting Chenle to understand and leave. But instead, he remains seated on the medical table, pouting. You know he’s trying to get you to change your mind, but seeing that he reported his wrist feeling tight and stiff, you know that it’s sprained and playing with it could make things worse.

“Chenle, I’m being serious,” you groan, “You need to rest it or you can’t play basketball for the rest of your life.” You were obviously exaggerating, raising your brows for even more emphasis. If he won’t listen to you by simply telling him, you might as well scare him into listening to you.

“Rest of my life?” He frowns, looking down at wrist, “I… I guess a week doesn’t seem too long… Thanks Y/N.” 

You smile, relieved that he’s choosing to listen to your advice, “I’ll see you next week then?” 

He nods and gathers his duffel bag and his sweater, dragging himself out the door of the first aid room. 

You turn away from the door, ready to busy yourself with some housekeeping items when you hear a knock at the door. It’s quiet, and you almost think that you were imagining the sound, but when you turn to face the door, you’re met with the vibrant gaze of Lee Jeno, accompanied by a sheepish smile. 

Ah… Lee  Jeno—of course.

“Almost thought you weren’t going to show up today,” you joke, “What happened now?” 

To anyone unfamiliar with the two of you, it might come across as if you weren't exactly doing your job well, seemingly rushing through treatments even when faced with potentially serious injuries. However, the guy standing in the doorway right now has been delivering the most poorest excuses for injuries you've ever heard.

Sure, perhaps a couple of questionable 'injuries' wouldn't bother you much, because maybe the person was just overly cautious about their well-being. But when Jeno strolled into your office recently with the tiniest scratch on his left calf, you couldn't help but suspect that something was definitely up. 

“I need ice,” Jeno side-steps into your office and pulls the corners of his lips higher on his cheeks, “Please?” 

“Next time, just jog over to the nearby McDonald’s and get ice there,” you say jokingly. This was his nth time in the past month asking for ice. You wonder if he’s just been using it to put into his water or if this dude just has some kink involving ice. 

You only question Jeno’s recent tendency to visit your office because, ever since you started working at the gym, he's been a regular. Hell, his physique alone is proof to his long-standing commitment to the gym. It just doesn't add up that Jeno, with his apparent gym ‘seniority’, would be falling victim to injuries so frequently.

“Here you go,” you hand him a small, transparent bag that was partially filled with ice, “Anything else?” 

Jeno’s irises fall to the right corners of his eyes in brief thought, “More… ice?”

You groan to conceal your amusement and move closer to Jeno, “Goodbye, Jeno. See you again another day!” You gently place your hands to his elbows, spinning him around and out your door.  

“No, wait I—“

“See you!” You wave, leaving Jeno no choice but to actually take his leave. 

Your coworker Jaemin sees the interaction from the front counter, and seeing that there weren’t any gym goers coming into the facility, he waves you over. 

"Everything alright?" he asks, his gaze flicking briefly from the computer screen to you.

You glance at his screen and notice a game of minesweeper unfolding. Suppressing a snicker, you retort, "Yeah, same reason as last week." Swiftly, you click on an empty tile on his minesweeper grid, revealing the mine locations.

“I’m trying to help you and you do this,” Jaemin clicks his tongue against his teeth and diverts back to the situation, “It’s not in a creepy way, is it?” 

You give yourself a moment to think everything through, “I’m not sensing anything weird or creepy with it, if I’m being honest. He’s going about it… in a cute way?” 

Jaemin lets out a hysteric laugh and it echoes throughout the gym, “A cute way?” 

"There's no other way to put it," you casually shrug. Leaning against the desk, you absentmindedly flip through the management binders laid out before you.

Jaemin's brows knit, his curiosity piqued. "Cute, how?"

“I don’t know.” You’re lying. You know damn well what you meant. 

Every time Jeno decides to pull one of his ‘stunts’, he’s at your door, eyes all glossy and resembling a hopeful puppy. And when you choose to pretend not to notice him, he doesn't hesitate to clear his throat (rather obnoxiously) or hum out a soft, "anyone home?" even though you're clearly rummaging in your cupboards for more supplies.

Jaemin reads right through your feigned innocence, eyes narrowing, “Sure you don’t.”

“Well, it’s not something I can explain,” you groan, “Just take my word for it.”

“Okay… cute… does that mean you’re enjoying all this?” Jaemin’s eyes wiggle your way and you’re glad that no one’s around to see or hear this. 

You scoff, “Enjoying what?” 

"Come on, Y/N. Let's not play naive," Jaemin smirks, "Jeno is practically inventing reasons to see you.” Jaemin pats your head like you would a child, which you dodge almost immediately, “Which is honestly disappointing. A guy like Jeno could probably think of something way better but he resorted to something so basic.” 

You glare at Jaemin, your annoyance evident, “I hate that you’re probably right.” Because what else could the reason be? Jeno couldn’t be that concerned for his well-being. And you distinctly recall questioning your other coworker, Xiaojun, about whether Jeno tends to show up frequently on your days off. His response? A shocking no.

“I always am,” Jaemin brushes non-existent dust off of his shoulder, “But you didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?” At times like these, you have the memory of a goldfish.

“If you were enjoying it,” Jaemin clarifies, "You did call it cute, and cute usually equals enjoyment."

There were a couple ways you could go about Jaemin’s question. Was he asking if you were reciprocating this attraction Jeno seemingly had for you? Or maybe he wanted to know if you found amusement in the ongoing situation?

Regardless, your cheeks betray you by warming at the question and the thought of your answer sliding off the tip of your tongue.

“I’d be lying if I said no.”

—

It’s no surprise when Jeno shows up to your office two days later with the same smile plastered on his face. 

He’s standing right outside of your office, waiting for you to welcome him in. When you do, he enters the room slowly, greeting you as he moves toward the medical bed situated at the far corner and away from the entrance. 

Jeno watches as you rake through a pile of disorganized supplies, “How are you?” You weren’t in search of anything specific, but you were trying to busy yourself now that Jeno was in the room with no clear purpose. 

“I'm all right," you reply casually, your voice calm. "You?” You quickly glance up at him and almost crumble to your knees. Today, Jeno is sporting a black muscle tee and grey sweatshorts, and though you've never really taken notice of his outfits before, you secretly (and shamefully) remind yourself to start doing so. 

“I’m okay,” Jeno hums, “I was wondering if I could get a heat pack?” 

You take a good look at him and narrow your eyes, “It doesn’t look like you need one.” But regardless, you make your way toward the heat packs sitting in a cupboard by the fridge. You simply wanted to hear what his reason was this time. 

“My quads are really stiff today,” Jeno replies, subtly gesturing to his legs, “I could barely get through leg day with them.” 

“Well, this should work,” you say. You pop the pack and wrap a towel around it, “There you go. See you!” 

“Can I stay here for a bit?” You don’t see the way Jeno pouts. You’re too busy making your way to your box full of miscellaneous things. He presses the pack against the upper side of his thigh, remaining seated on the bed, “I’ll leave when the heat pack is finished.” 

Jaemin’s voice echoes in your head, "Jeno is practically inventing reasons to see you.” And you can now see that it was painfully obvious. 

“Of course,” you say, “Take as long as you need.” 

You move on to organizing the supplies, trying your best not to mind the pair of eyes that were burning holes into the side of your head. 

“So…” Jeno starts, “How was your weekend?” 

“You don’t need to make small talk you know,” you say, pulling out three pairs of medical scissors, “You could take a nap or something.” With your back turned to him, you go to put the tools away, “I don’t mind.”

Jeno swings his legs in the air and slumps, “Yeah, but I—uh—do want to make small talk.” He’s half-assedly holding the heat pack to the side of his thigh, growing annoyed that it wasn’t staying in a specific place. He resorts to pinning it under his thigh. 

“Which I also don’t mind,” you say, biting back a smile, “My weekend was okay… stayed home and relaxed. Nothing super special. You?” 

You stop and turn to look at him, keeping your eyes trained on the man who was now leaning back against the wall. The position looks uncomfortable, yet Jeno appears to be content. 

“Similar to yours,” he replies, “Except Hyuck forced me to play a few games online with him. It was fun, actually! But don’t tell him that.” 

You let out a snort. You’re familiar with Donghyuck, recalling how he and Jeno had made a deal that if Jeno managed to bring him to the gym for a few workouts, then he had to play some of his PC games in return. 

“How’s he doing anyways?” You question, “I haven’t seen him in a while.” 

Jeno’s brows furrow for a sliver of a second before they sit back to where they had originally been, “Last leg day killed him, so he’s given up until he recovers.” 

“Ah,” you giggle, “Can’t keep up with you, I’m guessing?” 

Jeno shakes his head, bangs creating a blanket over his eyes. He sweeps them aside, “Not really. I don’t really go hard on leg days. I’m more of a back and biceps type of person.” 

Your eyes defy you as they scan Jeno’s arms. You blame him. His statement was practically an invitation to look at his upper limbs as if you needed some kind of evidence, “I believe you.” It comes out a lot more flirty than you intended and you want to sprint out of the room before you make one more wrong move. 

“O-oh,” Jeno stammers. It was a sight seeing Jeno grow shy, using his hands to hide arms. And although he was hoping to conceal them, the man forgets that doing so only means he had to flex his arms, “Thanks?” 

You’re not sure how to reply, resorting to rummaging through the same box. You find some empty rolls of tape and you toss them in the trash. How do you even go about this conversation? Say ‘you’re welcome’? Weird. Ask him about his routine? No, it wasn’t like you were looking into building your arms. Ask if you could feel his arms? 

Shut up, brain, be fucking for real right now.

“Y/N?” 

“Hm?” You look up and Jeno’s looking back at you expectedly.

“Sorry, I zoned out a little there,” you sheepishly confess, playing with one of the box’s flaps, “Did you say something?” 

“I… uh, nevermind, it doesn’t matter,” Jeno clears his throat, “It was just about—um—something. But it can wait another day.” He smiles and it just about reaches his eyes. 

“Wait, no, tell me,” you frown. 

“It’s…” Jeno’s eyes flicker back and forth, contemplating if he really should go through with his question. He wants to—he really does—but his words fail him, teeth biting at his bottom lip. 

“It’s really nothing, ha-ha!” You watch as his gaze drops to the heat pack suffocating underneath his thigh. He uses the back of his hand to feel it. It’s still very warm, but regardless, he uses it as an excuse. “I’ll just take my leave… Um, I guess I’ll see you around?” Jeno slips off the bed, tossing the pack into the trash before he moves past you. 

“Wait, Jeno…” You make another attempt to stop him, guilt slowly creeping up on you, curiosity accompanying it because you should’ve been listening. 

For once, you wished he stayed just a bit longer. 

—

It’s been almost a week and a half since Jeno last visited your office. 

But who’s counting?

You check once, twice, thrice over your shoulder for Jaemin’s presence, nodding to yourself when you’re sure that your coworker wasn’t there to see the down-bad bullshit you were about to pull. 

Pulling up the gym’s database, you quickly type Jeno’s name into the search bar. While it loads, which feels so so painfully long, your fingers tap against the edge of the desk. You can’t believe you’re doing this.

“Hm.” 

Once Jeno’s profile finally appears on the screen, you follow his row to the Date Last Active column, seeing that he was at the gym this morning, two hours before your shift. 

A low whistle knocks you out of your trance and you jump, almost knocking the keyboard off the desktop. 

“Fucking hell, Jaemin!” You swing at his shoulder at a strength you knew damn well he wouldn’t even feel, “You think you’re funny sneaking up on me like that?” 

“Yes,” Jaemin shrugs, “Misusing the database I see…” His eyes narrow at you, brow raising. Then, he smirks and pokes at your rib, “Stalking your boyfriend.”

“Shut up,” you quickly exit the application and pull up Jaemin’s minesweeper game, “He’s not my boyfriend… Acting like you don’t do the same shit with other gym goers…” 

“I don’t see why you can’t just walk up to him and talk to him,” Jaemin sighs, “He’s still here, you know.” 

“He is?” 

“Awww your eyes lit up!” Jaemin teases, diabolically sticking a finger in your face. 

You threaten him again, which Jaemin completely disregards out of spite.

“But tell me why he’s been coming to the gym more often when you’re not here,” Jaemin, like you, was quite familiar with Jeno’s routines, “Did you do something that would force the poor guy to change his routine all of a sudden? Sometimes he wakes up at ass o’clock to get his workout done.”

Your mind reels back to your last interaction. Playing back each and every second and overanalyzing each and every word that left your mouth that afternoon. Yeah, you probably did but you don’t want to think that you’ve scared Jeno away. 

“I don’t think so?” 

“‘I don’t think so?’” Jaemin mocks, “Writing ‘liar’ on your forehead would be more subtle than whatever the hell that was.” He pauses his game and decides to fix all his attention onto you, “Now spill.”

“I really don’t know, okay?” you groan, “Last time I spoke to him, I zoned out and I missed what he was saying and then he left and he didn’t even choose to repeat it or anything.” 

Jaemin narrows his eyes at you, almost as if he’s lost all hope in his very good friend and coworker, “Y/N, did you not just graduate with a master’s?” 

Your brows meet, “Huh? What do you mean?”

He mutters a dumbass under his breath, which completely flies past your head. “Nothing.” Jaemin smirks subtly, turning away to leave in hopes that you don’t ask any further questions.

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Jaemin gets flashbacks to his mom, “Uhhhhhhh, there?” The man points to nowhere in particular before taking off. 

“Na Jaemin!” You call out. Your voice echoes through the gym and you groan, slumping against the desk before accepting defeat—because what did Jaemin mean? Was he calling you stupid or something?

Not even five minutes pass when you hear Jaemin’s voice boom over the speakers, “Y/N, you’re needed in your office. Y/N, you’re needed in your office.” 

You look over to Jaemin’s office and shoot him a look that could kill. And again, Jaemin ignores your threat, grinning menacingly before he waves cause he knows he’s pissing you off. You’ve never grown used to this man’s attitude, but it doesn’t mean you don’t adore it. 

Logging off the computer, you let out a huff and pad your way past the exercise machines and into your office. And from all that you were expecting, you sure as hell weren’t expecting to find a very worn out Jeno, the hem of his tank sprinkled in faint drops of blood. 

“Jeno?” You don’t even try to mask your worry, fast-walking straight to him before you guide (practically tugging) him to the medical bed, “What happened? Are you okay?” 

An annoying and almost spiteful grin shyly appears on Jeno’s lips before he turns his palms up for you to see. His hands were covered in blisters, some popped and others brand new. They looked extremely painful to even look at.

“Fuck,” you mutter, “Didn’t I say not to overwork yourself that one time?” You turn your back to Jeno and begin gathering all the supplies you need to treat his blisters. You’re rambling under your breath, words unrecognizable from where you’ve sat Jeno down. 

Your heart’s beating out of your chest, mostly because this is the first time you’ve seen Jeno in a while. But to add his injuries on top of that? You’re certainly not sure how you’re keeping composure. 

Meanwhile, Jeno really can’t do much but watch you move from one corner of the room to the other. He wants to get up and help, but by the way an eleven forms in between your brows, he’s reluctant to even say anything. 

It’s funny because despite how aggressive you’re handling all the supplies, the second you make contact with his wrist, your demeanor changes, suddenly shifting to be more gentler. You hold his hands as if you were holding a newborn, delicately rotating them to understand what had to be treated.

“If it hurts, tell me,” you say quietly, “Actually don’t. I’m mad at you right now.” 

Jeno’s head tilts to the side like a confused puppy. Then he finally says, “Mad at me?” 

“Yes,” you grab a sheet of gauze and begin wiping away at Jeno’s palm, dabbing carefully when it comes to the blisters, “I’m mad at you.”

“Why?” 

“This is why you need a break.” You ignore his question, grab new gauze and continue wiping away the new and old blood that’s accumulated in his palms. “Jeno, I know you like it here, but your body needs rest, too.” 

A response sits at the tip of Jeno’s tongue and he’s not sure whether or not he should tell you. The last time he decided to take a step out of his comfort zone, you didn’t even hear him. 

Does he want to try that again? 

You spray his palms with disinfectant before applying some ointment to help them heal faster. At this point, you hadn’t done as much as looked up to make eye contact with the man. 

“But..” Big step. “But this is the only place that I get to see you.”

What the fuck? 

You hope Jeno doesn’t notice the way you freeze for a burning second before you try to play it off by grabbing long bandages. It’s a good thing he can’t see the way your heart is beating erratically—and you’re hoping he doesn’t hear it, too. 

“You can literally see me wherever you want if you just asked,” you say nonchalantly, voice quiet, “But instead you resort to…” You stop yourself from speaking any further, unsure if you would even want Jeno knowing that you had suspicions of him pulling fake injuries out of his ass to make excuses to see you. 

“I’m not even sure if you’d even agree to it,” Jeno confesses, “I like… I really like talking to you but—“ 

“But what?” You slowly begin wrapping the bandage around his wrist, making your way up to his palm. 

Jeno can’t help but whisper, “You don’t seem to like me as much as I wished.” 

You hold back a giggle. Jeno’s always so accidentally cute and he doesn’t even know it. It’s literally pissing you off that a man you’re fake-mad at is doing absolutely nothing to earn your affection, yet here he was, doing just that. “You don’t know that.”

“I do know that,” Jeno counters. 

“No, you don’t,” you ping-pong back. The bandage crosses between his fingers and you manage to finish wrapping the bandage around his palm. 

“I do.”

“Did you ask me?” You gulp, because at this point you’re afraid where this conversation was going. 

“Well, do you like me?” 

You move onto his other hand, grabbing another roll of the long bandage. You could feel the atmosphere in the room begin to shift and now you’re beginning to sweat in your light sweater. 

“I do.” 

Jeno clears his throat, “In the way I like you?” You groan. Of course he’d say that. It was a valid follow up question, simply because your answer could very much cover that broad spectrum of like. 

You ask, “How do you like me?” 

Jeno takes a moment to think about his answer, watching as you start replicating your work from his other hand, “I honestly… think it’s obvious how I like you.” “Mmm,” you hum. At this point you’re teasing him on purpose, “How so?” 

“I make myself look like a fool when it comes to you,” Jeno huffs, “Ice? Heat packs? Who am I kidding…” Jeno scoots back in his seat and you follow, practically falling between his knees from the way he’s sitting. “Every time I come here looking for you, that’s when I gain the confidence to finally ask you out… well not always out but maybe for your number or just simply talk to you or something. I wanted to be friends and then more if it went well…” 

Your movements slow, attention failing to even do a decent job at bandaging. 

“But, when I finally reach this room and see you? It’s like I lose all that confidence and it’s stuffed in the bag with the ice you give me,” Jeno explains. “I’m even lucky enough that I can finish my sentences around you…”

You blink at his injured palm and the realization dawns on you. So this was what Jaemin was hinting at, “And that last time… you asked me out and—”

“And you didn’t hear me,” Jeno finishes, “And I couldn’t for the life of me repeat what I asked because my confidence plummeted and then the fear of rejection kicked in.” 

Your hands have since halted, cradling Jeno’s hand as you try to calculate your next move. It’s now clear as day that Jeno has feelings for you, and you’ve slowly been coming to terms with yourself that you care a little too much about Jeno than a normal person should. 

“Ask me now.”

“What?” Jeno practically jumps, startled and confused. 

You drop the bandage roll and lightly tighten your grip around his hand. Looking up, you find that Jeno’s gaze has already been sitting and waiting for your own to meet his. You clarify, “Ask me what you asked then, now. This time, I’m listening.”

The reassurance from you lifts some weight off of Jeno’s shoulders, ones he didn’t know even existed. Then, he fixes his composure, moistens his lips and finally says, “Would you–um–like to go out for dinner with me?”

“My answer then and now are the same,” you smile down at your feet, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze, “I would really love to.”

Eyebrows reaching for his hairline, Jeno’s eyes widened, “Wait, really?” 

“Really,” You nod. And although you try to look anywhere else in the room, Jeno’s eyes capture your eyes once again, holding them there for a few skips of your heartbeat. 

You clear your throat and let out a breathy laugh, “Haha so um… let me just—“ You hastily pick up the bandage roll and return to your work. 

It doesn’t take much longer before you finish, concealing and protecting his injuries under the bandages. “Now that you’ve got me, promise me you won’t overwork yourself like this?” 

“I’ve… got you?” Jeno’s cheeks heat up at your choice of words, the shift between the both of you being so evident now that he’s experiencing a weird case of whiplash. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, “Just promise me. I don’t wanna have to keep worrying about you getting hurt.” 

Jeno laughs, completely enamoured at your own flustered state. 

“Yeah, yeah… I promise.” 

[lo1k-diamonds]

Sugar Rush Ride 💜

SX Seoul Series | Yoongi's Entry 💜

PAIRING: YoongixReader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

WORD COUNT: 12.6k

GENRE: coworkers (mutually) pining to lovers

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: explicit, pwp (porn w/ plot really), drunk fight (but you sober up...sort of), bratty reader, rough but Yoongi is pro at aftercare, fingerfucking, face-fucking, edging, spankings, his hand is on your neck a lot (am I forgetting something?)

A.N. (Thank you @eerieedits for the cool banner 💜) This is based on the song of the same title by TXT 🔥 It was not planned and maybe it has been done before, but it was too good to miss 😁

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Yoongi parked his car underground in a private parking lot before stepping outside into the night in Itaewon. It was crowded as usual, but he paid no mind to the passersby — he had somewhere to be.

He reached the steps that led into a famous club in the neighborhood and entered below the red lines warming up the humidity into steam: SX.

He was giving away his coat when the music from the backroom hit him, the pop music with the codename temptation resonating in the air, and in his ribcage. He stepped towards it confidently, unbothered by the instant boom of noise that hit him once the door opened and closed again behind him. No, nothing would bother him until he found what he was looking for.

He scanned the room attentively, the darkness crossed punctually and rhythmically by the flashes of lights to the beat of the songs he helped produce himself. All but one song that ended up being the main track, the reason why he had rushed to be at the listening party tonight.

He got to the bar and looked around again; he saw lots of people he knew, the artists included. None had seen him yet, so he took the chance to search even more carefully. And finally, his eyes fell on you. You were listening attentively as you held your hair to the side and someone, a man spoke into your ear above the noise. Then you burst out laughing, shoulders and chest trembling with excitement, and your hand landed on the man’s chest. Not in a smack, not to push him away, just subtly placed there in an intimate gesture, or an invitation thereof.

Yoongi was by your side before he knew it. The man with you looked up with a silent question and you flinched and looked back, eyes instantly widening in surprise.

“Yoongi! You’re back!”

You launched your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug, and he immediately knew you had alcohol in your system. Despite this, he reacted the only way he could be expected to — he wrapped a protective arm around you and looked straight into the eyes of that dude trying his luck.

“Right on time,” you grinned when you stepped back. “Inhyuk, this is Yoongi, the producer I was telling you about.”

The guy bowed and said something polite, but Yoongi wasn’t listening. You had stepped to stand beside the guy and his hand had comfortably set on your waist. For a second, his sole thought was, Since when? But then he cooled down.

“I see. Well, enjoy the party. I’ll see you later,” he told you with his eyes set on yours and you got the message.

But you didn’t want to worry about that right now, so when Inhyuk pulled you by the waist to talk to you a bit closer, you didn’t flinch. You smiled and agreed to have another drink while the crowd around you listened and enjoyed the album you helped produce. You were proud of yourself, it was the fruit of your first year of work with—

The main track started and the crowd cheered as it did every time it played. Your eyes watered as Inhyuk congratulated you and clinked his drink to yours but as you drank, there was heat building inside of you. It was funny to hear the lyrics you wrote being sung back at you and fit perfectly at that moment. But then you chuckled, as your eyes fell on Min Yoongi. Your thoughts would always stop as soon as he was back near you. That would never change.

Yet you looked up and smiled at Inhyuk, giddy with your drink and with excitement. You made a vow when you decided to let this song be performed and sung — it was you putting your feelings into your work to get rid of them. That was the deal.

Inhyuk smiled mischievously at you as if he couldn’t believe, but didn’t disapprove, of the song's lyrics speaking so openly about desire, about opening locked doors into seeing stars and asking for more. And you kept smiling and drinking. Because you made a deal with yourself and maybe tonight was the perfect time to go into a new direction.

The song was only three minutes long, but it drove Yoongi to a corner. He gripped his tonic water and faced the bar while the music kept calling to him, Come here more, let’s play more.

Just like the first time he heard it and was covered in goosebumps, wild thoughts coming to him that he had to quickly water down. He sighed; it didn’t stop him from flying back as soon as possible to talk to you about it. Confront you, more like.

He turned to the side to find you by the bar having shots with that guy, and that was it. The full album had played, you had your moment in the spotlight as you should, the artists were having a blast alongside everyone else, and he had had enough of seeing you so close to some guy.

You were on your fourth tequila shot when you felt an arm extend behind you to reach the bar, and you shivered. Not because it was cold; you were sweating from the drinks and the energy of the crowd. No, it was because you knew who it was, even if the arm didn’t touch you.

“We should go,” his voice was steady near your ear even though your head was spinning a little.

“The night is still young!” Inhyuk said as he grinned and grabbed another shot glass, waiting for you to do the same, but despite your giddiness, you hesitated. 

You looked up to Yoongi and saw his neutral beautiful lines, and you understood what he was doing.

The guy saw he was losing you, so he moved closer to get your attention, “I can take you home.”

He said it with amusement, like a tease, and you grinned. You were taken by the energy between you two; you both knew where that was going. But then a breath being slowly heaved behind you shook your foundations and you looked down. Yoongi was just doing his part of the deal, but suddenly you were fucking pissed. He couldn’t possibly understand that you needed to be with someone, anyone other than him. Desperately, before you’d fucking combust!

But he was your coworker, the genius producer of your label. And despite everything, you didn’t want to burn a bridge. Inhyuk was not that great anyway.

You shrugged almost innocently, “Maybe next time. It was nice meeting you.”

Yoongi pointed so that you’d go ahead to the exit and you did. Yet with every step, something was bubbling up your throat. There was a lump there, blocking you from voicing it while you grabbed your coats, walked the cold night to his car, and got in to be on your way.

The whole ride you argued with yourself that this was for the best. You shouldn’t have sex with someone after so many drinks, that was not how it was supposed to go. But maybe that was what you needed to have the courage to just move on. To want another man as desperately, and not the one driving you home right now. You needed it, you needed to go crazy and do something you wouldn’t normally do. You needed the regret, to stop playing safe, to stop believing your heart knew what was best for you when all it did was set on someone who saw you as nothing but a colleague.

When you arrived, he entered the private parking of your apartment building and parked swiftly. It made your stomach bubble further with anger, he was just so used to taking you home. That was the deal. Well, screw that.

“Thanks, good night.”

You pushed the door open and peeled yourself away, closing it with a bham only to seek support in the car instantly. Your legs were wobbly, the world was spinning and you cursed in irritation. It was fine before, why was it so difficult now?

His door opened and closed, the car beeped as it locked, then his steps echoed to get to you. And everything was like needles prickling your patience. He stood next to you to help you and you didn’t know what you wanted more: to scream at him or to just disappear.

But he placed his hand on your waist firmly, walked you to the lobby and the elevator, and even dialed your code to enter your apartment. It infuriated you — it reminded you of all the times over the last year that he had done his part of the deal. That he had taken you home safe and sound, and still never seen you for anything more while you pined helplessly.

So you tried to reach your living room without his help and stumbled very quickly, yet a firm grip on your arm prevented you from falling face flat. Normally, you would have blushed, thanked him, and let the politeness and decorum dictate your interactions, but not now.

You pulled your arm loose, “I don’t need a chaperone!”

“And I don't need you to fall and break a leg.”

You threw your jacket and purse over your couch finally with a frustrated huff. The world was spinning and annoying you so fucking much. You needed to scream at him once and for all and be done with it, why couldn’t it stand still?

“Why did you interfere?”

“What do you mean?” He was calmly taking his shoes off after hanging his coat by the entrance and his placidness irked you.

“I was having a good time!”

You barely saw the line crossing his face, “He was no good for you.”

“What? Why?!”

“He just wasn’t,” he stated, walking further inside your apartment like he knew it, and he did. He’d normally stay for a chat after bringing you home and made sure you were okay.

“But why?!” You insisted, eyes so wide they looked twice their size, and still the room was shaky. “What was so wrong with him that—”

“He was trying to get you drunk,” he almost scoffed as he reached your kitchen and started looking around for something.

“So?” You tried following him, annoyed that he was not paying attention to you.

He found a cup and right next to it what he was looking for. He took a black coffee capsule and put both things next to your coffee machine. “He just wanted sex.”

He seemed annoyed now as he prepped the coffee and you threw your hands in the air, “I fucking want sex!”

He paused and looked at you, at your wide eyes and red cheeks. And you held your breath, swallowing dryly. Did you just yell that at Min Yoongi? At your genius coproducer?

“You're drunk.”

He pressed the button to draw an espresso from the machine, and you felt like a volcano about to erupt.

“I’m not drunk!!” He didn’t look at you and you gripped your hair with a frustrated scream. “I’m just not only a fucking worker bee, okay?! I have needs, I want things! So what, sex is too much for you to handle or som—”

A look was all it took for you to feel your guts freeze in place. You were so attuned to this fucking man that his slightest hint of disapproval hit you like an icicle. But it wasn’t just that, it was something else. Disappointment?

And you revolted hard against it; he had no right to make you feel this way. “Then what’s the problem?! I can’t want it? Because I’m a woman or something?”

He took the coffee cup and placed it in front of you on the kitchen counter, “Drink it.”

You ignored it, “I didn’t think you were a prude or conservative, but this is me.” You stepped back and fought the traces of the spinning walls vehemently. “I want things. More than just make good music, I’m not just my work.” He was listening, he was looking at you, but all he did was push the cup the slightest in your direction. And you snorted, “Hell, that’s why my music is good. Because I want— I want things.”

You couldn’t look at him, only at his feet. You thought you wanted to scream your frustration at him, but now you realized that was pointless. It wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t into you anyway.

“We’re not talking unless you’re sober.”

You raised your eyes and his coolness hardened you. Right. You’d get a slap on the wrist for getting drunk at the listening party of the album you fucking produced. For wanting to sleep with another producer. For not being professional? Who the fuck knew why. And maybe sober you’d care about losing your dream, but right now you were just fucking done.

“Right, whatever,” you turned to head to your bedroom. “I’ll take a shower, we can talk tomorrow.”

Yoongi saw you walk a bit shakily but firmly toward your bedroom and then he sighed. He considered for a moment to do as you wished and leave, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Selfishly, he didn’t want to wait for tomorrow. He was restless, he needed to talk to you about it. And to do that, he needed you sober.

He grabbed your coffee cup and knocked on the ajar door with his eyes glued to the floor. He called your name and you scoffed.

“You’re taking our deal too much to the letter,” your voice sounded strained and he closed his free hand into a fist. “You don’t need to worry about—”

He heard noises and he didn’t think twice; he pushed the door open and found you almost fallen to the floor trying to take your dress off. You huffed in annoyance; you should have sat on the bed but then how would the dress pass under—

A firm hand hoisted you up as if you were as light as a feather and you came face to face with him. The man in your dreams, in your mind, making you scream in your bed just at the thought of him. Making you crazy. 

“I’m fine,” you said, looking down. “I can handle myself. You don’t need to bring me home and make sure I don’t—” 

Your voice wavered, what were you— 

Your eyes filled with tears, but maybe that was exactly what needed to happen, “Yeah, let’s stop that. Our deal? Let’s end it. You don’t need to bring me home and watch over me. I know I’m a woman in a men-dominated company, but I’m not a child.”

He sighed and stepped away and your heart cracked, leaving you to hide your face with one hand and try to press your chest with the other. You knew that to move on you had to push him away, but damn did it sting and—

The scent of coffee invaded your nose and you raised your hand from over your eyes. He was holding the coffee cup in front of you.

“Stop for a second and drink it. Then, we’ll talk.”

You looked for the sincerity in his eyes, and of course, you found it. So you took the cup and chugged the espresso as if it had been just another tequila shot. Then you lowered your arm and looked at him, trying to sense if that changed anything. It didn’t really, not for you.

“Did you hear what I said?”

His lips twitched, “I heard you, but you’re not hearing me. Sober, I said.”

You shrugged, “You said drink, I did. So now we talk. No more deal. No more keeping me safe, no more watching over me or bringing me home. I need to— I need to let it all out.”

His lips pursed for a second but then he voiced quietly, “I’m listening.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” you shrugged and almost laughed at yourself. “I told you I want things.”

“You write about what you want.” You hummed. “So what is that main track?”

“What I want.”

You were looking at him, a void in your mind all of a sudden, but he hesitated. You said you wanted sex and the song was about desire. Maybe he was reading it wrong.

“What do you want?”

“It’s not a what.”

“Is it a who?”

Your mouth dried, so you nodded. You were staring right at the object of your desire but he looked confused.

He scratched his head and then tried, “Did you— Did you use those words on purpose?”

“What words?”

“What w—” He seemed bewildered, “My stage name. You used my stage name. Sugar? Was that on purpose?”

For a split second, you were frozen, livid, shocked, and then laughter bubbled out of you, “I thought I had been so clever about it. Saying sugar instead of suga.” He was staring at you and his inexpression only led you to push the air out of your lungs, “I know, you don’t have to say it. You won't touch me, even if pigs fly. I know that.”

“That's not true.”

You tilted your head, then laughed some more, “Yes, it is. You don't even see me as a woman, I'm just another producer.”

“That's also not true.”

“Right,” you chuckled. “Let me give you reasons to walk out that door right now. I not only wanted to sleep with you but wrote a whole main track about wanting you. About being dazed, overwhelmed by desire, wanting just more. Give it a listen. You know I struggle with titles, but the name of the song was the first thing I had.”

You chuckled again and turned around, rubbing your face for a moment. It was out. You didn’t care too much if anyone else knew, and if anyone had thought of it, they had been smart enough to stay quiet. But now he knew, and there was no going back. Sugar rush ride. You laughed again. You stood by that tile.

“I—” His voice sounded unsure for the first time and you turned to face him. “I don’t— Was it just a rush? You felt a rush at the thought of me and wrote that?”

“What difference does it make?”

“It makes a world of a difference,” he insisted, eyes set on you though he hadn’t moved an inch yet. “I still haven’t heard you say what you want now.”

“What I want?” You were incredulous, “Are you even listening? I’ve been saying nothing else! What?” He was unmoving, but for the first time, you could swear you saw his eyes glistening, and you were out of filters. “I want to be with you. I want you to fuck me already.” You shivered, the strength of your own words working against you. “I have since the day we met. I forgot I had an ex and was heartbroken to finger myself to the thought of you so many times I lost count.” He opened his mouth but you didn’t let him speak, “Shut up. I know what you'll say. I’ve wasted a year of my life. We're kind of friends and we work together. I know all that,” you huffed, exhausted. “So just leave.”

You turned to get to your ensuite bathroom and this time succeeded in pulling the dress out of your body, letting it fall to the ground with a rustle. You turned to reach the makeup remover over your counter and almost missed the way he was still standing in your room, looking at you. You blinked as you faced him, and your nipples hardened without your control with the goosebumps navigating your skin. You had nothing on, you rarely did in events like those. You used it to boost your self-esteem and feel sexy, and now you guessed he knew it too.

You removed your makeup relatively quickly and were curious to look back, and he was gone. You looked down with tears pooling in your eyes; but of course. Why did it all just have to come out of your mouth like that? Now he knew your deepest darkest secrets and would never want to work together again in the future. Great.

You stepped into the shower and let the warmth wash away your worries. You were not a child. You had feelings and wants. They were perhaps misplaced, but you didn’t harm anyone. You sighed; still, maybe it was best to look for a new job in the morning.

Once you made peace with that, your mind wandered to greener pastures, to more heavenly thoughts. You reviewed the expression he had as you told him crudely what you wanted, and it was good. Tense. In your wildest fantasies maybe it could be even a little possessive. And the thought of Min Yoongi getting possessive over you turned you on like nothing ever could.

Your hand trailed south along your skin and avoided the water. Your undeniable arousal made you chuckle. You had just told him you touched yourself thinking of him, and there you were again, like clockwork. He never told you not to, he didn’t act disgusted or look at you sideways, so suddenly you felt egged on.

You tilted your ass up and out of the water and spread your folds greedily, closing your eyes to think back to his dark eyes while you were naked in front of him. It was as if he wasn’t thinking, he was just looking. You didn’t see his eyes running up and down your body, but you didn’t have to. No way he would not be curious, even if he had walked out. 

His leaving stung but fuck, was he hot. Now he knew you thought of him and what you did while thinking of him. Your heart stung for a second with the thought that you would lose his friendship, but you got back on track. You were horny and he had created that mess. You tried to kindly tell him to leave so many times, it wasn’t your fault that he lingered until you were spurting the deepest truths and stripping naked to shower. 

And now he knew. He knew you didn't like wearing underwear when you had formal events, how sensitive your nipples were to the cold, and that you had a small blue birthmark at the end of your back. Fuck. He knew you were a dirty little whore fingering yourself to the thought of his cock buried deep—

Two arms wrapped around you and you moaned, too immersed in your fantasy to be startled. You were thinking about his arms around you, his chest strong for your back to take support, hands trailing down your body to explore with long fingers ready to spell your demise so easily—

His fingers were next to yours cupping your sex and you gasped, squirming away only to be pressed against his firm chest.

“No, continue,” his voice was a taunt as his free hand seemed indecisive about where to settle on your body. “You want to touch yourself? Go on.”

You stammered his name but his fingers were quickly learning from yours how to trace your heat, spread your slick, and make you tremble. You were shaking, half embarrassed, half feverish, until his other hand finally settled on groping your breast harshly and you moaned. You moaned with a hiss dragging with how much more you wanted, with your ass bucking into him only to rub more to get a better feeling of his hard cock on your ass. He was clothed, you could feel it, but the thought of him wanting this was driving you up the wall.

He was coming to you while you showered, entering it with clothes on just to reach you, grab you, touch you, and make you moan. There was no hiding it now, no possible misunderstanding. He had fingers rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your tit harshly, making your legs weak. Nothing was forcing him to stay, to touch you, to listen to you moan.

You bucked your hips again, you were so close to coming it was unstoppable. Yet a logical thought still tried to push through, “Are you sure about this? We're friends— We work tog—”

If only you weren’t rubbing your ass on his crotch to feel him better, to get tighter, to force his fingers on your clit to chase you.

His reply was a whisper to your ear over your wet hair, “You said what you wanted. You can feel how much I agree.”

Your walls squeezed, you were so ready, “You— You want this?”

His hips pushed into you once and you almost fell apart. “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it. I’m asking myself how you never noticed.”

You gripped his hand over your chest and he released the pressure, instantly making you squirm and whine in a complaint. You pressed his hand and he squeezed again, hearing attentively how your moan pitched wantonly. He hummed near your ear, nuzzling your wet skin with a smile adorning his lips. So that was how you liked it.

“No, I—” Your breath hitched with how he was working you and for the second time you thought you would fall apart, but the intensity reeled back to allow you to think. “Not like this. I noticed you treated me differently but I thought it was because I was the only girl in the studio—”

You staggered with a gasp, your body rushing a cold wave under your skin to contrast with the warm water of the shower, but again the sensation eased as the seconds ticked away. And you knew then that it was him, keeping you on the edge and not letting you fall apart. Him with his smooth fingers and nuzzling behind your ear.

“No, not because of that,” his voice was tense as his lips ghosted over your wet neck. “I was… charmed,” he admitted with a chuckle, and when you bucked your hips, he gripped you closer. “But I thought you saw me as a friend.” The thought alone made his lip pull in annoyance, but the slick covering his fingers at your heat soothed him, “I could have done this so many times if you had just asked.”

He bit down on the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck and you screamed, the sting mixing with your pleasure so viscerally that you could have cum on it alone. Only he sensed it too and moved his hand away, dragging yours along so you couldn’t finish it yourself, and you laughed quietly. He was suckling on your skin with meticulous precision and you could only grin widely, euphoric sparks flying out of control inside your belly.

“You could have said something too,” you sounded like you were whining, but you couldn’t stop yourself. He was now licking where he had just marked you and you were trembling, legs so weak it was embarrassing.

He let go and nuzzled along your neck to your spine in between your wet hair, “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. You either want it or you don’t. I thought you’d say something.”

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t ever. You should have known.”

He hummed and leaned back ever so slightly to look at the curve of your ass pressed against him. Then his hand trailed up, lashed by the shower while gently feeling and pressing your soft skin. He couldn’t believe he almost missed this.

“We have to work on that, then.”

You were still smiling when you let your head fall back to his shoulder, “If you did as I said—”

“I'd be out of here without ever getting to touch you,” his annoyance was clear in his voice, and even in the way his fingers pressed less gently. “Without knowing what’s on your mind. No, you,” he wrapped his arm across your torso to gently reach the base of your neck and you looked up, giving him more space. “You are not in charge here.”

He couldn’t have known the way you were grinning. You just let yourself fall further into his embrace, his hand settling on the base of your neck in a way you found comforting. Then he turned you gently to the side and your back hit the cold wall. A hiss came out of your lips quickly, but you were still smiling. Even as his dark eyes scanned you for your reaction, with one hand keeping you still by the neck. You were waiting with a familiar ease on your features, and he relaxed. That was enough.

Suddenly, your feet parted and you were surprised. He had used his foot to spread your legs and the way his free hand was tracing your wet body like he owned it shortcircuited your brain.

“I want to know what this dirty mind of yours has been keeping from me.”

You could hear a hint of eagerness and it was enough, “I won't tell you.”

“You will.” His tone was so sure, like he held the world at his beckoning, that you trembled. You were sure then he would hold yours, turn it upside down, inside out, and you’d love every second of it. “You will tell me every dream of yours, every fantasy, every little filthy fleeting thought. Then maybe we can do something about it.”

“Maybe?” You were eager, his hand was at your lower stomach but seemingly chose to ignore where you ached most.

“Maybe. If that's something you want.”

“I do, I want everything.”

His eyes jumped to yours; he needed to know if that was a spur-of-the-moment blurted line, or if you meant it. All he found were eager glistening eyes. “Everything?”

“Everything,” you confirmed, eyes staring at him like you were seeing stars.

For a split second, he considered that this could not be what he thought it was. Maybe you were still drunk and just talking big, maybe you had no idea what you were saying. But the way you didn’t waver, even as he considered pulling the plug on everything despite being a millimeter away from snapping and making his thoughts come true did sway him. He brushed your jaw once so tenderly and you leaned into his touch. He’d take it easy while he discovered you, there was no rush.

“Alright,” he voiced and lowered his hand. “Show me first.”

“Show you what?” You were eager but you were starting to shiver.

“What you do when you think of me.”

“Didn’t you just catch me doing it?”

“You’re going to look at me this time.”

“Look?” You tilted your head slightly.

“Eyes on me,” his eyebrows twitched.

“Only my eyes?”

“And your thoughts.”

You grinned and looked away but his instant grip over your chin made you look up.

“You sure you want everything?”

You huffed with a sly smile and let your head fall back to the wall, “I’m sure.” His dark gaze was skeptical and your grin widened, “Oh, I want everything, sugar. Be sure not to hold back.”

He looked down to follow your movements and you almost laughed. Your hand was rubbing your clit so you could control your pleasure while his eyes roamed your body, the doubt lingering on his features. You could laugh again, but you didn’t. The way he doubted you was funny because he had no idea how crazy you were about him, but then it occurred to you that you also didn’t know the first thing about him. Did he like to watch? Would he guide you or leave you adrift? He had edged you three times already, did he notice? Did he do it on purpose to drive you crazy? 

Would he do it again?

Where exactly was his line? He was quiet now, eating you with his eyes and absorbing every little detail, from the way you breathed to your tongue peeking through your lips, to the way you gathered your arousal to coat your clit. You gasped ever so softly and his eyes instantly jumped to your face, and your lips twitched. You had him. How was it that you had the powerful Min Yoongi?

“What is going on in there?”

His voice was soothing and low, soft as a caress, and you smiled. “You.”

“Me how?”

“You told me to think about you,” your fingers hastened and you grinned.

“I told you I want to know your thoughts.”

You hummed with a smile and eyed him from head to toe shamelessly. You knew what he told you, what he wanted, but what about what you wanted?

Your fingers picked up the pace as your eyes gained a sly glim, and you thought he saw it. If he didn’t, he at least heard the wet sounds echoing in the bathroom.

“Do it slowly.”

You obeyed, so painfully slowly that your eyelashes fluttered, but what truly got you was the soothing of his features. He looked endeared, all because you did as he told you. He looked so sweet, so adorable, so loveable. You wanted to squeeze his precious cheeks.

So you reached forward to touch his face, but he slapped your hand away harshly, “No.” You bit your lip not to smile but his eyes were just hardening. “I’m still waiting.”

“For?”

You couldn’t help your grin as you squirmed ever so slightly against the wall. His precious dark eyes were so focused on you.

“Me how?”

But he wasn’t paying attention. “You right now.”

It didn’t surprise you that he didn’t become impatient, “Just me standing here?”

Your fingers were ever so quicker, “Stiff as a stick trying to control something that isn’t yours yet.”

His eyes glimmed and your tongue peeked out again to hide your laugh. It was fun seeing him being careful, but when would he actually touch you?

“Didn’t I say slower?”

You instantly did, and the recoil of the feeling had you fluttering your eyes closed.

“Eyes on me,” he sounded angrier now, closer too.

You did open your eyes but pursed your lips; there was still half an arm's distance between you. If he wouldn’t get the hint, then you’d have to do it yourself.

“Strip,” you asked, swallowing dryly.

He scoffed and instantly looked down, “I said slow.”

“If you want it slow, do it yourself.”

It happened so fast you couldn’t process it. Like a rubberband snapping, his hand darted to your neck pulling and pushing hard enough that your head banged the wall but not harshly enough that it hurt you. It did daze you for a second, but your lips just formed a grin until you laughed. 

Two could play that game, apparently, and he looked so fucking hot when he was mad. You loved that his hand stayed put like a necklace, a reminder that he wasn’t touching your heat, but he owned it. Along with your thoughts and your pleasure, he owned you. And that would have been enough to snap you, but what about him?

So you closed your eyes again, blatantly going against what he wanted, and were not surprised when his free hand darted to pinch your hardened nipple. You moaned instantly, facing him with the same challenge, meeting dark eyes that seemed to have given up on making you talk, but not on making you do as you were told.

So every time you blinked, he pinched you. Your nipples, your sides, your ass, earning moans every time, but nothing more, until he snapped again. He jumped on you and you just made your neck more available for him to latch on and bite. Your moan instantly pitched, and it finally seemed worth it. He was squeezing your tits and biting you while you played yourself to his presence, and he finally was involved in it too.

“Don’t come.”

The joke was that you wanted to do as he said, but you couldn’t anymore. Your moans were higher now, just like your daze, and in a second—

He yanked your hand away, “That’s enough.”

“Why? Didn’t you want to see what happens when I think of you?”

Your voice was light but your chest heaving gave your state away, and the more he kissed and bit down your neck, the worse it became. You needed him, needed more than just his thoughts or presence. You gripped his shoulders to bring him closer, you needed—

A whimper pushed out of you as you hid in his neck, but he didn’t stop. You were sure that had to be at least three fingers just pushing into you roughly with no preparation other than your repeated edging. No preparation came, whatsoever, because as soon as they were in, he started pumping his fingers in and out of you at a vicious speed. 

You instantly lost your grip on reality, though not on his shoulders, as even the air seemed to still inside your lungs. The sultry sounds echoing around you didn’t just come from his digits beckoning you closer insanely fast, but also from your whimpers. Because there was a fire burning you from the inside out with every moan as he bit and licked closer to your ear. As your nails sank through his shirt to reach his skin, your legs trembled, and the wall behind you became scorching hot while he pressed you to it.

From deep within your frenzy you couldn’t hear his growl near your ear, or feel the way his drool dripped down your neck or his fingers dag at your skin. He could hear you, pitchy moans quickly becoming an addictive sound, yet this time it was different. Your cunt was squeezing around him like a vice, and the harder it made for him to finger fuck you, the more he wanted to.

“Don’t come,” he grunted right under your ear, but you couldn’t register. You just moaned even more desperately, gripping him to you so hard he thought he’d melt. “You’ll cum when I tell you to.”

He was trying to hold on to something when he pulled away to look at you, but he could see you weren’t listening. You were flushed and panting hastily, avid with your nerves on fire. You could only see him and you had been waiting too long.

“Please,” you sounded a second away from breaking into tears and he admired you for it at that moment. You were so strong for him. And so pliable.

So he kissed your cheek gently and said your name once, taking pleasure from rolling it over his tongue. “Go on, cum.”

And it was all you needed to snap, tears coming to your eyes as your hips convulsed and searched for friction. You didn’t think you needed it because your walls were tensing, and again and again while desperate cries fell from your lips. His fingers calmed down inside you, his breath the same temperature as your blazing cheeks, and you thought a sweet blanket of lethargy would cover you soon.

Only he never stopped fucking you with his fingers, and so you whimpered and tried to push him away weakly.

“Don’t come down,” he murmured to your cheek. “Stay, don’t let it go.” 

Your nails sank on his shoulder blades again as you squinted your eyes shut. Tears roamed your eyes as you tried breathing and pushing through your sensitivity. You could handle your clit being sensitive, but inside you, that was a whole different story. You felt like you had been pounded to perfection, only to be further kneaded into sensations you had never felt before.

You looked at him, eyes droopy with whines coming out of your mouth. Why weren’t you surprised?

“Give me another one,” he asked gently, but you didn’t answer. 

How could you, he twisted his hand to reach into you deeper and your whole core burned. He was relighting a fire you thought had been extinguished, only to leave you breathless, dripping slick down his hand as you moaned between gritted teeth. 

So beautiful, so tense. He wanted to release you. 

“Look at me,” he asked softly, and you did. His eyes gave you a tenderness that made your heart convulse. How could he act sweetly like that, as if half of his hand wasn’t pounding your g-spot to bits? “You’re so good. Doing so well, giving me everything I want.” Your only reply was your moans, but you were listening. “I need you to focus for me.” He leaned to whisper in your ear, “Focus on the tension. You’re so tight around my fingers. Relax, don’t fight it. That’s it, move with me,” his voice was sweeter, and you softened. It was as if he was in it with you. As if he could feel it too. As if he was fucking you and not just sticking his fingers inside you. “You feel so good,” his whisper felt like the highest form of praise, and your moan pitched, melting alongside your nerves. He was so happy at the sound as he traced his lips down your cheek to whisper to the corner of your mouth, “Come with me.”

You moved with him once, twice, seeing in his eyes how much he was seeing and feeling you before looking at his lips, so close. He brushed yours ever so slightly in the hint of a kiss, moving with you as if you were jumping on his cock and not on his digits, and it was what pushed you. You pulled him closer and he let his mouth fall to yours, and your orgasm instantly started, forcing you to swerve so you could moan and breathe as you disintegrated. 

He let you feel your ecstasy to the fullest, biting his lip and feeding off of your release as if it were oxygen. Your trembling lips, your nails that marked his shoulders, your throbbing walls squeezing and gripping around him in sweet delight. All of you like a charming melody, sweet and utopic. Your moans were music until the very last, and by then, he had to taste it.

His free hand cupped your cheek and coaxed you into a sloppy kiss that you instantly reacted to. You were still not there, though, too dazed from the high to realize it fully; until you did. And you gasped. Yoongi’s tongue was licking at your bottom lip gently as if you were a delicacy that needed to be tasted slowly, and you couldn’t believe it.

You parted your lips to let him in and he pressed you even closer, enclosing you in such a euphoric moment you thought you’d pop like a firework. Like a cocoon filled with dazed butterflies with nowhere to go. He was kissing you and your wildest dreams seemed to have just come true. Tears were still hanging onto your waterline, and when he pressed your lips to move away and breathe, you were scared that it had all been a dream.

“So good, you’re so good.”

His voice was calm and tender, and it gave you the courage to open your eyes. He was so close with his eyes roaming your features swiftly, taking in the smallest detail as if he was finally free to. Then he smiled at your wonder, and you were convinced it was a dream.

That notion didn’t dissipate as he reached to the side to grab a towel and dry you with gentleness, enveloping you in the fluffy material as if it were a cloud. You sniffled, drained from the energy that you had just burned away and woozy from his sweet pats as he tried to dry the excess water out of your long hair.

Not even when he took your hand and pulled you back into your bedroom did the haze recede. Instead, you saw him pull the duvet open for you to get in the bed and you lost the towel and got in without a thought. Once you settled in, you did have your first thought: where was he going?

But he was back soon, and you knew in the back of your mind that he was just making the place tidy: getting the coffee cup from the floor to put it on the table, stopping the shower, and shutting the lights. Then he grabbed your towel from the floor and dried his own hair with hastened movements before throwing it aside. His eyes fell on you and your own picked up on the wet spots on his clothes. He was probably cold too.

“Come here,” you voiced hoarsely, staying in a ball to conserve the heat. He instantly stepped to you, but you pouted, “Clothes off first.”

He blinked and looked down, but then smirked and did as you asked. Of course, he couldn’t make your bed humid and uncomfortable with his clothes. Your eyes were on him, unable to separate from the soft unblemished skin revealing itself more and more. His muscles moved as he bent down, wide shoulders and soft biceps trying to hide the strength he had. But you just observed quietly, tucked in the duvet. You could still feel his fingers inside and all around you, pressing and owning you easily. But you could keep a secret, his power and strength were only for you to know.

He lowered his pants and boxers and your eyes glued to him like a magnet. He was hard and pretty, with protruding veins on a thick length that had your imagination doing cartwheels.

Your thoughts were interrupted quickly when he opened the duvet to get beside you and you shivered. You opened your arms and legs to welcome him, and in your haze, you suddenly thought that it all felt so domestic.

He grabbed your hand and pulled it away to tell you he wanted to lie behind you and you agreed instantaneously. His arms wrapped around you just as fast as you rubbed your ass to his crotch, and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your head.

“You must be tired.”

“No,” your voice was a low whimper as his warmth relaxed your nerve ends.

“No?” He sounded amused and soft and you had to admit that his chest was the fluffiest pillow.

“No…”

You didn't want to, but you were slowly dozing off. Slowly, and a bit more with every soothing breath you took together.

You shook and forced your eyes open, “I don't want to fall asleep.”

“Why?”

Your heart beamed and your lips curved; he was still holding you with his mouth to your head.

“Because… it will end,” you admitted, falling deeper into his touch as he nuzzled your hair. Suddenly you realized his boner was half gone. “You didn't come, I haven't touched you yet. I don't want to miss the opportunity.”

“We have tomorrow.”

“You might change your mind.”

“So can you.”

“I won't,” you insisted with a hint of annoyance as you twisted to look back at him.

“I won't either,” he promised calmly, glistening eyes set on you.

Your eyes were closing, the comfort and lethargy were pulling you away. Still, you focused on his lips, “Kiss me.”

He met your lips with no hesitation and you let that sweet touch soothe you. When he pulled away and kissed your nose, you slipped asleep.

When you woke up in the morning, two things made you alert: your soreness and the lack of space. You groaned with the sweet throb between your legs but frowned because something was over you. Turning back, the most precious image graced your vision and made stars twinkle in your eyes.

Min Yoongi was sleeping as quietly as a mouse with an arm around your shoulders as if to keep you tucked in. You brushed his hair aside and his nose twitched, making you instantly melt. Why did he look so sweet asleep? How could he be such a beast as a musician, a genius producer, and a darling in private?

You kept brushing his hair soothingly, thinking that intimately he was not a darling. No, not cute, not sweet. If that throb between your legs meant something, it was that Yoongi was the kind that owned. He owned his music, his process, the studio room, and you, for all you cared. Your finger trailed his cheek as you recalled your words the night before. He said he wanted you, the same as you, and he said he wouldn't change his mind, but what if he did? What if you lost your opportunity the night before?

Maybe you were still half asleep; otherwise, the fact that you were both in bed naked would have meant something. As it stood, you were anxious about what reality could bring. So when he opened his eyes and saw you, your instinct was to kiss him.

You brushed his lips gently but surely, giving him more than enough time and place to push you away if he wanted to. So when he didn't, you became bolder. Your tongue teased the seam of his lips and your hand roamed his chest, and as you got lost, you became vulnerable. 

He waited as long as he could. He let you kiss him, let you press, let you push him a bit back into the pillow, let you cup his jaw, but you never moved away. Never stopped, and never changed your mind. You did say you wanted everything, and he thought he had given you enough time to take it back.

So he grabbed your hair and rolled over you to get on top, pushing his tongue past your lips without asking. And you moaned, instantly weak to him taking something that in all that concerned you belonged to him anyway.

You thought that meant a green light to explore him just as he was doing, passing his hand down your side to your waist, but no. You palmed the expanse of his chest and he interrupted his mission simply to grab your wrists and pull them down. He pressed them once to the mattress, then released one to pass his slender fingers between your breasts and you took the opportunity again. Your hand sneakily went under the sheets to scratch his hip up to his ass, feeling how firm he was over you, yet he caught you before you could squeeze him.

“Stay still.”

He could have been saying good morning, yet you puffed, “Let me.”

“No.”

“But I want to,” you pouted and he nibbled down your neck.

“Too bad.”

You wanted to be good to him; you liked him touching you and his hard cock ever so close to your core did make you hazy with want. But as he kissed and licked and palmed and pressed you from head to toe, you grew impatient. Incredibly so when he turned you belly down to do the same down the length of your spine as if he had all the time in the world. Even more when he raised your ass and spread your legs, nibbling at your ass cheeks and squeezing them roughly. Aggravatingly so when he noticed your wetness dripping down your inner thigh and made it his pastime to try to reach it with his tongue.

“Yoongiiiiii,” you whined at the end of your patience, waves of goosebumps driving you insane as he spread your asscheeks more to reach your wet inner thighs.

“Hmm,” he was having way too much fun.

“Let me touch you too.”

And ruin the fun? “No.”

You whined again, “But I've waited.”

“Not enough.”

“Why not?” You were sulking despite your spasms around nothing. He could feel them without directly touching you, and it drove him to bite and kiss harder. You squirmed at his lack of reply, “How long more?”

“Until I say so.”

You shook your ass half in annoyance half in desperation, “I've waited enough. At least fuck me.”

“No.”

It was as though he was shooing a fly.

“Come on,” you dragged. “Get to the good part.” He snorted but didn't move. “Fuck me, come on.”

“No.”

“But you'll feel so good.”

He sighed with your taste on his tongue, “I know.”

“So do it.”

“Hmmmm.”

You thought there would be progress as he touched your core ever so lightly. But you waited and waited for what felt like an eternity. And although the tip of his fingers explored every nook and cranny slowly and gently, even the embarrassing ones, you were still not closer to what you wanted.

And so you snapped, “I asked you to fuck me.” He hummed, but your tone was assertive, “I won't shut up until you do.”

He changed absolutely nothing, wet fingers dragging to your nipples lightly.  And so you insisted.

“I'm waiting. How long will you keep me waiting? Should I do it myself?”

Your hand moved and he put it in place instantly.

“I can show you how it's done,” your tone became mocking. “In case you’re lost.” His teeth brushed the back of your thigh and you smirked, “If you never used your cock before—”

A slap to your asscheek echoed and you grinned. It was firm, a warning, but what could you do? You always liked to talk big in bed, and you couldn’t miss the opportunity to rile him up.

“Nothing to be ashamed of— If you don't know where to go or what to do— Should I take over?”

Every slap felt like a win and that last one wasn't any different. He gave more of him when he did it, and you felt it in the sting, the touch, the attention. When he grabbed your asscheeks and squeezed until you cried out, you thought that he might be holding back.

“You talk too much,” he said quietly.

“And you fuck too little.”

He pushed you harshly to fall with your belly up and grabbed your head firmly in place, using his body over you to fully press you down the mattress.

“I like to fuck people who indulge me.”

“Liar.” It escaped your lips before you could think. You were too horny to think, but then you laughed, “Fucking liar. You're rock hard, you want to fuck me so bad is not even funny.”

“Your point?”

“You like it,” you whispered, raising your head to reach his lips, which he didn't let happen. You looked into his eyes, “You like what I'm saying. You adore every spank and every little reason I give you to do it.”

His expression didn't change except for the laughter in his eyes, “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Is it a problem?” He seemed cautious. 

“Yoongi,” you sighed. “I said everything.”

His lips finally showed a smile as he got on his forearms to look at you with new eyes.

“But Yoongi,” you called with a pout. “I did wait long enough.”

He grinned widely, so endearingly you wanted to kiss his entire adorable face. So loveable you wanted to drive him crazy.

“You'll wait as long as I tell you to.”

He seemed happy now as he leaned to kiss and play with your chest, pink tongue messing with your perky nipples to the point you squirmed. And it felt good, so good your legs were restless under him, opening but struggling to get him to align. He tortured your nipples, suckling and biting only to smile at your fussiness. You could only take so much.

You squealed, “If you don’t put your cock in me soon I’ll fucking scream.”

“Scream?” He was amused, barely separating his mouth from your breast.

But you sucked in a breath and screamed at the top of your lungs. Only for a second though; his hand covered your mouth and forced you to look at him.

“Shut it.”

He raised his hand carefully with your eyes locked, and all you did was roll your hips to get his cock near your dripping core. You thought he had learned something, so when he moved too but against you, keeping what you wanted purposefully at bay, you decided that holding back was not getting you anywhere.

You threw your head back and screamed again, and when his hand darted to muffle it, you bit it.

You took another breath, but before you could scream his hand wrapped around your neck firmly. You looked into his eyes as lightheadedness relaxed your neck and shoulders. He was so careful, but you were at such ease.

“Are you going to be quiet?”

His fingers were perfect around your throat, “I want to cream your cock so bad.”

Your voice was a wanton whine as your glistening eyes focused on him. You couldn't describe how much you were melting, how much he relaxed you only to tense you up the next second if he so chose to. How much that drove you to want him like crazy.

“Is that a dirty thought?” You nodded once, pleading with your eyes. He nuzzled your nose sweetly, “Not yet.”

“Then I won't be quiet.”

Your voice was gentle like a breeze but carried consequence, and when he nuzzled you further, you knew everything went both ways. He knew it too, and he wasn't stopping you.

You tentatively tried a scream and his hand wrapped firmer, observing you with sparkles in his eyes.

You huffed, cheeks becoming hot, “Why won’t you just do what I want?”

“Why won’t you quiet down?”

“And do your job for you?” 

You could see the smile in his eyes — he knew you were embarrassed. He was just seeing how far you’d go in your brattiness, but you were so horny you were lost. 

“All I’m asking for is your cock, don’t you have one?” He raised an eyebrow at your taunt; you could both feel his hard shaft pressed to your thigh. “So why don’t you shut me up? Do you need me to tell you how to use your dick?”

“Just because you’re needy and desperate, it doesn’t mean you should get what you want.”

The burn traveled to your chest; he was scolding you and it was like you’d been shaken. Of course, he’d answer you and deal with your attitude. You never thought he’d be the type to let it fly but to actually have him doing it was burning you from the inside out.

“But what I want is you,” you sighed, batting your eyelashes flagrantly. “Let me get on my knees, I’ll do whatever you like.”

He took only a second, “No, I like where you are.” You grinned in absolute joy; you also loved being under him with his hand around your neck. You felt taken care of and grounded, even as your mind became chaotic in the hazyness. “And there goes another dirty thought, hm?”

You bit your lip, “In my fantasies you always give it to me so right.”

“This isn’t a fantasy anymore.”

You grinned, “No, thank fuck. You look so much better pissed off in real life.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You want to piss me off?”

You almost laughed, “I want you to fuck me.”

“I never said I wouldn't,” he adjusted his hips but purposefully made it impossible for you to have him, and you squinted. He was smiling, “I just told you to wait.”

“And I told you I’d scream.”

You were snappy and he grinned, “Can’t we be civilized about this?”

His lips ghosted you and your chest burned again, “Nothing civilized about the way I want you to fuck me senseless.”

Your voice was wanton, bordering a moan as your hips rolled just to feel the tease of his cock near your core, and he kissed down your chin, “So you’ll scream?”

“Like hell.”

“No changing your mind?”

“Fuck no. Stop stalling,” you whined, moving your spread legs in the hopes of catching him, but he only chuckled.

“Go on, then.”

He got off you and you huffed in annoyance and screamed. It was short and you opened your eyes to see him just observing you with amusement. Why was it so funny to him when you were getting upset?

So you took a deep breath and screamed again and this time your lips pulled in a smile because what the heck were you doing?

“That’s it?”

His taunt had you take a deep breath and scream again, only to fall short. You covered your eyes and stifled a laugh. It reminded you of how you screamed on roller coasters.

“You must not have enough reasons to scream yet.”

You bit your lip, imagining the reasons you could have, the ways he could make you scream. The bed dipped next to you but you stayed in your reverie. In it, Yoongi touched you. He slapped your cunt with his cock and promised to use you. He grabbed you by the neck while he pounded into you so hard you saw stars.

You huffed in impatience, neediness making you bold; you were about to sit up and do something when you stopped. He was throwing his leg over you and his cock was so close your eyes nearly crossed. He grabbed your head in place, but you were staring, fixed, jaw falling open and lax instantly. You could pretend you wanted to scream more but you were just salivating, so when he aimed his cock at you, you just met him halfway.

His taste hit your buds quickly and moved to reach your throat, and you lost it. Your eyes rolled as you closed them, the salty traces leaving you dizzy, and the way he pushed himself down your throat made you squirm in waves of pleasure. It felt hot and intense and wild as he did it again and again, each time getting a better sense of how much you could take. You barely cared about breathing; he was finally using your mouth, fucking you, showing you how much he wanted you without holding back, and with each push, he made you feel better than the last. Elated, special — he was groaning and getting riled up down your throat because you made him feel that good.

Suddenly, he pulled back and you followed him as long as you could before he grabbed your arms and raised them above your head to stop you. He had heard you choke so he was probably worried, but you only sighed in impatience.

“So greedy,” he taunted, pressing your wrists down firmly. But he had a glint in his eyes — he was paying attention to you. Not worried, just caring.

“Aren’t you learning?” You said as you tried not to melt, but it was too late. He chuckled and his smile made you happy. “Keep going,” you asked softly, despite the tears running down to your hairline. “Please.”

He brushed his thumbs on your wrists for a second with his eyes set on you. You were such a handful and he couldn’t love it any better. Asking for him like that secretly drove him crazy, and made him want to give you everything you could ever wish for, no matter what. So when you leaned back and opened your mouth, it was his pleasure to stuff it with his dick. He grabbed your wrists more firmly and supported his weight on them to help him lean forward and give you the fucking you craved.

Time and time again he snapped his hips to get his cock down your throat, and it was challenging. His muscles were burning, but so were his lower stomach and balls as he tried not to come. You moaned and choked and bounced as he fucked your head into the mattress, and yet you were totally relaxed. Your arms and hands were still, calm as you got used and loved it. And he loved it too, but for your first time together and after skipping it the night before, he thought this time he wanted more.

He pulled away from you and it took you a second, but you instantly sulked. He settled between your legs as you cleaned the drool, “So I’m not going to swallow the sugar rush?”

He chuckled, “No, not this time.” You pursed your lips and were about to whine about him stopping so soon when he asked, “Do you have a condom?”

Your eyes widened and you instantly scrammed to conjure up one. Shit, shit shit, you thought as you turned your room upside down, then your toiletries, then your bathroom. Why the fuck didn’t you have one? Well, sure, you knew why, but you were so angry now. You could not miss this opportunity!

You turned to your kitchen, desperate at that point until you gasped. You searched for your first aid box and dug until you finally found a lost wrapper. You waved it victoriously as you strode back to your room and to bed, and Yoongi was there to receive you with a look you couldn’t identify. He grabbed your arm and threw you on the bed before pinning you down from between your legs and kissing you till you lost your breath.

If he wanted to fuck you before, now he wanted to screw you so hard you’d only ever remember his cock. To think you said you wanted to be with him the whole last year, and that you hadn’t been with anyone else because of it made him wild. Why had you both played it so safe? He had been to your apartment so many times, set you to sleep on that very same bed, and yet never once did he get the inkling that you wanted him. Not as he wanted you. But just now, you were dripping with how much you wanted him, squirming, begging for him to fuck you, and trying to rile him up so he would. You jolted at his fingers in your folds, rubbing your chest to his for any hint of a touch, moaning when he pulled your head back by your hair. You wanted him bad and he was going to give it to you.

He pulled away from you and you almost screamed in frustration, but seeing him putting the condom on cooled you just enough to stay quiet. Your hands even stayed above your head voluntarily as you waited patiently, thinking he wouldn’t waste that condom, he’d surely fuck you finally.

You moaned suddenly and looked down, confused for a second, but you weren’t dreaming. He was grabbing his cock and slapping your cunt with it right over your clit. You squirmed with need, but he kept doing it harder and harder, wet sounds echoing with your excitement.

“Fuck, I just knew it,” you mumbled, clenching around nothing right before his eyes.

“Knew what?”

“That you’d do that,” you moaned, hands tightly gripping each other so you would stay put.

He hummed as he did it quicker, seeing your slick connect to his cock, “That so? What else do you think I’ll do?”

You were burning all the way to your shoulders, trying to move with him so that his cock could give you friction, and he didn’t stop you. So you answered through gritted teeth, “Stick it in, get deep, fucking use me until I’m stuffed with your cum.”

Your voice disappeared with the lack of breath; he was dragging his cock over your clit now and it was the sweetest reward. 

“Filthy thoughts you’re having, hmm?” You were lost in your motion, rolling your hips to earn that friction so you gasped when he pushed his cock inside you, loving the burn as your core split to accommodate his girth. “Read my fucking mind.”

You screamed when he bottomed out, biting your lip with the way he was forcing himself inside you. Then you opened your eyes to see him and instantly clenched around him, and he smirked. 

“Been thinking about fucking me, huh?” You could barely hold a thought, but the opportunity to tease him was too sweet.

“It has crossed my mind,” he said and snapped his hips, and you didn’t know whether to gasp or moan. He’d hit you deep and hard, you knew he would, and it made you even tighter. His nails dag at your hips, “So many times.” He was starting slow but deep and you could do nothing but moan. “How you would moan, what you would want, how you would give in and let me take you,” every wish was pointed by a deep thrust. “Now look at you.” You looked down: your tits were bouncing with every hit, gushing sounds echoed along with your moans from how wet your heat was, and the sight of his thick cock pushing between your slit to enter you was the cherry on top. It was the can of cream about to blow you full, and you wanted to get filled. “Almost cuming even though I’ve barely started.”

“Cause you feel so good,” you breathed in a moan.

He leaned to grope your taunting tits, “You told me to use you.”

“Fuck, please.”

He gritted his teeth and adjusted you better so he could pick up the pace. And what a vicious pace it was, fast and steady, leaving you so hazed and lost, that you had no words. He slapped your tits around and you clenched, tears roaming your eyes with how good and sweet it was. It didn’t hurt, every touch sparkled pleasure in your veins, and the sight of him hitting and scratching, his squeezes on every bit of you only made you even more sensitive. More elated and euphoric, so much so you were mumbling more with every moan involuntarily. He was slapping and roughly marking your chest as you asked, and suddenly you threw your head back and looked at him.

“Harder,” you asked out of breath, and he slapped your tit so hard you screamed before moaning deeply. “Just not my face.”

You thought to tell him from within a glimpse of logic, and he nodded and took note of your limit. Instead, he leaned forward and groped both boobs again and you squirmed desperately.

“Squeeze,” you breathed, your moan pitching. He did, but it wasn’t enough, “Please!”

He did, a bit harder with every thrust into your messy cunt. It was maybe selfish, but he wanted to see how you unraveled. How you wanted those strong sensations, how you craved something more intense each time and with every bit of strength, you transformed it into a beautiful pleasure that had you bursting.

He saw you coming again, writhing around thoughtlessly with the intensity of your pleasure, so hard he didn’t have to look down to see you throbbing around his cock. He still did though, mesmerized by it, only to chuckle. You had left a ring of white around the base of his cock; you just had to have your way in the end.

He leaned in to kiss you through your haze, slowly sensing with his lips the condition you were in. At first, your reaction was delayed, the brush of your lips falling behind as you recovered. But then you reacted and pushed back against his tongue, and he knew you were good.

He pulled back and turned you around, and you helped and got on all fours instantly. He didn’t wait, he aimed his cock at you and entered your velvety embrace as soon as he could. You arched your back for him and pressed back into him a couple of times to feel him deeper, and he grinned.

“Finally. So obedient,” he taunted, squeezing your ass cheeks to spread for him.

“You’re finally fucking me senseless.”

Your voice was a whisper, and he smirked. You asked him to use you, and he was doing a good job at it. But now he wanted to make you scream, to mark you so hard you’d never be anything but his. He couldn’t help it; now that his cock was shoved deep inside you, he didn’t want anything else. Now that he knew what you tasted like, what you sounded like, and how filthy your mind and mouth could be, he wanted nothing else. He saw you trying to get him deeper, huffing and puffing as you swayed with him, and his chest tightened. The possessiveness you were inspiring in him was raw and dangerous, but he didn’t want to fight it.

So he gave you both what you wanted: he smacked your ass as he pounded into you, seeing the way it bounced in either direction until he couldn’t focus anymore. Until he was desperate to own you, to hear you scream, to know you’d beg for him forever. It wasn’t enough; no matter how hard you screamed, he wanted more and he wanted it to last. 

Grabbing your hair to pull it into showing the beautiful curve of your neck was a mistake, though. Suddenly he saw how beautiful you were, vulnerable and immersed in every sensation he gave you. He wanted you to be his, and suddenly it hit him that you already were. And you loved it.

And it snapped his senses, overthrowing his strong grip on his pleasure as if he had never had any. He became sloppy but still held on to your hips to sink and cum as deeply inside you as he possibly could. He groaned with every peak, jerking to milk the sensation between your tight walls as best as he could until he stilled. Fuck, how the hell did you do that to him?

He noticed then you were trembling and his priorities immediately surfaced, “Are you okay?”

You hummed, but he wasn’t having it. He pulled out despite your whine and helped you to softly lay on your side. Then he hopped off the bed, dealt with the condom, and searched around for water and a snack.

You were still stunned, out from the intensity of the emotions that had tensed and relaxed your body simultaneously. Your soul didn’t know how to handle what just happened, and the only thing that occurred to you before he came back was that you had totally surrendered. You didn’t force yourself to be tame and quiet, or said and did what the other person wanted so you wouldn’t ruin it for them. You were yourself, through and through, and Yoongi fucking ate you up like dessert.

The bed dipped behind you and you turned to him, sighing happily when he pulled you in to snuggle.

“Here — water and chocolate.”

You glanced at the bottle and bar and smiled widely. Your heart was right all along, and although you knew it was definitely too soon, there were special words at the tip of your tongue trying to get out.

Instead, you let him insist and sit you up to take a sip of water and a bite before letting you fall back into his arms in a sweaty embrace that you wanted with all your heart.

He was kissing your head and tracing your arm quietly when you decided to tell him, “Next time cover me with cum.”

He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you, and you pouted.

“Just… You wanted to know what I think about.”

“You think about that?”

“Sometimes.”

He smirked and squeezed you inside his arms, “What else have you been hiding from me?”

“You have no idea,” you laughed.

You were melting and relaxing into his touch as he pecked your head when he whispered, “Are we bad?”

Your heart hurt for a second, what? But then you realized what he was saying: your song. When you wrote a conversation you once imagined you both could have had:

You're bad, you liar. 

It's me who's bad, I know this bad desire, sugar.

So you chuckled and sang along to the melody, “What did you do to me, sugar?”

[shadowkoo]

Oh, Brother!

→ Summary: Things are bound to get messy when you fuck your brother’s best friend repeatedly. Better not get caught, for both of your sakes.

↠ jungkook x f.reader | 1.8k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, off limits younger sister, college au, pwp

→ Warnings: explicit and unprotected sex, dirty bathroom quickie, flashbacks to hooking up the night before, koo fucks you hard from behind, riding on his fingers, sloppy handjob, i think that’s it but let me know if i missed any!!

→ Author Note: part 1 of the oh! chronicles, view the series masterlist here. and join my taglist here!

⋆˙⟡ m.list ⟡⋆⟡ ao3 ⟡⋆⟡ wips ⟡⋆⟡ updates ⟡⋆⟡ shadow realm ⟡˙⋆

“You didn’t say Jungkook was coming,” you say nervously after noticing him with the rest of your friend group at the bar. Fuck.

Your brother gives you a weird look, “Since when is that an issue? You’ve always gotten along with ‘Kook.”

You attempt to relax your shoulders and do your best to look as innocent as possible.

“Did something happen? Did he do something to you?” Jaemin quizzes you, failing to hide his ‘concerned brother’ act.

“No…Of course not!” Phantom kisses on your neck remind you that your statement couldn’t be farther from the truth. Jungkook did more than something to you last night, the faint bruises on your inner thighs and the soreness you feel today prove just how much he did��

Unsurprisingly, Jungkook immediately notices that his best friend has arrived with his ‘off-limits’ sister. Though you weren’t so off-limits last night…

Holding your stare, his lip curls up just the slightest into a very familiar smirk, one that he knows happens to drive you crazy.

“Hey man, we missed you last night,” Jaemin says, going in for the typical half-hug all guys do for whatever reason.

“Bro, no you didn’t,” Jungkook jokes, “You might’ve had an actual chance with the ladies since I took off so soon.”

“Fuck you,” Jaemin laughs, “I’m gonna grab a drink, you guys want anything?”

Jungkook lifts the beer bottle in his hand, “I’m good.”

“Same here, I’ll grab one when I’m, uh… ready.” Jungkook hasn’t stopped looking at you yet, causing you to stumble over your words.

Jaemin squints at the two of you, “You’re both acting so weird today.”

Jungkook tenses beside you, his body going stiff for just a moment, but his expression remains unreadable, refusing to spill any of the secrets swirling beneath the surface. It's as if he's mastered the art of control, locking away whatever turmoil or guilt threatens to slip through. Yet, the subtle clench of his jaw and the tightness in his posture tell you there’s more simmering just beneath his calm exterior.

“Kinda feels like an off-day,” he says, trying to play it cool. “Remind me to stick the next party out, will you?”

Jaemin’s normal smile returns. “Yeah because we both know how well you listen to me. I’ll be back in a bit. Relax, have some fun,” he says to you, knowing that you’ll try to find an empty corner to claim as your own sooner rather than later.

“So what then,” Jungkook starts when your brother is just out of earshot, “Are we going to pretend that last night never happened?”

“Wouldn’t that be the smart thing to do?”

“No.”

“No?” You’re surprised at his answer.

He pulls you aside, out of the eye of everyone you know, and kisses you hard. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” You don’t answer so he kisses you again, this time his tongue lingers on yours.

“Is that what you want?” he says after pulling back.

“No,” you breathe.

“Then tell me,” he urges, pushing you up against the wall, “What is it that you want, Y/N?”

You’re the one that pulls him in for another gut-twisting kiss this time. But it’s short-lived.

“What do you want,” he urges again, his hands gripping your sides causing your insides to melt all over.

“I want this,” you whine, running your hand over the front of his jeans, feeling his length pressing hard against the ungiving material, “I want you.”

“I could get used to hearing that,” he growls in your ear as he pulls you towards the bathroom that’s just around the corner.

His words trigger an instant flashback to last night, pulling you back to the moments that still cling to your mind. The thick tension, the rushing adrenaline, the way everything had unraveled so quickly—it all comes rushing back. 

Jungkook’s rough fingers tease your opening, gliding across your warmth with ease.

“Mmm. I could get used to this,” he smirks, enjoying the pleasure painted on your face as you lay sprawled out on your bed.

He hasn’t got a clue how he ended up this lucky. Just a few minutes ago he was hiding from a one-night-stand gone wrong, and now here he is, doing the unimaginable with his best friend’s little sister.

Though you aren’t so ‘little’ anymore, college has made sure of that.

Gone are the awkward haircuts, the childish features, and the gangly limbs that once defined you. In their place stands someone entirely transformed—sharp cheekbones, full lips (that are gorgeously parted right now), and an air of quiet confidence that wasn’t there before.

Your eyes, once wide with innocence, now hold a depth and intensity that speak of naughty experiences; experiences that now define a certain sparkle he discovers once he curls his fingers inside of you.

“Well don’t. This isn’t going to end well. You and I both know it,” you pant as his lips trail lower and lower along your bare chest until he’s hovering above your hardening nipples.

This is such a bad idea…

“Does that matter?” He questions, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“Shouldn’t it?” You lean up on your elbows to look at him.

He pulls back to return your gaze, “It’s not like anyone has to know. Are you going to tell?” His voice is low, almost a whisper, daring you to break the silence hanging between you. The weight of his question lingers in the air, thick with the unspoken consequences.

You shake your head, but it feels like more than just an answer—it’s a surrender. No, you’re not going to tell. You can’t. The secret is now yours to keep forever, whatever happens tonight is just between the two of you.

“Exactly, so can we continue?”

This time, you nod, a hint of mischief curling at the edges of your lips. What’s the harm in indulging in a little secret fun? The thrill of keeping something just for yourselves sends a rush through you, making the moment feel even more electrifying.

There’s a rebellious allure in the secrecy, a temptation in knowing no one else has to find out. Your pulse quickens at the thought, excitement mingling with the danger of being caught, but you push that aside. 

Right now, it feels too good to care.

He gently lifts a hand to cup your cheek, his touch warm and tender. His lips brush against yours in a soft, fleeting kiss that lingers just long enough to stir something inside you. But then it deepens, growing more intense, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as the kiss intensifies. The fluttering in your stomach turns into a full rush of adrenaline, making your pulse race as you lean into him, lost in the moment.

“Wait,” you say in between his kisses, “Won’t they miss you down at the party?”

Jungkook chuckles as he pulls back once again, “They think I left to avoid Raina. And yes, before you ask, I’ll sneak out after. Now do you want to keep going, or should I leave now?”

“Don’t you dare leave,” you say, pulling him into another quick kiss, “I want this. I want you.”

Jungkook works his way back down your body, leaving warm kisses on your breasts, down your stomach, only to stop just above the waistband of your panties. His fingers slide underneath the fabric and linger where they once were. He looks up at you for permission to touch you again, which you quickly grant in need of feeling him feeling you.

You reach for him as his fingers dip into you, stretching you for what is to come. Jungkook hisses as your cold hand slips into his boxers, tugging on his half-hard length. Your lips move to his neck when he adds another finger inside of you, your head feeling fuzzy from the growing knot in your stomach. His mouth presses hard against yours as he flips you over so you’re on top of his hips. The perfect position for you to grind into his quickening fingers.

“Take this off,” he whispers, pulling at the back of your bra until it unhooks. Once rid of the lacy piece, he moves to your panties. Stripping off your final layers of clothing, you bare yourselves before climbing back into each other’s arms.

Jungkook’s kisses turn lazy as your body moves along on his girth, his breath catching in the back of his throat at how wonderful your wet center feels against his hardening length. Perching above him, you align yourselves before lowering slowly onto him.

The deep groan that leaves his lips could have been enough to send you over the edge just then. Especially as his arms encircle around your back while you bounce on him, throwing your head back at how good this feels, despite how bad it is that you’re fucking your brother’s best friend. 

None of that matters right now.

Jungkook flips you over and lifts your ass in the air so he can take you from behind. You have zero complaints. Clenching around his thick, throbbing member, your inner walls pulsate with each deep thrust. 

“Oh my god, Jungkook,” you pant, “Right there, please. Right there!”

His member stretches your insides as he continues to pound into you from behind, filling you in the best way possible, expanding parts of you that you didn’t know could. His thrusts meet you with perfect precision and accuracy, bringing you so close to that edge again.

One of his hands wraps around your front, and the small circles he rubs in between your legs are exactly what you need. The coil snaps, sending you over the edge and into a spiral of hot pleasure, Jungkook following right behind you.

You lay there catching your breath while listening to each other’s beating hearts, ignoring the sounds of the party lingering on outside your bedroom door as you drift into a well-needed sleep. Tomorrow you can deal with the whole brother’s best friend thing.

The recent memory fades as you’re brought back to the present where Jungkook has you in a small, and probably hazardous, dingy bar bathroom. His lips replace the phantom kisses you felt earlier as he lifts you onto the sink counter.

“Hurry,” you whine while quickly undoing his jeans, silently praying that none of your friends notice the sudden absence of you and him. Hoping the shadows and noise of the crowd will keep your escape unnoticed. The last thing you need is for anyone to start asking questions, or worse, to catch on to what’s happening.

You prepare yourself for the good time you know is coming, and grip the sink tightly so you don’t crash into the mirror behind you from his powerful thrusts.

The bathroom door opens suddenly, and a pissed-off-looking Jaemin is standing there. His eyes drift to you sitting on the bathroom sink with your dress hiked up, then to Jungkook, standing in between your open, exposed legs, with his jeans loosened around his waist.

Jaemin’s face flushes crimson, the fury unmistakable as his eyes lock onto the scene unfolding before him. His fists clench at his sides, every muscle in his body tensing with barely contained rage. 

Across from him, Jungkook lets out a nervous laugh, the tension crackling in the air around them.

“Oh, brother….”

⋆˙⟡ m.list ⟡⋆⟡ ao3 ⟡⋆⟡ wips ⟡⋆⟡ updates ⟡⋆⟡ shadow realm ⟡˙⋆

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[wife-of-all-dilfs]

could you do finnick odair giving you head? i loved your last fanfic!

of course! thank you so much <3

forbidden fruit | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick was your mentor; intimacy was strictly prohibited. but he just couldn’t help but succumb to your sweet taste. in the training centre, no less.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: oral (fem receiving), fingering, orgasm, finnick is a swallower!!!, swearing, kinda exhibitionism

notes: i just know finnick would be like a god at giving head. sorry it was a bit short; i had another wip going on as well. definitely enjoyed writing this though ;)

word count: 1.3k

This was wrong. So very wrong. Finnick was supposed to be your mentor. You were supposed to be doing one-on-one training. But, God, if you said having his tongue lapping between your thighs felt anything but perfection, you would be lying to yourself.

“Oh,” you breathed out. “Fuck, Finnick.”

His muscular arm had swung your leg over his shoulder, allowing him even deeper access to devour you against the wall of the empty Training Centre gymnasium. The lower half of your body had been stripped bare; your clothes discarded to the floor by the man kneeling beneath you.

He traced tight circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue, only stopping to suction his mouth around it and suck. A cacophony of shocked cries and desperate moans left your mouth. You should have known he would be able to make you feel this good. He had a wicked smile and a wicked mouth that could do filthy things.

Teeth nipped gently at your clit, causing your hips to jerk forward with a startled gasp. “Oh my God.”

Finnick removed his head from between your thighs, peering up at your expression with sinful sea-green eyes. Your mouth was slightly agape, brows were drawn together, and cheeks were flushed with a warm pink. His chin and lips were drenched with your juices. He really was devouring you whole.

“Gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he purred, pressing a kiss to the tender flesh of your inner thigh. “I know it feels good but…” His lips trailed up your thigh, getting closer to the place you needed him most. “…we wouldn’t want anyone to find you like this, would we?”

Oh, you knew what would happen if they did. However dangerous the consequences might have been, the idea of someone walking in on Finnick with his face buried in your pussy was exhilarating. Downright arousing.

You weren’t even sure how you ended up in this situation. One minute, you two were practicing hand-to-hand combat and the next, his tongue was exploring your body as you cried out his name in pleasure.

“I’ll be quiet. I—” Suddenly, his tongue was dragging from your soaking hole to the peak of your clit. “Promise.”

Your hand flew to your mouth, dampening the pleasured noises that threatened to escape. Another hand dropped into his hair, fingers interweaving with the messy bronze strands as you tugged him closer. He groaned into your pussy, sending a wave of euphoric vibrations through your body, stimulating the muscles in your stomach that pleaded for a release.

“Sweet girl. Taste so good,” his voice muffled into your skin.

Your heart fluttered at his praise.

And then, before you could even think, Finnick had pulled your other leg over his shoulder, holding you against the wall with pure muscle. He immediately continued his movements, leaving you only seconds to be baffled by his strength.

He flicked his tongue back and forth over your clit, his tongue rough in pressure and wild with speed. Tears were forming in your eyes, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving you. Your stomach was tensing and caving uncontrollably; chest rising and falling with fast, uneven breaths.

Even Finnick seemed to be gaining gratification from getting you to your high, obvious in the frenzied enthusiasm and moans that vibrated against you.

Somehow, he had managed to shift your weight onto one shoulder and dropped a hand to your core. His finger teased at your entrance as he continued working your swollen sensitivity with his tongue. He sunk his long finger into your pussy, instantly curling upwards into that deep, heavenly spot that had you biting your palm and your eyes squeezing shut.

“Fuck!” you cried into your hand.

Multitasking wasn’t a problem for him. He sucked, lapped, and tongued, all while curling and pumping his finger in and out of your hole, knuckles probing at your inner walls as he did. Then he added another finger, and you could feel its effects deep within your stomach.

Clit being assaulted and dripping-wet hole stuffed, your orgasm came creeping into the light. It was building slowly. First to be affected was your mind—your thoughts were utterly immoral. You were light-headed and blood buzzed in your ears.

Next was your lower half. Your thighs clenched around Finnick’s head, hips grinding against his tongue which only encouraged him further on. Then your breaths became shallow, a whine or whimper occasionally escaping with each exhale.

His mouth left your heat, fingers still pumping. “Are you close, sweetheart?” he asked in that carefully crafted seductive voice of his. You nodded frantically, pushing his dishevelled hair from his forehead as he gazed up at you. “Let me hear.”

Your hand fell from your lips. “But you said—”

“Forget what I said.” He leaned into your heat, his words fanning warmth against your pussy. “I want to hear my name coming from that pretty mouth of yours as you come.” An unhindered broken moan echoed around the room as he forcefully plunged his fingers into that spot deep inside you. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

The sound of your pleasure filled the gymnasium. You couldn’t even think about the possibility of someone walking in. Not when a white-hot heat was consuming your entire being.

He returned to your throbbing clit, hungrily sucking it in his mouth as if he were tasting a foreign delicacy. The pressure of his suctioned mouth had the heat feverishly spreading around your body, filling you up before it had the chance to explode. And with another pump of his fingers, a blaze erupted in your stomach.

“Finnick!”

Your moans rose an octave, head falling back against the wall as you repeated his name and strings of curses over and over. Sparks trickled down your legs and to your toes. Immense pleasure crested over every inch of your pulsing body, rendering you immobile in Finnick’s arms. Still, he didn’t stop.

Unbeknownst to you, just the sound of you reaching your climax had him coming undone as well, groaning into your gushing slick as his cock twitched and spurted white ropes in his pants.

He licked a long stripe up your slit, collecting your juices with his tongue. Fuck, he had never tasted anything sweeter. Anything more delicious.

As the wave of bliss began to pass, your tensed body began to relax. Finnick noticed, slipping his fingers from your hole and removing his mouth from your overstimulated clit. He watched as your fatigued body started to crumple in on itself, thankfully having the right idea to help you off his shoulders.

He settled you onto his kneeling lap, creating a wet patch on his pants. Not that he cared—it kind of turned him on again.

You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. How were you supposed to face him after… that? Much to your discomfort, Finnick turned your head to face his with a finger. The dry one, of course. His eyes searched yours with a look you couldn’t quite describe. Worry? Anxiety?

“You regret it?” he asked.

It took you a moment to decide; ultimately, you shook your head. That was the most exhilarating thing you had ever experienced in your life. Saying anything else would be a lie.

He smiled.

“But we shouldn’t do it again,” you said softly.

“No…” he sighed, the smile dropping from his face. “But we will.”

And there it was again—that devilish smirk. You couldn’t resist returning it with a sheepish smile because you knew he was right. You would do it again.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: Happy Tuesday🐵.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“Marta still insists she isn’t responsible for ordering the toner...” you shrug and sigh. You shake your head at the petty office argument. 

Before you can laugh, the guard calls time up. You blink, brought back to the present. Your account of the printer tirade seems even more silly now. 

Your eyes come into focus and you find Steve’s entirely on you. He might not admit it, but you suspect he is lonely. In some way. He’s all but confirmed that he doesn’t get any other visitors. It makes you think of Vaughn. How he must look forward to those days. They might not be the same but they both drew the same lot. 

You go to get up as the guard signals with a tap on his watch. 

“Wait,” he pulls away defiantly, keeping hold of the receiver. You keep yours by your ear. “Will you come back, sweetheart?” 

Your lips part. You’re surprised by the question. The man knows how to keep people off-balance. “What?” 

“You already gotta come all the way here for your brother so why not? I mean, if you really wanna thank me for saving his neck. I’m sure he’ll find a dozen other ways to get himself in a bind,” he shrugs. 

“Rogers,” the guard warns. 

You weigh the hint of a threat in his tone. You don’t think he’s serious but he’ll never say aloud the truth. He’s all by himself in there, even if he moves the rest of them like chess pieces. The urgency of the guard makes you sputter. 

“Sure, uh okay, I’ll try,” you say. 

“Alright,” he surrenders, a glimmer of disappointment, as if he expected more. “See ya next time, then.” 

He hangs up and the guard unhooks his cuffs from the loop. He stands, dwarfing his keeper easily, and follows him away. You’re grateful for the barrier for the first time. 

You get up and you’re led out yourself. What did you just do? You don’t have to see him again. Now you do. You made a promise and a man like that won’t take kindly to breaking it. Shoot. Why did you do this? He’s a criminal and you still have no idea what kind. 

Your heart clenches as you get to the counter and fill out your form. 

“If you really wanna thank me...” his words echo. 

You ask for another form. You don’t want to take the chance that you made things worse for Vaughn. The novelty will wear off. He’ll lose interest and hopefully, he also forgets about your brother. 

You sign the forms and pass them over. It’s a different guard. They don’t react as they read it over. They merely dismiss you as the pit deepens in your stomach. 

⛓️‍💥

You don’t tell Vaughn. If you do, he might be mad. Not just at you, but Steve. If he lashes out at someone like that, you might never see him again. That’s your worst fear. 

The thing about your brother is he might know exactly how things go, what to expect, but it doesn’t keep him from messing up. Even if Steve is watching him back, it wouldn’t stop him from feeling slighted and turning around and breaking his own spine.  

You can only imagine his reaction to your chatting with his fellow inmates. Vaughn only listens to what fits his own narrative. He wouldn’t hear you out, he’d just go off and get himself hurt. 

You attend your usual sibling commiseration. He’s looking better. You’re mostly quiet. You wait for any mention of Steve. Dread it even. He only tells you how the other guys are scared of him. You’re not so sure it’s him making them stay away. 

You say your usual good byes and love yous and you stay put. You wait. Steve appears sooner than the last time. He takes his seat and lifts the receiver. He’s just as stony as before. 

The glimmer in his eye has you reaching for the phone on your side. You gulp. You don’t know anything about him. Only the one thing that should’ve kept you away. He’s a criminal. 

“Hey,” you eke out. 

“Sweetheart,” he greets evenly. 

“It’s... your turn." You state shakily. He lifts a brow and he chuckles. You clear your throat. “I told you about me, now I wanna know about you.” 

“Oh?” He tweaks his head. 

“Look, I’m not going to keep talking to you if--” 

“You’re threatening me?” He challenges. 

“N-no, I just--” 

He laughs again, “oh, sweetheart, you’ve been thinking a lot about this, haven’t you? You miss me already?” 

You frown, “don’t call me that. I didn’t come to be laughed at.” 

“Uh huh, so why did you come?” 

You don’t know how to answer. He knows. He wants to hear you say it. 

“We both know why. That brother of yours is reckless. I can barely keep him on a leash.” He looks you up and down, “does he know you’re here, huh? I don’t think so. Think if he did, he’s be at my cell door getting his neck broke.” 

“Hey, don’t--” 

“No, you don’t, sweetheart. Don’t tell me what to do. And calm down.” He waves away your distress. He glances over towards the guard then back to you. “You’re funny when you get all worked up but don’t go ruining this. For baby brother’s sake and yours.” 

“Please, don’t hurt him,” you murmur softly. “Please.” 

He snickers and rests a hand on the desk, the other on the receiver. He pushes and leans back, his chest puffing out. “Fine, what do you wanna know? I have mess at eight with all the other bums in here and I do about two hundred pushups after dinner.” 

You rub your lips together. His gaze follows the movement. “How long have you been here?” You stare at him, gripping the phone for courage. 

He rolls his tongue against the inside of his lip and shifts the receiver in his hand. He crosses his other arm over his chest, gripping his large bicep. 

“Six years.” 

“How long do you have left?” You follow-up quickly. 

“Ah, is that it? You’re anxious to get rid of all this,” he eyes the glass. “That’s sweet--” 

“I just want to know,” you blurt out. Six years isn’t too much but fifteen or more says it all. 

“A long time. The rest of my life unless the board has a change of heart.” 

You watch him, waiting. For a crack, for a tell. He didn’t flinch at all as he tells you he’s stuck there forever. Whatever he did must be bad. 

“For what?” You breath, running your fingers up and down your throat. He watches the nervous gesture before he meets your eye.  

He prickles and sets his shoulders, “You really wanna know? You gotta do something for me first.” 

You blink, “just tell me.” 

“No, that’s not how it works. You do me a favour and I’ll tell you,” he retorts. 

“What? What could I possibly do for you?” 

“You add your number to my roll on your way out.” 

“My... number?” You echo. 

“Lot of time between visits. I get antsy. When I get antsy, I do stupid things. Start fights... so?” He leans forward. He knows he’s won. 

“Fine, you tell me and I’ll do it.” 

“Deal,” he points at you, his elbow on the table. “And don’t test me. I don’t like people who go back on their word. Not even sweet things like you.” 

“I said yes,” you sniff. 

“I didn’t do anything,” he smirks. “But what they say I did...” he shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “murder. Court’s a joke, you know? Lawyers only steal your money. They’ll make more on the appeal. So they let me go down when the other guys say I killed my wife. The interviews for TV pay them better.” He snorts. “Far be it from me to go against the verdict. Especially in here. Better to let people thing I’m a stone-cold killer.” 

You chew on the answer, mulling it with his expression. You can’t tell if he’s lying. Does it matter? He’s still in this place and according to Vaughn, dangerous regardless. If he wasn’t before, he is now. 

“You believe me?” He asks. You don’t answer. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Doesn’t matter either way. We got lots of time for you to figure it out.” 

A frown tugs at your lips, “yeah...” you rub your neck and once more he stares at the movement of your hand. He’s so stoic, you can’t read whether he’s bored or annoyed. 

“I’ve banked lots of phone time,” he swirls his fingers on the desk. “I look forward to our little chats. Be a nice after dinner treat, won’t it?” 

You bit down and twist the phone cord, “why do you want to talk to me?” 

“I’ve been in here six years with stinky men. A nice little bird like you singing to me, that’s something to wake up for. It'll make the time pass,” he says. “See, I’m being honest.” 

You nod and inhale slowly. You drag your hand off the desk and wipe your sweaty palm on your jeans. You’re too far in now. There’s not going back. 

⛓️‍💥

“...so this guy tells me it’s his turn at the bench but I just got on. He didn’t appreciate me testing his strength when I dropped the weight on his jaw,” Steve laughs as you chop celery, his voice crackling from the speaker of your phone. The prison lines are fuzzy at times. He stops and silence rises. You almost think the call cut off. “Why’re you so quiet, sweetheart?” 

“I’m just making dinner,” you answer. “Listening.” 

You don’t like his stories. They’re always violent and you can’t always tell when he’s telling the truth or just trying to scare you. Vaughn said he has other guys do his dirty work. 

“Oh? What are we having?” Steve asks. 

“Stuffed chicken breast with rice,” you reply as you pour the celery off the cutting board. 

“What’s wrong?” He intones. 

“Nothing,” you lie.” 

“What? You don’t seem impressed.” 

“Well, Steve, I’m not a very violent person. I guess I don’t see much to laugh at.” 

He scoffs, “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I was a bad boy.” 

“Steve,” you say. “I just... I don’t like to hear that stuff.” 

“Oh, you worried about me? I can take care of myself.” 

“It’s just not very nice,” you mutter. 

“Not nice? That’s how the yard works. I can’t help that. I don’t like it either but you gotta do that stuff. To survive.” He explains, “but Vaughn, well, we both know he’s no good with change. That’s why he needs someone like me--” 

“I asked you nicely not to mention him,” you say. “How much time do you have left?” 

“Couple minutes,” he drones. “Didn’t mean to get you worked up.” 

“I’m not worked up. I just... I worry.” 

“I know you do, sweetheart. Look, I’ve been here a while. Don’t you worry about me or the baby boy,” he drawls; you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Mm,” you hum. 

He mimics the noise, “you’re not amused? Sweetheart, tell me what you want to hear. How can I make you happy?” 

You cluck, “it’s just... I don’t like it... when you put on a front like that. I’m not an inmate. I... I’d rather you just be honest. I never liked men who can only talk about violence.” 

“Oh, and what kinda man do you like?” 

You look at the phone, “I don’t have a type. Not that it matters.” 

“I can be your type,” he purrs. 

You pause as you reach into the bag of bread. You’re taken aback by his statement. You shake your head. 

“Steve, I should get this in the oven.” 

“Right, time’s running out,” he exhales. “Well, good night sweetheart.” 

“Good night, Steve,” you say pointedly and reach to hang up with your knuckle. 

You sigh and tear up the bread. You can’t believe how far this has gone. He calls every night and you dread it every night. No matter what you do, he doesn’t let up. When you’re quiet, he makes you speak. When you’re curt, he makes you gentle. He demands it and you have no way to deny him. 

It’s hard at times to stomach. He can be patronizing when he wants to. When you don’t perform for him. He always mentions your brother at exactly the right time. To remind you of his power over you or to remind you of your own guilt for lying to your own family. 

Well, he has a whole life sentence ahead of him. He has to get bored eventually. Besides, Vaughn will be out in another two years on good behaviour. 

[gffa]

I'm still trying to navigate my way through the absolute avalanche of Arcane fic, but I am here to scream at everyone about the fics I've loved so far and try to drag a few more of you down into this hellpit of feelings with me. It's nice down here, I promise! Totally normal and with soooo many hinges, nothing off a single hinge here!

JAYVIK RECS:

✦ To love is to risk the soul's quiet by Disguised_Bird, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 32.7k     When an anomaly suddenly transports an older, scarred version of Jayce into the Jayce of Viktor's timeline, the two must navigate the strange collision of past and future while grappling with feelings neither fully understands. As they work late into the night to find a way to send Jayce back, tension turns into intimacy, pushing Viktor to confront vulnerabilities he has spent a lifetime burying.

✦ Say My Name by Acryllic, jayce/viktor, NSFW, eventually post-canon, 77.2k wip     “Tell me now if you don’t want this.” He stroked Viktor’s bottom lip with his thumb, “Keep saying my name if you do.”

✦ This ain't goodbye no more, it just began by SirCumference, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 7.1k     After he and Viktor save the world, Jayce wakes up in his old bed on the day it all started. Things are different, this time.

✦ first times, second goodbyes by tragicperformer, jayce/viktor, NSFW, post-canon, 1.6k     “What do you mean pull out?” He teases, the corners of his lips quirking up into a stupid, dopey grin. “I have separation anxiety.” “Yes, I know,” Viktor intones. “We were just discussing this. It is why I’m currently visiting you, rather than focusing on my duties back in the commune.” “Yeah. And when I pull out, you’re going to leave again,” Jayce rationalizes. Not entirely incorrect. “Just a few minutes. Please, Vik? Let me pretend for a little longer.”

✦ The Threads of Our Mind by Darling_Pigeon, jayce/viktor, post-canon, 3k     Snapshot of Jayce and Viktor’s new life of exploration after the finale: Viktor helps Jayce adjust to his brace, but they discover they may be connected in another, strangely magical way.

✦ Time For Space by yurikazen, jayce/viktor, NSFW, post-canon, 6.6k     First, there’s a wave of blinding light, tearing through the cosmos like a free-falling comet. Then, Jayce opens his eyes to find a smooth, unfamiliar ceiling above his head. (Jayce dies, holding Viktor close to him, yet death is just another beginning.)

✦ two left feet by ChiliCheeseCornDog, jayce/viktor, 4k     Jayce rises from his seat, face set with a soft smile, and holds out his right hand with the palm facing up. “Let me teach you how.” The pause is long and unrelenting. “You are joking,” Viktor manages to say. or: Jayce teaches Viktor how to dance, Piltover-style.

✦ destabilise by antiparticular, jayce/viktor, 3.6k     Jayce was naked and in Viktor's bed. Don't get him wrong - Viktor had dreamed of this happening, both literally and on slow days in the lab when he was feeling particularly self-indulgent, but for it to manifest outside of his overactive imagination? He was half tempted to pinch himself to check he'd actually awoken. Why was Jayce Talis in Viktor's bed? And more pressingly, why did Viktor not remember?

✦ Run It Back Again by Withercrown, jayce/viktor & vander/silco & cast, 18.9k wip     Sometimes there's nothing you can do except scrap the whole experiment and start over. The worst possible outcome becomes an opportunity for a new beginning. Viktor and Jayce, estranged enemies in a brutal war, go back to the start - and then earlier than that. The key to their salvation ends up being an undercity brat named Silco. He's not quite the person they remember.

✦ Electric Desires by abisbookcase, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 1.2k     Viktor gets an important phone call in the middle of sex, and Jayce keeps fucking him roughly, trying to make him slip up while he talks.

✦ Between gears and parties by chaosheadspace, jayce/viktor, 3.6k     "Why do you think it is so hard for people like me to get a footing here?" Viktor asks. "Aside from the obvious classism, of course. I'll tell you. Bureaucracy. Do you know how difficult it is to even find a place to live without a last name up here?” Or: Jayce wants to save his partner some trouble and gets them married on paper.

ZAUNDADS RECS:

✦ Take Me Like You Mean It by Anonymous, vander/silco, NSFW, 2k     Young! Silco and Vander have sex in the alleyway behind the last drop after closing.

✦ Mr Eye of Zaun by limeta, vander/silco & jinx & vi & cast, 28.8k wip     Mylo and Claggor would say there’s nothing that scares Vi. She can dish out punches and evade danger better than anyone. She’s their fearless leader, always ready to take them on a job and back without losing anyone. It’s that level of assurance that they have in her, that confidence she exudes, that makes them trust and believe in her. But they’re wrong. Powder knows there’s something that scares Vi. And that’s because it scares Vander. Or: Silco reads the letter Vander left in the mines and sticks around as a boogeyman in the Last Drop.

✦ let fall the world by perfidiousalbion, vander/silco, nsfw, 4.2k     Or: before it all went wrong, Silco and Vander had something good.

✦ The Lives of Others by Lilbaebloo, vander/silco & ekko & benzo, NSFW, 5.1k     Ekko drops an emotional grenade on Silco and Vander when he brings up their fated night at the river thirteen years earlier. The plunge into the past reminds them both of how far they've come, together and apart, and what they have to keep living for.

✦ The Shore From Which I Fell by ClutchHedonist, vander/silco, NSFW, 1.2k     “I knew you still had it in you.” Silco’s mouth tastes of ash. His tongue, tacky and dry with the suffocating weight of it, threatens to stick to the roof of his mouth as his lips fall shut. He does his best to swallow past the whisper of bruising already blossoming in his throat where Vander’s broad hand has yet again left its mark.

✦ Night Business by spicedrobot, vander/silco, NSFW, rough sex, 2.6k     The rulers of Zaun play a game.

✦ While the world turns around by Blue_Daddys_Girl, vander/silco & jinx & benzo, 8.9k     In a chance meeting Vander sees Silco for the first time since the fateful day he's come to regret so deeply. Silco has changed—they both have. Vander can't stop thinking about him.

TIMEBOMB RECS:

✦ Little Crow by shroomyystar, ekko/jinx, 2.1k     There’s a monster under his bed.

✦ Let's Give It One Last Try by the_whole_shebang, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 12.3k     The war is finally over, and Ekko is finally home, but an old friend has one more favor to ask of him. Jinx found the strength to walk away, but something told her not to let go just yet. Maybe if Vi and Ekko hadn't given up on her yet, then she wouldn't either. Plus, thanks to Ekko, she was starting to think that the past wasn't as set in stone as she though it was.

✦ Let Me Try by Blue_Daddys_Girl, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 4.3k     Ekko walks away from the final battle in a daze after learning that Jinx is dead. Or: An alternate ending to the show, in which she isn't, no matter what Vi believes.

SOMETIMES THE SHIPS AREN'T THE POINT RECS:

✦ wait 'til your sister sees where you've been by QwahaXahn, vi & jinx & cast, post-canon, 12.9k     OR: Jinx falls. The bomb explodes. Everything goes white. ...And Vi wakes up in a different world.

✦ was it the worst you'd never know by Anonymous, jinx & silco, 2.2k     “Fix him,” she demands, voice barely decipherable through the breaking and raspiness from crying. Gentle, gentle, as gentle as Singed knows how to be, which is not very. Jinx will have no qualms killing him if he steps wrong. “He is… very far gone.” And indeed he is. His chest does not rise, and his eyes are vacant. He is gone. “FIX. HIM.” aka jinx refuses to let her father die and brings him to singed. it goes better than expected

✦ Six Weeks Since by argonautoida, jinx & viktor, 2.1k     Six weeks after Silco died, Jinx finally makes a friend.

[gyuwoncheol]

Room Service

↳ A part 2 to 15 Minutes

Pair: Scoups x f!reader

Genre: Smut, Concert!Cheol, husband!Cheol, dom!Cheol, 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: The only thing hornier than pre-concert Cheol is post-concert Cheol. Lucky for you, you’re the only one in the world with an all-access VIP ticket to this immersive experience.

Warnings: Porn with plot, Concert!Cheol, dom!Cheol, daddy kink, breeding kink, big dick!Cheol, pussy drunk!Cheol, cock hungry!reader, so. many. orgasms., quickie sex, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), lots of making out, creampieS, slightly public sex, dick riding, manhandling, pussy slapping (like once), use of color system, overstimulation, body worship, breast/nipple play, hair pulling, spitting, crying during and after sex (but it’s not a kink), dirty talk, use of pet names (my love, baby, princess, baby girl, angel), fluff at the end. Please let me know if i missed something, i can’t remember all the filth. Not thoroughly proofread.

WC: 4.1k

Author's Note: Did I get carried away? Hell yes. is this the filthiest thing I’ve ever written? Could be. Except the other wip I have also for Seungcheol might just beat it. Thank you so much again for the love on 15 Minutes. I hope this 2nd part lives up to it.

Author's 2nd Note: For new readers, you don’t have to read 15 Minutes as this can stand on its own, but it would make more sense if you did read it.

“My good girl.” 

Seungcheol chuckled as he plunged deep into your cunt, his cock pushing through your mixed cum that you so diligently kept in as instructed, “so good at following instructions huh?” 

“Fuck baby, you’re so messy” Cheol cursed, mouth watering at the sight of your stored cum slowly dripping out of your hole as he dragged out his entire length until only the tip was in. You groaned when you felt globs of it trickle down your thigh, your husband’s large hand slowly pushing you down against the back of the couch. You felt him engulf you, his chest against your back, hot breath on your ears, “cat got your tongue, babe?” The man teased just as he thrusted his length back into you, causing more cum to overflow from your hole.

It had only been roughly 30 minutes since the concert finally ended, the boys doing all the post show rituals from changing clothes to shooting backstage content, and as soon as that was over, Seungcheol had all but dragged you to another dressing room, not even saying anything as he unzipped your jeans and dragged your very soiled panties down. Not that you were surprised though, post-concert was always when Cheol was the horniest, with all that adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

You could feel the prominent vein on his cock drag through your walls deliciously as he alternated between slow and fast thrusts, an arm snaked around your torso while hot phrases flew from his mouth.

“Fuck, pussy so tight.” 

“All mine.” 

“I’ll give you all my babies.” 

“Gon’ pump you full.” 

“My good girl so desperate for cum.” 

“Cheol!” You screeched in between moans when you felt him hit that sensitive spot particularly rough.

“Did you watch me tonight, baby? Why weren’t you in the stands?” He asked suddenly, as if he wasn’t still railing you from behind.

“C-couldn’t g-go” you squeaked, willing yourself to form words when all you really wanted to do was whimper in pleasure, “had to… be— behave… fuck!” 

“Behave?” Cheol clarified even though he sensed where this was going. In all the times they rushed backstage in between sets, not once had you moved from your spot, sitting cross legged on top of the large black trunk cases situated right in front of the screen which broadcasted the events on stage.  “Words, baby” he said sweetly yet firmly when he saw you nod eagerly.

“Yes! Behave. Had t-to… k-keep.. shiiiiit,” you groaned, your elbows harshly rubbing on the leather material of the couch after another rough entry of Cheol’s cock, “keep da-daddy’s… cum… in me.” You finished off your defense and you could already see your husband’s smirk without even really looking at him.

“Aren’t. You. Such. An. Angel.” Seungcheol punctuated each word with a deep harsh thrust.

“And all yours.” You punctuated as you looked back at him, both your eyes glazing in lust. The loud sound of skin slapping skin and your pussy squelching at every thrust was unmistakable, the room smelled of sex. The group’s leader was sweating even more than he did when he got off stage, his warmth radiating onto your body as he kept you impossibly close to him, jackhammering his cock in your cunt. 

“Shit shit shit shit..” you cried out loud when his other hand suddenly rubbed fast circles on your clit.

“FUCK!” Seungcheol growled at your release, your pussy clamping down on him so tightly that it triggered his own. He stilled within you in an instant, bodies folded in half against the leather couch, your husband continuously muttering incoherent words as the feeling of your fluttering walls drove him to another level of cloud 9. 

“Yah! You two better eat already if you’re really planning to go all night” Seungkwan scolded in his best mom voice when the both of you entered the buffet area hand in hand.

You hid your face on Cheol’s shoulders, suddenly very aware of all 12 boys looking your way. They were very much aware of what you two had been doing and why you were doing it. In spite of the never ending teasing and playful disgusted looks they give their leader, the members had all told you they were excited for Cheol to become a dad mostly because it meant he’d get off their asses. 

“We’re actually going ahead. We’ll take a different car.” Your husband announced, a gentle squeeze to your hand when some of the boys howled at the implication of both of you going back to the hotel first.

“Really not wasting any time huh?” Soonyoung smirked despite having his mouth full of noodles 

“What? She’s leaving soon!” Seungcheol whined.

“Y/n still has a week left!!” Mingyu corrected with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, still not enough!” Cheol replied. He gave a curt nod to Jeonghan, calling his name firmly as if to say ‘i leave the kids with you.’

“Hyung, seriously, you both have to eat.” DK was next to remind you both as he knows you’re both still running on empty stomachs.

“We’ll get room service,” your husband called out, inching closer towards the exit doors that would lead you to the vans.

“We hope it's the food kind! And maybe let y/n get some real sleep after!” Joshua’s reminder had you giggling, glad enough to know the boys still cared for you even though all you’ve done was hog all of Seungcheol’s free time.

Surprisingly, you had both managed to stay well behaved in the car ride home. If anything, you two were very sweet, your head resting on Cheol’s shoulders as he held your hand through the ride and absentmindedly played with your fingers. 

Even when you had both showered together in the hotel room, your husband did not try to make any advances, he simply cleaned you both up, even giving you a nice massage on your scalp when you lathered your favorite shampoo. 

Contrary to what his members may think, Seungcheol wasn’t too adamant about fucking you all night. He could see how tired you actually are and Mingyu was right, you did still have a week left with him. He just wants to make sure you are cared for like his queen this whole trip, whether that meant blowing your back or giving you 8 hours of sleep, he didn’t mind. 

“Tired, baby?” He asked as he secured the knot on your fluffy hotel robe.

You lazily smiled at him as you settled in bed, pulling him towards you for good measure. “I’m ok.”

“Hungry? Wanna get some food now?” 

“Want you to kiss me.” 

Seungcheol was taken aback by the boldness of your request, not because it was the first time you asked, but because you both have definitely done more than just kissing these past 72 hours. He smiled sheepishly as he climbed over you, settling on your side as his chapped lips kissed your soft ones. You clutched onto his hand on your neck, sighing happily when you felt him deepen the kiss. 

“Someone’s happy,” a low chuckle from your husband.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, “i love your kisses.” Despite the raunchy sex, there was always just something so nice and intimate about kissing your husband. His lips were always so plump against yours and the way he’d hold you securely always made you feel like you meant the world to him. 

“You’re so beautiful, i love you so much,” Seungcheol admired your bare face before sucking on your lower lip.

You moaned out an i love you too but it only got swallowed by the man who couldn’t get enough of you. You climbed on his lap, trapping him in between your legs, taking control of this little makeout session you were having. Inevitably, the more you kissed him, the more your hips moved on its own accord, grinding on Cheol’s robe-covered bottom half. 

You were moving erratically, wanting to chase a high you knew you needed if you were to fit Cheol’s dick again tonight. 

“Daddy, please...” you cried, annoyed that you just couldn’t get to where you wanted to be 

“Please what, baby girl?”

You whined desperately at the dangerously low tone in your ear, “please make me cum.” 

Record time is what you’d call it, the way Seungcheol went from flipping you over to casting your robe open to having his mouth suck on your clit harshly. You couldn’t even process it, all you knew was your throat was straining from how you were screaming his name with how he lapped at your cunt. His tongue licked bold stripes from your hole to your clit before he'd suck the sensitive bud. If there's anything Cheol has perfected, it's his hand-mouth coordination, the way he perfectly syncs his plush lips to suck at your clit while two fingers sink in you and curl to graze that spongy spot inside your walls. It should really have you embarrassed at how quick it could unravel the coil in your stomach. Your orgasm exploding in colorful bursts behind your eyes whilst soaking your husband's face in a mess. 

"I forgot how sweet you fucking taste," he groaned, slurping the juices leaking from your hole. He peeked up at you from where he was, your mouth agape and chest rising and falling while your fingers still gripped on his hair. You were hissing from oversensitivity but you should've known that post-concert Cheol was a starved man. When he deemed he had swallowed all of you, three fingers prodded at your entrance that had you arching your back from the bed only to be pushed down with your husband's free arm. "Stay still, baby. Daddy's not done yet." 

"Fuuuuuuck, " you panted, going delirious from the overstimulation your pussy was feeling. You writhed in vain as Cheol smothered your cunt like a full course meal. When you tried to squirm away, he delivered a slap to your pussy that sent shocks all over your body. "I'm cu- fuck! I'm cumming," you shuddered, thighs closing in on your husband's head. 

Seungcheol chuckled at your state, a proud grin across his face when he finally settled beside you. After pulling back to back orgasms from you in less than 10 minutes, he knew you were oversensitive and just needed to not be touched. "You okay, my love?" 

"Just.." you panted, "Just a minute." 

You rolled over on your stomach when you regained enough strength, and slowly but surely got on your wobbly knees to climb on your husband's thick thighs. Seungcheol wanted to squeeze your bare breasts but seeing as you were still slightly swaying, he decided to hold you securely by the waist. "what're you doing?" He mused while watching you fumble with the knot of his robe. 

His dick twitched at the sight of your lust blown, hooded eyes. "Daddy..." You smiled, god, you were so far gone, "Wanna ride you." 

Seungcheol moaned, hurriedly helping you untie his robe and throwing it to the floor. You salivated at the sight of his hard cock slapping against his stomach, red tip leaking with precum. Anchoring your palms on his chest, you kept your eyes trained on him as you sucked on your tongue before letting some of your saliva drool onto his length, your hand immediately gripping and spreading the fluid along his shaft, thumb grazing at the slit.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, hips bucking into your hand on instinct. A wicked smile crossed your face, delighted with the effect your actions had on him.

Cheol's eyes rolled to the back of his head when you finally let your pussy glide against his cock, coating it even more in your wetness.

"Fuck baby, what's gotten into you?" He hissed as you picked up your pace, grinding his cock against your wet folds, always making sure to let the tip kiss your clit when you move down. "So fucking needy for daddy's cock huh?" 

You moaned when one of his large hand squeezed your right breast and his dick leaked more precum onto his stomach. The sight of you, head falling back and mouth parted, was immaculate. He wished he remembered where his phone was right now, it would've been the perfect photo to take for him to get off on in the future. He committed it to memory as best he could, but even that thought immediately flew away when he finally felt you sink into his dick. 

"Oh my god,” you moaned in unison.

Seungcheol wasn't so sure if he was wincing from your nails digging into his chest or from the vice grip of your cunt on his cock, but either way, both felt like heaven to him. "Baby girl, you just came twice and you're still so fucking tight.”

"C-can take you, daddy. Please... p-promise!" You begged, lowering yourself to take in a few more inches of him. The stretch was familiar yet it still had you squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip. 
Afraid he wouldn't be able to stay still any longer, Cheol took the matter in his own hands, sitting up to bring your chest flush against his, connecting your lips in a heated kiss to distract you from the pain. He still tasted of you and a slight hint of your minty toothpaste. When he felt you relax, his strong hold sank you onto him until he was fully sheathed. You broke from the kiss, head falling back once again at the overwhelming feeling of being so full. 

"Cmon, baby, thought you wanted to ride me?" He sucked on the column of your throat, causing you to swivel your hips. "There you go. You can do it." God, his voice was so sinful it made your insides churn. Another strangled moan left your mouth when his wet tongue made contact with your right nipple, licking and sucking before he kissed between the valley of your breasts, only to nip at your left bud.

"Oh my god, Cheol!" You pulled at his hair, wanting him to leave your sensitive breasts alone. 

He laughed dryly at your attempt but still allowed you that space. He let go of your waist to lean back with his palms against the mattress to have a full view of you. "Cmon baby," He spurred on, "show daddy what you got." 

Choi Seungcheol was simply left with no regrets at his challenge. His eyes almost turned completely black when you decided to fully bounce on him. When you found a good pace, you alternated between bouncing and grinding, one hand squeezing your breast as the other held onto his knee for support. "Fuck, daddyyy," you cried at the stretch, and he could just feel your pussy clenching on his cock even more.

"So fucking needy," he spat, "Can't get enough of my cock." 

You shook your head at his words, mewling when your clit rubbed deliciously at his pelvis and his engorged head kissed your cervix. "D-daddy.." 

"That's it, baby girl," Seungcheol cooed, bucking his hips up to meet yours, "get off on me, ride me 'til you shake. Need you to cum, princess." 

Encouraged by your husband's words, you lifted ‘til just the tip was in before sitting down on him harshly. He continued to praise you and how delicious your warm pussy felt, a string of very lewd words produced with every swivel of your hips. Your face contorted in pleasure and he knew you were close, "touch yourself," came his instructions.

"shit!" You cursed, cumming on the spot when two of your fingers rubbed against your clit.

Seungcheol beamed at how well he knew you, your tells and your triggers when you're about to cum. But what he didn't see coming was just how fast the sight of you getting off on top of him would quickly bring him to the edge too. If he didn’t catch it at the last second, he might have just spilled in you.

In one swift motion, not even pulling out of you, he flipped you on your back and trapped you under his weight. You yelped when he pumped into you, catching you off guard as you were still trying to ride out your own orgasm. 

"Ba-aby, fuck. You're d-driving me insane," he growled, "don't you dare fucking close your eyes. Keep 'em on me." 

Your fingers weaved through his hair, as you desperately tried to follow his instructions. If only he wasn't hell bent on reaching his high, Seungcheol would've laughed at how often you'd train your eyes to look at him every time they kept trying to roll to the back of your head. "Daddy's gonna fuck a baby in you, you want that, princess?" 

"Y-yes daddy! yes!" You mewled, both your legs being lifted up, calves resting on Seungcheol’s meaty shoulders, while he inserted a pillow below your ass. "Fuck me full, daddy, please,” a breathless request.

He folded you in half, planting his knees on the mattress and bracing himself on your sides. Seungcheol drove his cock into you, hitting you so deep that you felt him just below your cervix and you moaned the loudest that night. Strangled moan after strangled moan came out of your mouth while throaty grunts and curse words flew off from his, all this mixed with the explicit sound of your sweaty bodies colliding.

"m-more, daddy! More, please!"  

"Fuuuuuuck, you're insatiable, so fucking tight," Seungcheol moaned. His movements were rough, pulling out of you completely before fully slamming back in and going deep with every move. The sex was everything close to animalistic, you could feel him in the deepest parts of you, consistently hitting a spot that made your brain short circuit. "So needy for my cum, want to be filled so bad."

"Daddy, so- oh my god. So fucking big.”

“Princess, I-I’m.. s-so...close,” he warned, staring at your teary eyes while your hands intertwined behind his neck. Seungcheol buried his cock in you, not bothering to thrust out of your grip, instead grinding endlessly to help stimulate your clit against his pelvis.

"Cum with me, Cheollie. P-please."  

Your husband growled before his hips jerked twice, hot spurts of his cum painting your walls white. His eyes boring into yours and the feeling of being so full only triggered your own release, rendering you into a babbling mess. Seungcheol connected your mouths in a kiss, not caring that you were already out of breath. He interspersed them with praises of how good you felt clenching on his cock. 

"I love you, Cheollie." 

"I know baby, I know. I love you too," he breathed, hissing at how hard he still was despite just hitting his climax. His dick was almost painful in your tight hold, "give me one more, yeah?" 

Before you could even process his question, you were already flipped on all fours, whining at the temporary emptiness. "Wha- Cheol, I-" 

"Be good for daddy, yeah? One more, princess. One more to get you round and full." But who were you to deny your Choi Seungcheol? Your husband who was just as ready to start a family with you like he's always dreamed of. Your arms gave way when you felt him breach your abused hole once more, your limp body allowing him to control your hips even more. He was kneading your ass, surely leaving handprints in his wake. 

"Ch- ahh!" You cried in a silent scream, the pleasure you were feeling just devouring your every being. You could feel the goosebumps rise on you scalp and run to the tips of your toes as Seungcheol pounded you from behind. "Cheollie... Oh.. oh! fu-uuuck." 

He pulled you by your hair harshly, your back flush against his chest, the low rumble of his voice affecting your body, "Call me Cheollie again and you won't get to cum." 

"Daddy!" you whined apologetically, tears freely flowing down your cheeks. 

"There you go, not so hard huh, princess?" Seungcheol teased, an arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cupped at your cunt. "Color, my love?" 

"G-green, daddy.. Pl-Please... just j-ust cum in me." 

"Fuck, you sound so broken... So greedy for my cum." Seungcheol relentlessly fucked up into you, until his pace grew erratic and bent you both forward. He stopped himself with his forearm to the mattress so as not to crush you, but with your muscles already weak, you simply face planted into the soft hotel pillows, drool and tears staining the white sheets.

"All mine," your husband chanted repetitively, stilling inside your pussy as it clenched around him tightly. Your orgasm rippled through you in a big tidal wave that Seungcheol could just feel your slick coat him anew. Your whole body shook uncontrollably, jolts of electricity alighting all your nerves. With one last loud call of your name, Seungcheol shot his load inside you, white ropes of sticky cum filling your cunt to the brim. His own thighs trembling as he finally collapsed on you, knocking out the little air you had left. He whispered i love you's to your ear, riding out his own orgasm which lasted longer than the both of you expected, especially when he just came a few minutes ago. 

In your two years of marriage, you don't think you've ever been this spent after sex, and neither did Seungcheol. But nothing catches his attention faster than the sound of you sniffing followed by a tiny hiccup. He moves up and pulls out of you so quickly that he hisses harshly, but you whine out even louder, causing alarm bells to ring in his head. 

"nooo..." you cry pathetically, your voice barely above a whisper, "come back."

"Baby, what's wrong?" Seungcheol pulls you towards him, eyes scanning your body for any abnormal pain, dreading the next few words out of his mouth, "did I hurt you?" 

You shook your head no, your hands grabbing at his chest to pull yourself closer to him and bury your face in his neck.

"Princess..." he started gently, still not completely sure if you were really okay. "I need your words. Need you to tell me if I hurt you." 

You choked as you tried to speak, voice straining from all the noises you've made tonight, but you were well aware your crying did nothing to comfort your husband. "I'm okay." 

"Was I too much?" 

"No. Never." You assured with a soft kiss on his chest. "So good to me." 

Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief at your words. "Wanna tell me why you're crying?" He asked, moving you both on your side so he could look at you properly, one hand soothing your back. His warm breath tickled your face, as he tried to wipe away your tears with the softest look in his eyes. 

You felt another squeeze in your heart while warmth crept up in your cheeks, both your hands instinctively covering your face when tears pricked at your eyes once more. You mumbled something but Cheol couldn't really understand and he didn't want to push, so he held you tighter instead, leaving kisses on your shoulder as his free hand brushed your hair. He could feel your tears wet his neck and shoulder and he willed himself to stay patient and calm. 

"I'm sorry," you squeaked after a long bout of silence between you two, "am I scaring you?" 

"A little bit," Seungcheol chuckled. 

You looked up into his eyes, wanting to make sure he knows he did nothing wrong, "I'm just overwhelmed," your voice began to crack again at the last word, "I... I just... I really want a family with you, Cheol," you sobbed, your hands attempting to cover your face again but your husband was quick enough to grab at them. His own cupped your face instead, a thumb wiping at your tears as he let out the brightest smile, his own cheeks dusted in a light pink shade. "I really want this to work, Cheol." 

"I do, too, baby but in our own time, yeah? If it’s for us, then it will happen one way or another. Let's not pressure ourselves too much. I don't want you to pressure yourself too much," your husband comforted, "Besides, with or without kids, I already have you... and Kkuma… you're already family to me."  

You were pretty sure you felt your heart grow a size bigger at his words, mentally thanking the heavens you had a husband who adored and loved you so much.

Your moment was cut off by the incessant buzz of a phone and when you looked towards the bedside table to check, sure enough your device was vibrating towards the edge. Picking it up to stop the ring, your eyes grew wide at the notification that flashed on top of the screen, a smile dancing on your lips as you comprehended the app’s words in black font.

"Cheollie?" 

"Yeah?"

"I'm ovulating."

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated ☺️