#LETS CATCH UP PLZ

[unknownhyperialt]

Oh fuck yes ChitterChatter my fucking beloved

soft ears (˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)

i love these two

[daryltwdixon]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 6.5 | Part 7

Summary: After an accidental Freudian slip in bed with your husband, you and Joel agree to take a step back. Boundaries are drawn, lines are reinforced—but the damage is done, and even the strongest of willpower can't keep you apart.

|| smut MDNI 18+, little bit of angst there too, starting to not really be able to say this isn't cheating anymore yikes, dirty talk, pinv, riding, breeding kink, no outbreak, little bit of action with Tommy (f!receiving oral) Joel Miller is starting to catch feeeeelingssss ruh roh || notes: oh boy oh boy did I get secondhand embarrassment from this one. I think my eyes might start bleeding if I try rereading this again so plz lmk of any errors

Tommy had always been good to you. Patient, eager to please. He took his time, hands kneading the soft skin of your thighs, mouth dragging slow, open-mouthed kisses along your inner leg like he was savoring you. Like he loved you. And he did. Maybe that was the problem.

Because love wasn’t the same thing as knowing.

He wanted you to feel good, of course he did—but there was something hesitant about it, something careful. Like he was trying to do right by you instead of wreck you. Like he was holding back.

His tongue traced a path through your folds, licking and eating and suckling everywhere except where you needed him most. You squirmed, hips pushing up into his mouth, searching for that right spot, just a little higher, to the left…

You hummed when his nose nudged your clit, eyes fluttering shut, and what you didn’t mean to do was picture another man with the last name Miller instead of the one between your legs.

But you did.

And you didn’t picture patience. You pictured hunger.

Joel had devoured you, consumed you like he’d been starved for it, like he would’ve died if he didn’t get his mouth on you, inside you. He hadn’t wasted a second searching—he knew exactly where to touch, exactly how to work you open, like he’d memorized your body before he even had his hands on it. And God, those hands. The way they parted your thighs like the sea, fingers digging deep like they belonged there, like they were meant to bruise.

And his filthy, sinful mouth—

That voice, rough and low as he’d murmured against your soaked skin, coaxing you through every little whimper and gasp, urging you to let go, just one more, pretty girl, gimme another. You’d come on his tongue again and again until you could barely breathe, until you were trembling, until he finally, finally let you rest.

Tommy just didn’t do things like that. 

Tommy felt like warmth, like comfort, like the hands of a man who wanted to love you—but not the hands of a man who understood you.

And maybe that was why you didn’t even hear yourself when it slipped out–

“Joel–”

And then there was silence.

Thick and suffocating, pressing against your ears, your chest, your ribs.

Tommy had stopped. You barely registered it at first—so lost in your own head, in the whiplash of pleasure and horror—until you felt the absence of his mouth, the cool air licking over your slick skin. He had frozen in place, his breath still warm against your thigh, but he wasn’t moving.

And then, slowly, achingly, he sat back.

You didn’t want to look at him.

Didn’t want to see the way his brow furrowed, his mouth parted like he was going to say something but didn’t quite know how.

Didn’t want to see the way his hands flexed against your legs before he let go of you completely and sat back on the pillows beside you.

The space between you suddenly felt massive.

“Oh, God,” you croaked, your stomach bottoming out. “Oh, Tommy, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—”

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

You scrambled, heat clawing up your throat, shame like a hand around your neck. “It was just—my head was all over the place, I wasn’t thinking, I—I swear I didn’t mean it, Tommy, I—”

“Stop.”

It wasn’t angry. If it was, maybe it would’ve been easier. Maybe you could’ve handled that.

But it was quiet. Resigned.

Tommy exhaled, dragging a hand down his face before finally meeting your eyes. You wished he hadn’t.

Because there it was. Not fury. Not disgust. Hurt. Disappointment.

“I, uh…” He let out a small breath that almost sounded like a laugh. Like he couldn’t believe it. “I guess I should’ve seen this comin’.”

Your pulse stuttered. “Tommy, no—”

He shook his head, lifting a hand, stopping you again. “I knew this wasn’t gonna be easy,” he murmured, voice low, rough. “Knew feelings could get mixed up. Thought we could have rules and make it simple.” A humorless chuckle, a shake of his head. “Jesus.”

You swallowed thickly, throat raw. “I love you, Tommy.”

He looked at you, really looked at you, and something inside of him cracked. He nodded, reaching for you, letting you lay your head on his chest. “I know.” But when you looked up, his jaw tightened, his fingers curling into loose fists. “I just—I see the way you two are lately.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his voice softened. “You and Joel.”

Your breath caught.

He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. “There’s just…this energy between you. Always has been, I guess, but now…” He huffed out another short, mirthless laugh, shaking his head again. “Shit, I don’t even think you two see it. Not fully.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

Maybe you had seen it. Felt it. Maybe you’d been feeling it since the very first time, but you had locked it up, shoved it down, willed it away because you loved Tommy. Because you had made a choice.

Hadn’t you?

Tommy sighed, rubbing at his temple. “I just wanted a family with you.” His voice was thick, hoarse, like he was forcing the words through gravel. “More than anything.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I still do.”

You blinked hard, nodding, hands trembling as you reached for him. “And we will, Tommy, we—”

The arm he had around you stiffened, fingers twitching as you touched him. 

“That’s the thing, though,” he murmured, voice quieter now. “We’re sittin’ here, prayin’ for somethin’ to take, prayin’ for this baby—and when I picture it…” He trailed off, shaking his head, letting out a breath that sounded defeated.

Your stomach twisted. “Tommy.”

He blinked down, eyes focused on the blankets. “When I picture it,” he repeated, slower this time, like he was barely holding himself together, “I dunno if I see me anymore.”

It felt like a gut punch.

His jaw flexed, something breaking in his voice. “I knew it might get messy with Joel. Knew we might have to separate things in our heads, that you’d be spendin’ time with him, that it’d be—” His breath shuddered. “That it’d be him touchin’ you, not me.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, his fingers tightening. “I thought I could let it slide if it made you happy.”

Tommy’s words still hung heavy in the air, thick as smoke, curling in the space between you.

But you wouldn’t let them settle. Because he was wrong.

You let out a slow breath against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath your cheek, the familiar warmth of him. Then, with purpose, you pushed yourself up, sitting back on your heels, straddling his lap. Your hands pressed against his bare skin, grounding you both as you looked down at him—really looked at him.

“Listen to me.” Your voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. His eyes flicked up, wary but locked onto yours. “If this works—if we have this baby—that’s ours, Tommy. Yours and mine.” You shook your head, fingers tightening slightly where they rested against him. “Not Joel’s. Ours.”

His jaw tensed, something flickering behind his eyes. You didn’t let him look away.

“I love you,” you continued, voice unwavering. “I chose you. I choose you.” You swallowed, feeling the weight of every word. “Yeah, it’s gonna be weird at first, but this—this is about us, not him.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers twitching against your thighs. “I just…” He hesitated, looking up at you, searching. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You’re not,” you said instantly. “You won’t.”

His hands slid up, gripping your hips now, solid and warm, like he needed to feel you, to believe you. His brow furrowed, lips parting slightly, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, slowly, his grip tightened.

You felt the shift in him before you saw it. The way his body responded to yours, the way his fingers curled into your skin, grounding himself in you.

His eyes darkened just slightly, flickering down to your lips before dragging back up, searching your face.

You leaned in first.

The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was deep, tender, his breath hot against your mouth as he surged up, pulling you down, swallowing the last remnants of doubt between you. His hands traveled, skimming up your back, one sliding into your hair, the other gripping your waist like he needed to feel every inch of you, needed to remember.

A soft sound slipped from your throat as you shifted against him, the hard press of his body undeniable beneath you. The heat between you burned away the uncertainty, leaving only this.

His tongue slid against yours, slow and deliberate, as if reclaiming you, as if reminding you—you were his.

His grip tightened. Then, with a rumbling deep in his chest, he flipped you onto your back.

And for a second—just a split second—your mind flickered back to the last time someone had pinned you down like this.

You shoved the thought away, sealing yourself in this moment. In him.

Because you had made your choice.

Hadn’t you?

The tile shop smelled of fresh-cut stone, sawdust clinging faintly to the air beneath the sharp scent of industrial cleaner as you browsed the samples. 

Joel walked beside you, giving you advice on the best materials for the bathroom remodel. He fit in here, comfortable among the stacks of flooring samples, the thick catalogs of material swatches, the talk of grout and durability. 

When you reached the section of colorful tiles to pick from, he grabbed a copy of Home Building magazine from a nearby shelf in his hands, flipping through it absently as he leaned a hip against the counter of the showroom.

“So, you gonna tell me why Tommy was bitin’ my head off yesterday on a job?” His voice was rough but casual, like he wasn’t too concerned.

You blinked, stalling mid-step by the tile wall. “Huh?”

Joel looked up at you, gaze darkening like he thought you were playing dumb. “Was layin’ into me about every little thing. Usually, I can take one or two from ‘im—ya know, messin’ around, shootin’ the shit.” He flipped another page, shaking his head. “But this was different. Something got under his skin.” Then, content, he shut the catalog, setting it down on the counter and tilting his head.

Your stomach twisted. You dropped your gaze, fingers grazing over the veins in a slab of white marble, tracing the golden and brown threads weaving through the cool surface. The crisp, clean lines blurred as your thoughts ran too fast, searching for a way to frame this—if there even was one.

Joel called your name, and you hesitated before looking at him, only to drop your gaze just as fast, settling on his boots instead of his face.

“What’s goin’ on?” His voice came softer this time, a low murmur. He stepped toward you, his presence shifting the air around you, pulling tighter.

“I, uh…” Your lips pressed into a thin line. The words felt jagged in your throat, difficult to shape. “I may have screwed up.”

Joel’s brows pulled together. “Oh?”

“The other night, Tommy and I…we were…” You flicked your eyes to his, then around to check your surroundings before lowering your voice. “Ya know.”

Joel gave a slow nod, urging you to continue.

“And at one point… I was just trying to get myself there, ya know, I was close but couldn’t quite manage to…” You sucked in a deep breath, your skin prickling with heat. “I said your name.”

His frown deepened, forehead creasing, but he didn’t say anything—didn’t seem to fully understand yet.

You swallowed, heart drumming hard. “I said your name, Joel. Instead of his. Instead of my husband’s.”

Realization crawled over his face, slow, dawning. A flush crept along the tips of his ears, darkening the already pink hue to his skin.

“Oh, shit.”

“Oh shit is right,” you muttered, turning back to the tiles, though the intricate veins of marble couldn’t hold your focus.

Joel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “This has gone too far,” he mumbled. “We can’t keep… this is too messy.”

You nodded, though it barely felt like agreement when there was a lump growing in your throat, thick and suffocating.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

The air outside was crisp, the sun starting to dip just enough to soften the light when you finished up with the tiles. You adjusted the weight of samples in your arms, stepping toward Joel’s truck.

Joel walked beside you, quiet. He’d been quiet ever since you left the showroom, brooding and only giving answers when needed, only talking to the salesman about the projects he was working on. 

You grabbed the handle of the passenger door to open it—

But before you could, his hand shot out, slamming it shut again.

You startled, jerking slightly as his palm flattened firm against the metal. The space between you shrank, the air suddenly heavier as you turned to face him.

Your pulse skipped. “Joel?”

He didn’t look at you right away. Just kept his hand there, his jaw tight, something unreadable pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Then, after a moment, he swallowed, inhaled deep through his nose, and said, “I’m only gonna say this once.”

Your stomach tightened.

Joel turned his head just slightly, gaze flicking to you beneath furrowed brows. His voice was low, measured, but careful. So careful. It didn’t match the weight of his words.

“And then never again,” he murmured. “You hear me?”

You nodded, barely breathing anymore.

Joel inhaled again, like he was bracing himself. Then, finally, “My head’s all messed up over this,” he admitted, voice low, gravel-rough. “I ain’t been right since the first time. Since you.”

Your stomach clenched. Joel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his mouth, shaking his head slightly like he couldn’t believe he was about to say this. “Tried to put it away, pretend it don’t mean anythin’. Tried to tell myself it’s just sex, just a favor, just somethin’ to get you and Tommy what you want—”

He huffed a short, bitter laugh, gaze flicking away for a second before finding yours again.

“But it ain’t just that. Not for me.”

Heat bloomed beneath your skin, thick and suffocating.

Joel’s fingers flexed against the truck door. His jaw tensed. “I ain’t been with anyone else since this started.” He let the words settle, let them sink in. “Haven’t even wanted to.”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

He shook his head again, his voice getting rougher, rawer, the truth scraping its way out of him. “And now I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. Can’t stop wonderin’ how you’re gonna sound, how you’re gonna feel every time I close my damn eyes. Can’t stop picturin’ you in my bed.” His breath shuddered. “I can’t even fuckin’ touch myself without seein’ you.”

You felt something tighten low in your stomach, sharp and unbearable.

His voice dipped, low and ragged. “And I—” He stopped himself, swallowing thickly before murmuring, almost like a confession, “I like it too much to want to stop. But we have to.”

Your chest rose and fell faster, your pulse hammering as your fingers twitched toward him. The storm of feelings in your head was screaming at you to stop reaching out to touch him. You couldn’t help it. Your body moved, closed in, your eyes dragging over his face before landing on his lips.

How could you feel like this?

How could you want two men at once? How could you look Tommy in the eyes, tell him you loved him, tell him you chose him, and then stand here now—your body tilting toward Joel like you didn’t have a choice in the matter? But the truth was, you had never chosen this. You had never asked for this. It had crept up on you in stolen moments, in the space between duty and desire, in the unspoken, in the way Joel knew you without even trying.

He was so close. So warm.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? You had always loved Tommy differently. Steady, safe, the warmth of something real and tangible, the kind of love that built a future. But Joel? Joel was something else entirely. He was unshakable—a presence that settled deep in your bones, that lived in the quiet parts of you, the places you had never let anyone else see. He was the ache in your stomach when his voice dropped too low, the heat in your chest when he looked at you just a second too long, the part of you that had been unraveling since the first night his hands had been on you.

The lines between them were blurred now, bleeding into one another, and you were standing in the middle of it, grasping at both of them, unsure which one would steady you first.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. He inhaled sharply, his chest rising beneath your palm, the warmth of him soaking into your skin like he belonged there.

And then, just as you began closing the distance between you, Joel pulled away.

His hand shot up, covering yours, pressing it firmly against his chest for just a second before peeling it away.

His head shook once. “No,” he said, rough. “We can’t.”

Your stomach dropped. His gaze met yours, full of something aching and raw, but his next words were firm.

“I won’t do that to Tommy. We said we wouldn’t let it get messy.”

Your throat bobbed, “Joel…”

He shook his head again, jaw tight as he released you, stepping back like he had to. Like if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to. A humorless huff of breath left his mouth before he said, “Already broke two rules, didn’t we?”

And when you didn’t reply, he shook his head and opened your door, “Get in the truck.”

The drive back was quiet.

Not the easy kind, not the peaceful kind—it was the kind that sat heavy between you, thick and charged, the kind where every breath felt too loud, where neither of you dared to fill the silence because what the hell was there even left to say?

Joel kept his hands on the wheel, his fingers flexing against the worn leather grip, his gaze fixed on the road like if he looked at you for even a second too long, he might crack.

You kept your hands in your lap, fidgeting and trying to ignore the way your skin still burned where he had touched you—where he had stopped touching you.

The truck rumbled as he pulled up in front of your house, tires crunching over gravel. He shifted into park but didn’t kill the engine. Didn’t move.

You turned to him, clearing your throat, “Next week, for your birthday–”

Joel’s knuckles flexed against the steering wheel, “What about it–”

“Tommy and I want to have you over,” you said simply. “I’m cookin’ steaks. There’ll be cake and the whole nine.”

His head turned slightly, brow furrowing. “What? Why?”

“I want—” You stopped yourself, pulse skipping before you corrected, “We want to. It’s just dinner, Joel. If not for me, for him. For Sarah. Just a regular family dinner.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “You remember what happened the last time you hosted one of them?”

His lips twitched at the corners, and for the first time since the tile shop, the tension cracked, just a little.

Your shoulders sagged slightly in relief, and for a second, things felt normal again. But then his gaze found yours. And just like that, the moment was gone.

For a second, you thought he might refuse. That he’d tell you it was a bad idea, that it was too much, that after everything that had happened, sitting at the same dinner table with you would be the last thing he wanted.

But he didn’t. Instead, he let out a slow breath, eyes flicking away like he was trying to find an argument and coming up empty.

Finally, he gave a small nod. “Alright.”

Your chest loosened. “Good. Be here at six.”

You reached for the handle, pushing the door open, stepping out into the cool evening air. The truck door creaked as you turned back, gripping the edge of it for just a second longer than necessary.

Joel wasn’t watching you, just staring forward at your house, the glow of golden hour drenching everything in a deep orange.

“And Joel?” 

His eyes turned to see you, like he had just pulled himself from a deep thought, “...Hm?”

Your lips parted, and you took a slow breath, steadying yourself, forcing your tone to be calm, deliberate, heavier than anything else you could’ve said.

“Fuck those rules.”

You slammed the door shut before he could say another word.

The dinner went fine.

Really, it did.

Sure, there was tension, but it stayed beneath the surface, stitched up neatly between polite smiles and easy conversation. You played your part well—a good wife, a good sister-in-law, a good aunt to Sarah.

She didn’t need to know how messy things had gotten, how tangled things had become between the most important people in her life. She laughed when you teased her about school, rolled her eyes at her dad’s bad jokes, and beamed when Tommy ruffled her hair like he always did. Normal.

Joel did the same. Sat across from you at the dinner table, calm, collected, focused on his plate like the steak needed his full attention. He spoke when he had to, laughed when it was natural, let Tommy rib him about finally letting himself be celebrated for once. If anyone had been watching closely, they’d say he was fine.

But you caught him looking.

You weren’t sure if it was just a ‘he glanced at you at the same time you glanced at him’ kind of thing, awkward and just coincidence. But it happened too often for that. His eyes dragged over your face for a second too long when you passed him a dish. His fingers would flex around his beer bottle when Sarah chatted to you about soccer. He sat back in his chair at one point, fingers tapping idly against his thigh, gaze slipping to your mouth before he forced himself to look away. 

And then later, when you were singing him an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday—Sarah belting, Tommy grinning, and Joel blushing crimson with a hand over his face—you saw the way the candlelight flickered in his eyes.

“Make a wish!” Sarah exclaimed as the song died down.

Joel leaned forward, jaw tight, hands moving to brace against the edge of the table. The room quieted, waiting. And just as he was about to blow them out… He looked at you.

It was quick, a flick of his eyes, a second too long, a beat too heavy. But it was enough. Enough to make your breath hitch, enough to send something sharp and aching down your spine.

Like whatever was running through his head had everything to do with you and nothing to do with wishing for more wishes.

Then the candles went out.

Cheers from Tommy and Sarah filled the room, shattering the moment, breaking the thread stretched too tight. You quickly joined the raucous applauding and Joel sat back, shaking his head when Sarah asked What’d you wish for, Dad?

He didn’t answer.

And you didn’t need him to.

Dinner went fine.

You had been halfway through folding laundry when a knock came at the door a few days later. It was sharp, impatient–a knock that made your stomach tighten before you even reached it.

And as you opened the door, you couldn’t help the surprise on your face when you saw him.

His dark hair was mussed, a mess of waves from a long day’s work, damp strands clinging to his temples. His shirt was stained and sweat-damp at the collar, fabric sticking to the broad stretch of his chest, fresh smudges of dirt and grease painting his skin like he hadn’t even stopped to clean up.

His breath was uneven, shallow, like he had rushed here, like he had spent the whole damn day working through something only to find himself on your doorstep.

“Joel?” you began, looking around for your husband’s truck, “Where’s Tommy?”

“Sent him to talk to the concrete guys.” His voice was rough, like he wasn’t sure he should be here—but he came anyway.

Silence stretched between you, thick and humming. He hadn’t stepped inside, and you didn’t make a move either. 

Finally, he took a deep breath, “Did you mean it?”

You blinked at him, confused.

“When you said fuck the rules.”

Your stomach flipped into your chest, your heart beginning to thunder in your throat. His eyes stayed on you, dark and searching, waiting, almost pleading.

“Yes,” you finally said, voice cracking.

He lunged.

His hands found your face, fingers cupping your jaw with such tenderness that contrasted his need, tilting your head up as his lips crashed into yours—hot, feverish, desperate. You gasped against his mouth, and he swallowed it down, kissing you like he had been starving for it, like he had spent days, hell, months holding himself back only to break now, to let it consume him whole.

You molded together like this wasn’t the first time but the thousandth, like your lips had already memorized the shape of one another, though the heat and the desperate way you clung to him told a different story. Your hands twisted in the worn cotton of his shirt, pulling, yanking, tearing it over his head, arms snaking around his neck as he pushed you back. You only heard the click of the lock as he slammed the door shut behind him.

Your spine hit the wall with a dull thud, and he barely paused. He only stopped to pull your shirt over your head, discarding it like it was nothing before pressing his body flush to yours.

You felt everything–the heat of his skin. The rough scrape of his jeans. The hard, thick press of him between your legs. But it wasn’t just that, it wasn’t just the way he fit against you, the way he felt. It was how hungry he was.

How he touched you like he was mapping you out by memory, hands skimming over your ribs, splaying over your waist before dipping lower, gripping your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp. He hoisted you up like it was nothing, like you belonged there.

Your legs locked around his hips, his hands gripping tight beneath you, holding you up, holding you still, pressing you harder into the unyielding wall behind you.

“I’ve wanted to kiss these perfect, sweet lips for so goddamn long,” he breathed, his voice low, wrecked, nearly shaking.

A sound caught in your throat—half gasp, half moan—as Joel kissed you again, deeper, rougher, claiming every inch of your mouth like he wasn’t ever going to stop.

His body was unrelenting, his grip unyielding, his hands moving—always moving, like he couldn’t touch enough of you at once. One held tight to your thigh, pulling you tighter against him, the other sliding up your spine, fingers curling into your hair, tugging just enough to make your head tip back, exposing more of your throat to him. 

And he took it. Mouth dragging lower, teeth grazing, lips parting, sucking, tasting.

Your hands were everywhere—gripping his shoulders, clawing at his back, desperate, needy, as he ground into you, hips pressing tight between your thighs, and suddenly there was no air left between you at all.

There was only heat, hands, breath, and want.

And Joel. Only Joel.

His grip tightened, fingers flexing where they held you, keeping you locked against him, and then he was moving—pulling you with him, dragging you away from the wall like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you for even a second.

Your hands twisted into his hair, keeping him close, lips still fused as he carried you across the room, each step heavy, deliberate, every inch of you pressed against him.

Then, suddenly, your back hit the couch.

The cushions dipped beneath you as Joel settled you down, kneeling between your legs, breath coming short, hands already at your waistband, already pulling, already seeking more.

Your eyes flicked open just as his fingers curled into the denim, but you stopped him.

Your hands covered his, stilling him, and for the first time tonight, Joel froze. His chest rose and fell sharply, his knuckles flexing beneath your touch, his eyes flicking up to yours.

“Let me take care of you tonight,” you whispered.

He didn’t move, you weren’t even sure if he was breathing. He only watched you, pupils blown wide, his jaw tight, like he was caught between disbelief and surrender.

You pushed up, slowly, deliberately, until you were eye level with him, until your mouth was brushing against his again, tongues sliding, teeth nipping, pulling another wrecked sound from deep in his throat. You moaned into him, hands dragging over the planes of his chest before pushing him back, turning him toward the couch.

You stood before him, slow and measured, fingers hooking into your waistband.

Joel’s throat bobbed, his eyes dragging down your bare chest, lower, blazing as they followed your hands, as they lingered where your fingers began pushing your pants down. His breath came rough, unsteady.

"Go on, baby," he rasped, voice wrecked, thick fingers gripping the couch. "Take ‘em off. Show me what’s mine."

You smiled coyly, dragging your shorts down agonizingly slow, and once they were discarded, Joel immediately sat up, hands grabbing for you, fingers spreading wide over your thighs like he couldn’t bear to not touch you another second.

One hand traveled up, dragging from the inside of your knee to the damp heat between your legs, where the lace of your panties was practically soaked through already.

His fingers curled, a low, rough chuckle slipping from his throat as his thumb pressed into your panty clad center, just slightly, just enough to make your breath catch.

"These are cute," he murmured, teasing, and then leaned forward, his mouth finding your hip bone, lips dragging over soft skin, kissing and teasing. His fingers stayed firm, still gripping your thigh as his teeth scraped over the soft flesh of your stomach. His lips traveled lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses into the fabric as it sat just over your thigh, catching the delicate lace between his teeth.

And then he bit down. And ripped them straight off.

"Joel!!" you screeched, your body lurching forward, grabbing at his shoulders, breath knocking out of you at the sheer force of him.

He hummed, satisfied, palming your ass, still gripping you like he wasn’t finished yet.

"Think I’ll keep ‘em," he mused, voice deep, smug, his free hand stuffing the ruined lace into his back pocket.

Your breath heaved out of you, body buzzing as you giggled, shaking your head and climbing on top of his lap, “You are so bad,”

Joel just grinned, hands firm on your cheeks, guiding you, pulling you closer as you sat down on his lap.

The rough grit of denim met your bare center, and the friction sent a sharp pulse of heat through your core. You shivered, sensitive, every nerve ending alight as you rolled your hips down onto him. Joel sucked in a breath, his fingers flexing where they gripped your thighs, but he didn’t push you down, didn’t move to take over, even though you could feel how badly he wanted to. He was holding back, letting you have this moment, letting you grind against the thick press of him as slick coated the seam of his jeans, your body aching for more.

"Help me get these off?" he muttered, voice low, thick, barely in control. His hands stayed on your thighs as you reached down, fingers fumbling with his belt, the clatter of the buckle mixing with your heavy breathing.

With shaking fingers, you dragged the zipper down, the sound barely louder than the ragged breaths filling the room. He lifted his hips, only releasing you to shove his jeans down to his knees, hissing through his teeth as his cock sprang free, thick and hot, the head already glistening.

The breath of relief he let out was cut short as your fingers wrapped around him, slow, deliberate, dragging along his length just to watch his face twist in pleasure. His whole body tensed beneath you, jaw clenched tight, chest rising and falling with deep, measured breaths as he let you stroke him, let you feel every hard inch of him. His cock twitched in your grip, heat pooling between your thighs at the sheer size of him, the way he pulsed in your hand, the way his fingers dug into your skin, like he was fighting to keep himself from flipping you over and slamming you into the couch right then and there.

"Next time," you whispered, leaning in until your lips brushed his ear, voice dripping with promise, "you're at least gonna let me suck your cock. Deal?"

A sound ripped from his throat, half-growl, half-moan, and his hand shot up, tangling in your hair, gripping hard as he crushed his mouth to yours, kissing you deep, all tongue and teeth and hunger. His free hand slid down your back, rough fingertips dragging over heated skin before gripping your ass, kneading, pulling you against him, pressing you flush to the heat of him.

"Next time," he muttered, voice thick, heavy, wrecked, "but if you don’t sit on my cock right now, I swear to God, I will flip you over and—"

You cut him off with a smirk, lifting yourself up just enough to run him through your soaked folds, teasing, coating him in you. His breath hitched, sharp, his grip tightening against your hips, his whole body going rigid beneath you.

"You’ll what now?" you teased, notching the head of his cock at your entrance.

The thickness of him was always overwhelming. No matter how many times you had taken him, no matter how much he stretched you, there was always that moment when your body had to adjust, had to accommodate the sheer size of him. You moaned as you sank down slowly, taking your time, feeling the slow, delicious stretch as he filled you inch by inch.

Joel's head fell back against the couch, brows furrowed, his lips parting around a broken groan as he let you take him, let you work yourself down onto him at your own pace. His fingers flexed against your waist, gripping tight, sure to leave bruises, but he didn’t force you down, didn’t rush, just let you feel it, let you savor the way he filled you completely.

"Goddamn," he gritted out, voice strained, body trembling with restraint, "takin’ me so well, baby. Fuck, just like that."

You whimpered, nails dragging across his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as your body stretched around him. He felt impossibly deep, hitting that spot inside you that only he knew, that made your whole body tense, made your breath catch, made your mind blank as you sank down, down, down, until your ass pressed into his thighs.

Joel let you have a moment to adjust, chest heaving, his hands dragging up your sides, fingertips trailing over the swell of your breasts before sliding back down to grip your hips, strong, steady, grounding. And then, just when you thought you could start moving, he gripped you tighter and thrust up into you, sharp and deep.

Your gasp broke into a moan, your head tilting back as the sensation sent heat flooding through your core. His grip tightened, his pace rough and demanding as he fucked up into you, his hips meeting yours in quick, brutal strokes, forcing you to take every inch of him.

"That what you needed?" he grunted, his voice a low growl, his hands guiding you now, forcing you to ride him, making you take it.

Your whole body was burning, desperate, aching as you rocked against him, every stroke pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His teeth dragged along your throat, lips and tongue soothing the marks he left behind, hands sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples as he groaned into your skin.

"Love watchin’ you like this," he murmured, voice wrecked, his breath hot against your neck, "been dreamin’ of this–you bouncin’ on my cock, lettin’ me ruin you. Such a good girl for me, huh?"

“Yes, Joel, yes–”

You clenched around him, your body tightening in response, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your stomach.

"Fuck, baby, you gonna come for me? Already?”

No. Not yet. Not yet, because this moment was too much, too big, and you wanted to feel every second of it. But he needed to know. He needed to.

He slowed down so his thumb could press against your clit, slow, teasing, deliberate, and your whole body jerked, oversensitive, and barely holding on.

“Joel,” you whispered.

"Yeah?" His voice was a low rasp, breathless, wrecked as his half hooded eyes gazed up at you.

Your hands slid up to his neck, playing with the nape of his hair as you tried to find the words.

"I—" you swallowed hard, heart hammering as you tried to catch your breath. "I took a test this morning."

Joel stilled. The gentle teasing of his thumb stopped. His hips halted.

Everything stopped.

He blinked up at you, lips slightly parted, completely still beneath you. "What?"

“I’m pregnant,” you said, biting your lip as you gauged his reaction.

His hands spread wide across your waist, fingers pressing tight, thumbs tracing slow, reverent circles. Then, lowering, splaying over your stomach.

"Carryin’ my baby in there, huh?"

Your heart skipped.

"Joel…"

But suddenly, you weren’t in control anymore. You’re not sure you ever were to begin with. 

His arms wrapped around your waist, locking you in, holding you so tight against his chest that there was nowhere to go, no space between you at all. His muscles flexed, his grip firm, and then he drove up into you, his cock punching so deep you felt the thick, unrelenting stretch of him in your stomach.

You gasped, body jerking against him, the sudden force of it making your breath catch as pleasure cracked through you like a whip.

"Fuck," he groaned, the sound raw, guttural, his head tipping back for a split second before he resumed his hungry kisses to your flesh.

He thrust up hard, sharp, thick heat dragging along your walls, stretching you open, making you take every inch. The press of him was almost unbearable, every push hitting that spot inside you that made your whole body tremble and your moans break apart into sharp, breathless whimpers.  

"You’re carrying my baby." he groaned into your skin.

"Joel!" you screeched, head tilting back, body arching, your nails digging into his shoulders as his mouth found your throat, biting, sucking, marking. His cock dragged through your slick, gliding easy but so thick, so deep, pressing right up against that sweet spot over and over again.

But still—you hadn’t said it.

And Joel knew it.

He slowed, hips dragging deep, deliberate, making you feel all of him, every thick inch stretching you open.

"You can say whatever you want," he murmured, voice low, rough, thick with something dark and heavy. His hands slid up your back, pulled you closer, his lips brushing over your ear.

"But who's been fillin’ you up every month, huh?"

He rolled his hips up slow, so deep, and you whimpered, clenching down around him.

"Who’s been fuckin’ you until you see stars? Who’s made you come on his cock over and over again, baby?"

His voice turned gravelly, filthy, absolute sin.

"Sure as hell ain’t my baby brother."

Your whole body trembled, on edge, breaking apart, so close to coming, but he wouldn’t give you what you needed.

"Say it," Joel demanded, his grip tightening around you,

Your lips parted, a whimper slipping out, but nothing came.

He growled, snapping his hips hard, making you cry out.

"Say whose baby this is."

You were right there, right on the edge, pleasure coiled so tight you could barely breathe.

"Say it, and I’ll let you come on my cock again."

Your whole body shook, thighs trembling, head tilting back as the words finally tore from your lips.

"It’s yours, Joel," you gasped, the words breaking, desperate, ruined. "It’s yours—fuck—"

His breath hitched, sharp, ragged, completely wrecked.

"That’s right."

He pulled you against him just right so you were grinding into him, your clit catching on the patch of curly dark hair at the base of his cock where your hips met. The moan that left your throat was downright obscene as you felt the pleasure shock through you. 

His hands moved to grip your hips so tight it was bruising, his mouth crushing against yours, teeth dragging over your bottom lip, his pace wild, desperate, unstoppable as he dragged you against him again and again. 

"You’re mine," he groaned, voice breaking, fucking into you with everything he had, filling you over and over, relentless. "My baby. My girl. My fuckin’ perfect girl, carryin’ my baby."

"Joel!" you screamed, your whole body locking up, pleasure ripping through you like fire, waves of heat curling, crashing, drowning you.

"That’s it," he rasped, feeling you tighten around him, feeling you break for him as your clit kept rubbing perfectly against his pelvis, sending shockwaves through you as he held you through your climax. "That’s it, my good girl, gonna fill you up again, baby, gonna take it? Gonna take my come again?"

“Yes, Joel, yes, yes, yes,” you blubbered, clinging to him.  

And then, with a rough, broken groan, Joel buried himself deep, pressing flush, full, spilling inside you, filling you completely. 

Your whole body continued to tremble as you both caught your breath. Your thighs were shaking, limbs weak and boneless as you sprawled over him, completely spent, completely ruined. Your heartbeat was thunderous, hammering in your ears, every nerve ending still shivering from the aftershocks.

His hands were still gripping your hips, tight, possessive, unmoving, holding you flush to him, keeping you there with him. His head was tipped back against the couch, chest rising and falling fast, lips parted as he caught his breath, his skin hot and damp beneath your palms.

Slowly, reality began creeping back in.

Your fingers traced mindlessly over his broad shoulders, the damp curls at the nape of his neck, still coming down, still floating in the hazy, fucked-out warmth of it all.

Joel’s grip softened, his hands sliding up your back, slow, lazy strokes over sweat-slick skin. His breath was still uneven when he finally muttered, voice wrecked and hoarse, “Christ…made me lose my damn mind there for a minute.”

You huffed a quiet laugh against his shoulder, still not ready to move, still too high from everything. But you lifted yourself up just slightly so your forehead pressed to his, nudging your nose against his, his lips grazing, teasing, kissing you slow and deep.

And then you looked up as movement caught the corner of your eye.

And froze.

Everything in you turned to ice.

Because standing in the doorway, staring at the two of you, was Tommy.

tag list: @alidiggory92 @pinkylouise @izzy698 @doblasftcisco @devotedlypaleluminary @elsplayground @puduvallee @victoriaholland @legoemma

[dazedhyu]

Sunrise 𓂃 🌆 lmk

:¨ ·.· ¨: paring ー bf!mark x fem!reader

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ warnings : established relationship, smut, unprotected rough sex (wrap it b4 you tap it!!), morning / afternoon sex, pussy slapping, praising, choking, creampie, dacryphilia, overstimulation, lots of pet names (he's literally obsessed w you) ... lmk if i missed any ><

★彡 1.4k wc!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ authors note >< : hello hello! i went crazy on this... plz enjoy... a gift for my new fans since you guys are enjoying focus so much! i have three longer fics in the works rn that should be coming out through the next month or two (hopefully..) so stay tuned for those! (one dropping on valentines day so keep an eye out ;3) hope u love rough markie as much as i do <3

Just a few hours ago, you and Mark were tangled in the sheets, the warmth of his body the only thing keeping you grounded as the morning light filtered through the blinds. His breath was soft against your skin, slow and steady, like he was savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. You stirred awake to the feel of his hands gently tracing the curve of your body, fingertips lightly grazing over your skin as if he was memorizing every inch of you.

His lips brushed against your cheek, your jaw, leaving featherlight kisses that made your heart race, your breath hitching as his soft, sweet voice whispered, "You're so beautiful, baby. So perfect just for me."

You melted into him, your own hands reaching up to touch him, feeling the tenderness of his touch, the way his voice wrapped around you like a protective blanket.

It felt like the world was quiet, just the two of you, nothing but warmth and affection. It truly was such a 180 from the way he was fucking you right now, his fingers digging into your hips, harsh and possessive, each thrust coming fast and deep. His cock brutally pounding into you in a way that has your head spinning and walls tightening around him. 

His voice is the same, that soft, low murmur of praise. His hands move down to grip at the back of your thighs, pinning them down against your chest, making you cry out as he pushes himself deeper into your heat. His tip brushing against your cervix, hitting that perfect spot deep inside you that only he could ever reach. 

Mark's breath is warm against your ear, his hands gripping you so tightly it almost hurts, but you can't bring yourself to care. The rhythmic crash of his hips against you mixed with your whiny moans and his desperate grunts filled the room, each thrust pushing you further into the mattress. You can barely catch your breath, his name barely leaving your lips before he's smirking above you, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"You okay, baby?" His voice is so sweet it almost makes you forget how rough he's being. "Making you feel good, yeah?"

You try to nod, but the sharp movement of his hips makes your vision blur with tears. The soft, mocking chuckle he lets out makes it all worse, and before you know it, you're trembling under him, breath shaky, eyes glossy, and mind completely dazed.

"Poor thing," he coos, his voice soft, comforting even. One of his hands slides from your thigh to cup your cheek in his palm, his thumb gently wiping away at the tears streaming down your heated, red tinted skin. "You're crying already, pretty girl?"

You try to hold back a sob, biting your lip in frustration, but the words spill out anyway, "Please, Markie... pleaseー"

He cuts you off, his hand moving from your cheek to harshly slap at your aching clit, all while nearly sliding completely out of you before quickly pushing back inside with a deep thrust. His grin widening at the way your back arched up and cries grew louder. "You like that, don’t you? Like it when I'm rough, baby?” 

You weakly nodded with a small whimper, your nails digging into his back as you clawed at him, leaving marks that would stay. His chest rumbled with laughter, low and dark. Slapping your poor cunt once again before wrapping his hand around your throat slightly and squeezing, not enough to cut off air flow just enough to make you gasp, his cock twitching inside you with each moan and plea that escaped your lips.

The steady, brutal rhythm of his length slamming into you, stretching you out perfectly. Each movement deep and unforgiving. You're barely able to keep your eyes open as your body shakes, and nails digging so deep into him he winced. 

Your body feels like it’s on fire, it feels like your mind is about to shatter, but he doesn't let up. Not even for a second. "m-markie," you manage, but he's not listening. He's too busy watching you fall apart beneath him.

"You're so fucking perfect when you cry for me," he says, voice so sweet it makes your head spin. Another hard thrust and your vision blanks, your whole body a mess of trembling limbs and broken moans. "Thought you could take it... but look at you now."

“m-mark.. ‘m g-gonna-” You started but was completely cut off by his grip around your throat tightening, the guttural moan that left his lips feeling your walls pulse around him was enough to push you over the edge. “Fuuuuuck baby, cum on my cock. Be a good girl.” His voice was deep, commanding even. His hand that’s still on your thigh pushing your leg even closer to you, his pace and roughness somehow managing to deepen. 

He watches your face carefully, delighting in how each hit of pleasure makes you weaker, more desperate. You're a complete mess of overstimulation and desperation and he loves it more than anything.

Your body tensed up, cries and pleads dropping to a stuttering mess of whimpers as your orgasm finally washed over you. You're barely able to respond, barely conscious, your body weak from the overstimulation, every nerve on fire as he continues to pound into you. Your hands weakly dropping to his sides doing everything you can to try and ground yourself, but it's no use, you're too gone, too overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure he's wringing from you.

Mark simply smirks, softly rubbing your thigh yet his thrusts are still relentless, his hands tightening on you, guiding you through the onslaught of pleasure and pain. 

"Baby, you're still so tight," He groans, his voice strained while he ignores your desperate cries for him to stop. He doesn't care. His pace never slows, not even when you try to squirm beneath him, when you can barely breathe, let alone form words. "m-mark.." You manage to breathlessly pant out.

"Can't stop now, baby," Mark murmurs, his voice strained, low. He doesn't slow, doesn't give you any mercy; he's got you pinned, each thrust sending shockwaves through you as he chases his own release. His hand loosens on your throat and travels down to your waist with an unbelievably tight grip. 

His breathing is ragged, every movement desperate as he fights to reach his high. "Such a good baby for me, always take my cock so well." His voice is barely audible, the words only adding to your overstimulation. You're not even sure if you can handle another round, but he's relentless, digging into you as if there's no stopping until he gets what he wants.

Finally, with a low groan, Mark stills above you, his body going rigid as he reaches his release, his cock twitching before he cums deep inside you. The two of you are left in a tangled mess of sweat and exhaustion. He's gripping and holding you even as he breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling in time with yours.

Neither of you can move for a moment, completely spent, hearts pounding in sync as you both come down from the overwhelming sensations. His eyes fluttered open to meet yours for a moment before he looked down, smirking at the ring of both of your releases around his length. 

Slowly, he pulled out, shushing you with a gentle kiss once you whined, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. His lips were soft, reassuring, against your skin as he peppered small kisses down your body, tracing the path from your chest to your tummy. Every touch was delicate, tender. 

His hands were light on your thighs as he parted them slowly, gawking at the way his cum dripped out of your sore hole. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, dark and full of desire. "Look at you," he spoke, voice low and soothing despite the ache in his tone. "my pretty baby. Always so gorgeous when i fill you up." His gaze was filled with admiration, but there was a hunger behind it; he wasn't finished with you yet. 

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, fingers tracing the sensitive skin there before he moved closer, as if drawn to the lingering warmth of your body. He pressed a soft kiss to your bundle of nerves, his grip on your thighs tightening as your legs tensed up. “Don’t move, baby, let me clean you up.” 

love letter from mae 💌 holy moly.. i had completely different intentions when i started plotting this and 100% got carried away LMFAO,,, i hope u enjoyed! mark is so yummy.. this is the quickest ive ever written something lol

ty for reading!! ♥︎♪ヽ(*´∀｀)ﾉ

[yok00k]

pensándote

pairing: yandere!bf!jk x reader

genre: angst, smut

summary: your boyfriend is getting more and more possessive and it's starting to affect your relationship. however, he's willing to change for the better. or you thought so.

warnings: MATURE- shower sex(rough), videotaping, jk hits it from the back, oc called jk 'daddy', ass smacking, cheeks were getting clapped, mentioned lots of sex positions, oc got slutted out, jk is lowkey/highkey toxic, sick, and unhealthy, toxic relationship, attachment issues, argument, jk is a stalker w ill behavior/action, [still in denial], open ending[there might be a next part, depending on how rough life could be], not proof read bc writing this is a silly little hobby

word count: 1,611

a/n: ho i’m back and better than ever!!! note that english is not my first language and I write for funsies>..< (this ff is inspired by rauw's pensandote) — to those who knows a lot of reggaeton bangers plz hmu for recs thx

-Llevo to' el día pensándote

“baby wait up” he calmly pleaded, trying to catch up to you. still, you continue to ignore him.

It was about to be 3 a.m. when you and you boyfriend arrived to your apartment from a girls’ night. you and your homegirls planned to have a night out to have let some loose and have fun, lots of drinks and men hitting on you being involved of course. living the city night life has been the part of your lifestyle. however it doesn’t play a huge part of your life anymore. barely anymore since you’ve established a romantic relationship with jeongguk– your suitor for six months. 

you and jeongguk had the same psychology class last year. oftentimes in that class, you’re either too tired from work or still have a hangover from the party the night before. same parties he goes to just so he can see a glimpse of you from afar, trying his best to see the best view of the entire party while trying to manage being lowkey. 

fortunately, jeongguk, who’s sitting next to you in class and also can’t help but to shift his undivided attention to how you’re struggling in some works in class. as a straight A-student and a gentleman, he frequently lends you his notes and offers you help. why? because for some  strange reason, he cares for you. 

well maybe the care is turning into an obsession. but jeongguk keeps telling himself that he’s being harmless. he simply wants to know.  he’s seen you always go out with your close friends, never with any man. on the days you’re not partying, you pick up extra shifts at a nearby coffee shop. how did he know? luck. just happened to stumble upon the shop one day. he swears it’s all coincidence. 

or at least he hopes so. 

you started to see him so often. at your work, parties, gym, or at the grocery store. again and again that you began to think that this might be destiny. each time you see him, he’s always by himself. minding his own business (or make an effort to seem like it). and it made you a little curious. how come this man doesn’t have any hoe or friends around? you frankly thought ‘maybe just his lifestyle’. one day he finally gets out of his comfort zone and asks you if you would be interested to get to know him. obviously, you’d like to know who he truly is. right?

fast forward after courting you for six months, here you are. coming home from a party with him following behind you. 

you would think that he’s going to stop. it’s unexpected and extreme for what he’s about to do next. 

and there he is, both knees on the ground. his large palms reaching for your cold hands. kneeling before you like a desperate man he is.  He knew exactly what he'd done. “please, let’s fix this”

he used to be fun. less controlling. less obsessive. less possessive. 

“oh now you wanna acknowledge the problem?” you scoffed, finding his sudden behavior ridiculous. “fix what problem? you constantly getting overly possessive and manipulative or you just randomly showing up at the party while me and my friends are in the middle of having fun? for fuck sake Jeongguk, let me fucking breathe for once.” 

you’re beyond frustrated. the upcoming finals have been stressing the shit out of you and all you need is some space to relieve stress. 

“baby, you know I’m just making sure that you’re saf–” he starts off with the excuse he always says, but you’re too quick to call him out. “following me to make sure I’m safe? you’re suffocating me.”

he has no response. he knows it’s true. he’s aware of his excessive actions. no, more like impulses. a thing he can’t control. an itch.  jeongguk can’t seem to fight these urges when he knows that there’s lots of men out there that actively hit on you. and he’s terrified, scared that they’ll steal you from his possession as if you’re his favorite toy to ever acquire. 

“I think we should just end this. it’s becoming toxic.” you stuttered under your breath, gasping a handful of your hair as you shifted your gaze on the side. ‘he’s becoming toxic’ is what you really want to say. 

“I.. I will stop. I will change. let me prove to you that I love you and I only want what’s best for you” he cries, tears slowly rolling on his porcelain face. 

“do you still have trust in me?” 

you wanted to shake your head, say no. 

tragically, your answer is yes. but the real question is will he change for the better? 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

jeongguk is a man of his words and kept his promise.  it had been a couple months after that night and you began to notice the changes in his actions. a huge change. 

your boyfriend stops controlling you in a variety of ways. every time you let him know that you’ve got somewhere to go, all he asks for is your assurance that you’re safe and sound. as long as you’re having the best time, he’ll fully support you to whatever it is. 

some nights that you have to study and do homework, he’d restrain himself  from spamming your inbox. he understood that you have priorities and you’ll get back to him as soon as you can. and you did.

lastly, he recently became more consistent on going to the gym. it makes you extremely happy that he’s investing more time to better himself. physically and mentally. redirecting his focus onto something that’s actually more healthy for him.

 or at least that’s what you think he’s doing.

so far, so good. you feel secure that everything is working well. your relationship is doing good. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

—"Tú desnuda, yo dándote"

“k-koo, right there baby” you begged as he continued to drill his thick cock into you from the back. slow and deep. and oh, raw.  “don’t stop, please.” the lewd sound of your ass clapping against his pelvis echoes in the steamy bathroom. all being captured by your cell phone held by his shaky left hand.

 video taping moments like this helps jeongguk cope with his unhealthy behaviors. whenever he feels a tiny bit of jealousy running through his veins, all he has to do is watch these videos to remind himself of what he has. 

you, in whatever nastiest positions he puts you in: doggy, backshots, against the wall, cowgirl, missionary, etc. this r-rated file collection you’ve got on your phone reminds him of the chokehold he’s got you in. yes, it’s all saved on your phone, but it’s not like he doesn’t have access through your apps and social accounts, let alone your camera roll. you’re all his. no one else’s. his. solely his. furthermore, he’ll make sure that he can guarantee himself so. 

perhaps you don’t need to smoke in order to feel like you’re in heaven right now. going for the 3rd round, your boyfriend still can’t get enough of you. 

supposedly was a quick shower right after the gym session you had with him turned into a long and enjoyable one. 

“yeah? you love getting fuck like this, huh?” his cockiness is on top of the roof, he looks down to watch his veiny shaft disappear inside your pussy just for it to come out and back. he’s got the bestest view. not even a phone camera with flash on can justify that. he then props the camera on top of the toilet, leaning against the wall as it still catches both of your filthy actions. 

seeing how much you enjoy this position– bent down in the nearest sink, one hand gripping onto his wrist while the other clutches on the ceramic white sink. the whimpers coming from your skilful mouth can alone make him bust a nut. 

when he receives no reply, the hand that helps you to stay in place snakes its way to your hair, collecting a fistful before tugging it back.  

“answer, slut” he snapped, demanding an answer from you whilst he proceeds to thrusts in and out. with your eyes rolled back, you’re barely processing what he wants from you. unable to even utter a single proper syllable from how ecstatic he’s making you feel. Indeed, you love being treated like a slut. 

in and out. in and out. in and–

smack 

 a sudden sharp pang on your ass cheek, causing you to moan loudly.  “c’mon my love, you’re still with me. right?” he asks, increasing his pace faster. rougher. 

“hmm y-yea, love the way you feeel” you desperately murmured, still clouded by the glorious dick he’s giving you. 

“m-more,” a single word from you is all that your man needs to hear to continue drilling onto you. rough yet with love. 

“almost there,  daddy” your breath hitches, still struggling to speak.  on the other hand, your words made the man pounding into you even crazier than he already is. he began to notice the signs that you’re about to reach your peak as your walls desperately clenched around him. 

he abruptly comes to a stop. pulls out completely from you, resulting in you to release a whine. 

jeongguk manhandles your fragile body, turning your body to face him. he pats the side of your thigh, insisting you to jump and wrap your  legs around his waist.

“want you to look me in the eyes when you come.” he orders, slowly penetrating into you once again, while being face-to-face with you at the same time. 

 just like his destructive actions filled with obsession, he’s not stopping anytime soon,

is he?

<want to read more? : my m.list>

[littlegochu]

could you plz do a personal trainer taehyung one shot (considering he’s all buffed out rn). imagine he’s your gym crush and you finally get around to asking for pointers and there’s juicy tension

gym crush │ kth 18+

pairing: kim taehyung x reader

genre: gym crush au, fluff, strangers to flirty friends, slice of life

rating: 18+ (explicit content — sexual themes)

synopsis: kim taehyung—known for his silence, his sculpted arms, and the fact that no one’s ever gotten close enough to say more than two words to him.

until me.

i wasn’t trying to get his attention. i was trying not to drop my weights or accidentally pass out mid-squat. but for some reason, he noticed me. corrected my form. watched me like he meant to.

now we train together. he doesn’t talk much. doesn’t flirt. doesn’t even smile unless he’s mid-set and i say something sarcastic. but he’s close. too close. and every glance feels like it means something i’m not ready to admit.

they say he doesn’t get attached. but his hands linger. his eyes stay.

-

set 1: the myth

every girl on campus has a kim taehyung story.

not like real stories. not like “i hooked up with him” or “we matched on tinder.” more like “i saw him bench press 180 with one hand.” or “he looked at me once in the mirror and i haven’t known peace since.”

he’s quiet. never with a group. never at parties. he’s in third-year psych like me, but i’ve never seen him in class. only ever here—shirtless in the weight room, hair pushed back with a bandana, jawline sharp enough to make you rethink every decision you've ever made.

girls flirt with him. he never flirts back. guys nod at him. he never nods back. he’s polite, but distant. beautiful, but untouchable. the kind of boy who could ruin you with a glance and walk away without ever noticing.

i don’t stare. not really. just... occasionally. softly. from a safe distance.

because everyone stares. but he’s never stared back. not until today.

set 2: eyes

i’m squatting in front of the mirror. deep into my fourth rep, knees burning, headphones loud enough to drown out my inner monologue.

and i feel it.

the burn? yes. but also him.

i glance up.

he’s looking straight at me. arms crossed. leaning against the cable machine like he’s sculpted out of shadow and sunlight. his mouth is set. eyes dark. completely unreadable.

i falter.

he doesn’t look away.

i blink. look back down. try to pretend my heart isn’t sprinting faster than my max on the treadmill.

when i sneak another look up—he’s gone.

set 3: "you done w that machine?"

“you done using the machine?”

i look up. he’s standing right there. taller than i remember. realer. sweat still clinging to the edges of his collarbones like it lives there on purpose.

my brain flatlines for a second. he’s talking to me.

i blink once. maybe twice. “uh—yeah. yeah, sorry. go ahead.”

he doesn’t move. doesn’t sit down. just lets his gaze sweep over the machine, then back to me. “you train here often?”

i blink again. was that a line?

“…sometimes,” i say slowly. “you?”

his mouth twitches like it wants to smile, but he doesn’t let it. “haven’t seen you before.”

my heart stumbles. “i come at different times.”

he nods. “maybe that’s why.”

i shift to the side, still unsure if this is small talk or some kind of interrogation. he’s just standing there. not using the machine. not looking away.

and then he adds, voice low, “your form was good.”

i laugh, mostly out of nerves. “what, you check everyone's form or just mine?”

he shrugs, but his eyes stay on me. “just yours.”

my lungs give out for a second. and before i can even think of a comeback— he walks off.

set 4: tension

he doesn’t speak to me again. not right away. but he’s near.

too near.

next to me at the squat rack. behind me during rows. his sets always line up with mine now, like we orbit the same routine.

i catch him watching me in the mirror once. not for long. just long enough to notice. and when i look back—he doesn’t flinch. doesn’t pretend.

he just keeps watching.

set 5: the touch

it’s small. innocent, probably.

i drop my towel. reach to grab it. his hand gets there first.

he holds it out to me, gaze steady.

i mutter, “thanks.”

our fingers brush when i take it. not on purpose. not quite accidental either. his hand is warm. bigger than i thought. veins sharp against his wrist.

he watches me too closely as i wrap the towel over my shoulder.

"careful," he says, like it's an afterthought. but his voice is low. almost amused.

“for what?”

he lifts a brow. “getting used to me.”

and then—again—he walks away.

set 6: the offer

“train with me.”

i don’t turn right away. i need to breathe. he doesn’t sound like he’s joking. he never sounds like he’s joking.

when i glance over, he’s already setting up weights beside mine. like it’s not a question. like he already knows i’ll say yes.

“why?”

“you don’t talk too much.” he shrugs. “i like that.”

i snort. “so this is...a compliment?”

his mouth quirks. not a smile, but close. “don’t get cocky.”

i shake my head. laugh quietly to myself.

but when he hands me a heavier dumbbell than usual, i take it. no questions. no hesitation.

because of course i do. it’s him.

set 7: sweat

“lower,” he says quietly, voice right behind me.

i’m already sweating. not from the bar on my back—but because i can feel him. his hands hovering near my waist. not touching. not quite. but there.

his voice is low. his breath hits the back of my neck every time i exhale. i drop into the squat, eyes forward, jaw tight.

“don’t rush the rep,” he murmurs. “feel the bottom. hold it. then drive.”

it’s a normal cue. basic. but when he says it, it feels like something else entirely.

feel the bottom. hold it. drive.

my fingers tighten on the bar.

i push up. steady. not smooth.

“good,” he says, and i hear the smirk behind the word.

i rack the bar. turn around. he’s too close.

his eyes flicker across my face like he’s checking for something. i don’t know what. but it makes me stand up straighter.

“you okay?” he asks, voice still quiet. almost like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear us.

i nod. “just hot.”

he looks me over—slow. his eyes trail from the sweat clinging to my collarbone down to my waistband, where my tank top has started riding up slightly, exposing the faint line of my hip.

his tongue swipes across his bottom lip.

“yeah,” he says, but it’s not really an answer. just something to fill the silence.

next, we do hip thrusts.

my mistake.

i set the barbell over my hips, settling back on the bench.

he stands behind me. like usual. spotting. watching.

but there’s nothing normal about the way he’s looking at me now. his eyes are lower. darker. waiting.

“go heavier,” he says.

i shoot him a look. “you sure?”

he nods once. “you can handle it.”

i hate how that sentence makes my stomach turn.

i load the weight. start the first rep. my hips rise, slow, steady. the metal bar presses tight against me. my breathing gets shallow.

“keep your knees out,” he murmurs.

i adjust, legs trembling slightly.

“slower at the top,” he says. “don’t rush the squeeze.”

i swear to god, he’s doing this on purpose.

i grind through another rep, jaw locked. his eyes don’t leave my hips.

the bar moves. my body rises. his voice stays calm. smooth.

“you’re shaking,” he notes.

“i’m fine.”

“didn’t say you weren’t.”

our eyes meet.

i don’t blink. neither does he. his gaze drops again—barely noticeable. but enough.

the bar hits the floor. my set’s done. but i feel like i just ran a mile with his hand pressed low on my back.

last are deadlifts.

we load the bar together. his fingers brush mine on the last plate. i pretend i don’t notice. he pretends he didn’t mean to.

but we both know.

i line up. feet grounded. hands set.

he crouches beside me, one arm resting on his knee. his head tips slightly, eyes dragging over the length of my spine.

“don’t look up when you pull,” he says. “keep your neck neutral.”

i nod, swallowing hard.

his eyes don’t move. he stays low as i wrap my fingers around the bar. my body lifts—slow. steady.

his gaze trails up, following the pull.

when i lock out at the top, he says nothing. just stares. mouth parted.

“what?” i ask, breathless.

“nothing,” he says. voice rough now. unsteady. “just… you’re strong.”

my heart stumbles.

“you’ve said that before.”

“yeah,” he murmurs, standing up slowly. “but i mean it more now.”

he’s looking at me like he wants to say something else. but doesn’t.

and i’m standing there, heart racing, sweat sticking to my skin in all the wrong places, still holding onto the bar like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded.

we don’t say anything else.

but it’s loud. so loud between us.

set 8: the ride

“you walking?” he asks, voice low like always.

i’m standing by the water fountain, drenched in sweat, hoodie half-zipped, the hem of my tank top clinging to my skin. my legs feel like they’ve been rung out. my brain’s even worse.

i glance at him. taehyung’s already holding his keys.

“bus,” i say.

he doesn’t like that.

his brow twitches. “alone?”

i nod once.

he stares at me for a beat too long, then tilts his head and murmurs, “i’ll drive you.”

not a question. not even an offer. more like a decision he’s already made.

i should say no. i don’t.

“…yeah. okay.”

-

his car is clean. black leather. smells like cedar and something else—his cologne, maybe. sharp and familiar from how many times he’s spotted me from behind, breath brushing my neck.

he drives with one hand on the wheel. the other rests casually on the console between us, fingers relaxed, dangerous, close.

the silence isn’t awkward. it’s worse. it’s thick.

he doesn’t turn on the music. doesn’t ask where i live. he already knows.

we hit a red light.

i glance at him. he’s leaning back, eyes on the intersection ahead like it’s done something wrong.

“you always this helpful?” i ask, my voice thinner than i meant it to be.

he doesn’t look over.

“only for you.”

my stomach tightens.

“why me?” i ask, softer.

that gets his attention.

he glances sideways, then drags his eyes back to the road.

“you don’t talk just to talk,” he says. “you actually work for your reps. you look at me like you’re not scared.”

“you get close a lot,” i say under my breath.

“you don’t stop me.”

we pull into my building. he doesn’t park. just idles under the streetlight, thumb tapping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing keeping him from saying something reckless.

my seatbelt clicks free. my hand is already on the door.

“wait.”

i pause. his voice is quiet, but not soft. it lands in the space between my ribs and stays there.

i turn to him.

he’s already looking at me.

and for once, he’s not unreadable.

there’s something in his eyes i’ve never seen before. something raw. tight. like the leash he keeps everything on has been fraying this whole time, and i’m the last thread.

“don’t go in yet.”

my pulse skips. i don’t ask why. i just nod.

he doesn’t move at first. doesn’t reach for me. just stares, jaw tense, like he’s trying to decide if touching me now will ruin whatever careful thing we’ve built.

so i reach first.

my hand slides over his. his breath catches.

his fingers wrap around mine, slow, deliberate.

“i wasn’t planning this,” he says quietly.

“i know.”

his other hand lifts—to my thigh, not far from the hem of my shorts. his thumb presses lightly into my skin. not teasing. not demanding. just there.

“you want me to stop?”

my voice barely comes out. “no.”

he leans in.

not fast. not messy. his lips brush mine like he’s waiting for permission—like he wants to be sure this is something we both walk into, not fall.

i close the distance.

his mouth parts. and then it’s heat. tongue. the sigh that leaves him when i climb across the console into his lap like it’s always been mine.

his hands slide up my thighs, slow and steady.

not greedy. not possessive. hungry.

i straddle him fully. my knees wedge on either side of his hips. he lets out a breath against my mouth like he’s been holding it all night.

“fuck,” he whispers. “you feel so good already.”

i kiss him harder. his hands move under my hoodie, palms dragging along my waist, my ribs. he pushes it up, and i lift my arms to help.

he leans back and looks at me—really looks. i’m in my sports bra. flushed. breathing too hard.

he exhales like he’s looking at something he’s not sure he deserves to touch.

“pretty,” he murmurs. “fuck.”

he lifts the hem of the bra and slides it up. i let him. his eyes darken when i’m bare in front of him, nipples tight from the cold and the attention and the way he’s looking at me like he’s ready to kneel for a taste.

he doesn’t go straight for it. instead, he cups one breast with his hand, thumbing over the center until i shiver.

“look at you,” he murmurs. “you’ve been letting me spot you in this. teasing me.”

“i wasn’t—”

he presses his lips to my chest, right over my heartbeat. then higher. then around my nipple, mouth slow and open and warm.

my head falls back. “taehyung—”

he groans into my skin.

“say my name like that again and i won’t last.”

his hand moves down my back, finds the curve of my ass and grabs it—not hard, just enough to pull me against the thick pressure straining beneath me.

“fuck—” i gasp.

he smiles against my chest.

“that’s right. feel what you do to me.”

i grind once—instinctive, desperate. he sucks in a sharp breath, hands digging in harder.

“god, i’ve been patient,” he mutters. “every time you bent over in front of me, every time you looked at me like you didn’t know what you were doing.”

i meet his eyes. “maybe i did.”

his laugh is low. ragged.

“then you’re mean.”

“you like that.”

his eyes narrow. “too much.”

he grabs the waistband of my shorts and tugs them down my thighs. i lift myself to help, watching his face the whole time. he looks dazed. starved.

“you’re so wet already,” he says, voice rough. “fuck.”

his fingers slide between my thighs and pause at my center.

“can i?”

i nod. “please.”

and when he finally touches me—skin to skin—i feel his whole body jolt beneath me.

his fingers slide through the slickness, slow at first, then with more purpose, more pressure, more intent.

he’s breathing heavy now, jaw clenched, thumb brushing my clit with every pass.

“you’re perfect like this,” he whispers. “so responsive. so fucking soft.”

i moan when he adds a finger. then another.

his lips crush against mine as he fucks me slow and deep with his hand, until i’m trembling in his lap, forehead pressed to his.

i’m close. and he knows it.

“come for me,” he says. “i’ve got you.”

my nails dig into his shoulders. my body shakes. and when it happens, it crashes through me hard enough that i forget where i am. his name slips out of my mouth like a prayer.

he holds me through it, kisses me like he means it.

and when i start to settle, chest heaving, sweat cooling on my skin— he leans in, presses our foreheads together again, and says, barely audible:

“i don’t want this to end here.”

i nod, voice gone. “it won’t.”

he lifts me, shifts his seat back. unzips his sweats, pulls himself free—and i see how much he’s been holding back.

i sink down slowly.

he doesn’t rush. doesn’t push.

he just holds me, hands on my hips, forehead still against mine, letting me take him inch by inch until i’m full—aching. trembling.

“look at me,” he whispers.

i do.

his eyes are blown wide. desperate. soft.

“you feel like heaven,” he says. “and i’m not letting this be a one-time thing.”

“good,” i manage to whisper, right before he thrusts.

and then there’s no more talking. just skin, sweat, rhythm. just two people in the dark, holding onto something that feels like everything.

requests open anonymously!

[fluffylino]

no nut november with minho 🍮

you realise eating pudding is his way of controlling himself...

-contains suggestive themes (plz he's pudding boy)

you think minho is great at holding out.

its november and from the very first day of the month, he grumbled about how stupid the whole idea was.

accepting the challenge when you tell him you made a bet with jisung for fun.

both of you being full of pride could not possibly lose to jisung, who you were sure would end up jerking off on the 2nd day of november.

to your surprise, he had faithfully vowed to practice no such actions.

minho, on the other hand seemed to get through his days fine. a little too fine, because even you found it difficult to not drool over your boyfriend.

you know him to the extent that you know how he sticks to challenges.

there is no way he would ever let y'all lose against jisung. just so he could rub it in his friend's face about being the winner.

he does the normal things he does. washing up, sitting with his head on your lap after a long day, eating pudding with you.

lots and lots of pudding.

dozens of them stacked in the lower shelf of the fridge.

its the 26th of november and you have to admit its getting harder and harder. for you atleast.

"min, whatcha doing in the fridge?"

you walk into the kitchen, finding him crouched down. he had been there for longer than five minutes.

"mmhmm" is all you make out with what he's saying.

"huh?" walking over to him in confusion.

"m' eating pudding" he tries to say more clearly. and you peek over the fridge door to see three empty glasses of pudding.

"didn't you just eat pudding like two hours ago?"

and he blinks at you extremely slowly.

still seated on the floor with a glass of pudding in his hand. keeping his eyes locked on yours as he feeds himself another spoonful.

in defiance. like a cat doing something its not supposed to do but would do it anyway to prove that its not listening to you.

"you're an addict. i swear, you're addicted to pudding!"

you laugh. patting his head even though you know the risks of doing that.

"a man needs his pudding to keep going"

minho mumbles while going as far as to tipping his head back to lick the inside of the container clean. it does something to you and you mentally slap yourself.

if he was so good at keeping himself sane, you were sure you could do it too.

"theres caramel on your nose pfft"

the thick sugary substance painting the tip of his nose. theres some more on his chin and...

"minho, you have it on your cheek too!"

it was getting funnier. and he glared at you, clearing his throat.

"i was hungry." he mutters, packing up the other puddings. you notice his eyebrows furrowing in discomfort when he stands up.

typical old man behaviour.

"give me a hug" you whisper, wanting to actually hug him.

maybe being close to him would make your unforgiving sex deprived mind shut off for a while.

"no" closing the fridge and placing his hands on his hips.

"minhooo give me a hug, please?"

standing on your tip toes to peck the tip of his nose. he turns his head away, trying to control his expressions.

you take the chance to catch him off guard, jumping onto him to tackle him into hugging you. he playfully matches your energy until he freezes in your hold.

"ah-"

a small moan escaping his lips. his eyes widening while he bites down onto his bottom lip. stopping any other noise from leaving him.

your mouth dropping open in shock when you feel his hard-on pressing against your thigh.

"did you get a boner-"

"no."

he whispers, masking his surprised expression with faux annoyance. you squint at him with a glimmer of mischief in your eyes.

"were you eating pudding to distract yourself?"

"...no."

placing his hands on your shoulders to lightly push you away. creating some distance between your bodies.

"im not that deprived, trust me" minho mumbles quietly. your lips pursed together.

"what if i say its getting harder for me..." you mutter, moving closer to him. he doesn't stop you.

"really, baby? can't live without my dick for a month?"

you stay silent. looking away from him sadly. you're not embarassed anymore.

because now you know how he copes when he gets horny. pudding!

"...can't live without you either" and you smile. happy that he admits it.

he groans, throwing his head back dramatically. squeezing his eyes closed.

"god, i can't stop imagining you crying my name when i push into you. its haunting me. for fuck's sake"

minho grumbles, groaning when you hug him again. his arms wrapping around you.

"and i can't stop thinking of you pushing my head down into the bed while you fuck me from behind"

you pull your phone out of your pocket hastily when it buzzes nonstop.

"its jisung..."

"what'd he say?"

"he...LOST!"

you shriek. practically jumping onto minho. trusting him entirely. he picks you up with no struggle.

"does that mean..."

"yes. im fucking you. right now."

"but november isn't over!"

"jisung lost. our opponent lost. that means this stupid no nut shit doesn't apply to us anymore" he grumbles. you catch onto him tight when he practically darts to your shared bedroom.

"admit it...you missed it, didn't you"

a huge smile on his face. a glimmer of pure happiness in his eyes. like how he'd look at his favourite pudding.

"have you ever seen me this excited before-"

.

.

.

.

.

.

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pudding boy lino. i watched his whole live and then ate pudding🍮

[mrsriddlenott]

~ JB’s Little Sister ~

JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

Warnings: smut, weed, creampie, breeding kink mentioned, a bit of spit kink but barely, hair pulling, kinda choking kink but barely. Barely proofread, plz point out mistakes.

{masterlist}

————

JJ knew it was wrong, but he was absolutely obsessed with the youngest Routledge sibling. It really boiled over when you were both in high school; he absolutely loved having the excuse to be near you all day. He was a year older and knew John B would lose it if he found out it was more than jokes. But he was unashamed in his decade of flirting, so much so that he genuinely thought he was gonna die when you left the island for your freshman year of college. And when you came back for summer, it was like a dam broke in his mind; he couldn’t hold back.

“God, I’ve missed you.” JJ groaned as he and John B ran to tug you into a hug, tripping over himself right in front of you before he could reach your arms, making you laugh and give your brother the first hug. He pops up immediately, tugging you back by your waist before you can follow your brother into the Chateau, where the rest of your friends wait. “Get the fuck back here, I needa hug from my favorite girl.”

“I swear you missed me more than JB did.” You laugh, jumping up, fully prepared for him to catch you, and he does, unabashedly letting his palms rest on the exposed flesh at the base of your shorts as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Y’know it, Mama.” His voice was deeper and laced with want, placing you back down onto your feet after squeezing you tightly. JJ lets his hands rub up your waist as you slide down his toned body before he steps back from you, wetting his lips, finally getting a good look at you after so long of only FaceTime. You lock your hands around his neck, smiling up at him in a way that would surely get you yelled at by John B had he seen.

“What would I do without you?” You ask, your smile wide as you look up to him. Finally allowing yourself to show him everything you wanted to for so long.

“Crash and burn, of course,” He tugs you around under his arm, resting his toned bicep on your shoulder as he directs you into the Chateau for the first time since you left last fall. John B. pops his head out the door, watching you both as you approach him.

“What the hell is taking you so long?” He snaps, making you roll your eyes as you shove past him, begrudgingly letting JJ’s arm fall from your shoulders. As you finally step into your home, you’re bombarded with hugs and welcomes, making your way into the center of the group, sitting in your regular spot in rotation right across from JJ’s. Something JB ensured as soon as he caught onto your infatuation with his best friend. But after practically living on your own for an entire school year, you were tired of your older brother taking control over your life. You had a plan, and you knew it would work.

“So what are you doing your first weekend back?”Kie asks, passing the joint they had rolled for your return your way as you try and ignore JJ’s burning gaze on you. You give yourself time to work out the best response as you take your hit, puffing on the joint again to fill your lungs a little extra before passing it off. You catch the way JJ’s Adam’s apple bobs, his eyes watching you blow the smoke past your lips as though he were in a trance.

“Well, don’t get mad, but do you remember my ex, the one I broke it off with junior year?” You ask, plucking at a loose thread on your shorts, looking around at everyone but JJ’s reaction.

“That douchbag kook who was too old for you and didn’t deserve you?” John B asks sarcastically, “Yeah, how could I forget?” He rolls his eyes, puffing on the joint as you laugh at his annoyance. You let yourself steal a glimpse at JJ buying yourself time as the joint makes its rounds, catching the way his jaw clenches and his eyes darken. You smile to yourself, looking to the floor and feigning ignorance of his reaction.

“Yes, Tyler, he found out I was gonna be back for the summer and he asked me to get dinner later, I said I would but that it doesn’t necessarily mean we’re getting back together,” You shrug your shoulders as though it was nothing, watching JJ take his hit, his hard eyes remaining trained onto you with fire blazing behind them.

“Necessarily?!” Pope blurts out with a fake laugh, “Isn’t Tyler the asshole college dude me and JJ had to put in line a few years ago?” You feel yourself starting to laugh at Pope’s scoff of annoyance, remembering how he was always just as protective as your brother when it came to you starting to date.

“It doesn’t mean anything, okay, it’s just for fun.” You shrug, ignoring the smirk Sarah sends your way as JJ begins to fume in his spot. You roll your eyes playfully away from her, smiling as she clearly picks up on what you were doing.

“That’s what you say when something definitely means something.” JJ pipes up, trying to stop his teeth from gritting together as your eyes avoid him again.

“I don’t know this guy, but if he’s fun, I think you should have your fun,” Cleo states with a smile before standing and tugging Pope off with her. You shake your head, laughing as you fake a disgusted look in their direction.

“I will not be having that kind of fun.” You state, finally locking eyes with JJ, tilting your head slightly, challenging him to break eye contact first. His blown out pupils contrast against his ocean blue eyes as he holds your gaze only breaking it when John B stands up beside you.

“Yeah, right. Just don’t bring him back here, I can’t promise I’ll remain civil this time.” Your brother laughs at your dramatic eye roll, despite knowing he was only half joking. Your eyes meet Sarah’s, your eyebrows arching for a split second before she gets your request. You hold back a sigh at watching your plan fall perfectly into place, Sarah hopping off the couch she was occupying to tug at her boyfriend's wrist.

“And what were you and Sarah going to be doing? Hm lemme think…” JJ finally laughs at your words, watching the way you jokingly tap your chin as the pair retreat into the Chateau towards John B’s bedroom. Sarah giggling, winking back at you over her shoulder, fully supporting you in your endeavors, unlike your brother.

“And I think that would be my cue,” Kie says between laughs, shaking her head in mock disappointment, “I hope you two know what you’re doing.” She states in a sing-song voice before slipping out the door and out of sight. You watch JJ’s confused face, his eyebrows furrowed adorably watching her leave, his lips trying to form a question as he mutters confusedly before she’s gone.

“Wanna come hotbox the Twinkie with me, Jay?” You stretch out towards him, kicking his thigh softly, snapping his eyes back to yours. He caught the twinkle in your eyes, the slight tilt to your head, and part of him already knew.

And with one decision, he ended up getting everything he wanted.

“You don’t even gotta ask Mama.” JJ responds excitedly, immediately hopping up in front of you as he reaches his ring-clad hand down to take yours, “M’lady?”

~~~~

“Come on, he’ll never know, I swear,” JJ begged, continuing the non-stop flirting he’d started from the second he began rolling a blunt for you both. Ever since you mentioned you had a date, his “jokes” started to feel more and more serious, making your giddy excitement skyrocket as you slowly push yourself closer to him in your seat.

“John B would literally kill you if he found out,” you laugh, taking a puff off the blunt before passing it off to him again. “He doesn’t care that I’m in college now and more responsible than him; he’s overprotective.”

“Then I would die happy, Baby,” He states, shrugging his shoulders as he hits the blunt, blowing the smoke directly in your face from across him, “You know me, imma’ daredevil.”

“See you don’t even actually want me Jay, you just like the chase,” Your eyes meet his through the haze of smoke slowly filling the Twinkie, “You think it would be hot to sneak around.” You fill your voice with teasing interest, knowing he would pick up on the change in your tone immediately.

“It would be really hot, yeah but you’re also one of my best friends.” His breathless voice takes you by surprise as he leans forward to hand you the blunt, letting his fingers brush yours for too long, catching your eyes again and forcing you to maintain eye contact. He does love a chase, but the excitement of finally hearing your interest after so long of getting the cold shoulder sends him reeling more than the desperation for your attention that John B denied him ever did.

“Which should discourage you, Jay.” He watches the way your eyebrow raises with your tone, wetting his lips as his brain reminds him of the many times he watched you flirt at the Boneyard, taking charge and wrapping some poor sucker around your finger for the night. His heart started to race, a smile growing on his lips when he took note of your tell.

You were finally flirting back.

“Well, it doesn't, and I don’t care about no pogue on pogue anymore either, Sweetheart, I do genuinely want you.” JJ tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth, watching your face, and he can tell he’s finally got you, “And if John B kills me and dumps my body in the marsh, so be it.”

JJ watched your lips wrap around the blunt sucking in your hit it, blue eyes bouncing from the smoke pouring past your lips to your eyes still locked onto him. “Wanna shotgun it, Jay?” You blurt out, smiling teasingly as you push yourself impossibly closer to him on the bench in the back of the Twinkie. Loving the way his eyes found yours immediately, swallowing thickly while he nods.

“Yes, yes, I do.” His hands found your waist as though it was second nature, pulling you into his lap where you rest your weight with a sigh. Your eyes stay locked in his gaze, taking a long drag to properly fill your mouth with the warm smoke. You watch JJ’s face intently before tugging his mouth up to yours with his stubbled chin. You ghost your lips against his, letting them touch each other just slightly while you pass him your hit. You lean back in his lap to watch as his eyes flutter shut, feeling the way his fingers grip your hips as he inhales the smoke you gave him.

“Y’like that Baby?” You ask, and a moan vibrates through his body and into yours at the sound of the nickname, a smile subconsciously covering his face as his eyes stay closed. You take the opportunity to put out the smoking blunt in the ashtray behind you, letting your now free hands roam across his chest and shoulders as you pull yourself back to him.

“I think I’m dreamin’, Sweetness,” He sighs, his hands dancing up and down your waist, gripping at your flesh everywhere he stops. You giggle above him, wiggling your hips against the growing bulge in his shorts and sending a shiver down his body.

“You’re not Jay,” You whisper, resting your hands on his shoulders, as his eyes flicker open to watch you, “Do you wanna kiss me?” Your voice comes out soft despite the confidence you feel, slightly rocking your hips against him as he nods desperately.

His hand rubs its way up your back, gripping the back of your neck and smashing your lips into his. The kiss is heated as soon as you touch, years of pent-up feelings urge you both further, your lips fighting each other as you moan into his mouth. You graze your tongue against his bottom lip, asking for entrance, making him groan into you, gripping your lower waist harder, tugging you impossibly closer, and shoving his tongue past your gasping lips. You laugh into the kiss, sighing as you grind into him, feeling him entirely through his and your own shorts. The taste of his spit coating your tongue, sending a wave of excitement through you, the puddle in your panties growing as you swirl your tongue against his, coating your mouth in his saliva.

JJ pulls back suddenly, his blown-out eyes watching your face intently as you whine for him to come back. Your brows furrowing, your fingers tugging at his shirt collar, desperate to have his taste on your lips again. “Jayy, come on.” You beg, bucking against his hard bulge again desperately.

“You’re not just doin’ this because the weed, though, right?” He asks, his voice desperate and strained. You laugh, tugging him closer by his shoulders, grinding into his lap harder and tangling your fingers in his hair to tug on it hard.

“You are absolutely clueless. I have been obsessed with you for years. Why do you think JB hates us being alone together?” You drag your lips against his neck as you speak, feeling the way he twitches against you, itching to finally get you the way he needed, “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of ridin’ you in this van.”

“I’ve thought about taking you in damn near every position, everywhere on this fucking island.” He responds, holding back a moan at the feeling of you pressing against him.

“Well, no one can stop you now because I say what you can and can’t do to me.” He growls as he smashes his lips back onto yours. Maneuvering your body so you lay under him across the bench of the van, one hand disappearing between your bodies, tugging at the button on your shorts to let his hand fall into them. He circles his finger slowly against your clothed clit, laughing as his eyes find yours again, your brows furrowing and your mouth falling open, “You’re so fucking wet.” He laughs out, his free hand drifting to wrap softly around your neck, tugging you towards him again and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

He moans against your tongue as your hand falls to palm him through his shorts, making him pull back quickly, the clank of his belt coming undone so quickly, sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes follow his movements, entranced by him, watching as he tugs his shorts and boxers down together, letting himself spring free. His tip bounces against his lower abdomen, making him hiss lightly, his hand falling to stroke himself slowly, thumbing his leaking tip as his free hand springs into action. He tugs your shorts and panties down in quick, smooth motions, sighing heavily when he spreads your thighs to get a look at you. His hand speeds up at the sight of your glistening folds, groaning into his kiss bruised lip while you desperately wiggle your hips below him. His thumb moves subconsciously, pulling one of your sticky lips to the side and watching as they clap back together when he releases it, growling at the sight of how wet he can make you.

His eyes meet yours, groaning as he feels your hand replacing his on his cock. His fingertips ghost against your thighs, slowly working their way up your body, catching on the tank top you wear to slowly pull it up your chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Sweetheart, look at you, your nipples are all perky for me.” His tongue swipes against his lips before he dives into your chest, tugging your shirt off fully over your head and tossing it behind him before swirling his warm tongue against your hard nipple. Your fingers of your free hand get lost in his hair, tugging lightly as the other moves lower palming his tightening sack as he moves to suck your other nipple into his mouth. Groaning and moaning into your flesh, biting your nipple, and making you whine underneath him.

“Please fuck me Jay, I wanna feel you inside me already.” JJ pushes himself up, his strong arms framing your face as he watches you, spit coating his lips and making them glisten. His brows furrow in pleasure as your hand picks up speed between your bodies, “Please, Baby, I need you.” You emphasize your words with a squeeze of your fingers, slowly drifting your hand up, ghosting your fingers against his tip, and feeling him twitch in your palm before tugging your hand away. Quickly, you drift your hand up his shirt, digging your nails into his chest and dragging them down his abdomen, marking him as he shudders above you. “Take your fucking shirt off and fuck me already JJ, or I swear you won-“

JJ pushes off of you immediately, pulling his shirt off over his head in a flash before falling back onto you. Holding his weight on his arm beside your head, as his free hand falls to line himself up at your entrance. His fingers tangle in your hair at the side of your head, his lips capturing yours as his tip slowly slips into your drenched center, “You’re so fuckin’ needy, been waitin’ too long for this to not take it slow with you.” He gasps against your lips, breathing heavily as he slides into you slowly, letting his hand drift up to wrap around your neck possessively, “I want you to feel every bit of me, Baby.”

“It’s not like this is never gonna happen again Jay,” You moan, his cock stretching you out, sending your juices leaking past him and onto the blanket below you as he slowly penetrates you, “Unless you didn’t want t-“

“Shut the fuck up,” JJ growls, snapping his hips into you and cutting you off with a moan as he fills you completely, “I know you won’t be able to get enough of me after this, but don’t worry imma fuck you every chance you give me. I can feel you clenching around me already, Gorgeous, so don’t play because I’m in charge now.”

He pulls out slowly, his eyes falling to watch his glistening skin as he slips out of you. His tip rests inside you while you pucker around him, desperately trying to suck him back into you. His bright blue excited eyes bounce to yours, your brows furrowed adorably, your teeth digging into your lip. He thrusts into you, filling you back up and forcing your mouth open with a moan. His hips start to rock against you, setting a slow but rough pace as he dips his head to catch your lips in a slow, passionate kiss, matching the desperate thrusts of his hips against yours.

JJ’s thrusts speed up, dragging against your twitching walls and hitting your cervix each time. He twitches inside you as your tongue swirls around his, moaning in your mouth and letting his hand fall down your neck to your chest, stopping for only a second to squeeze at your breast before continuing his descent. You gasp into his mouth as his fingers find your clit again, circling over it and dropping his lips to kiss down your neck.

JJ speeds up his finger’s movement as his pace slows, trying to control himself. The feeling of your walls clenching around him, your slick sticking to him every time his balls slap against you, pushing him dangerously close to the edge. Your hips move desperately, trying to speed up your own release as JJ holds himself back. His teeth dig into the skin at the base of your neck, groaning as your hands dance across his muscular back. Dipping low enough to grab at his ass before drifting their way back up, dragging your nails against his shoulders and making him shudder.

"Please, Jay, faster," You gasp, clutching JJ's shoulders as he pounds into you slowly, letting your nails dig into his skin with each thrust. “Faster Jay I’m gonna cum,” You practically scream as his fingers rub into you impossibly faster, his hips digging into you deeper as he speeds up his thrusts again.

"You gotta be quiet, Gorgeous, this thing ain't soundproof." He laughs, pushing himself above you, one hand resting beside your head, taking a second to glance out the fogged windows of the Twinkie before looking back to your closed eyes and furrowed brows. His eyes glance down your body, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly as you gush around him, slowing his fingers as you come undone below him. The band in your abdomen finally snaps, forcing you to arch into him, your nails digging down his back and leaving bright red marks behind. JJ pulls his hand from between you, sucking it into his mouth and moaning before letting it fall to your cheek, pushing your hair back as he attempts to maintain a steady pace, fucking you into oblivion as he watches your face contort in pleasure.

“Look at me.” His voice is laced with dominance, breathing heavily above you as he watches your eyes flicker open, staring up at him desperately. With a groan, his mouth finds yours again, your moans mixing together while he pulls all the way out, slamming back into you and making you gasp into his mouth. Allowing his tongue to explore yours as his hips speed up even faster to a brutal pace, shaking the van with each thrust. You should be worried someone will see, but you’re too fucked out to care right now.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as his hand falls to steady himself on your hip, looking for anything to grab onto, latching onto reality. You tug at his hair aggressively as he bites your lip, locking your legs around his waste, whining out a moan into him as his cock hits deeper inside you making you pull his hair even harder subconsciously. Your whole body begins to twitch with overstimulation as JJ moans desperately above you, his hips stuttering and his breath shudders, “Do that again, now.”

You do as you're told, moaning as his hips snap against you at an erratic, random pace when you do. “You gonna cum Jay?” You ask, your voice breathless and squeaky post orgasm.

“Mhmm, tryna convince myself I wanna pull out right now though, Sweetheart.” His eyes squeeze shut, clenching his fingers onto your hip. His fingernails digging into your skin, trying to control himself.

“No, don’t, please don’t, Jay,” you whine, locking your legs around him tighter, tugging him fully against you as he groans and moans into your neck. He whines loudly, pushing into you, his tip kissing against your cervix as you feel his hot cum paint your walls. He stills completely, dropping his weight onto you, his cock twitching inside of you as he empties himself into you.

“If I get you pregnant,” JJ huffs, pushing himself up on shaky arms to watch your face, “Your brother is definitely gonna kill me.”

“No, he would never kill JJ Jr” You laugh breathlessly, JJ’s eyes following the way your chest moves before dropping to look at where he sits inside of you. The ring of the creamy mixture of your release at his base drives him absolutely insane, sending his head spinning with excitement.

“Fuck, I guess I have a breedin’ kink now,” He groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, leaving wet kisses against the warm flesh there, “Thanks for that Princess.”

JJ pushes off of you to watch as he pulls out, his intense eyes staring as your mixed release flows out of you and onto the seat below. You wiggle your hips teasingly with a tired smile before he snaps out of it. Shaking his head with a laugh as he bends over to tug his bandana free from his shorts, swiping it against your overstimulated clit as he cleans you of the sticky residue coating you.

You both redress in a comforting silence, both giggling together when you flip the blanket covering the bench of the Twinkie to the clean side. Your eyes meet his for a second too long, your shared laughter stopping slowly as he stares at you with soft eyes, his smile only growing as you lean into him. Your lips melt together in a soft, welcoming kiss before parting with a sigh. JJ’s hand falls to the ashtray sitting in the front of the van, relighting the half-smoked blunt before passing it off to you. You sigh contentedly, smiling up at him, happy that everything still feels so normal.

Once the Twinkie is filled with the scent of weed and not the evidence of your previous activities, you slide the door open. The smoke falls around you as you squint at the light change. JJ sits on the floor of the Twinkie with his legs hanging out the side door, looking at you as you stretch your arms and legs. You catch sight of John B as he emerges from the door of the Chateau, quickly walking his way towards you. You chuckle, thinking of how lucky you are he chose to come looking just after you and JJ both found your way out of the steaming van. You can feel John B’s suspicion seeping off of him like a palpable entity as he approaches, making you laugh and turn to JJ behind you. His eyes popping up off your ass and to your eyes quickly before noticing his best friend approaching over the yard behind you.

“What are you two doing?” Your brother snaps, eyeing you as you roll your eyes back to him.

“Jus’ smoking JB, I got bored waiting for you, so Jay took care of me.” JJ holds back a laugh at your words, poking his tongue into his cheek while his eyes fall to the ground at his feet.

“I thought I said years ago I didn’t want you two smoking alone together.” John B states, suspicion laced in his voice and eyes. A look of disgust forms on his face when he eyes the Twinkie, seemingly looking for “clues” he will never find.

“And I distinctly remember telling you I can hang out with whoever I want. I’m an adult now, just like you, so untwist your panties.” His brows furrow in suspension once again, looking back at you desperately trying to decipher what the look in your eyes means. His gaze bounced between you and his best friend, unsure if he should trust his gut or let it go.

“Is something going on with you two?” John B asks, his voice dropping to a whisper as if this were all a giant public scandal.

“Uh, yeah, we’re friends.” You state with a dramatic roll of your eyes before slipping past your brother. You turn to catch JJ’s eyes over your shoulder, sending him a wink and watching him try to hide his smirk.

“Don’t you have a date to get ready for?” JB yells after your retreating form, not noticing the way JJ’s eyes lingered on you as well, eagerly awaiting your answer.

“Nope, I’m canceling, decided you were right, Tyler is a douchebag.” You don’t miss the proud smile JJ wears as you flit into the Chateau, ignoring the look your brother gives his best friend when he notices as well.

————

[lascvitae]

idk if ur taking reqs but can i plz request niki trying to play games while u grind on his lap

ᝰ.ᐟ katty gonna go say gamer bf niki in my mirror 3 times brb

ᝰ.ᐟ warnings/tags. smut (18+) 西村力 x fem!reader dry humping (kinda) riding size kink 18O3wc degradation praise kink (if you squint) creampie (use condoms!!!) squirting overstimulation pet names (baby, pretty face/pretty girl), niki is possessive n a lil mean ───── ꒰ 𝓿ault. ꒱

“NIKI.” YOU MURMUR AGAIN, VOICE low and syrupy sweet. your hips move in slow circles on his lap.

his breath catches. he doesn’t look at you, eyes locked onto the screen in front of him like it’s the only thing keeping him in reality. but you can feel how hard he is under you.

you shift again, dragging yourself across the thick bulge in his sweats like you’re starving for friction. and maybe you are.

“i can feel you throbbing.” you whisper, letting your fingers trail up his stomach under his shirt. “you like when i grind on you like this, baby?”

he doesn’t answer. not with words, at least. his head tips back slightly, jaw clenched tight. his hand on the mouse twitches.

you hum, satisfied. you lean back just enough so he can feel every inch of your heat through the lace, slick and already soaking through, smearing over the fabric of his sweats every time you roll your hips again.

“you’re gonna cum in your pants before you even touch me. poor baby can’t even focus, can you?” you tease, kissing up his neck with a giggle.

“stop.” he mutters, but it’s weak. your nails trace lightly over his chest. “but you’re so hard for me.”

you push your hips down, grinding just right until you feel him jerk under you.

“fuck.” he chokes out, one hand flying to your waist. “you wanna get fucked right here?”

“please. can’t wait anymore.” you whisper, lips brushing his.

he pushes the headset off his head, finally grabbing your thighs with both hands and groaning. he shoves his sweats down just enough to free his cock, already leaking at the tip. you suck in a breath at the sight of it, cunt fluttering.

he smirks. “what? you scared now?”

“n-no.” you whisper, eyes locked on him.

“then sit.”

his fingers hook in your panties and drag them to the side. your slick clings to the fabric and he grips your hips and lines himself up, pushing against your entrance.

“eyes on me. wanna see your pretty face when you take it.” he mutters, grabbing your jaw and forcing your gaze up.

you nod quickly, starting to sink down. your mouth drops open as he stretches you open inch by inch, spreading your walls around him. you moan helplessly.

he grins, catching your reaction. “you gonna take it, baby? gonna let me stretch stretch you out?”

“fuck— niki— too big—”

“nah. said you couldn’t wait, remember? so take all of it.” he says, fingers grabbing your hips as he pulls you down farther.

you slide down inch by inch, walls stretched around his length. it makes your toes curl, and when you finally bottom out, sitting fully in his lap, he groans like he’s about to lose it.

“feel that? feel me in your stomach?” he whispers, voice right in your ear.

you nod frantically. he kisses your jaw and then thrusts up into you. hard.

you cry out, hands scrambling to his shoulders as your body jolts.

“ride me. bounce, baby. make that pussy work for it.” he pants.

you start moving, bouncing in his lap. every time you drop, it’s loud. he watches you like he’s hypnotized. “look at you. taking every inch like a good little slut.”

“i’m trying—” you whimper, voice shaking.

“don’t try. take it.” he says, slapping your ass hard enough to make you jolt.

he grips your hips harder, dragging you down while he fucks up into you, making your eyes roll back.

“you close? gonna cum with me stuffing you full?” he whispers, thumb brushing your clit now.

“y-yes, niki, please— feels so good—”

“do it. cum for me, baby.” he snaps, voice tight, thumb rubbing messy fast circles into your clit now.

your mouth drops open and he doesn’t slow down. his length drags deep inside you with every bounce, stretching you open so good your body jerks with every thrust. he’s not letting you set the pace anymore, fucking up into you while keeping you in his lap like you’re his favorite toy.

your body seizes up, orgasm ripping through you. your legs tremble, nails digging into his shoulders, cunt gushing around his cock.

“fuck— baby— shit, look at that.” he pants, watching your slick squirt out, wetting his sweats and dripping down his balls.

you’re gasping, hips twitching as he keeps fucking you through it. he thrusts up once and spills into you with a low, strained groan. he keeps you full, not even pulling out as you feel his cum deep inside of you.

and then his headset mic flicks back on.

“yo, sorry. my bad. lagged out or some shit.” he mumbles breathlessly, still buried in you. his hand lazily grips your thigh and you just blink in response.

“don’t move. you’re my good luck charm.” he whispers while smirking, still twitching inside you.

taglist @saysirhc @blissfulflw @yuyuy90

[satorusweetheart]

cam girl! reader x gojo satoru

the private stream begins, and his pants are pooled around his ankles, his oozing cock fitted between his thick fingers. gojo strokes himself in anticipation, groaning when you finally pop up on his screen.

“hi satoru, thank you for being my top viewer.” your voice is dripping with honey, so sweet, so innocent. gojo thinks he's going to cum on the spot thinking about the way you say his name.

"you don't have to thank me, sweetheart," he says out loud, knowing you can't hear him. instead, he quickly types it into the chat, watching how your eyes light up when reading his message.

"do you wanna see what i have on? i wore it just for you." you tilt the camera down, revealing the matching set you're wearing. not to mention how you've paired them with stockings and a garter belt. gojo thinks he's ascended to heaven, and you only continue to make his head spin. "do you remember these? you bought them from my wish list."

you look so sexy baby. he types. you only giggle, thanking him for his compliment. your hands linger over your breasts, playing with them ever so slightly, and it makes his cock twitch. especially with the way you tug down the cup, popping your finger into your mouth and then swirling your digit against your perky nipples. you let out a soft moan, throwing your head back slightly.

although, you stop abruptly, looking straight into the camera, causing gojo's breath to hitch. his heart racing, waiting to see what you're going to do next.

"what's your favourite color?"

blue. he's very swift with his response, not missing a beat. you laugh softly. "well, i have just the thing for you, then."

you brought out a kinky little toy: a baby blue vibrator, the kind that simultaneously plunged into your pussy while also stimulating your clit. gojo only jerked himself off faster.

"do you like it?" fuck baby i love it.

bringing your legs up onto the chair you're sitting on, your clothed cunt is on full display while you gently pull those adorable panties to the side. gojo basks in the fact that you're literally dripping—and it's just for him.

stretching yourself out, the toy buzzes, and gojo feels himself loosing his sanity. you've become a moaning little mess, gushing over the vibrator. he imagines it as his cock, dipping into your sweet, sweet hole, his flushed tip bumping onto your cervix, suffocating in your gummy walls. he fucks his fists, phone shaking as he feels himself getting closer and closer.

you'd take my cock so well bb. he lets out a load groan, hearing the lewd sounds you're making, whispering how you'd love to ride him, how you want him buried deep inside you.

"im so close, satoru, please cum with me." you plead, voice trembling and toes curling.

yea bb im so fckn close

"i'm cumming, i'm cumming- fuck!" your body shakes, clenching around the baby blue toy. you scream out for him, panting excessively. that's when gojo comes undone.

he bites down on his t-shirt, the pace of his wrist is unrelenting until he, too, reaches the end. hot white ropes squirt from his tip, his shaft throbbing with bliss. he takes a minute to catch his breath

i came so fckn hard

i need to see u in person

fuck plz bb

you giggle playfully at his comments, leaning towards the camera. "i might have to take you up on that offer, since you're my biggest fan afterall."

[kxsagi]

haii i love ur writing! can i request a sassy s/o who has a lot of attitude with the bllk boys specifically sae n nagi plz thank yewww

“𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐮𝐩”

a/n: hiii thank youuu i love this so much!!!

suggestive content inside! 

ft. itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, kaiser michael, mikage reo, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, chigiri hyoma

itoshi sae

you and sae are like that terrifyingly hot couple that everyone thinks is about to break up in public, but it’s just foreplay. 

you’ll go “wow, you’re so full of yourself it’s actually impressive” and he’ll smirk like “and yet you’re still full of me every weekend.” 

he eats your sass like candy. feeds off of it. he will literally poke you just to hear your attitude. 

“you got fans today,” he’ll say after a game. “jealous? don’t worry, i only kiss men who know how to pass.” “ouch. but accurate.” 

your entire relationship is you calling him out and him grinning because he's sick in the head and that's how he knows you're the one. 

he’s never been in love with anyone this loud before. he thinks it’s so sexy that you bite back harder than his ego. 

nagi seishiro

you are the chaos to his sleepy. the thunder to his nap. 

“sei, you’ve been lying there for five hours.” “and?” “you’re becoming part of the furniture.” 

you’ll sass him and he just blinks slowly and says “okay.” like you didn’t just destroy him with words. 

you threaten to fight him and he just holds your hand and says “at least die holding me.” he’s not built to argue. he’s built to submit. 

deadass gets turned on when you get mad. you once called him a walking mattress and he smiled like you told him he was beautiful. 

never argues back. he’s lazy, not suicidal. 

isagi yoichi

isagi never knew love could come with so many insults. 

you told him "you’d be nothing without spatial awareness and me" and he just smiled like you said you loved him. 

man gets flustered so fast. you call him “mr. tactical genius” with the nastiest tone and he still goes “thank you 🥰” 

he’s the type to try and assert himself, be like “love, maybe lower your tone in front of my team–” and you go “maybe raise your standards, i’m the best thing here.” 

his teammates have seen you fight. no hands, just pure attitude. you once stared down a fan who asked for a selfie a little too friendly and said, “get the fuck back before you catch feelings and an elbow.” 

the team now refers to you as "mrs. isagi" out of fear. 

isagi thinks you’re a blessing. a very loud, sometimes terrifying, endlessly hot blessing. 

itoshi rin

rin is in his quiet boyfriend era, and you're the zero filter girlfriend who’d pick violence before 9 AM. 

he’ll say “don’t embarrass me today” and you immediately go, “you already do that by speaking.” 

he never argues. he just goes silent. like you say “you look like a victorian child ghost when you sulk” and this man just stares like 😐 

he lets you win everything. he says it’s because he’s tired. the truth is he’s scared. respectfully. 

once you told sae to “go back to madrid and take your personality with you” and rin fell in love all over again. 

the kind of boyfriend who has your comebacks memorized and mutters them under his breath when people annoy him. 

“i hope the door hits you on the way out” – rin, two weeks later, in an argument with shidou: “… and i hope the door hits you on the way out.” 

kaiser michael

the drama couple. you walk into a room and everyone suddenly finds something to pretend to be busy with. 

kaiser thinks you're the funniest, hottest, most lethal weapon to ever exist. he’s the type to go “hey liebe” just to hear you say “what, disappointment?” 

he’ll call you “my little demon” while you’re actively roasting his existence. 

“kaiser, i swear if you flex in the mirror one more time i’m calling pest control.” “but i’m hot.” “and i’m losing brain cells.” 

he’ll kiss you mid-insult like “shh, i love when you’re rude to me.” it’s sick. it’s love. 

tries to out-sass you and fails every time. you once told him “your ego’s so big it has its own timezone” and he genuinely shut up for the first time in weeks. 

mikage reo

rich, pretty, and so used to praise that your constant attitude has him blushing. 

“why are you looking at me like that?” “just wondering what it’s like to wake up and be this obsessed with me.” 

when you say “buy me this” he immediately does it. no questions. you sass him for blinking too loud and he’s like “yes ma’am. should i stop breathing. too?” 

once tried to say “i’m not your bank account” and you said “then stop acting like an ATM and start acting like a man.” 

team calls him “whipped” behind his back. he knows. he likes it. 

honestly he thinks your attitude is elite. you keep him humble. and kinda aroused. 

shidou ryusei

his whole toxic energy gets nullified by your zero-bullshit attitude. 

you’ll walk past him and say “stop barking and go chase a ball” and he’ll be like “you wanna throw one for me, mommy?” 

you insult him, he flirts. you threaten him, he flirts harder. 

his favorite pet name for you is “my scary little psycho” and he means it with love. 

your sass turns him on. you once told him to shut up or you’ll knock him out and he said “say it slower.” 

coaches are relieved when you’re around because you’re the only one who keeps him from committing on-field homicide. 

you yelled “sit, shidou!” once and he actually sat. 

karasu tabito

literal roast battles at 7 AM. “your eyeliner’s crooked.” “and your hairline’s scared of commitment. what’s your point?” 

he eats that energy UP. your insults are his love language. he’ll say “i love you” and you’ll say “love yourself first, clown” and he’ll melt. 

when he’s being annoying you just go “you done talking or should i get the duct tape?” 

everyone in blue lock is 99% sure you’re both in love and also plotting each other’s demise. 

the sexual tension is ridiculous. your arguments sound like flirting. 

once made a bet that whoever lost a training match had to compliment the other for a whole day. karasu lost. it was the worst day of his life. 

chigiri hyoma

the two of you together? literally dangerous. 

it’s sass squared. you don’t just serve attitude, you serve it on a silver platter with a hair toss and a death glare. and he? he eats that shit up like a five-course meal. 

he’ll be stretching before a match, flipping his hair back like he’s in a l’oréal commercial, and you’ll go, “damn, you conditioning or summoning the spirits of your haters?” 

chigiri: not even blinking “both, actually. i’m multitasking.” 

you’re the kind of girlfriend who will roll your eyes and say, “you’re lucky you’re pretty,” and he’ll go, “i know, right?” with no shame. 

the team has collectively banned you two from sitting next to each other during press interviews because the combined snark is too powerful. reporters come out crying. 

you once called someone a “walking participation trophy” and chigiri laughed so hard mid-match he tripped. and then still scored. icon behavior. 

mirror selfies? deadly. the comments are like “how do they both look like they’d ruin my life and i’d say thank you.” 

chigiri is also obsessed with how fast your comebacks are. he swears your mouth is more lethal than his legs. 

and don’t even get him started on how hot you look when you're mad. he’ll literally poke the bear on purpose. “that top looks cute.” “thanks.” “but the one you wore yesterday was better.” “oh? then date that top.” “no need. i’m already dating a ten with anger issues.”

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[checkeredflagggs]

Glazed and Confused

Pairing: Lando Norris x Potter!Youtuber!reader

Summary: when lando fails to make a simple mug, fans direct him towards your YouTube channel

a/n: I took 1 hr long class on pottery and quit. Don’t like the feel of it, have mostly forgot literally everything about it so…🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n 2: I really struggled to get lando’s voice down and don’t really think I did. Oops 😬 will work on that for next time (also plz ignore that changing of the handles. I try to keep them accurate but again I’m not on those social media platforms so…)

a/n 3: I tried to make sure that this reader was never gendered or given a race — there’s one photo near the end that depicts 2 white smaller hands but I think that is the only time. Please let me know how I did, if you could

Pottery Made Easy has posted

potterymadeeasy

liked by user1, user2, and 2316 others

pottermadeeasy: my newest video (mugs and bowls, pt 2) is now up! In it I show you ways to add a little flourish and decorations to the pieces you made from part 1!

view all comments

user1: thank you your majesty! Easy to understand and so so easy to follow!! (unlike my professor 🙄😬)

user2: right? If they either stopped mumbling or spoke up…

user1: might be asking too much of someone born in the 1800s 😭🙄

user2: unfortunately

user3: god your work is so gorgeous. Do you sell anything?

potterynadeeasy: occasionally! I’m based in Monaco rn and a friend owns a shop and sometimes they let me use a shelf or 2

user4: ohh! I’m in France. Plz plz plz make an announcement when you will next have some ready! I’d love to own a piece

potterynadeeasy: of course lovely 😊 vague plans are to have some ready in the next week or 2!

user4: seriously?!? Marking the calendar right now!

user3: you have no idea how jealous I am right now…

potterynadeeasy: dm me! I might be able to ship it to you depending on where you are!

user3: faints bless you

user5: landonorris here! They might be able to help you

user6: be so for real right now. It’ll take a miracle to help landonorris

user7: I hate to be a negative nancy but…yeah. That latest stream was bad bad landonorris

user8: I dont even know…that clay flew… landonorris

user9: would hate to be his cleaner…

lnupdates

liked by user5, user6, user7, and 1,897,455 others

lnupdates: some of our favorite moments from Lando’s latest stream where he was attempting to make a ceramic mug…bowl? It was certainly an interesting one to watch

view all comments

user5: interesting is one way to put it. Tragic is another

user6: no but really…that was. I legit have no words

user7: he needs to watch potterymadeeasy! I love their videos

user8: oh? I haven’t heard of them

user7: they’re a Monaco based potter that has a lot of simple how to videos!

user8: just watched one of them! And god their voice…🥵

user7: oh my god right?!?

user5: but are they gonna be enough to help lando?

user7: well they certainly couldn’t make it any worse tbh

user9: you got this lando! Pottery isn’t something easy to pick up - you just gotta keep trying!

user10: yeah! There was definitely some improvement by the end

Bluesky

Private DMs

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 2,790,469 others

landonorris: progress! these ones were mostly standing. I’m not done yet though - catch me tomorrow night giving it another go

view all comments

user11: those looked good! Most definitely an improvement!

user12: he’s almost there! It’s literally just the little things now

user13: oh how far we’ve come! In less then a year he’s gone from flying clay to something that could generously be called a bowl

user14: and an “artistic” vase!

oscarpiastri: definitely better then last time

landonorris: mate…

oscarpiastri: you don’t pay your cleaner enough

landonorris: mate!! get out of my comments

charles_leclerc: keep trying! Maybe one day you’ll get there

landonorris: yeah say goodbye to your Christmas present

charles_leclerc: 👎🏻

alex_albon: will be there! And will definitely be recording - gotta have proof 😂

landonorris: is it national bully lando day here or something?

user15: yes

user16: yes

oscarpiastri: yes

charles_leclerc: yes 👍🏻

georgerussell63: yes

alex_albon: yes!!

maxverstappen1: yes

danielricciardo: yes!

carlossainz55: yes!

landonorris: you freaking muppets!

user17: ok but am I the only one who noticed he kept looking to the side and like beaming?

user18: no but I thought I was going insane? Like he was so soft?

user17: yeah! definitely getting the feeling he wasn’t the only one there. Just who are you looking at?

user18: dare we say little lando norris has a partner now?

landonorris

liked by potterymadeeasy, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, and 2,723,944 others

landonorris: haha! I did kt! A mug a vase and a bowl!! On to the next step - glazing! And you muppets didn’t think I could do it

view all comments

user19: woohoo! Congrats lando! Those look so so good!

user20: and those glazes are gonna be fire when they’re done. I use the same brand and colors he did and they turn out AMAZING

user19: ok don’t be shy drop the names plz

potterymadeeasy: those look great!

landonorris: thank you! Had a great teacher 😉

user21: ariana (potterymadeeasy) what are you doing here?

user22: thoughts are being thunk

user23: unthunk those thoughts right now

user22: sorry…thots are being thunk rn

user23: nurse she’s out again!

user21: really? Under my comment thread?

user24: I’ve connected the dots.

user25: you’ve connected shit

user24: no I’ve connected them

user25: god get a life

charles_leclerc: congrats!

carlossainz55: it only took a few months…

alex_albon: a couple of different throwing wheels

georgerussell63: and 3 different cleaning companies

landonorris: I’m gonna run you all over with my car

mclaren: legally this is a joke

landonorris

liked by potterymadeeasy, danielricciardo, carlossainz55, and 2,922,713 others

landonorris: first round of my ceramics are currently cooking in the kiln. Starting a new batch and stretching my creative skills

view all comments

user26: holy shit those look INCREDIBLE

user27: I’m so shocked! I just started watching the old streams so like in the course of a day he went from wet clay lumps to these masterpieces

user28: I’m so so proud of him - I’m currently trying to get into pottery and ceramics and watching him keep at it is so inspiring

user26: user28 you can do it! Persistence is key

oscarpiastri: man thinks he’s Picasso now…but for real congrats lando. Those look good! And functional too

landonorris: I’m only gonna give you the lumpy ones actually

oscarpiastri: I’m good thanks

landonorris: 🙃

oscarpiastri: honestly proud of you. You’ve come a long way

landonorris: thanks mate!

oscarpiastri: I’m also glad you can stop calling me crying about your latest fuck up

landonorris: you muppet!

danielricciardo: too soon to call dibs on that dragonfly mug?

landonorris: after the way you continuously kept laughing at me?

danielricciardo: in encouragement?

landonorris: 😑

danielricciardo: 🥹🧡?

landonorris: fine 🙄

user29: ok yeah good job on those designs and whatever but are we gonna mention those HEART MUGS?!

landonorris: 😂🧡😉

user29: get back here and answer some questions! What? Does? That? Mean?

landonorris: 🏃🏻‍♂️💨

user29: SIR!

maxverstappen1: i see you’re finished making my present but really? Matching heart mugs?

landonorris: not actually for you!

maxverstappen1: heart❤️ been broke💔🤕 so many times⏰ i don’t know❌🤷‍♀️ what to believe 🍃🙏

landonorris: …who are you and where is max?

maxverstappen1: I thought what we had was special

landonorris: not my favorite relationship anymore! Sorry 🧡

maxverstappen1: 💔

potterymadeeasy: those look good!

landonorris: I had a good teacher 🧡

potterymadeeasy: flatterer

landonorris: always 😉

User22: !!!

User23: shut up shut up shut up

landonorris

liked by yourpriv, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 3,123,321 others

landonorris: kiln unveiling and some upcoming projects!

listen. when I randomly decided that I wanted to learn how to make ceramic dishes, it was mostly because I wanted to make something with my own 2 hands — and when I wasn’t immediately good at it, I decided that I wouldn’t stop until I was.

Its been a long couple of months with a lot of struggles but I can finally say that I’m proud of how far I’ve come. It hasn’t been easy but the journey and the process has been fun and i genuinely can’t wait to see what comes next!

view all comments

user30: I’m? Crying? 😭

user31: omg same!!! To see how far he’s come and to hear that he’s finally proud of himself too…

user32: we’re excited for you too!

user33: excited? For what? Some more mediocre “Art” by some mediocre man?

user32: go fuck yourself. And get out of my comments. And off lando’s page

used34: user33 how about you go get some sun and maybe shove some kindness up yours! 🖕

oscarpiastri: seriously, congratulations. Those look incredible

landonorris: thanks mate! I do appreciate your support

oscarpiastri: and my cupboards appreciate your work

user34: 🩵🩵 ahhh he’s giving away his pieces

alex_albon: it’s been a fun ride watching you!

landonorris: thanks i think

alex_albon: no problem!

alex_albon: and could you send me the name of your newest cleaning crew? They most be ungodly good

landonorris: and there it is… cleaningcrew

alex_albon: anyway i could get a series of mugs inspired by albon_pets?

landonorris: I’ll need a lot of pretty good pictures

alex_albon: on it 🫡

landonorris: in fact I might need to visit in person

albon_pets: yay! We love ❤️ getting visitors

user35: UMMM?!? That 5th photo?!?

user36: IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH? DOES LITTLE LANDO NORRIS FINALLY HAVE A PARTNER AGAIN?!?

landonorris: 🫢🤫

user36: YOU CANT KEEP GETTJNG AWAY WITH THIS

landonorris: 😂🏃🏻‍♂️💨

yourpriv: my love, I’m so proud of you! Putting yourself out there in the world to learn something new is never easy but you have done it with amazing persistence and talent.

landopriv: babe… you know I couldn’t do it without you

yourpriv: oh I have no doubt you would have gotten here on your own

landopriv: no. No i don’t think I would have. I’m a fast guy and I’m used to fast results. When I reached out to you, it was a last resort last string. If it didn’t work out with your help, I was honestly going to quit. You pushed me to get better, to stick with it till I made it.

yourpriv: 🥹🥹🥹

landopriv: I’m serious. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me — i love you 🧡

yourpriv: 🥹🥰🧡 I love you too hun

maxverstappen1: can’t lie — it was a fun ride watching you fail but I also can’t wait to see what you make next

landonorris: …thanks for your support 😑🙄😅

maxverstappen1: you know it!

landonorris

liked by yourpriv, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 2,997,245 others

tagged: yourpriv, potterymadeeasy

landonorris: no time for a soft launch. Thank you honey for teaching me pottery and for designing such a bomb ass helmet!

comments have been limited on this post

potterymadeeasy: Lando! We had a plan!

landonorris: 🤷🏻‍♂️

landonorris: love ya!

potterymadeeasy:…love you too!

[mejaemin]

prompt 9 with jaem pretty plz !!!

jaemin + them discovering ur praise kink

(18+ mdni !!!) warnings: couch stuff, riding, mentions of drawing blood but its so vague, praise kink ofc an: another one that i accidentally made too long… i love my nana banana so much i had too much fun remembering and writing down our experience tgt.. bc this is our story obvi

“mm, baby, you’re so good for me..” jaemin breathes, head falling back against the couch. the noise that spills from your mouth is a mix of a whine and something a little more strangled, and that pairing with the way you clench around him has his whole body shuddering.

you grip his biceps, whining and gasping endlessly as you bounce on his lap. your arms are tired, baby pink nails leaving scratches on his skin as your high comes closer. truthfully, the way jaemin speaks to you so sweetly, making you feel so good and special, praising you with the most flowery words as his dick stretches you out.. it makes you feel a certain way, making you all flustered non-sexually, and setting your body on fire in intimate moments.

even when he speaks to his cats, petting one of the girls as he gives her praises for doing literally anything. even if it’s not directed at you, it makes you squirm just thinking about his voice, smooth and velvety, calling you a ‘good girl’ the same way he does to his babies.

“angel,” he starts, hand resting against your cheek. “where are you right now?” he stops you, hand on your hip to keep you from moving, smiling when you let out a sweet little sorry.

“thinking about you..” you mumble, looking down at your hands.

he chuckles, sitting up to connect his lips to yours. “i’m flattered.. but why don’t you focus on the real me, hm? how i feel inside you?”

you nod, slowly repositioning yourself to be comfortable, before finally starting to move again. he sighs, sinking back into the couch cushions. you’re already so close, so quick just from his face, all glossy with sweat glittering over his pleasure-stricken expression.

“oh, fuck, doing so good, my good fucking girl.. bouncing on me like that..”

he doesn’t even mean to say it, it just happens, but it’s everything you wanted. that’s all it takes, just those three words, and your body freezes, hips jerking as you cum around him. your voice is empty, hands bruising and drawing blood as you grip his muscles with one of the most intense orgasms of your life. jaemin’s right there with you, pulling you into him as his seed floods your insides.

you both stay there for a moment catching your breath. you’re frozen, hoping he doesn’t bring up how badly you just gave yourself away, but of course he does.

“what was that, huh?” he pinched your hip when you don’t respond, and you whine into his neck. “you liked that? being my good girl?”

“please shut up..” you groan.

he chuckles. “no.. it’s cute. i don’t mind calling you that from now on.. i mean, it’s what you are isn’t it?” you whine again, embarrassed by him, but he only laughs, leaving wet kisses on your cheek.

[sqgeism]

Omg i just read your touch starved! reader with anaxa, mydei, and dan heng and loved the way you characterized themmm!

could you please do one with anaxa (and anyone else you like), maybe theyre comforting their s/o (reader) when theyre so stressed they kinda go nonverbal? maybe curl up somewhere comfy

plz dont do if this makes you uncomfortable in any way!! please and ty

keep up the great work!!!!!

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐢 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | various hsr men x gender neutral reader

love mail — hiiiii anonnie!!!! thank you thank you so much (o´▽`o)ﾉ ♡ i'm more than happy to do this, gosh i've missed writing for hsr ! mydei's a bit forced since i wanted to do jus anaxa and phainon, but i tried regardless (*´∇｀)ﾉ posting this at 1am i'm going crazy.. when was the last time i posted four times in one day.. inspo for the song is zombie girl by adrianna lenker. characters in order: anaxa, phainon, mydei

anaxa knows there are times where words can fail a person, and there's no real way to express the way one is feeling in a moment. he's spent so long grieving in silence, he'd understand that feeling better than anyone.

so when you're sitting alone on the couch, just laying there, staring at the wall.. anaxa doesn't try to immediately get you to talk. instead, he sits on the floor by your head, leaning his back against the couch and looks at you. "bad day?" he watches you nod, and continues. "is there anything you need? blankets, water, anything?"

you shuffle on the couch a bit, making enough room for him to lay with you as you pat the free space. his one good eye shows hesitance in his reflection, however he slowly makes his way and slides up next to you. the best he does is one arm wrapped around you and the other is used as a pillow underneath his head. (he figures you need all the couch pillows)

"i don't mind the one sided conversation, i.. i know what it's like, just wanting to be understood without speaking." anaxa already knows, rubbing your sides since your back is pressed up against the backrest. he doesn't care that he's about to fall, just as long as he hasn't. "if you need me to do anything to help you feel comfortable, i'm.. here. research can wait."

with those words, it's followed by you reaching out to him and having your fingertips halt, just before touching the edges of the star-shaped hole in his chest. he stares down at where you're about to make contact, then he looks back at you — with trust never seen in him before.

you slowly trace the outline of the galaxy-like void, and anaxa can't help but feel his heart race. he's never been vulnerable like this before, even if he was your lover. it was all slow, steady steps as you both navigated your relationship.

but in this moment, consumed by delicate touch of your fingertips and completely yours, he can't help it. he can't stop his heart from racing and he can't stop the undoubtedly, ever growing love for you.

he loves you, he loves you so much. and in that moment, he's slowly realizing he'll be ready to do anything for you. anaxa just needs to come to proper terms with that, in his own time.

phainon knew something was wrong the moment you walked through that door, and he immediately started calculating in his mind what to do. get you good food? make you a bath? do all your chores?

he's found a solution when you practically toss yourself at him, catching you in his caring arms as he feels his heart melt. he always knew you as — not exactly a ray of sunshine — but definitely not as gloomy as this. the silence is new, but he pays no mind to it, letting out a subtle grunt as he begins to carry you to the bedroom.

he slips off your shoes for you, clumsily tossing them to the shoerack while giving you a smile; promising to fix it later. "was that red bastard giving you a hard time again, asking you where i was?" phainon tries to joke, not minding the fact you don't answer, and relish in the way you lean your head against him.

it isn't long till your boyfriends warmth is replaced by a comfy mattress, but it also isn't long for it to come right back — as he positions himself between your legs, and has his head pressed against your stomach — head tilted up to you like a lovesick puppy.

"i wonder what could've made you upset today," he wonders aloud, tracing patterns on your stomach as you close your eyes, just letting yourself drown in the sheets and the familiar weight of phainon ontop of you. "whatever it is, just know you're here now. i'm here and i won't be going anywhere, okay?"

he smiles at you, hands caressing your hips as he hums to himself. "if you need me, i'm all yours."

when a battle goes wrong, it doesn't tend to affect you. yes, you worry for comrades and the final outcome — but it's never been enough to completely make you freak out. after all, you know you'll win eventually.

that changes when you watch someone get close enough to mydei's weak spot, the only way to kill him for good. and the sight haunts you deep to your core, dropping everything to stop that blade from going through the last person you had.

and mydei understands that, he likely would've had the same reaction in your position. but the battle had taken such a toll on you, that you had just.. gone quiet on him.

he doesn't mind, not at all. he won't blame you for being horrified at the idea of losing someone you love. so he has you safely tucked in his arms, your back pressed against his bare chest and both his arms and legs 'cage' you. he's got a book infront of you, and he's been reading it out ever since you two got back home.

you once told him that despite being a man who yells out war cries, his voice is surprisingly.. gentle. like he could bring even the fiercest warriors to a deep slumber. so he's made it a habit, reading to you until you fall asleep. it's a deadly combo when he opts to hold the book with one hand, and decides to play with your hair using the other. which is what he's doing right now.

mydei can feel your head slipping against him, and although you've said nothing to him the whole day.. it's the most reassuring thing. that despite your stress and terror, he is yet again, your safe place. just as you are his sanctuary amidst a war.

as your eyes close and you're welcomed into the arms of a good nights rest, mydei drops the book completely and instead wraps his arms around you. falling asleep with you too in hopes to meet you in a better place, your dreams.

[xosannie]

Ateez members that would praise or degrade you

☆genre: smut (ot8xreader)

☆word count: 1k+

☆warnings: degrading and praise (obvi), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), just a teeny little bit of biting, exhibition (through the phone), slight bondage, orgasm denial, use of sex toys, aggressive, “fucked to mush”, hair pulling, fingering, titties get sucked a bit. (Let me know if I missed any)

☆MDNI 18+ only! If these kinds of thing make you uncomfy just leave plz. Otherwise, enjoy you horny ppl :3

Praising:

Seonghwa

Seonghwa sat in his chair as you’re sucking his dick, kneeling under his desk. He caresses your hair, looking down at you, his attention—that was once on the Legos he was building, now watching the way you slowly take his length in your mouth. You look up at him with wide eyes, taking him deeper down your throat. You pull off panting loudly and stroke him faster to catch your breath. You kiss his tip before taking him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. His brows furrowed as soft moans escaped his lips. He instinctively bucks his hips as he locks eyes with you.

“That’s a good girl, there you go. You’re taking my dick so well, fuck you make me feel so good, sweetheart. Keep going.”

Yeosang

Yeosang hovers over you, his arms flexing as he supports his weight on his elbows. He fucks you with slow and deep thrusts, leaning down to kiss you softly yet passionately. With every hard thrust, the bed rocks, and hits the wall. He kisses down to your neck, sucking and biting ever so gently just to soothe the slight pain with his tongue. You whimper softly at the feeling of his mouth, and you moan his name as he gives another deep thrust. Your hands entangle in his hair as you hold him impossibly closer, wrapping your arms around his toned body. He nibbled at your earlobe before softly whispering with his gentle yet deep voice.

“You make such pretty noises, baby, keep moaning for me I want to hear you. I love fucking you so much, you’re perfect.”

Jongho

You were on FaceTime with Jongho, missing the man who was halfway across the world due to his tour. You propped your phone against a pile of pillows, legs spread wide, fingering yourself while Jongho watched through the screen. You look away, feeling slightly embarrassed being the only one naked as Jongho watched fully clothed. Even though he wasn’t there in real life, you can still feel the way he stared at you intently, which made you dripping wet even more. Jongho groans as he hears the noises of your fingers moving in and out of your wet pussy. He started to palm himself through his pants, breath growing more labored the more he watched you, wishing he could jump through the screen this very moment.

"Fuck, you look so beautiful, baby. Look at you, you’re doing such a good job fucking you’re pretty pussy. God, I wish I was the one making you feel that good.”

Degrading

Hongjoong

You were on your knees, a vibrator stuffed in your pussy and your hands were tied behind your back. You sat there trembling, begging desperately for release that Hongjoong had been denying you for what seemed like forever. He watched with amusement, sitting in front of you at the edge of his bed. His arms and legs crossed, as he gripped the controller to the toy. He could tell you were close to release again by the way your hips started rocking and your moans became more high-pitched. He smiles wide, waiting for you to get on the very edge, and right before you cum he turned the toy off with the controller. You whine desperately, on the verge of tears, body squirming as you look up at him with pleading eyes. He smirked down at you, laughing at your desperation.

"Aw, look at you, you look so pathetic, begging for me to let you cum. I bet you were really close this time, weren’t you? Well, that’s too bad, now take that toy, naughty girls like you don’t deserve my dick.”

Mingi

Mingi pinned your legs against your chest, drilling his dick in you as you lay there and took it. You moan his name loudly, eyes rolling in the back of your head. He grunts as he feels the way your pussy clenched down on his length. His thrusts were so hard and fast your brain turned to mush, the only thing you can think of was Mingi and his big dick. He throws his head back, moaning out loud, his grip on your thighs so harsh you were sure there would be bruises the next morning. He twitched inside you at the way you looked so fucked, mouth agape with a bit of drool rolling down your chin. Your hair was a mess as black streaks ran down your face, tears ruining your pretty mascara and eyeliner you had on earlier.

“Fuck, take my dick you slut, you love it, don’t you? I know you do, you’re clenching down on me so hard as if you’re afraid I’ll pull out, fucking cock slut.”

Wooyoung

Wooyoung had you bent over the kitchen counter, you reached behind, grabbing his hips, wanting to feel him deeper. He was in the middle of cooking dinner, but you decided to come in and tease him, wearing an apron and nothing else. When he saw you, his jaw practically dropped, as you would sway your hips teasingly, bending over and exposing yourself to “pick something up.” He snapped, and now here he was thrusting his now-hard dick into you, giving you what you came in the kitchen for. He gripped your hip with one hand and ran his fingers in your hair with the other, tugging at the strands, making you moan louder. He pulled your head back and leaned in while thrusting deep into your aching pussy, whispering in your ear.

“You really want my attention that bad? We already fucked this morning, but you’re such a fucking whore you need to come in here practically naked so I can give you my dick again. Such a needy little bitch.”

Praising and degrading

(My personal fav)

Yunho

You guys were in the middle of a movie night, but you grew too needy when you watched the way Yunho’s hand ran up and down your thigh. Now you were lying back on the couch, legs spread open in front of Yunho as he hovered over to you. His fingers slowly moving in and out of your dripping cunt while simultaneously pressing down on your clit with his thumb. His fingers were so long they filled you up just nicely. You reached over to grab his arm for support as you moan his name softly. He had to pin your thigh down to prevent your trembling legs from closing shut on him.

"Aw, baby, you’re so pretty like this, taking my fingers like the good slut you are. You’re so needy we can’t even watch a movie without you getting horny. That’s okay though, take my fingers, baby.”

San

San moaned loudly, resting his head against the headboard as you bounced on his length at a fast speed, riding him. He gripped your hips, guiding you up and down, his biceps flexing with every movement and a slight sheen of sweat forming on his skin. You held onto his broad shoulders, throwing your head back and moaning loudly. San bites his lip as he watches the way your tits bounce in his face. His hands ran up your body to grasp your breasts, leaning forward to take one in his mouth. You gasp and hold his head against you, loving the feeling of his tongue massaging your nipple. He moans against your skin when you clench around him, getting closer to your high.

“There you go, baby, you ride me so well. Cum on my dick like the pretty cockslut you are. Fuck, you deserve it, this slutty pussy deserves to cum.

Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed :p Let me know if I should write more stuff like this. Feel free to give recs on what you want to see next.

[bytemee]

WILDFLOWER — kim minjeong & yu jimin.

now, i know that you love me. you don't need to remind me. i should put it all behind me, shouldn't i?

synopsis. you’re heading off to college with a scholarship, leaving behind jimin—a girl who you fell for, knowing the complications and the walls she put up. then minjeong comes into the picture, someone so different, but similar at the same time, you find yourself pulled toward to her. but when jimin reappears, everything gets messy, too messy.

pairing. yu jimin x fem!reader x kim minjeong

warning(s). angst, fluff, slow burn (?), love triangle, unresolved feelings, and let me know if there's more!

words. 4.6k

authors note. tried something different w the writing style. plz enjoy & yes there will be a part two i think..........................

you don’t know when it started, this thing between you and jimin.

maybe it was the first time she laughed at one of your dumb jokes, tilting her head back like the sound was too big for her body. maybe it was the way she always waited for you after work, even when she finished before you, leaning against the doorframe of your shared space with a lazy smile.

maybe it was the way she touched you—soft, fleeting, never enough. a hand on your wrist when she wanted your attention. fingers brushing over yours when she passed you something. the occasional, completely unnecessary adjustment of your collar or your jacket.

small things.

things that added up.

“you always look at me like that.”

the words catch you off guard, spoken lazily as jimin leans back in her chair. you’re at work, supposed to be focused, but instead, your eyes must’ve lingered too long.

you blink. “like what?”

she smirks, stretching her arms above her head. “like you want to say something.”

your stomach tightens. you force a laugh, shaking your head. “you’re imagining things.”

she hums, unconvinced, but drops it. that’s how jimin is—she flirts and teases but never really lets you know where you stand.

and you, like an idiot, let her.

it goes on like this for weeks and then months. every time you gather up the courage to say something, the words die on your tongue. how could you possibly sum up how you feel? besides, there are so many reasons why you shouldn't act on it. you work together. she has a boyfriend. you're just a stupid girl with a crush, and she's…well, everything.

you tell yourself it’s not a big deal.

sure, your pulse spikes when her hand brushes yours while walking home. and sure, maybe you replay certain moments in your head—her laughing at something you said, her leaning in too close to show you something on her phone.

but it’s harmless, right? you’re friends.

and then there are nights like these.

it’s late, the sky inky black above you, and the two of you are walking in sync like always. after work, you walk home together like always. it’s unspoken at this point, a routine you never bothered to question. you live a few streets apart, close enough that it makes sense, but far enough that you both know you could’ve made different choices. she could’ve left with the others. you could’ve taken a different route.

but you never do.

“what if we just dropped everything?”

you glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “dropped everything and did what?”

“ran away. started fresh. maybe somewhere by the sea. or the mountains. someplace with no one around for miles, just trees and peace and quiet."

you laugh. "if i ran away, you'd come with me?"

"of course," she says. "who else would put up with me?"

"right, who else…"

"i mean it." her voice is soft, almost lost to the sound of your footsteps. "i wouldn't go anywhere without you."

she laughs, a sound that makes your chest ache.

you wonder if she knows what she’s doing. if she realizes how easy it is for her to say things like this, to build these little worlds between you, only to leave them behind like they never mattered.

the conversation shifts, meandering through different topics. work, dumb customers, and her latest obsession with some random drama she’s been watching. she talks about it animatedly, her hands moving as she explains some plot twist that apparently changed her life.

you’re only half-listening.

because she’s glowing under the streetlights, her eyes bright, her lips curved in a soft smile. and for a second, you let yourself imagine—

if things were different.

if she didn’t have a boyfriend.

if you were braver.

if she looked at you the way you looked at her.

but then she bumps your shoulder with hers, pulling you back to reality. “hey. you’re quiet.”

you blink. “just tired.”

she doesn’t push, doesn’t ask what’s really on your mind. instead, she nudges you again, grinning. “don’t fall asleep standing up. i’ll leave you here.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “no, you wouldn’t.”

she hums. “you’re right. i wouldn’t.”

and that’s the thing about jimin. she says things like that all the time—things that feel like confessions if you listen too closely. but she never follows through.

so you don’t say anything.

you just keep walking, side by side, pretending this isn’t killing you. pretending she doesn't notice. pretending it's enough.

the email comes in the morning.

a scholarship. fully funded. a chance to study something you love in a way you never thought possible.

you should be happy.

and you are.

but then there’s jimin.

and you don’t know how to tell her.

you put it off for as long as you can. days pass, filled with the same routines, the same inside jokes, the same late-night walks home. but every time you try to bring it up, the words die in your throat.

it’s stupid. she’s not your girlfriend. she’s not even yours to begin with.

but she means something to you.

and part of you is terrified that when you tell her, she’ll just… shrug and move on.

like this was never a big deal.

like you were never a big deal.

you finally tell her on a night that feels just like any other.

you’re walking home together, just like always. the sky is dark, the air is cold, and there are so many stars overhead that for a moment you forget to breathe. she’s rambling about something—work, a new song she’s obsessed with, and you’re not really listening. your heart is pounding too loud in your ears.

then—

“i got a scholarship.”

she blinks at you.

you force a laugh, rubbing the back of your neck.

it sounds fake even to your own ears.

a beat of silence, and then—

she slows. “for what?”

you tell her.

she nods, taking it in. “that’s incredible.”

there’s a pause. a beat too long.

then she asks, carefully—“where?”

your fingers tighten around your bag strap. you look at her, hoping for what? reassurance? an answer? some sign that this is more than what it feels like? "a state away."

but there isn't one.

she stops walking.

for the first time, you see it—the shift.

the way her mouth parts slightly like she wants to say something but doesn’t. the way her fingers twitch at her sides. the way her entire posture stiffens, just for a second, before she forces herself to relax.

she smiles.

it looks wrong.

"wow. that's great," she says. "congratulations."

you nod slowly, your chest tight. "thanks."

there's another pause, heavier than the last. you don't know what else to say. she doesn't seem to either. it feels like there should be something. something to make this easier. something to fix whatever this tension is. but you're both quiet, and the moment stretches out between you like an unspoken truth.

finally, she clears her throat. "well… i'm glad you told me." she starts walking again, forcing a smile. "we should celebrate."

"right. we should."

the next few days are strained. you try to act normal, but it's hard when everything feels off. when she smiles too wide and laughs too loud, like she's trying to prove something. when she avoids eye contact and changes the subject whenever you try to bring up the scholarship. when every conversation feels stilted and forced.

and you get it—she's hurting. but so are you.

so why does it feel like she's the only one allowed to show it?

on your last day at work, she walks you home again. this time she's not catching you up on her drama or talking about some new album she wants you to listen to. she's quiet, her hands shoved in her pockets as you walk side by side. the air between you is heavy with things unsaid, and you don't know how to break it. how to fix this. how to make it right before you leave.

before you go.

and before you can think better of it—

you step closer.

she doesn’t move.

your heart is in your throat. you don’t know who leans in first. maybe it’s you. maybe it’s her. maybe it doesn’t even matter.

all you know is that one second you’re standing there, drowning in the weight of goodbye, and the next—her lips are on yours. and it feels like everything. it feels like fire and ice and every cliché you've ever heard. it feels like coming home after a long day. it feels like all the times you wanted to do this and didn't. it feels like regret and relief and pain and pleasure.

it feels like love.

when she pulls away, it takes everything in you not to chase her lips. her eyes are wide, dark with want, and for a moment, you let yourself hope.

then—

she steps back.

"i'm sorry."

her voice is barely above a whisper.

your stomach drops. "jimin—"

"i shouldn't have done that." she shakes her head, running a hand through her hair. "that was a mistake."

you don't say anything. what can you say? that it wasn't? that you've been waiting for this for months? that you don't regret it? that you're in love with her?

no.

she already knows all that.

she just doesn't care.

she has a boyfriend.

she's not yours.

so you just nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. "okay."

she bites her lip. her eyes are shining. for a second, you think she might say something. apologize again, explain, and tell you what's going on. but then her expression shifts, and the moment is gone. she steps back, clearing her throat.

"i should go."

you nod. "yeah."

she turns and walks away.

you watch her go, your chest aching.

"i'll miss you."

the words slip out before you can stop them, falling into the space between you.

she freezes.

but still—

she doesn't look back.

she keeps walking.

until she's gone.

that night, you sit on your bed and stare at your phone. you could text her.

but what would you say? hey, sorry about earlier. i didn't mean to ruin things between us. i just had to know what it was like. but i won't bring it up again, i promise. everything will be normal when i get back.

you could try calling, but the idea of hearing her voice makes your stomach twist.

you could try emailing.

you could send her a letter.

you could do anything.

but you don't.

instead, you sit there, your thumb hovering over her contact info. you don't even know what you'd say. what could you possibly say that would fix this?

she has a boyfriend.

maybe it was always going to end this way.

adjusting to college is easier than you thought it would be.

maybe it's because the campus is lively, filled with people moving too fast to notice that you're still figuring things out. maybe it's because your classes keep you busy, giving you little time to dwell on the past. or maybe—maybe it's because of minjeong.

the scholarship brought you here, placing you among a team of insanely talented people. it's intimidating at first, walking into a room full of names you've only heard in passing, people who are already settled, already familiar with one another.

and then there's minjeong.

she’s quiet, reserved in a way that makes you curious. she doesn’t try to take up space like some of the others do—like yizuho, who talks with her hands and fills silences effortlessly. or aeri, whose jokes come quick and sharp, making everyone laugh. no, minjeong is different.

she listens more than she speaks. her laughter is soft, sometimes hidden behind her sleeve. but when she does talk, when she meets your gaze across the room, something settles inside you.

like maybe, for the first time in a long time, things are going to be okay.

and they are.

at first, it's hard. you miss home, miss your old job, and miss the familiarity of things. you feel out of place, like a stranger in a strange land. but then—

minjeong finds you.

at first, it's small things.

you're leaving class when you see her sitting on a bench outside, headphones in, scribbling furiously in a notebook. you stop, taking in the scene. she looks peaceful and focused, her brow furrowed as she writes. and without thinking, you step closer, leaning down to read over her shoulder.

"hey."

her voice startles you. she's looking up at you, her head tilted, a slight smile on her face. "do i know you?"

your face heats. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to bother you."

she chuckles. "i'm kidding. what's up?"

"i just…" you trail off, your cheeks growing warmer. "i was just wondering what you were working on."

"oh." she glances down at her notebook, biting her lip. "just lyrics, nothing serious."

"can i hear them?"

her gaze flicks back to you. there's something in her eyes, a question, but she nods anyway.

and as you sit next to her on that bench, listening to her softly sing the words she's written, you feel it—a spark of something.

it grows.

mall conversations before practice, eating lunch at the same table when no one else is around. but then those casual conversations stretch longer. lunches turn into late-night talks in the dorm hallway, legs stretched out, backs against the cold wall, whispering so you don’t wake anyone up.

somewhere along the way, she becomes a constant.

you find yourself waiting for her after class just because. she leaves a seat open for you in the dining hall without asking. she steals bites of your food, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

it’s easy with her.

no games. no uncertainty. no aching question of, does she feel the same? lingering in the air like a weight on your chest.

you don’t even realize how much time you spend together until one of the others—yizuho—teases you about it.

"you two are like an old married couple," she says one day, nudging minjeong’s shoulder.

minjeong just rolls her eyes, but there’s a faint flush on her cheeks.

and you—well. you pretend not to think too hard about it.

one night, while eating together in your dorm room, the conversation drifts to relationships.

minjeong is lying on your bed, staring up at the ceiling while you sit cross-legged on the floor, picking at your food.

“what about you?” you ask, nudging her foot lightly.

she tilts her head to look at you. “what about me?”

“your love life.”

she hums, considering. “i have a boyfriend.”

something sharp twists in your stomach.

it shouldn’t.

but it does.

“oh,” you say, keeping your voice neutral. “that’s cool.”

she doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t ask any more questions.

but that weird feeling stays.

weeks pass, and things remain the same. or at least, they’re supposed to.

but you can’t stop thinking about it.

not in a jealous way—because that would be stupid, right? you don’t like her like that. you can’t like her like that. you don't do jealousy, especially not when she's not even yours to begin with. but there's something about her relationship with this guy, whoever he is, that bothers you.

maybe it's because she never talks about him.

maybe it's because this whole thing feels oddly similar to what happened with—

no.

it's not the same.

minjeong isn't like her.

you just can't figure out why you feel so uneasy about this.

one night, you bring it up again, casually, like it’s just another question. “so… how’s your boyfriend?”

minjeong hesitates.

and that’s the first sign that something’s off.

she exhales softly, pushing a hand through her hair. “if i tell you, can you not ask any more questions?”

you blink. “uh. sure?”

she sits up, meeting your gaze. “i don’t actually have a boyfriend.”

you frown. “what?”

“i just say that so people don’t try to date me.” she shrugs, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “it makes things easier.”

you don’t know what to say.

because on one hand, you’re relieved.

and on the other—

you don’t even know why you’re relieved.

you don't understand the feeling settling in your chest, the urge to reach out and take her hand. because what does it matter if she's single? it's not like you're interested. right?

one afternoon, the two of you are walking around campus when it starts to rain.

at first, you're both laughing, caught off guard by the sudden downpour. but then minjeong reaches out, her fingers curling around yours, and suddenly—you can't breathe.

she tugs on your hand, her smile bright. "come on. we can wait it out under those trees."

you nod, letting her pull you along.

the trees are large, their branches heavy with leaves, providing enough shelter from the rain. minjeong releases your hand, sitting down in the grass, and you follow suit.

there's a beat of silence.

"you're quiet," she says, nudging your knee with hers. "something wrong?"

you shake your head, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing. "no, i'm just… tired."

"oh." she studies you, her brow furrowed. "well, if there's anything—"

"i'm fine, min." you offer her a small smile, hoping it's enough. "thanks."

she hesitates, and for a moment, you think she's going to push. but then she sighs, leaning back on her hands. "if you say so."

and that's the thing.

she gets you.

she knows when to push and when to back off. she knows what you need without you having to ask. she knows how to make you smile, how to make you laugh, and how to make you forget about everything else.

forget about…jimin.

it’s been months since you last heard from jimin.

you weren’t expecting to, not really. the last time you saw her, things ended in a way that felt unfinished—like a story that cut off mid-sentence.

but then, out of nowhere, a message pops up on your phone.

can you visit during spring break? they still giive you those, right?

you stare at it for too long.

you shouldn’t go.

you should ignore it.

but you don’t.

instead, you agree, telling yourself it won't be weird.

it's just a visit.

how bad could it be?

jimin’s apartment is the same as you remember—warm, inviting, smelling faintly of vanilla and something you can’t place.

she looks the same, too.

and that’s the problem.

because she’s standing there, smiling at you like no time has passed, like she didn’t completely wreck you before you left.

“wow,” she says, closing the door behind you. “you look good.”

your chest tightens. “you too.”

dinner is weirdly intimate.

soft music plays in the background. the lights are dimmed just enough to feel cozy. the food is homemade, and she remembers all your favorites.

you talk about old memories, about late-night walks and dumb jokes, about the times when everything was simpler.

and then—

then she’s looking at you like that.

like she used to.

like she never stopped.

and suddenly, you’re too close.

her fingers brush yours, lingering. your breath catches.

the space between you shrinks, and before you can think, before you can remind yourself why this is a bad idea—

she kisses you.

and for a second, you let her.

for a second, you forget about everything else.

but then—

reality crashes back.

she still has a boyfriend.

you pull away.

“i can’t do this.” your voice is barely above a whisper, strained.

she blinks, like she just realized what happened. “i—”

you shake your head, stepping back. “i have to go.”

you don’t wait for her to respond.

you just leave.

that night, you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, guilt gnawing at your chest.

not because of jimin.

but because of minjeong.

as spring break ends and you return to campus, you find yourself spending more time with minjeong.

she invites you to her favorite places. she shows you all her secret spots, her favorite coffee shop, and the best bookstore downtown.

it's nice.

easy.

fun.

the tension is gone.

and it stays gone.

until the day she kisses you.

it's not planned.

in fact, it's the last thing you expect.

the two of you are in your dorm, finishing up a project, and the mood is light. she's sitting next to you, close enough that her shoulder brushes yours as she reaches over to show you something on the laptop screen.

her breath fans across your neck, and without thinking, you turn to look at her.

and that's when it happens.

she freezes, her eyes widening.

a beat of silence.

you hold her gaze, daring her to make a move.

she does.

it's a soft kiss, hesitant. her lips barely graze yours, and for a moment, you think that's it.

but then she's kissing you again, and this time it's different.

this time it's deeper.

and before you can stop yourself, you're kissing her back.

her fingers slide into your hair, tugging lightly, and you lose track of everything else.

you and minjeong spend more time together.

of course, the two of you were always close, but now there's a new element. a new layer to the dynamic that wasn't there before.

you still hang out with the rest of the group, still laugh and talk and joke around, but when it's just the two of you…

there's something else.

something different.

something electric.

you fall into a routine.

you wake up, get ready for class, and meet her in the dining hall for breakfast. you text throughout the day, sharing stupid memes or random thoughts. sometimes, you sit next to her in class, stealing glances and hiding smiles. after, you grab lunch and walk around campus, talking about anything and everything. then, after dinner, you go to your dorm and watch a movie or play video games until you can't keep your eyes open anymore.

and at night, when it's dark, and the world is quiet, and it feels like nothing else matters—

you kiss her.

sometimes it's soft, just a gentle press of lips.

other times, it's heated, fueled by want and need and something deeper.

you never talk about it.

you don't have to.

it just works.

but then, one night, after a late-night make-out session, you're lying there, breathing heavily, and your phone rings—

jimin.

you hesitate.

should you answer?

no, of course not.

but part of you wants to. part of you misses her, even after everything. and the rational part of you knows that if you don't answer, it'll just be harder later. so, with a sigh, you sit up, accepting the call.

"hey."

"hi." her voice is soft, tentative. "how are you?"

"fine. busy." you shift, running a hand through your hair. "what's up?"

she's silent for a moment.

and then, carefully—

"i know it's been a while since we last spoke."

you swallow, the memory of her lips on yours, her hands in your hair, her skin pressed against yours—it comes rushing back. "yeah."

"and i just wanted to say i'm sorry."

you exhale. "for what?"

"for being an asshole."

a soft chuckle escapes your lips.

"and i'm sorry for kissing you," she continues. "i know it was selfish."

you pause.

it's not what you were expecting.

"it's okay," you finally say.

"really?"

"yeah. it's…it's fine. it's in the past."

there's a long pause.

"are we okay?" she asks.

your throat tightens.

is it too soon?

maybe.

but maybe not.

"yeah," you say. "we're okay."

"promise?"

you nod, even though she can't see it. "promise."

and that's the thing about promises.

you can't break them.

especially when you're the one who made them.

"so…before you left. i actually wanted to tell you something."

you adjust the phone closer to your ear, curiosity getting the better of you. "yeah?"

"i'm coming to your university."

what?

"what?"

"i put in my application a while ago, and i just got in."

you don't know how to feel. on one hand, this is what you would've wanted. wanted. but now…

you don't know what it means.

for you.

for minjeong.

for the two of you.

your heart stops. "i—wow. that's great."

"i know it's sudden, but i didn't want to tell you until i knew for sure." she pauses, taking a breath. "i missed you, you know?"

you don't know how to respond.

"anyway, i should go." there's a smile in her voice. "but i'll see you soon."

"right."

the call ends.

you stare at the phone.

what just happened?

minjeong finds you in the dining hall.

you're sitting at your usual table, picking at your food, your mind still racing.

she slides into the seat next to you, nudging your shoulder with hers. "hey. you okay?"

"fine."

"you sure? you seem a little…off."

"it's nothing."

"mm-hmm." she takes a bite of her food, watching you carefully. "if you say so."

you try to shake it off.

you try to forget about it.

but the whole time, you're wondering.

when will she get here?

will it be awkward?

will she act like nothing happened?

will she expect things to go back to how they were before?

will she expect you to wait for her?

minjeong distracts you.

she knows something's up, but she doesn't ask. instead, she shows up with snacks, forces you to play video games with her, and distracts you with kisses. and it works.

and then—just when things feel solid again, just when you think this might actually be something—

jimin shows up.

you don’t see her at first.

you’re too caught up in minjeong.

it’s late, and you’re outside, sitting on the campus benches, laughing about something dumb. the kind of laugh that makes your stomach hurt, the kind of laugh that you only do around people you really like. and you are—you like minjeong. a lot.

minjeong wipes at her eyes, still smiling. “i can’t believe you actually—”

she stops.

her expression shifts.

you turn.

and there, standing a few feet away—

jimin.

your heart stops.

minjeong stiffens next to you, her smile fading.

the air between you is thick with tension.

no one says anything.

you don't know how long you sit there, staring at her, your mind racing. you don't know what to say. how to explain. how to fix this.

you feel like the world has turned upside down, like the ground is shifting under your feet. you look at her, and all you can think about is that night. her hands in your hair. her lips on yours. the way she felt, pressed against you, soft and warm and—

minjeong breaks the silence.

and that's when you notice.

jimin's and minjeong’s eyes are locked. they're not worried about you. they don't care that you're there or that you're watching. they don't even acknowledge you. they just stare at each other.

you frown. "do you two know each other?"

neither of them answers.

you glance between them, your stomach twisting. "what's going on?"

minjeong shakes her head, tearing her gaze away.

"y/n…this is my…"

the words die on her lips.

your heart stops. "your what?"

"my girlfriend."

for a moment, you swear time stops.

you look at her, waiting for the punchline, for some sort of sign that this is a joke. but she doesn't smile, doesn't laugh, doesn't even blink.

like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

and then, slowly, it dawns on you.

she never had a boyfriend.

she lied.

because this whole time—

it was her.

jimin.

[aventurineswife]

“Drop your reqs yeah 🧍‍♀️plz”

Your wish is my command.

Category: Fluff |

Characters: Sunday, Dan Heng, Aventurine |

Scenario: One night you couldn’t rest, requesting to accompany them if they’re comfortable. You both ultimately share a bed, and they learn you’re extremely clingy during your sleep. Hands slipping beneath their shirts, leg thrown over them, cuddling them like a Koala to a tree. Y’know the deal. |

Could be mutual pinning or already established. anything you wish to write!

“Cling to Me, Dreamer”

Tags: Sunday x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Soft moments, Comfort, Co-sleeping, Vulnerability, Gentle intimacy, Quiet affection, Sleepy moments, Relationship development.

A/N: you never disappoint, do you, sweetheart? 🤭💖

Sunday was always awake at odd hours, often seated near the window of his cabin aboard the Astral Express, staring out at the void of stars. When you approached him one sleepless night, your shy request to join him brought a small, amused smile to his lips.

“If it brings you peace,” he murmured, gesturing toward the bed. His voice, soft and airy, was a balm in the stillness.

You hadn’t intended to fall asleep so easily, but exhaustion claimed you once you settled beside him. Sunday remained seated on the edge of the bed, gazing out at the cosmos, until he felt a weight press against his back. Your arms had looped around his waist, and in your sleep, you clung to him as though he were the only anchor in a vast, uncertain world.

Sunday froze, his breath catching. Your touch was warm, grounding in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Carefully, he shifted so he could lie beside you. But even then, you didn’t let go, nuzzling closer with your hands wandering up beneath his tailcoat. Your legs tangled with his, locking him in place.

Sunday’s wings fluttered slightly, his halo tilting as his emotions stirred. Vulnerability wasn’t something he indulged in often, but as he looked at your peaceful face and felt the rhythmic rise and fall of your breath, he allowed himself to relax. His arm draped over you, hesitant at first, before settling securely.

“You’re relentless, even in dreams,” he whispered, a faint smile playing on his lips.

For the first time in a long while, Sunday felt a quiet warmth, and with it, the courage to close his eyes and rest.

Dan Heng valued his solitude, often retreating to the archive room for quiet reflection. When you knocked on his door that sleepless night, he seemed taken aback by your request.

“If you’re sure…” he said softly, stepping aside to let you in. His calm demeanor belied the slight tension in his shoulders.

You assured him it was fine, settling on the corner of his bed while he returned to his reading. But as the hours stretched on, your exhaustion won out. Dan Heng noticed when your breathing evened out, a soft sigh escaping you as you shifted closer in your sleep.

When he tried to move away slightly, your arms instinctively latched onto him. One hand slipped beneath his shirt, your fingers brushing against his skin as if seeking warmth. A leg hooked over his, effectively pinning him in place.

Dan Heng’s face turned crimson, his usual stoicism faltering. He shifted awkwardly, unsure if he should wake you or simply endure. But as the moments passed, he found himself relaxing into your embrace. The warmth of your body and the quiet comfort of your presence began to ease the tension he hadn’t realized he carried.

“You’re troublesome, even when you sleep,” he muttered under his breath, though his tone was fond.

Carefully, he adjusted his position, resting his head against yours. For the first time in what felt like forever, Dan Heng let his guard down, lulled to sleep by your steady breathing and the comforting weight of your embrace.

The house you and Aventurine shared was as extravagant as the man himself, with sleek furnishings and a view of a shimmering cityscape through the tall glass windows. That night, you found him lounging on the oversized sofa in the living room, a glass of wine in hand. He raised a brow when you approached, your sheepish expression catching his attention.

“Couldn’t sleep, huh?” he asked, his voice light, teasing. “And you came to me for company? I’m flattered.”

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics but nodded, mumbling something about how his presence always seemed to ease your nerves. His smirk softened into something gentler.

“Well, the couch is cozy, but I think we both know the bed’s more inviting.” He set down his glass and offered you his hand, guiding you to the bedroom with a theatrical bow. “Just don’t blame me if you end up tangled in the sheets—I’ve been told I’m irresistible.”

You scoffed but followed him, finding solace in his playful banter. Aventurine stretched out on the bed, folding his arms behind his head as he watched you settle beside him. He seemed content to simply observe you for a while, his eyes glinting in the low light.

Sleep came easily for you, but for Aventurine, it didn’t take long to realize you were a clingy sleeper. At first, he chuckled under his breath, the sound low and amused, as your arms wrapped around him. Then your hands slipped beneath his shirt, your touch warm against his skin, and a leg threw itself over his.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises,” he murmured, his smile twitching at the corners.

Despite his usual bravado, Aventurine found himself oddly affected by your closeness. His smirk faded into something softer as he adjusted himself to accommodate your weight, his hand coming to rest lightly on your back. For all his confidence, moments like this felt rare, and he wasn’t about to ruin it with his usual quips.

“Sleep tight, darling,” he whispered, his voice unusually tender. “Though I think you’re holding onto me tighter than necessary. Not that I’m complaining.”

As the night stretched on, Aventurine lay awake for a while, marveling at the quiet intimacy of the moment. He didn’t mind being your anchor, not tonight. With a soft sigh, he let his eyes close, a sense of peace washing over him that felt as rare and precious as the stars outside.